Sloth (The Damning Book 4)

by Katie May

  and his malevolent friends, the former option was more their style. They saw

  all of us as only pieces on a game board, and they wouldn’t hesitate to move

  Z like a marionette into enemy territory.

  “If you’re going to torture me, get it over with,” the shadow king—Seth

  —said in an indolent manner. He nestled himself further against the wall and

  squeezed his eyelids shut, adopting a pose of nonchalance and innocence.

  “I’m not telling you shit.”

  “But it’s true you worked with the Alphabet Resistance?” Lupe hedged,

  but Seth simply pantomimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.

  I stared intently at the shadow king, almost as if I could will him to reveal

  all of his secrets, before sighing heavily and grabbing Lupe’s arm. The large

  man didn’t struggle as I dragged him away from the cell, with its pungent

  smell and steel bars, towards the opposite end of the hall, near the candle.

  “We can’t torture him,” Lupe hissed in revulsion. “I won’t. Not again.”

  I knew he was no doubt thinking of T—Z’s friend and a member of the

  resistance, whom he’d been forced to get information out of. We’d left T

  back at the inn with the other human servants, but I knew it haunted Lupe

  whenever he saw his mottled, bruised face and the scar on his cheek that

  would never quite heal properly.

  “He won’t tell us anything,” I warned, glancing over my shoulder in the

  direction of Seth’s cell. Fuck, it felt weird to call him that. His title, the King

  of the Shadows, evoked images of wealth and power. Seth made me think of

  the pathetic, beaten man rotting away in a cell miles beneath the capital. “I

  don’t know what to do here, Lupe. The kings own Z, and if we don’t do what

  they say, I have no doubt they’ll hurt her to hurt us. But she’ll never forgive

  us if we give over information about the Alphabet Resistance to the kings.

  And that’s assuming the shadow king tells us in the first place. Plus, how the

  fuck do we explain all of this to Ryland?”

  As I was speaking, articulating the numerous thoughts running rampant

  through my head, Lupe’s expression changed and tightened, shock giving

  way to resolve, and then that resolve transforming into unreadability. Before I

  could question his behavior, he placed a large hand on my shoulder and gave

  it a squeeze.

  “I’ll handle this for us,” he vowed, his tone solemn.

  “Lupe…” I eyed my best friend warily. “What are you going to do?”

  Lupe ducked his head until his blue eyes met my violet ones. There were

  lines around his eyes and mouth, lines that I’d never noticed before. It gave

  him a haggard look, almost as if he’d aged years in seconds, and I couldn’t

  help but note the similarities between him and his father.

  They really did look similar.

  But I couldn’t argue with him and whatever decision he’d apparently

  made, not when Z’s life was on the line. Not when I would make the same

  decision as well.

  I hated that Lupe was embracing his wrath, embracing the beast he’d

  struggled for years to contain, but we didn’t have a fucking choice.

  We never had a choice.

  We were born in sin, and we’d die in sin. It was the way the world

  worked.

  So instead of mounting a protest, I nodded stiffly, straightened out my

  cuffs, and then climbed the long staircase out of the basement, leaving my

  brother alone to face his demons.

  What was happening to us?

  In our quest to stop our fathers…were we becoming even bigger monsters

  than them?

  I DIDN’T MAKE IT TOO FAR BEFORE I WAS BOMBARDED BY A SICKLY SWEET

  perfume. My nose wrinkled in distaste a second before a tiny body practically

  plowed me over, her arms wrapping around my waist and constricting like a

  boa.

  “Devlin! I haven’t seen you in forever. I’ve been worried.” I detangled

  myself from the brown-haired genie with a grunt of disgust.

  “Laurel,” I said curtly, staring into her violet eyes a few shades darker

  than my own. She smiled widely, revealing a single dimple in her right

  cheek, and brought a hand to my wrist. I automatically stepped away with a

  grimace, hating her touch on my skin, but that only seemed to broaden her

  smile.

  Some might have considered her pretty, with her curly brown hair, an

  hourglass figure, and long lashes that curled slightly. But she didn’t hold a

  candle to Z, a fact that would infuriate her if it came to light.

  “You’re a tough man to get a hold of, Devlin Genie,” she purred as

  something ugly and slimy lodged itself in my throat.

  Weeks ago, I made a deal with Laurel to find my stolen lamp and have it

  returned to me. At the time, I’d believed it housed the soul of Z’s ex-

  boyfriend, S, but someone had stolen the soul before I could retrieve it. It all

  proved to be a complete fucking waste of time, but because I’d wished on

  Laurel’s lamp, I owed her a favor.

  Or my soul.

  And it seemed she had come to collect.

  “What do you want, Laurel?” I bit out. I was desperate to get away from

  her, to get away from it all. I wanted to scrub at my skin in my shower,

  eliminating days of filth that clung to every bare inch of me. And then I

  wanted to find my favorite black suit, put it on, and fall back into a role of

  familiarity, one where my life wasn’t rapidly steering itself towards a brick

  wall. One where I could take control of my surroundings once more, instead

  of relying on chance and circumstance—two words I abhorred.

