God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1)(20)

“What’s the plan for tonight, Satan’s heir?” Nikolai blows smoke in the direction of a girl passing by and she gives a flirty look. “What will we do for the initiation?”

“Ask Jeremy.” I tilt my head in his direction. He’s lounging on a sofa, two girls fighting for his attention like vapid animals.

He doesn’t push them away, but he’s not focused on them either. He tilts his head on his closed fist, listening to Gareth speak about fuck knows what.

Probably something boring.

But Jeremy doesn’t appear bored—I’ll give him that. And that says something, considering he finds life more dull than I do.

“Let’s go!” Nikolai drags me to them, and this time, I wrench myself from his grip so hard, he nearly crashes to the ground.

My cousin doesn’t seem to care about that as he dives in between the two girls and they shriek with delight. Seeming to have realized Jeremy won’t be paying them any attention for the next century, they switch to Nikolai’s lap.

I stalk behind Gareth and lean over to whisper in his ear, “Hi, big bro. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re avoiding me.”

He stiffens, but his expression doesn’t change.

I guess living with me for nineteen years has taught him a thing or two. But I’m sure the two or so years he lived before I came along were probably the happiest of his entire life.

We might be siblings, but we couldn’t look any more different. He has lighter hair like our mom and his eyes are a carbon copy of Dad’s green ones.

Where I’m muscular, he’s leaner, built like your next door neighbor or the college professor girls—and boys—can’t stop simping for.

The good boy Gareth.

The golden member and the future of the Carson family Gareth.

Pathetic, neurotypical Gareth.

“You’d have to be important for me to go out of my way and try to avoid you,” he says low enough for me to hear, then turns to Jeremy. “As I was saying, if they start talking, you’ll be the first one to be roped into this.”

“Have you enjoyed your car’s new headlights enough?” I change the subject, then whisper, “Because they might disappear. With the whole car. While you sleep.”

“Cameras are your worst enemy, Kill,” he tells me with a masked smile.

“Maybe they can…” I make a ‘whoosh’ sound. “Vanish, too.”

“The files that are instantly uploaded to my cloud, that could accidentally find their way to Mom’s inbox, will not.”

“Oh no, Kill stole my toy, Mom,” I say, then drop the mocking tone. “What are you? Six years old?”

“Make it three years old, because those files might accidentally drop in Dad’s and Grandpa’s inboxes, too.”

“And you have it in your good little heart to shatter the image they formed about their exemplary Killian? You don’t want to lose sleep over it, do you? It’ll hurt at night.” I tap the side of his temple. “Over here. And we don’t want you to start beating yourself up over their mental state, now, do we?”

“Vandalize my car and we’ll see how far this will go.”

“Tell you what, big bro. How about I keep the vandalizing suggestion to myself for the time being? Now that I think about it, there are more critical parts than mere headlights that can be tampered with.”

He finally glares at me, his lips pursing, and I grin, slapping him on the shoulder. “Just kidding.” Then I whisper, “Or not. Don’t provoke me again.”

Jeremy—who’s been watching the whole exchange without a change in his demeanor—decides to pick up where Gareth left off with him. “No one will dare go against me, and if they do, they’ll be taken care of.”

“Did I hear the words taken care of?” Nikolai emerges from between one of the girl’s tits, licking his lips. “Who do we need to take care of? Didn’t I say I want to be in on all the fun?”

Gareth pours himself a glass of whiskey. “Two juniors who are spouting rumors about the first initiation from a few weeks ago. They’re even tattling to Serpents.”

“Oh?” Nikolai’s eyes gleam as he absentmindedly pinches the girl’s nipple over her camisole. “Let me in, Jer. I’ll put the fear of God in their souls.”

“What if they’re not scared?” I fetch a cigarette, lean against Gareth’s chair, and light it. “You can’t punish or threaten someone who’s not familiar with the concept of fear.”

Jeremy raises a brow, swirling the contents of his drink as he watches me. “What do you suggest?”

“Find their Achilles’ heel and exploit it. If they don’t have one, fabricate it and make them believe it’s real.” I blow a cloud of smoke over Gareth’s head. “I’m sure our fixer here will be able to gather enough intel to help you out. Unless he’s too frightened to get his precious hands dirty.”

“You little—” Gareth starts, but I cut him off.

“What? You don’t want to help Jeremy uphold the club’s power? I thought you were friends.”

“Enough, Kill.” Jeremy points his drink to his left. “Niko will take care of it.”

I tsk through a puff of smoke.