Vatican

Chapter 16

Luka

I slam down my glass with drunken anger. "Bastard," I grit, reeling from the news from Freya.

"You need to watch that toad, this happens too often," she replies coolly, accustomed to my temper. I ignore the rage that pumped in my body. I could kill him. I could literally shoot him in the head and no one would say anything. "There is no need to cause such drama," she says carefully, intuitively reading my thoughts. As twins, we have the ability to predict our thoughts.

"More importantly, you need to stop this addiction. It is getting out of hand," she adds – we both knew that she meant the fae habit. I huff, annoyed.

Despite understanding her words, a part of me cannot deny that I needed them. The drugs and alcohol I could give up any day. But faeries? I swear they kept me sane. Their light in my life kept me from being a complete bastard. I chuckle dryly at my own thoughts. I truly was addicted.

"That may be, dear sister, but regardless no one touches what is mine unless I say so," I growl downing my drink. She tsks refilling my glass. "This is a new one, I haven't seen him before," she comments, filling her own glass. I smile into my drink, I see her frown at my stupid grin. "You know he is from The Pits?" she spits disgustedly.

"Of course," I snarl, irritated by her reaction. She had seen him had she not? Did she not see that beauty that I did?

"All I am saying is, be careful. Those little bugs carry all kinds of things," she grimaces and drinks. I growl annoyed at the way she refers to him. "He isn't like that. I had him checked. He is fine," I muttered, annoyed to have to explain this to her.

"That may be so, but remember what happened to Jorgen? Poor bastard," she says and I swallow audibly. Jorgen was a close associate, someone we knew growing up. He too shared a fascination with the fae. Just like me, he used his wealth to invest in those pleasures on a daily basis.

Unfortunately, it went too far. The fae poisoned him with paralysis leaf then, slicing up his body as he slowly died from blood loss. I felt the alcohol churn in my stomach. The faerie was from The Pits. It was becoming more common. A cruel joke with ringleaders to get their own back at being looked down upon by the capital.

I sat quietly pondering this. He couldn't possibly do that. I had already fallen asleep with him before and he hadn't done anything. Surely he would have tried sooner? I decided to keep this information to myself. "Either way, I am surprised you chose him over Dixi. That little firecracker adored you," she sneered. She never liked him and was smug of the rumour about his banishment being true. Her last words soured my stomach more.

"Why does this matter to you?" I asked darkly. She stared at me for a long time. We were twins yet not identical. Our hair remained the same texture and style but that was about it. Our faces were different. Although others have said before that our mannerisms exposed our twin-ship.

She shrugged uncaringly. "You are an important man, to both the country and the family. We can't lose you to some soft-eyed plaything," she replied coldly. That was my sister. She stayed true to pixie stereotypes. The females were cold and calculating. The hidden power of the Provinces revolution. I remember when I first realised this during my research as a youth. Our women were more powerful than we gave them credit. A lot of battles were won from their cruel intuition. I hoped she was wrong about him.

I left my sister and stumbled tiredly to my apartment, aware of the silence of the empty office. He must be asleep by now. I stopped at the thought. Was I avoiding him? I didn't want sex tonight. There was nowhere else to put him tonight so I had to face him regardless.

I shook it off and opened the door. The apartment was dark and quiet. I tread carefully but managed to knock the few ornaments I had off the table nearby. I found him asleep on the couch, a small blanket draped over him. My eyes narrowed to the bottle of rum next to him. It was empty. He murmurs in his sleep and I gaze at his face. It seemed puffy and blotchy like he had been crying. My memory of Gerald returned to me. I growled which caused him to stir. He blinked up at me sleepily.