Chapter 34

ChapterThirty-Four

“So,” Gluttony said, shifting on top of his mount to look back over his shoulder. “Here we are again.”

Here they were again.

Hunting in the sands like the idiots they were. For two very different reasons, of course. Gluttony was here because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and Wrath had heard he’d been eating people, even here. They’d both heard ringing in their ears for days after that confrontation. It didn’t matter that Gluttony was helping Greed, nor did it matter that people had attacked them. He’d fed. That was the problem they were trying to fix.

Whatever. Wrath had bigger problems than Gluttony getting his fill in Greed’s kingdom.

Greed was only out here because of a much bigger problem. A problem who was giving him the silent treatment for the better part of a week because she refused to even unlock his door. He had a key, of course, but what kind of a person would he be to just barge in when a woman said no?

A demon, some dark voice in his mind, whispered. And she expected him to be a demon, didn’t she?

No, that wasn’t right. Varya needed her time. She needed to come to terms with the realization that she wasn’t getting away this time. Not from him. Not from their world. She’d completely and utterly given herself over, and now she had to pay that price.

“Shut up if you aren’t going to keep an eye out,” Greed snarled.

“An eye out for what? We’ve come out here every day for five days now and we haven’t gotten a single whiff of what you’re looking for. Just admit you’re asking the impossible and let’s go back to your castle.” Again, Gluttony shifted on the saddle, wincing slightly. “I’m getting sores.”

“Maybe those would remind you to keep your mouth shut around Wrath, then.”

“I wasn’t the one who told him I’d been feeding.”

“No, but you did it.” Greed could use a fight right now. He was itching for it. His hands opened and closed in clawed fists, and he stared at his brother with eyes that were already slitted in the sun. “You’re the one who can’t control your own urges.”

“Hilarious.” Gluttony looked him up and down, then gestured in the same motion. “Look at you. We’re out here, starving, burning up in the sun, and you’re quite literally salivating. There’s drool on your chin at the mere thought of keeping her forever, and you think I’m the one who can’t control my urges?”

Was he drooling?

Greed wiped at his chin. And damn it, there was some foam after all.

What did that mean? Nothing. Only that he couldn’t control his urges with her and that was realistically something he shouldn’t worry about. There had been other objects he’d wanted just as much. Armor that would protect him from every type of weapon. Magical amulets that made him stronger or allowed him to be as weak as a human if he wished. There were plenty of items here that had been tossed aside by so many kingdoms he could wallow in the power for the rest of his life.

And yet...

Yet, he knew his brother was right. Gluttony saw straight through him. His reality was that he was pleased with the idea of keeping her because it was Varya. Of anyone and anything he’d ever seen in his life, he wanted her. More than magic. More than power. More than his namesake.

He wanted—no, needed—to have her. And he would give up the rest of his collection if it meant she stayed with him for just a little while longer.

Gluttony’s eyes widened, watching the emotions flicker across Greed’s face. “You’re in love with her.”

“No.” The word wrenched out of him before he could catch it. Greed cleared his throat to get rid of the sudden tension there. “That’s our brother’s new domain, yeah? Not me.”

“You think you cannot be greedy while also being in love?” Gluttony leaned over the pommel of his saddle, turning his eyes out to the sands. “Lust might have been the only one of us who struggled with love. And Pride, I’m not sure that bastard even knows what love is. But none of us are immune to the notion. We can love, Greed. Just as hard as we can fuck and live and conquer.”

Ach, it wasn’t the right thing. He wasn’t in love with Varya. She could barely look at him right now and ... she wouldn’t be able to do it after this.

He scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm, an ache blooming in his chest. “And if I do? What do I do with that? She doesn’t want this life or anything that I can give her.”

“Perhaps all she wants is you.” Again, that soft gaze turned to him, seeing right underneath the armor that he’d so carefully built up around himself. “And you’re so afraid to show her that ugly underbelly of yours.”

