24. XXIV
XXIV
Spencer
D emons knocked on the outskirts of my sanity. Aster laughed at me—laughed at us. The bitch was crazy. The only explanation for her unhinged reaction. One glance at Emerson and I knew her switch was nearing the point of flipping. Soon enough, Aster would be dead, and we’d never get answers.
I learnt my lesson from Appleberry. Death was the easy way out. No matter what, Aster was going to talk, by whatever means necessary.
I launched towards her, simultaneously straddling her waist as Emerson slipped her hand around her throat from behind and pulled her head flush against the headrest. I tapped the barrel of my pistol against her high cheekbones and let her read the desperation in my eyes.
The dumb bitch sobered fast, giggles choking in her throat as her muscles grew taut beneath my body, anchored above hers.
I flipped the incriminating photo of Aster and the mysterious woman and held it up over her face. “You’re going to tell me who the fuck this is,” I whispered, damn seething.
Emerson released Aster’s throat that bobbed with a hard swallow while her red eyes flipped between the image and me. I knew what she saw. I didn’t need a mirror to gauge the uncanny resemblance.
Her uninjured hand raised in passive approach, almost as if she had no control over the movement. Before she could reach me, Micah whacked it away with a flick of her wrist, standing strong at my back.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you try something,” I spat. “You will not touch me.” Fran jumped up on the armrest for support, growling into her face alongside me.
My little chihuahua only required a word and that pretty unblemished mask would be ripped to shreds. I thirsted for her screams, salivated for the secrets she had clearly hidden from us.
Taking the threat for what it was, her expression morphed into the most genuine one I’d ever seen. “I’d never hurt you, Spencer. Ever. I’d carve out my own heart before hurting you.”
“WHO ARE YOU TO ME!?”
“You’re my niece,” she said. I had to strain to hear the low tone of her defeated voice. “My younger sister… She was your mother.”
“Where is she?”
“Nightingale Cemetery.”
A sense of dread festered in my stomach as the vision of a marble sarcophagus raised in my mind. The elegant engraving of a name forever to remain immortalised in the Kelly crypt. Lyssa Kelly.
The dining room table was riddled with documents all in relation to my father, the Sovereign and my mother.
All of it was the generic bullshit that we’d already found over the years, but we all remained there anyway, siphoning through the paperwork with particular attentiveness.
I didn’t necessarily care that I had an identified biological mother. It was more the fact that Aster had valuable information that she’d been withholding.
As Kings, we were already wired to trust no one, to always question those who wanted to get close. Most, if not all , had skeletons they wanted to keep buried. And it seemed like Aster had a whole damn cemetery.
I didn’t like being played like a child, and with those revelations, I felt powerless, which was a foreign emotion in itself, making me angsty.
I turned to Aster, who deposited the last remainder of files on the wooden surface. “Enough stalling, Aster. Give us answers.” She dropped into the seat at the head of the table, lifted a glass of wine with her bandaged hand and took a sip. Her wary stare levelled on each King in turn, then, her features hardened as she gave us our past.
“Your father, Oliver King, was a charismatic, fascinating and ruthless man. When he wanted something, there was no one that could deny his request.” A truth we were all too familiar with, even as children. “The same went for your mother, Lyssa Kelly. When he set eyes on her, his response was immediate and relentless. He wanted Lyssa, and he’d stop at nothing to have her. I fought his request…but I had made one detrimental miscalculation. Lyssa wanted him, too.”
Micah frowned in exasperation. “He was married…and his wife was already pregnant with Chase. Why would Lyssa want him?”
“She wasn’t the only one,” Aster snapped, and my hand twitched. She better watch her fucking tone. “He was open and severely honest with Lyssa, and she accepted him despite those facts. He sold her on the elitist ideal of enhancing the next generation, going back to the days where Variants were worshipped rather than persecuted for their gifts. I knew he wanted to use his magic super sperm to con her into having a baby who would change the future.”
I crossed my arms. “Can’t fault him there. They did create me,” I said with an obnoxious air. Emerson subtly deflated at my words, which I instantly regretted. Father or not, fuck him for projecting his archaic views onto us, onto her. “So, Dad thought he could play God just because he had an amplifier Variant?”
