I stared at him as he swooped down, and my fingers found their way to my side. As he landed, I clutched my battered ribs protectively.
He peered down at me, his amber gaze cold and hard. “A succubus against a legion of dragons. Seems you’ve held your own for a while.”
“What?” I could hardly process what he was saying.
He leaned in, stroking a finger over the golden skin on my forearm—the one patch of skin not covered in red and black blood. “A succubus,” he repeated. “One who dresses like an angel. Too intoxicating to waste as dragon food.”
He remembered me from the other night. I was still wearing the glamour of a succubus, and it seemed to be saving my life.
One of the dragons snarled, moving closer, his eyes locked on me, blood dripping from his jaw. Whose blood, I had no idea, but he seemed to want mine also.
The angel pivoted. Then he lifted a powerful arm, slashing his hand through the air. As he moved his arm in an arc around us, an invisible blade seemed to cut through the dragons, ripping through their necks, their chests. Screeching, a few of the dragons flapped their wings, trying to get away before the angel cut through them too, but he was too fast.
He flicked his wrist, and tons of severed dragon flesh slammed against the Earth, shaking the pavement.
And just like that, half the dragon horde around me lay dead.
I turned to stare at the angel, his body glowing with a golden light.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
He took a step closer, his velvet voice brushing over my skin. “I am Kratos.”
“Are you an angel?” I stammered. I had the strongest urge to drop to my knees before him, to worship him. The Earth’s gravity wanted to yank me down. Shaking, I resisted the pull. I wasn’t going to kneel before him. He’d caused all this.
I swallowed hard, clutching the copper feather between my fingertips. “I need help. The dragons took my sister.” But even as I said the words, I knew I was pleading to the wrong man. The man before me wasn’t my savior.
He stepped closer, and heat burned off his body. He leaned in and whispered, “Well then, you’d better find her, hadn’t you?”
“What’s happening?” I stammered.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You could come with me. You could amuse me. I won’t stay in this hellhole long.”
“Come with you where?” My voice sounded hollow.
“To London.”
I shook my head, trying to block out the pile of sodden ash that lay a few feet from us. The grief washed over me so completely I could hardly remember how to speak. “I have to find my sister.”
“Suit yourself.”
“What do you want from me?” I breathed.
“Little succubus. I demand only worship, submission, and the end of the world.”
Again, that urge to kneel overwhelmed me—I wanted to feel the rocky earth biting into my knees. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to straighten.
I grabbed his arm, my fingers leaving smudges of blood over his black clothing. He was terrifying, but desperation spurred me on. “I need your help.”
Cold fury flashed in his eyes, and he pulled his arm away from me. In a burst of honeyed light, he spread his wings, his hair gleaming like a halo. Then he lifted off into the darkened skies.
I woke, covered in sweat, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Nausea gripped my gut, and I wanted to puke. That was why I slept with the candle burning, why I did everything I could to stop myself from remembering the past.
Kratos had been there when the dragons had killed my boyfriend, when they’d ripped my sister from the Earth. He’d done nothing to stop it. To them, we were no better than animals, filthy creatures who should be on our hands and knees in the dirt before them. Once I found Hazel again, maybe I’d put an iron-tipped arrow through the lot of them.
I glanced at the candle, the wax dripping over the floor, and I pulled out a fresh one. I really didn’t want the lights going out tonight. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sleep at all anymore.
Chapter 6
As the sun lowered over East London’s charred buildings, I walked by Katie’s side, my backpack full of potatoes and topped with three dead rats. No rabbits for dinner tonight.
I liked going out on these missions, feeling the sunlight on my skin. I needed the light like I needed water. London had never been known for its beautiful sunlight, but since the apocalypse had begun, the light had somehow taken on a rich, honeyed hue, so sweet I could almost taste it. Maybe the beautiful light was compensation from the angels for destroying civilization. Not quite an even trade-off, but we weren’t in a position to make bargains.
