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“I can’t believe I havea son.”
Grim shook his head, raising his glass of whiskey. “Congratulations, brother.”
Glasses lifted around the table as we all tossed back our shots, celebrating the Royal Bastards’ way.
Sitting at the table where we all gathered, my gaze roamed over the faces of my brothers—the men who had become my family. We had shit to figure out, and the club was going to face some hard times ahead, but I didn’t doubt we would handle our own and do what was necessary to defeat our enemies.
We always did.
Church ended, and we rose to our feet, sharing a few bottles of whiskey before we left the chapel. My mind was preoccupied with a load of shit I didn’t need clouding my headspace, and I approached my pres, giving him a chin lift. “You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, Wraith.”
If he only knew. Finding Sid had become priority number one, and I was pissed I hadn’t found him yet.
Grim’s hand clasped down on my shoulder like he’d done a hundred times before today. Like everything was normal, except nothing about my life was fucking normal. Hadn’t been since the day I accepted the Devil’s Ride. Shit was about as fucked up as it could get and wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
Didn’t matter as I watched the shocked expression on his face as Grim’s fingers sank through my body like I consisted of nothing but air. His feet stumbled, and he nearly slammed face-first into the nearest wall.
The stricken look of panic on Ex’s face was like a knife plunged into my heart as he rushed to his feet at the same time Mammoth prevented Grim from hitting the wall with one meaty fist.
His arm shot out, and Grim bounced off my V.P.’s chest, momentarily confused.
Chaos erupted in the room. No one knew what to say or do. They didn’t understand my condition or the reasons behind it. That was my well-hidden secret. One I still didn’t have all the answers to, but I was determined to figure it out with Tawni and Zane in my life now.
I didn’t tell the others about my little problem before today. Not even Exorcist or Grim.
My best friend was scared as fuck because Ex knew exactly how dire the situation was without saying a word. All I could do was cringe like a little bitch, pathetic as it was. I knew what they all saw. I’d seen it often enough in the mirror in my bathroom at the Crossroads.
A pale flicker of the Royal Bastard brother they all counted on.
It was ironic as fuck.
How long will it take before I disappear altogether?
My nickname was supposed to be a joke.
Wraith.
Given because I knew how to make people disappear. Diablo wasn’t the only one skilled in that area. I liked to steal souls in the dead of night. I got off on the terror and thrill of the kill, of seeking justice and watching a man’s wretched soul leave his sin-ravaged body. The knowledge that I left men weak and falling to their knees, petrified with terror as they screamed, got me off like some sick freak.
I was fearless when I stood before Lucifer at the moment of my death, promising retribution for the men who buried me alive and hurt Tawni without an ounce of regret for the man I would become. It was my calling, my destiny, and also my curse.
Because like it or not . . . I was nothing but a goddamn ghost.
“Why haven’t you said anything?” Grim asked, piercing me with his intense stare.
“What was the point? I can’t do a fucking thing about it.”
“What about Lucifer?” Ex asked, his features pinched with worry.
“I’ll be fine. For all I know, he’s just fucking with me. You know how Lucifer gets his cheap thrills from making us suffer.”
“That isn’t the point,” Grim bellowed, looking beyond pissed. “I needed to know about this shit, Wraith.”
“Fine. You know now, pres.”
“Not good enough.”
“I’m handling it.”
