It knows I’ll be back.
It’s merely a matter of when.
As the tallest of us, Luther sits shotgun while Killian and Thane snuggle in the backseat. Eventually, Thane snores and tips his head back while Killian drools on his shoulder. Luther stays awake to keep me company, and by the time we finally arrive at the shuttered Bar Harbor estate, the vice around my chest has loosened just enough to draw a full breath of fresh sea air.
“We’re here.” Killian snorts and wipes his mouth, looking around through bleary eyes. Thane gets out of the car, revealing pale, tattooed skin as he stretches.
“Y’all want to sleep?” Killian yawns as he gets out, “or shift?”
“I’ll sleep better if I shift first,” Thane murmurs.
I nod, and lead them around the dark house to the back of the estate where the crash of waves against the rocky shore sprays across the lawn. It’s shallower here, but Thane can easily swim to deeper waters before shifting. Wordlessly, we strip off our clothes and surrender to our demons.
Killian’s body grows taller and broader. Fingers turn to claws, skin becomes blackened fur. Four-inch long fangs descend from his jaw as it lengthens into a black muzzle. When the change is complete, he stands over seven feet tall—a legendary monster of death and nightmares.
Who’s wagging his tail.
“Cute.” I roll my eyes, but don’t bother suppressing my smile—there’s no one here to hide from. His deep, rumbling laugh makes his hot breath fog in the ice-cold night air. From the corner of my eye, I see Thane take a running dive from the rocks and disappear into the churning seafoam, and a gust of air behind me signals Luther’s immense wings have emerged. He’s the largest of us—on land, at least—but that doesn’t stop Killian from trying to tackle him before his horns have even finished extruding from his skull. Luther’s prepared for his antics though and leaps into the air, just out of Killian’s reach. The mutt nips at his heels, chasing him in circles across the lawn.
He eventually manages to catch one of Luther’s ankles, who flies higher and higher until he’s over the water. Killian franticly clings to his legs, but Luther manages to shake him off, and I hear his yelp of surprise all the way from shore. When Luther lands beside me, his feral grin matches my own.
“Nice,” I murmur, and we fist bump. Moments later, Killian’s eyeshine rises above the waves and his bone-chilling howl is followed by shrieking clicks and deep warbles. The water retreats from the rocky face of the property’s edge, and soon enough Killian’s closer than he could ever possibly get on his own. His maw is open, tongue flopping in the wind as the oceans surface bulges with Thane’s massive form.
“Is the idiot surfing a Leviathan?” Luther chuckles, crossing his arms.
Under a blanket of stars strewn across the black night sky, an ancient and terrible god of the depths breaches the oceans surface. Water shimmers in the moonlight as it sluices down his sapphire-black scales. The orange shine of eyes make them appear lit from behind, and his slitted pupils contract from the moonlight. His jaw parts, revealing rows of foot-long serrated teeth and his tongue flicks out, tasting the air. Killian barks—asmuch as a demonic werewolf can—and Thane shakes his head, showering us with water even from here.
My sharp whistle pierces the night. “Here, boy,” I shout. A deep, thundering rumble rises from the bowels of Thane’s throat as he lowers his head enough for Killian to jump back onto land, where he snaps his jaws at me before sniffing the ground beneath Luther’s feet.
“You’re worse than a puppy,” he grumbles.
Thane looks at me expectantly, angling his enormous head so his hot breath douses Luther and Killian. Everyone believes him to be the most terrifying monster between the four of us because of his size and propensity for chaos. In truth, they’re all equally dangerous, equally destructive in their own ways—no one who’s seen Killian rend flesh from bone or Luther disembowel intestines one by one would disagree.
But I’m the only living being capable of summoning Hellfire.
I alone can extinguish the souls of Earth.
Death by my hand is forever.
With their demons surrounding me, my demon can finally rise from the prison of my mind. My head tilts back as the crown of Wrath—two symmetrical sets of upper and lower horns with a crest that runs from my forehead to the middle of my spine—break through my skin, curling around my head. Fire lights within my chest, emanating to my limbs and coursing through my veins. My skin charrs and blackens, cracking to reveal rivulets of Hellfire glowing with the promise of death. The agony it brings as Roth Kovacs is reduced to ash and the Heir of Ignis takes his place is addictive.
This pain means power.
This power makes me untouchable.
When I open my eyes, the world is bathed in a blood-red hue.
And nothing can hurt us.
27
NYX
There are few universal truths—laws of human nature—that have remained unchanged since the dawn of alcohol. Hangovers, for one. Regret, for another. Both of which make my head pound despite the torrent of hot water I’m trying to drown myself under. I can’t tell how long I’ve been in the shower since waking up alone after realizingI had sex with Killian?—
Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker, I had sex with Killian.
That was not on my bingo card.
