Greed (The Damning Book 1)

by Katie May

will.”

  I considered his words, the connotations of something so apparently

  simple. Free-will. Did anyone really have it? Did I have it?

  Sure, I could walk away at any time, but would that be the right decision?

  Would I be able to live with myself if I had the opportunity to change the

  world but chose not to? Morality, I realized, prohibited free-will.

  T nudged my shoulder with his, breaking me from my thoughts.

  “I actually came down here for a reason,” he said at last. “B wants to talk

  to you.”

  I groaned.

  B wouldn’t be expecting an answer. He already knew what my answer

  had to be. The world needed fighters, not cowards. I knew this. I honestly

  did.

  But the fear of death settled in my stomach heavily. Nodding in

  resignation, I followed T to B’s office. Each step forward was weighed down,

  my feet dragging against the stone hallway. A leaden, miserable feeling

  settled over me as I spotted B talking with Diego.

  The Mage smiled when he saw me.

  “Hey Hot Stuff,” he flirted. I glared.

  “I will kill you with a butter knife.”

  Diego grabbed his chest in mock-offense.

  “One day, Z, you will fall in love with me. One day.”

  “I’ll let HH know.”

  Diego blanched at the threat. HH was his mate, a cute human boy, and the

  reason Diego had joined the resistance in the first place.

  “Not that I’m not glad to see your sexy face,” I teased back. “But what

  are you doing here?”

  Diego turned towards B expectantly, and I did as well. T leaned against

  the back wall, arms crossed over his muscular chest.

  B’s face was grim as he dropped picture after picture onto his desk.

  “What…?”

  I trailed off, unable to tear my eyes away from the horrendous sight

  before me. A young girl, lower body mauled off as if she had been attacked

  by a bear.

  Or a Shifter.

  Two teenagers with their skin removed.

  A male with no eyes.

  A baby with-

  “Enough.” I swiped the pictures off the desk, watching as they fluttered to

  the floor. I took a calming breath as if that one small gesture could erase the

  images already tattooed into my brain. “Why did you show me that?”

  My stomach threatened to expel the contents of my dinner.

  “Those were the victims of your fellow competitors. You will be

  competing against murderers. Monsters. You, and only you, have a chance to

  end it all.” B slammed a fist onto his desk, and Diego startled beside me at

  the sound. “How can you not want to take a stand against such horrors?”

  I bristled at his implication.

  “You know I would do anything to rid the world of such disgusting

  creatures.” I glanced at Diego out of the corner of my eye. “No offense,

  Diego.”

  “None taken.”

  Turning back towards B, I straightened my shoulders imperiously. “I’m

  just not sure I’m ready to die yet.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Quit being so dramatic.”

  Dramatic?

  I was going to castrate him. Where was he when Vampires started a

  blood-trafficking trade? Where was he when the Mages decided to

  experiment new spells on runaways? Where was he whenever the Nightmares

  attacked?

  He was safe in his fucking office, that was where. Hiding. And he dared

  to call me dramatic? He dared to imply that I was a coward?

  Before I could threaten bodily harm, he continued on.

  “You fear that people will target you if they know you are human,

  correct?”

  I nodded mutely, too angry to speak.

  “Did you know that a couple of humans are chosen for The Damning

  each year it is put on?” he asked, moving around his desk gracefully. He

  leaned against the front, arms and ankles crossed. He was the epitome of

  calm...the epitome of everything I was not.

  “I didn’t know that,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  “They’re expecting humans to compete. It’s a part of the natural order of

  things. A way to determine who is higher up on the food chain. Being human

  is not an issue, for there is always at least one human disgusting enough to be

  chosen. Now, there is an issue with you being a female.” His voice was

  impassive, revealing nothing.

  “So what do you plan for me to do about that?” I snapped. And no, I

  wasn’t willing to do a sex-change. I rather liked my vagina, thank you very

  much.

  A small smirk pulled up B’s lips. He nodded towards Diego who eagerly

  procured a silver necklace.

  “Jewelry?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

  Diego gasped. “Not just jewelry you filthy whore. A spell.” He handed

  me the necklace enthusiastically, though I’m afraid I failed to reciprocate

  such an emotion. Holding the chain tentatively, I glanced at B, unsure of

  what he wanted me to do.

  “Have you never put on a necklace before?” Diego quipped. Without

  waiting for a response, he used one hand to hold up my hair while the other

  snapped the necklace into place. It felt heavy between my breasts.

  “Okay…?”

  “Press down,” Diego instructed.

  “On?”

  “The pendant, dumbass.”

  Rolling my eyes, I did as he said.

  I didn’t feel the change. I wouldn’t have even realized something had

  happened if I hadn’t caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

  A black cloak was now obscuring the curves of my body, the hood pulled

  up. My face was covered by a white, intricate mask. It was outlined by silver,

  two pinprick black dots in place of my eyes. I looked badass, yet I felt no

  different. I couldn’t feel the weight of the cloak, nor the sharp plastic of the

  mask digging into my face.

