Tacet a Mortuis

  I pulled my phone out when Madison’s head was rested back on my lap, and pulled out my ear pods. I pushed play on “Whoring Streets” by Scars on Broadway, and slipped it into our playlist, closing my eyes and reliving, soaking every inch of what I remember of her.

  “What are you doing here?” Madison asked, stepping outside cautiously and shutting the door. She was somewhat smart to be cautious around me, that was for sure. I took a seat on one of the marble steps, and looked directly at her, only hers were on my car.

  “I told you,” I answered matter-of-factly. “We need to talk.” I didn’t even hide the fact that my eyes were undressing her. She wore cute little shorts and a tight tank that rose up to display her belly. When my eyes fell to her socks, my eyebrow rose in shock. “Is that Banksy’s work?”

  “I’m shocked,” she snorted sarcastically, and I had to fight the urge to rip her fucking clothes off and eat her on her parents’ doorstep. My fingers twitched, and just when I was about to throw my ‘talk’ out the fucking window, she fucking insulted me. “You know Banksy?”

  “I know his artwork,” I retorted.

  I could see her trying her hardest to not meet my gaze, so she flipped the box of chocolates open and gestured them to me. “I can share.”

  Her eyes finally came to mine, and I leaned into my shoulder, using it to shield my mouth. My attention stayed on her, studying, trying to crack open every single cage she kept hidden. What the fuck was it with her. I fucking wanted her. “What?”

  I shook my head, breaking our eye contact and looking straight ahead. “You’re different.”

  “I’ve been told that all my life.” My jaw tensed. I knew that she meant that as an insult, but I didn’t say it as an insult, it was a good thing. A fucking dangerous thing, but a good thing nonetheless.

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

  “You and Carter?” I threw her off track.

  “Are none of your business.”

  “Really?” My lip curled. “Pretty sure you made it my business the second you were screaming my name and clawing up my back.”

  I fought the smirk that was possessing my mouth and leaned back farther into my chair. Just thinking about that night was making my dick hard all over again.

  My karma may be a bitch, but damn the bitch is beautiful.

  “I’ve felt loss. I’ve suffered and lived through what felt like my heart being ripped from my chest. Death was a brutal thing. Its behavior could be unrestrainedly ferocious, and at times, radiated toward the people who didn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of its wrath. It tore your heart into two by taking your loved one and replacing them with nothing but the sweet whispers of their memories. Those memories will become the shoulders you cry on.”

  – Amo Jones

  (on losing the most important father in her life)

  The trip back to my house felt long, and the hours felt as though they stretched into days. By the time we reached my driveway, I was tired again, my eyes struggling to stay awake through all the trauma. Bishop’s arm never left me, and I snuggled into him deeper, burying my face into his chest. He leaned down and kissed me as the car came to a stop.

  “Come on.”

  Finally, my mouth opened and words left me. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He searched my eyes. “You’re going to get through this.”

  I nodded, even though I didn’t believe a damn thing he said.

  “Oh, um.” My eyes flew to Nate, who was taking off his seatbelt. “We’re having a meeting today, with Tillie.”

  Nate softened, his hard features instantly changing. “Why?” he whispered.

  “She wants to leave.”

  “Like fuck!” he roared. I winced from the sudden lash out.

  “Nate!” Bishop scolded him.

  “Sorry, sis, but she can’t leave. I’ll k—” He paused, his eyes going to Bishop and then changed his tactic. “Too soon. She just can’t leave with my kid.”

  “She won’t, but that’s what we need this meeting for.” I waited for Bishop to get out of the car then slipped out behind him. “And then, I’m going to plan my brother’s funeral.”

  A second car pulled up behind us with Jase, Hunter, Eli, Chase, and Brantley inside, and then another behind theirs with Spyder, Ollie, Tate, and someone else I didn’t care to recognize. Tate tried to come with us, but Nate kicked her out.

