Chapter Four
CASSIA
THE NEXT SEVERAL days are some of the most exhausting ones I’ve ever experienced.
I meet with David or Valeria every morning, drink the ungodly toxic sludge, then spend the next several hours waddling around the cabin like a newborn fawn. I don’t know how to operate without power fueling my body. It’s humiliating and degrading, and I hate every second of it.
I’m doing this for Luca, though. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him—for revenge.
“Look at you go,” David taunts.
He’s lounging on a sun chair in a wide-brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses, and I fantasize about slitting his throat as I restart my exercises. I’ve learned to do all the basic movements: running, jumping, and even skipping. Now I’m working on combining them.
It’s so much more complicated than I ever imagined.
David’s observing with a wide grin, happy to watch me learn how to do a running jump. I got about three inches off the ground in my last attempt, which I’m going to consider a victory. My toes didn’t leave the ground the first time I tried.
I make another attempt, my muscles burning with the effort.
David whistles. “That was a good one.”
“Shut up.”
I wipe the sweat off my forehead and try again. And again. And again.
It’s no wonder that human children are considered so useless. My siblings and I were already up and running around by the age at which most humans are learning to crawl. Mom tells stories about how overwhelming it was, how terrifying the sheer speed of our physical development was.
After experiencing firsthand how hard it is to live life with a human’s strength, I understand. This shit is hard.
“You should drink some of the tonic,” I tell David.
He frowns, peering at me over the rim of his glasses. “No, thanks.”
That’s probably for the best. I may be physically stronger than my siblings, but they each have their own strengths. David is sneaky and hard to catch. If he took the tonic, I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t take advantage of his weakness.
I’d shave off all his precious hair or run his fingernails over cement until the shiny surface is scratched up and dull. David’s vain—it comes with being an incubus—and I’ll destroy every part of him he loves most.
I attempt one more running jump, then plop onto the grass beside David’s chair. He shifts, seemingly intending to give me his seat, but I wave away the offer and collapse onto my back.
“Do you think I’ll be able to do it?” I ask.
“Do what?” David can be so fucking dense.
“Do you think I’ll be able to sneak into Greed and kill Mammon?”
“Oh.” David pauses to think, which isn’t the most encouraging sign. “I think you have the physical ability to kill Mammon. You’re strong, intelligent, and determined as hell. I don’t believe there’s much you can’t do. You’re not subtle, though. I’m worried you’ll get angry and expose who you are.”
I think that’s about the kindest thing David’s ever said to me.
“What if she kills me?” I ask.
David snorts. “Then I’ll have to sneak into Greed to avenge you, and we all know how that’ll turn out.”
Not well. Valeria would have better odds of surviving, but only because she’s a fate.
If Mammon caught her, there’s a high possibility she’d torture Valeria for information.
If Valeria were tortured, I’d have no choice but to come back from the dead.
I don’t know anything about the afterworld, but I suspect it’s not easy to escape.
I clear my throat. “Do you remember Luca?”
I was only five when he died, and while I have a few memories, I don’t remember much about his personality. I’ve heard hundreds of stories, but secondhand knowledge isn’t the same.
“A little,” David says. “I remember you throwing a fit when you found out Luca was a Wrath. You liked being Aziel’s only biological child, mainly because it guaranteed you his title.
You promptly announced that Luca was your enemy, which immediately made him my best friend.
The enemy of your enemy is your friend.”
David laughs, then continues. “He was this tiny, little helpless infant who stood no chance against you. You were surprisingly kind to him, but I didn’t trust you. I took it upon myself to protect him.”
I faintly remember that. David was exceptionally protective of Luca, and he was always threatening me to get me to stay away.
Once, when I got too close, David began crying and screaming, claiming that I had hit him.
I’d done no such thing, but my parents didn’t believe me.
They punished me. It was bullshit, and I’m still angry about it.
“Did you know Daddy Aziel refuses to have more children?” David asks.
“No,” I admit. “Is it because of me?”
David shakes his head. “Mom miscarried his first child, and then Luca died. He’s convinced he’s cursed.”
Aziel is dramatic. Miscarriages are normal for humans, and Luca died because Mammon’s a vengeful bitch. Besides, I don’t believe for one second that Aziel would ever turn down Mom’s request for another baby. She tells him to jump; he asks how high.
I lie back in the grass and shut my eyes, trying to relax. Spring is Lust’s best season. Wrath is already sweltering this time of the year, and the cool breeze in Lust feels amazing.
David sits up, drawing my attention. “It’s about that time…”
I know, and I’m not looking forward to it. The quickest way to burn through the tonic is by provoking my anger. David greatly enjoys it, and he’s practically chomping at the bit.