Aster huffed. “That’s pretty self-explanatory by the women he chose to impregnate… All at the same time. Their Variants were already singular, quite impressive. His efforts did not go unfounded. With their shared DNA, he achieved what he always wanted: the elite of the next generation.” Aster raised her glass in silent cheers to us, the remainder of the King legacy.
I was equally impressed and disgusted, the conflict of emotions not unusual for the way I felt about my father.
“Oliver was a charmer,” Aster said. “Although, I never saw the appeal. Egotistical asshole.” I snorted at the accurate assessment before she continued. “When Lyssa fell pregnant, she moved into the King estate, alongside your mother,” she finished, gaze returning to my older sister.
Micah’s usually composed mask glitched before us as Psycho sat next to her, watching on with concern. “This is the first we’ve heard anything to do with our inception,” Micah said. “Our father never told us anything, and we never dared to ask. We only knew of his wife, Karena King, Chase’s mother, who passed away before we were born.”
Aster’s grip shook as she downed the rest of her wine before clearing her throat. “I never met her in person, but my sister only spoke highly of your mother, Micah. They were all living in some non-monogamous fantasy world where they believed they were producing the next generation of Variants that would conquer the world. I’m not sure what delusional shit Oliver was feeding these women, but he kept things strictly under wraps. Lyssa was tight-lipped, cautious in what she disclosed to me. I never understood, but my sister was the happiest she’d ever been, so who was I to determine what constitutes happiness?”
“What happened?”
“Karena happened.” Aster drew in a long breath. “Throughout that year, three babies were born, all approximately three months apart and all girls. Chase, Micah and Spencer respectively. Then, three months later, Oliver brought another baby girl home.”
Aster’s piercing eyes shifted to Emerson, who sat staring at the table, stoic and hardened as if she were frozen. At least I could see her breathing—barely. “Lyssa was ecstatic, alongside your mother, Micah, as Oliver asked them to raise her as their own.”
“Who’s my mother?” Emerson piped, her melodic voice laced with something sinister.
Aster shook her head. “Oliver never disclosed that information, not even to Lyssa.”
“What happened to them?” Tanner asked. I nearly forgot he was there until his calm voice cut through the tension.
A single tear escaped Aster’s eye. A true, legit fucking tear running down her cheek. “After the arrival of the fourth baby, Karena fell off the deep end. She lost her fucking mind. I’ve thought about it a lot over the years. Was it jealousy? Postnatal psychosis? Originally, she was in agreement, and actually supported Oliver in his vision. However, she never made a connection with the other women. If anything she ignored their existence. Did she initially just agree with Oliver in order not to lose him? In the end, we will never know. All we know is what happened after.”
At that point, Aster stood and began pacing, tension building in the lining of her muscles, Fran followed the movement, weighing if he should follow behind or not.
“Karena snapped and murdered Micah’s mother… She would have got the rest of you, too, if it wasn’t for Oliver’s intervention. Then, she went missing and everything imploded after that.” She shivered. “Oliver was…unhinged, hunting night and day to find his errant wife while my sister spiralled, unable to mourn her friend as she had four young babies depending on her.”
“I offered to help, and begged her to come back to me. I had my own power in Vice. I could protect her.” Aster shook her head. “Lyssa refused. She was terrified to leave the King Estate, scared that Karena would be waiting for her to finish what she started.”
“Until one day, she came to visit me. No forewarning, no plans. She’d come on her own, saying she needed to get out of the house, if only for a little bit. When she was returning to the King Estate, Karena was waiting for her.” Aster coughed…then coughed again. “You know the rest.”
“No, we don’t,” I said, so fucking sharp, I was surprised the windows didn’t crack from the impact. I didn’t care. It was our history; we deserved to fucking know our own lives.
Aster’s eyes raised and bled into mine with all-consuming emotion. “Karena… She hunted Lyssa, my sister. Butchered her like an animal. As if she wasn’t a mother, a fucking decent human being.”
Echo’s palm traced over my bouncing thigh. I was so far gone, I hadn’t noticed he was sitting right beside me. I should have shoved him away…but with his touch came a soft subtle warmth, chasing away the chill. I was cold, so damn cold .