  I left everyone behind and went to the front door, pushing it open. “Tillie?” I called out, but my voice was weak. It physically hurt to speak, and the sooner this day was over, the better. Bishop, Nate, and Jase walked in behind with the rest of the gang. I headed to the sitting room.

  I looked at Elena. “Where’s Tillie?”

  I didn’t want a shower. I wanted to stay as I was, with the last bit of Daemon left on my skin, so when Elena’s eyes went to my hands, she flinched.

  “Daemon,” I whispered, my throat swollen.

  “And Katsia,” Nate added, climbing onto the couch with his mom.

  That’s when I heard Nate ask, “What’s wrong?”

  My eyes swung back to Elena, who met mine. “I’m sorry about your loss, sweetheart. I know how much Daemon meant to you,” she paused. I winced, tears pooling again. She stood, wiped her pants and squared her shoulders, putting on a fake smile, even though tears were threatening the corner of her eyes.

  Her eyes went to Nate. “She’s gone.”

  “What!” Nate flew off his chair. My throat swelled, my eyes closing. “When?”

  I shook my head. “She wouldn’t leave, Elena. She was happy that Micaela had her dad.”

  “Stop defending her, sis, not everyone has the same thought process as you.”

  Elena’s eyes came to mine. “No, she’s right. Something doesn’t feel right, Nate. I took her and the baby to register Micaela. I dropped them at the front and told them I’d be right back after finding a parking spot. Tillie wasn’t erratic. She left the diaper bag in the car and asked me to bring it in with me because her hands were full with the papers and documents she needed.” She paused. “I just got home. I spent hours there trying to find them. I demanded to look at CCTV footage but without a warrant, they can’t show me anything.” Her eyes came to me. “Something is not right, Madison.”

  “And if she has run?” Hunter asked, coming closer to me. Jase followed him when suddenly, I had my two brothers behind me, Bishop beside me, Tate coming up closely, and Nate sitting directly in front of me. I exhaled a shaky breath. “First, I want to bury my brother” —I paused, my head tilting over my shoulder to Jase and Hunter— “our brother.” Then I looked at Nate. “Then we can get her back.”

  His knee jiggled. “We better bury him tomorrow, then, sis, because if she’s missing, that means my kid could be in danger.”

  He was right.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed my dad, who was still on Perdita.

  He answered. “Madison? Are you ok?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes. How long until Daemon can be here? I’d like to bury him tomorrow, and we have a situation here where Tillie may be missing with the baby.”

  Dad paused. “Jesus. Ok. Yes, I’ll have everything sorted for a burial tomorrow. Do you have any requests on caskets?”

  “Black, and Dad?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “I love you.”

  There was a long pause. “I love you too.”

  Hanging up, I sighed, massaging my temples. “Dad will have everything sorted for a burial tomorrow. I assume he will be buried in our family plot here.” Bishop pulled me under his arm.

  “We will find her, Nate, I promise.”

  Later that night, I’m climbing the stairs after a long hot bath when I hit the top of the stairs and head into my bedroom. Bishop and I wanted alone time but didn’t get it, because now my bedroom was filled with not just the ten Kings I was familiar with, but the other three who were from the previous generation, too.

  And Tate,
of course.

  They all paused watching their tv show and their attention came to me as I opened my door. “Thanks for all being here, but honestly, it’s not necessary.”

  Tate perched up on her elbow. “It’s okay, Mads. Let us.”

  I internally battled with myself, but when my eyes went to Bishop, who was freshly showered with grey sweatpants on and no shirt, my brain seized. His gaze assaulted my body, and I flushed before going to the bed. It felt empty not having Daemon here with us. I slid under the cover and Bishop pulled me under his arm. Kissing my head.

  The next morning, my muscles felt tight, unmovable. My eyes slowly cracked open, and I sat up slowly, looking down at the mass of bodies that were still snoring on the floor. The patio door was open all night, allowing a soft breeze to maintain its calmness through my bedroom.

  “You ok?” Bishop asked, leaning up on his elbows. I turned to face him over my shoulder, my eyes falling on his soft lips.

