2. II
II
Spencer
P sycho dominated the kitchen, his bare back on display, tattoos of screaming souls dancing in the artificial light. I was used to being the first person awake in the morning. With the rising sun came a stagnant space in time where I’d clear my head, compartmentalise my trauma like a pro and set up my day for being a badass motherfucking bitch.
Instead, it was filled with god-awful church organs, and as of two weeks before, my sister’s new beefed-up psycho of a boyfriend.
We were at Variant Sanctorum, the wealthiest church in Junction City. Fat load of good that was, since we were buried in the catacombs beneath. We lived amongst the dead, surviving off scraps and breathing in asbestos or equally contaminated air from our skeletal neighbours.
Our humble living area consisted of one large space; a basic kitchen lined one side and a cheap, uncomfortable sofa was on the other, the expanse of floor between covered in fighting mats. That summation was the full extent of our temporary residence and crumbling home, coined the Temple. Open plan living, eat your heart out.
I straddled one of the stools at the kitchen island, my chihuahua Frankenstein curling up into a ball at my feet.
I sighed. “This place is too fucking crowded.”
“What’d you say there, Killer? Couldn’t hear you?” Psycho called over his shoulder.
“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” I said louder.
Psycho turned with a dramatic pout, midnight blue hair falling into his eyes. “Where am I supposed to go? I’m a fugitive on the run. Anyone would recognise this face.”
“Yeah…and run away screaming.”
He smirked. “True, it makes your sister scream all the time.”
I fake gagged, and he placed a full coffee cup in front of me, which I accepted without preamble.
Despite the perceived hostility, I liked him—he was good for my sister. Micah was our leader, the reliable voice of reason and elected referee. She had been on an undercover mission to infiltrate Oakview Asylum with the single goal of bleeding information from Psycho by any means necessary… She fell in love with him instead. Insert eyeroll here.
We all worked together to break him out and rescue his sister, Ava, in the process. Although the circumstances were messy, I’d never regret saving them, all for the effect he had on Micah. It was the first time since our eldest sister Chase’s death that Micah had let her guard down and relaxed her well-maintained veneer of self-control. It was enlightening to watch her give into her emotions and allow herself permission to care for someone outside of our family circle.
Right on cue, Ava and Emerson entered the communal area from their shared room—which was a given as there were four crudely carved bedrooms in total. Micah and Psycho were together, Tanner refused anyone entering his personal space and there was no way in hell our new addition was rooming with me.
If you couldn’t tell, I’m not fond of sharing. One bathroom, people. I repeat: one fucking bathroom.
My gaze bounced between them, their appearances contrasting one another. Similar to her brother, Ava replicated a thunderous, brewing storm, long, dark blue hair, severe grey eyes and all sharp angles. Emerson was her light counterpart with sunshine blonde strands, striking blue orbs and a deceiving innocent face to match.
They sat on either side of the island, Fran jumping up to settle into Ava’s lap.
“When’s Tanner getting back?” Psycho asked. “We need some testosterone in this place.”
“Fran takes offence to that,” Ava said, scratching the chihuahua behind the ears, who in turn growled in her brother’s direction.
Psycho scoffed. “He has the biggest dick to balls ratio of any species on this planet, and like a little bitch, he chooses pussy over his own gender…every damn time.”
Emerson snickered. “How is that different from any other male?” Psycho spared her an unimpressed glance. “What?” she asked.
“Just wondering if this sarcasm and sass is genetic. You know, since you all have it.” Psycho placed his palms over Ava’s ears. “No way are you Kings corrupting my baby sister.”
Right on time, Micah entered with a big yawn, showing us all her damn tonsils. Psycho lit up like he’d had a hit of Amp and she was his next fix. He placed a fresh mug of coffee in her hand, shepherding her half-asleep ass to the stool next to me.
After a cup—or five—Micah was alert enough to discuss our next course of action, the caffeine giving her golden skin a heated flush. Or is that because Psycho won’t stop fawning over her?
It was still weird to see her so accepting, receptive of another’s touch. In the past, if someone outside our family came in close proximity, she’d act as if her flesh was melting from her bones. Even so, we knew her boundaries, how much she could tolerate. With Psycho, it was like she had none at all.
“The meeting with Vice is in a couple of days. We have to figure out how we’re going to go about this. All guns blazing or stealthy precision?”
“—all guns blazing.”
“—stealthy.”
Emerson and I interrupted at the same time. Three guesses on who said what.
A couple weeks ago, when Micah went on a solo exploration mission into the Caverns, she managed to meet our long lost supposed dead uncle, Oscar Masatino. She soon ensured that the treacherous cunt legitimately stopped breathing, but not before overhearing some vital info.
The new gang he had sworn allegiance to not only made Ludus their little bitch, but they also had an upcoming meeting with Vice. We fully intended to gatecrash, hence my very taxing rendezvous’ and infiltration measures into Vice territory.
