Chapter 5 On the Edge #2
My brothers exchanged a look I pretended not to notice. They thought I was being obsessive. I preferred to think of it as thorough.
“What’s our protocol when we meet her?” Ko asked.
“I’ll go over it on the drive in detail, but in short, assessment first, followed by appropriate response.
She’s either a threat or she isn’t. If she’s aligned with Arabesque’s interests, she’s a plant, possibly with instructions to gather intelligence or worse.
If she’s a direct threat, we eliminate her before she can report back or activate whatever trap has been set. ”
The words came easily, without emotion. A simple tactical assessment. We’d been raised by a vampire who viewed emotions as tactical disadvantages. Sentiment was a luxury for those without enemies.
“And if she’s neither?” he pressed.
“Then she’s collateral damage in whatever game Arabesque is playing. Either way, she’s not our concern beyond ensuring she doesn’t compromise our position before we part ways after the year.”
“Or part her,” Zane smirked with a leer.“How many potential bride elimination scenarios have you constructed, Cas?
“Seventeen, each with their own set of contingencies.” I shrugged. “Look, Ko, regardless of the woman, the job remains the same: Secure the estate, establish defensive perimeters, and maintain vigilance for the duration of the contract.”
Ko frowned. He’d been stuck on the scenario that she was a victim, an innocent, ever since we returned from Father’s palace.
As if, I scoffed silently. This isn’t a moon-damned fairy tale! A virtuous soul doesn’t just stumble into a Dark witch’s web!
Unless she had somehow.
It was a ridiculous variable, one that didn’t deserve my consideration, but I decided I’d create a spreadsheet for it nonetheless. Just to be thorough, not because it was a probability.
“Time to move,” I announced, shouldering my bag. “Ko, you’re driving. Z, rear security. I’ll take point.”
They nodded, falling into the familiar pattern without complaint. Three brothers, moving with the synchronicity that came from years of fighting side by side. We might bicker and snipe, but when it mattered, we functioned as a single unit.
As we pulled away from the curb, I watched our apartment building recede in the side mirror. No emotional attachment there, just another temporary shelter in a lifetime of transience.
Our next destination: An estate with security, staff, and financial resources. A base of operations we could fortify and defend. And a bride who might be victim, villain, or something in between.
Well, whatever she turned out to be, I was prepared. We all were. No illusions. No sentimentality. No mercy.
Just survival.
Same as every other day.
#
Zane
I tossed a silver dagger into the air, catching it by the blade between two fingers just to see Casimir’s left eye twitch.
My favorite pastime. Annoying my older brother while he tried to be all serious and strategic.
The way his jaw clenched as he pretended not to notice?
Pure poetry. I lounged in the back seat, one foot propped up on a gun crate.
“So,” I drawled, spinning the dagger on one fingertip, “who wants to bet on how many people our lovely bride-to-be has murdered? I’m putting fifty on at least three. Dark witch training and all that.”
“This isn’t a joke, Zane.”
“Everything’s a joke if you’re funny enough,” I told Koa, grinning as I flipped the dagger into a sheath on my belt. “C’mon, lighten up. We’re getting a free house, a fat treasury, and front-row seats to whatever disaster Arabesque has planned. If that’s not entertainment, I don’t know what is.”
“Zane, I am trying to work.” Cas didn’t even bother glancing my way as he tapped on his precious tablet. “Occupy yourself with something that does not continually assault my ears.”
“Yes, sir, Captain No-Fun, sir,” I saluted and pretended to zip my mouth closed. For five seconds. “Do we get fancy new clothes for this shindig? Or do we just show up bloody and shirtless like usual? I want to make a good first impression on Future Widow.”
That made Cas’ head snap up, green eyes narrowing at me over his shoulder.
“Future what?”
“Widow,” I repeated cheerfully. “You know, since we’re either going to kill her or she’s going to try to kill us. Either way, someone’s ending up dead and widowed, and my money’s on us surviving. Hence, Future Widow.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Cas huffed. “If she’s the dead one, she’s not a widow.”
“What is she, then? Huh? Huh?” I pestered to get a rise out of our resident cyborg.
“Just dead, you dumbass!” he snarled. “We would be widowers. She would just be dead.”
“Okay, Future Dead. Doesn’t have quite the same ring, but I can work with it.”
“You’re horrible,” Koa muttered.
“I am, and I love it.”
While Cas calculated odds and Ko brooded about deeper meanings, I embraced the beautiful insanity of our existence. This marriage contract? Just another game to play.
“What if she’s actually, like, hot?” I suggested, just to see their reactions.
The identical looks of disgust I received were worth their weight in gold. Casimir’s expression practically screamed, “Does not compute,” while Koa’s brow furrowed like I’d suggested adopting a pet nuclear bomb.
