Greed (The Damning Book 1)

by Katie May

  A purr.

  The giant man was purring?

  My fight or flight response must’ve been broken, for it added on a new

  choice to the equation: fuck. And right then, my body really wanted to do just

  that. With a giant, purring, murderous Shifter.

  “What is actually happening right now?” I asked in exasperation. I was no

  longer scared. That emotion had diminished the second my heart rate decided

  to settle back into a normal rhythm. If anything, I was annoyed.

  Lupe straightened suddenly, eyes narrowing on my face and full lips

  parting.

  Before he could say anything, the door to the ballroom opened and

  closed. I heard the patter of footsteps, but I refused to break eye-contact with

  Lupe. The air around us seemed to practically shimmer with electricity.

  “Zara Winters!” Mrs. Grinshaw snapped. “You’re not supposed to be

  here!”

  “Well no shit!” I quipped before I could stop myself. I finally broke free

  of Lupe’s penetrating gaze, looking over his broad shoulder at the older

  woman. Mali was standing beside her, expression wary. “I tried to tell you-”

  “Leave!” She pointed a finger towards the doorway, and I let out a breath

  of relief. Without giving her the chance to change her mind, I hurried towards

  where Mali was waiting for me.

  “Thank god,” I whispered to my friend, linking my arm with hers.

  “How the hell did you end up in The Matching?” she asked, voice barely

  containing her laughter.

  “Don’t ask.”

  Despite the eyes I could feel on my back, I kept my gaze forward. I had a

  competition I needed to focus on.

  And I had some princes I needed to kill.

  SEVEN

  Z

  The sky was gray as I stepped into the grassy clearing the next

  morning, the large clouds threatening rain. My black cloak swooshed

  around my feet with each step I took, though I barely processed it.

  Diego had done his spell well; I couldn’t even feel the mask obscuring my

  face, let alone my heavy clothing. If anything, it felt like an extension of my

  body. I still couldn’t get over the fact that Diego had created this spell. Diego.

  He must’ve really loved me for taking the time to create such an intricate

  design when I knew he would rather sit on the couch and waste the day away.

  My bow and arrow were slung over my shoulder, and I kept three daggers

  on my person - one on each leg and one on my hip. I had wanted to bring my

  machete, but Mali had insisted that it was overkill.

  After a long argument, I had eventually conceded. What she didn’t know,

  however, was that Diego had masked my machete so it hung from the

  shoulder opposite of my bow, utterly invisible. I still felt the weight, but the

  weapon itself remained unseen.

  Thank you, Diego.

  I wasn’t the first to arrive at the clearing, but I also wasn’t the last. My

  timing was, as always, impeccable. It was ingrained within me that I had to

  be like my machete: invisible. It was crucial for my survival.

  I got a few glances when I arrived, no doubt for my badass getup, but

  nobody commented on the fact that I was a female or a human. Once again,

  Diego had saved my ass.

  I nonchalantly spun a dagger through my fingers, being extra cautious not

  to do anything too amazing. If I were to win, I had to be in the middle of the

  pack, at least at first. The top competitors would turn on one another near the

  beginning stages of The Damning as well as eliminate those they deemed as

  “easy” or “vulnerable”. It was vital that I didn’t fall into either one of those

  categories.

  I looked at the various men spread out along the clearing. And that was

  what they all were. Men.

  A few had their feet dipped inside the adjacent lake. Mermaids, no doubt,

  attempting to get every last drop of power the water was willing to give them.

  Some of the men were large, the size of tree trunks, while others were

  small and wiry, almost sinewy, in appearance. Still, I knew not to be fooled

  by their less-than-impressive physiques.

  One guy in particular caught my attention. He was tall and lightly

  muscled, nothing extraordinary compared to the immense beast of a man

  beside him. Despite his skinny frame, there were numerous scars adorning his

  face, as if he had fought more battles than I could comprehend. His eyes were

  cold, devoid of emotion. It wasn’t like the indolent expression Lupe had worn

  earlier. It wasn’t an impassive mask one would use to hide their true selves

  away from the world. This man just looked dead, a mannequin with painted

  on eyes and lips.

  It was unnerving.

  Another man stood a little bit away, watching the competitors with an

  amused tilt to his lips. He had blond hair nearly down to his ankles, and his

  violet eyes glowed. Only one species had violet eyes

  Genies.

  The devils themselves.

  I hated him immediately.

  That point was only reinforced when he spoke.

  “Is this everybody competing? There’s no pussy?”

  The rest of the men jeered and laughed, and I mentally added each and

  every one of them to my shit list. Okay, maybe shit list was the wrong word. I

  preferred to call it my kill list, as in, I was going to kill every last one of

  them. Painfully. And with a variety of weapons.

