The Dead Saga (Book 6): Odium VI

by Riley, Claire C.

  ODIUM VI

  The Dead Saga

  By USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Claire C. Riley

  Odium VI

  Copyright © 2018

  Written by Claire C. Riley / Cee Cee Riley

  Edited by Amy Jackson = seriously awesome badass!

  Cover Design by Eli Constant of Wilde Book Designs = also an awesome badass!

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or have been used with that person’s permission.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work that went into producing this book and for purchasing it from a reputable place and not stealing it like a seriously un-cool pirate!

  About the book

  In the sixth book of the Dead Saga series, Nina is fighting more than just her demons; she’s waging war upon evil, because the greatest enemy now isn’t the deaders—it’s humans.

  Determined to eradicate the Savages from the earth, Nina must settle an age-old argument and bring together mortal enemies. Because it’s more than just their own survival at risk now…it’s everyone’s.

  Running blindly toward danger is what Nina does best—only this time her eyes are wide open. She knows the risks, but she also knows that time is running out for Mikey; the Savages are hungry, and they’ll only play with their food for so long.

  Nina must eventually make the choice between love and survival, because in a world gone mad, you can’t have both, and no matter how much you want to stay, sometimes it’s easier to say goodbye.

  In a world so full of darkness, try to be the light.

  ODIUM VI

  The Dead Saga

  By USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Claire C. Riley

  Chapter One

  Mikey

  The air was stale and damp. The stench of something pungent and, worryingly, now familiar hanging in the air. I knew what it was, but I didn’t want to think about it. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to think about less. Because it was a smell that had been hung like a cloak around the world’s shoulders for years now. A cloak which I unfortunately got to pull back and see underneath inside the candy store. The stench was death.

  “Move,” a female voice said from next to me.

  So I moved. Even though I didn’t want to. Even though every muscle in my body felt like it was solidifying and turning to rock. I didn’t want to move, because I’d already been in a place like this before, and I knew what a place like this was for. What secrets it held insides its walls.

  But I did move. Because I had to. I put one foot in front of the other and tried to think of any way out of the situation that didn’t end with me being cut up and eaten like a damned burrito. My stomach rumbled—though in hunger for a burrito, my long-lost favorite food, or in fear for its own life, I wasn’t sure.

  Either way, no matter how hard I looked around me for a means of escape, or no matter how hard the cogs in my head turned to figure out how to get out of the situation without ending up on someone’s plate, I still came up blank.

  I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Aife staring at me. Her mouth was a thin line, but the edges lifted into a slight curve when she saw me looking. I looked away, my gaze casting over Drag as I did. He still had his arrogant smirk in place, but the blood trailing from between his fingers as he clutched the stub of ear that Aife had left for him told me that nothing about this was funny anymore—if it ever even was. The cut above his eye had stopped bleeding, but blood was smeared down one side of his face like war paint. The man looked feral. Feral and seriously pissed off.

  I should have stayed in the damn truck, I decided.

  The musky corridors were dark, and the only sound I could hear was that of our footsteps scuffing against the dusty ground beneath us. The walls were lit by torches that were hooked into the wall, like we’d gone back to medieval times. Shit, maybe we had. Because if I thought the apocalypse was bad, it was nothing compared to what I feared was coming.

  Hands suddenly grabbed at the back of me, pushing me into a small stone room, and I stumbled in, my booted feet tripping over themselves before I managed to right myself and stop myself from falling over. I swiftly turned around to face the women—if they could be called that. Outside, that was just what they had seemed like: women. But in here they were so much more.

  They were self-rulers. Gods of the underworld. Controllers of their own destiny. Maybe that sounded dramatic, and maybe it was. But one thing that was stark in my mind when I looked at them, my gaze dragging over each emotionless face smeared with black war paint, their black eyes dead like their souls, was that we were well and truly screwed.

  Drag walked in after me, slowly like he had nothing to fear. One hand still clutched the side of his head where his ear should have been, and he was still wearing his grin like armor—or maybe he truly didn’t give a damn. Maybe he really had lost it. Somewhere between now and the past when the world went to hell, maybe the evil of the earth had swallowed up anything human left inside of him.

  He turned to look at the Savages, his grin creeping wider up his face as he took his time to look at each and every one of the women like it was a cattle market and he was picking a prime piece of beef to take home. I didn’t think he’d gotten the memo that we were the beef and it was anything but a cattle market and more like a butcher shop.

  “Anyone got a light?” he asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the top pocket of his leather cut. “Better yet, a bottle of whiskey would go down real nice cus’ I’ve got a killer headache that only whisky is gonna solve.” He smirked.

  The Savages muttered between themselves, but I couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. Or maybe I could but it just made no sense. Their dialect seemed to be a mix of real words and made-up ones, but when it all came together it sounded like nonsense in my head.

