CHAPTER 11
Bishop eyed his brothers and father before announcing, “We have about an hour before the ladies join us. They’re discussing all the exhilarating particulars regarding the Ball. I know you’re biting at the bit to be included in that.
“Actually, I am,” Traps muttered, stroking his red beard. “I have particulars I want addressed.”
“Like what,” Patches chuckled next to him. “Must be able to sit still for extended periods of time?”
“He probably needs all her measurements to build those traps he’s making for their honeymoon,” Bacon said with a grin.
Bishop shook his head at seeing lights go off in Trap’s eyes with that announcement. “How about not give him any crazy ideas.”
“I’d strongly advise against using any sort of traps on a woman from these swamps,” Lazure warned with raised brows at him. “She may put you at the end of one of your nooses.”
“Words of wisdom from a man who’s been around,” Bishop chuckled before eyeing Spook. “How’s your crew doing?”
“On standby and ready for orders.”
He turned to Seer. “How’s the seeing coming with all that?”
Samuel regarded him. “We think Lazarus may have already infiltrated through links he’s created with certain people in the past.”
Bishop understood right away he meant Cherie. “What about with Ruckus? He was also connected.”
“I’m guessing to a degree, yes. But since he was in hiding there wasn’t much he could do with it. When we touched, it opened doors and whatever was hiding in him is now hiding in me. His gift allows him to hide but because of who I joined with, there’s been influence on my gifts.”
“That why you’ve not able to see clearly?” Bishop wondered.
Seer nodded. “He’s been tagging along so to speak. Hiding or blocking my sight in some things. Particularly with him. This is why I can’t see him or even get a tracking on him.”
“Then we do it manually,” Bishop decided.
“Ruckus mentioned something about Beth having a gift,” Seer said.
“What kind of gift?” Bishop sure didn’t want her near any of this bullshit.
“To compel,” Seer said. “When I first touched her, all I saw was her aura. But it’s the same as her sister Maggie, only there’s no obvious gift in it. But Ruckus said when she wants something he feels the compelling power in it to give it. I think it works in reverse. If she doesn’t want something. She didn’t want me looking at something or something didn’t want me looking and so I didn’t or maybe couldn’t.”
The men’s mutters weren’t altogether convinced before Lazure gave a single laugh. “Well, I’ll be damn.” He glanced around at the men. “I did find it shocking how open you all were to the prospect of marriage.”
“He’s on to something there,” Seer agreed. “Ever since my father mentioned her gift, I began realizing she’s been using it and we’ve been none the wiser. The marriage of The Twelve and how they responded to it would surely be one example.”
“So, it’s hidden from her too?” Hurricane wondered.
Everybody looked at Seer. “Seems it is since she’s not aware.”
Bishop had to chuckle. His Petite was compelling him? Sounded like grounds for punishment. Now he needed to go over everything he’d wanted through the possible idea she wanted what he gave.
“Bruh,” Patches laughed. “She’s been raping you this whoooole time.”
“Oui,” Bishop said, laughing too. “Repeated violations.”
They were all in an uproar before it was over with.
“You think she can compel these maidens?” Traps asked, his serious as shit face making it that much funnier.
Except Ruckus, who rained on their parade with a firm, “You never exploit a person’s gifts.”
Bishop realized he likely spoke from experience. Perp or victim, he wasn’t sure. Likely both. “Of course not,” he said as they settled down. “Exploitation is forbidden in our land and is severely punished.” Bishop’s mind continued to add up things his Petite may have compelled in him. Like all that animalistic rough sex. Mon Dieu. To think she wanted that had him needing to find her that instant. There was always a need to punish her. Was she wanting that too? Was it her that had him always thinking of that Karma Sutra book? Sexy fucking angel.
“What about Shreveport?” Nitro asked, snapping him out of his fiery thoughts. “I have some Gum Drops with five-mile drone capability and remote detonation. Mostly made of C-4. Sticks where it lands. Handsfree hassle free.”
“And fun free,” Hurricane added, all ripped off about it.
“I’ll let you press the button,” Nitro offered.
“I have some new software for the drones I want to play with,” 8-Bit said. “I’ll tag along.”
“Sounds good,” Nitro said.
“We get to watch at least?” Hurricane asked.
“It has a live feed. I can put it on the big screen at the Hack House. You can have a party.”
