Chapter 5

“Osmodus.” Lucian focused on my face. “They figured out how to summon him.” His palms gripped my shoulders, and he tugged me a step closer as his gaze swept down my body. “Did they harm you?”

“Myron told me all of you tried to do this in the past but failed. I was born from that, b-but how?”

Lucian uncurled his fingers from my shoulder and stood in a smooth motion. With a sigh, he backed away and returned to his seat behind the desk. Mustering all the strength I could, I staggered over and sat across from him, balling my hands on the surface of the desk.

“We tried multiple spells to raise Osmodus, and you were conceived during the last attempt. We didn’t know what would become of you. Myron wanted to kill Mary because he believed you were an abomination, but Cyrus, Jean-Claude, and I wanted to see what came of it.”

My mother. She’d wanted her husband back, and they’d used her desire against her.

I existed because of a poorly thought-out magical experiment.

All my mates’ blood had been used to summon Osmodus. Cyrus, Myron, and Blanchet’s presence explained Enzo, Beckett, and Elliot, but what about the fae? “What did the Volkov family have to do with this? How was Tanner’s blood involved when you tried to raise Osmodus?”

Lucian’s eyebrows lifted. “How did you?—”

“Myron,” I said succinctly.

Lucian sighed and leaned back, causing the chair to creak. “The Volkov family is one of the richest and most influential families in the world. Cyrus brought Richard Volkov’s grandfather into our business.”

“Business. What do you mean by that?” A sick sensation expanded in my gut. I knew what he meant. The business that shrouded Moretti Academy. Of course, it hadn’t just popped up out of nowhere, it was an evolution of what they had been doing for centuries. “Trafficking? Murdering?” I croaked and swept my gaze around my surroundings. “You built all of this—” I lashed my hands around. “—from that disgusting bullshit?”

“Partially.” No other reaction came from him. Unwaveringly, he stared at me while I verged on a panic attack. All of us had been used as a part of their elaborate plan.

My mates were not much older than me; toddlers and they’d been used. Sickening. I didn’t agree with anything Lucian had done. He was just as bad as the rest.

“What about me? What is my role in all of this?”

“I waited to give you time with a mother. I was not equipped to care for a child, and when you were born, you were normal, so I decided to return for you when you turned eighteen. Except your mother could not handle what you were.” He shrugged. “I always had an eye on you. You just came to me sooner than anticipated.”

“You knew you’d use me?”

“We didn’t know ‘how.’ We didn’t know what would become of you. If you would ever mature.”

“Into a demon,” I reiterated, and his expression didn’t shift.

“You and your father are the last of your kind.”

“What happened to the rest of them, and why does no one know about demons? Am I even an Unnatural?” My palms turned clammy. I swallowed a few times to get the knot in my throat down.

“Yes, you are an Unnatural, and no one knows of them because they were exiled long ago to an inaccessible pocket dimension in Kallisteria—the Underground.” Kallisteria was now known as Faerie. All Unnatural’s came from there until they were forced out by fae royalty.

“If there were so many of us, why are we extinct?”

“Osmodus killed every other of your kind, stealing their energy for himself.”

My brain overloaded with too much information, to the point that my head felt like it was going to explode. Yet, I couldn’t stop because this was my opportunity to ask everything I needed to know.

“Why would you want to summon that monster? How did you know about demons?”

“Cyrus is much, much older. Closer to a millennium, and he’d come across the information. As for the other bit,” Lucian paused and cleared his throat. “Demons have Thrall.”

I frowned. After being subjected to it, I was an expert.

“There is no way to control others in the Unnatural world. Witches can spell someone, but they can’t control people. Some fae have the ability to ‘suggest’ the weak-minded. But there is nothing that can directly force another conscious being to do something at their order—except for demons.” His gaze hadn’t moved from mine. “Not only that, but your form is the strongest. Nothing can destroy you, other than another of your kind. An indestructible immortal.”

I’d learned that at the Volkov estate.

“And when I got sick you always had access to a fae that could heal me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I needed you emotionally, mentally, and physically weak.”

“You let me suffer.” The realization caused my words to waver, but he nodded as if it were nothing. The cold responses—emotionless and cruel—reminded me a bit of my mates. A small snort escaped, and I shook my head. Lucian was always a father to me and the only male I loved before my mates. Of course my guys would have intrigued me; they had similar ways to Lucian.

Sigmund Freud would have a field day with me.

“But all the doctors? Why the hospital stays?”

