“Everyone?”

  Bastion narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, just about. I mean Reveca didn’t. She was still locked in her room, but the rest of us saw it.”

  “Hear it?”

  Bastion shook his head. “Thrash turned the radio up. It was like a fucking concert going on downstairs. We just watched.”

  “Good.”

  “Why, was it top secret Escort shit you were talking about?”

  No answer from King.

  “Talon, know you’re a false king?” Bastion asked.

  “Do what?”

  “That you were stolen. That you were not a true First.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Dude, I’m not joking. I was obsessed with Escorts as a kid. Mom would want me to study all this other stuff, I’d hate it, and she’d promise that she’d tell me a story about the dark angels if I paid attention.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  “Well, for one I know the lore. I know that Firsts are the first soul a sovereign makes. They make him a king in a manner of speaking. And I know that they make Escorts by sending their energy out and finding a soul in transition that fought for change in their past life—one who wants to fight on a new level. They tell them what’s up, kinda that red pill blue pill thing, then the soul says yea or nay and they are reborn with all that supremacy.”

  “Your point?”

  “My point is that your first death, right when the Edge was created, is something I know inside and out. Your soul was not floating around in some cosmic place, wondering which course to take. You were fighting to keep your life, you were resisting.”

  “That I was.”

  “Right, so yeah, your birth in that life was fucked, you were stolen. And furthermore, the line of Exaltation was already recorded in the history books of the coven.” He lifted his chin to King. “How could they record a line that was not born yet? No other Escorts come until the First is in place.”

  King nodded, agreeing. He had figured all of that out just before his last death. It didn’t change anything. He was known as a First, had been for ages. No matter what, he was one of the five that had to be slain. He felt that the day his assassin was born.

  “So you’re a false King.”

  “My name is King. I was a First, and I’m an Escort. How or why that fuck Revelin picked me I will never know.”

  “I’m betting because you rocked his emotion.”

  King almost smiled—almost.

  “Seriously, a rush. That feeling when you reached it all, when so much went into reaching that point and everything made a difference, good and bad, and gave you that rush—that seduction and satisfaction. Witches have that shit nailed.”

  “No one ever has to worry about your self-confidence, kid.”

  “I didn’t say that shit, that’s moms talking. She’s right proud of it. Said our coven was a nest for greatness.”

  “And tragedy,” King said under his breath.

  “Yeah, well, when you play with Gods things tend to happen like that, but it’s never bad for long. The bad always leads to the right sooner or later.”

  King let silence linger for a minute. He wasn’t going to tell Bastion that as long as he’d lived he hadn’t seen a right, not when he was missing his mom and needed to believe differently.

  “The emotion does not slay but delivers, its depths must be infinite…yeah, Escorts are badass.”

  King shook his head then looked right at Bastion. “You just spoke a curse, you know that, right?”

  “Nope,” Bastion said, holding his same cool, calm expression.

  “That’s what it is,” King said adamantly. “It means an Escort will not allow the dark emotion to slay the soul, but it will take it away so they can find ascension. It means the only emotion Escorts will feel, or will notice, is the emotion of their line—infinitely.”

  “Not how I heard it.”

  “Well, I was there. I’m not some lesson,” King said defensively. “Someone took too much emotion one day, more than they needed, felt that power, and addiction set in. So now, already only able to feel or think of one emotion—and craving more and more of it—that’s what they do. They cause it so they can feed. Infinitely. And if they stray from that they will be destroyed because it became their only purpose.”

  “We all have an oath to take,” Bastion said as he pulled out another cigarette. “And we all have addictions to break.”

  King was sick of making this kid put out his smokes. It was an endless game and at this point King was sure the kid was only doing it to piss him off.

  “That’s a mirrored oath, anyway,” Bastion said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You asking me a question? I didn’t learn to read until I was five so I only have twelve years of experience reading books of shadows and such. Now you, a strong witch turned warrior, then a God, you’ve had forever to understand this shit.”

  “I’m not asking you for advice. I’m trying to untwist your fucked head.”

  “It’s not twisted. I mean it. That is a dual oath, the way in is the way out—it’s one and the same.”

  Bastion leaned forward as if he wanted to make sure he was being taken seriously. “No emotion slays. The emotion does not slay but delivers. We may have too much of one or another, and for you badass Escorts you can’t really think past one, but yeah. No emotion slays.” Bastion pointed his lit cigarette at King as he blew out. “None.”

  King narrowed his eyes on Bastion, wondering where the hell this was coming from.

  “I’m serious. I debated for hours, years worth of hours, with my mom on this. Back when girls were gross, before I started to notice all those curves that would fit just right in my hands. I wanted to be a badass warrior, an Escort, a God from above that people had to depend on. Of course that was before I understood that I couldn’t become one from where I was, at this juncture in my life. Which is where your story always came into debate.”

  “You have twisted me. I don’t even know how to argue with you at this point.”