  I flipped through all of the information I had received from B on all of the

  competitors. The man with the dead eyes was named Zack. From what I

  knew about him, he made me ashamed to have a Z name. A serial killer, he

  was recently released from prison for the sole purpose of this competition. He

  didn’t have empathy nor did he have a moral compass, though I supposed

  you could argue those were one and the same. Either way, he would be a

  deadly foe.

  The giant of a man beside him, with a shaved head and numerous tattoos,

  was Griffin. A Shifter and a renowned rapist. Like Zack, he was recently

  released from prison.

  The blond Genie was named Sammy. It was such an innocent name,

  completely in contrast to the horrendous crimes I knew Sammy committed.

  He had convinced a high-up political figure, Geneive, to eradicate every

  human in her territory, as if we were a disease. And that was how the humans

  died - with diseases wished for by Geneive and granted by Sammy.

  My stomach churned, and my hands curled into claws. I wanted nothing

  more than to run at those monsters and stab them with one of my many

  daggers.

  In time, I told myself. Karma was a bitch.

  An imposing man with graying hair and broad shoulders stepped onto a

  small stage set up near the center of the field. He wore a black robe with a

  blood red hood, indicating him as a delegate, if not the head delegate, of the

  Vampires.

  “Good evening.” His voice was as icy as his features. His lips were curled

  downwards, as if he was disgusted by the sight before him. For the first time,

  I couldn’t blame him. “Welcome to The Damning.”

  Hoots and cheers erupted from the masses, and I resisted the urge to roll

  my eyes. Did they not realize that all of us, but one, we
re going to die? I sure

  as hell realized that. My death was imminent, as was theirs. I could only hope

  I went down fighting.

  “Every five years, we have The Damning to select our new assassin and

  torturer.”

  Oh joy.

  Though my thought was sarcastic, the enthusiastic cheer that emitted

  from the crowd was very much sincere. I was surrounded by a bunch of

  psychopaths, all intent on being the last man standing. Fun. Fun.

  “There will be one competition, one trial, one chance to prove yourself as

  the most worthy. The pride and joy of the Kingdoms.”

  Way to butter up the crowd.

  “The competition is simple: a fight to the death. In a span of two months,

  all but one competitor must be dead. The remaining man will receive fortunes

  beyond his wildest dreams and a chance to serve his kingdom.”

  The crowd began to murmur amongst one another. I saw a set of twins

  exchange careful, calculated glances.

  “Now I know what some of you are thinking. The easiest solution, and

  consequently the safest, would be to hide away like cowards. I would like to

  inform you that one of the requirements of being the winner is having five

  kills yourself. No outside help.”

  He allowed that to sink in, cold eyes roaming over each face in the crowd.

  He paused when his eyes rested on me, and even from this distance, I could

  see his brow quirk. Just as quickly, his expression smoothed over to be

  replaced with indifference.

  “Five kills. Two months. Last one standing, wins. All competitors are

  required to stay at the Capital until The Damning ends. Are there any

  questions?”

  This felt more like a damn lecture at school than a fight-to-the-death

  announcement.

  The silence in the field was suddenly pronounced. Charged, almost, as if

  an electrical current was running rampant through the air. I felt myself shift

  from one foot to the other, searching for any person that moved too quickly,

  moved too suddenly. I may be fated to die, but I wasn’t ready to die yet. Give

  it a few weeks.

  “No questions? Then I would like to formally declare that The Damning

  has commenced!”

  The cheers from the crowd were sudden and roaring. My hands were

  clammy by my sides. Two words echoed through my head, over and over

  again like a song on repeat.

  Fuck me.

  Before I could even move, a dagger flew through the air, landing directly

  in Sammy’s forehead. The Genie’s eyes glazed over, mouth parting as if he

  was preparing to scream, before he crumpled to the ground.

  I froze, staring at the body only a few feet away from me. Blood coated

  the ground, as bright as the Vampire’s cloak. He was dead. The legendary

  Sammy was dead, brought down by a simple knife to the head.

  In the distance, eyes cold as he surveyed the body, was Zack. Without a

  word, he grabbed the dagger from Sammy’s body and wiped the blood on his

  pants.

  “One down. Ninety-eight to go.”

  EIGHT

  Z

  Iwas attacked approximately two times on the way back to my bedroom.

  The first one was in the form of a dagger, nicking my ear as it flew

  through the air and impaled itself into the wall. I immediately went on

  alert, surveying the halls for the source. The only indication that someone had

  been near was a flash of blue from the now opened window.

  The coward had left. He hadn’t even been willing to face me. At least, I

  thought, slightly sardonically, he had poor aim.

  The second attack consisted of two Shifters cornering me in the hallway.

  After I rendered one of the men unconscious, the other had changed his focus

  and had ripped the throat out of his fallen comrade.

  Apparently, not even alliances were sacred in this game.

  By the time I was back in my room, my hair was disheveled and Shifter

  blood coated my clothes. Diego and Mali both glanced up from where they

  were chatting on my bed. Diego was only wearing a towel - that asshole had

  used my shower. Mine. If he used all of the hot water, I was going to castrate

  him.

