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When they stopped in front of two men holding beers, she wasn’t sure what she expected. They were average height men, but the one on the left looked like his muscles were barely contained inside the suit jacket he was wearing. If she had to assume, he spent most of his time in the gym. She might go so far, even, to say he lived in and ran the gym himself. His head was shaven and was tattooed on the top. His friend was almost the opposite of him. He had black hair that was pulled back into a neat bun and his suit looked slightly loose on him, like he had either lost weight since he had last worn it, or he borrowed it from someone else for the day.
Mykie missed the introduction as she tuned in again to the conversation just as Ryker got done shaking their hands.
“I want to introduce you to Mykie Vesper,” Ryker said, his hand landing on her lower back as he pushed her forward slightly.
The slimmer one held his hand out to her, giving a glace to Ryker. “I’ve heard…many things about you, Mykie. It’s nice to put a name to your face.”
Mykie accepted his hand with no hesitation. If she showed any sort of fear in front of these men, including Ryker, everything could go wrong.
“That’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you boys today,” Mykie said, grasping his hand firmly. “I just have a few questions for you. No fighting needed.”
“And why would we listen to you?” the other one asked.
She dropped the first one’s hand and looked at the muscular man, hoping she didn’t look intimidated. “Because we’re at a funeral. The least we can do is respect the family of the man that we both got killed.”
This seemed to shut him up as he grimaced at her.
“Now, I just need to know something. Something one of your people told me,” Mykie said, looking between the two Vultures. “What do you know about my mother?”
The men looked at one another.
“If you know something, please tell her,” Ryker said, crossing his arms. “For this conversation, we are just new friends having a conversation, not enemies. I think we can all agree that if we are going to continue this fight, we should all understand what we are fighting about.”
The smaller of the two men was the one to finally speak. “Your mother, Ara, was a very fierce woman. Did a lot of good things while she was alive, and many of us were devastated when she died.”
“Why? You were the ones who killed her,” Mykie snapped.
Ryker laid a hand on her shoulder, and she took a deep breath. She needed to calm down if she was to expect any answers.
“Your mother was one of us. Her family—”
She didn’t hear anything else as her world spun. Her mother was a Vulture. By birth, she was part Vulture just as much as she was Cantil. Why had no one told her? How could Chance keep such a secret from her?
She looked at Ryker, hoping to see the shock on his face, too.
He wasn’t.
Oh, God. Everyone knew, and just didn’t tell her, didn’t they? What happened to no more lies between them?
Who knew? Dexter? Jezebeth?
They were all lying to her. Did they think it was funny, how she didn’t understand that Vultures were coming after her because they looked like her dead mother? Were they snickering because she was too stupid to put the pieces together?
She suddenly remembered the jacket that her mother was so ashamed of, pushing it to the back of her closet, except for the one night that she wore it: the night she went with her father to meet a group of Vultures. Her jacket looked nothing like the Vultures, however. Hers was blue, while the Vultures wore black jackets like the Cantil. The only difference between their jackets now were their symbols on the back.
Was she the chess piece Chance was moving on the board against the Vultures? The bargaining chip?
She looked like such a fool. The only ones that were willing to tell her the truth were her enemies.
“I—I need to go,” she said, pushing away from Ryker. She turned around and stumbled through the crowd, giving a polite ‘excuse me’ every time she walked through the middle of someone’s conversation. She felt her heart break a little with every step she took. He said he wouldn’t lie to her, yet he kept such vital information from her, knowing what she wanted to know about herself. How could she trust him, from then on?
She heard Ryker call after her, but she ignored it as she pushed her way into the kitchen.
It was empty besides Blaine, who was leaning against one of the counters. He had a cup of something in his hand, and he tilted his head back to spill it into his mouth. It was when his gaze dropped when he set his drink down that he caught her staring.
She could only imagine how deranged she looked at the moment, and she couldn’t disagree that she felt scattered. Something she was so sure of, her identity as a Cantil, was now put into question. Presented with another person whose identity was in question to her, she pushed her struggles aside and focused on the things she could control.
“What are you drinking?” she asked, practically stomping over to him.
