practically spilling clothing out. I wasn’t surprised that Bash had a fetish for
designer jeans.
The ass himself was sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, a black
cauldron emitting a murky green mist in front of him.
Seriously? A cauldron? If that wasn’t a cliché, I didn’t know what was.
Killian was already sitting on the bed, his long, lean legs crossed at his
ankles. The first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a myriad
of tattoos and a splatter of chest hair. Fuck, he was gorgeous. A work of art.
I didn’t see Ryland or Lupe, which surprised me. Before I could inquire
about their noticeable absence, Bash spoke.
“He’s in the Vampire Kingdom.” His voice was the snappy, no-nonsense
one I was beginning to hate. I sometimes wanted to replace the giant stick up
his ass with a dildo. Maybe then he’d be content.
“Jax?” I clarified, and he shot me a look that made me feel like an
imbecile.
“No shit,” he retorted curtly.
“Don’t be a dick, Bash,” Killian said. He sat up on the bed, eyes
narrowed into thin slits and hands clenched. Out of all my mates, Killian was
the least confrontational. It was surprising to see him so pissed off in my
defense.
Bash glared at the Incubus, chest heaving, before he turned towards me.
The harshness in his eyes immediately dissipated, and he placed his head in
his hands.
“I’m sorry, Z. It’s just... he’s my brother.”
I wasn’t angry at his snarky outburst. Bash coped with stress and pain
differently than my other mates. Frankly, I understood him better than I did
the others. His prickly exterior hid a compassionate, gentle soul. His heart
was surrounded by coils of barbed wire and thorns. But every rose had thorns
to protect it from harm. He was a beautiful, broken man, and I sought to
replace the holes in his heart with beautiful things.
“It’s okay,” I said sincerely. “You’re scared, and you miss him. I do too.”
I gulped, remembering how I had found Dair only a few hours earlier. I
didn’t even want to think about Jax enduring the same treatment.
Taking another ragged breath, Bash held up an old, yellowing map. A
trail of green slime extended from the Capital to the Vampire Kingdom.
My eyes devoured the map eagerly, memorizing the trail. It appeared to
end directly beside a forest, ominously named Killer’s Hallow.
Totally not a terrifying name.
“We need to go after him,” I said immediately, already planning which
route we would take. We had to be careful about venturing into the
Vampires’ territory. They saw humans as nothing more than food. I once
heard a rumor that the Vamps created slaughterhouses and captured
unsuspecting humans from neighboring towns. The mere aspect made me
sick to my stomach. Male. Female. Young. Old. They didn’t discriminate.
Every human was a target, regardless of demographics.
“We can’t,” Devlin sniped from behind me. When I gaped at him in
disbelief, he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous tic he’d had
since we first met, when we were sixteen. “You’re the Kings’ assassin now,
Z,” he explained reluctantly. His voice was potent with pain. “You can’t just
leave. The spell they placed on you when they inducted you won’t allow it.”
“What the fuck are you saying?” I snapped, my agitation physically
manifesting itself. I began to pace the large room, no doubt wearing holes
into the carpet. Bash and Killian watched me warily, but neither of them
spoke up. “I need to ask for fucking permission to rescue my mate?”
Devlin’s tightened jaw was the only answer I received.
“They’ll agree,” Killian assured me. “There’s no love between Jax and
his dad, but he’s still the bastard’s heir. If you offer to go after his son, he’ll
agree.”
I wanted to punch something. Stab something. Anything.
It fucking gutted me that I had to rely on the permission of seven sadistic
assholes. What if they said no? What would I do then? I had no doubt that the
potion they forced me to consume would kill me if I tried to disobey their
direct orders.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll ask them.”
“Today,” Bash broke in, turning back towards the map. His finger idly
today.”
“They should be in the throne room,” Devlin added. He sounded
reluctant, pained, as if he would rather have me do anything else but talk to
those men. I didn’t blame him. I was pretty sure carving my eye out and
eating it would be more appealing than pleading with the Kings.
“Then let’s go,” I said curtly, already walking towards the door. I would
beg the Kings if I had to, losing what little dignity I had left. However, it
would be worth it. Jax was worth that and more.
Come hell or high water, I was getting my mate back.
THE KINGS WERE AN INTIMIDATING BUNCH.
The power they exuded was almost staggering. It wrapped around my
throat like a wire, pulling until I could no longer breathe. Even if I didn’t
know what species they were, the way they sat would tell me.
The Mage was sleeping, the Incubus was winking seductively, the Shifter
King was coiled with unrestrained tension, and the Mermaid King glared
enviously at the Vampire’s golden goblet.