  I sucked in a breath as I considered the ethereal figure before me. My

  identity would remain a secret. Nobody would know that I was a female.

  And, if shit hit the fan, I could run.

  I could run, and no one would know who to look for.

  There was still fear, still stomach-curling terror, but now I felt something

  else as well. Something akin to hope.

  I could compete in The Damning. I could kill the monsters that plagued

  this earth. By eliminating the royal families, we might actually have a chance

  of winning this war. I could sneak into the Capital undetected. I could do this.

  “Only you can compete in The Damning. You killed Luca, and the magic

  transferred itself to you. This is your choice, Z, but I hope you make the right

  one.”

  B must’ve seen the decision in my posture, the sinking of my shoulders in

  resolution. A brilliant smile crossed his face.

  “That’s my girl. I knew you would make the right decision.”

  THREE

  Z

  Ifiddled with the hem of my dress wondering if I had somehow died and

  gone to hell. How did women wear these damn things? Didn’t they need

  to breathe?

  “Stop fidgeting,” Mali hissed. “You look great.”

  “You look sexy,” Diego corrected, flashing me a smile. “Sex on a stick

  type of sexy.”

  I flipped him off, turning to stare at the scenery
through the car window.

  The grassy fields slowly transformed into mountainous ranges; the car

  swiveled side to side as it attempted to maneuver through the horrendous

  landscape. My stomach churned and tightened as we made another sharp

  turn.

  “Fucking shit,” I muttered, squeezing my eyelids shut as if that could

  somehow quell the nausea.

  Definitely hell.

  “We’re going to be there soon,” Diego said, acknowledging my

  discomfort. He casually threw his arm around the back of my seat, squeezing

  my shoulder in the process.

  “Why can’t I push the button?” I moaned, absently caressing my

  beautiful, badass necklace that hung around my neck. Diego referred to it as

  the Ninja Transformation Button. I couldn’t help but agree with him.

  “We’ve been over this,” Mali said, yanking the steering wheel to the left.

  The movement propelled me into Diego’s warm body, and I placed my hand

  over his mouth before he could make another dirty joke. “You should only

  wear your Ninja Badass Costume when you’re competing. We need to be

  careful that people don’t draw targets on your back. Outside of the

  competition, you're Zara the maid. Not Z the assassin.”

  A tiny smirk pulled up my lips.

  “Ninja Badass Costume?” I teased. Mali’s cheeks flamed, and she

  reached behind the seat to swat at my knee.

  “Shut up.”

  The plan had been drilled into my head by B until I could practically

  spew it in my sleep. Each competitor was allowed three personal employees,

  called the Assistants. Mali and Diego were posing as my maid and driver,

  respectively. And me? The dress-wearing, non-badass me? I was some bimbo

  named Zara. I know. Awful.

  Z was the assassin.

  Zara was his caretaker.

  “But why a dress?” I whined, fidgeting. Mali cast me a look of disgust.

  She never understood my aversion towards dresses and jewelry. She was the

  type of female that would wear elaborate gowns and high-heels while

  relaxing around the house. Her closet held more clothes than both mine and

  Diego’s combined.

  “Because Zara wears dresses,” she stressed, reminding me of my alter-

  ego. I snorted.

  “Zara wants to punch you in the face.”

  “Zara needs to learn that threatening people isn’t always the best course

  of action,” she retorted. Before I could respond, Diego clamped his hand over

  my mouth. When I narrowed my eyes at him, he grinned sheepishly.

  “You talk too much darling.”

  In answer, I merely bit down on his palm.

  He cried out, instantly removing his hand from my face.

  “So savage,” he muttered, eyeing me darkly. I gave him a shit-eating grin.

  “Holy crap guys!” Mali squealed. Her attention diverted from the road to

  face the magnificent building resting in a steep decline. I cursed, whacking

  the back of her head.

  “Eyes on the road!”

  “But...shiny…” she cooed. I turned to face what had so thoroughly

  captured her attention.

  A large, golden mansion sat in a valley created by the mountains. From

  this distance, I could see nothing but a dozen or so pillars holding up a grand

  arcade and a wrought-iron fence. A soft glow emanated from the various

  windows running along the brick siding. A large body of water was adjacent

  to the building, no doubt hosting the visiting Mermaids.

  I heard rumors of this place. A place that no human has ever lived to tell

  about. A place where Nightmares lurked in broad daylight.

  A place where the Damning was held every five years.

  With my mouth agape, I allowed my eyes to roam over the Nightmare’s

  Capital. Directly between all seven kingdoms, this was considered the most

  important building in the entire world. All of the important Nightmares

  resided here, including Council Members and Royalty.

  The assassin in me began to fangirl.

  “You’re swooning,” Diego whispered, nudging my side. I reluctantly

  pulled my eyes off of the building to face him.

  “I don’t swoon.”