“Irrelevant,” Cas replied finally, turning back to his tablet.
“She’s being forced into this, same as us,” Ko muttered.
“Yeah, and?” I shrugged, fiddling with the leg ties on my gun belt. “That just means she’ll be extra spicy. Makes it more fun.”
“This isn’t about fun,” Cas said, his tone clipped. “This is about securing our future and maintaining vigilance against potential threats.”
“Blah, blah, strategy, blah,” I mimicked. “You can call it whatever helps you sleep at night, big brother. I’m calling it what it is: The most entertaining shit show we’ve had in years.”
And I meant it. The anticipation tingled under my skin like electricity. Who was this woman? What would she be like? How would she react to us? To me? The possibilities were endless, and each one promised its own unique flavor of chaos.
If she turned out to be Dark, aligned with Arabesque’s schemes?
I’d get to peel back her layers one by one, find the cracks in her facade, push and prod until she either broke or revealed her true nature.
Nothing more satisfying than watching a liar’s mask slip, catching that moment of realization when they knew they’d been found out.
If she was dangerous, I’d make her doubt herself. Every confident decision, every strategic move, undermined by a carefully placed word or look. I’d worm my way into her head until she couldn’t tell paranoia from reality.
If she was weak? I’d find every insecurity and exploit it. Oh, not out of cruelty—well, not entirely—but because chaos revealed truth. Push someone to their limits, and you discover who they really are, and I wanted to know exactly who our bride was, beneath whatever mask she wore.
And if she was innocent, like Ko feared? Oh, that would be even better. A sheep sacrificed to the monsters literally. I’d get to see what she was made of, test her limits, find out just how much she could take before she snapped. Would she cry? Scream? Fight back? My brain itched with curiosity.
Still, I wasn’t stupid. Arabesque Harrow was dangerous, and anything or anyone connected to her warranted caution. I just preferred my caution with a side of anarchy.
“Hope she’s at least pretty,” I smirked when the silence stretched too long.
“Irrelevant,” Cyborg Cas responded. Seemed to be his word of the day.
“Says you,” I shot back. “Some of us have to look at her for a year. I, for one, would prefer something nice to stare at over breakfast.”
“You’re going to terrorize her, aren’t you?” In the rearview, Ko gave me a look that was half exasperation, half warning.
“Me?” I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. “I’m a delight. Just ask anyone I haven’t killed.”
“That’s a short list,” Cas muttered.
“Quality over quantity, bro! Ooo, but do you know what I’m most excited about? Finding out what makes her tick! Everyone has buttons. You just have to know where to push.”
“Dark knows, you can push buttons,” Ko deadpanned.
“Very, very well,” I owned with fake solemnity, then burst into a wide grin. “Cruor, Ko! Embrace the storm, dance in the flames, and see what emerges from the ashes!”
“More like what shit emerges from your ass.”
That made me howl like a red-headed demon.
Oh, wait. I was a red-headed demon.
“Three brothers, one bride, and a year-long contract sealed in blood and vows. Tell me that’s not the most fucked-up reality show premise you’ve ever heard. Wait. Who gets first dance at the wedding? Rock, Paper, Scissors for it?”
“You’ll cheat,” they said together.
“Man, I hope there’s cake at the reception. Or at least cookies. No, no, a cookie cake, right, Ko?”
He shook his head, but I caught the ghost of a smile. Success. Making the mountain move was always a personal victory.
“What about last names?” I continued, unable to resist pushing further. “Are we Mr. and Mrs. Cimmerian? Or do we hyphenate and go with Mr. and Mrs. Cimmerian-Dead Bride Walking? These are important questions, Cas. I need to know!”
“It’s a political arrangement, Z, not a romance novel,” he muttered, not taking the bait.
“You say that now,” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows, “but a year is a long time to share living space. Things happen. Tension builds. Forbidden glances across the dinner table.”
“I’ll forbid you from speaking, and enjoy the silence.”
“You’d miss my insightful commentary,” I shot back, bouncing my knee as my fingers drummed on an ammo box. “Who else would point out when you’re being an uptight ass?”
“Literally anyone with eyes,” Koa interjected, earning a green-eyed glare from Cas and a hoot from me.
“See?” I laughed. “Even Koala Bear agrees with me!”
When we finally got on the highway, Cas spent the next hour outlining his fifty-point protocol for our arrival at our new digs.
“Phase Three: In the event cover fire is needed during disembarkment—”
“Bat’s bones! My brain is melting out of my ears!” I shouted.
What if she sees the monster behind the glitter? A teeny, tiny voice suddenly whispered in my ear. What if she kisses it, anyway?
Needing fresh air, I rolled down my window, stuck my head out, and howled like the world was ending or my heart was breaking.
Couldn’t tell the difference anymore, anyway.