Amionette watched Syncere as he walked away, and the moment he was gone, she pulled her phone out from the pocket she’d sewn into her dress to text Zuri to tell her to come and find her. They needed to talk ASAP.

  Zuri and Sacred noticed Amionette’s disappearing act. Their father had been whipping them around the ballroom, introducing them to the state’s constituents, and though Amionette had escaped, neither Zuri nor Sacred had been as lucky, until she received the text message from Amionette to meet her in the restroom in the atrium.

  “Daddy, give me and Sacred a minute, we need to go to the little girl’s room,” she whispered from behind her father. He was so into the conversation he was having with one of the senators, that he simply nodded his head, shewing her and her sister away. Zuri reached for Sacred’s hand and whisked her away to the bathroom.

  “Thank God for that,” Sacred all but shouted. Too much conversation made her feel uncomfortable, especially when the topic was out of her scope. “Where are we going?”

  “Amionette wants us to meet her in the bathroom,” Zuri rushed out as she looked over her shoulder at Sacred. “I bet it’s got something⁠—”

  Zuri hit something with a thud. She hadn’t been paying attention as she was walking through the crowd and ran smack dab into someone.

  “I’m so sor…” she stopped for a second, surprise ringing through her at the person before her.

  “Yuzuri? What are you doing here?” the man asked, and Zuri was even more confused why he would be in a place like this. Or how…

  “Fletcher, I could ask you the same thing.” Zuri placed her hands on her hips. She’d been wondering if she’d ever run into Fletcher or catch him somewhere on a humble. Zuri had wondered about the full story of what he and Amionette went through that would have sent her into such a spiral. Here he was, chipper as ever, while Amionette was left to pick up the pieces of her life.

  Sacred came forward. When her sister released her hand, from the force of her snatching her hand away, she knew something was wrong. Fletcher’s eyes shifted to Sacred, a smile appeared on his face. Sacred was gorgeous—young-looking, but beautiful.

  “Well hello to you,” he slurred, and Zuri figured he must have been drunk.

  “Oh no you don’t. You and Amionette haven’t been broken up a good two weeks and you’re already sniffing out something else?” Zuri’s face twisted with confusion and disgust. She knew she was right about the feelings she had toward Fletcher—he was just the man she thought he was.

  “Broken up?” Fletcher’s voice up ticked with confusion. The last he’d checked, Amionette was dead. He was certain that he’d killed her, though he couldn’t and hadn’t let anyone else know that.

  “Yes, broken up. She told me the two of you were no longer together⁠—”

  “Is she here, by chance? Is Netty here?” He looked around, behind Zuri to see if he could see her. In just two weeks, his life had changed drastically. The night he killed Amionette, or thought he had killed her, had altered more than just his physical state, but his mental well-being. He was losing time, forgetting things. Ending up in places without even remembering how he got there.

  “She is, but I doubt she’d want to see you. Come on, Sacred.” Zuri pulled her sister away, headed toward their original destination. “That muthafucka got some nerve,” Zuri uttered. Sacred’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. When Zuri got mad, she turned into a different person, and if it was one thing she knew about her sister, it was that she didn’t play and wouldn’t let anyone hurt the people she loved and cared about.

  When they made it to the foyer, where it was much quieter, Sacred asked, “Is that guy the reason Amionette’s been staying with you?”

  “Yep, but don’t say that to anybody else. I have a feeling this thing is much bigger than I know. Come on,” Zuri said, rushing to get to Amionette. She figured it would be better to inform her that she’d seen Fletcher than for her to see him on her own. That would be frightening.

  When they made it to the bathroom, it was void of everyone but Amionette, whose cheeks were so red, she could have easily been mistaken for a tomato.

  “What’s got you in here smiling like a fat Cheshire?” Sacred laughed and reached into her purse to freshen up her lipstick. She’d consumed so much champagne that night, just trying to give herself a fighting chance to mingle, her lipstick was beginning to fade away.