  “I wanted to be like Kenson, thought I could be, then I figured out you were a false King and whatnot. I didn’t give a fuck that I couldn’t fall in love one day. That it was not something they could do because they were above it. Then my mom would shove that saying down my throat—no emotions slays.” He inhaled again. As he blew out he looked King up and down. “She said love is in all emotions and thrives in exaltation. With that emotion at its peak, you not only feel it, you are grateful for it. Not the thank you very much I have manners, but fuck yeah thank you I’m so fucking happy right now that no hell can bring me down kind of thankful.”

  “You think we can feel shit like that?”

  “Fuck. I know you can. It takes the emotion of love to give a damn enough to have any emotions. Otherwise we’d be jacked up zombies walking around.” He glanced over him quickly. “You sure as hell would be since you’re supposedly really not able to give a fuck about anything but that rush.” Bastion grinned. “Go ahead, tell me you love me. I know you do. I’m fucking adorable.”

  King did smile, but only vaguely.

  “Just whisper it, all nice and slow, and if you start to disintegrate before my eyes like some twisted horror movie I’ll run and get help.”

  Bastion grunted, looked to the side of the porch and shook his head. “I’m doubting that I should have ever taught him this trick.”

  “What?”

  “Come to me. Now pops just yanks my string when he wants to bond or some shit.” He nodded toward the side of the house. “Getting harder and harder to hold him back.”

  Bastion looked over King one more time. “Whisper it, if you start to feel all dead and shit, just stop. It’s not like you have that much farther to fall into death.”

  “I’m not telling you that,” King said with a lifted brow.

  Bastion shrugged. “Next time. Or hell, just find someone to whisper it to who gives a damn that you feel
that way.”

  King’s glare came then, but Bastion didn’t see it. He’d vanished from his sight.

  King jumped up, tracking the kid’s energy, trying to make sure he was good and wasn’t pulled by some fucked up spell of Zale’s. King had felt Zale pounding against the spell Jamison had over the Boneyard since he left, so it was possible.

  King saw Bastion in the distance, in the lot, Thrash next to him. They were all alone, then Thrash pulled a tarp off a new bike and did his best to hold in a grin as Bastion’s eyes went wide in utter shock.

  King breathed in, tasting his emotion. His addiction, his curse—exaltation.

  Then he sat down and stared at Bastion’s still burning cigarette.

  Whisper it, he thought to himself.

  Chapter Three

  Reveca didn’t leave her room. She wasn’t hiding, she was thinking. In all honesty, before all the action over the last month being in her room was her normal. She had everything she needed in there and only really left to see her boys, or hang out in the lounge when Star or others she adored were in town. Maybe a long ride here and there, weekly visits to Grandee, but all in all, her lair was her kingdom.

  She could see the river from there, her gardens, and the Boneyard.

  Right then she was on the porch outside her room, sitting in the chair Talon was in for so long earlier in the day. She could swear his scent was wrapped around her. She had pulled the chair closer to the rail so that she could perch her legs on the ledge. A grimoire was across her lap, her eyes were closed…and she was counting.

  She had meditated so deeply, for so long, that she had not only judged the overall mood of the Boneyard, but also allowed her energy to reach out and find them all. Each of her boys, even the ones who had ridden out but were still in the city.

  She felt the anger, she felt the fear, the trepidation, and the grief. She felt all the emotions she hated, touch the ones she cared about, and loathed it. Detested they were all so fragile. That it only took one remark, one idea, one afternoon, for it all to fall apart.

  By now, most had returned from their jaunts, even Talon. Some girl’s life had been spared tonight. It was spared because Reveca killed a wannabe witchling and sent her dark guardians to protect the next victim. She was now on a plane halfway across the country, with a new name and everything she’d need to have a new beginning.

  Talon wasn’t going to come near Reveca. He was in the garage, and she’d bet her life he would stay there. At best he’d settle in one of the swamp houses if he wanted to be alone.

  Their standoff was going to do nothing but build the tension that was already overdue. To erupt in this war they had ignored for too long.

  “Knock, knock,” Reveca heard. She grinned, opened her eyes, and glanced to her side to see Star in the doorway.

  She had her long blonde hair done up in tiny braids and pulled back into an erratic bun. She was wearing a short tank that was more like a bra and overalls, ones that must have been Taurus’s at one time, at least they were big enough for him. She had the pant legs rolled up so they only hit her calf.

  Star let a grin emerge, then pulled a bottle of wine out of her deep pockets.

  “Yeah, that’ll work,” Reveca said, moving her legs so Star could pass by and sit on the other side of her in the empty chair.

  When she sat down Star held the bottle out for Reveca.

  “You don’t have glasses in the tent you’re wearing?” Reveca teased dryly.

  Star giggled. “No, but I have my bottle,” she said, pulling out another one then she nodded to the room. “Two more in there. I figured that would be a start. At least by the time we finish them the boys will all be settled and we can raid the bar.”

  Reveca let a lazy grin come to her as she looked at the bottle and her energy uncorked it. She glanced to Star’s and did the same before she took a long deep drink of hers.

  Star didn’t take in as much as Reveca did, but she still sighed after she swallowed then went lax in her seat. “I can’t believe you didn’t fucking kill her.”

  Reveca was taking another drink and decided to swallow even more when her mind flashed back to the horrid scene of Talon deep inside of Tisk.