  “I’m pretty sure you just did.” He lifted a finger to touch the edge of my

  lip. “See? Drool.”

  “I’m not…” I rubbed at my mouth.

  Damn it. He was right.

  We pulled in front of wrought, iron gates, stopping the car in front of a

  small guard booth. A large man with broad shoulders and a shaved head

  ambled towards the driver’s window. One look, and I knew he was a Shifter.

  They were always freakishly large, regardless of what animal they

  transformed into. I heard a story about a 300 pound killer who shifted into a

  mouse.

  “Identification.” His voice was gravelly, unsurprising given his

  impressive stature.

  Mali turned towards him, flashing a singularly beautiful smile.

  “I’m Mali Estba. That is Diego Kenny. And back there is Zara Winters.”

  I blinked.

  Zara Winters.

  Zara. Fucking. Winters.

  Why did that name evoke images of baking cookies and dusting off

  shelves? It was most definitely not a name that an assassin like me should

  ever be associated with. I shuddered just hearing it.

  “Matching or Damning?” the guard asked. His eyes were penetrating as

  he surveyed the occupants of the car. When they rested on me, I met his stare

  with an imperious set to my chin.

  It suddenly occurred to me what he had said. I knew what The Damning

  was - everyone did - but I had never heard about The Matching.

  And what was up with these dumbass nicknames? Whoever was the event

  coordinator really needed to get fired. What was next? The Eating? The

  Talking? The Stabbing?

  On second thought, The Stabbing did have a nice ring to it.

  “The Damning,” Mali said without missing a beat. “We’re the Personal

  Assistants of Z.” She flashed him the invitation, and he quickly scanned it,

  confirming its authenticity.

  “Personal Assistants, huh?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Nobody

  could miss the suggestiveness in his voice. I shouldn’t have been surprised. B

  had warned me that people would assume we were the lovers of Z - that was

  what all the Assistants were. Hired lovers.

  So he was pretty much insinuating that I would be considered the lover

  of...myself. Not a horrible lover, as lovers could go, but there was only so

  much a finger could do before it got repetitive.

  Diego, beside me, began to chuckle, no doubt coming to the same

  conclusion I had. Sick, perverted bastard.

  “Where is Z?” the guard asked, searching the car once more. His eyes

  zeroed in on Diego and narrowed.

  Of course he would assume it was the guy.

  Fucking Shifters.

  “Z doesn’t like to show his face,” Mali lied smoothly. The Shifter’s

  nostrils flared, and I knew what he was doing. Sniffing for a lie. There was a

  lot of things Shifters could sniff - heightened emotions, smells miles away,

  sweat glands when one began to lie. Would they be able to smell every fart

  that had ever existed?

  My mind turned over this newfound information.

  How did one separat
e the farts from all of the other smells? Was it just a

  constant background smell that they had to get used to? Could a Shifter die

  because of a fart?

  Could a-

  “Zara,” Diego snapped, elbowing my stomach. “Where did your mind

  go?”

  I shrugged. “Farts.”

  Diego glanced at me oddly. “You really are a psycho bitch, aren’t you?”

  I chose not to respond to that rather fitting statement, turning back

  towards the window instead.

  We had pulled away from the guard booth and up a paved driveway that

  circled around a marble statue. The opulence of both the building and the

  yard was almost nauseating.

  There were no other cars when we arrived in front of large, glass doors,

  though I wasn’t surprised. B had wanted us to arrive early to scope the place

  out.

  A wicked smile turned up my lips.

  As long as I could kill some Nightmares, this entire shit show would be

  worth it.

  FOUR

  KILLIAN

  Ilistened to the satiated moans, muffled through the closed door. Around

  me, women and men alike ambled through the brothel’s halls. Drunk -

  both from alcohol and pleasure.

  I watched a particularly dazed woman leave one of the many bedrooms

  adorning the hall. She was completely naked, her breasts covered in bites and

  bruises. A man immediately followed behind her, face carved from marble

  and red hair neatly trimmed.

  Vampire.

  Upon seeing me, the woman made an immediate beeline in my direction.

  I blanched, attempting to disappear into the wall. What I wouldn’t have given

  to be a Shadow at that moment. The Vampire glared at me, grabbing the

  woman’s arm and pulling her back towards the bedroom. I heard the

  woman’s sigh of pleasure.

  Lust. Pleasure.

  I breathed it all in. Immediately, my fatigued body thrummed with

  unsuppressed energy. I felt as if I could run for miles.

  The couple behind the door I was sitting in front of let out loud, ear-

  splitting screams. The power from their shared orgasm breathed life into me.

  I knew color was returning to my cheeks, and my hair, which had been

  greasy and disheveled, began to shine as if it had a garnet sheen.

  Feeling immensely satisfied, I picked myself up from the floor and

  headed towards the entrance of the brothel.

  Madame Delong, an aging woman and the owner of such an

  establishment, regarded me from where she was perched behind a wooden