Page 69 of King’s Kismet

Sloane could not care any less about these people or the hell she was about to raise.

She was so godsdamned excited… And I wasn’t far behind her.

Fucking with my brother usually ended in a fight between the two of us, though today would yield different results.

That’s what I was most excited about.

The dumbass had made a bet with Sloane three months ago… And while he didn’t think she was serious, she had been counting down the days to fuck him over. She’d even called to warn Jack and Grim that we were coming.

I had wondered if they would tell Baylor, but she wasn’t worried. The moment I heard the hellsteed cackle like a lunatic, I changed my mind. He was going to enjoy this as much as I would.

Barbie’s flowing black skirt caught the breeze, giving me a glimpse of her long, bare legs. Her silver hair whipped around her face, creating an angelic illusion that didn’t fit her chaotic energy.

She might have been more angel than anything else in her hybrid DNA, but at heart, she was the fucking Devil. And I loved her for it.

I would love her even more when we drove away in Baylor’s truck…

Because sibling rivalry was a thing.

Even if he was one of my best friends.

This bet nonsense had dragged on too long, but every time I told Bay to talk to Lo about it, he would laugh at me.

“She isn’t taking my truck,” he’d said last week.

Well.

He was in for a surprise.

Sloane had sped through her work and canceled all her other plans for the coming week, with the intention of driving across the country in Baylor’s beloved truck.

“So, we’re still not worried that he’ll report it stolen and we’ll be arrested, right?” I asked, knowing my brother too well. “Because I gotta say, that’s some shit he would do.”

She scoffed. “Let them come. I’ll just compel them to forget all about it.”

“That’s your plan?” I nearly groaned in exasperation. “Compel them to forget about the hot chick driving the stolen truck?”

“That’s my plan,” she sang. “But maybe we’ll change it on the fly.”

“Of course we will,” I grumbled, though I followed it up with a dark chuckle. “He’s going to be fucking pissed.”

Barbie turned to grin at me. “And?”

“Nothing,” I replied, tracking the climbing house numbers on the mailboxes. “Which one?”

“That one,” she whispered, pointing up the street.

“Which one?”

“The one up there with the porch light on?”

I didn’t just see one… “I see three.”

“The beige two-story.”

“That’s where they live?”

Sloane waved my question away. “That’s what they’re renting while they renovate.”