Pretty Faces (The Fallen Gods Book 6)

by K. A Knight

  “Neither did I. The council still doesn’t, and we will keep it that way,” he growls.

  “Dominic knows everyone and everything,” Remi tells me, leaning farther back into me, though I don’t think she realises it. “He’s helped me on many hunts.”

  “Only with those who deserve it,” he points out, and then his eyes go far away again like he is listening to someone talk, which I guess he is. I lean closer to Remi’s ear.

  “Why didn’t you join his pack?” I whisper.

  “There can only be one alpha,” she replies and looks up at me. “And I’m alpha through and through, baby. Eventually, we would have killed each other. Plus, I’m not really a pack person, too many bad memories. I prefer to be alone.”

  In that one sentence, I hear both sadness and truth. Her differences, her multiple animals, and strength may be a blessing, but it also stops her from fitting in, even with the misfits. She is alone in this world. Like me. But she doesn’t know that I have been here all along. She was never alone, and she will never be alone again.

  Just then, Dominic speaks up, interrupting our staring contest. “There has been some activity on the southside. One of my birds saw a woman with what she described as supes surrounding her, heading into the forest.”

  “We need to go there before she escapes,” I snarl, and Remi nods.

  “Thanks, Dom.” She moves and opens the door. I turn to follow, but his voice stops me.

  “I don’t know who you are” —I look back at him to see him watching me intently, his eyes going to where Remi just disappeared— “but don’t hurt her. That woman has been through hell and back just to be alive. If she’s trusting you…don’t break that. You will be the first she’s ever given that to.” With that, he nods, and unsure what to say, I follow Remi without responding.

  Is he right? Does she trust me?

  What happens when she finds out who she is to me? Will she leave? Will she give us a chance?

  We quickly leave the warehouse and storm towards the car. We need to be quick to reach the necromancer before they disappear into thin air and attack another city. It’s up to us now. We are so distracted, we don’t hear him until it’s too late.

  A gun cocks, making us freeze.

  Something hits me from behind, and I spin, my eyes widening when I spot Thomas. I frown at him, unsure why the old alpha of Remi’s pack is here, why he has a gun in his hand, and why it’s pointed at us.

  “Tom?” Remi asks, confused.

  “Hey, girl.” He nods to her and then at me. “Khalid.”

  “What are you doing?” I query, and he flexes his finger on the trigger, threatening me.

  “What I have to. Sorry.” He shrugs, his orange eyes flicking to Remi in sadness. His grey hair is short, and there are four scarred claw marks cutting down the side of his head and face. Probably from when he lost the alpha challenge. His skin is brown and leathery with age, and his body is still huge and powerful in a way only an alpha can be.

  “Wait, you two know each other?” Remi inquires, looking between us, and his eyes widen as he shakes his head.

  “Still haven’t told her?” He laughs bitterly and looks at her as I inch closer to him. I want to get the gun before he does something stupid like hurt my mate. “Oh, girlie, you’ve been hunting with someone who has lied to you the entire time.”

  “Don’t,” I snap, but she ignores me and focuses on him. “Remi, don’t listen—”

  “He knew you when you were a child. Ask him how. Ask him why he left. Ask him what you are to him,” he barks, and I narrow my gaze further. My last warning. I trusted him once, and that gives him a pass, but only so far.

  “Khalid?” she murmurs, perplexed.

  “Why are you here?” I ask him. “Last we spoke, you were—”

  “I have to bring you both in.” He looks to Remi then, interrupting me. “I hope you understand. I have no choice. They have my daughter.”

  “Who does?” Remi questions.

  “The council. Women have been disappearing, and they approached me a week ago to let me know they had her. If I don’t want her to be killed or used to breed, then I need to bring both of you to them.”

  “But that was before they put the hit out on us,” she whispers, and he nods.

  “You did something to piss off the wrong people, Remi. I’m sorry.” He looks at me. “I think they know. I think they always knew she would lead them to you, and they want you. They want all the gods. I don’t know why. But I need you.”

