Gluttony

by Katie May

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  RYLAND

  I stared through the thicket of trees at the minute house nestled

  snugly between two large oaks. Smoke wafted from a chimney on

  the shingled roof, and freshly planted perennials dotted the

  driveway. It appeared… cozy. Domestic.

  Not a building that held my kidnapped brother.

  “This doesn’t seem right,” Bash murmured, echoing my own thoughts.

  He was perched rigidly on a low-hanging branch, his face taut with tension.

  Dusk was settling, painting everything in shades of gray and metallic violet.

  We would have to wait until nightfall to make our move.

  “I keep expecting my grandma to exit with a tray of cookies,” I replied

  dryly, narrowing my eyes.

  What the fuck was Jax doing there?

  A horrible thought occurred to me like a physical blow to my chest.

  Maybe we had been going about this the wrong way.

  Maybe Jax hadn’t been kidnapped. Maybe he had chosen to leave

  willingly.

  Even as the thought formed, I shook my head vehemently. There was no

  way in hell Jax would leave Z and the rest of us. This congenial house with

  the opened windows, freshly trimmed shrubbery, and welcome mat on the

  front porch was nothing but an illusion. Something pretty designed to hide a

  prickly interior.

  “I want to do some recon,” I decided, stepping forward. Bash

  immediately grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. When I swiveled my head

  to glare at him, his eyes were brimming with grim determination.

  “Not on your own. I’m already worried sick about Z and the others. I

  don’t want to be worried about your ugly ass too.” He ground his jaw, a brief

  flicker of vulnerability appearing in his eyes before he shut that shit down.

  Bash didn’t “do” emotions, but it was easy to see how frightened he was for

  Z and the others.

  Aw. The Mage actually had a heart.

  I, on the other hand, trusted that our girl would escape whatever hell she

  had found herself in unscathed. She was a fighter, a brawler, and she would

  not hesitate to kill every one of those assholes who’d kidnapped her. Z would

  come home to me, to us.

  I had to believe that.

  I shoved my worry behind a steel box and focused on the mission before

  us. Find and save Jax.

  Before time ran out.

  My heart lurched in my chest, each consecutive thump more deafening

  than the last, but I kept my face blank when I turned back to Bash.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said roughly, pulling the shadows away from my face to

  meet his eyes. “Stand guard. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Before he could mount another protest, I stealthily jumped higher up the

  tree until I was dangling above the flat roof. With the shadows concealing

  me, I jumped down, silently rolling until I came to a complete stop.

  Sliding onto my stomach, I reached downwards until my fingers brushed

  the window pane. It took only a second for me to slide it open and flip inside,

  the shadows my only shield. One of my hands held a double-edged blade,

  while the other had a smaller dagger. Both weapons—when wielded by me—

  could be fatal.

  It was...not what I was expecting.

  Multicolored couches were scattered around, taking the cold edge off the

  wood-paneled room. Two brown, battered armchairs were placed in opposite

  corners of the room, and a large fireplace was embedded into the wooden

  logs. A myriad of paintings dotted the wall, though I couldn’t decipher what

  they were supposed to represent.

  The room appeared cozy, just like the exterior of the house.

  I strained my ears for any sound, but when the house remained silent, I

  crept to the door and pushed it open on silent hinges.

  A flurry of shivers skipped through my veins as I surveyed the perfectly

  mundane hallway. Plush, red carpeting. Wooden walls. Vases resting on

  wooden stands.

  Something was not right.

  I easily slipped through rooms unnoticed, my unease growing with each

  passing second. One of the rooms appeared to be a modest master bedroom

  with a connecting bathroom and closet. Another was a game room with two

  antique pool tables on one side and a dusty couch on the other.

  There was no sign of Jax or Aaliyah. Actually, there was no sign of

  anyone at all.

  After checking each room twice, I climbed out of the window, shimmied

  down the side of the roof, and hurried back to a stone-faced Bash. He aimed

  vacuous eyes at me as his magic crackled in his palm.

  “Anything?” he questioned, and I shook my head mutely, wispy shadows

  moving in tandem.

  “Are you sure this is the right building?” I crouched down behind a thick

  bush, narrowing my eyes at the inconsequential, cheery house.

  “Positive.” Bash nodded his head resolutely as he unfolded the yellowing

  map. “He should be here.”

  “This must be a trap set up for Z,” I declared, and the thought of anyone

  attacking my girl made my hands clench into fists.

  “I detected remnants of magic when we first arrived,” Bash admitted,

  eyes scrunching in concentration. His long lashes flickered over his

  cheekbones as he took a deep, fortifying breath. “I assumed it was protection

  wards, but now, I’m not so sure. It’s unlike anything I have ever felt before.”

  His eyes snapped open abruptly, piercing me with an unreadable look. “The

  power this person wields rivals that of all of the Kings combined.”

  Fear slashed across my chest like a clawed hand. I tightened my grip on

  my blades as I stared at Bash in growing horror.