All seven of them immediately turned towards me when I entered. I
noticed, somewhat distantly, that the old assassin, Axel, was standing just
behind the Shifter King’s throne, watching me as intently as the others.
Ignoring his obsidian gaze, I directed my attention to the Vampire King. I
knew that would piss off the others, particularly the Mermaid King. Fucking
drama queen.
“Your highness,” I addressed the handsome Vampire. He looked a lot like
Jax, but unlike my eccentric mate, his face was hard and his eyes were cold.
Still, both men had light brown hair grazing their foreheads and lean,
muscular bodies. The red robe anointing him as a member of the Vampires
flared around his ankles as he reclined in his throne.
“What’s the meaning of this, assassin?” the Shifter King demanded. I
ignored his outburst, keeping my attention on Jax’s father. Did he feel any
love for his missing son?
“I heard that Jax Vampire has gone missing,” I declared. There was no
use beating around the proverbial bush. I learned long ago that I needed to be
direct with what I wanted, especially when it came to these seven men.
Anything else and they perceived it as a weakness.
I stared at the arresting man, searching for any indication that he cared
about Jax’s disappearance. There was no surprise on his face, no worry, no
fear. It could’ve been hewn from stone with how expressive it was.
“And?” he drawled lazily.
A long, potent silence descended between us, only broken apart by the
Incubus King’s fingers thrumming against the arm of his throne.
“And,” I began, taking a fortifying breath. “I would like your permission
to go
after him.”
The asshole didn’t even blink. Instead, he continued to stare at me with an
unnerving clarity that made goosebumps blossom on my arms.
“Why?” the Vampire King inquired at last, canting his head to the side.
My eye began to twitch. Literally twitch.
If there wasn’t a spell prohibiting me from hurting them, I would jab my
knife in all of their throats.
“He’s royalty,” I explained, repeating the line I’d rehearsed with the
others. “It is my sacred duty as the Kingdoms’ assassin to protect him and the
others.”
“Ridiculous,” the Mermaid King huffed. “Why should we waste our
valuable resources to save a dim-witted boy?”
My hands curled into fists as anger pulsated through me. Smug, idiotic
asshole.
Fortunately, the Mermaid King’s outburst had the opposite reaction he
had hoped for. The Vampire King leaned forward in his chair, eyes
penetrating the side of the other man’s head.
“You can’t talk about my son like that,” he hissed, fangs elongating and
piercing his bottom lip. Red rims appeared around both of his pupils as his
Nightmare floated closer to the surface. “He’s my heir. If I want our assassin
to retrieve him, she will.”
I just barely resisted the urge to smile. Who would’ve thought that their
own internal rivalries would aid me with my request?
“I agree with the Vampire,” the Shadow King retorted from his throne.
Shadows hugged his skin, obscuring his features from view. “I vote the
assassin retrieves the missing prince.”
“All in favor?” the Vampire King asked. All the Kings, sans the Mermaid
and Shifter ones, raised their hands in solidarity.
“Don’t be so upset,” the Incubus tsked, turning first towards the Shifter
and then the Mermaid. “We could make this another game for our little
human assassin. Her next task to prove her worth. She does have six more,
does she not?”
Oh, fuck.
The Shifter King’s eyes gleamed maliciously.
“A scavenger hunt,” he declared to the murmurs of approval from the
other Kings. To me, he said, “You will find the Vampire prince and bring
him home. You have five days. If you fail, you will die.” His smile grew until
it practically cleaved his face in two. There was something evil lurking just
beneath the surface. Something that made fear trail an icy finger across the
nape of my neck.
“Axel,” the Mermaid King interrupted, nodding towards the stone-faced
assassin. “Would you accompany Z on her quest for the missing prince?”
If it was possible—and I didn’t think it was—Axel’s face hardened even
further. Lips pressed in a solemn line, he nodded once.
“Perfect!” The Vampire King gleefully clapped his hands together. “You
leave tonight. If you return, Z, we have a special surprise for you. A reward,
you could say, for completing your mission.”
Fuck. Me.
SEVEN
LUPE
M y jaw cracked with my next yawn as I scrubbed a large
hand through my hair.
I didn’t know how long I’d been in the library, only that
the sky was turning a metallic gray outside. Books covered the oak table,
pages loose and strewn across the wood.
I had been at this for hours now, and I still had yet to find the strange
symbol in any of my books.
During The Damning, numerous assassins had gone after Z and my
brothers under Aaliyah’s orders. Each one had a tattoo etched into their skin,
on the back of their right shoulder. It appeared to be thin black lines
morphing into thicker red ones in a makeshift circle. The symbol had to mean
something. My analytical brain refused to accept anything else.
But what?
