by Katie May
“Thank you.” My breathing was embarrassingly loud. Hand trembling, I
retracted the knife from where it could easily slash his neck.
“Your Incubus is taking credit for your kill,” he continued, the change of
topic momentarily taking me off guard. “Why is he protecting you?”
I didn’t know how to answer such a question nor did I wish to. Why
would the Incubus protect me and my identity? How did Ryland even know
that?
“Maybe because I’m special,” I breathed, finally daring to open up my
eyes. For just a brief second, I saw his face. I didn’t know if it was because
he was so engrossed in our conversation that he forgot to hold the shadows
around him or if he just assumed I would keep my eyes closed.
All I could do was gape at him, shocked by what I was seeing.
His expression shattered, the coy smirk giving way to unreadability.
Before I could inquire on what I had seen, the shadows returned, once again
obscuring his features from view. I could feel his eyes penetrating my scalp,
and I opened my mouth helplessly. I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but it
didn’t seem to matter. The Shadow disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
I closed my eyes and focused, listening to his footsteps as he hurried
down the hall.
What type of person was I? He was the second man to have ran from me
in a very short time-span. I thought through hundreds of statements I
could’ve said, but each one seemed superficial in the grand scheme of things.
I didn’t know if words were even necessary for what I saw.
Sometimes, silence was louder than thousands of false condolences.
But what I had seen…
I didn’t know how to even put it into words.
I heard the loud footsteps a second before a girl appeared around the
corner.
“Holy shit! Are you okay?”
I tensed, surveying the female in front of me. She had orange hair that
curled down her back. Her shoulders were broad and muscular, and her face
was lightly freckled. Her green eyes were anxiously scanning my blood-
stained clothes in what appeared to be horror.
“Yup,” I said cheerily. “I was helping my assassin, Z, clean up a body.”
Did that make me sound psycho? Probably. In my defense, I was
struggling to come up with a reasonable explanation for why I was coated in
blood, wearing nothing but a robe, in the hallway.
Oh no big deal. I just murdered a Shadow to protect an Incubus because
I’m actually Z the assassin and not Zara the Assistant.
Yeah. That would go over well.
“Z?” She quirked a brow at me. “Your his Assistant?”
Once again, it was nearly impossible to miss the connotation behind that
seemingly innocent word. I could see the wheels turning in her head, coming
to the same conclusion that countless others already had. Slut. Whore.
I hated those terms, even if they weren’t true. There was nothing wrong
with a woman enjoying lots of sex. Men did it all the time, so why should
women have different standards?
“Lupe is not going to like this,” she muttered.
“Huh?”
Ignoring me, she smiled widely, revealing two rows of perfectly white
teeth.
“My name is Atta, and I’m the princess of the Shifters.”
Princess.
Shifters.
Shifters.
My mind drifted to S. A Shifter had killed him, had taken the man I loved
away from me. This girl, this Atta, was standing mere inches from me.
I wanted to kill her.
I wanted to take my knife, stab it into her black heart, and rid the world of
another Nightmare. How dare she smile so serenely at me when her species
had taken everything from me? It was her father that had designed and
implemented hundreds of human concentration camps. If she was anything
like that monster of a man, she deserved to die.
I could barely breathe as I stared at her. Red coated my vision. Still, Atta
continued on, utterly oblivious to the direction my thoughts had headed.
“I would like to invite you to the dinner tonight,” she said in a sing-song
voice. “My brother will be there.” At this, her eyes watched me carefully, as
if gauging my reaction.
Murderer.
Monster.
Shifter.
Those words were one and the same to me.
“Z will also be there, of course, for it is a dinner designed for competitors
of The Damning and The Matching.” Her voice stumbled over my real name.
Murderer.
Monster.
Shifter.
I still had the knife in my hand from my confrontation with Ryland. It
would only take a second to stick it in her chest. One second.
“So are you interested?”
I slowly raised my hand-
-only to have it pulled back down and behind my back. Mali wrapped her
arm around me, flashing Atta a bright smile.
“She will love to! Isn’t that right Zara?”
My best friend was barely breathing. Her eyes were fixated on Atta,
expression indecipherable. Atta stared back, but her attention was narrowed
on Mali’s arm around me. The air practically seemed to shimmer with
tension. It was enough to pull me out of my murderous daze.
Mali looked away first, brows crinkled with confusion. She tugged at my
arm and pulled me in the direction of my room.
“She’ll be there!” Mali said with forced cheerfulness. I dared to glance
back at Atta, the Shifter, only to find her staring after us with an indefinable
expression. It almost appeared to be hope and longing, but for what I
wouldn’t be able to tell you. Either way, she was lucky Mali had arrived
when she did or else I probably would’ve killed her.
