will.”
I considered his words, the connotations of something so apparently
simple. Free-will. Did anyone really have it? Did I have it?
Sure, I could walk away at any time, but would that be the right decision?
Would I be able to live with myself if I had the opportunity to change the
world but chose not to? Morality, I realized, prohibited free-will.
T nudged my shoulder with his, breaking me from my thoughts.
“I actually came down here for a reason,” he said at last. “B wants to talk
to you.”
I groaned.
B wouldn’t be expecting an answer. He already knew what my answer
had to be. The world needed fighters, not cowards. I knew this. I honestly
did.
But the fear of death settled in my stomach heavily. Nodding in
resignation, I followed T to B’s office. Each step forward was weighed down,
my feet dragging against the stone hallway. A leaden, miserable feeling
settled over me as I spotted B talking with Diego.
The Mage smiled when he saw me.
“Hey Hot Stuff,” he flirted. I glared.
“I will kill you with a butter knife.”
Diego grabbed his chest in mock-offense.
“One day, Z, you will fall in love with me. One day.”
“I’ll let HH know.”
Diego blanched at the threat. HH was his mate, a cute human boy, and the
reason Diego had joined the resistance in the first place.
“Not that I’m not glad to see your sexy face,” I teased back. “But what
are you doing here?”
Diego turned towards B expectantly, and I did as well. T leaned against
the back wall, arms crossed over his muscular chest.
B’s face was grim as he dropped picture after picture onto his desk.
“What…?”
I trailed off, unable to tear my eyes away from the horrendous sight
before me. A young girl, lower body mauled off as if she had been attacked
by a bear.
Or a Shifter.
Two teenagers with their skin removed.
A male with no eyes.
A baby with-
“Enough.” I swiped the pictures off the desk, watching as they fluttered to
the floor. I took a calming breath as if that one small gesture could erase the
images already tattooed into my brain. “Why did you show me that?”
My stomach threatened to expel the contents of my dinner.
“Those were the victims of your fellow competitors. You will be
competing against murderers. Monsters. You, and only you, have a chance to
end it all.” B slammed a fist onto his desk, and Diego startled beside me at
the sound. “How can you not want to take a stand against such horrors?”
I bristled at his implication.
“You know I would do anything to rid the world of such disgusting
creatures.” I glanced at Diego out of the corner of my eye. “No offense,
Diego.”
“None taken.”
Turning back towards B, I straightened my shoulders imperiously. “I’m
just not sure I’m ready to die yet.”
He rolled his eyes. “Quit being so dramatic.”
Dramatic?
I was going to castrate him. Where was he when Vampires started a
blood-trafficking trade? Where was he when the Mages decided to
experiment new spells on runaways? Where was he whenever the Nightmares
attacked?
He was safe in his fucking office, that was where. Hiding. And he dared
to call me dramatic? He dared to imply that I was a coward?
Before I could threaten bodily harm, he continued on.
“You fear that people will target you if they know you are human,
correct?”
I nodded mutely, too angry to speak.
“Did you know that a couple of humans are chosen for The Damning
each year it is put on?” he asked, moving around his desk gracefully. He
leaned against the front, arms and ankles crossed. He was the epitome of
calm...the epitome of everything I was not.
“I didn’t know that,” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“They’re expecting humans to compete. It’s a part of the natural order of
things. A way to determine who is higher up on the food chain. Being human
is not an issue, for there is always at least one human disgusting enough to be
impassive, revealing nothing.
“So what do you plan for me to do about that?” I snapped. And no, I
wasn’t willing to do a sex-change. I rather liked my vagina, thank you very
much.
A small smirk pulled up B’s lips. He nodded towards Diego who eagerly
procured a silver necklace.
“Jewelry?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Diego gasped. “Not just jewelry you filthy whore. A spell.” He handed
me the necklace enthusiastically, though I’m afraid I failed to reciprocate
such an emotion. Holding the chain tentatively, I glanced at B, unsure of
what he wanted me to do.
“Have you never put on a necklace before?” Diego quipped. Without
waiting for a response, he used one hand to hold up my hair while the other
snapped the necklace into place. It felt heavy between my breasts.
“Okay…?”
“Press down,” Diego instructed.
“On?”
“The pendant, dumbass.”
Rolling my eyes, I did as he said.
I didn’t feel the change. I wouldn’t have even realized something had
happened if I hadn’t caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.
A black cloak was now obscuring the curves of my body, the hood pulled
up. My face was covered by a white, intricate mask. It was outlined by silver,
two pinprick black dots in place of my eyes. I looked badass, yet I felt no
different. I couldn’t feel the weight of the cloak, nor the sharp plastic of the
mask digging into my face.
