Page 11

Gluttony

“The stars are bright tonight. Celebratory.” “Astronomy doesn’t care about our wedding.” “There’s nothing worth caring for more.”

Seeing Greed awake and sitting up in his bed relieves me more than I’ll ever admit. One down, three to go. Then everyone who took them from us will die. Slowly. Painfully.

“What happened to you? Where are the others?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Glutt, give a guy a second to breathe.”

We don’t have a second. The others are still out there. He can focus on recovery once we find everyone. Lust gives me a look, and I roll my eyes. “Fine. One second.” I lift a boot to rest on the side rail of the bed, waiting.

“Let me look at you,” Lazarus says. He tilts Greed’s chin and turns his head from side to side, checking him over. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy. Like I’ve been used as a pincushion,” Greed says dryly. “And I have a goddamn fucking headache that’s threatening to explode my skull.”

“Likely all the light exposure. It should pass in a few days, but we’ll keep an eye on it.”

“Great,” Greed grumbles.

“I’ve flushed your system as much as I can. The grogginess should fade as you get the rest of it out. Open your eyes for me.”

Greed’s eyelids flutter, and then his multicolored gaze comes into view. A kaleidoscope of all our magic. We’ve never figured out why they’re like that, or what it means. When he shape-shifts, his eyes always remain the same. He can’t hide them, no matter what form he takes.

Right now, there’s a tinge of red at the corners of them. Light burned into them? No wonder he has a fucking headache. I’ll kill every person who held that light and anyone that watched like he’s some kind of lab rat. My brothers belong to me; every time they bleed, I make someone else bleed.

“There’s some damage,” Lazarus says. “It will heal, given some time. What did they do, specifically?”

“Wanted to see what made them that color. Extracted something from them. Kept shining different shades of light, along with colors. They used a goddamn flashing one, like I was at some seventies disco. I got out of the binds when they did that. That’s when they injected me with something, and I don’t remember anything else.”

My lips curl up in a scowl. Death won’t come swiftly for any of them. I might even throw them in a cell and keep them on the cusp between the living and the dead for years.

Lazarus pulls a black blindfold that smells like lavender from his bag and places it over Greed’s eyes, wrapping it around the back of his head and securing it in place. “Don’t take this off for at least twenty-four hours if not a little longer.”

Luckily, Greed’s learned over the years to not rely on his sight, not when it’s so unpredictable and vulnerable. He doesn’t need his sight to navigate the world anymore.

“They extracted something from your eyes?” Lust asks. “Did they say why?”

“They weren’t much for conversation. I had a few questions of my own, which they didn’t appreciate.”

“Were you always in that room?” I ask. If they didn’t move him around, they may not be moving the others either.

“Nah, they had me in some cell covered in fuckin’ Fae magic that I couldn’t touch. I tried a couple times and got some nasty-as-fuck burns for the trouble. Smelled like Dark Fae, which is impossible, right? I figured my senses were playing havoc with me because of the fucked-up experiments they were doing on me.”

“No. We’re familiar with it,” Lust answers. He taps his nails on the bedpost. “Conor produces it, and it seems to incapacitate us all.”

Greed turns his head toward Lust, lips parting in shock. “Did you just say Conor ?” He swivels to each of us, tracking us perfectly. He probably has a better view of the room than I do. “What the fuck did I miss?”

“Oh, you know, all the fun stuff,” Wrath says dismissively. “More chimeras, a little murder, Dark Fae and Conor coming back from the dead.”

“Just a few things, then,” Greed replies dryly. “I saw you kill him. He’s really alive?”

“Not for long.”

My sentiments exactly. Wrath and I will make sure he’s nothing but a stain on the earth by the time we’re done. Gone for good this time.

“Latent Fae genes, the same as Deacon,” Lust explains. “We haven’t been able to deduce why or how. Both activated when they were near death’s door. Or in Conor’s case, after death.”

Lazarus pulls out a syringe and stretches Greed’s arm out, finding a vein before pushing it in to extract blood. “It may be the reason why he seems stronger than Deacon and has more control over his magic.”

“Have I not been poked and prodded enough?” Greed complains, grimacing at where Lazarus holds him.

