Page 4 of Consume Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #4)

When Spells comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s already closed. At least, I avoided Natalia for one day. The moment my hand touches the knob, the daggers hiss. The buzzing in my temples returns with a roar.

I drop the handle like it burned me.

“What?” I demand.

Someone’s been here.

“Who? ”

More whispered muttering in a language I don’t understand. They only do it when they want to exclude me, so I purposely ignore them. I dart a glance around and then slip inside the shop, listening for some sound that might alert me to a threat waiting. But the shop is empty.

I climb the stairs at a run and hurry inside my apartment, slamming the door behind me. Then I fling the daggers out of their holsters and onto the counter, desperate to gain some distance and separation. But they continue to whisper and hiss at one another as if locked in some private debate.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand. “Who was here, and why do you care?”

They continue to hiss at one another in a foreign tongue.

Assholes.

I stalk into the bathroom and take my time in the shower, turning the water to scalding and letting it wash away some of today’s emotions.

When I emerge in shorts and a tee, the daggers have stopped their strange bickering. They’re calmer now, but that’s almost worse.

“Are you ready to tell me what the hell’s going on?” I ask.

Our ancient enemy has returned to the Earth realm. He searches for us even now.

“What does that have to do with me?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

You will destroy him for us.

“No,” I say, but the resistance feels flimsy. Like tissue paper trying to stop a storm. Because whoever this enemy is, the daggers might have drawn him here, but when he finds them, he’ll find me too. And I have zero illusions about how that will end for me.

A vision flashes in my mind for the thousandth time.

My death, courtesy of a ferocious wolf with gleaming fangs and a white star on his forehead, who?—

I blink, shutting it out.

I refuse to relive a moment that hasn’t happened yet. The moment I stop existing, to be exact.

We sense him. He’s a day’s walk across the river. Isolated. Easy.

“Why should I help you?” I demand.

His power is far beyond anything we’ve fed on before. We will share it with you. And then you will be unstoppable. Like us.

“Not a fucking chance.” My voice shakes. “You can’t make me become like you.”

What’s left to become? You are already dark fae.

They’re taunting me. Great.

“Dark fae is not the same as demon-cursed.”

Your bloodline makes you a killer. Just like us.

“My bloodline had free will,” I snap, thinking of my father. And then Tori. Both gifted assassins.

Being an assassin-for-hire is so much different than what they want from me. And I refuse to let them control me. I grip the corner of the counter and lean on it for support. My knees threaten to buckle.

Our enemy will come for you too. And then you will have no choice but to wield us.

I open my mouth and scream without sound, without air. Desperate but defeated. I’ve already lost. The daggers are silent, which means they know it too.

When I open my eyes again, I spot something on the counter in front of me.

A black envelope with my name on the front.

Startled, I look at the apartment door. It’s still closed. My fae senses search through the entire building, reassuring me I’m still alone here. Heart thudding, I look at the envelope again, curiosity winning out over fear.

We told you someone had been here.

“You said it was your enemy.”

No, but the magic that brought this envelope has crossed paths with our enemy as recently as today.

It should be impossible for them to sense that, but I’ve learned not to question them. They might be evil assholes who crave death, but they aren’t liars.

I study the envelope, considering.

Before I can reach for it, the daggers whisper, Ah. Much better. There’s another option after all.

My throat tightens, and suddenly, looking inside that envelope is the last thing I want to do. “What is it?”

Our enemy will be at the ball.

“What ball? What are you talking about?”

Open it and see.

I stare at the envelope, then the daggers. They have sight just like I do. It’s how they identify their marks—locate them. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s why they chose me. I see death just like they do. The difference is, they see it because they cause it. Then again, at their behest, so do I .

It terrifies me to think how much I’m just like them after all.

Open it, mortal. Let us make a bargain.

“What bargain?” I demand, an impossible sort of hope leaping inside my chest. They’ve never offered a bargain before. Only absolute dominance of my mind and body.

But they don’t answer my question. Clearly waiting for me to obey first. I snatch the envelope and rip it open.

Inside is a single piece of translucent parchment with black script and an image of a black serpent at the top.

A night of mischief, magic, and mayhem awaits you.

You are cordially invited to the first All Hallows’ Eve Ball at Crossroads. Arrive by the stroke of ten, dressed in your finest enchantments, or forfeit your place.

Masks are optional. Secrets are not.

See you soon, Kendall Sage.

V

I let out a bitter snort because, at this point, my entire life is a secret. Then I toss the parchment aside and turn to glare at the daggers.

“You set this up?”

We did not. We merely see an opportunity.

An opportunity.

“What’s the bargain?” I ask quietly.

Attend the ball. Wield us against our greatest enemy. And we will release you.

My breath catches in my throat. “Are you serious?”

We do not joke, mortal .

I stare at the twin blades whose sentience is the bane of my existence—and hope burns in my chest. “If I take out this enemy of yours, you will let me go?”

That is our bargain.

I hesitate, hating myself for even considering this.

Just because the daggers consider someone their enemy doesn’t mean that person has done something to warrant death.

Nor do I want to be the hand that deals it.

But to be free… to have my life back. And maybe even change my own fate, stop my own death. It’s a temptation I can’t resist.

The fact that I’ll have to do this at a party full of other supernaturals is definitely a downside.

I have a fleeting thought about some other poor soul being chosen in my place once I’m free.

The daggers binding themselves to an innocent.

I should refuse this bargain, protect others from suffering my same curse.

But when I open my mouth, the words that come out are: “I accept.”

The daggers purr.

And just like that, I seal a bargain with the darkness.