14. THE DAY THE WORLD BURNED

Chapter fourteen

THE DAY THE WORLD BURNED

L ana glided her pawn up a square.

"Clever move, but if I do this…" I pushed my knight out, taking her pawn in one swoop.

"Ugh, I didn't see that coming. Mean!"

"Ha. Sounds like someone is jealous."

She laughed, but her smile quickly gave way, replaced by a furrowed brow and pinched lips. I turned the cool stone piece over in my hand.

"What's that face for?" I asked.

"I just…I never thought it could be like this."

"Like what?"

"Easy. Safe. I've…I've never really had that in my life. You're kind, Cooper."

My hand clenched around the pawn. As if I hadn't already been foaming at the mouth to end Malachi, seeing this sweet, kind, talented young girl shy away from my touch as I reached across the board—despite her knowing she was safe—made my gut drop.

"You know," I said gently, "there are far more kind people in this world than you think."

"Not in my experience. I suppose that's what I get for being out after dark when mama said not to, and now she's—" her words caught in her throat.

I knew that look: the echo of loss and misplaced guilt within it. "I am sorry the world has not been kind to you, Lana, but you do know that none of this is your fault, right?"

She huffed but didn't meet my gaze.

"Do you hear me? None of what you have been through is your fault. There are wicked people in this world who hurt others simply because they can." I leaned closer. "But want to know a little secret?"

Finally, she looked at me, her face flushed from rising tears.

"You," I said, "have an incredible future ahead of you. One filled with love and safety and every other good thing you deserve. You know why? Because Fate blesses those with kind hearts."

"Right."

"I think you forget that it was you who encouraged me when I arrived here. You told me to be safe and kept my secret. People with hearts like yours—who offer kindness to a stranger in need—are rewarded."

"You really think so?" she asked.

"I know so. One day, you're going to look back on all this, and it will be nothing but a speck in the grand story of your life. Now wipe those tears; we have a game to finish."

She sighed, but a smirk widened on her cheeks. Her eyes went wide as she looked over the board, and she shifted her knight with a giddy laugh.

"Checkmate!"

I grinned, knowing full well I'd left my queen wide open. "You got me."

For weeks Suri and I had waited for Malachi's grand viewing party, and finally our time had come. In the quiet morning hours while the rest of the world slept, my limbs buzzed with anticipation. I could almost taste the blood in the air. The time for vengeance was upon us. I'd end them all.

"How do we ensure they don't run?" Suri asked, smoothing her crimson mini skirt.

Ah, the question I'd mulled over for the past twenty-four hours. One, I admit, I was eager to answer. I turned to Suri, who stood before my full-length bedroom mirror tending to the sharpness of her eyeliner wings.

I shook a bottle of gin. "This is how."

"Booze?" Her brows creased, meeting my gaze in the reflection. "Surely they can't all be as easy to manipulate with substances as the Lord and his mate."

But a drunken stupor wasn't my aim. Not this time. I'd taken my winged form the night before—returning to the Evermoor Woods to confirm Kimber's findings—and solidified the horrifying truth of Malachi's ties to baneful magic. But to my surprise, I'd also stumbled on our saving grace: white oleander. Being that poisonous plants had always been a strange curiosity of mine—hence the floral tattoos winding up my arms—I knew the second I saw those star-shaped flowers tucked under a single, pointed moonbeam that Fate had smiled on us yet again. It seemed that although the future Fate and Death were torn from one another's arms, Juniper wouldn't let go so easily.

I'd lingered on that truth as I'd foraged the blooms. Even from realms away, Juniper's love for Kimber shone down, her helping hands guiding my steps. I wondered if the Old Goddess directed June, too. If the mother of Elysium had brought me to Anathema and instigated Suri's and my paths crossing. How else had Suri—in all her fierceness—ended up at Kimber's side? It couldn't have been happenstance. The future Death, a pureblood shapeshifter, and a demon seamstress fluent in tinctured magic: united in their efforts to see Anathema returned to balance. Could it?

What if we'd gotten it wrong? What if the Old Gods did still play a hand in divine intervention? I made a mental note to research further into the realm creators' history. Because if they truly did hold sway? I'd need to find a way to thank the Goddess for orchestrating these moments and granting me a chance at hope.

