Page 6 of All Hallows Trick (Sick and Twisted #3)

CHAPTER FIVE

CAT

M y eyes were still gritty and sore, my head pounding, and while an orgasm might have mellowed my mood, it was only temporary. I was starving and groggy from broken, shitty sleep, and memories of last night took up most of the space in my head. I flexed my hands, but there was no hint of the claws I saw on the rooftop, not even a papercut visible to show where they’d appeared. But I knew I didn’t imagine them. I had claws, and Madde said my eyes turned black.

I didn’t know what that made me.

The stress returned in full force now, especially when I couldn’t find Tor in any of the rooms on this floor.

Voices floated up to me as I ventured towards the stairs, the décor vibrant and very Madde. I didn’t know much about the death god, but I learned more about him with every piece of art I passed—people in varying states of undress lounging on sofas, riding penny farthings, and sunbathing. Every tapestry— men riding into battle wearing clown costumes, others showing sombre scenes of death stitched in bright rainbow threads. There was a jade vase carved all over with kittens, a terracotta plate with a side-profile of Madness himself, and seventeen miniature hedgehogs each displaying a different martial art move. I counted them—seventeen.

The man was insane, but that shouldn’t have surprised me. Although of all the death gods I’d met, he embodied his name the most.

The voices got louder when I descended the staircase Madde carried me up last night, and now that I could hear them clearer, they were very obviously in the middle of an argument. Death’s voice was the loudest, followed by Misery’s whip-sharp tone, and the thought of them arguing with each other made my stomach sink until I realised it was Madde they were shouting at.

That wasn’t much better. My chest clamped up, and I didn’t want to examine the tightness too closely when Madness was a stranger I shouldn’t have cared about one bit.

The trouble was he wasn’t a stranger. Even if I only met him yesterday, he’d been with me for years. It was strange, and more than a little unsettling, that some man I’d never met had been watching me, listening in on my thoughts, encouraging my violent tendencies but … A year ago, I would have been horrified. Maybe even six months ago I would have snapped at him to stay the hell away from me and keep out of my head. But after everything that had happened with Nightmare, with the deaths and the curse … I was tired, and afraid, and the thought of never actually being alone during that time was more comforting than it should have been.

For better or worse, my darkness had a face and a voice. And that voice was currently arguing with my husbands.

I sighed, trailing my fingers over the spotless cherry wood bannister. 1 At the bottom of the staircase, I followed the voices through the sitting room where we met the doctor last night into a large kitchen bathed in sunlight. Suncatchers reflected prisms of rainbow light across white cabinets, rose quartz counters, and the kitchen island where my men stood, shoulders bristling and arms crossed. Madness lounged on a stool across from them in a loose burgundy blouse, tight leather trousers, and fishnet gloves, his feet kicked up on the island. His blue eyes were smoky with makeup, his expression utterly unbothered.

“If you think I’m going to—” Death began in a low growl, his warm caramel voice roughened with uncommon anger.

At the sight of me, the argument ground to a halt, and four sets of eyes swung to me. Not three. Four. I paused in the doorway to let them look at me, sensing their heightened stress and knowing they needed to reassure themselves I was fine, but the second my eyes locked with rich, latte brown I launched across the glossy white floor, not stopping until my arms were around Tor.

“You’re awake,” I gasped, trying not to squeeze him too tightly, conscious of every place he’d been hurt. Every place I’d hurt him. The scent of him slammed into me, amber and sandalwood filling my lungs. His heat bled into my body, a reassurance so violent that it hit me like a punch. I wanted to squeeze him and draw him into me and never let go. But I forced myself to pull back, swallowing as I looked into his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

His warm hand lifted to my face, and my eyes screwed shut, pain forming a tight band around my chest. There was forgiveness in the tender glance of knuckles on my jaw, in the arm that locked around my back, pulling me into his strength and comfort, his hand cradling the back of my neck.

“Nothing to be sorry for, beautiful.”

