ENVY
THE DAMNING
KATIE MAY
Copyright © 2019 by Katie May
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
Created with Vellum
To Grandma and Grandpa, thank you for letting me stay at your house and
write without distractions
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Other Books by Katie May
Acknowledgments
About the Author
First Chapter of Darkness We Crave!
First Chapter of Gangs and Ghosts!
PROLOGUE
MALI
Iskirted the old well Z and I used to play at, now boarded up, before
dashing into the forest.
The forest once brought me comfort. The trees, tall enough to brush
the skyline, and the animals scurrying through the brush. Like all Vampires, I
was drawn to the living. Some might argue that it was merely a pull towards
a food source, but I begged to differ.
Vampires loved the living because we were death incarnate.
Stumbling over the trim of my gown, I found myself in front of an
unfamiliar cabin. The windows were unwashed, cracked in some places, and
the wood was beginning to deteriorate with age. Still, the formidable building
resembled a mansion to me and my tired body.
With considerable effort, I dragged myself up the stone staircase and onto
the wrap around porch. I waited, using my Vampiric hearing, but detected no
Breaths sawing in and out from the marathon I had just run, I stepped
through the door.
The inside was just as dilapidated as the outside. Worn rugs, tearing on
the edges, adorned the mahogany floorboards. A single hearth was lit in the
entrance, the flames flickering and casting strange shadows on the walls.
Alone at last, I settled on the ground and pulled out the arrow that had
lodged itself into my leg. I had heard rumors of the Before time - before
Nightmares came into play - and that the humans had used guns and bullets. I
couldn’t imagine such a weapon when something as simple as a bow and
arrow was able to incapacitate a newly-fed Vampire. The Council was full of
assholes, but they had done one thing right when they had banned weapons
worse than a knife.
Cursing, I removed the wooden arrow and tossed it into the fire. The
flames hissed but eagerly ate at its treat.
I allowed my mind to wander.
How did my life turn so fucked up? I had thought that I had everything - a
best friend, two mates, a job. And it all shattered around me with the finesse
of a bull trampling through a china shop.
A sob lodged in my throat when I thought about Diego. His body lying
limp on the ground, drenched in his own blood. The gurgling noises escaping
from his lips. The tears in his eyes.
I closed my own eyes as if that could somehow rid me of the horrendous
images.
And then Z’s face, the accusal in her gaze. The hatred. She could’ve
killed me. I wanted her to.
Because of me, Diego was dead. Because of me, my mate was dead.
Zack. The person who was designed to be the other half of my soul.
Or, at least, a third of it.
My mind flittered to Atta the last time I had seen her. Her red hair
framing her face as she leaned down to kiss my neck. Her small hand
kneading my breasts, tweaking my nipples. I hadn’t been with a woman
before, but she had made it as easy as breathing. As my tongue eagerly
lapped at her slit, and her head rolled backwards, I knew I was in love. That
love was only reconfirmed when she had returned the favor, our breasts
bouncing against one another as our bodies moved.
I had thought that if I were to be with any girl, it would be Z. I would be
the first to admit that I was in love with my best friend, despite my previous
conquests only being men. I would imagine her always. Under me. On top of
me. Her heavy breasts bouncing in my face.
I had been jealous when she had found her mates, irrationally so. Maybe
things would’ve been different if I could’ve just supported my best friend. I
had been so bitter, so angry, that I hadn’t once told her about Zack and me.
When he had been with me, he hadn’t been a monster. There was so much
gentle anxiety on his face, so much reverence, as he kissed down my body.
Who would’ve known the monster that lurked underneath?
When Z had cast me out, she had thought she had saved me from death.
But she was wrong.
Where would a Vampire that had been forsaken by her own kind go? I
had worked with the human assassins, but they no longer wanted me. My
family didn’t want me.
No one fucking wanted me.
A rogue Nightmare was easy prey. Already, I had over a dozen Hunters
come after me - the reason for the arrow burning away in the fire.
Sobbing, I placed my head in my hands and thought of death. It was so
incredibly tempting, that seductive dark embrace constantly nagging at me,
and I wanted nothing more than to give in. But I knew I could never.
Atta.
Z.