For a moment, I considered my own worth. If Fate in her divinity saw fit to bless those around me, then maybe I too was deserving. A strange, unusual thought. Maybe I had belonged somewhere all along: here in the realm of eternal night. Maybe…I'd always had a home.

One I was now called to protect.

Striking yet humble, the oleander flower hid a sinister secret in its seemingly harmless leaves and petals. If touched, you risked an irritating rash. But if ingested? It became a harbinger of death: blurred vision, vomiting, and heart palpitations. It was the perfect tool if you were trying to incapacitate a person to, say, trap them in a burning building. I'd ground the petals into a paste, mindful not to allow the mixture to touch any open scrapes or cuts. After an hour or so of reduction time, their hue grew pale and undetectable when mixed with triple-distilled gin. A silent killer.

"White oleander," I told Suri with a mischievous grin. "If the flames don't get them, the poison will. Which reminds me: when I raise a toast, don't drink."

"Noted."

"Gods, I hope this works."

The fiery demon walked towards me and placed her hands on either side of my face. On contact, her iridescent magic curled around me, settling my trembling shoulders. Together we took three deep breaths.

"It will work, Coop. Fate clearly has your back; and where she dispenses retribution, success follows. Trust yourself."

Her words brought my mother's back again: Fate smiled upon you, gave you a special gift.

For the first time, I think I actually believed it.

I rested my chin atop Suri's head and squeezed her tight. Crazy: how quickly someone could become an irreplaceable part in one's life. Her desires and thirst for revenge had not only fueled me; but if it weren't for her comfort and reassurance, I wouldn't have made it this far.

"I trust us . This." I stepped back to look down at her. "Our friendship. I hope you know how much I treasure it. How I appreciate you and all you've done for Kim and these girls. For me. You are one badass woman."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she slapped my chest. "You sap. You're going to ruin my makeup!"

"My apologies." I laughed.

"But really, you coming to Anathema, walking alongside me...I am forever grateful. I am in your debt."

Oh, absolutely not. I wiped her cheeks, lowering myself into her sight line. "You, Suri, do not owe anyone anything. You are a treasured part of this realm, and your loyalty will not go unnoticed."

She smirked and whispered, "Yes, my King."

Her words sucker-punched me in the gut. King? I was no king. Lyvias had been intended for the throne, sure. But me? No. An orphan estranged from his home could never hold such a title…could he?

The train to Plavin Park ground to a sparky stop. This was it: no turning back. The chips would fall where they may, and in the end, death would come. Though as I looked at the anticipation in the tinctured magic swirling above Suri's head, a sickening realization came over me: death might not come for those wicked men alone. The thought made my stomach turn. I'd been prepared to sacrifice my own life if it came to it, but I hadn't prepared to risk losing someone else. Again. We boarded, slid into the plastic seats—doors whooshing closed behind us—and Suri rested a hand on my knee.

"Deep breaths," she reminded me.

Right. I could do this. Don't be a pussy, Cooper.

Unlike our last visit, the club windows were dark on our approach. Nobody greeted us at the door as we entered. There were no flashing lights or booming bass. No men perched in the cushioned leather chairs, bidding on women trapped inside glass boxes. Instead, erected in the center of the round room was a long banquet table. Atop it, red candles flickered in ornate candelabras. Black bouquets lined the room's edges, and a stringed quartet filled the space with rich song that on any other occasion would have soothed me. More than a dozen heads turned as we stepped into the room, the guests' true identities concealed behind porcelain masks. A lion. A bear. A falcon. All predators set to devour the meal laid atop a silver platter in the table's center. Bile crept up my throat.

The young woman from behind the painting.

Her eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell with steady breaths. Still alive. Time seemed to stop as I took in every little detail of the disturbing scene. Flowers peeked through the carefully curated waves in her hair, small braids splaying out around her like rays of sunlight. She almost appeared at rest, peaceful, if not for the rope that bound her like a pig strapped to a spit. My attention drifted to the needles inserted in various places on her body—wrists, neck, feet, and legs—each tapped straight into the vein. Connected tubes fed into multiple goblets positioned before the guests.

Drip, drip, drip.

The iron perfume threatened to undo me, but my growing rage squashed the selfish desire. I would have my fill of blood yet; it just wouldn't be hers. When I saw the blade at her side—encrusted in rubies and emeralds—the final piece clicked into place, and my fingers flexed at my side. This woman…she wasn't merely a meal; she was a sacrifice.

