Greed (The Damning Book 1)

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Greed (The Damning Book 1) Page 13

by Katie May


  otherworldly.

  And an added bonus? I didn’t immediately want to kill him. That could

  change, though, once I deciphered which side he was on. For all I knew, he

  was a fellow assassin or Assistant looking to gather information on Z. I didn’t

  recognize his name or face from the files though, but Incubi were masters at

  disguises.

  Despite my suspicions, I didn’t detect anything other than sincerity in his

  words. There were no malicious undertones, no threats. I trusted my intuition

  with my life, and just then, it told me to trust this Nightmare just like it had

  told me yesterday to trust the Mermaid. I should’ve been terrified of him. He

  could, in a matter of seconds, turn me into a withering mess of nerves and

  sexual tension. He could make me orgasm with the snap of his fingers.

  While an Incubus’s power may have seemed less than the power of the

  other Nightmares, it was still immensely dangerous, perhaps even more so.

  There was something frightening about the loss of control Incubi evoked

  within you. Your body suddenly wasn’t your own; your emotions didn’t

  correspond with your desires.

  That aspect, the loss of free-will, was terrifying.

  And slightly familiar to me.

  The Incubus - Killian - rubbed a hand through his hair. The pale red,

  almost garnet, colored strands stood on end. His mouth opened -

  And abruptly snapped closed as a dagger flew through the air, catching

  him in the shoulder.

  I gasped, spinning around with my hands raised despite the fact that I was

  supposed to be Zara the Assistant, not Z the assassin.

  Nobody was allowed to harm Killian.

  I didn’t know where that thought came from, only that it was true. I

  imagined I would’ve felt something similar if the person had been Mali or

  Diego.

  The Shadow materialized mere feet away from me, axe raised as he

  prepared to deliver the killing blow onto Killian’s prone form.

  “For Aaliyah,” he whispered.

  Before I realized what was happening - before I stopped to think about

  anything other than saving Killian - I pounced on the Shadow, my own

  dagger raised.

  I wasn’t thinking coherently at the time. All I could focus on was the

  blood seeping through Killian’s fingers, at his wide-eyes staring up at the

  assassin, at his face turning paler and paler as the blood cascaded down his

  stomach. I recognized the assassin, vaguely, as a member of The Damning. I

  couldn’t recall his name nor why he had been chosen. For all I knew, he

  could’ve been like me: a good man at heart sent to kill the horrors that ruled

  our world.

  At one point, I might’ve even helped him end the Incubus’s life. But I

  wasn’t thinking clearly, wasn’t able to see beyond the red sheen of anger that

  coated my vision.

  The Shadow would pay for harming what was mine.

  Blood sprayed on the white carpeting. My dagger sunk deeper and deeper

  into the Shadow’s jugular, his gargled screams muted by the blood filling his

  mouth. His eyes, full of shock and despair, gazed at me helplessly. He clawed

  at my arms and face, his nails ripping at my skin. Still, I didn’t release him.

  As I felt his energy deplete and his body go limp, I prayed that I would be

  forgiven. We were one and the same, after all, though we apparently fought

  the Nightmares for different reasons. But he had hurt Killian...an Incubus that

  I barely even knew yet felt protective towards. This was purely my one

  chance at retribution.

  Now that the threat was eliminated, I scrambled to my knees besides

  Killian. He was gaping at me, eyes volleying between the dagger protruding

  from the Shadow’s neck and my blood-soaked clothes.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered harshly, removing his hands from the

  wound to assess it myself.

  “How did you…? You killed him!”

  I didn’t dare meet his eyes. For reasons unknown to me, I couldn’t bear to

  see the disgust and judgement I knew would be evident in his gaze.

  “Incubi heal with sexual energy, correct?” I asked, ignoring his question.

  “Who can I grab for you?”

  The words were difficult to get past my suddenly dried throat. The

  thought of anyone touching him made me sick to my stomach. And slightly

  murderous.

  “I’ll be fine,” he grunted.

  “You’re not fine! Who can I grab to help speed up the healing?”

  Finally - finally - I dared to glance up at him. His eyes were fixated on

  me, but instead of the disgust I had expected, there was only fascination in

  his gaze. He stared at me as if I was a fine piece of silk he longed to

  purchase. He stared at me as if I, in my blood soaked clothes and with my

  spaghetti hair, was the most beautiful girl he had ever set eyes upon. My

  heart thundered against my rib cage.

  “I could…” My voice croaked, this time for an entirely different reason.

  “I could help you.”

  I was offering myself to an Incubus?

  What the hell was the matter with me?

  I didn’t know the answer to that, but I did know with absolute certainty

  that I longed to heal him, both physically and emotionally. It was similar to

  what I felt with Lin and even what I felt with Dair.

