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it.
    I clear my mind of the fog that has settled. It is momentarily out of my hands. I have a mission before me that needs completed. I thrust all of my energy into finishing what I started years ago- I will be the best Whittenhower Patriarch since Wilhelm, the one who refused to play their twisted game of Master of the Universe.
    One after the other, my guests are settled into comfortable quarters near those they adore and far away from those that they are tempted by or despise. Past residents of the estate find their rooms waiting for them as if they’d never left: Niel, Ella, Whitney, Priss, Fate, Kristal, Adelaide, Regina, Jamie, and me. Whitney placed the majority of the Zeitlers on the fourth floor’s south wing while we reside on the third floor’s north wing. Diane’s new suite is between Daniel’s and Ade’s. Diane wanted her privacy, but was smart enough to know that she better be with her allies.
    To my annoyance, Marcus is with Regina. Her room s adjoin Jamie’s suite and Niel’s old nursery, which is now Spyder’s room. It was intelligent thinking on Whitney’s part, placing Spyder next to Marcus and Regina, and Jamie close to his Master. No doubt several of us are gunning for him, resurrection be damned. I hate knowing my wife isn’t in my room. We will see about instigating a change on that.
    “Hey,” I call out to the ninja ghosting down Misery Castle’s labyrinth-like corridors. The delicate beauty turns to me with a grimace on her face. A warrior glares out of her violet-contact eyes.
    “You should stay here with us,” I genuinely offer the eighty pound female. She’s so petite that the top of her head barely reaches my chest. “I know you can take care of yourself, but it would be safer.”
    “I have no need of protection,” Syn forcefully replies. It’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard her speak and we’ve been friends for years.
    “I know,” I softly murmur , needing to convince her to stay here. I can’t speak of our predicament, but I can try to sway the tides. “Coming back here has to be difficult for your sister. Fate doesn’t do well with transition, and she’s moved around so much since the paparazzi descended upon us. Fate needs you,” I manipulate Syn with the love of her sister.
    Syn bares her teeth at me, hating it when I use my well-honed persuasion techniques on her. A jerk of her chin is her reply. That one action speaks a thousand words: Yeah, I’ll move in, asshole. Yeah, I love my sister that much. & fuck you! I grin at her, denting my dimples for added affect. She snarls at me, Syn’s version of a smile.
    “Where do you work? I’ll make sure the staff gives you a wakeup call and has your meals regulated with your schedule.” I ask the question we all have tried to ferret out. Faith Simpson changed her name to Cynthia Brooks- illegally. Faith is a dead-end and Cynthia is a ghost. Regina’s hacking skills, Marcus’ persuasion, and Dexter’s mentoring couldn’t get that information.
    I’m greeted with a one-finger salute for my poor attempts. “I love you too, sweetling,” I taunt her and she smiles at me again- sneers.
    “An hour,” flows deeply from her chest as she blends into shadows of the winding hallway and disappears.
    After years of interpreting her short-hand conversations, I guess that an hour means she’s getting her stuff and coming back. I hope, anyway.
    I need a distraction before I implode. Right now Jamie has a target on his face, my fist aching for connection. An urge to hogtie Marcus and haul him from Regina’s room overpowers me. A primordial instinct to mark my territory boils in my blood. I head toward Spyder’s suite looking for my distraction before I give into the urge to piss on Misery Castle’s walls, kill my competition, or fuck my wife while her lover watches. I’m not in a good mental place right now.
    A sigh of relief pours from my lungs when I see them. The stunning pair of siblings is breathtaking. If