Page 24

Chapter

Twenty-Two

MALICE

M erri breezed into the room with a smile on her face and an energy I hadn’t felt from her since the last time we all fed her together.

“Morning, Mal,” she chirped, claiming the seat by my desk.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” I stated dryly.

She gave me a heavy dose of side eye. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Mal?” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “No... you’re this delightful on a regular basis.”

“I wouldn’t want to shock you with a deviation from my typical constitution.” I had to force myself to look away from her luminous skin and bright eyes. “I take it the live stream was fruitful? I can only assume, since I wasn’t directly participating.”

“Uh-huh.”

I spun back around. “I wasn’t. I was too busy handling the cameras.”

“Whatever you say, Mal.”

My eyes narrowed. “It’s true.”

She gave me a saucy salute. “I totally believe you, Mr. Singularity.”

Spine stiffening at her use of my handle, I set my jaw and forced myself not to react. She was baiting me. Merri knew exactly which of my buttons to push.

“Is that something you’d like to do more often? It seemed to suit you and see to your needs quite well.” In truth, if we could get her to live stream with Sin or Chaos on a semi-regular basis, that just might get us where we wanted to be. Namely, her pregnant and the apocalypse thwarted.

Her eyes grew distant and she shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. It was good for feeding, but I’m not sure how my core audience would feel about it.”

That reaction wasn’t what I expected. She seemed... hesitant. While Merri had always been guarded when it came to sex with a partner—until Sin proved she wouldn’t kill him—she’d maintained a very sex-positive attitude and wasn’t ashamed of her profession. For the succubus, sex was a necessary part of life. It wasn’t something dirty or shameful. So why would she have even a hint of shame or caution now? Perhaps during our training today I could uncover exactly what caused that response.

She seemed to return to herself, noticing that I was studying her. She straightened and blinked at me. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Latching onto the excuse, I nodded and moved closer to her. “A little toothpaste... right here.” I used my thumb to brush at an invisible spot beside her lower lip. If she caught the spark of sexual interest that blazed to life within me at the small touch, she thankfully didn’t call me on it.

I needed to get a hold of myself before I forgot who and what I was. I couldn’t go around touching her face and closing the distance between us like she was my lover if I expected to keep myself safe. I already cared about her far more than I should. Certainly more than I ever wanted to. My feelings for Merri were a complication neither of us needed. Especially since I had to watch her be impregnated by another man. Jealousy burned in my gut, but I doused the flames. Feelings, blech. They ruined everything.

The last time I allowed myself to care like this, I sired a son. And look where that got me. I’d been made a fool, a piece of me stolen, and above all, weakened.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are we going to practice?” Merri’s sweet and sass-filled voice yanked me back into the moment.

It was my turn to straighten. I took a few much-needed steps away from her. “Ready when you are.”

“You’re giving me advance notice this time? How gentlemanly of you.”

I sneered at her, my lack of amusement dripping from each and every word. “I thought it was time to see how far you’ve come in building your mental barriers since, until now, your mind has been as easily accessed as a Whitechapel whore.”

Merri pressed a palm to her chest and made an exaggerated O with her mouth. “Not the Jack the Ripper references! How scandalous.”

“Oh, excuse me. I meant sex worker. Though I doubt Jackie boy called them that.”

She rolled her eyes. “You probably were the Ripper, for all I know. You seem like the type.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Sneaky, quiet, arrogant . . . horny.”

There was no missing the challenge in her blue irises or the smirk curling her lips. Fuck. I knew she’d clock my lust the second it bubbled up.

“The Ripper was hardly horny. He hated women.”

“Or he wanted one he couldn’t have. Hate is but the other side of love, is it not?”

“And she’s a philosopher.”

Her eyes lit with mirth. “I’m telling you, the guy had blue balls.”

“Or perhaps he was aroused more by killing than he was fucking.”

“So... exactly like you then, Mr. Horseman, sir.”

A little growl built in my throat, and Merri snorted.

“I didn’t mean to touch a nerve. Sorry, we can start whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready.”

She beamed at me. “Great. Come at me, bro.” Then she squared her shoulders and shut her eyes.

Just as I sent the first tendril of my consciousness toward her, something yellowed with age sat on the shelf just behind her pulled my focus.

It was the little poppet I’d made for Pan. The one I’d never been able to get rid of.

Maybe it was because I’d already been thinking about my estranged child, or maybe it was all this talk of breeding that I’d been forced to participate in recently, but I couldn’t seem to look away from the toy. Nor could I let go of everything it represented.

“Well, if you aren’t going to play by the rules, why should I?”

It took more energy than it should have to tear my gaze away and look at Merri. “Wha?—”

The little poppet in my hands seemed to weigh so much more than it possibly could as I agonized over the meaning behind it. I’d nearly finished making it for him. Him. My child. I still couldn’t believe Odette tried to keep him from me. I knew she’d been up to something, but she always had been a sneaky bitch, so I hadn’t thought too much of it. Not until I’d been told about the baby.

She’d successfully hidden her pregnancy and the birth until a week ago when Chaos spotted her wandering through the streets of London with a bouncing aubergine baby on her hip as she spread yet another plague. Subtlety never had been her strong suit. Which was part of the reason I was still so fucking shocked she’d managed to keep a secret of this magnitude.

Chaos was certain of the child’s parentage. He’d said he could sense my aura tangled with hers. Not to mention, the baby had my eyes, and the last time I’d been with Odette lined up with the child’s arrival.

