Page 2 of Above (Darkness Reigns #1)

Nova

“It is said that a single shaytan possesses the strength and intelligence of two dozen eadi. This is why eadi cannot hold positions of supposed importance, for they were not deemed worthy by the stars. I wonder if the core families think about those of us who were deemed worthy by the stars but not by them.”

L eave it to a rich man to be an absolute disappointment.

The scent of his cologne—leather and musk—mixed well with the wine on his breath, all of which paired nicely with his hazel eyes and firm grip. Yet, his mouth so loved to ruin it all.

“Personally, I don’t think that magic is all that important,” he whispered as I slid my tongue up the column of his neck, his stubble scraping against my chin.

A groan slipped from between his slightly parted lips, his voice momentarily—blissfully—gone.

But of course, life wasn’t fair, and he continued.

“Look at me. I have no magic and I’m almost as rich as the core families. Who needs the stars?”

It felt as if my blood was boiling inside of me, my fury red hot in the wake of his audacity. Not because he dared compare himself to the core families. Stars knew I couldn’t care less about the purists who felt the need to flaunt their obscene wealth and rant about their ridiculous agenda.

No, it was his lack of respect for the stars and what they blessed us with that pissed me off. Because those who disregarded the stars risked retribution, and I wasn’t willing to let him drag me down too.

“Hmm,” I hummed, my grip tightening in his rust-colored hair.

His smooth and callous-free fingers traced my shoulder, traveling down my arm.

Rare was an eadi that didn’t have the hands of the working class.

Not so rare that I was out of my side job of robbing the fools, but definitely a diamond in the rough.

Or, in my opinion, a weed in a field of flowers that needed to be pulled.

“Honestly, it’s kind of bizarre. I mean, can you even die?” he asked with a chuckle.

My hips stilled, his erection pressing into my fairly dry panties. He had been a good find—a great one really. His wealth was not generational, rather a streak of luck that carried him up the ladder at the oil company he worked at. That, and he fucked the owner.

Quickly, I scanned the room, his plush red sofa and cherrywood side tables a subtle hint at his wealth. But, like the rug below us, the gold fixtures and decorations were the true indicator. Such opulence. Such callousness.

Such disregard for his words.

Lifting my head, I formed a casual smirk on my face, leaning into my part of the exotic shaytan. “I will one day.”

“How?” There was a sense of wonder in his voice that not even he, with all his obvious belief of equality amongst our people, could hide.

“Don’t forget that I am a soldier, handsome. We die all the time.” That wasn’t necessarily true, especially since us mere grunts rarely saw any action.

I felt his heart speed beneath my palm as I let it rest on his chest, his flinch obvious and slightly surprising.

Did he not like death? Or was it the term soldier that made him uneasy?

That was the true purpose of grunts. We existed as backup, but also as a warning for the eadi—something to scare them into submission.

Dare to rebel, and find yourself facing the might of the shaytan forces.

“Do you ever get tired of the whole create, kill, conquer thing? I mean, don’t you wish you weren’t a shaytan?

It’s kind of…wrong. A perversion of humanity.

” As if he hadn’t been paying shaytan grunts to sleep with him to fulfill whatever strange kink he possessed. “Plus, isn’t your family disappointed?”

There it was, the nail in his coffin. I felt my anger simmer. The fury that I worked hard to contain. The rage that came from never feeling good enough for the eadi or the shaytan.

Smiling brightly at him, I moved my hands to his belt, undoing it without breaking eye contact. Eyes fluttering closed, James let his head lull back. Stupid, stupid man.

I yanked the belt free, using his carelessness to my advantage as I snaked it under and then around his neck. By the time the fool had caught on to what I was doing, he was already choking.

“I know that those without magic are forbidden from accessing any history or in-depth knowledge on it, so let me educate you, James.” The air seemed to become charged as I felt the stars’ gift stir within me.

Below, James bucked and gasped, his face turning a violent shade of red.

And in that moment, I knew this was about more than my anger.

It was about feeling powerful for once in my life.

“The stars are our saviors—our true rulers. Your wealth means nothing. Your contribution means nothing. You mean nothing.”

