“Out of curiosity, why him?” I ask, running my finger over my upper lip. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care, but I just want to know why him.”
Hector seems to ponder my words. He’s good at that, making you think you have him worked out, or at the very least, working him out.
“Because there’s only one man walking this earth that holds about as much power as I do, and that’s your dad. But the difference between him and I is that I have morals. I care for the legacy in our world—he doesn’t.”
I let his words fly over my shoulder.
“So you want me to kill my old man?” I ask, my eyebrow cocked.
Hector shakes his head. “You can’t kill someone who lives incognito. No one knows where he is, all we know is that he has his own people. Different from our people.”
“So he has The Circle?” Bishop asks, throwing out the question that we all want the answer to.
Hector nods, flicking the ash off of his cigar. “Yes, but more than that, he has the Rebels.” The Rebels are old Kings who have done something to break one of the Elite Commandments and have been exiled from their position, whereas The Circle are Kings who have left by choice. It’s not ideal to leave The Kings, and is actually fucking frowned upon, but the men who occupy The Circle have warranted reasons as to why they have left.
Hector continues. “The only way that this will work in our favor is if we had Perdita, but we don’t completely because of how Katsia was killed. We’re lucky they’re somewhat taking orders from Khales, but that won’t last long. I think the majority of the reason as to why they are, is in an attempt to keep the island contained and their people safe. Right now, no one is working against The Kings, and they won’t—mainly because they’re smart but a little because they don’t have the numbers.” He looks directly at me. “Gabriel Malum is on a different spectrum. He can’t be killed, and we don’t want him killed. He’d be much better as an ally until we get Perdita under control. There are a whole lot of Lost Boys and no one to run them. The island itself is being held up by Khales, as you all know, but like I said, that can’t be a permanent thing—as much as she would love to have that power—it’s not hers to take.”
I kick out my leg, mulling over his words. “So put Peyton on there. Only we know that she’s not Katsia’s real daughter. They don’t need to know that and she’s still under our control.”
Hector eyes me. “She has run. We’re in the middle of finding her, but it seems she has a very good hacker in her pocket that deletes every single CCTV footage of her when it comes up.”
I let out a soft growl, fucking annoyed that I let him talk me into keeping her alive. The only reason she has the legs she ran away on is because I didn’t fucking snap them. Now I’m irked. Ignoring that, I turn to look at Hector.
“Where do you want me to meet Gabriel?”
Tillie
“Ah…ah…” I blow soft raspberries on Micaela’s bare stomach. She’s almost five months now and is getting more and more beautiful as the days go on. She reminds me so much of Nate, without the annoying parts.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I grab it out, still talking to Micaela. The number is strange.
Do you have it?
What? I click on the number but all it says is 446
I text back anyway because curiosity gets the best of me.
Have what? Who is this?
I wait. And then wait some more. After twenty minutes of pacing around my room, it dawns on me that they’re probably not going to text back. I toss my phone onto the couch and make my way back to the bed, picking Micaela up to put her down for a nap. Once she’s all tucked in, I grab Daemon’s book and open to the page I was up to. I flick through the pages I’ve already seen but find myself back to CAPITULUM I and II - the cabin. This time, I run my fingers over every detail, trying to find a clue. So Daemon has been here before, but why did he draw this? Why has he even created this book? Daemon never does anything without a reason. I have started feeling bad for not sharing this with Madison too, but the selfish side of me doesn’t want to just yet. Not picking up anything different with the drawings, I flip to the next part. CAPITULUM V. Hands clenching a jail cell, with one pole broken and bent. The ground is shaded to look like 3D. I bring the book closer to my face in an attempt to make out what it is that’s laying on the ground.
A short shaped stick connects to an oval-like ball. There are squares and circles colored into it. This is the first item I have come across that has color and so much detail. My stomach curls when I realize it’s a baby rattle. I slam the book closed and rush for the bathroom, pulling my hair back as everything I ate over the last twenty-four hours comes spewing out of my mouth. Swiping my lips with the back of my hand, I flush and then go to the sink, washing my hands. I know this. I know what happens. I know the duty of The Lost Boys, and of course I knew Daemon was the Princeps. That should bother me. I peer at myself in the mirror. My ivory skin has been invaded by a flush of pink spread over my cheeks. Cupping