“That’s all she’s seen.”

“Then you’re afraid to show her the best of you because you do not believe there is anything left of that person.” Gluttony shrugged. “There are many reasons to be afraid, brother. Countless reasons to convince yourself that you are unworthy, or that she could never want a man like you. Or you could let go of your fear and dive in. See what she can offer you and what you could offer her.”

When had his brother gotten so perceptive?

Eyeing Gluttony, he tried to see past the hard exterior. Or perhaps it was better to call it Gluttony’s mask, since no one really knew who his brother was.

Gluttony had left them all very early in the battles for their kingdoms. He’d seen the swamp kingdom and taken it for his own, knowing that none of the others would want the dark and the muck. Since then, Greed hadn’t heard from him at all. None of them had. Gluttony had taken to his kingdom like a fish to water and then was gone. From all of them.

So what had his brother been doing? Certainly not becoming this rather insightful version of himself. He refused to believe a man who devoured his own subjects was so able to look within himself and see reason.

“You eat people,” he muttered, then shook his head. “I shouldn’t take any advice from you.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Gluttony’s eyes never once moved from the sands. “Wrath tells whatever story suits himself best.”

“You mean suits the kingdom best.”

“Sure. Claim that’s what it is. Put that mantle of goodness and righteousness on the brother with the greatest anger problem and the background to prove how fucked up he really is.” This time, Gluttony met his gaze without hesitation. “Neither of our brothers like me very much. Have you ever asked why? Does Pride see fault in me? Does Wrath wish to punish me? Or is it because I seem to be the only other brother who sees fault in them, and they do not like feeling inferior to anyone else?”

This opened up way too many doorways that he wasn’t all that certain he wanted to walk through. Greed had never cared that two of his brothers seemed to think they ruled all the other kingdoms. He didn’t care as long as they didn’t meddle, and they didn’t. They took whatever they wanted as far as respect, and then they left him alone.

He was fine with that. Greed rarely left this kingdom anyway. It was large enough for him to spend a thousand years exploring, and that was enough.

But... What if Gluttony was right?

He wasn’t so certain he wanted to understand what was going on with the rest of his brothers. And he certainly didn’t want to agree and be the reason they were all at war. It was too much for him to consider. Too much for him to uncover when there were already problems in his own house.

“Brother,” he started, not sure what he was going to say. “I don’t—“

Gluttony interrupted him, pointing ahead. “There’s a spirit, if that’s what you’ve been looking for.”

Greed didn’t have to be told twice. He kicked the sides of his nuckelavee, and launched into action. It took him a second to see what his eagle eyed brother had seen, but the spirit wasn’t trying to hide. It rolled across the sands, a faint greenish color of mist that stood out all too much. The little thing had no idea that it was going to die today, and that was unfortunate.

There weren’t a lot of them already. And if it wasn’t the right kind of spirit, he wasn’t certain what he’d do with it. After all, they needed the spirits of emotions so that humans could truly feel them.

But his temper had already simmered underneath the surface for far too long. If the spirit wasn’t the right one...

Greed leaned over the edge of his mount, holding onto the saddle with his thighs, powerful body nearly skimming the sands as he leaned low. Lower... lower still until he scooped the spirit up with his clawed hand.

It let out a little shriek of anger, a good sign to be certain, and struggled to get free. While its form might be mostly mist, he was a demon king. He’d been what this little spirit had been before, and he knew how to contain it. Struggling to continue scooping it back between his hands, he juggled the damned thing as Gluttony took his sweet time to join them.

His brother’s amused smile only served to make Greed want to smack him, but at least he held out the glass jar quickly enough. Only then did Greed let the mist fall between his fingers, then he capped it.

The greenish light turned darker with anger. It didn’t even have eyes, or the ability to speak, apparently.

“How long have you been wandering the desert?” he asked, lifting it up so the spirit could see his face.

