Page 113 of Kings & Carnage

My feminist friends would be mortified, but I couldn't help it. Neo usually left the details to Rock. The fact that he'd thought enough about my outfit to be specific about what I would wear to St. Andrew’s made me all hot and bothered.

I stood up and laid everything out on the bed. I had to hand it to the Kings.

The outfit was hot.

I had no idea what one wore to a sex club, but the Kings probably had a lot more experience, something I tried not to think about because even though I'd never been a jealous person I wanted to stab through the heart any woman who’d ever touched them.

I had no doubt the outfit would be perfect and I was suddenly excited despite the fact that we were going to St. Andrew’s to figure out how Laszlo Nagy was involved with Roberto and the others.

I would have been nervous to go to a sex club with anyone but the Kings, but I took comfort in the fact that any fun to be had would be had with them.

Because one thing I knew for certain was that the Kings would never let another man touch me in their presence.

I picked up my phone and looked at the time.

Shit.

It was time to do my hair and makeup.

St. Andrew’s — and my Kings — awaited.

Chapter54

Willa

For once I was the first one downstairs before an event and I used my phone to check my makeup, even though I'd already done that before I left my room.

This time I'd gone for polished natural makeup and a bright red lip, rationalizing that most of my face would be covered by my mask anyway.

I'd pinned up my hair, leaving a few wavy tendrils to fall around my face, and omitted jewelry altogether — except for my choker of course — to keep the focus on my magnificent costume.

It felt strange to stand in the kitchen in such a revealing outfit knowing we were going out, but I was looking forward to experiencing something new, and to seeing Claire, Quinn, and Erin.

Everyone else would be there too — the Spring Fever masquerade had been the talk of campus for weeks — but I had no idea how we would be greeted. Everyone still seemed to fear the Kings, but there was something else in their eyes now, a kind of nervous anticipation that put me on edge.

As for the Knights, they'd created a wall of silence around their house, no one willing to talk about Alexa or admit to knowing who was involved in the disappearance of the girls.

They didn't know we had the list Alexa had given us the last night we'd seen her. That no one had come forward with the names was a massive disappointment. I'd wanted to believe that when push came to shove, doing the right thing for Emma — for all the girls who'd gone missing — would be more important than loyalty to the gangsters who ran and funded our families.

Obviously I'd been wrong, about the Knights at least.

We could only hope to get a break at St. Andrew’s, where the Kings planned to split up, two of them digging for information while the third stayed with me, keeping an eye on Laszlo Nagy who apparently liked to participate in the Spring Fever masquerade.

I sighed, then heard the Kings descending the kitchen staircase.

Neo was at the front, wearing black silk boxers, no shirt over his chiseled chest, and a devil mask in shades of black and charcoal gray. It was a counterpoint to mine, Neo's adorned in glittering black jewels and sequins, trimmed with silky black feathers that alluded to the fact that Satan was a fallen angel.

His eyes looked almost demonic behind the mask, his gaze piercing as he took in my costume, and his angel tattoo made for a twisted addition to such a menacing costume.

Oscar stepped off the staircase behind him in a mask that was identical, except his had been crafted in glittering rubies winking amid scarlet feathers. His nipple piercings were on full display over corded abs, his red boxer briefs molded to his body, giving me a prime view of his perfect dick.

He was carrying his camera, and I had no doubt the night would net more than a few photographs.

I wasn't surprised when Rock came into view wearing a mask that complemented mine. Where Neo's mask had been trimmed with shades of black and Oscar's with red, Rock’s devil mask was white with blue accents.

His ocean eyes glinted with amusement behind the mask, his flawless chest accentuated by white tighty-whities that highlighted the bulge between his muscled thighs.

I smiled as they filed into the kitchen, lining up as if for my approval.

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