Zion tipped his chin to Kali, and she flushed, rushing to crouch near Livana’s corpse.
“You’re lucky you were standing too far, or Zion would’ve made you eat your own tongue.” Kali twisted the knife left and right, turning the eyeball into porridge. “And that’s always messy.”
“Pity.” Peter surveyed his dead companion. “I rather liked this one.” With one elbow resting on the bar, he sipped his bourbon. “Oh, well. I can pick up a fresh one straight from school tomorrow.” He studied Kali as she plucked the blade outand wiped the goo on Livana’s dress, soiling the bright fabric. “Although…being a leader has its privileges. Perhaps I’ll just takeher.”
I swirled my glass, the golden liquid almost splashing beyond the rim. “I would like to see you try.” Mimicking Peter’s position, I leaned against the bar counter. “Especially when you will flounder headless on the floor, like a fish out of water.”
“I see we’re done with the niceties.” He unhooked the top button of his crisp shirt. “Let’s get to business then. I have a proposal for you.”
“Go on.” I tapped the side of my glass. “We don’t have all day.”
“Retreat your forces and I will graciously allow you and your chosen friends to select any life they want in the city. A position in one of our divisions? Done.” Peter twirled his wrist, showcasing his emerald band. “Green-banded privileges without the obligation of conceiving children? Consider it approved.”
I shifted, making myself more comfortable against the edges of the bar counter. “And the rest of my people?”
“As you can imagine, reparations will be required.” He gobbled down the dregs of his bourbon and wiped his mouth. “Everyone will go through fertility testing. The fertile ones will continue their existence immersed in luxuries as long as they reproduce, and the others… Well, let’s just say, someone will have to pay for the deaths of Ilasall’s upstanding citizens. A public execution should suffice. Witnessing the renegades of our regime perish should steer any would-be rebels back on the right track.”
As I placed my glass on the bar, the glasslike surface reflected my scarlet-streaked face. “And where would you see me, your son?”
“It would be up to you.” The Head of Ilasall scratched his freshly-shaven jaw, over a tiny speck of red—he must havenicked himself this morning. “You could become my right-hand—we could find you a title—or a Head of one of the divisions. Or even of a new one. My son would have his pick.”
“And my partners?” I gestured to Zion hovering by the door and Kali situated back on the kitchen island, both watching us.
“Gedeon.” Peter clapped my shoulder, and the contact, the closeness between us, it stirred the revulsion slumbering inside my gut. “You know our rules. All couples are made out of two, and with you being a man, well, your partner must be…” He jerked his chin at Kali. “Of course, unofficially, I wouldn’t stop you from seeinghim”—he gestured at Zion—“but caution would need to be exercised. More depraved things occur behind the closed doors than your trio, but that’s how it must remain—a secret. At most, a rumor our citizens would dismiss.”
His offer wrapped around me like barbed wire. I was not a coward, a rule follower, or a subservient resident. Nor did I have any plans to become one.
“So what do you say, Son? Do we have a deal?” Ilasall’s leader unfastened the second button of his shirt. So much for not sweating in my presence. “Or would you rather become a witness to your people’s slaughter?” He extended a hand to me. “Time is of the essence here.” When I didn’t shake it, he sighed. “My proposal stands for now and that’s it. Seal it or walk away, Gedeon.”
I traced the rim of my glass. “I’d rather choose the third option.”
Peter’s blond eyebrows furrowed. “And what would that be?”
“Keeping my promise.” The carving in the crystal strengthened my grip as I smashed the glass right into Peter’s mouth.
Fragments lodged in his face and razed my palm, but the satisfaction in shutting my father up numbed the blazing ache obliterating my nerves.
Shards clattered to the floor, exploding around my combat boots and Peter’s polished leather shoes. He gaped at me, the realization of what had transpired dawning in tandem with the pain?—
Howling, he fell to his knees. Blood streamed from the fresh lacerations tearing his lips and cheeks. Even his gums. The minuscule pieces had embedded themselves in the sensitive tissue surrounding his teeth.
“Listening to you was entertaining for a while.” I flexed my hand to check if any glass bits had found a home in my flesh. “But I am not picking one of my partners and hiding the other.”
Groaning, Peter sagged against the bar. The glasslike surface reflected the red soaking his white button-up shirt in messy streaks.
Taking a step back from the crying figure attempting to inspect his face, I told Kali, “He’s yours.”
Hesitation slowed her jump off the kitchen island. “But he’s your family. I can’t be the one to kill him.”
“This vermin isnotmy father,” I said. “My father’s name was Aidan. He was the one who raised me. Peter? He’s a stranger to me. And there will be others. We have six Heads remaining—their deaths will be enough for me.” I nodded toward the wailing Head of Ilasall. “He’s yours, little death. Consider Peter my gift to you.”
Gradually, like a rising sun, she lit up until she was beaming at me, a bounce in her step as she crossed the vast apartment.
Gods, she was beautiful. Dressed in a soldier’s uniform, sporting a million slashes all over, smeared in red, but utterly perfect.
Without second-guessing, she kicked Peter’s side, the blow sending him sideways. He sprawled onto his back alongside the bar, and I moved out of what was soon going to become a bloodbath.
“Alora is dead because of you.” Kali flipped the knife Zion had used to kill Livana. “My friends have suffered because of you.” Lowering to straddle my father, she swatted his flailing arms away. “But no more.” Positioning the blade at his neck, she hissed, “No more lies and no more wristbands.”
