Page 37 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Rev

My pity party is over, I'm painfully sober, and it's time to dance with the fucking devil.

I was shitfaced the last time we were here in the church, when Whit announced our next victim.

Fucking stupid of me to have checked out the way I did, leaving them open to his bullshit.

What if he'd not given us a month of warning?

What if he decided to go through with it when I was passed out from trying to drown my sorrows?

What if he killed her and took away the only fucking light in this town?

She's already been dimmed so much since her parents' death, and now he wants to put her out entirely.

There's not a fucking chance we'll allow it to happen.

But Colton's right. The only thing to do is to keep him close, to play along, to let him think we're working together for a common goal.

It's why the three of us show up together tonight, though there's only one other car in the parking lot.

It's why we walk into the chapel to find Whit alone, already at the front of the stage rather than making a grand entrance like usual.

"Brothers." He greets us with a grin. "Welcome."

I look around, taking note of the empty pews. No Jake, no Audrey, no Mark and his entourage.

"Brother?" Colton sneers. "Are we family now?"

"Always have been." Whit shrugs, descending the steps and headed straight toward us.

"Just us tonight?" I ask, watching his face for any indication of what's going on... any indication that he knows we aren't aligned.

"Wanted something more intimate?" Tripp teases, indicating the candles lit all around the church. They're normally lit, but without his ridiculous fanfare and the others with their nonsense, it feels different.

"You could say that." Whit chuckles, adjusting the thing tucked under his arm. "I wanted to share something in confidence."

"Maybe try a therapist." I suggest. God knows I need one after getting wrapped up in his bullshit; I can't imagine having to live in it day in and day out like him. What must the delusions be like?

"I minored in abnormal psychology, actually." Whit grins. "But thank you for the concern."

"Do you ever get tired of your own bullshit?" Colton chuckles. "Seriously, isn't it exhausting?"

"No more exhausting than it must be to try and deny who you really are.

" He shrugs, flipping open the book in his hands and thumbing through the pages.

"I mean, trying to come up with excuses to rationalize what you saw with your own eyes, what you felt with your own hands, what you know deep in your bones?

" Whit chuckles a little. "That sounds far more exhausting than embracing what you were made for. "

I don't believe for a second that he studied abnormal psychology, unless he means he studied his own delusions.

"Ah, here it is." Whit turns the book toward us and watches expectantly. I don't know what he expects. The page doesn't contain much... just a bunch of symbols and shapes, and some letters arranged to look like words. But they're barely legible, the ink smeared over ancient-looking paper.

"This supposed to mean something to us?" Tripp laughs.

"It means everything." Whit assures him. "This is the spell that binds souls together."

"A spell?" Tripp snorts, at the same time I ask, "Binds souls together?"

"Mmm." Whit agrees. "Our souls, specifically."

"You have one of those?" I muse. "Didn't sell it to the devil or something?"

"Is that what you think we've been doing here?

" His laughter echoes around the chamber, filling it with the eerie sound of his maniacal humor.

"You think we're sacrificing people to the devil in exchange for magic?

" He shakes his head. "Magic doesn't come from the devil or God or anything beyond this world.

It comes from the earth, from nature, from the balance between life and death.

And when you know how to harvest it, a world of possibilities opens to you. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

We're here because he got into people's heads.

He convinced gullible, feeble-minded people to commit murder for him, and we could have ignored that.

It would have been fucked up, but we could have just let the police handle it and left it at that, left them to their weird ass circle jerk without us.

But his decision to involve Jake and Audrey had a ripple effect, and I'm holding him responsible for the death of the Lavignes. And now he wants to pick off another.

"Let's not pretend that we're everyone else." Colton says. "I know you're used to your cronies watching your three-ring circus in awe, but we're not buying into any of this shit. You have to know that, right?"

I tense.

It's been months of Colton saying just to play along, to not let on that we have an ulterior motive here, and then he goes and says that?

"I've felt your reluctance to accept it." Whit laughs. "That's why I'm showing you this. The binding of souls."

"I'm flattered." Tripp deadpans. "But I don't like you like that. Hell, I don't think I even like you at all."

Well, fuck. I guess we're laying all our cards on the table.

Whit gasps in fake indignation, lifting a hand to his heart and soothing the fabric of his shirt. "Your words hurt, you know?" He winks, though, and Tripp glances at me, like I might be able to explain any of what just happened. "And what about you, Rene?"

The sound of my birth name on his tongue makes me freeze. But maybe it's not just the name, the fact that he knows it, but the way he says it... the way his tongue rolls perfectly around it, as if he's spoken it a million times before.

I don't get past the shock enough to ask what about me, because he continues.

"You felt the enchantment, didn't you? I slipped into your mind and took control because you refused to do what needed to be done.

You felt me there, didn't you? Stroking your brain, pressing on your will. You know, you were my first?"

I swallow past the bile trying to creep up my throat at the memory of what he's saying... the memories buried beneath that one.

"Fuck off." It's weak, but it's all I can manage before he continues.