We'd walked into a damned ritual.

I glanced at Suri in my peripheral to find her jaw tight. Oh yeah, these fuckers would pay for their sins.

Malachi jumped from his seat at the head of the table. "Ah, there you are, Lyvias. We feared you might have lost your way."

I forced a smile in return. "Me? Never. Fashionably late is all."

He chuckled as a nearly nude woman collected our jackets. Shoulders back, he led us to our spots and introduced those already seated, one by one. Most guests were merely pompous businessmen and their giddy trophy wives, but one couple erected red flags in my mind instantly. Heavy, tar-like magic surrounded them, threatening to choke the air from my lungs.

"You remember Duke Jarlin and his beautiful bride, Duchess Nova," Malachi stated.

"Indeed. Thank you for joining us." I placed a kiss on the Duchess's hand.

"It is an honor, Your Highness," she replied. "As the house mother, I wouldn't dream of missing such a celebration."

House mother?

Malachi leaned in close. "Duchess Nova is the sole reason our girls are cultured and well-mannered, you see. She takes these broken, worthless things and creates beauty. A true artist."

A blush crossed her cheeks, and I fought the urge to rip her throat out. Appalling: to pride oneself on such an immoral duty. It riled me to my core, but I leaned into my character, eager to speed up the morning's imminent end.

What would a soulless vampire Lord do?

He would drink. I reached across the table, snatched the goblet laid out for me, and swirled the crimson liquid inside. My mouth watered despite my disgust, but I would need my strength if I hoped to save the poor girl. Turning to the Duchess, I raised the glass to my lips; my focus fixated on her as she sipped from her own.

"Delicious, is she not?" Nova asked.

While I'd tasted the young woman's blood on prior occasions, a new, sharp note I hadn't noticed before hung on my tongue. "Quite. Who knew humans could be so intoxicating?"

"Ah, but she is not just any human," she explained. "This, Your Highness, is the heir to the Nightshade coven. Her lineage ties back to the very first mortals blessed with power by Fate and Death as penance for their ravenous children pushing humanity to near extinction. Her magic and blood are uniquely endowed with cosmic energy."

Suri's hand tightened on my arm. Not fucking good.

The couples nearest us cheered at Nova's words, clinking their silverware against their goblets. Odin motioned for us to take our seats, and Malachi addressed his guests.

"My brethren, this morning we celebrate you and all you have accomplished. This club, as you well know, is my pride and joy. One I wish to see thrive—"

His words dissipated into the background as my sights traced along the crowd, settling on a lone man to my left. His cerulean eyes—like the sea on a clear sunny day—and round cheeks gave me pause. Familiar, but how? He offered me a wink, and it hit me. It was him: the man I'd met at the training grounds on my first day in Anathema.

"Two dukes sit amongst us," Malachi continued, "ready for change. Tell me, Duke Jarlin, Duke Adari, are you ready to claim your destinies and usher in this new era of power?"

The stranger I'd honed in on nodded once, his sights lingering on me. "Indeed, Lord Malachi. We shall serve tirelessly in our roles to uphold this new world order which you have graciously provided us."

Duke Adari. The more I studied him, the more confused I became. At first glance, the magic lingering around him appeared like the rest: imbued with sinister, baneful intent. But the closer I looked, the more it transformed, a strange light flickering underneath.

Malachi's voice intensified. "And a new world order we shall have! The Reigning Reaper lineage has become weak, watered down by mortal blood meant to sustain us, not rule us. It is time to forsake hiding and expand our way of life. It is time to stand, reclaim the night, and remake our world in our image. To denounce the Old Gods' vision since they insist on hiding away in their ivory towers allowing filth to infiltrate our courts."

Again, the table cheered. My stomach twisted, weighed down by the sheer panic on Suri's face. Whatever was about to happen had to be stopped immediately.

Malachi stepped up to the woman splayed out before us, took the knife in his hand, and placed it against her throat. "So my brethren, let us feast not only on her mortal blood, but on her power. Together, we shall reign. Let us lord our newfound strength over our adversaries at Death's precious ball tonight and show him the error of his ways before we strike down his heir."