  “I have to tell you about Syncere…”

  “Synceeeere?” Both Zuri and Sacred emphasized. Amionette shook her head, trying to remove the smile from her face, but even baby shaking syndrome wouldn’t take that smile away.

  “Yes, Syncere⁠—”

  “Okay, wait,” Zuri placed her hands in front of her, “before you get into that, I need to tell you about Fletcher.”

  Amionette’s hand flew to her stomach. The mention of his name aloud caused her immense pain. “What-what about him?”

  Her hands began to clam up. Her stomach tossed about like boots in a dryer. She had not seen or heard from him—not that she was expecting to since he assumed she was dead, but hearing his name in the present tense brought a fear about inside of her that was indescribable.

  Zuri placed her hands onto the sides of Amionette’s arms. This was the reaction she always got whenever Fletcher’s name was mentioned. It was common for someone who was going through a break up to perhaps tense up when they heard the name or had to come face-to-face with the person they’d detached from, but this was a different reaction. Zuri registered this severe form of a reaction akin to trauma.

  “It’s okay, Amionette. I was just going to tell you that I saw him. He approached me⁠—”

  “Did you speak to him? Did he say anything?” Amionette began rambling off questions. Zuri, very quickly, recapped their interaction, and noticeable fear flooded Amionette’s face.

  “Amionette, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” Sacred said as she put her nude lipstick back into her bag. She came over to try and assist Zuri with Amionette, but Amionette was already detaching from Zuri and headed for the door.

  “Amionette,” Zuri said to the back of her friend’s head. She knew she wasn’t about to just walk away from her, like she wasn’t just calling her name.

  There was a lock on the back of the door, and if Amionette was going to have this conversation, she knew that no one else needed to hear it. What she’d planned to tell Zuri and Sacred would be so unheard of, so strange, that it would be a wonder if they didn’t run out of the bathroom from the tea she was about to spill. Amionette turned the lock on the door and then came closer to Zuri and Sacred.

  “I need to tell you all about what happened between Fletcher and I, and then about how I know Syncere,” she spoke slowly and calmly, though her heart felt like it was going to come through her throat.

  “What does Syncere have to do with you and Fletcher?”

  Amionette hoisted herself up and onto the sink. She propped herself up against the cool mirror, going back in her mind to the night that started this whole thing. She exhaled deeply, and then began telling her story. A story she hoped that if her friends cared enough about her, they would believe she wasn’t telling a lie.

  Eager to return to Amionette, Syncere’s foot tapped impatiently as he stood off to the side of the dance floor with his brothers, waiting for the man who was supposedly supposed to help them take their business to the next level. There were eyes on him, though he could not tell where they were coming from. He’d sensed that there was someone who had been looking at him the entire night. It made him feel uneasy. He chalked up the extra irritation of waiting for the man his brother had told him he just had to meet, to the fact that there was possibly someone watching him.

  “Tyrian, I don’t like people who aren’t punctual, and I was busy. Come find me when this man’s actually ready to talk,” Syncere advised, and just as he was about to walk up, a man approached them. He looked a bit disheveled, and Syncere hoped this wasn’t the man Tyrian had given such high praise to.

  “This is him right here,” Tyrian slapped his brother in the stomach and pulled him toward the man so they could converse.

  “Syncere, I want you to meet my guy, Fletcher. He’s number one right now in the city for real estate development,” Tyrian introduced. Fletcher held his hand out for him to shake, but Syncere felt apprehension going in to shake this man’s hand. What were the odds that this Fletcher was the same as Amionette’s? If he was the same man, Syncere would not have to go far to handle business for Amionette, for the woman he’d planned to claim as his own.

  “Don’t be rude,” Tyrian gritted out, looking between him and Fletcher.

  “Excuse me,” Syncere said, readjusting himself. He reached his hand across the space and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” Syncere lied. Malicio and Tyrian both heard the insincerity in their brother’s voice. It had been uncommon for them to see, since their brother never lied, but it was clear, he did not think it was nice. They could tell from his stiffened body language.

