Pretty Faces (The Fallen Gods Book 6)

by K. A Knight

  Sighing, I stand and head to the kitchen, refilling my mug. I hear a ding and wander back. Grabbing my laptop, I sip the tea as I scroll through the results. The more I read, the deeper I frown. All that’s showing up is the information of a human. A boring ass human. He’s in university studying to be a lawyer. His parents live up north, he has two exes, a good credit score, and only one infraction from when he got too drunk and peed on a cop car. Nothing else. Not even a hint of a supernatural connection or a marker identifying he is one himself. Either he’s very good, and he would have to be to hide who and what he is…

  Or he’s a human.

  In which case, why is the council sending me after him? There has to be a reason. Did he witness something? Was he involved in some supe’s business? Maybe something to do with the law? Fuck if I know. I send my systems in deeper, trying to discern if he has changed his identity or was someone else. Sometimes vamps do that, it can take a lot of money, but it happens. He didn’t taste or smell like a vamp though, and those black eyes…

  Maybe it’s a demon possessing a human? Fuck, I hate when I have to banish demons. Unless you’re a witch, it’s quite hard, but luckily, I studied with a few priests and old hunters and have their secrets. What a shame though, it usually kills the human, especially if the demon is strongly connected, which I’m guessing it is to this human.

  His phone number pops up, and I check his location, it puts him at the library on the other side of town. I check his messages and calls, and it looks like he’s been there all night. What the fuck is happening?

  There is only one way to find out—find the man and ask him. Or just kill him and put this whole twisted mess behind me, even though it’s the most interesting hunt I’ve been on for a while.

  Leaving it to do a deeper search and keep tabs on his location, I down my tea and stand, stretching my muscles. My animals awaken and unfold inside me, I feel their fur rubbing along my insides like a hug. Cracking my neck, I close my eyes and look within. It’s dark apart from their glowing eyes, all of them finally getting along inside of me. It took a long time to get them to stop tearing each other apart, which actually hurt me. No one knows why I was born with more than one animal. They all assumed I was a wolf when I was given to the pack as a child.

  I asked the alpha once, who was always nice to me, and he said he didn’t know where I came from. Yet when I left, he took me aside and told me to believe that there was something waiting for me out there. That I was given to them for a reason, and one day, my purpose would become known. He was old and losing his memory at this point—at almost three hundred years old, he was one of the oldest wolves alive.

  Until he was almost killed in a challenge and the pack was taken over by the asshole who voted me out.

  My wolf whines inside me, begging to be released. It’s been a while, but being a wolf always makes me sad. They are pack animals, and she often howls in loneliness, whining and wishing she had someone to run with, dreaming of open forests where she could hunt under the moon. I see her get to her belly and creep out of the dark, her bright blue eyes begging to be set free.

  To stretch out of the prison she’s locked in inside me.

  “All right, all right, girl, come on. No pissing the neighbours off again though, okay?” I mutter as I start to strip while I head upstairs, dropping my shirt, bra, and panties. Striding up the last steps nude, I open the door to the roof, closing my eyes as the cool air wraps around me, bringing the scent of the city and, underneath that, the woods close by.

  The fragrance of nature, of freedom. My wolf prowls within me, moving faster and faster, knowing she’s about to be let out. A paw comes out of the dark and swipes at her, and I snarl internally, warning them not to fight.

  Stepping onto the fake grass, I drop to my knees and let the change come over me. It takes mere seconds. Even when I was younger, I could shift faster than any other wolf…just not always into that one animal. My bones break, and my skin peels away, replaced by fur. My hands turn to paws and grow claws, a tail forms and wags behind me as I tip back my head and howl with my new muzzle.

  Stretching out my rump, digging my paws into the grass, I shake out my fur. My eyesight is heightened, my hearing too. You get used to changing after a while. When not in their form, they feel separate, but when we change…we become one. That’s what we are now—one. We hop and lope around the grass, exploring and sniffing before we dive in the water and swim. We climb out and stretch on the end, and just lie under the moon. The urge to hunt is roaring through me, to taste the metallic tang of blood and feel the tear of fresh meat between my teeth, but it won’t happen. We have to settle for this tiny slice of freedom.

