Page 32 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

31

TRADITIONS

The dining room table had been decorated with a centerpiece of pink and gold roses. Every chair was set with matching plates, and a feast of vibrant, mouthwatering food stretched across the center. Pink and gold silk hung from every wall, covering all the room’s mirrors.

“We’ve put on enough of a show during the first two rounds. I think we deserve a break,” Rowin told her when she mentioned that last little detail.

Genevieve took her place next to him at the table, across from a very amused Sevin. Before Sevin could tease her about the scene he’d interrupted in the hallway, however, Remi arrived, and everyone immediately turned their attentions on Rowin’s twin. Since Remi hadn’t managed to eliminate anyone during his turn, it apparently meant he’d have to deal with his siblings’ ridicule for the remainder of the night. And though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, he stayed put—as far away from Rowin as he could get.

When everyone was present, Covin trickling in last, the festivities finally began. And it probably should have been unsurprising that the Silver family’s birthday traditions were pure chaos .

“Shouldn’t I get to decide how we celebrate?” Genevieve asked the others as they bickered over where to start.

“If you’re going to be a Silver, sweetheart, you’re going to have to deal with the fact that birthdays are a family affair,” Sevin reasoned. “We celebrate as if it is all of our birthdays.”

She crossed her arms. “Because?”

“Because otherwise someone would pitch a fit and unleash a pack of Hellhounds in the house,” Rowin said with a pointed look at Sevin and Covin. “It’s easier if you just let them do what they’d like.”

She sighed. “Alright then. What’s first?”

It started with the birthday ham.

In choosing who received the honor of carving it, all of them stood around the table and passed the hulking piece of pork around like a game of hot potato until everyone was eliminated except for Covin. Genevieve was eliminated after round one when she dropped it—to many groans—because she refused to smell like ham for the rest of the night. She also refused to eat the ham afterward because, well, she had dropped it on the ground . Honestly.

After dinner—which was quite good, despite how much she missed her mother’s gumbo—Barrington arrived, a small box with a pink bow in his hand.

“Children,” he greeted the others before nodding at Genevieve and handing her the present. “It’s only chocolates. Your mother’s favorites. Happy birthday, dear girl. Though I must admit the timing of your birth is quite unfortunate for me.”

“Why?” she wondered as she set the gift aside, trying not to think about them being her mother’s favorites .

“Because every time we celebrate a birthday, Father gets a knife in his back as a gift to all of us,” Covin explained as Barrington’s expression grew taut. “You’re a Silver now. So it counts.”

Genevieve was just about to ask if Covin was kidding when Grave reappeared from the kitchen with seven large knives in his hand.

“Hell,” she gaped as Rowin fought a smile at her shock.

“Alright, best secret gets to go first,” Sevin announced. “Ellin got proposed to by Gareth Serpentine at the masquerade.”

Ellin’s face turned pink as everyone whipped their heads to her. “Sevington Silver, you little fucking gossip . Who told you that?”

Sevin grinned. “I don’t give away my sources.”

“Our baby sister is getting hitched next!” Covin raised his glass of wine.

“I didn’t say yes, you ass,” Ellin huffed.

“Why not? The Serpentines are one of the most powerful Demon clans in Hell,” Remi chimed in from where he was leaning against the wall. “Maybe if you married one, you could try for the loophole next year.”

“I’m not joining that family. They’re archaic. They have traditions that make ours look normal,” Ellin answered Remi. “Covin ought to know—he’s been fucking Nessa Serpentine for a while now.”

They all turned to Covin in shock, and Genevieve was sure she’d have the same sort of expression on her face if she knew who they were talking about.

Ellin grinned. “I’ve been saving that one for a while.”

“ Nessa? ” Barrington glared at him. “Covington, do you know what the Serpentines would do to you if they knew you?—”

“I’m aware, Father, thank you,” Covin bit out.

“See? Archaic,” Ellin echoed. “Gareth could fuck anyone and they wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Gareth is not going to inherit the Serpentine empire. Nobody cares about anything he does,” said Sevin.