My fingers clutched at the silky fabric in my hands, and I sat back in my seat.

A child. I’d sired a child.

How?

I was supposed to be a means of destruction, and yet somehow I’d helped create life. It was unbelievable. I’d never considered myself father material. My existence was for one sole purpose: to bring about the end of the world through pestilence. But knowing I’d created a being who would live on and continue my line until such time came that the apocalypse ended it all was... thrilling. I could show him how to do so many things. We could create and spread disease together. He’d be a chip off the old block. The greatest and most fearsome gift I could give to humanity. Maybe one day he could even take up my mantle.

But first, I had to meet him. Which meant, unfortunately, I’d need to see Odette.

I stood, pocketing the toy as I turned to check my appearance in the mirror. Some unpleasantness could be tolerated in exchange for getting to hold my son for the first time. Realizing that a three-month-old would neither remember nor care what I looked like, I turned away from the mirror and took the step that would lead me out of my house and bring me to Odette’s doorstep. I could arrive directly in her room, but it seemed rude, and I needed her in good spirits. She so rarely was.

My hand shook as I rapped my knuckles on the door, the other shoved in my pocket and clutching my gift for the baby.

Then she was there, her demonic form hidden under the guise of a beautiful woman.

“Malice. So you’ve heard, then?” She looked me over and sneered. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

“My son, Odette. I expect to see my son.”

“Your son?” She cocked a brow. “I don’t recall you carrying him in your womb and then shoving him out nine months later. All you did was donate a little sperm. Hardly worth giving you any credit.”

“It would be a much different story if you’d informed me we were expecting him.”

Surprise widened her eyes. “Oh, would it? You would have, what? Made me your bride and created a happy little family?” A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Doubtful.”

“You didn’t give me the chance.”

“I would never give you the chance to chain me to you. I have plans for this little one. They do not involve you.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “But he’s my son.”

“No, Malice. He’s my son. As far as he will ever be concerned, you do not exist.”

I snorted in disbelief. “A son needs his father. He’ll come looking for me.”

“Why would he? He’s never going to know who you are. And when he asks, I’ll tell him you’re dead. War, perhaps,” she added in a musing fashion. Then she tossed me a grin that was all teeth. “Or maybe the plague. How poetic.”

“You cannot keep him from me. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” She threw her head back and laughed. “Hilarious. As if there’s anything you could do to stop me.”

“I’ll take him from you. You and I are matched in every way. All it will require is for you to turn your back for one moment.”

Her eyes narrowed, power flaring within them. “Attempt it and I will kill him faster than you can blink, Malice. I would rather he be dead than tainted by contact with you.”

The world felt as if it had dropped from beneath my feet. “You cannot be serious. He’s a child.”

“He’s a means to an end, Malice. But if you leave me with no choice, I will kill him.”

She was serious. This was no bluff.

“I thought you needed him. You had big plans, you said.” Panic curled in my chest.

Shrugging, she inspected her fingernails, which were more like talons. “I’d hate to have to start over, but I will. I’ve proven I can carry a child successfully. I certainly can do it again.”

“Odette, please . . .”

Her laugh grated like claws over glass. “If I’d known this was how to make you beg, I’d have tried it centuries ago.”

My voice was strangled as I tried one last time to make her see reason. “He’s my son.”

“And if you care for him, as you seem to, then you will stay far away. One hint of you nearby, and I will slit his throat without blinking. Do you understand?”

Misery and dread threatened to mow me down beneath their weight. Along with something unfamiliar. Something that didn’t belong to me.

Shock.

I was only half aware as Odette slammed the door in my face, my consciousness fracturing into two pieces. Then and now. One remained slumped against her door as I’d been so long ago. The other registered the foreign presence in my mind.

“No,” I whispered, the cold air of the London streets biting at my skin.

“No!” This time, a shout, but not aloud. I screamed in my mind and shoved at the intruder, who was seeing something I hadn’t invited them to witness.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, gone was the past. The air was warm and sweetly scented with Merri’s perfume. She stood in front of me, eyes swimming with unshed tears, sympathy etched into her features.

“Mal—”

“That’s quite enough.”

She reached for me, gentleness radiating from her. I couldn’t bear it. Not her pity and definitely not her touch.

“I said that’s enough! Leave me be.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean?—”

“Get the fuck out!” I roared, feeling far too raw to be around anyone right now.

That memory was one I’d locked away in the deepest recesses of my mind. She shouldn’t have been able to access it. But that fucking toy had drawn it to the surface, and with the influx of power she had in the wake of her session, it had to be as easy as plucking a ripe piece of fruit off a tree.

But there was a reason I’d locked that particular moment away.

A reason I couldn’t bear to relive it.

It was the one thing in my entire immortal existence that had the power to undo me completely.

Storming across the room as soon as she was gone, I grabbed the poppet and stared down at it, rage burning within my heart. I could not afford any more weakness, and that’s what love was. A tumult of emotions sent me to the window, chief among them desperation to free myself from this agony clutching at me. I opened the glass and threw the ancient child’s toy into the winter storm. It wouldn’t be long before the elements claimed the bit of fabric and straw. And perhaps then, I could be unburdened. Or perhaps I was simply fooling myself. I’d lived with the pain of that day for millennia, and it still had the power to flay me wide open. Odette had chosen her trap perfectly.

And it seemed I would never be free from its snare.