NINETEEN
Z
“No way in hell,” I hissed the second I stepped into my room.
“No way. No.”
Mali folded her arms, expression calculative as she
watched me from the doorway. All I could see was red. I was positively livid
- at the Shifter, at the world, even at my best friend.
“How the hell am I supposed to go to the dinner tonight as Zara when I’m
supposed to be going as Z?” I hissed, shoving a hand through my blond hair.
I had yet to shower, and I was sure I smelled something awful. “Why did you
agree for me to go?”
“Because I panicked!” Mali threw her hands into the air in exasperation.
“When the crowned princess asks you to go to dinner, you fucking go to
dinner!”
Her lip turned down as she spoke, her nose scrunching up as if she had
eaten something sour. I wondered if Mali knew this Shifter princess. That
was the only reason I could think to explain the tightening of her eyes and the
pursing of her lips.
“So what do you suppose we do?” I asked sarcastically. I was Z...but I
was also Zara. I didn’t know how she expected me to be at two places at the
same time. Not even a Mage could solve this problem.
“It’s easy.” She moved further into the spacious room and parted the
heavy curtain. All I could see was her profile as she surveyed something
through the window. “Diego will be Z.”
“Diego?” I asked
, sure she was joking. Diego was a lot of things, but a
badass assassin wasn’t one of them. He relied on HH to take care of him
almost religiously. He blamed his chronic laziness on his Sloth genes. I
blamed it on the man himself. “Diego stabbed himself accidentally with a
toothpick and was in the hospital for a week.”
Mali grunted. “I know, but-”
“He once started a building on fire from a fart. From a fucking fart. Who
does that?”
“It was the mating call-”
“And don’t even get me started on the peanut butter incident.”
“I feel verbally abused Zarakins,” Diego purred, stepping out of my
bathroom. He was, once again, wrapped in only a towel.
“Did you use my shower again?” I said through gritted teeth. “And don’t
call me that.”
“Baby girl. Relax. It’s just a dinner.”
At that, I let out a bark of laughter.
“Just a dinner? There will the most sick, twisted, psychotic men in
existence at this dinner. They kill people, innocent people, and like it. They
kill children, rape women, blow-up schools. And I’m willing to bet you
money that they will attack at this dinner. Poison the drinks, perhaps? A knife
to the throat? Brute force?” The more I spoke, the more I felt my resolve
strengthening. I would never again put the people I loved at risk. It had
already happened once with S. Guilt churned in my stomach like lead,
weighing me down until I was practically falling through the floor.
Guilt wasn’t just an emotion, but a way of being. It was the thing that
prohibited you from getting out of bed in the morning. It was the vice around
your wrists that held you captive. It was the inability to see light in the
darkness of the world.
If something were to happen to Diego or Mali, it would destroy me. S’s
death had been a knife to my heart, but their death would be the equivalent of
someone twisting the handle. I didn’t know if I could, or even wanted to,
survive it.
“Out of the question,” I said, moving to my desk. A few of my favorite
knives were spread out, each one looking keen and terrifying in the natural
light from the opened window.
“Z…” When I didn’t turn towards Diego, he grabbed my shoulders and
gave them a shake. “Look at me.”
I stubbornly refused, eyes glued to the collection of penetratingly sharp
weapons. Diego’s gentle hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up.
“You feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, but let
me help you. Let me hold a fraction of what you have been carrying. I know
it’s been hard since S, but you’re not alone anymore. You’ll never be alone
with us. Trust me. Trust Mali. Trust yourself. I’m not completely inept at
fighting, and I truly don’t believe anything is going to happen tonight. If it
does, you’ll be right there. You can protect me, protect us all, like you always
do.”
His words resonated within me, and I wanted desperately to believe him.
I had been alone for so long. Everyone had abandoned me - my parents, Lin,
and S. It had never occurred to me that my fears were selfish until that
moment. I was afraid of a lot of things, the biggest one being abandonment.
People came into your life only to leave you, a revolving door of false
promises and fake assurances. Every story I had ended that way. I had never
been capable of writing it myself; I was a player that someone else controlled,
a shell of a woman drifting through life. It wasn’t as if I expected a happy
ending, but was it too much to ask for people to stay with me?
“I…” I trailed off, unsure how to express what I felt. Diego’s eyes was
earnest as he held my own captive.
“Trust us to handle it,” he said softly. “Trust us.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever I was going to say. Both Diego
and I jumped, his hands instantly leaving my shoulders. Mali blanched at the
sound, muscles tensing as if she expected a monster to be on the other side of
the door. A monster...or a Nightmare.
