Page 3 of Insanium
“You all set, kiddo?” Dante asked, a blend of concern and unspoken pride swirling in his tone.
“All ready to go,” I confirmed.
Mom turned in her seat to get a good look at me, her pretty face the original version of mine. “Did you say goodbye to Hael?” she asked, her words tinged with a mother’s worry.
I shook my head. “Aisha will keep him busy. You know her sister is supposed to be here?” I threw in casually, trying to mask the rare pang of guilt for telling Hael to stay behind. I knew he wanted to joinJudiciumtoo, but deep down, I feared it would chew him up and spit him out in lil’ bite-sized pieces.
Dante turned as Mom had, and his dark eyes met mine, a spark of irritation flickering through them. I loved how closely he resembled Ky and Char, much more than the other guy—dark-haired, dark-eyed, and effortlessly intimidating.
“We haven’t gotten to see the finalized roster yet. Another one of Kyle’s petty moves after he found out we wanted to place a bet.”
“You guys are betting on me?” I asked, pleasantly surprised. Geez, there might’ve been an actual tear in my eye.
“Aren’t you going to go in there and show them what it means to be a Vetis?” Mom fired back, her belief in me as fierce as ever. She’d been through her ownJudicium, after all, kicking ass with her ex-bestie Pandora Serpine.
“I’ll give them a show they won’t forget,” I promised with a grin, the reminder of my task sparking like electricity through my veins. I leaned forward and placed a quick peck on her cheek, then Dante’s. He held me a second longer in a small hug.
“We’ll be watching, Kennedy. Every step of the way,” Dante promised, his voice thick with emotion.
“I’ll keep you entertained,” I shot back with a wink as he released me, swinging the car door open. The cool evening air brushed against my skin. Stepping out, I turned to give them one last look. “Love you guys. Catch you on the other side,” I quipped, my voice steady but my heart racing with adrenaline.
“We love you, Kenzie. Be smart, and remember who you are,” Mom coached, her eyes brimming with tears she wouldn’t let fall.
I nodded, slamming the door shut behind me and striding towards the gates to hell.
Chapter Three
Passing through the entry gates was suspiciously simple. Maybe that blinking red dot at the top had something to do with it. Hauling my 5’4” selfallthe way up the ridiculously long driveway was the real pain. I didn’t see anyone else, and I wondered if that was done purposely.
I eventually rounded the final bend and got my first real look at the place. The estate stood imposingly against the sky. The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the freshly painted facades, and the refurbished stonework glistened under the weight of history. Each window, pristine and clear, reflected the stormy clouds above, giving the illusion of movement within the stillness of the house—a pretty neat parlor trick if you didn’t know to expect it.
Gargoyles perched atop the stone balustrades seemed to observe me with heartwarming attentiveness, their eyes lifelike under the flickering light of the gas lamps and pre-lit pumpkins that lined the path. The wind picked up, sending whispers of colorful leaves through the corridors of manicured gardens bordering the driveway. This place was a paradox, beautifully restored yet undeniably Gothic, welcoming yet warning. The chill that ran down my spine wasn’t just from the cold; it was anticipation with just a sprinkle of concern.
This wasn’t just any old estate; it was a carefully staged arena, and I was one of the chosen players.
If limp-dick Kyle wasn’t such a Bitter Betty, I would know who I was about to face when I walked through its glamorous double doors, both decorated with stunning skeletal wreaths for spooky season. I rolled my shoulders and stepped up to them, trying the handle and finding it unlocked. I looked around and spotted another red dot blinking subtly from a corner. I offeredthe mysterious viewer a finger wave and a blown kiss before slipping inside.
The foyer that greeted me wasbreathtaking.
Someone had really done their due diligence in making this place fancy. The floor, a checkerboard of polished marble, echoed my every step as I ventured farther in. Sweeping staircases curved up toward the shadowy upper floors, their banisters polished to a dark sheen that reflected the flickering light from ornate sconces. What truly caught my attention were the framed portraits decorating the richly paneled walls with solemn dignity. Each canvas depicted a figure donned in a mask, the designs ranging from hauntingly beautiful to grotesquely bizarre, the visual speaking of history and familial legacies.
Serpine—a surname nearly as notorious as my own—was elegantly scripted beneath a portrait of a figure wearing a striking panda design that I recognized immediately. It wasn’t listed as Lucian directly, but I knew it was that beautifully dangerous man who had somehow ascended to this wall of legends prematurely.
I wouldn’t mind ascending him.
Azrael.
Astaroth.
Two more names that danced in the same devious circles as the Serpines, each paired with masks that seemed to snarl and smirk at the same time. Ciaran and Maverick’s family names were inscribed beneath other portraits, those of bloodied men and women with concealed faces. Also on the wall, which I was in no way surprised to find, was my grandfather.
Above the nameVetis, his painted face wore a mask that was as commanding as it was cryptic, framed by the legacy he had left behind for us to uphold and strengthen. I reveled in the watchful gazes, their eyes unseeing yet omnipresent. My brothers would be up there one day. My cousin would as well. Sonaturally, I was gunning for a spot too. I couldn’t let the men in the family get all the glory.
I looked away from the bloodied idols and frowned at the silence. Where the heck was everyone? I couldn’t be the first to arrive. As I debated between the urge to explore upwards or wander around this level, a faint peal of feminine laughter reached my ears. Decided, I veered left, bypassing the main staircase for a smaller, more inconspicuous set of steps that spiraled downward.
The staircase led to a long corridor that felt like a passage through time, its air thick with the musk of ancient wood. The hallway was dimly lit, bathed in the soft, flickering light from wall-mounted torches that cast eerie shadows along its length. At its end, frosted double doors loomed, their glass etched with swirls that seemed to pulse with secretive life. A quaintWelcomestand stood by the doors, like a harbinger of the twisted fun awaiting.
My heart pounded with an intoxicating combination of thrill and anticipation; this was the moment I’d been itching for.