  “You owe me, Devlin.” Her hand moved to my chest, her fingers splayed

  just above my heart, before she lowered it to my stomach. The path she took

  was slow and torturous, and every muscle in my body locked together. I held

  myself perfectly still as her fingers touched the waistband of my pants, but

  before she could dip them inside, I grabbed her wrist and gave it a punishing

  squeeze.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed out, horror and disgust percolating in my

  stomach like days old milk. If she forced me to touch her…

  I would rather die.

  Laurel pouted, fluttering her long lashes up at me as if she thought she

  had even the smallest chance in hell of seducing me. “You don’t want me

  touching you, Dev? You don’t want me to wrap my lips around your cock?”

  She wrenched her hand free and placed it on my cock before I could stop her,

  rubbing me through the material of my pants. I was about as hard as a limp

  noodle, and she knew it.

  The only touch my body ever responded to was that of my mate.

  “Don’t.” I grabbed her wrist once more. “Touch.” I squeezed until her

  face scrunched together in pain. “Me.” Releasing her, I gave her a tiny shove

  that had her stumbling back a few steps.

  But instead of appearing indignant or even upset, she simply threw her

  head back and began to laugh.

  “Oh, Devlin. I missed our verbal sparring. Haven’t you?”

  “I’ll kill you before I’ll ever allow you to lay a hand on me,” I warned her

  vehemently. I didn’t care what my father would do to me. This bitch wasn�
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  going to get a single piece of me, no matter the deal.

  “Relax, firecracker.” She quirked her lips up and sashayed back towards

  me, standing until we were chest to chest. She bit her bottom lip as she

  peered up at me, one of her hands moving to her cleavage and tracing the

  skin there.

  “Not. Happening,” I hissed, and she released another breathy laugh,

  finally stepping away.

  “All right. Fortunately for you and your flaccid dick, I don’t want that

  from you.” She began to circle me like a vulture studying its prey. Her eyes

  were just as predatorial as that damn bird.

  “Then what do you want?” I growled out.

  She paused when she was in front of me once more, but this time, she

  kept a respectable distance between us. She placed her hands on her hips and

  tilted her head back, her lips twisting into a scowl.

  “I need you to break someone out of the palace’s dungeons for me.”

  “What?” I balked, staggering back a step in disbelief. “You want me to

  free the shadow king?” That was a death sentence if I ever heard one. If the

  kings discovered we helped him escape…

  It would be very, very bad.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not him. The other prisoner.”

  “The other…prisoner?” I cocked an eyebrow, trying to remember who

  else had been down there with Seth, Lupe, and me. I couldn’t recall any of

  the other cells being occupied, but that wasn’t to say they weren’t. It was a

  big fucking prison, and there were still two more hallways with more cells

  than I could count.

  “A shifter,” she clarified. “Cell G.” Something soft touched her features

  as she gazed at something over my shoulder.

  What the…?

  Understand washed over me. “You love him,” I stated in wonderment.

  The softness faded, replaced by something hard and dangerous. “Your job

  isn’t to ask questions,” she hissed out. “Your job is to do what I say. Once

  you complete this, your debt to me will be fulfilled.”

  She turned on her heel, preparing to walk away, but I called after her.

  “What did he do?” A perplexed expression knitted her eyebrows together, so

  I rushed to elaborate. “What did he do to end up in the dungeon?”

  “Oh.” A cunning smirk pulled up her ruby-red lips as her gaze turned

  faraway and distant yet again. When she finally came back to the present, her

  eyes were hyper focused, but her smile remained just as cruel. “Nothing you

  need to worry about. Just get him out, and we’ll be even. Got it?”

  Nothing you need to worry about.

  This was a horrible fucking idea, yet I knew I had no choice. I had to free

  this mysterious prisoner from the capital’s prison or my soul would belong to

  Laurel.

  Now, how to do that…

  I couldn’t very well walk in and use my cunning to break him out. And I

  couldn’t have Lupe wish for his escape either, not when my father would be

  able to see our contract if he so desired.

  Which meant…

  Which meant I had to ask my father for his help. Which meant I had to

  play the dutiful son he’d always wanted me to be. Which meant I had to

  move myself on the game board away from Z and towards the kings.

  My nails dug into my palms hard enough to break skin as I moved farther

  down the hall, bypassing the throne room and ballroom until I reached my

  bedroom. Once inside, I locked the door, turned on my shower, stripped

  down, and then scrubbed my body raw. My skin was a bright red by the time

  I finally pulled myself out from beneath the spray and dressed in a pitch-

  black suit with white cufflinks. I combed my brown curls back and completed

  the look with a plum-colored tie.

  Control.

  You need control.

  I thought of Z the last time I saw her, unconscious and in pain, and my

  heart gave a damning squeeze, even as my expression turned stoic.

  For her, I would become the thing I hated.