  The Savages parted and Aife stepped forward. She pulled out a lighter from her pocket and Drag leaned in and casually lit his cigarette, his hard gaze on her the entire time.

  “Thank you, darlin’,” he said with a nod of his head and a smile. “I knew you were going to be more accommodating to me. We’ve always gotten along so well, you and I. Always been able to help each other out. Not sure why today is so different, but I’ll let it slide.” He blew a smoke ring and reached over, placing his hand between her legs and moving his fingers against the material of her pants. A slow smile quirked on his mouth. “Gonna have to be a good girl for me now though, or I’ll have to punish you.”

  She continued to watch him while he talked, jabbering on about making her feel good and how it was all a misunderstanding, and how they could still come to some sort of arrangement. Her expression remained the same: calm, blank, watchful, impassive. And while she was watching him, I was watching her. And what I saw scared me more than the monsters outside.

  Finally, Drag had the good sense to shut the hell up. He pulled his hand back and took a step to one side before leaning against the wall to our left, probably realizing that he was getting nowhere with her.

  “So, gorgeous, what did you want me and my boy down here for? You after a little ménage á trois?” Drag chuckled and glanced across to me. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement, though I will admit I don’t normally like to share my playthings.” He
shrugged. “I guess that’s why God gave you more than one hole though, right?” He laughed again, and I blinked in shock and surprise that he’d just said that to her. The man had clearly lost his fucking mind.

  Aife stepped closer to him, one of the long-haired women right at her heels. I watched, waiting to see if he was going to flinch. When he didn’t, I decided he must have balls of steel. She’d already bitten his ear off, so clearly she wasn’t afraid of him or any repercussions.

  “There will be no deal. No trade. At least not with you,” Aife said, her tone dark. “Maybe a deal for you though.” She laughed and looked at the other Savages, who joined in laughing. “At least the parts of you that are left.”

  Drag continued to smirk, unfazed by the threat. Crazy fucker even laughed back. “That’s okay, my club will trade to get me back. Whatever you want, darlin’, just name your price.”

  Aife put a hand to the side of his face, gently cupping his cheek in it. She dragged her palm down and then moved her fingers over his mouth, letting them brush against his lips. Drag opened his mouth and sucked one of her fingers in. He sucked his own blood off her fingers, humming like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

  “You misunderstand, pet. I don’t trade you to your club, but to others who are hungry.” She pulled her finger out of his mouth and stepped away as Drag’s expression hardened. “You’ll make a good trade for us.”

  “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he said.

  Aife walked toward me, her gaze soft and cold, and my heart skipped a beat as fear clutched it between its icy fingers. “Yes, that is how it is going to be. It is the cycle of life, is it not?”

  Not, I think. Definitely not.

  “Bitch, you’re even crazier than I first thought if you think I’m going to let you or anyone else eat any part of me. I will cut you up and feed you to my dogs before that happens!” Drag growled.

  Aife’s gaze was on me and she smiled as she came closer. A smell hung around her, and I would have sworn it was the smell of death. As she got closer she leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips hot against my clammy skin.

  “You will be my new pet, yes?” she asked.

  I glanced over at Drag, noticing that his face was contorted in fury, a small vein bulging in his neck, at the idea of being replaced. Or maybe he was finally scared. It was about time.

  “You replacin’ me, bitch?” he bit out.

  Aife looked back over her shoulder. “Yes. You are food now. I don’t play with my food. I’m not a cat,” she cackled, sending a cold chill down my arms.

  Drag shook his head, his fury deepening as he glared between me and Aife. And all the while I stood there, speechless and wondering why the hell he was even having this conversation. It wasn’t like he was talking about taking her out for pizza or whether she’d do business with him again and he was pissed off about the loss of earnings. No, he was pissed off because she was trading him in for me.

  He was jealous, not worried for his life.

  And all the while, all I could think about was the sound of the bat hitting Phil’s face—or who I’d thought was Phil—while he hung from the meat hook back at the candy store. His gargled screams and the splash of blood that hit the ground beneath him.

  I heaved, practically tasting the flesh on my tongue, and the way it had slid down my throat.

  Aife turned back to look at me. “Hush, pet. No need to fear. I’ll look after you now. At least until I’m hungry,” she said with a smile.

  I leaned back against the wall, willing the vomit to stop climbing up my throat as I stared at her. I’d been here before; in this situation, and I’d sworn I’d never be in it again. Yet here I was, ready to be cut up and eaten piece by piece. Shit.

  “My people will take you to be cleaned and then bring you to my chamber later, yes.” Aife smiled.

  I opened my mouth to respond but Drag cut me off. “He’ll be there. All fuckin’ shiny and ready for you, bitch.”

