Page 26 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Tripp

If I have to see one more girl hanging on Rev's neck, I'm going to hurl myself into the ocean and let the tide take me.

It's fucking nauseating, the way they cling to him like ants on honey.

But I suppose I can't blame them. He is honey; he is smooth and sticky, and it's hard not to get caught in all of that.

"Seems like just yesterday we were all here for Halloween." Whit sighs, leaning his head back to look up at the stars. "Things are aligning."

I follow his glance up at the sky, looking to see if I can recognize whatever he's talking about. But there's nothing. It's a mostly starless night, late June, and it's oddly dark. And warm. The bonfire is sweltering, but I don't want to move away from it. I'm comfortable despite the warmth.

I make a noncommittal noise and turn my attention back to peeling the label off my beer bottle.

"History will soon be rectified, and the righteous will have vengeance."

Whoever invited him should have their head checked, because Whit's a fucking weirdo. After watching him parade around in a black bird mask, I lost any chance of respecting him, probably ever. And now hearing him spout nonsense again? I decide to fuck with him instead of ignoring him.

"The meek shall inherit the earth."

It's the only nonsense I can come up with on the spot, and I expect him to nod solemnly and throw out another random aphorism. Instead, he snorts.

"The meek shall inherit nothing. The earth belongs to those who take what they want. Power belongs to those who can reach out and snare it, regardless of what the cost will be."

"Inspirational," I tell him drily, deciding I actually don't have enough screws loose to try and banter with this shit.

"Transformational, I'd argue." Whit says. "Once you realize that the world doesn't give you anything, you realize what you need to do to get what you're owed."

"So, your philosophy is to just... take what you want?"

"More or less." Whit shrugs. "Like I said, nobody is going to give you anything. You have to reach out and take it or get used to living without."

"You think you're like, Robinhood or something?"

"I don't take to give to others. I take to enrich myself. If others want to be enriched too, I'm willing to stand with them. If not, I'm willing to go through them."

The moral implications of what he's suggesting are bad enough, but I can't say I'm not intrigued. He doesn't seem... criminal, which is I guess what I expect of someone who claims they take whatever they want. "You live by those words, huh?"

"Die by them, too." Whit nods solemnly. "Good and bad are just societal constructs. Why should I refrain from something that I enjoy, or deny myself something that I want when I'm the only one who has to reap the consequences?"

"But you're not the only one. If you steal from a bank, you steal from all the people who keep their money in that bank."

"Nope. Banks are federally insured. Try again."

I stare at him in surprise. It's like he expected that argument, like he had his response planned and at the ready. "So, then you're stealing from the insurance company."

"Insurance is a scam in itself. All they do is steal from people."

My father has said the same thing a time or two when complaining about the cost to have full coverage on a sports car, so I guess I'll take their word for it. "Are you honestly telling me if you see something you want, you'll just take it? Just like that?"

"Just like that." Whit grins. "See, you could do to adopt my principles. You're out here tonight moping just like you were at Halloween... why? Cause the girl you want doesn't want you? So fucking take her?"

"You don't just take people." I roll my eyes. "It's not like Marley's a book or a new pair of shoes."

Whit chuckles, clearly not accepting my argument. That sends a cold chill through me as I imagine what that means; I'm suddenly grateful that he doesn't want her. If he did, what would he do?

"You can take people, I assure you. You can take their body, their soul, their allegiance. And you can take their lives."

"So, you're saying you're a rapist and a murderer when it comes to getting what you want?" It's a heavy accusation, intentionally loaded. Because if he's genuinely saying what I think he's saying, he should probably be on the FBI watch list or something.

"That's too simple a way of breaking it down. Your argument ignores the nuances of morality and sexuality. It assumes that there's no consent involved in taking what you want."

All I can manage to do is stare at him; I'm not sure if he's gaslighting me into believing I'm the crazy one or what, because I don't understand a word of what he just said.

Fortunately, Rev spares me from having to ask him what the fuck that's supposed to mean, because he perches on the arm of my chair again, and I'm uncomfortably aware of how close he is.

He still smells like the bodywash he used after his threesome, thank God, because it was a pleasant smell to fill the car the whole way here.

"Nuances of morality and sexuality?" Rev repeats. "This sounds like a conversation made for me."

The way Whit grins at him makes me wonder how much he knows about Rev's sexuality, and something deep inside of me twists unpleasantly at the thought of Whit seducing Rev.

"I was just explaining to Tripp here that you have to take what you want."

"Accurate." Rev agrees, though I notice the way his gaze washes over me slowly, somehow at odds with the simplicity of his statement.

"Even when it hurts someone else?" I challenge. "For example, Whit thinks you should take people like they're property."

