13. XIII
XIII
Spencer
I entered the common area of the Temple with an excited air, which came to a halt as five sets of eyes unblinkingly geared my way, scanning my extravagant get-up.
Psycho’s jaw dropped open, but before he could say anything, Micah clamped a palm over his mouth. Then, Tanner sighed as if slotting into the unwanted role of my disappointed father.
“It’s a mourning dress,” I said in explanation. “Eternal Nights is about celebrating the dead. It doesn’t mean you have to look like them.” My brows raised as I blatantly scanned their dull black attire, which held no flare or semblance of life whatsoever.
Franny boy waddled up behind me, nipping at the black tutu wrapped around his middle. Micah pursed her lips, and Emerson chuckled as they all veered for the door.
After depositing Fran in Ava’s arms, I ran after them with the single source of light, the torch causing grotesque shadows to dance off the endless catacomb walls.
“Hold on, Meek, I need help with my veil.”
Emerson released a dramatic huff. “Maybe we should rethink the plan.”
I sped up and nudged into her side, pushing her off balance. “You know my plans are epic. This is going to work.”
“Of course this is going to work,” Micah said from the front, Psycho walking beside her. “But we’re wanting to get Aster on side, not give her a heart attack and add another casualty to the Kelly mausoleum.”
I flipped the flashlight beneath my chin, the illumination shining upward over my face. “She’s not the one you have to worry about,” I said, my tone menacing and eerie.
At that exact moment, Psycho flicked a glance over his shoulder, his eyes zoning in on my distorted, deranged grin. He jolted with shock, inadvertently misplacing his step, and tripped over something at his feet.
I shone the light on the offending object, a decayed skeleton staring up at him. “Fucking Saints,” he spluttered, staggering back into Tanner.
I cackled, the sound transitioning into a sinister death rattle, before switching my flashlight off, causing darkness to swallow us whole.
Micah squealed, and Psycho cussed. Emerson didn’t say a word, but her fingers tightened on my wrist almost to the point of snapping.
The torch was aggressively snatched from my grasp before being switched on by Tanner. He was the only one not sporting a pissed off expression, his miniscule smirk carving a dimple into his stubbled cheek. He tried to shake his head in disapproval, but I could see the amused gleam in his smoky brown eyes.
I clucked. “Three assassins and one undefeated gladiator, all scared of some tattered bones. Never thought I’d see the day.” They all turned and proceeded en route, ignoring my taunts. “Gosh. Can no one take a joke anymore?”
Quiet was all that followed. Rolling my eyes, I submitted to their sour moods, unwrapped some gum and whispered, “Bunch of pussies.”
The repetitive bubbles popped from my mouth, the lone sound resounding through the stagnant atmosphere as we weaved through the underground towards Nightingale Cemetery.
ECHO
Our bulletproof, tinted car crawled to a stop outside the Kelly mausoleum, the cloudless night shrouding the graveyard in moonlit wonder. As our driver reached to open the back door, I flipped the locks, turning full-bodied to Aster beside me in the back seat.
“I know today is important to you. But this is dangerous, Aster. The Ludus is still in hiding. Not to mention the dangers of this location in general.”
We were surrounded by elaborate tombstones and extravagant crypts, Nightingale Cemetery a pompous brag for those who had too much money to know what to do with. The place was drowning in priceless treasures for only the dead to admire.
Due to the display of riches thrown around the place, grave robbers were a huge issue centuries before. Now, families took it upon themselves to booby trap the homes of their resting loved ones. After multiple casualties, the haunting grounds remained silent. Except for today—the celebration of Eternal Nights.
Aster scanned my face, the intensity making my skin prickle. “Don’t ever presume to tell me what to do?—”
“I wouldn’t. Your safety is paramount, Aster. That is my one concern—my only concern.”
I only ever called her by her name in private. She had become more to me than just my mistress.
Her eyes softened ever so slightly before flicking the locks open. “I’ll pay my respects with or without you, Echo. Do not get in my way again.”
I shadowed her every move entering the Kelly crypt, shifting the stone door closed behind me, trapping us inside.
Eternal Nights was an annual festival where the souls of the deceased were commemorated, their lives remembered and honoured through their surviving relatives.
Aster had never missed one since I’d known her.
The Kelly tomb was prepared ahead of time, cleaned and decked out in flowers and ethereal candlelight. Distant sounds of celebration could be heard from outside, the cheerful tones drifting through the thick stone walls.
Aster strolled down the main aisle until she came to the lone marble sarcophagus eternalised up front. The love poured into the workmanship was undeniable, the design complex, carvings elaborate.
It was the only time I ever saw my mistress vulnerable; when she looked over her sister’s resting place with utter devotion. Lyssa Kelly had passed before I had the chance to meet her, although from what little intel I could gather, she was a formidable individual to behold.
I sat next to Aster in the front pew, passively letting my presence be felt.
She loosened a long breath and spoke for the first time in hours. “You should be out celebrating. Not wasting your time with my dead family.”