“I needed you reliant on me. Your frailty made you easier to manipulate.” Dammit, he said it with such ease even though each word speared into my chest.

“Ouch,” I mumbled.

“I never expected to care for you, child. Nor did Cyrus expect my fondness.” He chuckled.

I shot him a baleful look from under my eyelashes. “And now a demon that can thrall and can’t be destroyed is running rampant through the world,” I said bitterly. I had to stop him. Not because I was the only one who could, but because he needed to die after what he’d forced me to do. My heart throbbed, spiking agony through my chest.

Killing him was my ultimate goal, even if it killed me in the process. The problem? I refused to take my surviving mates with me. They could live their lives without me, but them dying? My throat closed up. I couldn’t have that.

At least I hadn’t mated with Enzo. It meant his safety.

“You need to help me,” I said through the ball in my throat. Lucian arched a thick eyebrow. His reactions told me I wouldn’t gain sympathy from him seeing as though he had yet to show any remorse for what he’d done. The only times he had seemed to feel anything was when it involved Rita and myself; a fact I would lean on.

“I need to find Cynthia Weber.”

Lucian scowled. “Whatever for?”

“I have to break my mating bonds.” But that wasn’t the only reason. The bitch needed to die.

Lucian’s eyebrows furrowed. “ Bonds ? You have mates?”

“Four of them,” I said calmly.

He leaned back, eyes calculative as he laced his fingers on his stomach. “Magic is a beautiful thing.”

He shouldn’t be awed. Magic had caused the multiple mates in the backlash of my conception and shot my life in a tailspin.

“I can do that for you.” For the first time since I arrived, he seemed more aware. His palm pressed into the wound on his chest with a grimace. “Go get yourself cleaned up.”

“You should follow your own order,” I retorted, shoving off the chair just as he stood too.

His steps thudded on the carpet as he strode out. “I will return when I have the information on her location for you. I cannot contact my connections because I’m unsure of who to trust. It should take me no longer than a few days.”

“Let me come with you.”

He crossed the threshold. “No.”

And that was that. I knew that tone, he wouldn’t budge no matter what I did or said.

“Wait, I don’t have a cell phone, you won’t be able to reach me,” I called after him, but his steps didn’t slow.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I sighed. He had always been brusque and straight to the point. Arguing with him would prove pointless—he’d fulfill his promise on his terms.

I rocked onto my toes. Now alone, a shroud of darkness crept into my veins, streaming through my blood at a rapid pace. Tears blurred my eyes, and I sucked in a breath.

Rounding Lucian’s desk, I grabbed one of the glowing bottles from Lucian’s cabinet. I surpassed his whisky which he drank for the ‘taste of it’ and went for the Witchly Drinks brand. They came in solid when I needed them. I popped the cap off and tipped the drink into my mouth.

Sucking down half the peach-flavored drink, I lowered the bottle and liquid swished inside it. The iridescent glow turned in a funnel.

I squeezed my throat, but it didn’t lessen the ache. Soon, I would no longer feel this loss burning my insides. The afterlife wasn’t something I’d contemplated much even though my mom, Mary, raised Rita and me Catholic. But if there was an afterlife, I hoped to get the chance to ask Beckett for forgiveness.

I dragged my feet as I exited the office and turned down the hall. The curved banister contained a thin layer of dust. My footsteps thudded on each stair, and down the first hall, I walked past my old bedroom and then Rita’s. At the third door, I paused, staring at the dark brown trim.

Tipping the drink into my mouth, I sucked down another third and then turned the round doorknob.

It creaked and the scent of mothballs mixed with faint cinnamon slapped me across the face. Years had passed since I’d opened this door. Many, many years.

I licked a droplet off my lips and entered, sweeping my gaze around.

Same as before. Nothing that indicated any personality other than the computer set up on the desk. Beckett had always liked computers . . .

He’d never made this place his own. He never expressed it, but after hearing everything he’d suffered at Myron’s hands, I understood his leeriness. His attachment issues.

Beckett only ever cared for me, and I killed him.

How could I have done that? Tears sprang to life and trickled from the corner of my eyes.

Soon. Please Lucian, hurry up because I can’t handle the agony much longer .

I slammed the door shut, staggering away from it to stumble into the bathroom at the end of the hall. Clutching my stomach, I dropped to my knees in front of the porcelain toilet bowl, dry heaving. Bile came up, and I spit into the water. I sat back on my haunches and scrubbed the back of my hand across my mouth.

