Page 5 of Consume Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #4)

Kendall

“ Y ou’re really doing this?” Natalia asks, holding up the plain silver gown I’ve selected with two fingers like it has personally offended her. “Vaelora’s masquerade meat market?”

She shoved her way into the apartment ten minutes ago and already seemed to know I was up to something. Stupid witchy senses. It took her all of five seconds to spot the invitation on the counter.

“I didn’t say I was excited about it.”

She lifts a brow, letting the dress fall back to the bed where I’ve laid it out next to another one—a red number with a slit up the side. It’s a size too big for me, but these are all I’ve got in terms of formalwear. “You didn’t say you weren’t coerced into it either.”

I busy myself with the tea I’m pouring, not ready to look her in the eye. “Funny you say that because they, uh, offered me a deal.”

Natalia lowers the second dress slowly, her full attention on me. “That’s not alarming at all. Do tell—what did the bloodthirsty ancient murder blades whisper to you this time?”

I exhale through my nose, forcing the words out. “They said… If I go to the party and kill someone for them, they’ll let me go.”

Natalia, who never misses a beat, simply blinks. Finally, she says, “You realize that entire place will be crawling with witnesses.”

“I can be discreet.”

“And if you can’t?” I don’t answer, and she snorts. “So, they’ll let you go once you’re wanted for murder. How gracious of them.”

I glare at the daggers, who are whispering their own colorful opinion on Natalia’s reaction.

“Please tell me you didn’t agree,” she adds. My gaze snaps back to Natalia’s, and apparently, my guilt is evident because she groans. “Have I taught you nothing?”

“You taught me everything,” I rush to tell her.

“Clearly not enough.” Her disapproval is written all over her face, and my shoulders sag.

“I’m desperate , Nat.”

Her gaze softens. Only by several tiny centimeters, but I’ve learned to read her after so many years. It’s enough to make me admit how bad it’s gotten, something I’ve refused to do out loud until now.

“I can’t control the visions when they come. And I can’t account for the time I’m under their control. Three days ago, the visions came on as I was stocking shelves, but when I came out of it, I was standing in the street. I have no idea how long I was out of it or what I did during that time. ”

“You have to fight them,” Nat hisses, determination glinting.

I swallow hard. “I’m trying. Do you know I buried them in the hills outside the city the other night?”

She blinks, the only hint of her surprise. “I’m guessing the attempt failed?”

“They were waiting for me on my pillow when I returned.”

She curses, glaring hotly at the blades. “I’ve burned through every contact I have, looking for information about these things, but there’s nothing. If we knew where they came from, how they were forged, and what sort of magic they possessed, maybe we could?—”

“We’re out of time for that,” I tell her.

And even though we both know I’m right, her lack of protest threatens to undo me.

“They’re smart,” I go on, uncaring if the damned things hear me.

It’s not like I’m saying anything they don’t already know from living in my damn head.

“But more than that, they’re patient. I don’t know how much longer I can resist before they start making all my decisions for me. ”

Natalia stalks to the counter where the daggers lie, humming with power. “And you think a fancy party with drunken revelry and too much glitter is the answer to your problems?”

I shake my head. “We’ve tried everything. You know we have. And every road we followed said the same thing: The only way the daggers move on to a new wielder is upon the death of their current one.”

“Fuck that.” Natalia’s expression darkens. “No one harms my protégé unless I order it done. ”

A bitter laugh slips out because, as scary as it sounds, I could see Natalia disposing of a student who disappointed her.

In the silence that follows, Natalia sighs.

“I’m not saying this deal is a good idea,” she says. “But I get it.”

I exhale, relieved she’s not fighting me on this anymore. “You know this Vaelora person,” I say quietly. “That means the party’s legit? It’s not a trap?”

Natalia snorts. “Vaelora doesn’t do illegitimate. She’s an ancient fae with a love of secrets. But she doesn’t do violence—not in her own house anyway. Only romance. Rumor has it she’s some kind of matchmaker.”

“A matchmaker? Seriously?”

“Supposedly. And cursed, if the rumors are true. She can sense others’ mate bonds but can’t find her own.”

“That’s tragic.”

“A bit too dramatic for me,” Natalia says.

“But it means you don’t have to worry about her setting you up.

” I exhale, glad to hear it. “If I were you, I’d focus on your own task.

And watch your back with those things,” she adds, nodding at the daggers.