Psycho remained behind Micah, absentmindedly playing with her glossy brown hair. “I’ll vote in favour of whatever you choose, baby.”
Micah fucking preened, Emerson groaned and I rolled my eyes. “You don’t get a vote.”
Psycho didn’t reply, instead giving me one of his serial killer smiles as Ava piped up in the corner. “Wouldn’t it be more beneficial if you go in undercover, potentially gain more intel when they speak freely rather than under duress?”
Clearly, she’d never seen anyone questioned under duress.
Before my thought could be voiced aloud, Psycho narrowed his soulless black eyes, silently warning me to keep my mouth shut…or else. My lips lifted in challenge.
Micah huffed. “You actually have a point, Ava. We don’t know anything about this new gang and what this meeting involves. If we infiltrate this undercover, we can assess the situation and, if needed, go in all guns blazing.”
I retrieved one of my hidden lollipops and popped it in my mouth, the sugar subsiding my annoyance at the change in hierarchy. For so long, it had only been my sisters and Tanner. I didn’t like the new additions thinking they had a say in our revenge.
Emerson didn’t give a fuck, most likely because her new best friend and roomy sided with her. Traitor.
Micah pulled out her phone, which was vibrating non-stop, her face draining of colour. Psycho’s head popped up, reading over her shoulder as a genuine grin dominated his face. Micah displayed her screen for all of us to see.
Mayor Arthur Oakview – Dead Overnight.
Cause of death believed to be suicide by hanging, suffered multiple injuries from the trauma, including a dislocated jaw.
Beneath the headline were a range of photos. The first of a handsome, middle-aged man with brown eyes, wearing an expensive, tailored suit. The next image was a staged family photograph, his fake smug smile accompanied by his equally phony wife, son and daughter.
My heart rate spiked. “Oh. Ohhhhhhh … I knew I recognised him from somewhere.”
Micah’s elbows hit the benchtop, fingers rubbing at her temples. “Tell me you had nothing to do with this.”
“I had nothing to do with this.”
“I mean it, Spence.”
I shrugged. “If only you knew why. He was a politician through and through.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was a lying, cheating scumbag who also happened to be a sadist. Particularly interested in the non-consensual kind, if you catch my drift.”
Emerson laughed, aghast. “Where?”
“Playhouse.”
Ava’s gaze bounced between us all, features scrunched up in confusion as if her brother wasn’t a former gladiator who used to tear people apart for a living.
Micah sighed. “This isn’t the best timing, Spence. We have a lot riding on this Vice meeting. We can’t fuck this up.”
“Then send me in. I’d deal with it.”
“Alone?”
“The meeting is in Serpents Row. Nobody here knows that place better than me. Plus, didn’t you just say we have to stay low-key as much as possible?”
Emerson snorted. “Then why would we send you?”
I transitioned my face into an exact replica of my dear sister, and as my red hair converted into blonde tresses, I mimicked my voice into her snarky, smartass tone. “Because I’ll just show up looking like you, innocent and meek.”
She swiped out at me, barely missing as I vaulted back, balancing on two legs of my stool.
Micah stood to pour another refill of coffee. She was going to get the jitters soon. “Alright, it’s settled then. Spencer will infiltrate the meeting and alert us if we’re needed.” Her amber eyes bore into mine, the exact shade and shape of both our father and Chase. The similarity unnerved me. No matter how much time passed since their deaths, it always did. “Please don’t kill anyone until we get the info we need. Can you promise me that?”
I raised a dramatic salute to my brow, and she gave a firm nod in return. Turning, she disappeared into her room, probably to fall back asleep. How she could rest after copious amounts of caffeine was beyond me.
Ava and Emerson rummaged through the fridge to start on breakfast, and Psycho commandeered the vacant spot next to me. “For what it’s worth, I wanted to vote with you. Go in all guns blazing.”
I gave him a drool look, lollipop popping into my cheek. “You’re no better than Fran.”
My dog yelped, agreeing with my sentiment.
Psycho’s black gaze drifted down to the image of Mayor Oakview, Micah’s phone left open on the counter. “If only I got to carve out his eyes.”
I shifted my apathetic gaze over the lovesick fool. “Let me guess. It involves Micah?” Psycho shrugged. “He died with an erection, if that helps,” I offered.
“You know what, I think it does. I’m satisfied to know he died unsatisfied. You tried to extract his lower jaw, didn’t you?”
I snorted. “I’ll get it next time.”
“You will, cause I’ll teach you.”
Emerson grumbled. “Saints, save us all.”
Psycho placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. He was going insane since we forbade him from smoking in our underground crypt of a home. I snatched it out of his mouth and offered a peace offering from my hidden stash of lollipops instead, which he accepted with a sigh. Maybe he could be a part of the family after all.