I hadn’t bothered with the glamour today. It sapped my physical and mental energy, and it didn’t seem to deter Dickhead. Apparently, desperate, starving people didn’t care much what you looked like.
As we drew closer to our rookery, Katie glowered at it. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve been buried alive in there,” she muttered.
I was no psychologist, but I was pretty sure her mental situation was deteriorating fast.
“You’re fine, Katie. Take some deep breaths. We’re outside now, and we’ll go into a nice, safe place with windows.”
“Yeah.” She scratched her cheek, pausing in her path. “But I don’t want to go back in there. Feels like death in there.”
“It’s not death, though. Death is out here, if you hold us up any longer.” I’m not staying out in the dark for you, Katie. “The sun is setting, and Dickhead wants to flay me alive. I’d rather not give him the opportunity. You know what I mean?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line and clutched her hands together, knuckles whitening. She shook her head.
Shit. I was losing her.
Before I had the chance to utter another word, she broke into a sprint, careening down Whitechapel High Street, dirty hair streaming behind her.
I cursed under my breath, sprinting off after her. The sun was beginning to set, but I really couldn’t let her run off. She had most of the potatoes. Oh, and I guess I didn’t want to let her die.
“Katie!” I called out. “Frecks! We can stay on the roof! Plenty of fresh air! I’ll get you gloves to touch your face with!”
The sun dipped lower behind the buildings, and goosebumps rose on my skin. We were getting dangerously close to the time of the Hunt.
Katie turned to me, grunting, her expression savage. As she opened her mouth to argue, someone came barreling out of an alleyway, throwing Katie to the pavement. It took me a moment to recognize the dick-shaped birthmark on his forehead, and when I did, I ripped a scalpel from my belt.
Unfortunately, Dickhead already had a machete at Katie’s neck. He’d one-upped me with the blade just a bit.
“Get him off me!” Katie shrieked.
“One false move and I’ll slice your jugular.” He glared at me. “My shoulder still hurts from where you threw one of those things at me, bitch. Good thing them scalpels are clean.”
The word bitch sent a hot surge of anger through my nerve endings. When I spoke again, my voice was low and controlled, belying the fury underneath. “Put the knife away, Dickhead.”
“I’m not fond of that nickname. Name’s Derek. And I’m gonna need your food.”
No way in hell was he walking away with our food. But I’d play along just enough to get his machete away from Katie.
I held up my hands defensively. “Okay. We’ll give you the food. Put your knife away.”
“And I’m going to need you to show me where you get it from.”
Oh hell no. “Night is falling… Derek. The Hunt could start soon.”
His lip curled in a snarl. “I haven’t eaten in two days. I’ll starve to death before any dog finds me. In fact, I’m so hungry I could eat one of them dogs raw right now.”
Idiot. He’d be dead within seconds.
He pressed his machete further into Katie’s throat, and she gave a little yelp.
&n
bsp; “Stand up, crazy bitch.”
My face heated, and I clutched the scalpel tighter. That word again.
“We’re not showing you our food source!” Katie shrieked.
This situation was not good, and nightfall wouldn’t help our chances of survival. We’d just have to placate the psycho until we could make a run from him. I’d hurt him some other time.
I held out my hands. “Everyone calm down. We’ll all take a little walk together, okay? We’ll go to the garden,” I lied.
“Right,” muttered Dickhead. “A little walk. Show me where you get your spuds so I can have in on the bounty.”
Katie spat in his face, and the spit glistened on his cheek. “You’re not getting our potatoes.”
He wasn’t pulling his knife away from Katie’s neck. In fact, the way drool was pooling around his lips, he was looking at her like she was his next meal.
“It makes me really fucking angry, you know that?” he said. “Know your place, bitch.”
“Get off me, you nutter!” Katie shouted.
“Maybe it’s time someone taught you two a lesson.”