My eyes flickered towards a history textbook praising the Kings and their
generosity. I actually scoffed as I read a paragraph detailing my father’s
contributions towards “improving Shifter and human relations.” The man had
placed them in work camps, killing those he deemed too weak to survive. If
that was what history called “generous,” then I didn’t want to know what
they considered brutal.
The textbook also briefly described a prophecy. The prophecy. The one
that had been ingrained within me at a young age.
According to some ancient Mage hundreds of years ago, seven
descendants from each species—with a relationship resembling that of
brothers instead of enemies—would either bridge the divide between
Nightmares and humans...or ruin it completely. Our powers were supposedly
more potent than that of our parents or any Nightmares that came before us.
Slamming the book closed, I tilted my head back and stared intently at the
ceiling. A mural was painted across the gilded wood. Seven demons encircled
an angel. I could only tell they were demons from their grotesque appearance
—horns protruding from their scalps, veiny tails wrapping around their
clawed feet, and skin that varied in colors. Red, purple, blue, green, white,
pink, and gold. The hues of the sins. The angel, however, was a combination
of all seven of them, her skin comparative to a rainbow.
I had been in the library hundreds of times, but I’d never noticed the
painting on the ceiling before.
My thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing behind me. I jumped in
my chair, startled by the intrusion.
My father glided forward with Atta following closely behind him. He was
a tall man, handsome in an untraditional sort of way, with muscles that gave
him a towering, imposing stature. His piercing brown eyes focused first on
me and then on my books.
He never understood my obsession with reading. He believed Shifters
were good for two things: fucking and fighting.
“It’s our sin,” he always said. “We’re wrathful, not studious. Don’t be a
fucking dumbass.”
My father wasn’t a good man. I knew that. The world knew that. Z knew
that. However, my father never hit me. Not really. He was cruel and
domineering, always staring at me like I was a bug on his shoe, but he never
physically hurt me. I often wondered if it was because he was as afraid of me
as I was of him.
“Father,” I addressed him, nodding respectfully. I hated that I had to play
nice with the murderous asshole. I wanted nothing more than to slash my
claws across his throat. “Atta.” I turned to my sister next, my hard eyes
warming marginally.
My sister received our mother’s vibrant red hair and freckled face. With
her soft, dewy features and bright green eyes, she was the light to my father’s
darkness.
“Lupe,” Atta replied back. Her voice was reserved, terse, and her eyes
flitted from book to book without ever sticking. My hackles immediately
rose.
“What can I do for you, father?” I questioned. Every muscle in my body
was rigid, bracing for a fight, and my stomach swirled and tightened
uncomfortably. Daddy dearest rarely called for me. Actually, I could count
on one hand the amount of times he had.
Did he know about my mating with Z? I kne
w that he, along with the
other Kings, suspected as much. It was dangerous knowledge to have.
Threatening her would have all seven of us on our knees, begging for mercy.
The mighty would fall and the world would burn before we’d let anyone hurt
our mate.
“Come with me,” he demanded briskly, turning on his heel and stalking
out of the library. I exchanged an anxious glance with my pale-faced sister
before following after him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, racing to keep up. I was easily able to
match my long strides with his.
I could feel my Bear prowling just beneath the surface, demanding to be
let loose. He sought to protect his mate from all harm, including from his
father. If I released the fragile grip I had on my animal, hell would reign.
We entered an unfamiliar portion of the Capital where the number of
servants hurrying about became lesser and lesser. Still silent, my father led us
both down a rickety staircase. The distressed wood creaked with every step
we took, and I questioned if it would be able to hold our combined weights.
The further down we descended, the staler the air became. A musty smell
barraged my enhanced senses.
“Where the hell are we?” Atta grumbled, tripping over the hem of her
gown. I reached out a hand to steady her before pulling it back just as
quickly. If my father were to see me help my sister, he would perceive it as
weakness. From both of us. She should never need help, and I shouldn’t offer
it without expecting something in return.
The hall was lit by hanging bulbs evenly spaced down the long corridor.
Iron cages were on either side, consisting of nothing but hard-packed dirt,
rusty chamber pots, and worn cots.
A dungeon.
My dad had brought us to a dungeon.
My unease ratcheted up a dozen notches as I stood protectively in front of
Atta. I had no idea what my dad’s plans were, but I’d be damned if she got
hurt because of him. Did he intend to lock us down here? I would fight tooth
and nail before I ever allowed that to happen.
Atta, sensing my anxiousness, dug her fingers into my shirt from behind.
Her touch grounded me, causing my muscles to relax incrementally.
I wanted to assure her that we would be okay, that I would get us both out
of this mess alive, but I couldn’t get the words out. Especially with my father