His voice was a hug and a dagger to the heart all at once. “But I hurt you.”

Tor’s arm tightened, pressing me so hard into him that he must have hurt. “And I fucking loved you marking me. I hope this scars so I can bear it for the rest of my life.”

His response made me jerk against him, staring at his beautiful face, that dichotomy of softness and severity, his plush lips curved into an unrepentant smile and latte eyes so soft that my eyes stung. His skin had warmed a few degrees, his ink not quite so stark against his arms and throat, and he looked well but looks could be deceiving. I swallowed the lump in my throat, unable to forget the way he looked pale and sweating and sick on the sofa just last night.

“You’re completely mad,” I rasped.

“Actually—” Madde began.

“Shut the fuck up,” Miz snapped. “Let them have their moment.”

“I hurt you,” I said in a small voice, my chest hurting as I looked at Tor, felt him solid and warm in my arms. “Even if you like being marked like a total lunatic, I hurt you. You were bleeding and weak and poisoned because of me, Tor. I need—I need to know how you feel. Don’t sugarcoat it.”

He sighed, fingers stroking up and down my back. “My shoulder hurts. The back of my thigh feels like it got rampaged by a unicorn horn covered in acid. And my back’s aching like a bitch because of the shitty position I slept in.”

“You’re welcome, asshole,” Miz muttered. “You’d still be dressed in bloody clothes if I hadn’t changed you. And you looked comfy enough.”

“I wasn’t,” Tor quipped, nuzzling my shoulder even as he shot Miz a smirk. “You should know I’m only comfortable pressed up against my wife.”

“You were right beside me,” I said, tentatively stroking my fingers up his side where he hadn’t been injured.

“Not close enough.” He dipped his head, warm lips lingering on the shell of my ear. I remembered the vibrator inside me all at once, my pussy fluttering around it. “Unless my cock’s buried inside you, I’m never fucking close enough. You wanna know how I’m really feeling, my cute little succulent? My cock’s as hard as diamond and aching to be in your pussy. I want to feel you rippling around me as you come. I want you to fucking drench me until the scent of you is burned into my senses and I can’t get you out for the rest of the day. No, fuck that, the rest of the week. I want to consume every last inch of you, and I want you to ruin me in return. My beautiful girl, my perfect wife. If you think seeing you shifted into a gorgeous creature has changed my affection for you, you’ll be surprised to learn I am even more obsessed with you now.”

I couldn’t breathe.

A second pulse pounded between my legs even as I wanted to cry. I settled for pulling him closer, resting my head on his good shoulder as emotion and heat burned up in my chest, scorching my throat, my face, my eyes.

“I love you,” I choked out. “Tell me you’ll be okay.”

“I’ll be just fine, Cat.” Tor’s lips brushed my ear, then my jaw. “I might be short, but I’m stronger than I look.”

“You’re not short,” I mumbled.

“Ha! Please inform our darling Misery of that fact this instant.”

I laughed, tucking my face into his shoulder, dragging in the scent of him, revelling in the feeling of him here, teasing, smirking, seducing…alive.

“You’re really okay.”

“My cock’s in constant agony at the mere sight of you, but otherwise, yeah.”

I kissed an intricate tattoo on the side of his neck, a smile pulling up my lips. “I’ll take care of you later.” My pussy clenched at the thought of all the delicious things he could do to me—and oh, god, all the things I could do to him. I knew I was making a mess of my underwear, the vibrator still but an exhilarating threat. I shot Miz a dark look at the reminder of his demands, and he returned a neutral, innocent look over the top of a teacup painted with pink sunflowers.

Finally accepting that Tor was okay, even if he wasn’t remotely healed yet, I turned my attention to my other men, scanning Miz first; sleep-rumpled and smug with his ivory hair loose and his white tee riding up to bare a sliver of toned stomach, unhurt except for the bandage ringing his bicep. Death, watching Tor and I with an endless well of love, wearing dark sweatpants and a rare hoodie emblazoned with a prairie dog and the words LITTLE HOUND ON THE PRAIRIE. 2 His posture was stiff with what I realised now was more than just hostility at Madness’s nearness, the baggy clothes concealing his injury.