  She steps in front of me and holds out her hand. “We can help you—”

  “You can’t, no one can,” he yells. “You have to come with me. If I have to knock you out to do it, I will.”

  “Tom,” she whispers. “You protected me as much as you could when I was a kid. You did that, protected me when you didn’t have to. Don’t do this now, not after everything.”

  “I protected you for him because he made me. I’m sorry, kid, but I did what I had to, always have, and I have to now or they will hurt her. She’s my family, you aren’t.”

  Remi’s heart slams, I feel it, feel her questions, and a moment later, I see him start to pull the trigger. Pure, blind panic takes over—the need to protect my mate. No matter what’s in the gun, it can’t hit her. I spin us, bending over her, giving him my back. The movement is what has him firing, and I feel the bullet rip through me. It would have hit her arm had she been there, but because we moved, it rips through my heart.

  I feel it, the blood, the agony, as I fall to the ground. I hear her scream, but I can’t keep my eyes open.

  My heart stops.

  And not for the first time, I die.

  REMI

  I watch Khalid fall. His face is pale, his eyes scared before they close, and that’s when I see it—the blood on my hands. There is a hole in his chest, and I stare down at him in shock as he lies unmoving. I don’t even hear his heart.

  My own stops as my whole world screeches to a halt, and terror like I have never felt before flows through me. I drop to my knees, pressing my hands against the wound as I watch his face. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me,” I snarl, and I feel the soft, slow beat of his heart as it restarts. He’s alive, just. I look up and meet Thomas’ eyes as stares in shock, and I’m unable to stop it…

  My creature takes over.

  Drawn by my terror and panic, by the blood and the thought of almost losing Khalid. One moment, I’m on my knees, and the next thing I know, I’m stretching into the sky. Taller, skinnier. My hands hang down at my sides with claws at the end of them. Even my face changes, becoming almost skeletal. Horns twist into the air. Fangs drop over my lips. I am a mix between the creature and me.

  Thomas stumbles back in terror as I roar at him, bloodlust and hunger consuming me. My vision turns red as my eyes bleed to black. I am unable to control it anymore, the creature is free.

  My wendigo is here, and it wants payback for someone hurting what it claims as its.

  “What the fuck?” he screams, raising his gun again. I’m moving, barely able to make sense of what’s happening, as if time is speeding up and I’m losing it. The creature is even taking control of that. The next thing I see is our hand swiping out and knocking the gun away, cutting through his arm with my claws at the same time. He falls back with a shriek, clutching his ruined arm as his wolf flashes in his eyes.

  “Mine!” I roar, the declaration shaking the earth. It’s so animalistic, the screechy quality makes his ears bleed and his eyes nearly pop as my hunger shatters the air. To feed. To make him bleed. For the pain.

  Blood.

  Death.

  It fills me and takes over my terror until it’s all I can see and feel.

  I have a back seat view as my creature starts to rip into him, shredding off his skin. His screams fill the air, as does the scent of his blood as we tear him to pieces. I cringe as it licks and tastes his blood, but luckily, it doesn’t eat him before we step back and see his unmoving corpse.

>   Chest heaving and covered in blood, we look at Khalid, our hunger unsated, and that’s when I fight.

  No! Do not hurt him, I beg

  Feed, it hisses in my head.

  Not on him, not ever.

  Hurt us. Lied, it growls.

  I know, but not him. Not ever, do you understand? He’s off limits.

  Ours?

  Ours, I agree mentally.

  Heading closer, we pick him up and hold him gently in our arms. His heart is still beating, but it’s slow and he’s losing a lot of blood. I don’t know what was in the bullet or how fast he can heal, but we need to get him somewhere safe.

  I carry him to the closest safe place. I can’t go back to the misfits because of the blood, it will send the vamps into a frenzy, even though my wendigo is calling to me. Daring me to taste the blood, to eat. Instead, I find an old, abandoned house nearby and rip open the cellar door, plunging us into the darkness below.

