Greed (The Damning Book 1)
Page 6
A purr.
The giant man was purring?
My fight or flight response must’ve been broken, for it added on a new
choice to the equation: fuck. And right then, my body really wanted to do just
that. With a giant, purring, murderous Shifter.
“What is actually happening right now?” I asked in exasperation. I was no
longer scared. That emotion had diminished the second my heart rate decided
to settle back into a normal rhythm. If anything, I was annoyed.
Lupe straightened suddenly, eyes narrowing on my face and full lips
parting.
Before he could say anything, the door to the ballroom opened and
closed. I heard the patter of footsteps, but I refused to break eye-contact with
Lupe. The air around us seemed to practically shimmer with electricity.
“Zara Winters!” Mrs. Grinshaw snapped. “You’re not supposed to be
here!”
“Well no shit!” I quipped before I could stop myself. I finally broke free
of Lupe’s penetrating gaze, looking over his broad shoulder at the older
woman. Mali was standing beside her, expression wary. “I tried to tell you-”
“Leave!” She pointed a finger towards the doorway, and I let out a breath
of relief. Without giving her the chance to change her mind, I hurried towards
where Mali was waiting for me.
“Thank god,” I whispered to my friend, linking my arm with hers.
“How the hell did you end up in The Matching?” she asked, voice barely
containing her laughter.
“Don’t ask.”
Despite the eyes I could feel on my back, I kept my gaze forward. I had a
competition I needed to focus on.
And I had some princes I needed to kill.
SEVEN
Z
The sky was gray as I stepped into the grassy clearing the next
morning, the large clouds threatening rain. My black cloak swooshed
around my feet with each step I took, though I barely processed it.
Diego had done his spell well; I couldn’t even feel the mask obscuring my
face, let alone my heavy clothing. If anything, it felt like an extension of my
body. I still couldn’t get over the fact that Diego had created this spell. Diego.
He must’ve really loved me for taking the time to create such an intricate
design when I knew he would rather sit on the couch and waste the day away.
My bow and arrow were slung over my shoulder, and I kept three daggers
on my person - one on each leg and one on my hip. I had wanted to bring my
machete, but Mali had insisted that it was overkill.
After a long argument, I had eventually conceded. What she didn’t know,
however, was that Diego had masked my machete so it hung from the
shoulder opposite of my bow, utterly invisible. I still felt the weight, but the
weapon itself remained unseen.
Thank you, Diego.
I wasn’t the first to arrive at the clearing, but I also wasn’t the last. My
timing was, as always, impeccable. It was ingrained within me that I had to
be like my machete: invisible. It was crucial for my survival.
I got a few glances when I arrived, no doubt for my badass getup, but
nobody commented on the fact that I was a female or a human. Once again,
Diego had saved my ass.
I nonchalantly spun a dagger through my fingers, being extra cautious not
to do anything too amazing. If I were to win, I had to be in the middle of the
pack, at least at first. The top competitors would turn on one another near the
beginning stages of The Damning as well as eliminate those they deemed as
“easy” or “vulnerable”. It was vital that I didn’t fall into either one of those
categories.
I looked at the various men spread out along the clearing. And that was
what they all were. Men.
A few had their feet dipped inside the adjacent lake. Mermaids, no doubt,
attempting to get every last drop of power the water was willing to give them.
Some of the men were large, the size of tree trunks, while others were
small and wiry, almost sinewy, in appearance. Still, I knew not to be fooled
by their less-than-impressive physiques.
One guy in particular caught my attention. He was tall and lightly
muscled, nothing extraordinary compared to the immense beast of a man
beside him. Despite his skinny frame, there were numerous scars adorning his
face, as if he had fought more battles than I could comprehend. His eyes were
cold, devoid of emotion. It wasn’t like the indolent expression Lupe had worn
earlier. It wasn’t an impassive mask one would use to hide their true selves
away from the world. This man just looked dead, a mannequin with painted
on eyes and lips.
It was unnerving.
Another man stood a little bit away, watching the competitors with an
amused tilt to his lips. He had blond hair nearly down to his ankles, and his
violet eyes glowed. Only one species had violet eyes
Genies.
The devils themselves.
I hated him immediately.
That point was only reinforced when he spoke.
“Is this everybody competing? There’s no pussy?”
The rest of the men jeered and laughed, and I mentally added each and
every one of them to my shit list. Okay, maybe shit list was the wrong word. I
preferred to call it my kill list, as in, I was going to kill every last one of
them. Painfully. And with a variety of weapons.