My love and my best friend. Somehow, someway, I would earn their
forgiveness and love. In my mind, I had a goal: to win Atta and Z back before
Z’s wedding to the seven princes. I chuckled yet again, slightly hysterically,
as I thought of my badass, Nightmare-hating best friend as the lover of the
seven Nightmare princes. It was some cosmic joke. Fate was no doubt
laughing at her.
Suddenly, the fire was blown out, and a cool wind blew through my
hiding spot. I froze, knowing that I was too weak to defend myself from the
Hunters. As a Vampire, I healed faster than a mere mortal, but the wound in
my leg had been deep, cutting through bone an
d tendons.
“Get up, you pathetic simpleton,” a strident feminine voice demanded. It
was unfamiliar but still caused pinpricks of terror to race down my spine. It
was the voice you would hear on a stage, innately demanding your respect.
I remained shivering on the floorboards, eyes squeezed shut.
would emanate directly from this woman.
Footsteps echoed around me, surrounding me. I counted at least fifteen
heartbeats.
Somebody grabbed my hair, and I screamed at the initial stab of pain. My
eyes, unbidden, flickered to the woman who held me.
She was beautiful, that much was obvious. Her rose gold hair cascaded
around her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue,
that exact color when the sun began to peek through the boughs of trees early
in the morning.
Her hand curved around my face, and a delicate smile touched her red-
painted lips. She looked as delicate as a snake, however. No amount of
smiling could pacify the rage in her eyes. The darkness.
“My poor dear,” she cooed. “Cast out. Abandoned. Alone.” She shook
her head in mock apology, and my temper flared. That condescending little
bitch!
“Who are you?”
“I think the better question would be: what do I want?” She laughed, a
sound that made goosebumps erupt on my skin. Fear penetrated my defenses,
and it took considerable effort not to curl into a fetal position and cry. “Your
name is Mali.”
“No shit,” I sniped back, resisting the urge to spit on her smug face. Her
smile never wavered at my small act of disobedience.
“My name is Aaliyah,” she said calmly. “And you’re going to help me.”
ONE
Z
The throne room was...underwhelming.
That was not a term I would think to associate with such a room.
The connotations of the word ‘throne room’ would suggest
intricately-crafted chairs raised on a dais and three-tiered chandeliers. What I
found, however, was something else entirely.
It had once been beautiful, the opulence even now undeniable, but time
had tarnished its beauty. The chandeliers were covered in dust and
spiderwebs. The thrones themselves were cracked in more places than one.
I tried to mask my expression of shock, but a tiny gasp slipped out
instinctively. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
This room was just one of many throne rooms for the seven kings. They
barely ever traveled to the Capital unless there was an important event
transpiring. Like the Damning - a fight to the death between one-hundred of
the worst criminals and assassins. At the end of the day, there was only one
winner. One person to claim the title of the Kings’ private assassin.
A title that currently belonged to me.
I could feel phantom remnants of blood slithering over my skin like a
snake, a palpable entity. The screams of the men I had killed contaminated
the air until I was practically choking on them.
Nobody expected a person like me to win. A girl, for one, and a human.
An insignificant bug in this fucked up world of predators. I was expected to
be squashed by more than one foot, not emerge victorious. I blamed it on
dumb luck.
The seven Nightmare species were descended from the seven deadly sins.
It hadn’t always been that way. Hundreds of years ago, humans had ruled the
world. There had been skyscrapers and presidents and jobs that didn’t involve
groveling. When the sins descended like damn vultures, they had gifted
certain families with ethereal powers. Powers that defied the natural order.
Humans had feared these creatures, coined as Nightmares, but they were
a dying breed. It became apparent that no amount of fighting could quell the
growing plague - the plague being supernatural monsters. They were
stronger, better, smarter (or so they claimed), and we were helpless to escape
their keen claws burrowing into our sides.
For the first time in forever, the humans found themselves near the
bottom of the food chain.
Lifting my head up imperiously, I took the final steps into the desolate
room. It was still beautiful, there was no denying that, but it was apparent that
it had been forgotten. The room was actually a fitting representation of
myself in that respect.
My eyes latched onto the Shifter King first. He sat in the center of the
room, penetrating eyes aimed directly at me. At his gaze, I straightened
imperceptibly. I would not allow him to intimidate me.
