Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)(43)

“I told you that yesterday.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine! And even though you just f*cked me all over your room, I’m still wearing white.”

“I hardly f*cked you all over my room. There is still the closet, the balcony—”

She put her hand over my mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?”

She was asking me? As if she wasn’t the reason I was like this to begin with. Reaching up, I took her hands off my face, drawing her closer to me, her lips just barely hovering over mine as I spoke.

“My father once told me history acknowledges four dangerous women: the woman who gave Adam the apple, the one who cast a thousand ships, the third who opened Pandora’s box, and the fourth…the wife of the Ceann na Conairte.”

She smiled from ear to ear and replied, “I’ve always wanted to be dangerous.”

Smirking, I leaned back, looking through the skylight. “That song you sang yesterday…sing it.”

She rested back against me, and I closed my eyes, hearing her voice.

She was made for me.





THIRTEEN


“We live in a dark and romantic and quite tragic world.”

~ Karl Lagerfeld





ETHAN - AGE SIXTEEN


“Let me see—”

“I got it.” He snapped, yanking his tie away from me and walking toward my aunt Cora by the fireplace. She glanced at Wyatt and then back at me.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just—”

I know. I mouthed back. He was always at his worst this time of the year. There wasn’t much anyone could do but just let Wyatt do what he wanted. Seeing Dona writing, as always, sitting by the window, her black shoes on the ground beside her. She was concentrating so hard, wiggling her toes excitedly. She didn’t even notice me as I sat opposite her by the window.

“ETHAN!” she screamed at me as I took the book away. “Give it back.”

“I hate being ignored!” I hollered back at her, smacking her hands away as I flipped the book open. “What are you writing anyway?”

“Ethan, I’m going to kill you!” She lunged at me, but I dodged, getting up with the book. I hadn’t meant to actually read it but seeing Mother’s name written there I couldn’t help it. “Ethan.”

Ignoring her and running around the room as she tried to steal it back, I read quickly.

“Wyatt, get your ass out of bed!” Melody yelled, ripping the sheets from the sleeping idiot who was still dry humping his pillow.

“Mom!” he hollered back. “Get out!”

“You get out. I own the house!” she yelled back.

“Ugh, you’re so an—” Before he could say it she took the pillow and beamed it right into his head, sending him back on his ass.

“What was that?” She crossed her arms.

“Seriously, why must we always train? I want to sleep.” He took the pillow and threw it back at her. But being the great woman she was, she caught it with one hand. However, the pillow burst, sending goose feathers all over the place.

They both froze.

Wyatt looked at his mother, his eyes widening in shock before he couldn’t help himself and broke out into a fit of laughter.

“You little….” His mother grabbed another pillow and began to beat him mercilessly until all of sudden a pillow was beamed at the back of her head.

Upon turning she saw the teenage reflection of herself with green eyes already in battle mode with two pillows in hand. She tossed one to Wyatt, who made his escape, quickly grabbing onto the pillow, spinning around to face her.

“Et tu, Dona?” Melody asked her daughter.

“Caesar must fall, Mother,” her daughter said, charging toward her. But before she made it a pillow hit her square in the face.

In shock, Donatella looked up at her brother, who glared down at her, trying his best to be serious, as was his nature, but even he couldn’t help but smile.

“Not on my watch,” he said, standing by his mother, who handed him a pillow.

“And so the battle lines have been drawn,” Wyatt said, a fat grin on his face, pulling his sister up before bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Melody glanced at her first born, saying, “Remember…”

“Mercy is only for God and the Pope,” he replied, well versed in her battle strategies.

“FIGHT!” Dona yelled, charging once again.

All-out chaos ensued as the most epic battle of pillows began.

Feathers flying left and right in people’s faces, mouths, getting stuck in their hair. Neither would bow their heads in defeat. In the Callahan family victory was the only option. And part of victory, their mother had told them, was strategic planning. She knew her son and daughter would fight with their pillows until every last feather was out. However, she was wiser, much more cunning, with years of victories under her belt. While her first born kept them distracted and she half-heartily fought back with one hand...her right hand was gathering up all the other pillows and throwing them behind her. It was only when every feather had fallen out of Donatella’s and Wyatt’s pillows did they realize they didn’t have any other weapons.

“CHEATER!” Wyatt yelled, pointing at them.

“Ethan?” Melody called him. “What do we say about people who call others cheaters?”