  “You don’t…” His cheeks burned brightly even as he grimaced with pain.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  I felt suddenly shy, and I imagined my face was just as red as his. There

  was a dead body only a couple feet away, and we were discussing...well...I

  wasn’t entirely certain what we were discussing.

  “Would kissing you help?” I asked timidly, and his Adam’s apple bobbed

  as he swallowed.

  “Yes.”

  I kept my eyes locked on his as I leaned forward, and he tilted his head

  down. Our lips met in the sweetest, most innocent kiss imaginable. His lips

  tentatively moved against mine.

  Unsure.

  Inexperienced.

  “Is this okay?” I asked against his lips.

  His answer was a grunt.

  “Yes.”

  Sensing hesitancy on his part, I slid my tongue between his lips. His body

  tensed beneath mine before he returned the kiss, meeting me stroke to stroke.

  His hand slid over my back and into my hair, the touch as light as a moth’s

  wing. He held me as if I was breakable glass, as if he was terrified I would

  shatter to pieces at the mere application of pressure.

  I grabbed one of his hands and held it just above my breast, giving him

  permission to touch me there if he so desired. He let out a moan of pure bliss,

  hesitantly groping my heavy mound. I mewled like a cat when his fingers

  pinched my nipple beneath my shirt.

  Note to self: don’t wear bras anymore.

  My panties were soaked, and I wanted his hand down there. Or his

  tongue. Or his dick that I could feel pressing against my stomach.

  He pulled away from me with a blistering speed. His eyes were wild.

  “I...I’m healed now.”

  He scrambled to his feet, his arousal plainly evident through his pants.

  “I neeeddd to go.”

  And then he left.

 
; The bastard fucking left me alone with a wet pussy and a dead body.

  Maybe I should’ve just let him die.

  SEVENTEEN

  BASH

  The two girls were arguing over the effectiveness of a particular plant

  in healing. Arguing over a fucking plant.

  I placed my head into my hands, unable to decide if I was amused

  or annoyed. It was only a night ago when I had taken both girls to my bed...at

  the same time. While they had seemed to enjoy it, I found myself wishing it

  was over. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. My magic had been

  running haywire since The Matching had commenced. One second I would

  be minding my own business, and the next tiny flowers would be growing or

  sparks would emit from my fingertips. I had tried to talk to my father about it,

  but he had lazily waved me away.

  It was too time-consuming for him to have a five-minute conversation

  with his only child, apparently. I considered talking to my brothers about my

  predicament, but I didn’t want to hear what they had to say. I was irrationally

  pissed at my brothers. No amount of booze could soothe the anger I felt.

  Dair, with his droopy, wistful expression.

  Devlin with the fucking half-smile on his face.

  Lupe and his damn soliloquies.

  Ryland and his stalker tendencies.

  Jax’s tingly blood.

  Killian’s damn boner.

  All of my brothers had found their mates. Was I supposed to feel happy

  for them? Proud? All I felt was an incandescent fury at the cruel world and a

  smothering depression at my own misfortune.

  Frowning, I took another swig from my beer bottle. I was already slightly

  buzzed, despite it being still early in the morning.

  The Matching was in full-swing. Women from all across the world were

  being groomed to be our future wives. If we didn’t find our mates in a year,

  these horrid, superficial girls would become our futures.

  Correction, if I didn’t find my mate in a year, one of these horrid,

  superficial girls would become my future.

  I had followed them out to the garden where Mrs. G was discussing the

  usage of plants in medicine, hence the reason for the argument between

  Lover 1 and Lover 2.

  I glanced at the two girls once more, brow furrowing in confusion. They

  were attractive, I would give them that, but they didn’t cause me to melt into

  a puddle of lust. I had tried taking both of them. Hell, I had even tried having

  them take each other while I watched.

  Nada.

  Not even a little jump from my flaccid dick.

  Was I embarrassed that I couldn’t get off while two beautiful women

  attempted to pleasure me? Maybe. If anything, I was confused and slightly

  concerned.

  I didn’t know what I would do with myself if my dick was broken. I

  needed it almost as much as I needed food and water. A world without my

  dick was not a world I wanted to live in.

  And then I thought of the other reason. The reason I knew my brothers

  would bring up if I discussed my problem with them.

  I could hear them now.

  “Most Mages,” Lupe would say, an imperious set to his chin. He would

  clear his throat before beginning once again. “Most Mages would be

  incapable of being with anyone other than their mate. That would also

  explain your unpredictable powers. She’s here. In the Capital.” It would also

  explain my dreams, though no one knew about them. Hopefully, I could keep

  it that way.

  Killian would probably gripe that he wasn’t the only one with an

  unworking dick. Personally, I would rather have my cock hard all the time

  than the limp fucking noodle it was now.

  Jax would say some weird-ass shit that had nothing to do with anything.

  And the others? They would give me a knowing smirk, as if they

  themselves weren’t whipped by females they barely knew.