“Death?” I asked, kissing Tor’s jaw before I released him, approaching the rose quartz island where he leaned beside Miz. “How’s your back?”

“Much better,” he assured me, his voice oozing warmth and care, making an answering warmth bloom in my chest. We’d been gentle during sex but he still could have aggravated the wound.

I rested my palms on his chest when I came to stand before him, my head tipped back to meet his soft grey eyes. “I know you’re lying. Tell me the truth, and tell me what you were arguing about before we came in.”

“We weren’t arguing,” Death began, but he sighed when I gave him a look. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, little bride. I’m handling it.”

I looked at Miz, then Tor, but they wore matching expressions of softness and stubbornness. They weren’t going to tell me. Right. I turned my attention to the madman lounged across the island, currently throwing chocolate-covered-peanuts into the air with hands tipped with hot pink fingernails, catching them with his mouth.

“Madness,” I said.

“Yes, dear?” he asked, snapping his head down to give me his full attention, the weight of his electric blue eyes making the back of my neck prickle and my heartbeat quicken. The peanuts fell to the floor with dull little clatters, completely forgotten.

“What were you talking about before I came in the room?”

“Oh.” He glanced at my men. “They probably want to conceal it from you in a misguided attempt to protect you.”

“I figured that out myself, thank you.”

He beamed, like I’d said something that pleased him, and did a happy little shimmy. “You’re so clever, my lioness.”

Death’s chest rumbled with an inaudible growl; I glanced at him in surprise, rubbing my thumb across his chest.

“And are you going to keep it from me to protect me?” I asked Madness.

He scoffed. “As if. You’re one of the most powerful beings in any realm; why would I need to protect a lioness? You know they’re the deadliest, don’t you? Lions might seem impressive with their roars and fancy hairdos, but lionesses are fierce. Lethal. Between the two of us, I’m the damsel in need of saving. As if I would ever conceal the truth from you.” He scoffed, tossing his short hair like it was as long at Miz’s. “But I would enjoy ripping off a few heads if it removed threats from your life. Do you want me to murder your enemies, lioness?”

My head spun a little the way it always did when I spoke to Madde. “Uh. Ideally, yes?”

He nodded firmly. “Done. And to answer your question, the domain is decaying around us. Not too far from here a whole street fell into nothingness. It happened again last night. The whole realm is falling apart, my lioness, my sweet little sugarplum, and there’s been a teensy development overnight.”

“What development?”

Madde turned wide eyes on my men. “How exactly do I explain it…?”

“Just tell me,” I sighed.

“It’s difficult,” Death murmured, kissing the top of my head, and all at once anger hit. Like tinder struck with a flame, it ignited. Blood pounded in my ears, my breathing escalating so quickly I couldn’t contain it. Like a switch flipped, I was furious.

“Just tell me!” I snapped, panting, my teeth bared and too sharp to be ordinary. “Stop keeping things from me and tell me!”

“Oooh, pretty black eyes again,” Madde said, startling me when he dropped his feet to the floor and leaned across the island for a closer look.

That was all it took to knock the rush of heat into ice, into shock, into panic.

He pouted, watching me with his chin propped on his hand. “Aww, now they’re gone.”

My breathing was ragged, my hands shaking. No claws—I checked. But my eyes had turned black. My beast side was coming through, breaking apart the girl, that fragile shell, until my true nature showed. And I didn’t know what that nature was. I’d barely known what it was for the past three years. A killer. A liar. A fraud. But now?

I jumped when warm hands turned me and caught my face, and suddenly I was looking into Tor’s eyes as Death stroked my back and Miz grasped my hand, squeezing tight.

“It’s easier to show you, beautiful.” Tor’s lips pressed to my forehead, lingering. “Come with me.”