At that, I let go of the belt and rolled off him. The newest heir to the Dorelli Oil Corporation’s fortune choked as he clawed at the belt around his throat. I was not finished with my lesson though.

With a flick of my left pointer finger, I sent James soaring through the air. His body collided with the wall, portraits the price of my family home falling to the ground as he became the newest decoration.

“Magic is finite, but it is strong—immense—otherworldly. Why waste it on a mundane life? Why spit on the stars by merely surviving when we can use their blessing to thrive?” Another flick, this time downwards, and James dropped to the ground.

I knew I was spewing relative nonsense, but I couldn’t show that my family was the true sore spot.

Plus, I wasn’t wrong per say. “Within my veins beats not only blood, but a gift from the stars themselves. Magic thrums through my body, ready at all times to do that very thing you practically disregarded earlier.”

Tears dripped down James’ cheeks as I slowly made my way to him, the lacy black fabric of my dress scratching against my thighs and my blood-red heels clicking with each step upon the pale wood floors. Slowly, I lifted my entire hand, the man’s body rising with it.

“Create,” I whispered as I ordered the many plants he had potted around his home to encircle him, creating a sort of dome.

He screamed out, trying to fight off the plants.

“Kill,” I spoke next, willing the greenery to wither and fall, the pieces scattering below the hovering man.

My free hand went towards the remains, each twirl of my finger a demand for the remaining dead plants. The pieces vibrated upon the floor, reconnecting in a jagged and uneven circle.

“Conquer,” I hissed, willing the crown of death towards me.

I caught it with my right hand, quickly placing it on my head as I slashed my other hand downwards.

James crashed to his knees, sobbing as he kneeled there.

As he bowed to me. I knew this was simply my own unresolved issues coming out to play, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Or maybe it was that I wouldn’t. “By the way, don’t ever talk about my fucking family again. ”

So much for not revealing my true feelings.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he blubbered, his hands clasping together against his chest. Rolling my eyes, I took the last few steps toward him and bent down, the very finger I used to attack him sliding under his chin.

His sobs became louder, more violent. They racked through him, shaking his chest, stealing his breath.

“Shh,” I whispered, leaning down to peck his wet lips.

He only seemed to tremble harder. Fear. Such a powerful weapon.

One that had been wielded against me time and time again.

“I have been watching you for quite some time, James. Studying you, really. I know all about how your affair with Mr. Dorelli began. How you convinced him to leave his wife and five children for you. The contracts, the trustee appointment, the lies. Your plan to kill him—which is so very bold, by the way—and your many lovers on the side. Do you know why it was me that caught your eye? Because I made it so. I snuck into this home, watched as you brought in women and men, listened as they wooed you and in turn you ravished them. Every part of your well-plotted, predictable schedule still sits in my mind. That tavern we met at? You go there every evening right after your daily run. Just shy of four miles, starting here and ending there. I know which spots you prefer to take a breather and stretch at. What you drink. Who you see. I know it all, James.”

Cue the vomit. Right on time.

The lying, conniving piece of shit heaved, his entire body seeming to shrink as he convulsed. I watched in disgust, momentarily silenced. When he began breathing deeply, both of his hands coming up in surrender, I finally spoke again.

“I was always going to rob you, but I didn’t want it to come to this,” I whispered, my voice practically a hum.

And then, right as another snotty sob crawled up his throat, I pulled back my elbow and smashed my fist into his face.

Like they all did, the man crumpled, consciousness a faint memory within his mind.

From there, I made quick work of his belongings.

Three weeks ago, I climbed his gutter and crawled through his third-story bathroom window, which he always left open.

In less than an hour I had wandered all throughout the entire house, taking note of anything valuable.

I could’ve grabbed it then, but my pride—my desperation to feel strong—always led to me doing it this way.

Flying through his house as fast as I could, I snatched anything extra that I could fit in my bag, the crown falling off along the way.

Thank the stars I put that nearly endless charm on this thing.

I huffed as I swung the bag onto my shoulder. Like always, it was practically weightless, my magic holding it in that place between us and the stars—the ethers.