  “That’s quite the handshake,” Fletcher mentioned as he and Syncere looked one another square in the eye.

  “Indeed. My brother tells me you have a plan to take us to the next level? I’d love to know more about it.” Syncere’s words were normal, his attitude behind them, the force and strength behind them, were not.

  “Absolutely—”

  “Fletcher, I’m ready to go,” Shaylene Upswing approached the men. “I’m starting to feel sick again,” she said and reached down to rub her stomach.

  “Not right now, Shay. I’m talking business,” Fletcher told her, completely dismissing his baby mama.

  “Please,” she begged. All night she’d been working the room, and feeling exhausted was an understatement. She was completely worn out. Being the mayor of Nashville came with many perks, but it also came with many disadvantages and discomforts. Having to come and mingle tonight was one of the many discomforts she’d experienced, and now that she was pregnant, standing on her feet too long had made her miserable.

  “Let’s set something up. Let this beautiful woman get home and get her rest,” Syncere instructed, and Shaylene smiled at him. She eyed him from feet-to-head, wondering who the fine specimen was.

  “Thank you, Mr…”

  “Brown. Misters Brown. Syncere,” he placed his hand on his chest, “and my brothers, Tyrian and Malicio. It’s nice to meet you, Mayor,” he finished, taking her hand in his. She blushed, and Frederick didn’t like how friendly his baby mama and Syncere were being.

  He snatched her hand from his, anger taking over. “Didn’t you say you was ready to go?” he questioned, and rather than argue, she immediately agreed. Unfortunately, she had been a witness to Fletcher’s anger many times, and she believed if she weren’t pregnant with his child, she could have easily become a target. Shaylene knew not to tempt him—after all, she needed things between them to work out. She was an unmarried woman, pregnant, black, and the city already wanted her crown. She had to keep things together. Everything had to appear to be on the up-and-up.

  Besides, she planned to have Fletcher killed shortly after the baby was born anyway. A tragic construction accident, she mused, not even realizing the irony in her plans.

  “I’ll get with you sometime this week. It was nice meeting you,” Fletcher told Syncere and carted Shaylene away like a runaway slave.

  When Fletcher and Shaylene were out of earshot, Tyrian stepped in front of his brother, along with Malicio, both with disdainful looks on their faces.

  “What the hell was that?” Malicio was the first to question. “I’ve never known you to be a liar. Tonight, you’ve been acting completely differently⁠—”

  Syncere held his hand up to his brother, silencing him. “We need to go home to have this conversation. I’m going to say my goodbyes to Amionette, and then, we will discuss our involvement, or lack thereof, with Fletcher, at home.”

  “What do you mean? The papers are all but signed,” Tyrian pointed out, throwing his hands into the air.

  “I knew everything wasn’t going to be peachy when I returned, but I didn’t know that even after all this time, you still need me to fact check behind muthafuckas. You don’t even know who you’re getting into bed with!” Syncere roared. It was so loud, several people in their vicinity turned to look at them, and his eyes were heading in the direction of red.

  Thinking about what he’d done to Amionette and how he was just walking around the free world like he’d had no involvement, it pissed him off beyond reason.

  Malicio placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, realizing that if Syncere was losing his cool, something was definitely wrong.

  “Okay, go say your goodbyes. Meet us outside,” Malicio suggested, and when Syncere turned to leave, Tyrian and Malicio both worried about the conversation they were about to have. For the last century, they’d been handling things on their own. They thought they’d been doing a good enough job. But in one night, their big brother was going to dispel the “good enough” job they’d been doing with one simple fact.

  Fletcher was not the man they thought he was, and while it seemed like they stood to gain a lot of money, the souls they did have left, they would lose if they got into bed with Fletcher Monahan.