“All right,” I say, rising.
David stands, and I chew at my bottom lip as he sets his hat and sunglasses on his chair. His bright-brown eyes are filled with unfiltered excitement. It makes him look so human. Valeria and I inherited the black eyes of our fathers, but David was unlucky.
I hardly have time to prepare before David tackles me to the ground.
He sits on my stomach, his knees digging into the grass on either side of my hips. He feels insanely heavy when my power is dulled, and I fruitlessly shove at his shoulders as he grabs my wrists and pins my arms beside my head.
“David!” I hiss, trying to wiggle free. “What the fuck are—”
Every thought in my head vanishes as he leans forward and puckers his lips, letting a giant droplet of saliva slip from his mouth. He’s going to spit on me. My chest heaves, panic coursing through my veins as I thrash underneath him.
“You better fucking stop!” I scream. “This isn’t funny.”
His methods these past few days have been effective.
He’s slapped me. He’s pushed me to the ground and continued pushing me down every time I tried getting back up.
He’s even poured a pitcher of ice water over my head.
All worked to break the hold on my power, and he’s never resorted to something so vile.
My blood heats, wrath and disgust rising and rising until I’m pretty sure my skin’s about to burst into flames. David notices the subtle shift and takes that as encouragement to continue. I’ve never fought so hard in my life. My arms, shoulders, and legs burn with strain.
David’s spit lands on my eyelid. Some seeps into my eye.
The dam breaks.
There’s a flash of blinding white as power erupts from me, but David’s already gone. The fucker vanishes in a flash, disappearing to fuck-knows-where. I’m shaking, I’m so angry, and I wipe his spit off my face before stomping toward my cabin and kicking the wood.
I scream, too, really letting it out.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
I shout the word with each kick.
There’s a noticeable dent in the wood exterior of my home by the time I finish my tantrum, and I eye it with nothing short of complete satisfaction as I step away and smooth out my clothing. I’m feeling better, back to my usual self.
“That was…something.”
I spin, locking eyes with Valeria. She’s beside the chair David was lounging in earlier, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a red, leather bodysuit today, which is definitely a statement piece. She pulls it off, though. She always does.
“Why are you here?” I snap.
Valeria cocks her head to the side, and I blow out a long breath before changing my tone. She hasn’t done anything wrong.
“What brings you here?” I repeat, forcing myself to sound less unpleasant.
“I didn’t know I needed an excuse to check in on my little sister,” she says. “David told me you’ve been working hard these past few days, and I wanted to make sure you’re not neglecting yourself.”
“I’m not neglecting myself,” I lie.
Valeria looks me over, taking her sweet time evaluating my messy, uncombed hair before shifting her gaze to my dirty clothing. I haven’t had the time to shower and change today, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide yesterday’s dinner stains.
I huff. “Mind your own business.”
Valeria quirks a brow but doesn’t push. It’s for the best. I’m still on edge, thanks to David, and it won’t take much to set me off. I hate how much my emotions rule me.
Sometimes I can barely tolerate my family, and the few romantic relationships I’ve attempted have been wildly unsuccessful. I get angry, and it appears men don’t particularly enjoy dating a woman they’re constantly terrified will snap their necks.
I’ve never snapped a neck. I’ve never killed, but I could. I have it in me, and I sure threaten it enough.
Gray claims that I just need to be patient. He seems to believe the right man will come around, but I think he’s full of shit. There’s no right man for me. I’m going to die alone, just the way I want. I don’t need anybody, and a relationship will only drag me down.
Silas laughed when I told him that.
“Family dinner is tomorrow,” Valeria says.
I nod.
“Are you ready?”
I nod again.
My attendance is mandatory, and it’s the first phase of our plan. Valeria has already planted the seed. She’s been whispering about some ten-day emotional regulation retreat on the outskirts of Wrath. It’s secluded and private, and it would arguably be good for me.
My parents will eat it up. They’ll suggest I go. If everything goes according to plan, my parents will bring up the idea after dinner. I’ll resist it at first, then grudgingly agree. It’s the perfect alibi.
I’ll have ten days to sneak into Greed and lay the foundation of my plan. By the time my parents learn I never attended the retreat, I’ll be too deep within Greed’s territory to be removed. They’ll be pissed, but I won’t have to bear the brunt of their anger. Valeria and David will.
Sucks for them.
I’m counting on my parents having overcome their anger by the time I return. They’ll be so relieved I’m alive and that Mammon is dead that they’ll skip over the lectures and punishment altogether. They’ll hail me a hero. Aziel will have no choice but to concede Wrath to me.