  “I will be. I think.” I got up from bed and strategically made my way to the door that led into my bathroom. I slowly teased at sliding my shorts down and nudged my head toward the tub. “I could do with a bath though?”

  He bit his lip to try to hide his grin and then followed behind me, shutting the door behind us. His hand sprawled out over my tummy, his arousal pressing into my back. “Stay there.”

  I closed my eyes, and soaked up every touch, every whispering movement that he cascaded over my flesh. Tilting my head, his lips came to where my neck met my shoulders. He sucked on it softly, his hand slowly moving under my panties. His thumb pressed against my clit in slow circles. My mouth opened as a gasp left me. My chest rose and fell as his kisses on my neck became more desperate and his index finger slid inside of me as his thumb continued to rub my clit. His other hand came to the bottom of my tank and dipped underneath, his thumb and finger finding my nipple. He twisted it—hard, the pain and the pleasure both intertwining together in an intimate embrace. My orgasm ripped through me and stars exploded inside my head as my breathing came down slowly. He pulled out from inside of me, dipping his finger into my mouth. The sweetness coating the tip of my tongue. Turning around, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his hands came to the backs of my thighs, lifting me off the ground. He stepped farther into the bathroom, my legs still wrapped around him like a vise. He leaned over, flicking the tap of the bath on. Our silence was broken by the loud splashing of water as it filled the tub.

  “Am I going to be ok?” I asked him, searching his eyes as he busied himself pouring all sorts of oils and bath salts into the bath.

  He didn’t answer, he put me on my feet and continued to undress me. I stepped into the hot scolding water, wincing from the temperature before slowly dipping myself into it. The pinching slowly started to dissipate and the steam rose, swimming around my face in a mix of sweet lavenders and fresh cut green grass. Bishop slid in behind me, opening his legs and pulling me against his bare chest.

  “I don’t know, baby, no one knows.” He cleared his throat, kissing my head. “If you are, then I’ll be here, and if you’re not, then I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Madison. Through the good times, but most importantly through the ugly times. I’m not going anywhere, and I can’t promise you that I’m not going to fuck this up somewhere along the way and piss you off epically, but I’ll always be loyal to you. There was no one before you and there sure as fuck won’t be anyone after you. I begin and end with you, baby.” He kissed my temple. “So I don’t know if you’re going to be ok, but I do know that I’ll be here regardless.”

  Tears fell down my cheeks. I sniffed, clearing my throat. “That’s all I need.” Then I turned to face him, and his arms fell to the side. I climbed on top of him and watched his features soften as I lowered myself onto his cock. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his bottom lip pulling into his mouth and a soft groan vibrated from him. I slowly lifted, and then circled my hips, my walls clenching around his thick length. It felt natural, like a piece of my puzzle was now in place every time he was inside of me. I was addicted to the feeling of him being inside, filling me. His hands came to my hips, his fingertips gripping my hip bones, then he tapped my thigh. “Get up.” I stood, following his orders, and he leaned my body in half, propping one leg on the edge of the bath. I hung onto the bathroom sink for support and he gripped onto my hips again, pulling me into his cock. He pulled out and sunk back in, then one of his hands came to my hair, wrapping it around his fist as he pounded into me. Water splashed around our ankles and sprayed all over the floor. Moans were leaving my mouth, and his hand flew to my throat, where he clenched down roughly, using it as a handle. He continued to lay into me relentlessly.

  He pulled out, and I stood to my height when he sunk back into the bath and I sat down on top of him again, reverse cowgirl. Using his legs to lift myself up, I slowly rode his cock until sweat beaded off of my flesh and the water turned cold. His thighs clenched under my palms and my body vibrated from the lead up of my orgasm. When his cock stroked my pussy once again, I let go, my core exploding inside of me. His cock throbbed, emptying himself with every thud. I dropped into his chest and he pulled me into him, kissing my head.

  “You’re going to be fine, baby.”

