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I step backward, between Christopher and Jordan, flashing a smirk between all of them but mainly on Keaton. “They were my playthings.” Shuffling between Keaton and Ky, I pat both their chests before batting my lashes up at Keaton. His dark gaze rumbles down on me like a crack of thunder.
The corner of my lip curls in a smirk. “Be nice to them.” I look to Ky. “Or don’t.” Before going back to Keaton. “We all know I like playing with broken toys…” I shove through them and head up the steps into the cabin doors. My throat tightens as I make my way through the plane. The guilt is almost suffocating, especially after last night, but right now I have other things I have to think about that will definitely cost me Keaton. At least for a while.
“Afternoon, Miss Nero.” One of the flight attendants bows her head at me as I pass. She’s pretty. Blonde, leggy, and has that look about her that most men want to fuck.
“Afternoon—” I look at her name tag, “—Amelia.”
She flashes her wide smile. “Do you need some help to your seat?”
“I’m okay, thank you.” I pass through the front section of the plane. There’s an upstairs and downstairs, but we use upstairs for the beds and bathrooms. Everyone sits where they like, there’s no method to it, but I always prefer the back of the plane, even as a kid when I’d be allowed to ride for the flight.
“Hey, everyone!” I call out, and the talking quiets and faces turn to me. Most of them look confused, but the rest of them don’t seem to think about anything at all, judging by the drinks already on their laps. “We are flying to Prague, like I mentioned in the email you obviously all received. We touch down there and our first show isn’t for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” someone near the front asks. I bring my eyes to her and see it’s one of the Angels from the Angel and Demon slot. I can’t remember her name. Oh my God, did Delila remember everyone’s names?
“Yes, two weeks. That gives everyone enough time to chill out, train, get over their jetlag, warm up, and our equipment to get there.” I’m waiting for someone to ask why I’m the one announcing, but when none of them do and I close off what I have to say, I carry on to the back of the plane. There are four sections in the very back that are formed with booths and another access stairway to upstairs. The bar is near the back. Maybe that’s why everyone likes sitting down here.
I choose a faraway booth, dumping my handbag on the chair while moving my pillow and blanket for the flight to slide in. I can see The Brothers shuffling in behind Jordan and Christopher, but I refuse to look up at them. They intimidate a lot of people, or should I say everyone, but not me. When you’ve been raised by monsters, they teach you how to exist with them. They don’t scare me. To an unnatural level, they don’t scare me.
Jordan chooses the chair opposite me, with Christopher beside him. The booths are large enough to fit four on each side, but they’re giving me my space. Something they’ve always been good at and what has made it so much easier to tolerate them for so long.
“This plan you’re working on,” Jordan whispers low, leaning over the table as I twist off the lid to my water bottle. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
I ignore him for a few seconds, painfully aware of the heat that’s coming from the other side of the plane. They’re in direct view of me for a reason, and suddenly, all of that confidence in them falters for a second. I know they wouldn’t hurt me, but I also know that I’ve just made it aware that I’ve been keeping a secret from them.
“It’ll be fine.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and slide it into airplane mode but flick Wi-Fi on to connect to the internet. I wait until we’ve taken off and up in the air when I open a new iMessage.
Me: Are you okay?
Eli: You know you shouldn’t message me. I’m fine.
My heart sinks and I lean back against my chair, closing my eyes. I don’t know what he’s done, but I know that somehow, it has to do with me.
The earthy scenery of Prague has my mind spinning a web of homesickness. It reminds me of The Castle in Kiznitch. Building after building of towering rooftops and ancient stained-glass windows. Jordan drives us to the hotel where we are all staying, and I answer my phone when Kaius’ name flashes over my screen. I’ve been thankful in a way that The Fathers haven’t dabbled much in how I run Midnight Mayhem, but I’m not naive to think they very much still call the shots.
My eyes meet Jordan’s in the rearview mirror as I swipe my phone unlocked. “Hello.”
“Cartier…” he answers lightly. “You’ve touched down in Prague?”
I cross my leg on top of the other, playing with the rings on my finger. “Yes. When will you be here?”
“We will be landing soon and staying in the Hall of Residence in the countryside. I will send you the address and I want you to gather the list I sent you of who are to attend.”
“Kaius, we have a problem.”
There’s a second pause. “They know?”
I’ve thought about this moment for years and how I would break it to The Fathers after I’d spilled the beans. “Yes, they do.”
“That’s not ideal for right now, but have they tried to interfere?”
I lean farther back against the chair, watching trees pass. “That’s the strange thing. No, they haven’t. The entire flight they left me alone.” I’d rather their anger than their silence. I was prepared for their wrath—hell, I’m familiar with it. But their silence is unfamiliar ground for me, and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Hmm,” he mumbles, and then pauses. “The Mothers will be there with us too. Gather who I send you and we will meet you all tomorrow night.” I hang up the phone as the car pulls into the entry to the hotel. The Kiznitch meetups are something I’ve known about since I was a child, but I was never allowed to be around them.
Until now.
But there’s something off with The Brothers, and I know that whatever they’re planning to do, I need to be another step ahead. Yet again. When did my life become a constant stepping contest?