I flipped through all of the information I had received from B on all of the
competitors. The man with the dead eyes was named Zack. From what I
knew about him, he made me ashamed to have a Z name. A serial killer, he
was recently released from prison for the sole purpose of this competition. He
didn’t have empathy nor did he have a moral compass, though I supposed
you could argue those were one and the same. Either way, he would be a
deadly foe.
The giant of a man beside him, with a shaved head and numerous tattoos,
was Griffin. A Shifter and a renowned rapist. Like Zack, he was recently
released from prison.
The blond Genie was named Sammy. It was such an innocent name,
completely in contrast to the horrendous crimes I knew Sammy committed.
He had convinced a high-up political figure, Geneive, to eradicate every
human in her territory, as if we were a disease. And that was how the humans
died - with diseases wished for by Geneive and granted by Sammy.
My stomach churned, and my hands curled into claws. I wanted nothing
more than to run at those monsters and stab them with one of my many
daggers.
In time, I told myself. Karma was a bitch.
An imposing man with graying hair and broad shoulders stepped onto a
small stage set up near the center of the field. He wore a black robe with a
blood red hood, indicating him as a delegate, if not the head delegate, of the
Vampires.
“Good evening.” His voice was as icy as his features. His lips were curled
downwards, as if he was disgusted by the sight before him. For the first time,
I couldn’t blame him. “Welcome to The Damning.”
Hoots and cheers erupted from the masses, and I resisted the urge to roll
my eyes. Did they not realize that all of us, but one, we
re going to die? I sure
as hell realized that. My death was imminent, as was theirs. I could only hope
I went down fighting.
“Every five years, we have The Damning to select our new assassin and
torturer.”
Oh joy.
Though my thought was sarcastic, the enthusiastic cheer that emitted
from the crowd was very much sincere. I was surrounded by a bunch of
psychopaths, all intent on being the last man standing. Fun. Fun.
“There will be one competition, one trial, one chance to prove yourself as
the most worthy. The pride and joy of the Kingdoms.”
Way to butter up the crowd.
“The competition is simple: a fight to the death. In a span of two months,
all but one competitor must be dead. The remaining man will receive fortunes
beyond his wildest dreams and a chance to serve his kingdom.”
The crowd began to murmur amongst one another. I saw a set of twins
exchange careful, calculated glances.
“Now I know what some of you are thinking. The easiest solution, and
consequently the safest, would be to hide away like cowards. I would like to
inform you that one of the requirements of being the winner is having five
kills yourself. No outside help.”
He allowed that to sink in, cold eyes roaming over each face in the crowd.
He paused when his eyes rested on me, and even from this distance, I could
see his brow quirk. Just as quickly, his expression smoothed over to be
replaced with indifference.
“Five kills. Two months. Last one standing, wins. All competitors are
required to stay at the Capital until The Damning ends. Are there any
questions?”
This felt more like a damn lecture at school than a fight-to-the-death
announcement.
The silence in the field was suddenly pronounced. Charged, almost, as if
an electrical current was running rampant through the air. I felt myself shift
from one foot to the other, searching for any person that moved too quickly,
moved too suddenly. I may be fated to die, but I wasn’t ready to die yet. Give
it a few weeks.
“No questions? Then I would like to formally declare that The Damning
has commenced!”
The cheers from the crowd were sudden and roaring. My hands were
clammy by my sides. Two words echoed through my head, over and over
again like a song on repeat.
Fuck me.
Before I could even move, a dagger flew through the air, landing directly
in Sammy’s forehead. The Genie’s eyes glazed over, mouth parting as if he
was preparing to scream, before he crumpled to the ground.
I froze, staring at the body only a few feet away from me. Blood coated
the ground, as bright as the Vampire’s cloak. He was dead. The legendary
Sammy was dead, brought down by a simple knife to the head.
In the distance, eyes cold as he surveyed the body, was Zack. Without a
word, he grabbed the dagger from Sammy’s body and wiped the blood on his
pants.
“One down. Ninety-eight to go.”
EIGHT
Z
Iwas attacked approximately two times on the way back to my bedroom.
The first one was in the form of a dagger, nicking my ear as it flew
through the air and impaled itself into the wall. I immediately went on
alert, surveying the halls for the source. The only indication that someone had
been near was a flash of blue from the now opened window.
The coward had left. He hadn’t even been willing to face me. At least, I
thought, slightly sardonically, he had poor aim.
The second attack consisted of two Shifters cornering me in the hallway.
After I rendered one of the men unconscious, the other had changed his focus
and had ripped the throat out of his fallen comrade.
Apparently, not even alliances were sacred in this game.
By the time I was back in my room, my hair was disheveled and Shifter
blood coated my clothes. Diego and Mali both glanced up from where they
were chatting on my bed. Diego was only wearing a towel - that asshole had
used my shower. Mine. If he used all of the hot water, I was going to castrate
him.