“Whatever,” Ellin muttered.

“Get on with your secret, Covin,” Rowin prompted, and Genevieve glanced over to see his leg bouncing beneath the table impatiently.

“Grave stopped visiting Mother months ago,” Covin declared.

Grave’s face turned murderous as his eyes shifted to Covin. “I knew you followed me, you fucking bastard.”

“I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you,” Barrington said to his eldest son.

“As if I give a shit about what you might have to say,” Grave snarled at his father before shifting his gaze back to Sevin. “Remi’s the one who stole your stash of blood, Sevin.”

“ I knew it ,” Sevin exclaimed as he lunged for Remi and nailed him in the shoulder with his fist. “Where did you put it?”

“Don’t bother,” Grave continued. “He traded it for Demon’s Breath.”

“Remi,” Ellin chastised. “Aren’t you a bit old for such dull recreational drugs?”

“Yeah, don’t be a baby, get into the hard stuff,” Covin goaded.

“The Demon’s Breath wasn’t for me,” Remi told them.

“For a friend, right?” Sevin laughed.

Remi didn’t deign to respond further.

“Remi? Secret?” Ellin urged.

“Pass,” Remi said, tone thick with boredom now.

“Alright, Rowin? Genevieve?” Ellin moved on.

“No, thanks,” Genevieve blurted at the same time that Rowin revealed, “I killed Cedric Wrathblade at the masquerade, and Sevin helped me get rid of the body.”

Sevin huffed. “I had a feeling you were going to pull that one out.”

Grave choked on his wine, and Barrington nearly turned purple. Ellin, however, looked elated.

“Rowin has my vote,” she said.

“You did what ?” Barrington shouted at his sons.

Sevin shrugged. “Believe me, he deserved it.”

“Messing with a Daemonica legacy is fucking asking for trouble,” Barrington growled. “And a Wrathblade? Did you both lose your fucking minds?”

“We dumped the body in the middle of a bunch of high Vampires,” Rowin said. “If anyone hears about it, they’ll think Cedric got in over his head during initiation and the vamps got carried away.”

As Barrington launched into a string of curses and the others began to vote for who deserved the title of Best Secret, Genevieve leaned over to hiss at Rowin, “You killed him because he was going to hurt me?”

“He touched my wife without permission,” he bit out. “I’d have killed him for less than that. Whatever the risks of turning Daemonica against me.”

“What is Daemonica?” she asked.

“A prestigious secret society for Demons,” Ellin inserted. “Like one of those university clubs, with ominous cloaks and a special handshake. They’re pricks, but they throw the most incredible parties. Sevin has always wanted to join.”

“ Why? ” Genevieve swung her gaze to Sevin.

“Did you not hear the bit about the parties?” Sevin grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She thought back to how he’d stayed on the sidelines at the masquerade and couldn’t help but think there was something much deeper going on with Sevin than anyone in this room knew.

“Alright, Rowin,” Barrington said, voice tight. “Looks like you win this year.”

Rowin grinned as he stood from his chair and walked over to the knives, which Grave had neatly laid in the middle of the table. Genevieve watched with rapt curiosity as Rowin picked up one of the blades and walked over to his father. She decided this was not going in a very fun direction.

“Happy fucking birthday, Mrs. Silver,” Rowin said to her before spearing the knife right into Barrington’s ribs.

Genevieve gasped, but Barrington stayed upright with barely more than a flinch. An immortal’s endurance never failed to amaze her.

Sevin laughed in delight. “Welcome to the family, Vivi. Don’t forget to make a wish for each knife.”

Rowin returned to her side as the others took their turns with the knives. Barrington gritted his teeth against each one but did not cower away or protest. When there was only one left, Covin offered it in Genevieve’s direction.

“Absolutely fucking not,” she said.

“Dibs!” Sevin called immediately.

Once the final blow was struck, Barrington muttered, “Happy birthday, Genevieve.”

Then he pulled the knives from his wounds and left the room, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

All Genevieve could think to say was, “I do not understand this family.”

But in another life, I think I might have really loved to be a part of it.