  “No one is that powerful.”

  “This person is,” Bash argued, voice curt. He closed his eyes once more

  as his own signature power rippled just beneath his skin, transforming his

  veins from blue to a luminescent green. “Fuck!” He scrubbed at his short

  blond hair, causing the strands to stick up in all directions.

  “What?” I was instantly on alert, seconds from attacking anyone who

  dared venture too close.

  I didn’t like this. Not one fucking bit.

  “The magic I noticed… it’s not a protection ward. It’s a fucking illusion

  spell.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  JAX

  I drank deeply from the man, licking up the column of his neck to

  catch any fallen drops.

  Fuck, he tasted good—like sunshine and whiskey bottled

  together.

  My fangs retracted back into my mouth as I dropped his body to the

  ground. He landed with a thump alongside the dozens of other men and

  women.

  Murderers and rapists, Aaliyah had told me. They didn’t deserve to live,

  and they sure as hell didn’t deserve my mercy.

  Licking at my bloody lips, I prepared myself for my next meal when a

  manicured hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Now, now, Jax, you need to slow down,” Aaliyah purred, smiling in

  what she probably thought was a seductive manner. She leaned forward until

  her breasts were practically spilling out of her dress, but I paid her no mind.

  She could try to seduce me all she wanted, but she wasn’t my mate. No,

  she was the enemy.

>   I knew I had to kill her—had to cut open her tiny neck—but I was too

  driven by blood-lust to think coherently. I was mad when I didn’t drink, and I

  was mad when I did.

  Still, I was sane enough not to touch the vile woman with a two-foot pole.

  She provided me blood sources, and that was it. I wouldn’t fuck her if she

  was the last woman alive.

  I would never—not in a million years—betray Z. My love. My light. My

  world.

  The memory of her momentarily propelled me out of my gluttonous

  thoughts. I vigorously shook my head, attempting to dispel any and all

  thoughts of her. Whenever her face made an unwarranted appearance, I

  forgot myself. I forgot the monster I knew myself to be.

  No! I need to drink.

  More. More. More. More.

  Aaliyah placed another hand on my shoulder, and once more, I shrugged

  her off. I eyed the pulsing vein in her neck, but she merely laughed giddily.

  “It’s not me you’ll be drinking from,” she whispered ominously, brushing

  at my hair. I snarled at her, but my mind was already elsewhere.

  More. More. More. More.

  I craved blood more than I craved anything else in my life. I needed it.

  Aaliyah stood, swiping a hand down her thick skirt, before nodding

  towards the dirty man being dragged forward. He was dropped

  unceremoniously before me, his head lolling to the side.

  “He raped and killed two little girls,” Aaliyah answered my unspoken

  question. “Drink from him.”

  Power fizzled in the air as she focused on me. I didn’t know how to

  describe the sudden, intense urge coursing through me. I wanted to—no, I

  needed to—sink my fangs into the bastard’s neck. Any neck, really.

  “Be gluttonous,” Aaliyah continued darkly, and another image assaulted

  me.

  My fangs piercing the neck of a golden-haired angel. Her eyes wide in

  terror. Her blood cascading down her porcelain skin like a brand.

  I could taste it, taste her, like my fangs were already embedded in her

  throat, sucking. It was unlike anything I had ever drunk before. Decadent,

  like I was drinking directly from paradise.

  No! You can’t hurt her! She’s your mate!

  She’s your…

  I couldn’t formulate the rest of the thought as Aaliyah poked and prodded

  at my mind.

  With a ferocious roar, I lunged at the man and stuck my fangs in his neck.

  I would drink until he was dry. Until there was nothing left of the pathetic

  excuse for a human being.

  And then, I’d find my golden-haired angel and drink her dry too.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Z

  I knew we were on a time-crunch, but none of my guys protested

  when I insisted we bury all of the dead humans. I suspected they

  could see how close to the edge I was—how perilous my hold on

  rationality was. Normally, I didn’t like it when they treated me like a

  porcelain doll, but there was no denying that a doll was what I currently was.

  Miles's death had broken me.

  All together, there were one hundred and sixty-seven deaths. One

  hundred and sixty-seven humans who had been murdered today alone.

  My stomach clenched tightly, threatening to expel all of its contents. I

  pressed my lips together to keep the impending vomit at bay.

  As Lupe carried the last body over to the hole my other mates had dug, I

  placed a hand on his arm to stop him and peered at the dead female. She

  appeared to be in her mid to late twenties with dark hair, hazel eyes, and an

  athletic body. Like with all the humans, I sifted through her pockets until I

  stumbled across an identification card.

  Ali.

  “I’m so sorry, Ali,” I murmured, closing her eyes. I didn’t truly believe

  that closing the eyes of the dead would bring them any peace. I supposed I

  did it for myself more than anything. I could at least pretend that they were

  only sleeping.