  “Willpower,” Reveca said just before she pressed her lips together to savor the sweetness there.

  “Well, you might want to pass your gem of virtue on. We failed when it came to turning the other cheek.”

  Reveca looked to her side. “They didn’t kill her did they?” Reveca had plans for Tisk, ones she had been looking forward to for too long.

  “The boys? No, you have them trained, apparently. The girls, a whole different story.”

  Reveca lifted her brow to tell Star to go on.

  “The fucking cunt walked in the lounge looking like hell, soaked, mud all over her, her top barely on, her skirt so high you could see the bare cheeks of her ass. Everyone started to give her hell, saying she looked all wet, and she said ‘yeah well, when you fuck the president of a MC shit happens.’”

  Reveca took another drink, fury coursing through her. Tisk had always wanted to be Reveca, wanted her power, wanted her status in both the mortal and immoral worlds. In this world, fucking the president of a MC was definitely seen as a victory in Tisk’s eyes, even if she ended up in a river. Basically she was challenging Reveca for her spot.

  “Then?” Reveca asked.

  “Then the room when silent. The boys looked downright confused. Me, the other girls, nope. I wrapped my hand around that nappy ass hair of hers and drug her out, seven or eight followed me. Ass whooping commenced.” Star looked to her side. “That skinny bitch is strong. She held us off for a good while. That a witch thing?”

  Reveca answered by taking another long drink.

  “Yeah, well, we drug her to the gate and threw her ass out. She screamed for the boys to let her in. She said that she was going to die, and it wasn’t her fault. And kept yelling they had to follow the code, and she was under their protection.”

  Star took a long drink. “We threw rocks at her, mud. Finally she started walking, right as the rain started. Haven’t seen her since.”

  Reveca took another drink, fairly proud of her boys. Them not saying or doing anything told her that under all this, even though their energy told her they were unnerved, they were keeping their cool.

  She wasn’t surprised about the girls’ reaction. Boys have codes, their claims they lay on their Ol’ Ladies, the ones that clearly state not to cross them. It’s downright primal, really.

  The girls do too, but girls play dirtier than the boys, always have and always will. If any one of those women kept quiet last night, in their mind, that would be the same as saying it was okay. That shit happens, and men will be men. They would have been saying they were nothing more than some accessory for their biker and could be tossed aside.

  Bikers don’t date weak women, they date the ones who are fierce, who are a force to be reckoned with, ones who abide by the same territorially laws as they do.

  This life, it births the strongest of men and women. If you’re not confident enough to stand up for what’s yours then you didn’t deserve it in the first place. You defend your own and stand up for what is right, scorn the wrong. You’re constantly sending a message out loud and clear, because no matter what, there is always someone watching, someone wondering if you’re not made for the life, if your shit could become theirs one day.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Reveca only drank more.

  “Was it a revenge fuck? You and King hook up?”

  “Nope. I don’t know what the fuck it was. I just know he’s pushing me away.”

  Star took another drink, then looked down at the label and started to tear at it. “You told me once that before war, or strife, they always cut loose those who mean the most to them. You said you know if you were under that knife you meant the world to them.”

  Reveca nodded. All true. All the warriors she had ever known across time had cut as many ti
es as they could. For them it was easier to walk into battle with nothing to lose. If they went in fearing for their life, fearing they would leave someone behind, it distracted them, made what they were facing all the worse. Picking fights, breaking it off all together—it’s what they all did. A survival mechanism that instinctively kicked in, right or wrong.

  “Right.”

  “We must have a lot of shit coming at us.”

  Reveca moved her head side to side. “We can handle it.”

  “This is weird for me, you know that, right?” Star said before taking another drink.

  Reveca was sure it was. Her entire life Reveca and Talon had been together, rock solid.

  “Neither one of us are going anywhere.”

  “You can come back from this?” Star said with a lifted brow. “Taurus would be six foot under by now if I were you.”

  Reveca turn her head to the side, feeling more relaxed than she had in a while. “How long does it take you to fuck?”

  Star busted out laughing. “What? You want to switch sides or something?”

  “I’m serious,” Reveca said, lifting the bottle once more to take another drink.

  “I don’t know just depends.”

  “At best, hot, wild, tear the room up, fucks are what—a few hours, maybe take a break, sleep and do it again.”

  “A few hours,” Star said, with a lifted brow, and a grin across her face. “What kind of witch shit are you giving Talon? Can Taurus have some?”

  Reveca laughed, hard, before she answered. “I have a point.”

  “No, you don’t. You have an empty bottle,” Star said, going to get up.

  Reveca told her to sit, then with her energy she reached out to the bottles on her dresser and pulled them outside to them.

  “Okay, because I got a buzz, so I’m not going to question that shit,” Star said, looking at the bottle that was now in her hand. “Point. What’s the point?” she asked before finishing her first bottle.

  “Sex isn’t everything. It’s just one part of a day. You have to connect in more than one way to make it last. Talon and me do…this is our family.”

  “Just like that. You can just say I’m not going to fuck you anymore, but hey, we can ride Harley’s anytime you want?”