It glowed sporadically, apparently trying to get some message across that he didn’t understand. A long time, he’d guess. Considering how weak the spirit was, it had likely not seen a single human in at least a few years.

“You’ll need to feed before I use you,” he muttered, shaking the jar so he could see the spirit from all angles. “This won’t suit. But don’t you worry, you’ll live on if you’re the right sort. What are you?”

Of course, it couldn’t answer, and he barely remembered the times when they lacked this physical form. They’d all been like this. A glowing light, weak and struggling to even stay illuminated. Then they’d found the better way to feed. They’d glutted themselves on the mortals that they found growing stronger and fighting off all the other spirits who might take their food.

But that was all he remembered. Nothing specific. Only the story that they’d told a thousand times over to explain how and what they were.

Sighing, he looked at Gluttony to see his brother had turned ashen, even his lips lacking all color.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Do you recognize it?” He shook the jar again, tumbling the little spirit around in a circle. “I can’t remember this color, to be honest. It’s a little like pea soup.”

“It should be a spirit of adventure,” Gluttony replied. His brother’s voice was quiet and breathy. “But it’s changing.”

“Into what?”

“Loss.” And that choked noise didn’t sound like Gluttony at all. “What would make a spirit of adventure turn into loss?”

Greed looked around them at the desolate landscape, at all the adventures that might have been had which were now buried underneath the mounds of sand. He knew what had made this spirit start to change. And he knew the struggle that made it weaker.

Adventure required hope and excitement and all the other spirits that should have accompanied it. Emotions that were so rare in his kingdom, it was no surprise that they had died out.

He tucked the jar against his chest, holding it tightly as he’d wished someone would have done for him. “Adventure,” he muttered underneath his breath. “Perhaps we should visit a few of Varya’s friends before we go back.”

“And bring the Horde right to their homes?” Gluttony shook his head, still far too pale for Greed’s liking. “It’s folly you seek, brother. You wish her to love you in return? Stop risking her people.”

That would be the logical thing to do. And a voice in his head whispered that it was the right thing to do as well. Risking others was a stupid idea. He could go back to his castle and seek the servants that might give this little spirit a feast. Not to mention it would grow very strong inside Varya’s adventurous body. But he didn’t want to take any risks.

She was his. Varya was his to protect, and he intended to make sure she lived a long, healthy life. Longer than any human before him.

“I was there when Lust’s bride almost died,” he said quietly. Even the spirit in the jar stilled, looking up at him as though it knew the importance of this moment. “I saw her withering away. I felt her soul detaching from her body. But it was a spirit of affection that saved her. A single spirit who had grown strong and healthy and could have even taken physical form if it wished. But instead, that spirit gave itself up. It joined with her, possessed her, allowed her to remain in control over herself even though it knew that meant a life almost like death.”

Gluttony hissed out a long breath. “I’d always wondered how he managed that.”

“It made her immortal,” he continued. “It made her stronger. It healed her, every battered part of her body. Like magic. Better than magic. It was a gift that this spirit gave a woman who had fed it beyond any other. I will not lose her, Gluttony. I will not see Varya age or die because I was not willing to risk a few mortals.”

And there it was.

The ugly underbelly that Gluttony had mentioned. The darkness inside him that whispered for him to tear this entire kingdom apart if it meant she would stay alive and well.

He’d take whatever she could give him. He was greedy for it. He wanted her hatred, her love, her passion, her pain, all of it. It was all sweeter than any nectar or honey he’d drank in his life and he didn’t care how fucked up that was.

If he had to endure her hatred for a hundred years, just for a taste of her love, then so be it.

He lifted the jar to the sunlight, watching the golden rays play through the green spirit. “You are going to be her salvation, little one. I will feed you now, and then you will join with my queen.”

It shuddered in the jar, but then seemed to still. Almost as though the spirit was considering what he said, even if it was frightened.

“You will be her savior,” he breathed. “Or I will return you to the desert and you can seek out the end of your life here.”

In the end, it was no question what the spirit would choose.