  Syncere straightened out his tuxedo. He noticed it bunching from getting upset. At times, it seemed like he got bigger the angrier he became. Syncere searched the ballroom for Amionette, and when he couldn’t spot her, or Zuri or Sacred, he figured she might not have come back into the room just yet. On his way out of the ballroom, it became abundantly clear that someone was following him. He rounded the corner, passing several pillars on his way. Syncere wanted to be out of the way so the person following him would be caught off guard when he pulled him into the hallway.

  Syncere headed toward the men’s’ bathroom. It was just up ahead, and there was no one else in the hall. He stopped just short of the door and swiftly turned around. His arms out, he gripped his follower around the collar and tossed him into the bathroom.

  The man he’d gripped did not fall to the ground. He swept his leg underneath himself and hoisted himself up. His body never completely dropped to the floor. Syncere had never seen this man a day in his life. He might not always remember a name, but he always remembered a face. And this man’s face was anything but familiar.

  “What do you want?” Syncere sped over to the man, shoving him against the wall. The man smiled, and then there was a wave of familiarity. Not in the way he smiled, but in the feeling he got from the smile.

  Syncere squinted; he wasn’t quite sure how he could possibly know this man, especially someone from this time. He had caramel skin, looked to be in his forties, wealthy. A mustache and connected beard, peppered in black and gray.

  I’ve been looking for you, but I’ve had to be careful, the man telepathically communicated his message. His voice shrieked recognition in Syncere’s mind.

  He didn’t dare mention his name aloud. He didn’t even have the chance to think it. The man stole his thought right from his head.

  That’s right, it’s me. Jasper. I told you we would cross paths again.

  “Indeed. Is this a friendly visit? Why were you following me?”

  Friendly news? Yes. Good news? No.

  Syncere let him go, allowing him the space to straighten himself out. What business could Jasper Rich have with him? He knew they would meet again at some point. He’d assumed that it would be under different circumstances—this was not what he had expected.

  “News of what?” Syncere asked, leaning against the wall, bracing for impact.

  I’ve come to warn you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you everything I told you before. Apparently, I altered the course of history, and because of that, the world has been thrown into some sort of… chaos, Jasper admitted. He wasn’t supposed to even be mentioning to half of the things he did to Syncere in the past, and because he did, slavery ended much earlier than it was supposed to. People who were supposed to be born were not. State, government, world officials, who were supposed to rise to power never did because of what they’d done.

  Jasper was supposed to be a neutral party. He served a higher counsel, a secret society that served the human and supernatural factions. They were to keep balance and restore it when necessary. For the last few years, Jasper was expected to be preparing to take down the Brown brothers, but there was something special about the young men. He liked them—they were young black brothers who hadn’t harmed anyone.

  Because of Syncere, he’d been able to have a better life. His soul had given him his appearance back. He no longer looked like the scary thing he truly was. Because of his orders, the orders he could not fulfill, he’d been on the run. The Free Garrison would not be happy when they found him. They would kill him, painfully, for his treason.

  “Chaos? What kind of chaos? What does that have to do with me?”

  Jasper paced the floor, searching for the words to tell Syncere for him to understand the severity of he situation.

  Everything and nothing. The world requires a balance, a balance dictated by the powers that be. You and your brothers are in danger. I’m the one who dug you up. In six month’s time, they’ll be coming for you…

  “They who? Who’s coming for us?” Syncere questioned, a stern look on his handsome face. None of this made any sense. He and his brothers had been living peacefully, except for when they weren’t, and hadn’t bothered a soul. How could something like this come to pass?

  The same people who were after you in 1918.

  “Vampires?”

  Vampires, wolves, witches… you name it. In 1918, they attempted to take you down under the guise of you and your brothers taking over too much of the city. They didn’t want you to find out about their existence.

  “And now?”

  And now, Jasper started, placing his hand on Syncere’s shoulder, I’ve chosen to help you. This is the destiny you are meant to fulfill. You have to overthrow the powers that be. If you don’t, the world as we know it will disappear.

 

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