Everything in me seized. Every muscle and joint. Kim…

Blade severed flesh, and the witch's life was forfeit. I watched her power—bestowed by Fate and Death—pour out, rich and dazzling, straight into Malachi's glass. My heart broke for her. This woman had known nothing but pain in her final hours. I considered the life she might have led before her abduction. Had she fallen in love? Built a home? Secured a future for her people? One she'd now never share in. As heir, her coven would spiral, mourning her for a millennia. What an absolute tragedy.

Intuition rattled in my bones, assuring me that if her blood made it into Malachi's system, Anathema would be doomed. There would be no way back. Her lifeblood slipped towards the demon Lord's lips as each person at the table raised their glasses and—

I jumped to my feet. "A toast!"

The room paused in tandem. I made my way to the drink cart, snatched the gin bottle I'd deposited upon our arrival, and grabbed as many glasses as I could carry—Suri following suit. We rounded opposite sides of the table, presenting each guest with their own glass, before returning to our places.

Malachi flashed a snide look. "Surely we can toast upon completion—"

"Certainly not," I responded, and poured into my own cup. "My friends, we are witnessing history here. Should we not celebrate our well-earned victory? Savor it?"

To my surprise, Odin nodded in agreement, swaying his partner and the rest of the guests in kind. Perfect. Malachi traded his bloody goblet for a new glass, and I poured freely. One by one, the attendees reached for their own fill, unknowingly walking straight into the trap set for them.

Good riddance.

I noticed Duke Adari's vibrant, frantic magic, and I lingered on him a second longer than the rest, warning him with a pointed stare.

I raised my glass. "To a new world order!"

"To a new world order!" everyone seconded, and downed the contents of their glasses.

But not me. Not Suri. And not Adari.

Malachi chuckled, setting a hand on my shoulder. "I've never seen you practice restraint when it comes to a bit of top-shelf liquor. Will you not join us in the toast?"

I grinned, my heartbeat in my ears. "Not when it's been poisoned."

"You jest too much."

He laughed again, but this time it didn't reach his eyes. I held his gaze as I poured my cup out on the floor, letting the empty glass fall and shatter at his feet. He referenced the shards, then me, then the rest of the now silent room.

"Lyvias, what have you done?"

"I have ensured that your treasonous vie for the throne ends here, secured freedom for those whose lives you have hijacked, and eradicated the monster whose shadow haunted my queen's throne. All in one fell swoop."

"You…fool…" he choked out, clenching a hand around his throat as the oleander took swift hold.

Like dominoes, the guests crashed to the floor one after another. Their bodies seized as they choked for air, crying out for help, but nobody would answer their calls. After all, they'd installed these soundproof walls themselves to hide their sins from the outside world, and those very same walls would serve as their crypt. Talk about cruel irony.

I turned to Suri. "Get the girls out, but be quick. I'll finish here."

"I don't know the back rooms. I—"

Adari stepped to her side. "I do. Let me help."

Suri and I shared a weary glance.

"Please," Adari whispered. "You saw my intention. I know you did. You are gifted in oracle sight, are you not?"

"How did you know that?" I hissed.

Panic gripped me, but the duke offered a gentle, genuine smile.

"Because I too have the sight," he said. "Please, I have suffered years in this place waiting for a moment to strike. Let me help you both."

I turned to Suri. "It's your call."

"Do you trust him?" she asked.

"His magic certainly isn't baneful. I can tell you that much."

She looked him over. "If he wiggled his way into the inner circle, then he'd know this place like the back of his hand. We need him."

"Then take him." I snagged Adari's sleeve as he turned to leave. "Do not make me regret this."

"I wouldn't dream of it, my King."

He bowed his head, and they disappeared into the club's depths—his final word hanging over me like an anvil dangling from a frayed rope: king.

Alone in the gasps and fevered screams, I drifted towards the table. Averting my gaze from the soulless witch, my bloodlust grabbed hold of me. It wasn't Lyvias's thirst this time though. It was mine. My thirst to end those who'd caused such pain and destruction. To make them feel the same way they'd made others feel. I leaned down over Odin as he writhed in pain, his hands clenched at his temples.

"You," I bit through my teeth. "I have been dreaming of the moment I'd get a second alone with you ."