“Considering the sheer number of guests attending, I have a feeling the daggers are using this arrangement for more than spilling blood.”

“You think they’re going to pick a new wielder when they’re done with me.”

“I don’t know what they’re planning. That’s what I don’t like.”

“Add it to the list.”

She reaches for the silver gown. “This is the one.”

“Really? It’s kind of plain. I was thinking?— ”

Magic surges, and I watch as the dress shimmers then suddenly transforms. In its place is a gown that sparkles like diamonds.

Embellishments along the shoulders and bodice lift away from the lacy fabric, curling into hardened points as if water froze mid-splash.

The look of it is sharp as ice. I can only stare at the decorative bodice and full skirt, struck by the way Natalia just completely blew my mind with a flick of her wrist.

“Is that what you were thinking?” she asks.

I gape at her. “This is way better than whatever I was thinking.”

She shrugs. “It’ll do. Try not to get blood on it.”

I reach for it, running my hand over the intricate beadwork that shines like ice crystals even in this dim lighting. “This is perfect, thank you.”

“Oh, almost forgot. Accessories.” She snaps her fingers, and a tiara headband appears next to the dress, along with a thin necklace that perfectly matches the corded lining of the bodice and the glittery jewels sewn into the lace.

“What’s this?” I hold up a weapons holster that’s far smaller than the one I have now.

“A thigh holster.” Her brow lifts. “Were you planning on just carrying those things in by hand?”

“No, of course not. Wow. Natalia, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I don’t know. I enjoy the private joke, seeing the city’s deadliest dark fae in a dress made of ice crystals that shine like pure light.” Her smirk is twisted.

I shake my head.

Natalia starts for the door but stops, saying, “Oh, one more thing: If this doesn’t work, you’re calling your sister.”

“What?” I frown at her. “No. I told you, I don’t want to drag Tori into this.”

“Tough. I’m giving you tonight, Kendall. One night to see what this bargain really means. But if you walk out of that mansion with those daggers in your possession, you call in reinforcements. End of discussion.”

I nod tightly, knowing there’s not a chance in hell I’ll win this argument. “Deal.”

Natalia smirks faintly. “Take care in that dress, Kendall. It’s a weapon too.”

I haven’t worn a dress since Tori’s wedding.

And even then, it was black, boring, and spelled with twenty-seven different protection wards because Legion had been worried some dark creature was going to make a move on me during the primal hunt part of their ceremony.

Not that I blamed him. I’ve seen what some of their citizens act like during Tartarus’ mating moons, so I didn’t argue.

But this dress… This one is beyond anything I’ve ever worn, boring or otherwise.

In the mirror’s reflection, I note how the silver silk clings in all the right places and floats in others while the icy embellishments on the bodice glitter in the light.

The hem swishes around my ankles. I even did my makeup with a smoky eye and a dusting of shimmer across my cheekbones.

My hair’s braided up, crown-style, which is more practical than fancy, just in case it comes to a fight.

For a fleeting second, I pretend I’m the old me. The carefree, flirty younger sister who loves to dance and spends her time wondering if she’ll ever get a boyfriend. Or fall in love. Or be as happy as her parents were when she’s finally mated.

But the daydream doesn’t last.

Reality crashes in when the daggers hum their impatience from where I’ve strapped them to my thighs.

Demanding fuckers.

They’re especially insistent tonight, which tells me this moment is just the calm before the storm. Whoever this mark of theirs is, I suspect they won’t go down easy.

And try as I might to summon my own sight so I can see how this might go, no visions come. It’s as if my power is completely at the mercy of the daggers now; no longer my own.

With a sigh, I snag the invitation off the counter and read the coordinates etched into the back. My phone’s navigation feature pulls them up easily enough and offers directions. After one final deep breath, I square my shoulders and then walk to the door.

This is either the beginning of my freedom… or the last night of my fucked-up life.

Either way, I open the door and walk through it.

Twenty minutes later, I’m on the outskirts of the city, on a dirt path lined by gnarled trees and old spell-burned stones.

The moon glows overhead, but everything else is shadows and silence.

Not a soul in sight. Just fog rolling low over the forest floor, thick and cold, curling around my boots as I shift left then right for some clue I’m in the right place .

“This has trap written all over it,” I mutter, but I keep moving anyway.

I don’t have many options left.

After another moment, the wind stirs.

And then?—

The fog shifts.

Clears.

And a separate path appears.