  We nap for a while, dozing in and out of sleep, before a burst of energy hits us and we race around to the door. Tugging on the rope I installed, we head downstairs, hop up on the bed, dig up the pillows and bedding, and then circle before dropping into the nest. Resting our head on our paws, we close our eyes, and a feeling of peace settles within us as we fall asleep.

  I wake up early the next day, ready to track my target. It doesn’t matter that I was attracted to him, or that there was a weird bond between us. He’s a dead man walking, he just doesn’t know it yet. Poor him, he should have let me suck his dick, then at least he would have died happy.

  Overnight, more information has come through, like where he lives, what car he drives, and which places he frequents. I send the tracking of his phone to my cell and shut it down before having breakfast and showering off the scent of my wolf. Once I’m clean, I wind my hair into a crown on my head so my prey is unable to grab it and use it as a handle. I line my eyes and put on some lipstick, blood red. Flashes of crimson liquid spurting into my mouth and onto my chest has me gasping and leaning into the sink, my pussy clenching.

  I really need to get laid.

  After the hunt, I tell my body, stowing my urges for now. Heading to my wardrobe, I slip into some tight, dark blue jeans and then add my tall, black, lace up boots, which I tie tightly. There is a blade connected in the heel of one, ready to flick out. I add two more knives, one in each, before putting on a black lace bra and white tank top. My leather jacket completes the outfit, with knives in the pocket. I also add a choker around my neck which can be used as a garrotte. Lastly, I add some clips to my hair for an emergency.

  I look in the mirror again, and my blue eye flashes amber for a moment, but never my black one, which hasn’t changed since I was born—a sign of evil, Connar used to say, the fucking wanker. The amber is a sign of my tiger being close, prowling. She’s aching to hunt, for my claws to come out, to disembowel someone and feed. She’s not the most vicious of my animals but definitely the second. She is always ready to kill. She learned to defend me when we were young. After my animals started to appear, the pack treated me badly. As an omega, even though I was stronger and faster, I became the punching bag until I was tossed out on my ass.

  Flashes of that night in the woods flow through my mind, and my tiger roars in fury, even as I push them away. She can’t forgive me for that moment, for letting him live, but I had no choice, and I remind her of that now. He is alpha. If I killed him, I would be hunted until my dying day. I would never be safe, never be okay. To kill an alpha outside of a challenge is unspeakable, but for an omega, a stray reject to do it?

  It’s a death sentence.

  No, I did what I could to survive. Just like I always have. Always alone, just me, myself, and my fucking trusty knives. This world isn’t made to look after the weak, it’s made for the strong to survive. For those willing to go to dark places, prepared to do anything. Those people? They not only survive this game of life, they fucking thrive in it.

  Like me.

  Winking at myself, I turn and grab my keys, slamming the front door after me. When I hear the automated lock click on, I suck in a deep breath. I begin to walk, turning the corner, keeping my hands in my pockets but ready. My senses are on high alert. I smell him already. The man from the club,
my prey. I almost grin, my target is coming to me, stalking me, hunting me, like I won’t know. I hear the slight intake of his breath and each footfall, which he thinks is so silent. I’m attuned to his every fucking move.

  This will be too easy.

  I lead him exactly where I want him to be, and he has no clue. The monsters always think they’re the scariest. They fear nothing, never seeing past their own strength to the powers of others. They think everyone else is weaker, just like the council, and it will be their downfall and his. Not that I owe them much allegiance past a fucking paycheck. I know their power, and I choose to stay with them…for now.

  Walking through the neighbourhood, I don’t let him in on the fact I know he’s there. I stroll through the morning lit park, nodding at people all the while leading him along, seeing if he will pounce, but he never does. I take a right out of the park and pass the businesses, heading into the rougher side of town. He sticks closer then, and when I’m between some old, derelict houses, I slip into the alley and then hide behind the bins. I hear him stop at the end and then start down the alleyway, wondering where I am.