I stepped on his chest, letting my full weight linger there for a second as he battled for breath. A glorious sight. But he needed to know, needed to see what damage he'd caused. I snagged his suit collar and ripped him to his feet. Oh, the enjoyment I'd get in his annihilation; I'd drink it in like a fine wine aged for decades in a dark cellar. He snarled, but his intimidation landed on deaf ears. He really believed himself menacing. A hound from hell. In truth? He was nothing more than a rabid dog. No problem; I'd put him down. Bend him. Break him.

As my sights bore into his, I imagined how Kimber must have felt that night at the club. Alone and cornered like prey, despite being the fiercest predator herself. My mind wandered to what could have been: the disgusting things Odin would have inflicted on her had I not stumbled across them in time. Fire burned in my gut, and I snatched him by the throat. What other atrocities had he committed? What rot had he spread within others?

I searched the room, locking onto the nearest viewing station, its glass panels gleaming in the candlelight. Empty save for the shackles of the woman who'd been forced to dance within it.

That'll work.

I dragged Odin—shrieking and kicking in a childish tantrum—towards it, slammed him against the wall, and secured the chains around his ankles. A chuckle shook my chest as I stepped back to behold him. I'd won. Despite the threats he hurled at me through foamy lips, terror refracted in his eyes.

"Killing us won't bring the bitch back," he screamed, his breaths labored.

I turned my back on him, strode over to the banquet table, and removed the bloody rope still binding the young woman. Her skin…already cold to the touch. I heaved a heavy sigh.

"Be at peace, little witch," I whispered, and straightened a wilting flower in her hair. "Rest knowing your life will be avenged this day."

Any traces of kindness I left there with her. I let my rage take full control. Fuel me. Cracking my neck, I studied Malachi's magic fading in and out in an effort to save him from the poison's clutches. Like he'd be so lucky. I ripped him off the floor, dragging him to the leather chair positioned before Odin; his screams were like music to my ears. With a hum in my throat, I bound the demon Lord to the chair with his own fucking rope.

Malachi lurched forward. "Don't…do this."

"What?" My frame cast a shadow over him. "I thought you liked to watch?"

I stepped aside, granting him an unobscured view of Odin.

"Sick…bastard…" he wheezed.

"Oh, I know you are, but don't worry. I'm about to put you out of your misery. I know, I'm too kind."

Suri appeared as if on cue, a long line of women between her and Adari. She paused, her attention bouncing about the room.

"Go," I said. "Get them to safety."

Suri stepped forward. "What about the upper level? Dancers and staff are known to stay overnight on occasion. There could be innocent people asleep up there."

"Adari, can you see to that?"

The duke nodded. "Yes, Sire."

Suri and her charges burst out the back door while Adari headed upstairs. Safe. Now, time to deliver on my promise and rid my kingdom of this filth. This festering disease of imbalance. Leaning down over Malachi, I ran a finger along his jawline. He lurched, but I didn't let him evade my touch.

I grabbed the candelabra nearest me—the candles still lit—returning to Odin's post to meet his gaze. "May the flames purge your cold, dead heart. Or not. Either way, you'll face Fate's wrath. And I doubt she will be as forgiving as me."

A single tap of the candle against the silk curtains, and the place ignited. Smoke billowed, tangling in my lungs. The few guests who hadn't yet succumbed to the poison pleaded for mercy the same way so many women had to them, but I offered no salvation. Instead I choked out a laugh, watching the flames jump from curtain to curtain and spread across the carpet.

Then the first body caught, engulfed in an instant.

The scent of charred meat settled in my nose. Thanks to the poison lulling him to sleep, the man didn't cry or wake. But Odin and Malachi? They were forced to watch. To beg. Seems the poison wasn't as forgiving to "more powerful beings," as they'd so deemed themselves. My lungs burned in the black smoke.

Time to go.

I stole one final look at Malachi, who sat motionless in acceptance of his fate, and made my way to the exit.

"May Fate grant you the same mercy you gave to others," I called with a wink, and sealed him away in his crypt.

I lingered, securing a vantage point atop a hill shrouded by trees. Adari and two dancers emerged just in time for the blaze to blow out the bottom windows like a shotgun blast behind them. Can't say I was surprised, given the amount of alcohol stockpiled within those walls. Flames reached for the waxing moon, unsatisfied until the entire building glowed and crackled. Whatever ties Malachi and Odin had made burned alongside their legacy of malevolence. Their sins: finally scorched from the earth.

The meat market was officially closed for business.