  “What the hell happened?” Mali screeched, running towards me. Her

  nostrils flared as she took in the splotches of blood, and relief was evident in

  her sagging body when she concluded that the blood wasn’t mine. “What

  happened?”

  “I take it that The Damning didn’t go well?” Diego drawled lethargically.

  He sprawled out on my bed, still dressed in only a towel, and propped

  himself up on his elbows.

  “Wow. You don’t fucking say,” I quipped.

  I really needed a shower.

  Pressing the button on my necklace, the disguise disappeared leaving only

  “Zara” in a white, blood-stained dress and messy blond ringlets.

  Unfortunately, Diego’s spell didn’t magically cleanse me of all the blood.

  Shame. That would’ve been handy. And hugely profitable.

  Maybe I could convince Diego to invest in an assassin/serial-killer store. I

  could see the tagline now: BLOOD BE GONE!

  Smiling wickedly, I stripped out of my dress until I was standing in the

  center of the room, naked. Neither Mali nor Diego even blinked. That was a

  surprise. Usually, Diego would’ve taken this opportunity to make a remark

  about my sexy, but emotionally unavailable, body. He must’ve really been

  worried. I summarized the events of the day.

  “The Damning is a fight to the death. Two months. Five kills required.

  Fun times.”

  “We need to leave,” Mali said suddenly. She anxiously chewed on her

  bottom lip, teeth sharpening into keen points as it always did when she

  experienced a heightened emotion.

  “We can’t leave.”

  Walking into the bathroom, I absently scanned the toiletries provided. I

  needed body wash, shampoo, and a nice razor. If I was going to die, I’d be

  damned if I died hairy.

  “Then you can only be Zara. Not Z. Never Z,” she proclaimed, following

  me into the bathroom. Her voice gained more conviction as she spoke. I eyed

  her, grabbing a fluffy white towel and a delicious smelling bottle of shampoo.

  It was a shampoo designed specifically for men, but I wasn’t going to be

  picky. Anything was better than the sweet aroma of copper.

  “These competitors are monsters, and they have to be stopped,” I

  reasoned. Without looking back at her, I fiddled with one of the many dials in

  the shower. Warm water immediately rained down, and I smiled contently.

  Stepping fully into the small box, I allowed the water to cascade over my

  skin. It felt wonderful. Almost better than sex.

  Almost.

  And ten times better than shower sex. I never understood that appeal. For

  one, it was difficult to find a shower large enough to fit both persons

  participating in such an...activity. Secondly, there was this little thing called

  “height difference” that was often overlooked. Men failed to realize that they

  had to aim lower than they anticipated. And don’t even get me started on the

  slippery floors.

  “Are you even listening?” Mali’s voice bordered on a scream, as if she

  couldn’t d
ecide if she wanted to be angry or amused.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” I said. “And I know what the risks of

  staying are. I know that there’s a good chance that I’m going to die. And you

  know what? I’m okay with that. If I die, I don’t want it to be fucking

  passively. I want to...I don’t...okay, look. I want to make a difference, and not

  just build a shitty home for the poor type of difference. I want lives to be

  saved. I want the world to be better because, let’s face it, the world currently

  sucks ass. I want...look, this world is full of monsters. To some, I might even

  be considered one. And I’m okay with that. Humans are a dying breed, and I

  want us to survive and…I don’t even know what I’m saying. Ignore me.”

  Some people were capable of giving eloquent speeches at the snap of a

  finger, but they were far and few between. Realistically? People were

  blubbering messes. I couldn’t even tell you what I had just said let alone if it

  made any sense.

  The silence was almost stifling. It was Mali who broke it first, voice terse.

  “Fine. I’m going to message B and let him know the plan. Will you two

  be good here alone?”

  “Don’t worry. I can protect Diego,” I teased. I heard him make a rather

  unflattering remark.

  “Rude,” he hissed.

  “True,” Mali and I both pointed out. I heard rather than saw my bedroom

  door open and close once again.

  “You know,” Diego began conversationally once Mali had left. “She’s

  only worried because she cares.”

  “I realize that.” I tilted my head back, water pelting my face. “But she

  does understand my job description, right? People like me don’t have long

  lifespans.”

  “Don’t say that.” His voice was as serious as I had ever heard it.

  “It’s true. I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed on.”

  “You didn’t sign your fucking death certificate, Z. Stop thinking like

  that,” he snapped. Turning my head, I could see his silhouette through the

  foggy shower screen, pacing across my bedroom floor in irritation.

  “I’m an assassin Diego. It’s a kill or be killed type of world.”

  He would never understand. Not only was he not human - not a species so

  low on the totem pole that we were considered scum - but he also wasn’t an

  assassin. Extensive training had to be undertaken before you could be