by May Dawson
Revenge
House of Nephilim
May Dawson
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Books in the Wicked Reform School World
Also by May Dawson
A Note from May
I. Their Shifter Princess
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter One
It took me quite a while to decide how I wanted to be arrested.
In the end, I fumbled a heist on purpose. That was painful. I don’t like doing stupid things, as long as you don’t count stupid things with six-pack abs and pretty eyes like Everett Kane.
Look at me. I just told you the name of one of my psycho exes before I even told you my name. I guess he was right when he said I’d never get over him.
He’s about to learn just how much I’ve never gotten over him.
He’ll feel so smug—except for the knife at his throat.
But for now, Everett Kane and the other Lords of Havoc have no idea that death is coming for them.
For now, all I am is a girl kneeling on the ground as the cops shout at her, laying down on the slick, cold linoleum floor of a jewelry store.
For now, I’m Eden Greyson, the girl who shouldn’t even be alive.
Tomorrow? I’ll be Revenge.
From the moment I let myself be caught, it all goes the way I expect, more or less.
When the cops realize I’m a Nephilim, they look like they’ve been scalded by being so close to me. Someone shoots me, twice, even though I don’t even move from the floor. Then twitchy, frightened cops put cuffs on me and drag me out to the car, leaving a trail of blue blood across the linoleum.
Even with the cuffs, I’m healing by the time they push me into the back of the windowless truck and slam it shut. The walls and door are reinforced and charmed, but I doubt they would hold me if I were at full-power. They wouldn’t hold me if I wanted to escape.
But I don’t want to escape.
I smile a bloody smile, knowing I’m exactly where I want to be.
The truck never stops. Late that night, the engine’s downshifting wakes me from a half-daze that counts as close enough to sleep.
The doors open to blaring lights that blind me. I roll away from them, gazing up at the ceiling of the truck, since my hands are cuffed and I have no way of shielding my eyes.
“They shot her, really?” A man’s voice, low and honeyed even though he’s furious, rumbles through the night. “Good grief. She’s never hurt anyone.”
Oh, that’s not exactly accurate.
The light moves away, thankfully. I blink as I turn my gaze into the darkness, searching for the first glimpse of my new home and what might very well be my cemetery.
“Get out here,” the same voice orders. “I know those cuffs don’t matter to you.”
“I was trying to look harmless for the sake of the humans.” I meet the gaze of a man who stands at the edge of the truck. He’s ridiculously handsome, all sharp-angled cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass, tall and built, his black hair close-cropped.
He’s so handsome, he must be one of us.
His eyes are a deep chocolate brown, flecked with amber. I know him. It just took me time to recognize him; the only other time I met Gabriel Bright, I was in a hospital bed.
“Let’s go,” he says. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
“I don’t like being shot, so I guess we’re all having rough days.” As I roll to a sitting position, I strain my wrists apart behind me. I flex my shoulders so hard I fear my wings might accidentally pop out.
That would be embarrassing—there’s nothing so shameful as a Nephilim’s sad wings.
The cuffs pop apart, and I rise easily to my feet. It doesn’t matter that I’m sore and aching from lying on the cold floor of the truck all night. Nephilim don’t show weakness.
I reach the edge of the truck’s bed and glance around at the dark campus. The truck is parked inside a set of high, wicked gates, and beyond Gabriel and the searchlights, a dozen guards with guns watch me.
“Seems like overkill,” I mutter before I jump down. Someone in the crowd tenses, but luckily, no one shoots me this time.
“Well, people like us require a lot of killing,” he answers me. He holds out his hand. “But only if we can’t be redeemed.”
I stare at him, lifting my chin defiantly.
He doesn’t lower his hand. “Gabriel Bright. I’m the assistant head of the Nephilim house.”
“We already know each other.” I flash him a smile. “We’ve met before. Remember?”
He’d know my name anyway. I’ve been wanted since I was fourteen.
He nods, acknowledging what I’ve just said. “I’m about to let them shoot you again and drag you to your room. Use some manners, please.”
I heave a sigh and reach to shake his hand. “Eden Greyson. So very nice to meet you again, sir. Happy to be here.”
“Mm.” He studies me curiously. “It’s interesting they finally managed to bring you in.”
I shrug. “I guess I got sloppy.”
He nods slowly. “I’ll be watching you, Eden.”