“Silent and deadly this time,” Bishop said to Hurricane. “Your savage storms ’ll be needed soon enough, Mon Freire. 8-Bit, who’s taking the first hit at this Nest?”
“Intel says there’s already power struggles between the drug runners and the sex traffickers. I say we hit the drug supply and have one of the drones drop intel pointing to the traffickers and kick off that family feud. Once they’re fighting, we hit the arms and leave a finger pointing at somebody associated with the Noctambule. Like the Holy Order. They’ll get heat and The Holy Order will blame the Noctambule and shit should hit the fan full force.”
“We’ll need our leverage sooner rather than later,” Bishop said, looking at Seer. “We still agree that Raphael is key leverage, yes? We bring him home, that brings the head of the snake closer?”
Seer nodded. “Definitely.”
“It’ll force his hand, no doubt about it,” Ruckus agreed. “It’s his main leverage from what I’m sensing.”
“You can see things about him now?” Bishop wondered.
“I can now that Samuel showed me. But I’m deliberately keeping my distance till I know what he’s up to and capable of.”
His caution offered a little relief. “What do you need to get this done?” He looked between Seer and his father. “Preferably without my wife.”
Seer turned his gaze to the table with raised brows. “Think we may need to at least verify her gift. Then consider how to safely use it.”
Safely. There was no such fucking thing with this. He considered another problem with all of it. If her gift was hidden from her, the question was why? Was it a self-preservation thing? From what, he’d like to know. Or maybe he didn’t. “I’ll speak to her about it.” He looked at Lesion. “You have any input here?”
“I have potions that I’ve tweaked. They’re prepared.”
“Tweaked potions, huh?” He eyed him as more unease circled.
“For Seer, mostly. I won’t do anything with your wife without your express permission of course.”
“Or mine,” Spook muttered next to him.
Bishop took a single, slow breath, reminding himself who was in control of the things out of his hands. He’d committed to surrendering to that higher power and allowed it to glue his nerves back together.
He regarded the rest of them. “I set up a meeting with my Blood Brothers and Thadeus to ensure everything is scheduled for the Bat-tie and arms exchange. I’ll feel him out. Gordon with the Booyies will tip him off about our little Ball.”
“Hold up,” Lazure muttered, getting Bishops attention. “Our original plan was to force them to give up their guilty.” He eyed Bishop. “We know who the guilty is and we’re about to lure all of them here. The initial strategy was to leverage Remy’s men but I see no point in that now.”
Bishop’s bloodlust already knew what he meant. “No need to take prisoners.”
“We know they’re guilty.” Lazure shrugged. “We execute them on the field. Leave room at the Weigh Station for the bigger devils coming.” He glanced all around. “We want their dirtiest demons to face Bayou Bishop judgment, yes?” His father’s eyes were hard on him now.
“Indeed we fucking do.” Bishop’s adrenalin rushed as he eyed all his men. “New plan. Kill all the evil fucks during the bat-tie.”
The gave a bloodthirsty yell while pounding the table with The Twelve’s war drum rally cry.
The promise of guilty bloodshed for crimes long overdue had Bishop’s muscles buzzing with an old dark rage. He returned it to that place inside him where it waited with the understanding that Bishop would one day unleash it to sate it’s bloodlust on the guilty. To feel that day on the near horizon gave him a near drunk feeling.
He focused on the current events, his eyes landing on Nitro. “How goes that excavation at the Bird Whispering front?”
Nitro’s tight expression said it all. Negative.
“Need I remind that excavation is my specialty?” Hurricane put in, obviously feeling left out of the action.
“It’s not that kind of excavation,” Bishop said.
Hurricane regarded Nitro now. “Is it another bird shit fiasco?”
Bishop didn’t like keeping details from the Twelve but since his Petite mentioned Nitro liking Felix, he decided to hold his tongue. Especially since Felix once liked Hurricane. Did Hurricane know that? Was going to be fucking interesting to see his reaction to the little girl who used to like him while keeping her admiration for Nitro a secret.
“I’m handling it,” Nitro assured, making Bishop want to laugh at his confidence. Nothing was easy when a beautiful woman was involved. “Need another day or so.”
Or maybe year.