“He’s the reason we’re trapped in this fucking game,” Ellin explained with a shrug. “It’s only fair that he suffers occasionally.”

“Alright, who’s ready for cake?” Sevin asked.

An hour later, Genevieve and Rowin went back to his room, to change and rest before the next round of the Hunt. He stripped his bed of its old sheets as she took the pins from her disheveled hair.

“Do you need help with those?” Rowin asked when he was done, brow raised at the way she was now struggling to reach for the laces behind her back.

She paused. “Is this why you laced them so tight? So you’d get to unlace them as well?”

There was no hint of amusement in his face as he motioned for her to turn around, however, and she bit her lip, unsure how to read his mood. She felt him slowly pull on one of the laces until the knot came undone, then meticulously unweave them until the corset loosened enough for her to breathe properly again.

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked.

She turned, surprised at the suggestion coming from him. “Okay.”

“Did you enjoy yourself? What’s been your favorite birthday so far? What was the best moment of the night?”

“It was…interesting,” she said in response to the first question. “A far cry from birthdays at home. My mom would make my favorite meal while I played games with Ophie. My favorite birthday was probably my thirteenth. That was the year my mother started letting me go into town by myself.”

As he listened, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, shrugging it off and folding it atop the dresser. Next went his dress shoes and cravat.

“And the best part of the night…” She trailed off as she tried to focus on anything but him undressing.

“Mm-hmm?” he asked as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Having your mouth on me. Hands down.

“Watching Covin swallow a knife as long as my forearm,” she lied.

That incident had actually been extremely stressful and not at all something she cared to see again.

“His usual party trick,” Rowin said. But from the way he watched her, she could tell he knew that she wasn’t telling the truth. To his credit, he let it go.

“Your turn,” he tossed back.

“Do you really hate your father as much as you all seem to?” she started.

She didn’t have the guts for her other question quite yet.

“It’s…not that black and white,” he admitted. “But sometimes I do. Not because he made a rushed mistake in a moment he feared for his wife’s life, but because he can’t even be bothered to be around . He’s too ashamed of what he’s forced us into. But mistake or not, when you lock your family into a curse like the Hunt, you should at least look them in the eyes more than twice a year.”

Genevieve nodded. “My mother never told us about our father—how she met him in Phantasma and the curses that broke our family apart—or the debt she’d accrued on our family’s home. And then she died and just left us here to deal with it alone. She abandoned us, left me completely unprepared for life.”

Rowin crossed his arms over his exposed chest and leaned back against the dresser in contemplation. “It’s never easy to realize that the people who are supposed to protect us are the ones who can create the deepest scars.”

Genevieve sighed. That was something she’d tried to come to terms with for a very long time.

“I think that’s why I was still so determined to come inside despite your warnings,” she admitted to him. “I wanted to find others like me. And I wanted to meet your father because I thought his proximity to my mother could give me some insight on why she…did what she did. But instead I found out?—”

“He’s equally as fucked up?” Rowin finished.

“Yup,” she said, popping the “P” at the end of the word. She tried to find her way back to a lighter mood. “How long do we have until midnight?”

“Less than an hour,” he told her.

“I’m going to change. There’s no way I’ll be able to run in this dress.” She pointed down at herself.

“Genevieve?”

She flicked her eyes back to him. “Yes?”

“You still have two more questions.”

And I was avoiding them, thank you very much.

“I’m not sure I have anything else to ask tonight,” she said instead, a bit too casually.

“Lie. You’re a never-ending well of questions, Genevieve Grimm,” he stated.

She shrugged. “Maybe the well has run dry.”

She tried to step by him. He blocked her.

“You’re being annoying,” she huffed.

“And you’re not playing the game right,” he shot back. “You want us to build trust? Then ask me a question. What is it?”

Why aren’t you having as hard of a time with just fucking as I am? she thought, but the one she had the nerve to actually say was, “Why do you have letters from Grimm Manor hidden in your desk? My letters.”

He froze at the question, but before he could answer, the stroke of midnight came.