Mercy Is For Saints (Eidolon #1)

Prologue

“It’s the perfect day to celebrate our sons’ graduation,” my father says, lifting his glass as Caleb’s dad steers the yacht away from the dock.

“It definitely is,” I reply, teeth bared in something that might pass for a grin.

We graduated yesterday, finally, and now everything can change. Caleb, Beau, and I have this last family event to endure, after this, the masks come off.

“I’m proud of you,” my father adds, his voice too smooth. Jonas Karsen, the monster who gave me his blood and nothing else. My mother presses a glass of wine into my hand, and I grip the stem so tightly it creaks.

“Thanks,” I manage.

“Look at you three,” Beau’s dad says, raising his drink. “Who would’ve thought the skinny kids who spent all day gaming would grow up to be beasts?”

Aaron should be here, he was the fourth in our pack, the brother who never made it onto this boat. The one our parents slaughtered, along with his mother and little sister, for daring to get too curious. Aaron’s father uncovered one of their secrets and paid for it in blood.

If they hadn’t killed him, maybe we’d still be gaming, still laughing, still dreaming about futures that didn’t reek of violence. Instead, we buried him in silence and carried the weight like a vow.

“How much longer do we have to sit through this shit?” Beau mutters, his fake smile plastered in place as he leans closer.

“Just a little more,” I whisper, keeping my gaze on the crystal glasses clinking above the pristine white napkins. “We need to be close to the slips.”

He exhales through his nose. We spent every holiday and every break at college away from them.

They knew why, but they didn’t care as long as we played the role of obedient sons and kept our mouths shut.

We knew that even if we tried to say anything, warn anyone, we would meet the same destiny as Aaron.

Caleb’s dad slows the yacht. “This looks like a good spot to drop anchor. Water’s perfect.”

I nod. Time to light the match.

We change into swim shorts. Caleb and Beau dive first, leaving the parents behind to bask in champagne and their own self-importance, bragging about which family business they’ll devour next.

“We’re going for a swim,” I say, forcing the words to sound casual.

“Don’t go too far, honey,” my mother calls, her voice dripping sugar-coated venom. Our mothers knew, they lured them for a fake dinner, they were the ones that gave them the sedative before our fathers faked the car accident.

“Sure,” I answer, keeping calm as I dive into the freezing water.

Caleb is already drifting; a smirk painted across his face. “GoPro rolling?”

Beau pulls it from a waterproof pouch, strapping it to his chest. “Gotta capture the memories, right?”

“Try not to look like you’re enjoying it,” Caleb says, kicking farther into open water.

Beau chuckles once. “Too late.”

We drift close enough to watch but far enough to survive. On deck, our parents raise their glasses, sunlight dancing across crystal as they toast to legacy.

The world ignites.

The explosion rips through the sky, a wall of fire swallowing the yacht as glass and steel erupt into the air. Heat slaps my skin, screams tearing through the smoke.

We duck under the water, lungs burning.

When we surface, black smoke coils into the sky. Beau pans the camera across the inferno, embers floating like dying stars on the water’s surface.

“Oh my God!” someone screams from the dock.

Panic spreads: shouts, running feet, boats scrambling in every direction. The marina erupts into chaos.

Caleb swims beside me, hair slicked back, eyes hard. “Think that cooler had Dom or Veuve?”

Beau grins. “Whatever it was, it’s flaming now.”

I watch the skeleton of steel crackle and sink, flames devouring the people who raised us: liars, manipulators, killers who smiled while spilling blood.

Beau unclips the camera, holds it above the water with one hand like a goddamn Oscar-winning director.

“That’s one way to end a family vacation,” he mutters, his grin sharp.

“Let’s cue the panic,” I murmur, just as the boats approach, sirens playing in the background.

“What the hell happened? Please, save them!” Caleb screams the moment they start hauling us out of the water.

I have to bite down so hard on my cheek to keep from laughing, I taste blood, the fucker even looks like he’s crying. Hell, maybe he is, he’s always been the better actor.

We’re wrapped in blankets, sitting on the dock as firefighters and paramedics rush around in chaos. The stink of fuel and burning flesh still lingers in the air.

“You shouldn’t be witnessing this,” a lady cop tells us gently, handing over bottles of water like that’s going to fix anything.

Two bodies get fished from the water.

Another officer walks up behind her, whispering something low. She gasps.

“I’m so sorry… There are no survivors so far.” Her voice cracks and we just nod.

No shit. That was the point.

We keep our sad eyes on, like they’re a mask.

Grief.

Shock.

Trauma.

Two detectives walk over, one of them holding Beau’s GoPro in a gloved hand.

“The kids weren’t near the boat. The camera caught some smoke, and then it just… exploded,” the older detective says, locking eyes with me.

He knows who I am. Who we are.

He was the only one who gave a shit when Aaron and his family were slaughtered and buried in a report no one read, and he knows what this is, I can see it in his face.

He’ll make sure this gets stamped as a tragic accident. A freak mechanical fault, because the system failed once, and we didn’t.

“You three can go. A therapist is available if you need,” the other detective says as they turn and walk away.

Caleb leans closer, voice low and steady. “We’re free, Eiden.”

We are, finally, but now, this feeling? It’s something I want more.