I sucked in a breath as I considered the ethereal figure before me. My
identity would remain a secret. Nobody would know that I was a female.
And, if shit hit the fan, I could run.
I could run, and no one would know who to look for.
There was still fear, still stomach-curling terror, but now I felt something
else as well. Something akin to hope.
I could compete in The Damning. I could kill the monsters that plagued
this earth. By eliminating the royal families, we might actually have a chance
of winning this war. I could sneak into the Capital undetected. I could do this.
“Only you can compete in The Damning. You killed Luca, and the magic
transferred itself to you. This is your choice, Z, but I hope you make the right
one.”
B must’ve seen the decision in my posture, the sinking of my shoulders in
resolution. A brilliant smile crossed his face.
“That’s my girl. I knew you would make the right decision.”
THREE
Z
Ifiddled with the hem of my dress wondering if I had somehow died and
gone to hell. How did women wear these damn things? Didn’t they need
to breathe?
“Stop fidgeting,” Mali hissed. “You look great.”
“You look sexy,” Diego corrected, flashing me a smile. “Sex on a stick
type of sexy.”
I flipped him off, turning to stare at the scenery
through the car window.
The grassy fields slowly transformed into mountainous ranges; the car
swiveled side to side as it attempted to maneuver through the horrendous
landscape. My stomach churned and tightened as we made another sharp
turn.
“Fucking shit,” I muttered, squeezing my eyelids shut as if that could
somehow quell the nausea.
Definitely hell.
“We’re going to be there soon,” Diego said, acknowledging my
discomfort. He casually threw his arm around the back of my seat, squeezing
my shoulder in the process.
“Why can’t I push the button?” I moaned, absently caressing my
beautiful, badass necklace that hung around my neck. Diego referred to it as
the Ninja Transformation Button. I couldn’t help but agree with him.
“We’ve been over this,” Mali said, yanking the steering wheel to the left.
The movement propelled me into Diego’s warm body, and I placed my hand
over his mouth before he could make another dirty joke. “You should only
wear your Ninja Badass Costume when you’re competing. We need to be
careful that people don’t draw targets on your back. Outside of the
competition, you're Zara the maid. Not Z the assassin.”
A tiny smirk pulled up my lips.
“Ninja Badass Costume?” I teased. Mali’s cheeks flamed, and she
“Shut up.”
The plan had been drilled into my head by B until I could practically
spew it in my sleep. Each competitor was allowed three personal employees,
called the Assistants. Mali and Diego were posing as my maid and driver,
respectively. And me? The dress-wearing, non-badass me? I was some bimbo
named Zara. I know. Awful.
Z was the assassin.
Zara was his caretaker.
“But why a dress?” I whined, fidgeting. Mali cast me a look of disgust.
She never understood my aversion towards dresses and jewelry. She was the
type of female that would wear elaborate gowns and high-heels while
relaxing around the house. Her closet held more clothes than both mine and
Diego’s combined.
“Because Zara wears dresses,” she stressed, reminding me of my alter-
ego. I snorted.
“Zara wants to punch you in the face.”
“Zara needs to learn that threatening people isn’t always the best course
of action,” she retorted. Before I could respond, Diego clamped his hand over
my mouth. When I narrowed my eyes at him, he grinned sheepishly.
“You talk too much darling.”
In answer, I merely bit down on his palm.
He cried out, instantly removing his hand from my face.
“So savage,” he muttered, eyeing me darkly. I gave him a shit-eating grin.
“Holy crap guys!” Mali squealed. Her attention diverted from the road to
face the magnificent building resting in a steep decline. I cursed, whacking
the back of her head.
“Eyes on the road!”
“But...shiny…” she cooed. I turned to face what had so thoroughly
captured her attention.
A large, golden mansion sat in a valley created by the mountains. From
this distance, I could see nothing but a dozen or so pillars holding up a grand
arcade and a wrought-iron fence. A soft glow emanated from the various
windows running along the brick siding. A large body of water was adjacent
to the building, no doubt hosting the visiting Mermaids.
I heard rumors of this place. A place that no human has ever lived to tell
about. A place where Nightmares lurked in broad daylight.
A place where the Damning was held every five years.
With my mouth agape, I allowed my eyes to roam over the Nightmare’s
Capital. Directly between all seven kingdoms, this was considered the most
important building in the entire world. All of the important Nightmares
resided here, including Council Members and Royalty.
The assassin in me began to fangirl.
“You’re swooning,” Diego whispered, nudging my side. I reluctantly
pulled my eyes off of the building to face him.
“I don’t swoon.”