“ You are my family, Aster. The only one I’ve got.”
Her red gaze met mine, the openness in their depths startling, before tilting her head in acknowledgement.
When she opened her mouth to reply, an abrupt gust of wind swept through the crypt, all candles winking out of existence.
Glowing smoke crept over Lyssa’s sarcophagus, swiftly enveloping the floor with thick white clouds. My eyes strained through the poor visibility, senses reactive to the now-electrifying air. Moonlight illuminated through the slits in the concrete tomb, barely enough to produce shadows.
In two seconds flat, I was on my feet, gun drawn with Aster guarded behind my back. Then, an unnatural keening broke the silence, my eardrums grating against the high-pitched wail.
Smoke began to clear, slowly unveiling a delicate female figure resting gracefully against Lyssa’s grave. A black gown draped over her body, long lace gloves enveloped her hands and an opaque veil fell low over her front, concealing its bearer entirely.
The bedevilled image was both evocative and frightening, resembling a creepy fucking ghost from the Victorian era.
“BOO!” shouted a high, intoxicating voice. I flinched, my finger automatically pulling on the trigger in retaliation, causing gunshots to fire in rapid sequence.
Aster pulled on my arm, the ringing of bullets subsiding from her order.
Then, the image began to crystallise and the silhouette lifted her veil, displaying the face beneath. A mirage made from my most inner demons and deepest wants appeared before me.
It’s her. In all her red-headed, sweet-lipped glory.
The object of my greatest triumph and even greater regret, placed directly in front of me like a ferryman calling me down to hell like I so well deserved. She sat on top of the smoking sarcophagus, leaning back on her outstretched hands in leisure.
How many times had I seen her like that? Countless.
Her green eyes bled into me—or directly through me. Either way, I refused to blink, knowing that when I did, she would disappear again.
Like. Every. Other. Time.
My heart splintered with every tortured beat. Her mouth was wide and gleaming as if holding all the secrets in the world, almost implying that with enough begging, your knees bloody and grazed from kneeling in her presence, she may grant you favour.
She is so fucking beautiful.
My mind, body and soul screamed out in anguish. Always the same distant echo.
Loss. Loss. Loss.
“ Who —” Aster stuttered behind me as if she was caught in the same illusion I was.
My mind folded in on itself.
I broke eye contact and spared a glance behind me at Aster, whose sole attention was trained on the ghostly figure. My pulse quickened when the lingering scent of sweet candy hit my nostrils, realisation taking hold. She survived .
Aster stepped around me, transfixed in her direction, and my fingers involuntarily flexed on my gun.
“Who are you and why are you here?” Aster asked, her tone calm. However, I could hear the underlying desperation, the slight shift in her cadence.
Something is off. Hell, this whole fucking scenario is off.
My candy girl smiled wider if that was even possible, her porcelain canines almost elongating in the glowing light, looking every bit the man-eater she was.
“My name is Spencer,” she said, her familiar voice causing electrifying static to incapacitate my nerve endings. “ Spencer King . On behalf of my late father and the Sovereign, we are here to strike a deal.” Her candy apple eyes ignited with an authoritative fire that ruled over all manner of man.
Aster didn’t reply, her mask stoic as she processed her command. There was a significant shift occurring, tension escalating. I was missing something—something vital.
“We?” Aster asked.
Before Spencer could reply, a heavy stone side panel of the crypt shifted open.
I refused to lower my gun, scanning the four new arrivals, strapped to the teeth with various weapons. Their strides were confident and sure, each holding a lit candle as they ventured into death’s cradle without a second thought.
I instantly recognised the infamous Psycho, a cigarette hanging from his lips, the former gladiator from Ludus Maximus. Last I’d heard, he’d escaped the confines of Oakview and disappeared into the ether.
He remained a hairsbreadth behind a pretty brunette, amber eyes scanning my length from top to bottom, her mouth lifting into an unimpressed scowl.
Following up the rear was a tiny blonde who barely reached my chest, accompanied by a strikingly handsome man who gave off an aloof air, brown eyes staring blankly into space as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there.
They casually settled themselves amongst the sarcophagus and Spencer, who remained sitting casually on top. Despite their diverse features, they were all attractive, objectively speaking, sporting casual, all-black attire.
Spencer scoffed, breaking the wired atmosphere. “I don’t know why you keep that thing pointed at us. You have terrible aim.”
I attempted to flip the barrel her way, yet my muscles refused to follow through with the call. My subconscious was loath to put her in any semblance of danger ever again.
Aster pushed down on my wrist until my hand lay limp at my sides.
I was entirely conflicted, unbridled feelings clashing together creating a maelstrom of chaos. Above all else, I had to protect Aster, get her to safety—except my soul screamed out to stay, to remain in Spencer’s presence, no matter the consequences.
Aster casually sat down in the pew, crossing her legs to mirror Spencer’s. “Welcome back, Kings.” The spoken name was a declaration of power that charged with electrifying static in the dead, confined space.