  I don’t bother with a light, since I’m able to see in the dark, as I move through the long abandoned basement. The floor is a grey, scarred concrete. The ceiling is covered in wooden rafters with spiders in their webs, which hide when they spot me coming. There are boxes and sheet-covered furniture, and I find a sofa in the corner under a hole in the ceiling that lets some natural light in. I place him there gently, sitting him up as I crouch at his feet, watching him. I’m unsure what to do. I need to change back, but my fear and his blood is keeping me frozen this way.

  I listen to the sluggish beat of his heart as those nearly see-through lashes flutter open to reveal his black eyes, and only then do I slump a little. He’s not out of the woods, but he’s getting there. I can’t think of anything else at the moment, not what happened…or what was said. Only that he survives.

  “Leave me,” he hisses, making me frown.

  “No, you didn’t leave me when I was healing. I’ll watch—”

  He screams, his body jerking and contorting. The scream flows through me, making me growl as he slumps. Fresh blood drips from the wound until I can’t help it. My creature makes me lean forward, and my forked tongue flickers out and lashes over the wound, tasting his pain and blood as he watches, panting.

  “Get out!” he yells, his voice rough as I lean back and view him.

  His face flickers for a moment, his mouth open in a silent scream. It seems to stretch out, almost peeling away before he slumps back with his eyes closed. “Please,” he whispers, begging me. “Get out, don’t watch me!”

  “Why?” I hiss, my voice deep from being shifted.

  He’s huffing now, his face pale and eyes closed in pain that I can almost taste on the air. His body is vibrating like he’s holding something back. “Why?” I demand, and his eyes flicker open, locking on me.

  “You can’t stay,” he implores desperately. “Can’t see my true face. I need to-to change back to heal but—”

  Sighing, I lean closer, and with my claw-tipped hand, I cup his face. “Change,” I demand with a smirk. “You’ve seen mine, now let me see yours. I will protect you, but you need to change. Now.” His eyes flare briefly at hearing his words repeated back to him.

  He swallows, searching my gaze, and then like he can’t bear to look at me, he pulls away from my touch and finally lets the skin he’s wearing fall away. But I think due to the pain and the bullet, he’s struggling to gather the energy he needs to shift, and with a scream, he rips at his face. He peels away the skin as if he’s clawing his own off, making me wince at the agony I feel flowing from him until he collapses.

  His hands cover his face.

  I wait, the silence stretching on, and he slowly drops them. He keeps his eyes closed before he takes a deep breath and opens them, watching me as I startle from the difference.

  He has dark, slanted eyebrows that give those black orbs an angry, dangerous appearance. His hair is dark, black, short, and spiked on the top and shaved at the sides with long sideburns. But just before them is a jagged scar which runs around all of his face, like his skin was cut away and peeled…and I’m betting it was from his family. Slowly, I run my gaze across his face, from his thick, plump pink lips and the stubble that covers his jaw, to his thick, regal nose, arched cheekbones, and strong square jaw. He’s so different yet familiar, like I knew this was him even without those eyes he always wears. The eyes I love so much.

  He’s also beautiful. The thick, obvious scar doesn’t detract from his appeal. In fact, it has me nearly licking my lips as my wendigo fades away, letting me change back to human as desire consumes me. I want to kiss him, to taste those lips in his own skin, this man I have grown close to. He could wear the most beautiful skins in the world, but this one right here is my favourite, because it’s him. Every line, every scar betrays his past pain and survival instincts. Every line, dip, and imperfection demonstrates just what he went through to get here. I want to lick along his scar, to taste it, to feel it under my tongue, and to show him it doesn’t detract from his beauty. No, it adds to it, makes him look dangerous, dark, and like a goddamn warrior.

  A true hunter, like me.

  He’s taller too, and thick with muscle. His arms bulge, his veiny forearms clenching as he waits for my judgement, my opinion, like he’s waiting for a blow. He has thick thighs, like tree trunks, that I want to climb. He has a few tattoos dotted on his shoulder, the artwork intricate, tribal lines and dots like a mandala. He has another scar across his wide neck, like they cut it at one point, with a few more faded white ones below and above it like it happened a lot. I make sure to catalogue each scar before I meet his eyes again.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whisper as I watch the hole in his chest start to heal slowly.