That gives Rev enough pause to cock his head at Whit. "How so?"

"I simply suggested that he's been moping for nearly the year I've known him because he loves a girl who doesn't love him back. Instead of denying himself, why not just... make her love you back?"

"You pedaling love potion or something?" Rev chuckles.

A shrug is Whit's only response for a minute before he says, "If I was, would you be interested?"

That's as much of the loon as I can handle for one night; I start to rise to go, but it tips Rev off the side of the chair, and I reach out to snag him before he falls into the fire.

I find my footing, and a moment later he finds his, with his hand on my chest. My throat tightens, suddenly feeling dry as he looks up at me with those dark eyes, which look somehow molten in the glow of the flames behind me.

It takes a moment before either of us looks away, and it's Rev who does, taking a step away and leaving me feeling surprisingly cold.

"Yeah." Rev says.

It takes me a moment to realize his word isn't for me, and another to remember what Whit even asked.

"And if you could have what you wanted... in this case, who you want..." Whit pauses, and my heart feels like it's going to beat of my chest as Rev glances at me from the corner of his eye. "Would you be willing to share her?"

"Her?" Rev repeats, and I wonder if I'm imagining the confusion in his tone.

"You all like the same girl, so you all suffer. Why don't you just... share her?"

"That's ridiculous." I snort. "You want us to treat her like a pair of sneakers we have shared custody of?

Rev gets her on Mondays and Wednesdays and I take her on weekends?

" It also ignores the obvious fact that Marley has shown zero interest in anyone other than Jake.

And I'm not fucking sharing anything with Jake, much less Marley.

"Polyamory has roots deeper than anything in this city.

" Whit challenges. "In Ancient Mesopotamia, it wasn't uncommon for wealthy or powerful men to have multiple wives.

But modern-day social constructs have led you to believe that love is meant to exist between two people, when in fact, it's actually stronger with more parties involved. "

Rev looks intrigued.

I assume, fresh off his earlier threesome, it would be easy to start thinking that it's possible. Maybe there are people out there who make it work, but it could never be us. "You meet a lot of women who are into the idea of multiple boyfriends?"

"I've never cared for anyone enough to bring it up.

" Whit reasons. "But if you're asking if I think there are women who would be into polyamory?

Absolutely." He shrugs. "Once you get past the fact that society views these relationships as wrong for no reason other than because the church and government have beaten us over the head with marriage as a covenant for the last several hundred years, what's there not to love?

Multiple partners means better need fulfillment.

.. psychologically, emotionally, and sexually. "

Rev hums in agreement, and I decide I've got to get him out of here before he subscribes to whatever weird ass cult Whit is running in the shadows.

Luckily for me, there's a commotion just beyond the bonfire.

A girl who I recognize but can't place the name of stands, surrounded by people as she looks to be on the verge of a breakdown.

She's breathing heavily, panting, with tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to get out words to the people trying to close her in.

Rev follows the direction of my gaze, and we go together to see what's going on.

Rev walks faster as her sounds of distress increase, pulling another girl back to give her a chance to breathe.

"What's going on?" I ask whoever will answer.

"Jenny." Someone says, and I turn to see Eliza Ryan, who I recognize as friends with the girl who's currently freaking out, pulling at her hair. "It has to be."

I recognize the name. Jenny Clark is one of my only female friends, if you could call it that.

We had the same lunch last year, both without our friends, and we ended up sitting together in silence for a few weeks.

When I saw her reading a comic book, I finally decided to talk to her, and the floodgates opened.

I actually looked forward to lunch with her, because it gave me a break from the rest of my friends and their ever-evolving drama.

Jenny is the only one I know of those three, but I do know they're all best friends, that they're always together except for that lunch class we shared.

I scan the crowd, looking for the girl I know will be capable of soothing over this meltdown, but I don't see her anywhere.

A cry splits the air, and I turn back to find the girl with her arm around Rev's neck.

But this isn't like earlier, like the ones who clung to him in the hopes he'd take a peek at their cleavage or smell their perfume.

She clings to Rev because he's all that keeps her up as her body slumps toward the ground.

"Jenny's missing." Someone explains, and I only assume that's for my benefit.

"What?" I turn to find whoever gave me that information and see Eliza, who has her hand over her mouth like she's trying not to be sick.

"Since when? How? When was-" My next question is cut off by the chime of someone's phone, and another sob from the girl with Rev, who must be Misti, if I remember correctly.

"She's not missing anymore." Someone says flatly, and I swivel toward them, wondering how they know, if she showed up here.

It's the girl with Rev who answers, though. She chokes on a sob, sucks in a breath, and then cries, "She's dead."