Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I mutter under my breath, turning back in my chair. “I was just getting to that part.”
“And that’s all she knows.”
Hold up. “Wait.” I put my hand up. “What does that mean? And why did you just storm into this office like you were afraid my dad was going to say something?” I look back at Dad to see his face soften slightly before eventually falling completely. He looks to me. “Baby girl, go upstairs. I need to talk to Bishop.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You can talk in front of me.”
“The fuck we can. Get your ass upstairs—now.” Bishop glares at me.
I wince, but square my shoulders. “Why? Why can’t you stop fucking hiding shit from me?”
Bishop takes one step. “Because…” Another step. “You are Madison fucking Montgomery…” Step. “The Silver motherfucking Swan.” Double step. “So get your fucking ass upstairs.” The tip of his shoe hits mine. “Now,” he growls.
I run my eyes up his dark jeans, past his clean black shirt, over his thick neck and plump lips, until I’m finally staring into eyes that are like the gates of hell. Only, I would let the fucker push me in and lock them behind him. “One day—” I tilt my head. “—I will know everything, and you won’t be able to control shit.” I stand, almost nose-to-nose with him.
He looks down at me, his dark glare turning into a grin. “Maybe. Not today though, so get the fuck out.”
I turn in my step and walk out of the office before he can yell at me some more. Only he’s not yelling at me. Only Bishop has a way about him where it feels like he’s yelling at you without actually raising his voice. Must be an intimidation tactic of some sort. He’s stella in those.
Taking the stairs one at a time, I walk into my room, slamming the door behind me. Flopping down onto my bed, the fluffy blankets puffing out beneath me, I tilt my head to face the ceiling as I replay over all the new information. I know I’m not going to get anything solid out of anyone around here.
“Madison…,” Daemon whispers softly.
I keep my vision locked on the ceiling. “Yes, Daemon?”
“The book.”
Pushing myself up, I reach under the bed and search for the book. Something has happened with Miss Winters too. How has she disappeared? And Tillie. Where the fuck is Tillie? There’s so much I still have to figure out, but for some reason, I feel like my answers will lie between the words in this book, not by trying to decipher the Latin language from my long lost twin brother.
Fuck this book.
Flicking open the page, I sink into my bed and continue where I left off.
12.
The birth of the Lost Boys
One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six…
I counted each head. “Why are you here?” I asked, tilting my head at Joshua. Joshua was the first person to put his hand up when Humphrey decided to cook up this idea. Why? I don’t know. Humphrey comes from a good home. I thought he was a good kid too.
“Because I want to do something useful with my life. Make my family proud.”
“Proud?” I asked. “Proud of killing innocent babies? Because that’s what you will be doing.”
He swallowed, and I saw his jaw flinch. “I—I don’t. I will do what I need to do, ma’am.”
“What if I gave you another job? Something that will still make your family proud but won’t have you doing such disturbing jobs.” I pushed off the counter and walked toward him. “I’m offering you an ultimatum, Joshua. Will you accept it?”
He looked deep into my eyes, and I saw it. I saw his silent cries for help. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled when I offered him a different job. “I will do anything, Miss Katsia. I think that much is obvious.”
I nodded then come-hithered the other five boys who were waiting patiently for me at the back of the empty cave. “Who knows about fireflies?”
They all stepped forward, shaking their head. “Not much,” one of them replied. This one was strong. I could see it in how his shoulders squared with self-assurance and the way he didn’t flinch.
“Well,” I began. “What do you know about beetles?”
They all shook their heads.
“Okay, so what’s more appealing? The firefly or the beetle?”
“Firefly,” they all murmured, looking at each other for approval.
I smiled. “But did you know that the firefly is still only a beetle? They’re just nocturnal members of the family.”
“What’s your point, Miss Katsia?” the cocky boy asked, and I admire his no beating around the bush attitude. He’s going to need it.
“My point is, how they see us…” I pointed out toward the outside of the cave. “Has to be the beetle. We have to remain within the same family. They have to think we’re of the same family. Fighting for the same cause.”