  A sob got lodged in my throat as Lupe gently set her body in the hole

  alongside the other deceased humans. Most of the ones I had rescued had

  long since fled, but a few remained and helped us bury their fellow humans. I

  noticed a man drop to his knees as he stared at a vacant-eyed female. He cried

  for his lover, his wrenching sobs clawing at an already empty spot where my

  heart should be.

  It took hours to bury all of them. Long, grueling hours where more and

  more of my soul became buried right alongside them. I kept their IDs in my

  backpack.

  When the time was right, I would get into contact with their family

  members. They deserved to know what happened to their loved ones.

  “I am so sorry, Z,” Killian whispered brokenly. His glassy eyes stared at

  the mass graveyard with blatant horror.

  “We need to bury Miles,” I sniffled, wrenching my gaze away. Killian

  had always made me feel too much, too quickly. His eyes were capable of

  stripping away my carefully crafted layers until I was bared before him.

  Killian, easily able to read me, nodded once, turning towards Devlin and

  Lupe. My two mates were crowded around the tiny boy who had weaseled

  his way into my heart. There was no rhyme or reason for it. He had arrived

  like a wrecking ball, destroying a crucial piece of myself in the process.

  Devlin smoothed back a strand of Miles’s honey blond hair, a tender

  expression on his face. The kid was the only one who would receive a

  separate burial. Selfish? Maybe, but it felt unexplainably right.

  “Do you have any words you’d like to say?” Lupe asked quietly, his

  rough voice a balm to my tattered soul.

  Ignoring them all, I crawled on the muddy grass until I was able to press

  my lips to Miles’s cold forehead. God, he was so still. A living icicle.

  Well, not living anymore.

  A choked sob escaped me as I squeezed his fingers with one hand and

  brushed his hair away with the other.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Miles. I broke my promise. I’m so, so sorry.” The

  tears continued to escape faster and faster, trailing down my cheeks and

  landing on my lips. To my mates, I said, “He had a sister. A younger sister.

  We have to find her.”

  It was the least I could do.

  Because I had failed him. I had failed this innocent, cherubic boy. He had

  placed his trust in me, and I had shattered that gift. Now, I was left holding

  the broken pieces.

  “We will,” Devlin promised quietly, squeezing my shoulder. With a

  tenderness that belied the scowl currently contorting his face, he helped me to

  my feet. I sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent. “The Kings will pay for

  this,” he vowed into my hair.

  “Do you think they knew about the Carnival?” I whispered against his

  skin. Devlin took a shuddering breath, not answering, but his silence was

  confirmation.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Killian stated at last. “They’re power-hungry

  assholes. They’ll look for any way to stomp on the humans.”

  “Then we kill them,” one of the men I rescued said vehemently, his eyes

  hurling daggers. “And if you pompous assholes stand in our way—”

  “These pompous assholes helped save your life,” I roa
red, pulling away

  from Devlin to face the crowd of humans. I counted at least thirty, all dirty-

  faced and frail. More than one hundred must have already fled when I freed

  them.

  “How do we know they’re any better than their fathers?” another woman

  demanded, glaring at my princes. I bristled at her tone, but I knew she had a

  point. These people had been through hell and back. If I was in their shoes, I

  would be cautious and fearful as well. For all they knew, the princes had

  something much more nefarious planned.

  “Because we’re sickened by the way humans are treated,” Devlin said,

  stepping forward. “We’re disgusted by it. When we take over, we’ll work to

  grant equal rights to all citizens.”

  “That’s all talk!” someone screamed, voice shrill. “Why should we

  believe you?”

  “Because we’re in love with a human,” Killian answered simply, a hint of

  his Incubus allure unintentionally slipping into his voice. My mouth dropped

  open at his declaration.

  Surely, he didn’t mean love love.

  Did he?

  I shoved it into a metal box, locked it, and buried it beneath layers and

  layers of pain. I would have to dissect his words—and my own feelings—at a

  later time.

  “I want a world where she and my children can live peacefully alongside

  us,” Devlin added, expression turning wistful and almost dreamy. “I want to

  make this world a better place not just for her, but for all of you. What

  happened here today should never happen again.”

  Lupe merely grunted in agreement.

  “We were blind before,” Killian added, eyes forlorn. “We knew our

  parents were capable of evil, but we hadn’t understood the extent of it. We

  see it now. And we want to stop it.”

  I could still see indecision flicker on the humans’ faces, so I took a step

  forward until I was shoulder to shoulder with Devlin.

  “I’m the official assassin of the Kingdom,” I stated, my steely voice

  ringing out in the electrically charged air. It was unnaturally silent, as if even

  the birds had stopped chirping to hear my speech. “I won The Damning, and

  a strong magic was placed on me to protect the Kings.” Murmuring erupted

  immediately from the assembled crowd as they sent me scathing, distrustful

  looks.

  I understood their fear and unease. How could you trust the same female