Throwing both Diego and Mali a warning look, I hesitantly pulled open
the heavy door. Mali instantly relaxed when she saw who was there, and
Diego’s eyes popped out of his head.
The Incubus from before stood in the doorway, his muscular body
blocking the hallway from view. My tongue turned into sandpaper in my
mouth as I took in his exquisite body. The tattoos wrapping around his
muscular forearms, the shock of red hair, the surprisingly kind eyes…
I had to physically pinch myself to stop ogling him like a perverted
schoolgirl. Once my initial lust waned, I was left with an elemental fury
directed at this very sexy man.
“What the hell Killian? Why did you just leave me?”
After we had kissed.
After I had saved your life.
After your hands had pulled at my hair, our mouths merging together. We
had been one at that moment.
And I hated it. Hated him.
Frankly, I was a spiteful cynic. Sue me.
“I’m sorry,” he sputtered. “I just panicked.”
I wasn’t stupid. I realized he had a stutter. However, it was barely
noticeable to me. I reasoned it was because my father had a stutter as well,
though my memories of him were blurry at best. I could still hear his voice,
though, as it broke through the confines of my mind where I held the
remnants of my parents and S.
“You panicked?” I asked coldly, crossing my arms over my chest and
resting my hip against the doorframe. Killian gulped.
“I’m not the most experienced,” he managed to say at last. Despite how
laughable that statement was - I mean, look at him - there was nothing but
sincerity in his voice. His thick lashes fluttered against his cheeks, and I
realized that he was waiting for me to judge him. To laugh at him. To turn
him away.
I didn’t know how I knew that, only that I did. My heart warred with my
mind over how to handle this precarious situation we found ourselves in.
Why did I have the strangest urge to invite him inside? To soothe his fears? I
went from hating all Nightmares besides Mali and Diego to actively wanting
to hug one. What was wrong with me?
“I would like to make it up to you,” he said at last. His eyes were warm as
they grazed my face, the path leaving behind a trail of heat. I felt my cheeks
flame at his scrutiny.
“Is she blushing?” I heard Diego whisper to Mali, and fortunately, she
had the brains to punch him.
“You want to make it up to me?” I said coyly, straightening my back. I
willed my cheeks to return to their normal color. “How do you suppose you’ll
do that?”
“Lunch, maybe? One of my friends has a car here. I could ask him for the
keys...or we could eat here. Whichever you prefer.”
Did he just...did he just ask me out?
An Incubus?
And was I actually thinking about saying yes?
“Get that ass,” I heard Diego mutter. Once again, he was punched by
Mali.
“Fine,” I said at last, shocking even myself. I heard Mali’s sharp intake of
<
br /> breath, and Diego’s rather dramatic gasp. They acted as if I was agreeing to
partake in a ritualistic sacrifice, not go out to lunch with an Incubus. Geez.
Killian blinked at me, as if stunned I had agreed.
Same, man. Same.
I told myself I was only meeting with him to gauge how much he knew
about my true identity. He was a stranger, a Nightmare, and I would more
than happily end him once I got all of the information I needed. If he knew
too much, I would not hesitate to kill him.
“An Incubus with a stutter,” Diego commented as I stepped around him,
reaching for my purse. Unbeknownst to the Incubus, I had numerous knives
and daggers within the pink fabric. If he were to try anything, I would end
him in seconds.
A girl had to be prepared.
“Don’t,” I warned Diego, slightly defensive. Irrationally defensive, if I
was being completely honest with myself. I didn’t know why it bothered me
to hear Diego make fun of Killian, only that it did.
Turning away from my Mage best friend, I flashed Killian a cautious
smile. I had to be careful with a man like him. Someone who looked that
good could only bring trouble. I wasn’t worried about protecting my heart -
he could never have it the way I had once given it away - but one glance, and
I was ready to relinquish my body to him. I was a quivering puddle of lust
whenever he opened those big, pouty lips. When he smiled? It was like a
cloud moving away from the sun.
“Let’s go,” I said, stepping around him and into the hall. Killian
immediately followed behind, bouncing on the balls of his feet. I didn’t know
if it was an anxious tick or if he just possessed an abundant amount of
energy. Either way, I found his energy infectious.
“So…” I trailed off, unsure of what I wanted to say. How could I possibly
ask him everything I wanted to? If he didn’t know that I was actually Z, I
didn’t want to give it away. If he did, what would it take him to remain quiet?
Questions pounded inside of my skull, in tandem to my rapidly beating heart.
One thing was for certain: Killian was dangerous.
“I ran into a wall yesterday,” he blurted, cheeks turning scarlet at his
unintentional confession. Despite his strange that statement was, I found
myself amused, if but moderately curious.
“How did that happen?”
He shrugged. “Walking.”