Shifters were descended from Wrath. They were volatile by nature,
jumping to violence as a form of resolution. They tended to see the worst in
people and were quick to anger and slow to forgive. The current king was
also a major asshole, no surprise, and was the most avid proponent of human
work camps.
Behind him, standing abnormally still with his muscular arms folded in
front of his chest, was the King’s son, Lupe.
My heart hammered when I met his dark eyes. His hair was disheveled, as
if he had run his hand through it one too many times, but his eyes were kind.
Sympathetic. Compassionate.
My lips pursed.
I didn’t deserve his pity nor did I want it. He may have been my mate -
the other half, or at least a seventh, of my soul - but he didn’t understand me.
He couldn’t possibly understand how it felt to lose your two best friends in a
matter of days.
My stomach was a clamorous mixture of dread and an almost
incandescent fury. I kept envisioning Diego’s face…
His eyes had been wide, staring blankly at a spot on the ceiling. I had
heard that you were supposed to close the eyes of the dead, but I couldn't
bring myself to do it. After all, they weren’t Diego’s eyes. Not anymore. His
eyes had always been alight with laughter and mirth. His lips had always
been curved into a perpetual smirk. There hadn’t been blood on the Diego I
remembered. No, the man lying on the ground, dead, was a shell of the man I
had known and loved.
The solution to everything was simple: I would never love again.
Everybody I had ever loved was brutally taken from me. Death had
claimed them all, and I was helpless to stop it.
My parents, murdered in front of my eyes.
S, the man I had loved, killed by rogue Shifters.
Diego, stabbed trying to protect me.
Mali, my best friend who had betrayed me by quite literally falling into
bed with the enemy. Zack. The last man I had killed with a single,
unceremonious stab to the heart.
Even Devlin, despite him sleeping soundly in my room, had left me. He
was the first man I had ever loved, the man I had thought I would make a life
with, and he had left me under this delusional belief that he needed to protect
me. It was only a few days ago that I discovered our entire relationship was
built on a lie. He had been Devlin the crowned prince of Genies, not Lin, the
man I loved.
And I was Z, the human assassin who killed his kind for a living, not the
timid, innocent girl he had
believed himself to love.
There was nothing beautiful about our relationship. It was a ferocious
snow storm with no hope of relief. It was tumbling in a riptide, desperate for
fresh air before you were pulled back under. It was death in the truest form.
I ripped my eyes reluctantly off of Lupe’s, surveying the rest of the men
in the room. Of course there were only men. Of freaking course.
The Mermaid King caught my eye. He was sitting directly beside the
Shifter King, lips curved up into a malicious smile. His glacial eyes grazed
the other kings before landing and staying on me. His smile grew
significantly. He might’ve been handsome with his golden hair and lightly
tanned skin, but there was something cold in his eyes. Something that made
the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I had the sudden urge to
escape, to run, to leave this hellish room with the many eyes that seemed to
see too much. I felt vulnerable standing there. Not at all like the fierce warrior
I was expected to be. In that moment, I wasn’t Z the assassin, but Zara the
fragile human girl.
There were three men surrounding the Mermaid King. They all had the
same golden-spun hair and ocean blue eyes. There was no doubting the
similarities between them and the King. Them and Dair.
My heart kick-started at the thought of my sweet, gentle mate. He wasn’t
present in the room, but I could sense him nearby. Perhaps a few rooms over.
I didn’t know how I knew it, only that I did. That damn mate bond between
us. The bond that I somewhat refused to acknowledge.
This bond didn’t guarantee love, but it was almost always present. And
love, I had come to find out, was immensely dangerous. It strangled you.
Choked you. Falling in love with one person made me off-kilter, but falling
in love with more than one was damn near suicidal.
Briefly, my eyes flitted around the remaining kings. Besides Lupe, none
of my princes were present.
Not my princes, I scolded myself.
The Shadow King was clothed in darkness, hidden in the corner of the
room. I wanted to chuckle at the similarities between Ryland and his father.
As descendants of Pride, they refused to show their faces to people they
didn’t deem as “worthy” - a word I hated intensely. That definition was
skewed by bias and prejudice.
A female and a human? Most definitely not worthy in their eyes.