Emerson visibly swallowed, shaking out of her stupor. “What happened to Karena after?”
“She’s been dead and gone for many years. Your father took care of that.”
“How?” Micah piped. I knew why she was asking. Nothing regarding Oliver King was ever straightforward.
“Your father put down his own wife like the defective animal she was.”
I scoffed. “How does no one know about this? Multiple murders, four babies. Like, what the fuck?”
“The Sovereign was a force to be reckoned with. But that massacre was the beginning of the end of your house.”
ECHO
Spencer stiffened. “And pray tell, Aunty , what do you know about the end of our house?”
Aster’s lips pinched as if they were sewn together. Until they undulated as she said, “You should request the Treasury for help.”
Micah scoffed. “You know as well as I. One does not contact the Treasury… They contact you.” Then, her spine straightened, giving Aster that penetrating stare. “We searched for them…many years ago. Fucking desperate for any crumb of information that they could provide about that night—the one night that irrevocably shifted the trajectory of our lives.”
Emerson shifted, twirling a gold coin between her fingers. “They deal in secrets and espionage, yet we couldn’t even get through the front door. They betrayed our loyalty, and we intend to get retribution.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” Aster snapped.
“It may have taken us this long, but we know who we’re looking for now,” Emerson replied, blue gaze gleaming on that same golden piece that continued its repetitive route.
My brows lifted of their own accord. The Treasury was the fourth and final crime organisation of Junction City, that specifically dealt in the exchange of information, completely exclusive and practically non-existent. Their boss was unknown, their legitimate title unknown, the Treasury name coined by the populus who had used their business in the past.
The Kings being able to identify them at all, like Emerson suggested, is a testament to their skills alone.
Aster must have clocked the severity of their power as well, her face lighting with momentary pride before she could shut it down again.
“The reason you couldn’t get in touch with them is because they went completely underground after the Sovereign Sacking.”
“Why the fuck?—”
“Because the Treasury was there,” Aster finished.
A thick sense of peril alarmed my senses, screaming for me to run. We all shifted as one to Tanner, who had materialised out of nowhere. I didn’t even have time to process his presence next to Aster, cause all I could sense was this ominous aura quivering from his body. He was the devil, a merciless demon ready to collect and destroy her soul.
Why the fuck did I ever think I could take him?
“Oliver and Chase were ambushed and killed that night. Is that who they were meeting? The Treasury ?” he asked, tone all fucking disturbing.
Psycho smirked, Micah looked concerned and Emerson narrowed her eyes on Aster, who didn’t even bat an eyelid. I swear, she had literal balls, that woman.
“You’re not the only ones who lost something that night,” Aster said cryptically.
“Did they lose family?” Emerson asked, her usual musical voice dipped, on the verge of what I could only describe as vicious. “Did they lose their whole world?”
“WE LOST EVERYTHING!” Tanner screamed, his expression unhinged.
With all the debacle I hadn’t noticed Spencer’s silence, usually one of the loudest in the room. Her form began to vibrate, cascading up my arm from my hand on her leg. She was close to losing control, her red hair wavering in front of me from the violent shudders that had her overtaken.
I didn’t know why I cared. Correction. I didn’t want to know why I cared, why I was drawn to her vulnerable state. The blatant need to comfort her outweighed any other necessity within me.
“Fucking spit it out, Aster!” I yelled. “Before they fucking destroy us all.” Her eyes seemed to take in the room, her persona faltering under the duress of all four Kings directing all their anger, all their grief, all their fucking heartbreak on her.
She finally succumbed to the demand. “Yes. There was a meeting between the Treasury and the Sovereign. I don’t know what about, but I knew it was important as each central member was expected to attend… Or so my informant told me. The Treasury didn’t betray you. They were victims of the same assault.” Aster's eyes dipped. “They also lost many, including their matriarch, the Pawn Broker’s wife… After that, he went into hiding and never came out. They were renowned for their secrecy, but this was on a whole other level. If you want answers, they are the ones you should seek. They have the same investment in finding out who did this as you.”