"I've practiced on animals before. Frogs, squirrels, my neighbor's dog... but you're the first person I've been inside of like that. I've seen things in you that no one ever has, haven't I?"

I can feel Tripp and Colton watching me, expecting something. But I can't give them anything.

"You two... hooked up?" Tripp ventures.

"Fuck no." I spit, because the thought is insulting. I usually have pretty low standards, but they're not that low. Whit's good-looking in a wolfish way, but he's a fucking psychopath... and not the fun kind, as far as I've seen.

"That would be trivializing what we did.

" Whit shrugs. "I possessed him, in a manner of speaking.

I got inside his head and shut down all the things you don't realize are behind those pretty eyes.

And then I took control, helped him to do what needed to be done.

And because I did that, I know that you don't think this is all a bunch of smoke and mirrors.

You know it's real, Rev, so why are you pretending it's not? "

I don't speak. I don't trust myself to open my mouth without letting go of every toxic thought fighting through my addled mind.

"You all know it's real. You saw me conjure the flame, you saw me take over Rev's mind and body, you've lived the bonding ceremony. You just don't remember the last part."

"Bonding ceremony?" Colton rolls his eyes.

"Bonding of souls." He agrees. "See, we're all tethered from past lives. Five of us."

"Five?"

I'm surprised that's what Tripp chose to contend with, and not the whole ‘past lives’ thing.

"The four of us," Whit nods, "and our source. Our anchor."

"An anchor." Colton nods. "Past lives, binding souls. You're certifiable, you know?"

For a moment, Whit only stares at Colton, and Colton only stares back.

And then, slowly, Colton moves. His steps are jerky at first, like he's spent too long in a confined space and is just now remembering how to use his legs.

But with each step he takes, it gets more fluid as he ascends the stairs, up to the spot where my father preaches.

But he doesn't step behind the pulpit- he stands right there in the center of the stage and strips his shirt over his head without a word.

"What's he doing?" Tripp whispers, like he's afraid that Colton is suffering the same psychosis as Whit now and speaking it out loud will cause him to snap.

It's not far off, because when I tear my eyes from Colton as he shoves his boxers and jeans down his thighs, I realize exactly what's going on.

Whit's in his mind, pulling the strings.

It's wrong to watch whatever the fuck is about to happen, but I can't tear my eyes away from him.

Colton's got an impressive physique, and I think he's actually only gotten bigger since school ended despite no longer training for football.

And I always suspected he'd have a big dick, but.

.. fuck me, I way underestimated. Jesus, that thing reaches to mid-thigh, even limp.

.. and like the rest of him, it's thick.

But it's not limp for long, because he grips it and begins stroking his length, which quickly rises to his touch.

"What the fuck?" Tripp demands. "Colton, you fucking freak, put your dick away."

"I've gotten better since I played with you last, Rev." Whit chuckles to himself. "Or else, he's just weaker. Look how easy he is to control... his eyes are blank. There's not even any resistance. I wonder how long it would last... how far I can push you?"

He's quiet a minute as we watch in horror as Colton works himself faster, and I know I should look away, but I'm spellbound. Maybe literally. Is this Whit's doing, or is it just how fucking impressive his body is?

My fascination falters when Tripp moves toward the steps, his movements shaky and halting.

"What the fuck?" He cries, panic clear in his voice as he moves.

"Whit..." I warn, because I don't know where he's going with this, but I know he needs to stop.

Having him in my head had been a violation on every level. Watching him do the same thing to some of the only people I care about? It's wrong on so many levels.

"Colton looks like a natural top, don't you think?"

"Whit!" I growl, panic crawling up my throat as I watch Tripp fall to his knees in front of Colton, facing out to me so that I can see the alarm in his eyes, the way it doubles sharply as Colton ceases his stroking and rips Tripp's jeans down his hips.

The angle leaves nothing exposed to me, but I know his ass is out, and I know what's about to happen.

"Just fucking stop it!" I growl. "We'll do whatever you want us to do."

"Clearly." Whit snorts, gesturing to my best friends before us, trapped in their bodies, hostages to Whit moving them around. "Maybe just the tip will do it?"

"You're fucking sick." I snarl. "And if you don't stop, you'll never get what you want from us."

The smirk on Whit's face deepens as Colton presses himself against Tripp's ass, and I lose all sense of rationality.

I throw myself at them, knowing I don't stand a chance at fighting Colton off, knowing that Whit can halt me in my tracks before I even make it there.

But he does nothing as I blow a right hook across Colton's jaw.

Whit's control shatters as Tripp scrambles away, pulling up his jeans and putting distance between him and Colton, who I help up from the ground.

"Maybe some other time." Whit sighs. "Anyway, are you all done questioning the reality of this, or do I need to show you the past?"

"Go to hell." Tripp snarls, and I look away from Colton, whose dazed look could be from the blow I just delivered or the mindfuck from Whit. Tripp's arms are crossed, and I expect him to look scared or shaken up. Instead, he just looks pissed.

"Maybe one day we can make that our next field trip." Whit shrugs. "Right now, I guess we're taking a different kind of trip."