Page 47 of The Devil of London

“Don’t leave me alone.” My request was little more than a breath of air.

“I won’t ever leave you again. I fucked up last time by assuming you died, and . . . I fucked up. Let’s go with that, love. It’s why I . . . never mind. Do you remember when you danced with me in New Orleans? The dress you wore was the color of blood. I’d never seen a lovelier sight in my existence. I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, but you and I only ever get the truth when you’re slipping away from me.” He shifted closer, placing a kiss against my forehead. His Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly, and his jaw clenched before he pulled back, so we were face-to-face again. Gently, his fingertip traced down my cheek, and he smiled. Not even the warmth of that gesture could prevent the ice that encapsulated my heart, or chase away the temptation of death lingering in the shadows. Khaos didn’t look delighted or satisfied that he’d won against me. Instead, he appeared more troubled and miserable, which sorta gave me a sick twinge of amusement.

Khaos released a shuddered breath before releasing it in a hiss of air from between his teeth, once again tucking the blankets around my shivering form. He made a pained sound from deep in his chest as the air crackled from my lungs. Eyeing the door, he glanced at me with regret burning in his stormy depths. Grunting at the sight of my miserable appearance, he dropped his head into bloodied hands. A knock at the bedroom door had his dark head lifting, peering toward it expectantly.

Malik’s eyes rounded as he took in the blood splatter on the ceiling, then the blood smears coating the walls, and finally moved them to the pools of it around the floor. He released a soft breath of air as he hesitated just inside the doorway, as if he were unsure whether he wanted to be in this room.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, dropping his mouth open before clamping it shut. “It looks like a fucking murder scene in here.”

“It is, asshole,” Khaos growled, dropping his head into his palms. “Tell me you found something to take the edge off this agonizing pain.”

“Yeah, she had some shit put away at the back of her cupboard,” Malik stated, strolling over to hand Khaos a glass of my expensive Irish whiskey. “You motherfuckers need some serious fucking help.” He whistled, nodding toward where the bathroom door lay on the floor with the frame still attached.

Ryat issued a low whistle from where he’d leaned against the door, arriving silently. His Nordic-blue gaze slid to the bloody windowless sill, walls, and then to me. He crossed his heavily tattooed arms over his chest and kicked one foot up to rest on the other.

“There’s an issue developing. Some assholes set the warehouse district on fire, and several of our containers have been engulfed already. There were also several trucks backed through the fence and loaded with cargo before they were driven off. I’m going to head over there and see what I can discover about who set it and who we’re murdering next.”

“Handle it, Ryat. Take two guys with you and watch your backs. Someone is starting a war before the syndicates can unite and become too powerful to face off against. I want to know who, and I want them dead and buried six-feet deep, yesterday.” Khaos slid his hand to my cheek, as concern stamped over his face.

“You don’t want to come with me to murder these pricks? I think you won against your little spitfire. Let Merikh babysit and come have some fun. You know you enjoy being a murderous, psychotic prick when our merchandise is played with.” Malik smiled at me. “Red looks stunning on you. You should consider dying your hair crimson. My boy here would walk around with his cock hard as shit every time he glimpsed it on you, girlie.”

“Fuck off, Ryat. I haven’t ever left her to succumb to death alone before, and I’m not about to start now. Last time, we ended up burying her alive because of these assholes. I won’t do it again. The hunters are in town. The syndicate is converging as well, and right now, I don’t care if the entire empire I built for us to rule together collapses around us. I don’t care if the bloody bastards raid my club and raze it to the ground,” Khaos whispered angrily, closing his eyes to bow his head. I could hear the death rattle in my lungs, which meant he could as well, but at least the numbness had finally won against the pain. Everything was feeling irrelevant and disembodied.

Ryat’s eyes hardened and then thinned into slits. “I know you hate this part. We all do, but until we find a cure for the curse, we’re stuck dealing with it. You and Aderyn got the shit end of the stick, I get it, but you’ve been moving pieces on the board for over a thousand years for this one thing to come together. You can’t stop now, brother. If she knew what you were doing, she wouldn’t want you to either,” Ryat stated before strolling into the room and clapping his hand on Khaos’s shoulder. “We’re with you and Aderyn until the end. Whatever it may be or whenever it comes, we are a team. Us against those righteous motherfuckers who placed us here and cursed us all,” he whispered vehemently.

Khaos clapped his hand over Ryat’s before tipping the whiskey back, then focused on the empty glass. Tattooed fingers shoved through raven-colored tresses. A delicate silverish-blue inscription that covered his flanks pulsed and moved with a strange, hypnotic beat. He dropped his hands and then steepled them in front of his lips. He turned, seeing the glaze coating my eyes, and frowned before he released a soft, pained sound from his lungs. The men exited the room to refill his glass and make plans to leave as he focused on me.

“You’re not the queen, Aderyn. You are my entire fucking kingdom,” he whispered. Then there was a low-pitched whistle outside, and he turned, staring at the window before he stood. “Incoming! Get down, now!” he roared a split second before there was an explosion that shook the house. Wood creaked, and then the sound of something crashing reverberated through the bedroom. The flash was violet, and then noxious smoke started to fill the room. I couldn’t move, let alone run. If my mind could be believed, someone had just blown the fuck out of my neighbor’s house.

“Get . . . off.”

“Herne hunters are outside your house and you’re more worried about me covering you from harm?”

“Hate . . . You . . . more.”

“No, you really don’t. You hate that no matter what we do to one another, we’re fated to be forced together. Now, close those pretty lips of yours so they don’t sense you’re in here. They’re after you, not me, brat. You’re the one who changes everything you touch into chaos. Zealots hunt your pretty ass down because they’ve figured out who and what you truly are, Aderyn.” The sound of glass shattering in the distance had Khaos placing even more of his weight on me. “Slaughter every motherfucking last one of them! I want their fucking heads,” he shouted, sliding his focus from me to the door to the window. He dove for me, sheltering me with his larger frame seconds before another explosion shook the house.

“I truly wish they’d stop trying to take you from me. As if I’d ever let them have my girl? One day, we’ll find the key to ending them and finish this once and for all.”

“Ouch,” I hissed. His eyes dropped to my mouth and rolled to lock with mine. “Off . . . me, prick.”

His lips curled into a disarming smile. “You cannot do anything the easy way, can you, Aderyn? Be a good girl for me and just fucking die so I can roll your gorgeous ass up in the blanket and we can get the fuck out of here, before they cave this shitty little shack you call home in on our skulls.”

“I h-h-hate . . . you.”

“Love is madness, Aderyn. The line between it is so insignificant that you never realize one from the other. At least monsters like us do not see the line or where it crosses. Don’t spend too much time in the past.Reviens-moi, âme sœur,” he murmured.

The room around me went fuzzy, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the smoke or because I was dying. Blasts were still going off around my humble home. The shrieks and painful, wet exclamations of death reported the guys were out guarding Khaos, as well as my dying body from being taken by the hunters. Arms slipped beneath me, and Khaos lifted my blanket-wrapped body before heading toward the hallway. He was bathed in my blood, but the movement had more oozing from my wounds. Then the slender talons of death gripped me, taking me from him again.

Death is only the beginning . . .