“I need to make sure everything is out of your system. Stop being a child; you didn’t even feel it.”

The second he finishes, Greed swings his legs over the side of the bed and tries to stand. He wobbles and sits back down with a frustrated sigh. “Fucking hell,” he curses.

“You need to rest,” Lazarus chastises him. “Get back in bed.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“We haven’t found them,” I say tersely. Hard enough to find Greed in the first place, and I’m thoroughly sick of this game of cat and mouse. “You’re the first. We need to know if they said or did anything that might indicate where they are. When did they split you up?”

“Pretty much straightaway. They did something to Nero and Raven when we first went in; they dropped like a sack of potatoes. Then they trapped Pride and me in this dome that we couldn’t get out of. Same stuff they used to keep me caged at the facility. Dragged the demons out; I didn’t see them again after that. We didn’t see any chimeras or Conor, though, so it sounds like you had a more interesting time than us. How did you get out?”

“Deacon,” Lust says shortly. “He’s immune to whatever Dark magic Conor is using. I’m concerned about the fact they seem to have weapons at their disposal that render us useless, even without Conor nearby. If he’s feeding them pieces of himself to make them, he’s walking a dangerous path.”

Dangerous for us all. If he tips over that particular cliff, we’ll have bigger problems than chimeras walking around and a hidden organization gunning for us. Conor has no idea what he’s playing with, and what it will do to him.

“You don’t know where they took Raven?” Lazarus asks, insistent. “What they might be doing to him?”

“Based on what they did to me, I’m not sure we want to know,” Greed admits with a pained expression. “But I don’t have any clue where they are. They injected Pride and me with something that made us both puke, and then I passed out. Woke up in that room alone. You know the rest.”

More questions. No fucking answers. Kicking the bed in frustration doesn’t make me feel better. “I can reduce this entire fucking city into rubble in a couple of hours. The only ones left standing will be us. Easy to find them then.” It’s the best solution, and if they had agreed with my plan in the first place, we’d already have all our people back. The humans will get over it.

“I’d like to avoid a massacre if at all possible,” Lust says. “We’re all frustrated, but we can’t upset the balance we’ve created.”

“Why not?” I snap. How long do we have to wait? Until they kill one of us? “They’ll recover, they always do.”

“Sometimes they don’t, Gluttony. And we need their strength. Something is coming, can’t you feel it?”

Of course, I fucking can. We all can. “One dead city won’t turn the tide.”

“Our city. Our home. This is where we’re strongest. It’s not an advantage I’m willing to give up just yet.” Lust lays a hand on my arm. “We’re getting them back,” he says softly. Trying to reassure me. It won’t work.

“You don’t know that. What do you think they’re gonna do with them once they get what they want?”

“We’re too valuable to kill,” Greed argues. “Based on the mutterings I managed to hear, they don’t know how to kill any of us. Plus, they’re more interested in gathering data than straight-out murder. They won’t dispose of us—or try to—until they get what they want.”

“The concoction Deacon had on him could have,” Lust says, looking to Lazarus for confirmation.

Lazarus shakes his head. “It would have taken you to the brink, but it’s not enough to push you over. Wouldn’t have taken much after that, though. They don’t seem to realize how close they are to working out the right formula. They think we’re more immortal than we are, and I’d prefer they not figure out the truth.”

Him and me both. Our strength lies in our secrets. Not revealing all our cards means they underestimate just how much damage we can do. It also masks the vulnerable parts we hide. Our weaknesses.

“Greed, rest. We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us.”

Greed is already asleep by the time we leave the room.

“How is he, really?” Lust asks Lazarus as we head through the hallways to our private kitchen.

“He’s malnourished, has internal damage, and had more drugs than blood in his system. Still, it shouldn’t take more than a few days of rest and proper nutrition before he’s back on his feet.”

“Good, we’ll need him.”

Envy’s already there, waiting for us with a freshly made loaf of bread—doesn’t smell as good as when Pride makes it—and various condiments strewn over the table. He has a plate of chocolate-chip cookies and a glass of milk in front of him.