  I didn’t want a mate. Never had and never would. Why would I want to

  be tied down for the rest of my life? That sounded about as appealing to me

  as jabbing my eye out with a rusty needle would’ve been. I didn’t believe in

  love, and love was the foundation for mates. Lust and infatuation, maybe, but

  love? Supernaturals believed that our mates originated before we were even

  created. A soul was split into two in the early stages of development and then

  were separated when we came to earth. For our entire existence, we would

  look for the other half of us, the person that would make us complete. Half

  the time, we never even knew that we were supposed to be looking. We never

  even knew that we were empty until that person came into our lives like a

  freight train.

  Bull shit.

  Love didn’t exist.

  And mates? They were an absence of free-will and choice.

  Frowning once more, I took another swig of alcohol. I had just woken up,

  and I was already dying to go back to sleep again. My eyelids drooped, and

  my head lolled against my shoulders. At least after I dreamt, I would be able

  to find some release.

  “WHY ARE YOU HERE?” she asked, tone husky. My dick hardened,

  pleased by the heat evident in her eyes. She looked so beautiful sprawled out

  on my bed. Perfect.

  And mine.

  “Why did the cock cross the road?” I asked instead, basking in the giggle

  that followed my question. She had never struck me as the giggling type of

  female. It still did funny things to me when I heard such a magical sound.

  “Why did it cross the road?” she finally caved.

  I held my dick in one hand as my eyes surveyed her perfect body. She still

  wore a flimsy robe, and her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders like

  golden silk. She was so beautiful that my heart physically ached when I

  looked at her.

  “To get to the backside,” I said, grabbing her tiny waist and spinning her

  around. She squealed, the sound making my already hard cock twitch. The

  movement forced her robe up, revealing her golden ass to me.

  We talked about this a few times. I knew for a fact she had done it with

  the others...and liked it. I also knew that my girl was a kinky shit. She would

  love it if I were to call one of the guys back into the room. One in the front,

  and one in the back. We may not have swung that way with each other, but

  we all agreed that seeing the lust in her eyes was worth it.

  Maybe next time I would allow one of them to join us. For now? She was

  mine.

  Every last piece of her.

  I WOKE WITH A GASP, heart hammering in my chest. The garden was

  empty, save for a few critters exploring the grounds.

  What the fuck?

  This wasn’t the first time I had dreamt of her, this mysterious girl. One

  time, we had been making love. I had held her so tenderly in my hands, as if

  she was my entire world. She had stared back at me with something I would

  almost describe as love.

  Almost. If I didn’t know how unloveable of a bastard I was, I would say it

  was that emotion. But it couldn’t be. I didn’t love, and I didn’t expect anyone

  to ever love me in return.

  In some of my dreams, we were doing nothing but talking and laughing.

  Others, I was pounding
into her.

  And always, I would wake up with a raging boner that could only be

  soothed by my good old friend, Mr. Hand. I would imagine her perfect lips

  wrapped around my cock and explode.

  Today was no different, though I felt slightly awkward jacking off in the

  middle of a garden on a stone bench. Still, I welcomed the release, and I came

  with a loud cry.

  Once that... situation…was handled (get it? Hand led?), I tucked my now

  flaccid dick back into my pants and headed inside. Father was probably

  looking for me by now. He may have been the king, but he was a lazy son of

  a bitch. Responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders at a very young age. It

  was nearly staggering, the weight he put on me, and I wanted nothing more

  than to drown beneath it.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” a strident voice demanded the second I

  stepped foot into the Capital. Devlin hurried towards me, eyes wild and

  mouth pursed. His violet eyes locked on mine.

  “Hello to you too,” I drawed lazily. Sue me for being a cynical bastard,

  but I wasn’t in the mood to talk with any of my brothers, particularly Devlin.

  He was an asshole on the best of days - his protective instincts even worse

  than Lupe’s - but lately, he had been something else entirely. Moody and

  brooding and dickish. He was quicker to snap than previously, and he always

  looked moderately constipated. I knew he was angry at the world. I couldn’t

  entirely fault him on that. He had once admitted to me - after I had gotten him

  wasted on Fairy Wine - that he had found his mate but had been forced to

  leave her. Apparently, she had fallen in love with a human shortly after he

  had left.

  Another reason why I didn’t want a mate. Bitches were never loyal.

  The bond was supposed to be unbreakable; the two individuals connected

  by such a string were supposedly inseparable. To know that it could be so

  easily broken, or at least ignored, gutted me and shattered the wistful

  fantasies I had held since I was a child. Younger me had been a hopeless

  romantic...and a dumbass.

  “Killian’s been stabbed,” Devlin said through clenched teeth. I could tell

  his anger wasn’t directed at me but the situation. At his words, I felt my body

  grow cold.

  “Is he…?” I couldn’t bear to finish that question. If something were to

  happen to my brother, my best friend, I would murder everyone in this god-

 

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