  For her, I would embrace the monster inside of me.

  For her, I would be the Crowned Prince of the Genies.

  I straightened my violet tie, checked my reflection once more in the

  mirror, and then stalked out of my room with an imperious set to my chin.

  Servants and nightmares alike got out of my way as I walked, their eyes

  widening in fear and awe. It was the same look they wore around my father

  and the rest of the kings.

  The only way to free a prisoner and not be deemed a traitor was to have

  an official pardon from one of the kings. Which meant I needed a favor from

  my father. Which meant…

  Which meant I was selling my soul to a different genie.

  Pushing open the heavy oak doors to the throne room, I found the kings

  exactly where I’d left them, whispering amongst themselves. Their silence

  was instant when they caught sight of me, and I noticed my father straighten

  imperceptibly in his throne, as meticulously groomed as always.

  “Devlin?” he demanded. “What’s the meaning of all of this?”

  I clasped my hands behind my back and pushed my chest out, meeting

  each of their gazes unflinchingly.

  “Why, I thought it was obvious?” Bile burned in my mouth, but I shoved

  it back down. “I’m here to embrace my duties as the crowned prince.” I

  paused, allowing that revelation to sink in. Unlike my brothers, I hadn’t ever

  openly defied my father, but I knew he saw the rebellious streak in me.

  Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for what I needed to do. “How can I

  serve you, Father?”

  SEVENTEEN

  Z

  My peaceful sleep was interrupted by the barely audible sound of

  the van door opening. My eyes shot open, and I tensed where I

  lay between Killian and Ryland in the backseat of the vehicle,

  all of the seats pushed down to make room for the blankets and pillows we

  borrowed from the humans. Jax and Bash had chosen to stay inside Paco’s

  shed and help him finish the potions. Hopefully, I’d be able to take the elixirs

  tomorrow and finish it once and for all. Either I’d die…or I’d live to fight

  another day. I was hoping for the latter, thank you very much. Since Dair was

  still in the lake, and I knew he had no intentions of coming back tonight…

  that meant the figure peering in at us was not one of my mates.

  I wrapped my hand around the hilt of my blade, barely breathing as the

  figure inched closer and closer and then rested their hand on my ankle.

  I jerked upright, Ryland’s arm falling from my waist and Killian’s hand

  leaving my own as he murmured something sleepily. I didn’t pay them a

  glance, though, as I leapt forward and tackled the intruder, the momentum

  forcing me out of the car and onto his body on the pavement.

  “Motherfucker!” the man rasped, and I peered down at him intently, my

  blade pressed to his throat. He appeared to be a human a few years older than

  me, with sandy-blond hair, deeply tan skin, and blue eyes that were as dark as

  pitch in the firelight. His face was creased in horror and pain as I jabbed my

  knee into his stomach. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “Why were you spying on me?” I demanded, pressing both my knee and
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  knife further into his skin simultaneously. He wheezed but didn’t even try to

  fight me off. He was either the stupidest man I’d ever met…or the smartest.

  The verdict was still out on that one.

  “I wasn’t…” He blinked rapidly up at me. “I just wanted your help!” The

  last words were almost a shout, though he quickly clamped his mouth shut

  and flushed bright when I gaped at him.

  “Help?” I quirked an eyebrow, removing my blade from his skin slightly

  so he could nod.

  “Yes. I know my girlfriend, Natalia, talked to you earlier. About her

  sister?” he pressed, and it took me a moment to remember who he was

  talking about. Natalia must’ve been the girl I’d met in the woods, the one

  whose sister was a prostitute at… What was the name of that place again?

  Lazy Evenings?

  “And you want me to free Natalia’s sister,” I finished for him, my lips

  pursed ever so slightly. I wanted to help them more than anything, but I was

  weak and so very, very tired. If they wouldn’t accept help from my mates,

  then I didn’t know what we could do. We were at a stalemate, plain and

  simple, and one of us would have to bend.

  But the stranger’s next words send a jolt of pure ice zigzagging through

  my veins. “No.” He once again shook his head, not seeming to care that his

  shaggy blond hair collected debris and dirt from the ground. “I want you to

  help me save my girlfriend.”

  “Your—?’

  “Natalia went after her sister, Ali,” he admitted. “I told her she shouldn’t,

  I told her not to be stupid, I told her that we needed backup, but she was

  fucking insane. She left a few hours ago and promised to message me every

  thirty minutes.” He moved his hand down his body, towards his pocket, and I

  tensed automatically. But he seemed unconcerned with how close he came to

  death as he removed a cracked tablet from his pocket and held it out to me.

  It wasn’t password protected—stupid—and I was easily able to see the

  messages between this stranger and the woman named Natalia. When she

  first left about six hours ago, she would message him every thirty minutes on

  the dot.

  But there hadn’t been a new message in over two hours.

  Fuck.

  Guilt bombarded me, slashing at my chest, and the grip I had on the knife

  faltered. I dropped the hand holding it back to my side completely before it