  Aife’s gaze bored into mine, her dark eyes pulling me in and dragging me into her personal hell with a flick of her tongue. Her scent wrapped around me as she stepped even closer—so close our bodies touched, her breasts pressing against my chest as they bulged out of the top of her leather corset. Only when I looked closer, it wasn’t like any leather I had ever seen. The material was stretched, a light brown shade that was almost like a dark cream, and it was all patched together with tight, thick black stitches.

  It hit me suddenly what I was looking at and what the smell was that hung around her, and my stomach recoiled. I tried to take a step back, away from her and her human clothing, but I was already against the wall. Already trapped within arm’s reach. Drag started to laugh, a deep chuckling that grew louder and louder as the room began to spin. He knew exactly what I’d just worked out.

  There was no way in hell I was sleeping with her.

  There was no way in hell I wanted this woman—no, this monster—anywhere near me.

  But there was also no way to avoid it without ending up as one of her wardrobe centerpieces either. I was well and truly screwed, and all Drag could do was laugh.

  She turned and walked away, leaving the room without another word to me. Thank God. The other Savage women left too, locking the door behind them, taking their small lanterns and plunging me and Drag into darkness. His laughter slowly died out as our eyes adjusted and I tried not to have a panic attack.

  “You know what you gotta do, right, brother?” he said in the dark, the end of his cigarette glowing bright.

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I was still in shock about what she’d been wearing. It was the second time in almost as many days that I’d been trapped in a cage, waiting to be eaten. I shook my head and slumped back against the wall, letting my back slide down its rough surface until my ass hits the ground.

  “You hear me?” Drag said.

  “I hear you,” I replied.

  “It’s not so bad.”

  I scoffed but didn’t say anything.

  He chuckled. “It’s not. Bitch is wild in bed—likes it rough too. Just gotta get past the smell of her and whoever she’s wearin’ and you’ll do us proud.” He chuckled louder as I groaned.

  “Will you shut up. I need to think,” I retorted, my voice coming out thick and gravelly. He chuckled again but thankfully didn’t say anything else.

  Drag didn’t know shit. He had no idea what was coming for him. He hadn’t seen his friend strung up before being tortured and murdered in cold blood. He hadn’t fed on someone’s flesh. He hadn’t waited in the darkness, with the sounds of screams and the smell of flesh cooking. Being so hungry that, despite yourself, your mouth watered and your stomach grumbled to be fed.

  Drag didn’t know shit.

  I wasn’t not scared for me.

  I was scared for him.

  Chapter Two

  Nina

  Mikey.

  His name was running circles around my brain.

  Mikey. Mikey. Mikey.

  It didn’t matter what I did, where I went, or how much I tried to avoid him: the man was haunting me. Hunting me. There was no escaping Mikey or the connection we had, and seemingly would always have. Because no matter how much I tried to disconnect my life from his, it never happened.

  It seemed our lives were forever entwined.

  Yet I thought I saw something that I hadn’t seen before. Something I always blamed myself for, when perhaps it wasn’t all my fault after all. I saw myself as a magnet for trouble, danger finding me at every turn. Yet Mikey had found himself in just as much trouble, and I wasn’t anywhere near him. So maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn’t all my fault at all. Maybe I wasn’t the walking talking disaster I always thought.

  The me was a we, and the fault lay with both of us.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, though. Did that mean that we were doomed, just like I thought? Or did that mean we were destined to be together? Because we seemed to find each other no matter wha
t. Despite the obstacles that life put in our way, we always found our way back to one another.

  I took another look at the woman in the truck, my eyes narrowing imperceptibly. She was distraught at him being taken away, and I wasn’t stupid; I knew what that meant. And though it really shouldn’t have been what I was focusing on right then, I couldn’t help myself.

  She cared for him—that much was obvious. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were in a relationship together. The hurt cut me to the bone, a knife to my bitter, shallow heart. How long had it been since he’d thought I’d met my untimely demise trying to save his life? Could he really have been moving on from me so soon? I glanced back at Shooter, knowing that I had no room to be disgusted with Mikey, and yet I was.

  My stomach ached, a sick feeling building in it because what was really important was that he was in danger right then and might be—what did she say? Eaten alive? Jesus Christ, the world was in-fucking-sane. And getting more insane by the day.

  The other woman let out a small sob and brushed away a tear on her cheek. My stomach ached again, like I’d eaten something bad, and my throat grew tighter, closing off all the words I wanted to say.

  “You have to help us. Help him,” she said, her voice hoarse as she tried to gain control of herself. “Please, they’re going to kill him.” She let out a low moan that sounded more animal than human. “They’re going to eat him!”

  “Are you talking about cannibals?” I asked, a slight hesitation to my tone. Because though she hadn’t exactly used that word, that was what definitely what she was implying. But hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe the world wasn’t really as fucked up as all that and it was a slip of the tongue and she meant they had invited him over for dinner. Like he was just helping to cook the food and wasn’t actually the food…or something? God, I hoped so, because the other thought was too sickening to consider.