  He passes me, and I slip out behind him, pressing my knife to his throat as I lean up on my toes and whisper into his ear. “Got you, pretty boy.”

  Instead of panicking like I thought, he relaxes into my knife, and I can feel his amusement and…pride? “Well done. When did you sense me?”

  “Before I even left the house,” I admit, and then press the knife in deeper. “So why are you following me? I know it’s not to get into my panties.”

  “So sure?” he teases. His voice is darker today…almost different.

  “Yes. Why?” I ask, stronger now, trying to ignore the sway of my body towards his. He turns in an instant and presses me to the wall. My knife is still at his throat, even as he slams my other hand to the wall. He could push the knife away, slip free, and run…but he doesn’t. Why? My interest is piqued. This hunt definitely isn’t boring, that’s for sure.

  He leans down, his breath wafting over my face as his gaze flickers from my lips to my eyes. “Maybe you interest me. Maybe I was going to see where you were going. Or maybe I just wanted to finish what we started.”

  “Liar.” I grin as I relax into the wall. He might run, but I’ll follow. “I’ll play along though.”

  His eyes lock on my lips, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. His body presses closer, and I run my tongue along my bottom lip as he watches. “Why did you lead me here?” he murmurs, his tone low and needy.

  “Why did you follow?” I counter, and he presses his neck farther into my knife, his eyes narrowing with desire, his lips parted. I arch my eyebrow at that as a cocky smirk curves my lips. Oh yes, he likes pain. What a shame, I could have played with him, but I have to kill him.

  Something has him glancing to the end of the alley, and he groans before looking back at me. “Until next time,” he promises and steps away.

  I charge after him. “I’m not done—”

  I’m so distracted by trying to reach him, I don’t see it coming.

  The fucking bastard knocks me out.

  My last thought is that he definitely isn’t human. So what is he?

  KHALID

  I catch her and gently lower her to the ground next to the wall and cover her in my coat. At least she will be safe until she wakes up. My head jerks up as I hear them draw closer. The other hunters are after me. The council isn’t fucking around anymore. I don’t know how they know what face I changed to, but they clearly do, or this human has fucked with the wrong people. Either way, I have to lead them away from her. She can kick ass, hold her own, that much is obvious, but this is my mess. She shouldn’t be involved in my life, it will get her killed, which is the very fucking reason I left her.

  Why was she trying to trap me?

  Is she hunting me too? Has the council sent my own fucking mate after me?

  If so, do they know… No, they can’t, or they would have kept her as far away from me as possible. Backing an animal into a corner with the one thing in this world he cares for and protects will only make him more dangerous unless…unless they thought it might throw me, make me weak, and she would kill me in that hesitation.

  Fuck.

  Leaving the alley, I circle the building and spot them looking down the end for me. They aren’t too smart. The council probably gave them her coordinates to track and find me. Assholes. But I don’t want them to find her either. They might be on her team, but I can’t be too safe. Leaning into the bricks of the building next to me, I whistle at them. “Looking for me?” I call.

  All four turn. They are the usual meathead hunters, mainly shifters due to their tracking abilities—they are the best, after all—but I spot a vamp in their mix as well. “Wow, they must really want me dead to send a whole team of you meatheads. All right then.” I push away and step into the middle of the road and then turn. “Catch me if you can.”

  I take off running, and I hear them following behind me. One of them changes, a howl going up. I lead them at least five miles away from my mate and into a deserted park, stopping in the middle of the grass. I crack my knuckles as they enter from different entrances. The wolf is small and black and flashes his fangs, his head lowered as he creeps towards me. The vamp is behind me, trying to sneak closer, and another two shifters are up in the trees, ready to pounce.

  This should be fun.