Wrath drops into a chair, kicking back on it and dropping his boots on the table with crossed ankles. “So, what are we doing about these ‘guests’ of ours? We don’t actually believe their bullshit story, right?”

“They’re lying through their teeth,” I agree, sitting beside him and pulling the loaf toward myself. “They weren’t locked up and they certainly didn’t escape. I’ll find out who they are, and what they were doing with Greed.” And why the small one intrigues me so much. His eyes are a bright blue, like a cloudless summer sky. I have questions, and the sooner we’re done here, the sooner I’ll find them, no matter what I have to do to get them.

They’re hiding something, I’d bet my life on it. I’ve had enough of letting people into our home who are deliberately keeping secrets.

“You think Greed knows them?” Envy asks. He dunks a cookie into the milk before shoving the entire thing in his mouth. “What if they’re telling the truth, and they really were victims too?”

“They’re lying,” I repeat. Maybe they weren’t there to do harm, and maybe they aren’t some of the scientists that experimented on Greed. That doesn’t negate the fact they chose to lie to us instead of telling the truth. That alone puts them on my shit list and firmly in the enemy column.

“Either way, it’s still prudent to watch them,” Lust says reasonably. “Considering that Conor and whoever is behind him found a way to create chimeras, who knows what else they’ve been playing with?”

Wrath sneers at the mere mention of Conor’s name. Can’t blame him. The name doesn’t inspire particularly fond feelings in me either.

I slice up the rest of the bread and butter it. Enough to make myself three sandwiches. Wrath tries to grab one, and I zap him with a burst of electricity. It won’t hurt, but the warning speaks for itself. I’ll punch him next time. That will hurt.

“That’s the last of the bread,” Wrath growls. “You can’t hoard the food!”

I can hoard whatever the fuck I want. “You can always make more.”

“It never comes out like Pride’s,” he says, grumbling.

Envy offers him a cookie. Wrath stares at it for a second before taking it with a nod of thanks.

Deacon strides into the room, carrying my orb. Handling it like he thinks it’s his. It’s not. It’s also not glowing anymore even though he’s touching it.

“Did you break it?” I ask angrily, sitting up straighter. Do I go into his house and break his shit? Actually, there’s an idea.

“It’s not broken . I just… can’t get it to work.” Deacon sits beside Lust and drags the chair closer, so their thighs are touching. “It’s closed up tight, and even holding it isn’t doing anything anymore.”

“Like it’s out of juice,” Envy muses. “Do you think it needs Fae magic to power back up? Like a battery?”

It couldn’t. Not when a non-Fae created it in the first place. It may simply only have a finite number of uses. Though “out of juice” seems an apt description, considering how dormant it looks. I’d ask my shadow friend except I don’t know how to contact him or have any idea when he’ll show up again.

“Give it to me.”

“Why?” Deacon asks suspiciously. “You couldn’t make it work before.”

“It seems that now neither can you,” I drawl acidly. “It belongs to me. You’ve passed your usefulness, and I’ll have it back now.” If he doesn’t hand it over, he’ll have a fight on his hands. I won’t be leaving this room without it, and he won’t be leaving with it. No discussion.

Deacon glances at Lust, who nods and then tosses it to me.

The tightness in my chest eases as my fingers wrap around it. Good. The entire collection returned to me. Does my shadow have more of them? How many? I’ll have them all. I pocket it, the weight at my side strangely comforting.

Lust sighs and drags Deacon closer, smelling the top of his head. “I’d like to spend some time surveying the area around the lawyer’s office. There may be things we’ve missed. We’ll secure the building, relocate everyone, and take it for ourselves so that we can explore the rooms underneath at our leisure. Carefully.” He kisses Deacon’s temple. “Tomorrow.”

“Let me guess,” I say slowly. “We should rest.”

“Rest is important, Gluttony. We need to be at full strength and ready for anything.”

I hate that he’s right. “What about the prisoners?”

“We can give them another day to sweat. Wear them down that way, so when we come for them, they’re more amenable to answering our questions.”

A boring tactic. Lust favors the long game. I prefer to make them scream up front.

“Whatever,” I mutter. Gathering my sandwiches, I stalk from the room. I’ll rest. And then tomorrow I’ll make the world burn.