“What the hell happened?” Mali screeched, running towards me. Her
nostrils flared as she took in the splotches of blood, and relief was evident in
her sagging body when she concluded that the blood wasn’t mine. “What
happened?”
“I take it that The Damning didn’t go well?” Diego drawled lethargically.
He sprawled out on my bed, still dressed in only a towel, and propped
himself up on his elbows.
“Wow. You don’t fucking say,” I quipped.
I really needed a shower.
Pressing the button on my necklace, the disguise disappeared leaving only
“Zara” in a white, blood-stained dress and messy blond ringlets.
Unfortunately, Diego’s spell didn’t magically cleanse me of all the blood.
Shame. That would’ve been handy. And hugely profitable.
Maybe I could convince Diego to invest in an assassin/serial-killer store. I
could see the tagline now: BLOOD BE GONE!
Smiling wickedly, I stripped out of my dress until I was standing in the
center of the room, naked. Neither Mali nor Diego even blinked. That was a
surprise. Usually, Diego would’ve taken this opportunity to make a remark
about my sexy, but emotionally unavailable, body. He must’ve really been
worried. I summarized the events of the day.
“The Damning is a fight to the death. Two months. Five kills required.
Fun times.”
“We need to leave,” Mali said suddenly. She anxiously chewed on her
bottom lip, teeth sharpening into keen points as it always did when she
experienced a heightened emotion.
“We can’t leave.”
Walking into the bathroom, I absently scanned the toiletries provided. I
needed body wash, shampoo, and a nice razor. If I was going to die, I’d be
damned if I died hairy.
“Then you can only be Zara. Not Z. Never Z,” she proclaimed, following
me into the bathroom. Her voice gained more conviction as she spoke. I eyed
her, grabbing a fluffy white towel and a delicious smelling bottle of shampoo.
It was a shampoo designed specifically for men, but I wasn’t going to be
picky. Anything was better than the sweet aroma of copper.
“These competitors are monsters, and they have to be stopped,” I
reasoned. Without looking back at her, I fiddled with one of the many dials in
the shower. Warm water immediately rained down, and I smiled contently.
Stepping fully into the small box, I allowed the water to cascade over my
skin. It felt wonderful. Almost better than sex.
Almost.
And ten times better than shower sex. I never understood that appeal. For
one, it was difficult to find a shower large enough to fit both persons
participating in such an...activity. Secondly, there was this little thing called
“height difference” that was often overlooked. Men failed to realize that they
had to aim lower than they anticipated. And don’t even get me started on the
slippery floors.
“Are you even listening?” Mali’s voice bordered on a scream, as if she
couldn’t d
ecide if she wanted to be angry or amused.
“I know what you’re going to say,” I said. “And I know what the risks of
staying are. I know that there’s a good chance that I’m going to die. And you
know what? I’m okay with that. If I die, I don’t want it to be fucking
passively. I want to...I don’t...okay, look. I want to make a difference, and not
just build a shitty home for the poor type of difference. I want lives to be
saved. I want the world to be better because, let’s face it, the world currently
sucks ass. I want...look, this world is full of monsters. To some, I might even
be considered one. And I’m okay with that. Humans are a dying breed, and I
want us to survive and…I don’t even know what I’m saying. Ignore me.”
Some people were capable of giving eloquent speeches at the snap of a
finger, but they were far and few between. Realistically? People were
blubbering messes. I couldn’t even tell you what I had just said let alone if it
made any sense.
The silence was almost stifling. It was Mali who broke it first, voice terse.
“Fine. I’m going to message B and let him know the plan. Will you two
be good here alone?”
“Don’t worry. I can protect Diego,” I teased. I heard him make a rather
unflattering remark.
“Rude,” he hissed.
“True,” Mali and I both pointed out. I heard rather than saw my bedroom
door open and close once again.
“You know,” Diego began conversationally once Mali had left. “She’s
only worried because she cares.”
“I realize that.” I tilted my head back, water pelting my face. “But she
does understand my job description, right? People like me don’t have long
lifespans.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice was as serious as I had ever heard it.
“It’s true. I knew what I was getting myself into when I signed on.”
“You didn’t sign your fucking death certificate, Z. Stop thinking like
that,” he snapped. Turning my head, I could see his silhouette through the
foggy shower screen, pacing across my bedroom floor in irritation.
“I’m an assassin Diego. It’s a kill or be killed type of world.”
He would never understand. Not only was he not human - not a species so
low on the totem pole that we were considered scum - but he also wasn’t an
assassin. Extensive training had to be undertaken before you could be