“That seems like your job, doesn’t it?” I return. I glance past the guards with their guns and watchful faces, taking in the campus. It looks beautiful and serene—what a lie, given that this school is inhabited by juvenile scum from every paranormal breed.
“You’ll find your school uniforms in your room. In the morning, you’ll meet with the dean of discipline, then begin classes,” he tells me. “I’m assigning a student guide. He will meet you in the morning in your room.”
“Fantastic. Can’t wait.”
Gabriel Bright pauses, his face troubled. “A positive attitude and a willingness to reconsider your ways will go a long way here, Eden. You could do great things for the world.”
“I know you think I’m being a smartass,” I say, “but I do, in fact, have a positive attitude.”
I’m going to do great things for the world.
I’m going to kill the last of the Lords of Havoc.
Chapter Two
Everett Kane
If not for the fact I wanted to survive
the Killing, I would’ve told Gabriel Bright to fuck right off when he said the name Eden Greyson.
As it was, I came down sixty-forty on surviving versus facing my ex-girlfriend.
“You know the two of us have a history,” I say, staring at him as he stands in the doorway to my room. “I thought she was…dead.”
History. That seems like such a flimsy way of describing the bond between Eden and myself.
She’s a ghost from my past. I can’t process what he’s just told me, that she’s alive.
“We all have a history,” he reminds me.
“Are you sure it’s her?” I demand. “Not an imposter?”
I don’t know why anyone would want to be Eden or any of us who used to be in the Lords. But I won’t believe she’s really here, really alive, until I see her.
The Nephilim community is small. Not a lot of us are lucky enough to be the spawn of an angel and some misguided human who was taken by a beautiful face and a fancy backstory.
The truth is, angels are all assholes, and so are their children.
“Look after her,” he says, his face troubled. “Find out if she’s still loyal to the Lords.”
“I’m not reporting on her,” I shot back, suddenly furious. “If it’s really her, I’ll be her guide, Bright, but I’m not the snitch you’re looking for.”
Gabriel’s jaw sets. “You know if she’s loyal to the Lords, there’s no saving her. If Michael knows—”
I scoff. “Michael doesn’t know anything.”
Gabriel glances down the hallway each way, the movement quick, then explodes into my room. He pushes me against the wall, his face furious.
“God damn it, Everett,” he growls. “You at least need to pretend to respect him. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“No,” I say automatically, but I’m not sure I care anymore.
Gabriel steps back. There’s regret written across his face for the burst of temper.
Gabriel might be the best of us, not that that is saying much.
“If she’s still loyal to the Lords, you can help her,” Gabriel reminds me. “That’s what I’m really asking you to do.”
“Sure.” Last I checked, Eden Greyson couldn’t be helped. She was a true believer. I always wanted us to run when we served in the Lords of Havoc. I wanted to give all the angels the slip, buck our destiny, and just live freely somewhere.
I’d wanted to stand on the edge of the ocean with her and live in a run-down apartment and pick through secondhand bookstores and go dancing at night clubs. We were supposed to know what was best for humanity; I just wanted to hide in the human world, to immerse ourselves in it. With her. And she always smiled at me and changed the subject, until the Lords ripped us to shreds.
But I haven’t seen her in two years. Maybe she’s changed.
Maybe I have.
“I’ll try,” I add.
“That’s all I ask,” he says. “Good luck.”
“Yeah. I’ll need it.”
I take a shower and dress in the damned school uniform instead of going to the gym for my workout, full of restless tension at the thought of seeing Eden again.
When I step out into the hall, I exhale a sigh under my breath. Her room is so close to mine, between my room and Julian’s.
I bang on her door.
“Be right there,” she calls, then swings the door open a few seconds later. She’s grinning as she opens the door, her golden blond hair falling in a heavy, shimmering curtain around her heart-shaped face.
It’s really her. My heart lurches in my chest, which is suddenly tight.
She’s still the most beautiful girl in the universe. Fuck me. I’m done for.
That smile dies as soon as she sees me. The air seems to have vanished from the room; all I can see are her luminous green eyes, which suddenly narrow in hatred.
I stare back at her just as coldly, resting my forearm against the doorway, trying to conceal my racing heart.
“Yeah, you can save the charm,” I tell her. “I know you too well. I’m your guide.”
“Nice to see you again, Ever,” she says lightly. She takes a step back. She’s found the school uniform, apparently; she’s dressed in the black uniform skirt, white shirt, and gold-trimmed black blazer.