He decided to leave it for a private convo after the meeting. “We need to tighten up on everything,” Bishop announced, eyeing the clock. “Bacon, Patches. Supplies. Make sure there’s more than enough. Plan for the worst. Traps, if you have anything fun and new, this is where we want it. Same goes for all of you. I want to know every single asset we have. Everything,” he stressed. “Would like to get these devils done before Le Piere Noel visits our swamp this year, yes?”
They all nodded with eager approval.
“We’ve got twenty minutes before showtime. You fools rolling the Fate dice at various stages of this process, right? I can tell you now, I’d like only one of you to be the Parleur for the remaining Twelve in this match making business. You can start your dice roll with picking that person. Whoever it is will need to display impeccable manners while expressing the needs for the horny cocks strutting outside the hen house.” Bishop realized they didn’t have time for dice rolls. “Second thought, I’ll decide.” He pointed across the table. “Spook. You’ll act as Parleur and represent the needs and decisions of the remaining Twelve.”
He nodded then muttered, “You got it, Boss.”
Bishop raked a hand through his hair. “Yall need to lay out everything you want, need, can’t have, must have,” he instructed, finger-stabbing the table at each item. “Get the messy out. Here and now. Consolidate it all and Spook will handle the chivalrous shit.”
At seeing Spook’s brows raise on that one, Bishop assured, “I have faith in you Mon Freire.
“Good to know. Pass me some,” he half joked.
Bishop spied Ruckus finger raised. “Yes?”
“All that I know is yours. All the skills I’ve acquired and the gifts I’ve honed—also yours. I only ask for one man in payment. The Noctambule’s Pura Malum. He’s mine to kill as I see fit.”
Bishop eyed him. “Who the hell is that?”
“My coven’s Father.”
The utter loathe in that one word packed a world of pain he’d rather not know about just yet. He considered the request along with who he was to Seer. “If it’s up to me, you got it. But it’s not just up to me. The Auditors would need to determine that. If it can’t be discerned, they will let the Fate Dice decide it.”
He nodded after a few seconds. “Thank you.”
Bishop looked at all of them and spread his palms at them. “None of you have a fucking clue what you want? Wedding bells are ringing, your dicks are in the fucking door, what’s the plan?” He whacked the table several times bringing mumbled words bumping into each other as they half-baked ideas trickled out. It didn’t take long before the yells and laughter followed the mindless gibber.
“Hey!” Spook yelled. “Let’s start with asking 8-Bit what the hell he put on this application.” Spook regarded him. “Assuming you got with the Belle Eveque on those particulars?”
“I did,” he said. “We sort of divided it up into three phases. The first phase, which is what we’ve already done, includes the basic information like physical details, medical history, criminal records and a photo. They also get to select which of the Twelve they’re most interested in. From most favorite to least. Those who qualify from there, we pick our favorite five and move them to phase two which is a written test that would determine levels of intelligence. Those who pass this go to the next phase with highest scores first.”
“What’s that stage?” Hurricane pressed, impatient.
“The interview. We get to secretly watch as the current wives ask the questions we’re jacking off about now. Also, if we choose the same women in phase two, we roll the dice in the manner we agreed.”
“Remind me what that is?” Patches said.
“Process of elimination,” 8-Bit answered. “We roll till there’s only one “yes” remaining. That’s our winner. The one who comes up short would pick their next option from the remaining desirables.”
They all nodded with Bacon’s, “And then what?”
“I think she’d like at least five women per leader to bring to the ball where we’d hopefully find one we”re attracted to for official courting. From there…” he shrugged. “Not sure. She’s working on those details.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Hurricane muttered. “When do we get to know or see the first round of qualifiers?”
8-Bit pulled out his phone and hit a few buttons. His brows rose. “So far, we have three hundred and twelve filled applications.”
“H-o-ly shit,” Spar muttered among sounds of astonishment.
“Had no idea there were so many females in the hoard,” Bullets said.
“All the thick ones, y’all can pass to me,” Traps said.
8-Bit said, “Considering each hatch has roughly three hundred families with an average of one eligible woman in at least three fourths of that, we should expect a lot more.”
“How much more, exactly?” Shank wondered.
Bishop had to grin at the utter terror in his voice. Like he’d be required to marry all of them.
8-Bit slid his hand over his short cropped hair. “Two hundred twenty-five women per hatch I’d say. Assuming they give that much of a rats ass about all of us.”
“And if they don’t give a whole rats ass?” Spar asked, not hiding his own alarm over the numbers.
