Page 63 of Malicent (Seven Devils #1)

Millicent

FEEDING IS A LOVE–HATE relationship.

The only part I hate is when the Nightmother takes over and I lose all awareness and autonomy. It’s unnerving to wake up disoriented, covered in guts in strange places with no memory of how I got there.

I crave control, and handing it over to my patron is the antithesis of what I value. Still, the power she gives me is undeniable.

Blood tastes exquisite. It makes me feel alive, vibrant, and charged with power.

The aphrodisiac effect? Not something I choose, exactly. In the right company, it’s not the worst thing.

Mostly, I’m just thankful. After feeding, I’m pain-free, and not even a bruise remains. My skin is flawless again . Perfect. I will always be that at the end of all things. I let a smile escape, just to myself as I arrive at the lab door.

I find Iris in her lab, elbows deep in a corpse. Despite the grotesque dissection displayed on her table, around her, light cheerful music plays and the high sun sends a kaleidoscope of colors through the windows.

“Good morning,” I call out, not wanting to startle her mid-incision.

“Morning, Mille!” She pauses her cutting and wipes her hands. The warmth in her voice and smile eases me. The last time I saw her, she was buried in magic and shadows. I’m relieved to see her grounded and her normal self again.

“I want to go over the attack last night,” I say, stepping closer. “I found some similarities between the Carnium Edax and Creptius Vox. It’s got me thinking.”

She grabs her journal and starts scribbling. “Go on.”

“The blood from both creatures, it’s black, and it reeks with the same rotting smell. What if they fed on someone already cursed? What if it spread that way?”

“Possible,” she murmurs, nodding along. “Or the land itself is tainted. Whatever malevolent force fuels this magic…might be warping the beasts and terrain.”

I cross the room to stand at her side.

On her table is something I can’t identify. Its skin is peeled away, its chest cracked open, and a slew of organs glisten in unnatural pinks, purples, and bruised blues.

“I need a living subject, someone with this on them. We have to keep one alive,” I say as I turn my attention from the corpse to her.

“The spies are collecting lists of traitors,” Iris says, flipping a page in her journal. “There are missing persons, too. Either might lead you to someone infected, but you want to keep them?”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, skeptical, and a flash of disapproval before she guards it.

“Yes. Dead bodies are your specialty. Mine is in the living. I want to study how the curse manifests in real time,” I reply, trying to explain my thought process.

Iris nods in agreement. “Kalix will have the latest communication. He’s probably out training the guards or in a meeting.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know exactly where he is,” I tease, stealing a quick glance at a bunch of scribbles that mean nothing to me in her journal.

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “He’s the one who keeps tabs on me, not the other way around.” She pauses for a moment. “I’m not sure how aware those cursed are. There are conditions where the individual suffers and killing them is a mercy.”

“Sacrifices have to be made,” I say within the breath of her finished sentence. “Life is suffering. Even those I bring here will die, Iris. I will be their mercy.”

She nods her head and gives me a tight, sad smile. “I’m learning better than to argue with you.” She approaches me and shoves me toward the door. “Now shoo! I’m working.” Any sadness is gone from her face, and I can’t help but smile back at her.

The door clicks behind me, locking, but I don’t feel shut out.

If anything, I know I’m distracting her too much if I stay. We talk too much. Always do.

I RUN INTO FELIX BEFORE I find Kalix.

The king looks especially regal today, drenched in gold, the metal catching it in the light with hardly a single thread of another color to interrupt it.

Guards flank him. His older, round-faced assistant trails behind him, listing the day’s activities.

“Ah! The lady of the hour!” Felix beams. “I’d heard you were half dead last night, and yet, here you are! Fresh as a daisy…or as resistant as a cockroach.”

“Wow. I’m swooning, your majesty,” I say sardonically, rolling my eyes at his approach.

“As all women do. Didn’t think you were immune, did you?”

His smile is all teeth—and trouble. I don’t doubt it works on most girls. I’m not most girls.

“Suppose not. Must be the nauseating excess of gold that attracts me.”

He only grins wider. “Like a dragon lured to its horde. Fitting—for something so cold-blooded and bloodthirsty as you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he threads his arm through mine and starts pulling me along.

“Now come have lunch with me.”

He never gives me a choice when it comes to these lunches. After the night I’ve had, a distraction sounds nice.

“Do me a favor in return, then.”

“Having lunch with the king is a favor done by you? Most see it as an honor.”

“Most haven’t had lunch with you, Felix.”

