In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem #1)(20)

King goes to the fridge, pulling out deli meat and mustard and getting busy on a sandwich. I know that he’s the leader of them all, but it’s a weird dynamic. They all move fluidly, even though King doesn’t really hang with them. From what I’ve seen. Or maybe he’s just not social. Just as that thought breezes through my brain, King drops down on the stool beside Kyrin, taking a massive bite out of his sandwich with his eyes on me. It’s creepy. As though he can hear the thoughts inside my head.

Kyrin slides over a glass of what looks like some mix of alcohol. Or Coke, maybe.

King’s eyes stay on mine as he picks it up and takes a long drink.

“Little Bird, come play,” Killian taunts, snapping me out of my Kingston trance.

“Play what?” I ask, watching them all with suspicion.

Killian raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Well, if I get to choose…”

If I play a game with them, cards by the looks of it, what could be the worst that could happen?

“Go on, Little Bird. They don’t bite,” Justice adds faintly.

“Oh, don’t we?” Killian teases, sending me a wink.

King kicks out the chair opposite his, nodding his head toward it. “Well, come on, Little Dove.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, while pinning me with his icy glare. “Don’t you want to see if we bite?”

My legs shake beneath my weight, and my breath catches in my throat, but I find myself heading straight for the chair. One step. Two step. Three… I sit, noticing the cards laid out on the table.

“What are we playing?”

King leans back in his chair and grins. “You.”

I clear my throat. I’ve never seen his smirk, and now I wish I hadn’t. It’s deadly, like something you’d imagine in your nightmares. The only difference between him and the monster that awaits you in those nightmares when you close your eyes is that Kingston comes dressed as everything you’ve ever wanted.

“He’s kidding.” Keaton stares at me blankly.

“Or is he?” Killian teases.

Kyrin rolls his eyes, dealing my hand. “The game is called sixers.” Kyrin hands me six cards and continues. “The object of the game is to read people. Can you do that?”

“Honestly?” I answer, scooping up my cards. “No.”

Kyrin pauses his dealing, his eyes going around the table. He keeps talking. “Well, you might learn, or you might not. I guess we’re about to find out. So the object is for all of us to pick up the cards. The dealer, who is me for this hand, has three questions. You start with the left and go around the circle. Use your three questions wisely, because that’s all you get before you have to guess the one card they pick out of the six they have. You get it right, you get that card. The player with the most cards at the end of the game has one dare to use. So, say if I won, I could choose one of you to do anything that I wanted, and you’d have to do it.”

I raise a challenging eyebrow. “And if we don’t?”

Kyrin flicks the deck of cards between his fingers. “We’ve never had someone tap out before, so who knows, Little Dove. I guess it would put you in an awfully fragile situation.”

I gulp quietly so I don’t exhibit my fear. “What are the rules?” I ask, peeking at my cards. This was an awful idea.

Kyrin pours another glass of vodka, sliding it toward me. “You can’t ask the color, the family, or whether it’s an odd number.”

“What?” I gasp, ignoring the drink. “How am I supposed to figure out the card?”

“I guess you’re about to figure that out,” Keaton murmurs.

Kyrin places the rest of the cards into the middle of the table and turns to Keaton. He searches his eyes for a few seconds. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Really? I thought it was red.”

Keaton glares.

Kyrin chuckles. “King of hearts.”

Keaton flicks the card around, revealing the king of hearts.

“What? That’s impossible!” I don’t understand the dynamic of many card games, but I’m almost certain I have never seen one played like this.

Killian leans into me. “This will be hard for you because you’re new and we’re intimidating, but I’ll tell you a secret.” He leans in farther, close enough for me to feel his lips over my earlobe. “People usually display what they hold.”

I have no idea what that means.

“Stop fucking cheating, Kill,” King mutters, shaking his head.

“Hey! I mean, we’ve never had a girl in our group before. I’m just making sure she has a fair go. And man, we’ve thrown her into the deep end by playing sixers.”

“Bullshit.” Killian chuckles, glaring at me. “We’ve been playing this game since we we’re two years old.”

The silence spills out between the group.

“Two?” I ask, shocked. How could a two-year-old know how to play a game that I can’t play?

Keaton answers, “He’s kidding.” He says the words, but I don’t feel their truth.

They continue to go around the circle, and I watch as one after the other gets them right. King has the most cards stacked against him when it’s my turn to deal. I put the cards in the middle of the table.