  The wolf attacks first, pushing from the ground and leaping at me. I catch its snapping jaws in my hands and rip them open before throwing it to the ground and smashing my foot down on its head, crushing the skull. Blood, brain, and fur goes everywhere as I avoid the punch coming from the vampire. He slashes a knife at me, and I duck and weave backwards. He thinks he’s leading me to the other shifters, trapping me. Idiot. He grabs another knife, his long, dramatic black hair swishing across his face with the movement. What’s with all vamps thinking they need to look like that stupid fucking Interview with the Vampire film?

  Ciar would die if he saw how pathetic his race has become.

  He swipes, and I duck under it, wrapping my arm around his neck with my hand across his head, then I snap his neck. Throwing him to the ground, I pull my stake and impale it through his chest. His eyes flare wide, and his mouth opens in a scream, and with a grin, I tug the stake free and turn to the shifters waiting in the trees.

  When I do, they leap down. Twins, how strange. Both are big bastards, and both are meatheads. They circle me, and I wait patiently. Idiots, I led them right where I wanted them, right into my hands and death. One of them nods at the other, their blond hair shining in the sun, and his hands snap out to the sides, showing off claws. It’s a partial shift, which displays strength, even if they are dumb.

  They rush me, a whirlwind of claws, and one manages to catch me on the arm. My blood fills the air, making them cocky, whereas it makes me more determined. I duck at the right time, and the twin on the left stabs out. He tries to stop the momentum when he realises I’ve moved, but it’s too late. His claws stab through his twin’s eyes and face, who falls back howling. Bringing my elbow down onto the stunned twin’s arm, I snap it before kicking his leg out and breaking that too. He falls to the ground with a scream. Pulling my silver knife, I stab him through the heart, and it kills him instantly. His twin is rolling across the ground screaming, fur flowing over him as he tries to shift and heal.

  Not happening.

  I kick his face, snapping his neck, and then stab him through the chest as well. I stand with a grin and look over the mess of bodies. Time to clean up. Looking around, I spot a car just beyond the park, and I stroll to it. I open the gas cap and, using a bit of tubing and an empty bottle, start to syphon the fuel before heading back and sprinkling it over the corpses. I open my lighter and set them on fire.

  Turning their bodies to a crisp.

  Just more council bitches dead. Now, it’s time to get back to stalking my mate, because it’s clear she can’t be left alone, and she has
no intention to stop hunting me.

  Fine.

  I’ll hunt her too. If she’s working for the council…if she chooses them…I’ll have to kill her.

  It will end me also, but if it saves innocents, I’ll do it.

  I head back to the alley, but she’s gone. The drawing on the wall makes me laugh though. She drew a middle finger. Oh, my little mate is so fiery. I never expected her to be such a wild card. So fucking strong and confident and… Fuck. I keep remembering the way she tasted, the touch of her lips. Her incredible body in my hands.

  For a man who vowed never to touch her, she’s making a liar out of me.

  I follow her trail back to her house. She must be inside, so I wait, stalking my little mate. It doesn’t take long before she exits, climbs onto a bike at the curb, and speeds off.

  Shit.

  I don’t have any chance to follow her, so instead, I go back to the hotel I’m staying at. I came here to kill Sinclair, after all, which I did, but I also need to deal with any others preying on innocents, and mate or not, I still have to do that. She may be messing with my plans, but she won’t stop me. She won’t kill me either. Many have tried over the years, yet only she has gotten that close.

  I search social media and local news, the easiest way to find monsters. People often discard the stories as far-fetched, and some of them are, but others are true and it’s about weeding those out. I ignore the alien abduction stories and some implausible desires and fan fiction until I find one that catches my eye.

  It’s a tweet about being attacked by a man who tried to bite her. I click her social media to see her saying she woke up in an alley. Fuck, I bet he glamoured her. If it’s a stray vamp without a coven, or even worse, a killer, then he will go back to her. He has to, she’s seen his face. I quickly locate her address, using pictures and social media information, and head out to discover what she knows and stop her from being murdered.