“I’m pretty sure you just did.” He lifted a finger to touch the edge of my
lip. “See? Drool.”
“I’m not…” I rubbed at my mouth.
Damn it. He was right.
We pulled in front of wrought, iron gates, stopping the car in front of a
small guard booth. A large man with broad shoulders and a shaved head
ambled towards the driver’s window. One look, and I knew he was a Shifter.
They were always freakishly large, regardless of what animal they
transformed into. I heard a story about a 300 pound killer who shifted into a
mouse.
“Identification.” His voice was gravelly, unsurprising given his
impressive stature.
Mali turned towards him, flashing a singularly beautiful smile.
“I’m Mali Estba. That is Diego Kenny. And back there is Zara Winters.”
I blinked.
Zara Winters.
Zara. Fucking. Winters.
Why did that name evoke images of baking cookies and dusting off
shelves? It was most definitely not a name that an assassin like me should
ever be associated with. I shuddered just hearing it.
“Matching or Damning?” the guard asked. His eyes were penetrating as
he surveyed the occupants of the car. When they rested on me, I met his stare
with an imperious set to my chin.
It suddenly occurred to me what he had said. I knew what The Damning
was - everyone did - but I had never heard about The Matching.
And what was up with these dumbass nicknames? Whoever was the event
coordinator really needed to get fired. What was next? The Eating? The
Talking? The Stabbing?
On second thought, The Stabbing did have a nice ring to it.
“The Damning,” Mali said without missing a beat. “We’re the Personal
Assistants of Z.” She flashed him the invitation, and he quickly scanned it,
confirming its authenticity.
“Personal Assistants, huh?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Nobody
could miss the suggestiveness in his voice. I shouldn’t have been surprised. B
had warned me that people would assume we were the lovers of Z - that was
what all the Assistants were. Hired lovers.
So he was pretty much insinuating that I would be considered the lover
of...myself. Not a horrible lover, as lovers could go, but there was only so
much a finger could do before it got repetitive.
Diego, beside me, began to chuckle, no doubt coming to the same
conclusion I had. Sick, perverted bastard.
“Where is Z?” the guard asked, searching the car once more. His eyes
zeroed in on Diego and narrowed.
Of course he would assume it was the guy.
Fucking Shifters.
“Z doesn’t like to show his face,” Mali lied smoothly. The Shifter’s
nostrils flared, and I knew what he was doing. Sniffing for a lie. There was a
lot of things Shifters could sniff - heightened emotions, smells miles away,
sweat glands when one began to lie. Would they be able to smell every fart
that had ever existed?
My mind turned over this newfound information.
How did one separat
e the farts from all of the other smells? Was it just a
constant background smell that they had to get used to? Could a Shifter die
because of a fart?
Could a-
“Zara,” Diego snapped, elbowing my stomach. “Where did your mind
go?”
I shrugged. “Farts.”
Diego glanced at me oddly. “You really are a psycho bitch, aren’t you?”
I chose not to respond to that rather fitting statement, turning back
towards the window instead.
We had pulled away from the guard booth and up a paved driveway that
circled around a marble statue. The opulence of both the building and the
yard was almost nauseating.
There were no other cars when we arrived in front of large, glass doors,
though I wasn’t surprised. B had wanted us to arrive early to scope the place
out.
A wicked smile turned up my lips.
As long as I could kill some Nightmares, this entire shit show would be
worth it.
FOUR
KILLIAN
Ilistened to the satiated moans, muffled through the closed door. Around
me, women and men alike ambled through the brothel’s halls. Drunk -
both from alcohol and pleasure.
I watched a particularly dazed woman leave one of the many bedrooms
adorning the hall. She was completely naked, her breasts covered in bites and
bruises. A man immediately followed behind her, face carved from marble
and red hair neatly trimmed.
Vampire.
Upon seeing me, the woman made an immediate beeline in my direction.
I blanched, attempting to disappear into the wall. What I wouldn’t have given
to be a Shadow at that moment. The Vampire glared at me, grabbing the
woman’s arm and pulling her back towards the bedroom. I heard the
woman’s sigh of pleasure.
Lust. Pleasure.
I breathed it all in. Immediately, my fatigued body thrummed with
unsuppressed energy. I felt as if I could run for miles.
The couple behind the door I was sitting in front of let out loud, ear-
splitting screams. The power from their shared orgasm breathed life into me.
I knew color was returning to my cheeks, and my hair, which had been
greasy and disheveled, began to shine as if it had a garnet sheen.
Feeling immensely satisfied, I picked myself up from the floor and
headed towards the entrance of the brothel.
Madame Delong, an aging woman and the owner of such an
establishment, regarded me from where she was perched behind a wooden