  He snorts bitterly, and I narrow my eyes. “You are. Why did you believe I wouldn’t think that? The scars? Bitch, please, they show me you’re a survivor. I have my own goddamn scars to match. This world isn’t easy. It’s made for the strong to flourish. So that…” I lean forward and run my finger across the raised scar, even as he tries to jerk away. “Shows me just how strong you really are.” Shaking my head, I keep my eyes on his as I lean in and do what I wanted to—lick across the scar. He stays immobile, barely even breathing before I pull back slightly and kiss his plump lips. “You are fucking perfect.”

  “You are the first person to see me in centuries,” he admits.

  I smirk. “I feel weirdly happy about that.”

  He smiles, his lips tipping up in that familiar way. He still has the same mannerisms, and that settles me. Then, his smile fades and his eyes turn downcast. “You were right, I didn’t want to show you because every time I see this… Fuck, I can’t even look at myself. It just sends me right back to the cellar where they ripped my face from me over and over again to get me to change. I’ve never felt pain like it, amore, never…except once.” His eyes flicker with a secret, and I frown. “They made me hate my own skin, who I truly was. I was never strong enough, powerful enough.”

  “Khalid,” I snap, “they’re gone, they’re dead, aren’t they? Stop letting them control you or they win.” I could be comforting, but it’s not my jam. No, he needs the blunt truth, not soft words.

  “They are. How much did you read?” he asks with a sigh.

  “Oh, you know, seven brothers, all gods. Parents are assholes, and after they tortured you and killed your friend, you murdered them and split up. That about right?” I inquire with a grin.

  “About sums it up.” He frowns. “They were evil people. Their power corrupted them. When they killed Lilith, it was the last straw, but I never knew losing them would make me lose my brothers as well.”

  “Have you really not seen them since?” I query, sitting back and crossing my legs.

  “Once. I saw Kyro, my younger brother. I—fuck, I’m ashamed. I hid in another skin because I didn’t want him to see me like this. I was a fucking mess, and he looked so put together.” He laughs bitterly. “None of the others have ever tried, and I never did, fearing they wanted their own company.”


  “I’m sorry, that must have been hard.”

  “Even amongst seven, I was alone,” he murmurs, looking at me and letting me see behind the mask he always wears. “My parents ensured that. I was locked in my own torture and unable to be with them.”

  “We are more alike than we thought,” I offer and reach out, gripping his hand. He looks down at our joined hands and winces.

  “Amore, I need to tell you something,” he murmurs, and I get a bad feeling.

  “Yeah? Does it have something to do with Tom telling me you were lying about something?” I question nervously. “I was going to ask when you healed so I could kick your ass.” I laugh, thinking it would be something about his past and who he is, but what he says next sends shock surging through me and my blood turns to ice. My heart breaks and crumbles, and in the next few minutes, I wish I had kept those walls. I wish I hadn’t let him in or come to care for him.

  He’s a liar like all the others.

  “I knew you before you met me, Remi.” I turn my head slightly, taken aback, and he swallows. “I knew you when you were a child.” I snatch my hand away, even as he tries to keep it. He leans forward desperately, wincing when it pulls on his wound. “Please, let me get this out.”

  I purse my lips, and he quickly rushes to carry on. “I’m your mate. I never knew I could have one, and then one day, I was passing the pack’s land. You were only five, but I felt you.” He hits his chest as I watch him. “You were so young, so innocent, and I had so much blood on my hands. I knew I couldn’t stay, couldn’t ruin your life like that. I asked Thomas to protect you, and I left. I thought it was better you never knew I existed, that you’d be better off without me.” Tears fill his eyes as he blinks. “I was wrong, so wrong, but I thought you were safe—”

  I laugh resentfully and get to my feet, starting to pace. “My mate?” I repeat, and before he can talk, I turn to him, glaring. “I thought I was too much of a freak to have one.” I slice my hand to stop him as he starts to talk. “All along, I was alone, left in that place where you thought I was safe. Did you even bother to check to see if I was, or did you just not care enough?” I yell and stare at him, more hurt than angry.