Nope. I could kick him hard, knocking him off her, probably break a few of his ribs in the process. But that would risk his machete digging into her skin, severing an artery. I mastered my rage, trying to think clearly through the haze of anger. Maybe it was better to appeal to his appetite to get him away from her.
“Derek!” I shouted. “Do you want to eat or not? She’s got a bag full of potatoes, and I’ve got a fresh rat for you, ready to be roasted. Bet you haven’t had meat in a while, have you? You want some meat and potatoes for dinner?”
His groan was audible. “Meat and potatoes?”
I nodded. “Why waste your time on us when you could be feasting within twenty minutes?”
“What about your garden? I want the whole garden.”
“A little plot of land right next to Christ Church,” I lied. “The bodies buried there years ago have provided wonderful fertilization. You can go there tomorrow, after you fill your belly with the food we’ve got for you here.”
Dickhead wasn’t the kind of guy who had great impulse control and planning skills. He’d easily take a small meal now for a full bounty tomorrow.
He licked his lips. “All right. All right. Slide that sweet rat over to me, and I’ll cut the backpack off this little maggot.”
I could only hope that Katie wasn’t about to do something stupid as I pulled off my backpack, dropping it on the ground. And yet even as I did, I had to wonder where this was going to end. If Dickhead intercepted our food runs every day, we’d starve. Plus, the next time he saw us, he’d know that we’d been lying about our secret garden.
He has to die. I have to kill him.
In the pre-Nightmare world, that kind of idea had never run through my head. Now… now the dark and violent thoughts flowed like the murky Thames.
I kicked the backpack over to him. He grinned at it, licking his lips. “Nice one.”
Then he slid his machete under one of Katie’s backpack straps. Only—her face was contorting with rage, the look in her eyes increasingly crazed.
When she screamed, “Those are my potatoes!” I knew it was all over.
She brought her knee up hard into his groin, then swung a wild right hook while he sputtered.
I snatched the bag off the pavement and broke into a sprint, the wind rushing over my skin. Katie’s footsteps pounded the sidewalk behind me—at least, I hoped they were Katie’s.
As the sun slipped behind the buildings, shadows thickened around us. A chill rippled over my skin. We’d been out here too long, and the Hunt could tear through the streets at any moment.
Sweat dampened my skin, and I cast a quick look behind me. My heart slammed against my ribs when I caught a glimpse of Dickhead closing in on Katie, his face contorted with rage. It was a look that said when I catch you, I will bash your head into the pavement, then eat the flesh from your bones.
How was this starving bastard so fast? Maybe his desperation gave him some sort of super strength.
Gasping for breath, Katie pulled ahead of me, pumping her arms wildly. “We’ll lose him,” she breathed. “Follow me.”
My breath grew ragged in my throat. There was no way in hell we’d lose Dickhead without picking up some serious speed, but my lungs were burning.
There was one way I could move faster—if I let my true form out.
I wasn’t just a fae. I came from a line of feral fae, bestial creatures that dwelled in the forests among the stags and wild boars. We could move fast, like the wind through the oaks. Except—as a feral fae, I didn’t always think clearly or make the best decisions. Civilized logic usually went out the window when my canines and pointed ears came out.
Gasping, I glanced behind me at the maniac sprinting toward me, spit flying from his lips. In the last rays of dying sunlight, his machete glinted fiercely.
Katie swerved right down another narrow alley, footsteps hammering on the cobblestones. Crooked brick buildings loomed above us, and shadows pooled in the alley. I gasped for breath.
They’d be here soon. The hunters.
As adrenaline blazed, my rising fury told me the feral fae taking over whether I wanted her to or not. Fading, I called it, when magic rippled over my skin and the human glamour faded away.
Catching in the breeze, my crimson hair lightened to its natural pale gold. A wild, ancient power blazed through my bones, setting my mind on fire, sparking my lust for blood.
But I couldn’t quite think clearly anymore. An earthy haze clouded my mind, as if particles of dirt and moss whirled in my skull.