“I don’t know… maybe half that?”
“Bruh, I use a fuckin’ calculator and I didn’t bring mine,” Bullets muttered.
“Well, if they give a whole rats ass about us, then twenty-seven hundred,” 8-Bit said.
Bishop couldn”t keep his laugh in at the comical amount of shock that hit their faces. Spook and his father joined, then Lesion and Seer. Bishop pulled his phone out and got the camera up, snapping shots of this historical event on their astonished faces while they continued howling it out.
“They look like they’re waiting for a fuckin” castration,” Lazure barely managed, bringing another round of table smacking and bellows.
“So who’s winning?” Patches wondered over the noise.
“Winning what?” Spook asked.
“Who’s most popular?” Patches clarified. “Which of us is getting the most picks?”
This had all of them eyeing 8-Bit who slid his fingers along his screen. The raise of his brows put them at the edge of their seat. “It’s all interestingly close. So far, Nitro is in the lead by two, followed by Hurricane. Then I’m three below that, Patches is five below me, Shank is three below Patches. Spar is one below Shank with Bullets three below Spar and… Bacon is trailing Bullets by one.”
“Well, where the fuck am I?” Traps wondered incredulous. “Floating around in space?”
Bishops snicker slipped out.
“It’s early,” 8-Bit said. “I’m sure there’s plenty coming. You can easily take the lead.”
“This is a competition too?” Hurricane wondered, ready to have action anywhere he could get it.
“I’m sure the brave ones are coming,” Bacon offered Traps with a grin.
“Your reputation precedes you, I think,” 8-Bit said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Traps said, sounding ready to fight.
Shank leaned forward, looking at Traps. “Maybe that raw organ stench you carry around ain’t winning you no lady points.”
“Or that parade where you used your sister to show off your trapping skills,” Bacon remembered.
“Oh shit, right,” Spar laughed. “I think she ended up having to go to the hospital for blisters and blood clots?”
“That one made it in the Nouvelles,” Bullets remembered with a fond nod.
“I remember it. She almost died,” Patches said, adding more doom to his prospects.
“Maybe we should make allowances for a couple of specials,” Bullets chuckled.
“How about you suck on abullet,” Traps said, grabbing his dick. A real big one.”
“Okay, let’s focus on something besides your dicks,” Bishop said.
“When do we get to know what kind of music they like?” Shank asked. “I’ve been thinking about this stuff.” He stared at the table with wide eyes. “I’m pretty damn sure I won’t survive hearing country music on a daily.”
This got a dark chuckle from Bullets. “Bruh, all I can think about is my bullet room. And her wantin’ to clean it.”
“Well, my house looks like a psyche ward,” Patches muttered, looking at them. “Run by the insane.”
“I ain’t changing a fucking thing,” Traps assured. “She’ll love me as I am or fall on the big rope.”
This threw them all into a fit of laughter. Fuck, they were a lot of fun when dating.
“When do we talk about that uh…what the hell you call it…” Bacon snapped, thinking. “…that shit about how to behave around a woman?”
Bishop let out a snort. “You telling me you forgot the manners your momma taught you?” That was a hard sell considering his mother was the choir leader at his church’s hatch.
His eyes popped. “I mean it’s more than manners, id’n it? Ain’t there some kind of like…list of definitelydo and definitely don’t you dare fuckin’do?”
“There are public lists and then there are private ones,” Lazure said. “Belle Eveque may have the public one, but only your future wife has the private one. And you’ll have to learn it as you go. Life makes those list. Out of the fucking blue.”
Bishop had to grin at that while thinking they definitely all needed a nice long lesson on such things, along with any and all lists that existed.
“I’d like a copy of whatever she has,” Spar said.
“I’d like two,” Shanks said. “One to read, one to piss on.”
Bullets chuckled. “In that case, I’ll take three.”
“Yeah?” Hurricane said. “Then I’ll take five and show all you coonasses how it’s done.”
“Here comes the wind,” 8-Bit laughed. “How about you, Nitro? How many you need?”
He shook his head at the table. “Think I might need a whole box of them.”
The laughs started again, and Bullets patted him on the shoulder right as the Basilique doors opened and their angels walked in.
“Gentlemen,” Bishop yelled, getting their attention as he stood.
They followed suit, assuming he’d wanted them to. He hadn’t but was glad they did.