  I remember the day I bought this dress. I saw it in a storefront window. The way the black lace weaved over my chest and the tight material curved over every bone, and muscle on my body. It was held together by lace, with the middle strip missing, displaying the edge of your abs—if you had them, which I didn’t. My lack of food intake was beginning to show, and it was the first time I realized my collarbone was sharp enough to cut through rock. I stared back at myself in the free-standing oval mirror, really looking deep into my own eyes.

  “Te amo, frater.” Tears formed at the surface again, on the brink of spilling over, but there was a knock on the door and my head tilted towards the entryway.

  “Hey, Mads, I have a couple people who want to meet you,” Jase said, hinting to who it could be. “Is that ok?”

  I stomped down my feelings, cleared my throat, and then ran my hands down my dress. Black. The color was symbolic to death, which was why I chose to wear white. I refused to believe my brother was dead. He deserved more than what the color black could give.

  I nodded, wiping my eyes. He opened the door wider, and a man and woman stood there. The woman was dressed in a black long dress and was holding a large hat that had lace hanging off the front. She was beautiful, had honey brown eyes, skin that held a tint that no amount of sun could give you which told me she had something else in her blood. Her eyes met mine and her eyebrows pulled together. My own went to the man standing next to her. He wore a dark suit and a dark tie. He was tall, towering over her small frame, had grey hair and aged skin. He had to be pushing his early fifties. He looked somber and held a different softness on his shoulders than most of the other Kings.

  “Madison,” she started. “I’m Jamima, your—” she paused, her fingers twisting around her hat. “Birth mom.” She stepped forward, and that’s when I caught Scarlet leaning against the wall behind them. She sent me a sneaky wink, and I knew what it meant. She had my back if I needed. Jase stayed, opening the door wider. I appreciated it because it didn’t feel like I was closed off in this room with nothing but the parents I didn’t know who, essentially, gave me and Daemon away.

  “Why?” I asked quickly.

  The man cleared his throat. “I’m Johan, Madison, I’m sorry we had to meet like this. Jamima and I understand that you will have questions, and we don’t want to hold back on answering those for you. You deserve honesty,” he paused, and his eyes went over his shoulder, straight to Scarlet, who gave him a look I wasn’t sure how to decipher. It was like a mother bear protecting her cubs. My heart warmed instantly, and with that small notion, I knew I could handle whatever they dished me, because they didn’t matter to me right now. What mattered was the strength I felt radiating off of Scarlet. She was the only mother I needed, anyon
e else didn’t matter. I nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  He looked back at me. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how our world spins by now. When your m—Jamima found out she was pregnant, she was ecstatic, when we found out that we were having twins, we were even more pleased. Twins were rare in any case, but there had never been twins born into our world. When we found out that one of you was a girl, we kept it quiet, though we were shattered. We knew we couldn’t share it with anyone because the risk was too high. You were a Silver Swan; you were sure to die.” His hands dove into his pockets, and Jamima finished it off.

  “We were close to Elizabeth and Joseph. They were cousins, so they agreed to take you and run. Run for the rest of your lives. But when your brother was born, Elizabeth didn’t bond with him, so she sent him to Katsia’s mother where he was raised on Perdita, speaking only Latin. They tried to teach him English as well, like they did with Katsia, but he refused.” She cleared her throat. “I understand that you have a lot of love around you, and we don’t deserve a nick of your time, but we wanted you to know.”

  My eyes went to Scarlet. “What will happen now? Now that Katsia is dead? What happens to little girls now?”

  Scarlet smiled at me. “Now they will be welcomed.” She pushed off the wall and came to me. “That’s why we stayed behind, to have a conference with The Circle. Your father pushed for it, as did I. Hector on the other hand.” She rolled her eyes, but her hand found mine. “He came around, though, and now? Because of you, sweet girl.” Scarlet’s hand came to my face. “No King needs to worry about having a little girl. Nothing else would change, only that the girls would be accepted into the family alliances now.”

  “Jesus take the wheel,” Nate muttered from somewhere in the background.