The scent of peat billowed around me, and primeval power imbued my limbs, my mind. I’d come home, no longer Ruby, no longer tame. I was blood and moss, earth and claws, a creature who’d gnaw on bones in a marshland. I didn’t need to run.
As I neared the mouth of the alley, I whirled. I bared my fangs and stared at the man who chased me, fingers twitching with anticipation.
Come closer, delicate thing. I will end your pain.
Roots and bone, flesh and earth, teeth puncturing veins, the hot rush of blood, the scent of pine. Trees breathing around me, their trunks pulsing like bellows in time to the rhythm of my lungs.
I will kill to live, and I will enjoy it.
As he ran closer, my hand shot out to grab his throat. My lip curled, fingers tightening ruthlessly around my prey, and I unleashed a feral snarl. I’d caught him by surprise, and he dropped his knife.
Growling, I slammed my forehead into his nose, breaking it. Blood spattered over me, but I clung to his neck, nails piercing his skin.
A vicious grin curled my lips, and terror blazed in my prey’s eyes. My gaze landed on the throbbing vein in his neck, primed for my canines.
Right then, only one thing could have cut through my haze of bloodlust—and it did. From the far end of the alley, the bellowing of hounds rumbled off the brick and cobbles. At their frantic baying, even my feral heart skipped a beat.
Chapter 7
The hair rose on the back of my neck. Still gripping Dickhead’s throat, I froze, sniffing the air, scenting them. I smelled raw meat, and my mouth watered.
Slowly, I turned, staring at the mouth of the alley. The skinny, freckled woman had disappeared. Couldn’t remember her name, what I’d been doing with her. I only knew she’d hidden somewhere, out of danger.
My pointed ears tuned in to the sounds around me—the panicked breathing of my prey, his heartbeat pattering like a frightened rabbit’s. I’d been about to rip out his throat, but there were larger predators afoot now, and I instinctively stilled my movements.
The hearts of the larger creatures pounded nearby, along with a thrilling undercurrent of growls, the wet snorting of enormous snouts.
Their heartbeats called to mine, beast to beast.
I dropped my prey, listened to his footsteps skitter over the cobblestones behind me. I’d kill him later. Only a fool would try
to outrun the hounds of hell. You seduce a beast’s bloodlust with your back turned, with the alluring scent of fear.
In the gathering darkness, steam whirled at the alley’s mouth. The hounds’ heartbeats drew closer, claws tapping on the pavement as they walked.
When they turned the corner, I stared into two pairs of red eyes that gleamed like droplets of blood, faces as high as my own shoulders. Fur the color of bone, stained with splashes of crimson. Steam curled from their blunt snouts. When they growled, their teeth glistened with gore. Long, pointed ears swooped back over their heads, and they snapped their muscled jaws. A few more hounds came up behind them, snarling.
Even in my feral state, I knew I was no match for them, but I still bared my own canines, my heart thundering in my chest like a battle drum. Some rational part of me recoiled at my own savagery, terrified I’d do something insane. But Rational Ruby wasn’t in control right now.
From the whirling mist, another figure appeared, looming over the hounds.
At the sight of him, some part of me understood: there was only one true Hunter.
And right now, his sights were locked on me.
From atop a bone-white horse, the angel glared down at me, his copper wings gleaming with light, golden hair shining like a corona. Leather armor, studded with copper, covered his muscled body.
Like a star, he radiated light. He wore a longbow slung over his back. Looming over the street, he looked like a god. My blood roared through my veins as I gaped at him.
Two warring desires fought for supremacy in my mind. One of them was screaming at me that he was a threat, that I needed to attack him, to dominate him. Feral Ruby, this death-seeking part of myself, wanted to fight.
The other desire compelled me to move closer, to fall to my knees in front of him and worship him like a mindless slave.
And somewhere in the hollows of my mind, his true name knelled. Kratos.
Dim recognition sparked. This was the man I’d been looking for. Right now, I couldn’t remember why, just that I’d been looking for him. To kill him? To worship him?
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