It’s a striking looking uniform, of course. Angels always have a sense of style. It looks mouthwatering on her, the way it hugs her curves and exposes her long, lean, tanned legs.
I already said too much. I don’t want her to rattle me, or at least, I don’t want her to know she rattles me.
“I’m supposed to show you to the dean’s office before breakfast.” It’s surreal to say these words, to pretend I feel nothing. I grieved Eden. For the last two years, I’ve thought I should get over her—only to push any other girl away.
It’s always been Eden Greyson for me. Only, always. Even when I thought I was in love with a ghost.
But she has her own reasons why she’s been alive for two years while I mourned.
I can’t trust her.
I’m stuck with her, though. “I’ll help you get through your first day. Academic classes, Nephilim training. P.T. in the afternoon.”
“P.T.?” Her brows arch above luminous green eyes.
“Physical training.” Just one of the many ways they try to make us miserable. When I first came here, I thought it was funny. All the little tricks they play to fuck with our heads are so obvious.
But no matter how transparent the faculty’s mind-games may be, I am miserable. So they’ve got that going for them.
“Thrilling,” she murmurs. “Lead on, Ever.”
I take a step back, glancing past her into the bare bedroom. There’s nothing in there but a bed frame with a bare mattress, desk, and chair. Gabriel must have given her uniforms last night, but that’s the bare minimum anyone has to do for us. ‘Luxuries’ like sheets and pillows are earned around here.
Of course, any of us can just take what we want from the other students.
The hardship gives us yet another chance to damn ourselves.
But she’s still smiling, just not as broadly as before she recognized me. She gives no sign that any of this bothers her: not the stained mattress she slept on last night, not her sudden loss of freedom. I haven’t seen her since the day everything went to hell. Part of me wonders what she thinks about that day.
Part of me knows I shouldn’t care enough to get close. Eden is dangerous.
She closes the door behind her, then turns back to lock it. There’s nothing in there anyway.
“No one comes in our dorm. Your stuff is safe,” I tell her. The other students at the school, by and large, have a healthy terror of us. None of us lock our doors.
“I’d have to trust you and your kind, though,” she says, offering me a sly smile.
“Your kind too,” I remind her.
But what kind of angel is she? One of the Lords of Havoc—who seek to take control of humanity—or the Sent, who watch over humanity from the shadows?
The two of us head out of the dorm and across the quiet quad. The fountains gurgle and splash, and a soft breeze caresses the campus above the pink-washed sky. It looks so beautiful here this early in the morning. There’s no hint of how blood-stained this place truly is.
“What kind of classes do we have here?” she asks.
“We have general classes with the rest of them,” I say. “English, math, that kind of thing. Then Theology and Ethics and History with Nephilim instructors after lunch. Then combat sports.”
I know she’s going to love that, so I twist the knife: “Don’t worry, Gabriel set us up with the same schedule. I’ll be with you every step of the day except for a few classes.”
“What’s his story? He’s cute.”
Oh, it’s a knife-twist in return.
“He’s a teacher.”
She shrugs, giving me one of those smiles. “I guess I need those Ethics classes, because I really don’t care.”
We reac
h the dean’s office, and I tell her, “I’ll be out here when you’re done. Then it’s time for breakfast.”
“Too bad I didn’t get the chance to eat my Wheaties before I face someone called the dean of discipline,” she jokes.
That’s her, always joking.
It fills me with a sense of dread as she heads into Aero’s office. She doesn’t know what she’s dealing with.
I cross my arms. She’s always been cocky as hell, and part of it is that she is genuinely badass, but that girl has a lot to learn now that she’s here.
Let Aero take her down a peg or two.
Maybe I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.
Chapter Three
Eden
The dean’s office is sleek and modern. Big windows look over the fancy campus outside, the quad, and the massive fountain. Everything is beautiful here, but I know the angels; I know full well how beauty can hide a rotten core.
As soon as I walk in, the woman behind the reception desk jumps to her feet, a big smile across her face. “Hello, Eden Greyson! So delighted to have you here.”
“Hi,” I say dryly. Her enthusiasm might be the scariest part of this school so far.
“Did you get to try the dining hall yet? Oh, of course, you Nephilim have your own special cafeteria. But both cafeterias have such lovely food! I wish I could eat!” She beams at me. She wears a skin-tight black dress, outlining a body that would rival a Barbie doll.