He pinches my arm. I shove him with my shoulder in return. His laugh is loud enough to echo, filling the corridor with his presence before we reach the hall’s end.

“What favor could I possibly owe you? Hungry for firstborns, or do you need me to find a man to slake your appetites?”

“You’re an idiot, Felix. Can you shut up for two seconds so I can talk?”

“I love talking. And you love hearing me talk. Just look at that face. Priceless.”

He reaches up and squeezes my cheek. I bare my teeth and snap at him. It only makes him laugh harder.

We round the corner to the private dining hall. I try my request again. “I need a cursed subject, alive.”

Felix sighs in exacerbation, like we’ve been on this topic too long. “Why can’t you ask for a puppy? Or a diamond necklace? Like normal women?”

“Why are you so against it?”

He gives me a look like I’ve started speaking in tongues. “You haven’t seen what people become under the influence of that—curse, right? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Yes, Felix.” My jaw tightens and my eye twitches at the remark.

“These people within my walls could easily become victims,” Felix explains, keeping his voice low. “Each infection behaves differently, and we still don’t know what a full manifestation looks like.”

He pauses. “I will agree if Kalix or Cage is on board.”

The dining hall doors swing open ahead of us. Gold gleams everywhere—plating, cutlery, and far too many candles. The light nearly blinds me.

“Don’t trust me to contain it?” I ask. “Remove my collar and—”

“Only Cage can remove it,” he interrupts, not even glancing at me. “And you did try to kill Kalix. So again, go ask them.”

I stop short at the threshold, resisting the urge to scream or pout. The price Cage would demand for such an ask would be unfillable because he is never taking this off until he deems it safe, and the bastard is on a power trip.

Felix swaggers to the head of the table, collapsing into his chair with all the grace of a spoiled prince.

“Tell you what,” he says, flashing me the biggest shit-eating grin. “Go track down some infected humans. Then come back and convince me they’re worth keeping alive.”

“Fine, I will.”

I hold my chin high and pivot to leave, only to find two nervous guards blocking my exit.

Slowly, I turn back. Felix still wears that smug grin, one hand raised in a command.

“Millicent,” he says sweetly. “Come have lunch. You look pale. And skinny.”

I stomp toward the table, uncaring that it makes me look like a sulking child. I drop into the seat opposite him at the other end of the table with a dramatic huff.

“You’re so far away. I feel like a divorced couple,” Felix chuckles, laying a napkin across his lap.

Servants file in with silver trays filled with meat, fruit, cheese, and of course, wine.

“Daddy issues flaring up already?” I smirk, accepting a glass of wine from a servant just as another begins plating my food.

“And mommy issues,” he adds. “Can’t forget about Mother Dearest.”

“Is she around?”

“Father is dead—hence the crown. Mother’s alive, unfortunately. You’d hate her.”

He winks at the servant girl arranging his plate. She blushes almost immediately.

“She’d hate me,” I counter, lifting my knife to slice into the lamb.

“True. She despises witches and anyone lowborn. Don’t worry. She’s too obsessed with high society to grace us with her presence.”

“Do you get your…spunkier traits from your father, then?” I ask, chewing the tender bite.

“My father was a tyrant.” He shrugs. “Let’s just say…I’m unique.”

“Yes, you’re very special,” I tease, plucking a grape free from its stem. Now, this does surprise me. How did someone resist being tainted by wickedness? How did Felix end up the way he is?

Felix laughs. “You as—”

A large crash cuts him off.

Ollie materializes in the center of the table, sending two fully plated dishes flying to the floor with a spectacular smash.

“HAHA. Whoa!” Ollie snorts, wiggling his long nose before scratching his ear with a hind leg like a dog.

Servants gasp and begin whispering at the sight of him.

“Ollie!” Felix grins, “I see you’ve joined us again.” He snaps his fingers. “Another cup of wine for our blue friend here.”

Ollie spins to face him. “Very good!”

He patters across the table, stepping in food and swiping a sausage mid-waddle. Plopping down beside Felix, he chomps happily, grease smearing across his body.

“No hello to me?” I call out, not truly bothered. He adores Felix, and I consider this enrichment time for them both.

“Me Misses, I am with you all the time!” He says, snorting between bites.

He reaches up with a stubby arm, hand opening and closing toward Felix in a clear give me motion.

Felix grins all too happily and obliges him without hesitation. He removes his crown and places it on Ollie’s head.

It’s far too large. His ears flatten, and it slips over his eyes, preparing to tumble past his chin.