I felt so gross.

Weakly stumbling over to the sink, I washed out my mouth and mustered some energy to climb into the shower. Water drummed against the tile, and I climbed inside. My clothes plastered to my skin, and I ripped the torn fabric off, tossing it the to the corner, then worked on peeling the bandages from my body. Black blood swirled down the drain. The cuts were all still very present, but none actively bled any longer. I closed my eyes and stood there with the water beating over my scalp.

I’d rather Osmodus rip my heart out than to feel this vast emptiness eating me from the inside out.

When the water swirling down the drain turned clear, I turned it off. The more time I spent in here, the less time I was drinking and numbing my agony.

With a towel wrapped under my arms, I headed to Beckett’s bedroom again. I knew where everything . . . a ball grew in my throat. Yanking open his drawer, I plucked out a shirt of his and dropped it over my head. It fell past my knees.

It’d been so long since he’d been back that his scent no longer clung to it. That only made my chest hurt more. Would his existence from my life fade like that? Imagining it burned my soul like a hot poker. No, he’d been such a foundational part of me that for as long as I lived, I would never forget him. But I didn’t know what was worse, forgetting him or never being able to.

Lifting the drink to my lips, I sucked down the rest of the alcohol.

Dammit, I needed another one or maybe three more bottles. As many as it took for me to feel nothing. The ground moved under my feet as I descended the stairs to get back to Lucian’s office.

A vehicle revved, and I rushed to the window, pressing my palm against the pane near the door. Lucian’s sports car sped out of the parking spot, kicking up dirt and pebbles. Seriously? He was barely leaving? I exhaled a shaky breath and tore myself away from the entrance and down the hall to Lucian’s stash. I shouldn’t be so upset since Lucian was doing me a favor, but his lack of empathy for others made me want to pull out my hair. This time, I plucked up two bottles and returned to the foyer.

Instead of taking a left toward the staircase, I went right and into the living room where a large window opened to the sky. Sunlight, cheerful, obnoxious sunlight brightened the dark hues of the chestnut-colored walls—mocking me. The brilliant color should have lightened my mood, but nothing would be capable of that anymore. It even hurt to breathe and it had nothing to do with my injury. The couches circled the russet area rug in the middle, and I dropped my ass onto the floor. The motion stretched my healing wound, and I leaned forward to remove some of the pressure. Once the wave of pain subsided, I kicked off my shoes, thumped a bottle to the side and popped the top off the other golden drink. After chugging a fourth of it, I swiped my palm across my mouth, taking with it the tears steadily leaking from my eyes. I flattened on the ground, keeping the top of the bottle straight.

Shaking my head, I stared at the sky. So blue. Like Beckett’s eyes.

At this angle, my tears spilled to the side, trickling into my hair. I should have embraced his attempts at getting closer to me. He’d tried so hard; he’d been in so much agony. I closed my eyes and images of ripping that damned curse out of his leg flashed to the forefront. Blood bursting, holding flesh in my hand, then it morphed to me hurting him again —My breathing sawed out of my throat with a sob.

Only a bit longer, Maya . Once Lucian told me how to find the Weber bitch, I’d force her to tell me about breaking my bonds. If anyone knew, it would be her. Then I would kill her. She needed to die after what she’d done. I would avenge Louis’s death.

I licked my lips, wiggling on the hard ground to get in a more comfortable position. After Weber, I would find Osmodus. I experienced how easily he’d managed to withhold my attacks. If he hadn’t been so shocked or so weakened, our fight would have ended differently. So much so that our next battle may take me with him. I had to be prepared for that and that meant not being bonded. If it were even possible. Hell, what was I doing?

I sighed, cinching my eyes closed. At this point, I was just torturing myself. I was so out of my element it felt unreal.

Why had they even bonded with me after how I’d treated them? I’d been awful. Cruel. After being on the receiving end of their cruelty, I could put myself in their place and those memories burned holes in my heart. I shakily inhaled and lifted my head to take another drink.

Not feeling such vicious emotions sounded like heaven right now. I reached for the darkness residing within the now opened cage of my psyche and pulled my shift forward. My skin heated, and my nose burned with a peppery scent. My sight turned grainy as my shift crawled through my body at a slower pace than ever before.

Pressure ached at the base of my spine. I wiggled again to allow some relief and flicked my tail out, so I wasn’t crushing it.

I closed my eyes tight and breathed, trying to embrace the skin of a killer.