Of Sins and Psychos (The Beautiful Monsters Series Book 1) Page 3

  “Ruin,” I shakily whisper. “I need to go to the Kingdom. I can’t tell you why. But I need to.” My eyes clench closed, and I can’t stop the emotion trembling my voice. “Please.”

  The drumming of our hearts beating against one another passes the time. Somehow, my heart is as strong as his in this moment. His presence has the ability to make me stronger, it seems. Our words might not fit together well, but our bodies definitely do. We weren’t like this before. Before, I was just a kid, and he was just a friend I was lucky enough to find in my darkest moment.

  But now—it’s entirely different now. His hand against my neck isn’t controlling suddenly. It’s caressing. My temple leans into his, and I almost don’t want him to answer me. Because the moment he speaks, the spell we’re clearly under in this moment will be broken.

  I won’t admit it, but I like the way he feels. I love the safety of his body and the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. He feels good.

  So fucking g—

  He steps back abruptly. Once a large gap of space is between him and me, a coldness wafts over my flesh where his body heat seeped into mine. He takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and swallows.

  “Stay by me. Don’t draw attention to yourself. And we won’t stay long. I don’t want you here after sundown.”

  A smile overtakes my features as I look up at the monstrous man, ignoring the warning of the dangers of staying in this chaotic kingdom at dark. The magic that crawls out when the sun set is named the Darkness for a reason. If that sinister title isn’t warning enough, I don’t know what is.

  I nod.

  “Agreed?”

  “Agreed!” I say immediately.

  But truthfully, I’ll stay as long as it takes. I care about Ivy’s life more than my own. I don’t want to face the Sand Man, but I will.

  I just can’t tell my only friend that.

  Chapter Five

  Bella

  We trek quietly through the forest for somewhere around an hour. It’s a guess, but I’m good at telling time, honestly. Whether it’s the estimate of a single hip-swaying song or the time it takes a man to get drunk, time is easy to tell for those who are observant enough to see it.

  The silence of nature isn’t something I’ve heard in a while though. It’s nice to soak it in. The occasional scramble of little feet along rough tree bark breaks up my thoughts. It’s the cracking of large branches beneath Ruiner’s boots that speak the loudest of all.

  I eye him subtly as we walk. His features remain like an unwritten book: all blank pages and spilled ink of words not yet spoken. But his body language, it’s screaming.

  Screaming STAY THE FUCK AWAY.

  “What happened after I left?” It’s the first words I’ve dared to say, but it’s all I’ve thought about since the moment I landed in his arms.

  What happened to him?

  His broad shoulders lift carelessly, his wings rising to show the sleek black hint of a spider-like leg beneath.

  “The same as when you were here. King Leavon continued searching for his Carnal Queen of dark power.” He exhales heavily on that title, and even I wince at the memory of how hard Leavon wanted me to be her. It isn’t often the Sand Man doesn’t get what he wants. But he didn’t get me. “And I . . . fucking got away from it all. Got away from him.”

  “You resigned from The Brotherhood?”

  A snort hums through him. “Something like that.”

  The Brotherhood is the highest rank anyone could ask for. It’s the King’s chosen council and a vital part of the Kingdom’s hierarchy. To be brothers with the king is an honor.

  I narrow my eyes at the evasive man on my left.

  “Did he—” I pause because I was really hoping he’d tell me. But it looks like he’s going to make me tear the truth out of him. Bit by bit. “Did the Sand Man give you that scar?”

  Scar doesn’t feel like the right word for such a jagged, ripping wound that stretches across the full side of his jaw, neck, shoulder, and torso.

  That veil of mystery that covers his serious face doesn’t waver. He nods only once.

  As he holds back a tangle of vines for me to pass through. The thickness of the forest slips away along with the many, many questions on the tip of my tongue. In the distance, hints of dark rooftops scatter along the horizon. And the golden peak of the Castle of Carnal gleams in the pristine sunlight.

  The deep blue of the sea curls around the city like the water itself is lifting the kingdom higher.

  I can smell the salty sea. I can hear a ripping waterfall somewhere in the distance. So much beauty is here in the tainted darkness of this city.

  The questions of Ruiner’s scar, my past and his, and everything in between fall away as so many foul memories slam into me. Sometimes all I am is memories. And I hate that this place is reminding me of that. The breath leaves my lungs entirely.

  It’s Ruiner’s growling voice that breaks the trance.

  “Fuck off! She’s not for sale!” His big hands shoo aggressively at a group just a few yards away that I hadn’t even noticed. “She’s not property. Advert your fucking beady-goat eyes off of her!”

  Half a dozen men stare at me with enlarged, glossy orbs. Their long manes of hair are matted and disheveled, and the unsettling, hungry look in the gazes is far stranger than the fact that they’re standing on beastly, bullish legs. A minotaur from the back yells something at Ruiner, but the braying sound of it gets lost in translation.

  I don’t lower my attention. I don’t cower. Weakness will never be shown. Even if their stare feels like it’s peeling back and crawling under my flesh with each passing second. A large hand falls gently to the small of my back. Ruin herds me away like I’m a sweet little lamb in a field of horny bulls.

  The female populace among minotaur is nearly nonexistent. They’re a dying breed. And the forceful way they breed, that explains their fresh-meat stares entirely.

  Even after we’ve followed the dirt path down the hill and have many yards separating us, Ruiner still glares back with that stony look of brutal aggression. I have no doubt he’d rip a man (or monster) limb from limb for me.

  The night the rain was so cold it chilled me to the bone shivers over my skin like it was just yesterday. The rain had drenched my hair clean, but it couldn’t wash the blood from my gown. I came right to him. I threw open the door to his one-room cottage. Ruiner had looked at me then with big, astonished eyes and saw what I see in him every day: vehemence. He just didn’t know I was capable of it. And honestly, neither did I until that night.

  A farm animal sound shakes through the quiet. It’s a ridiculous sound . . . but it seems it’s a threat.

  Ruiner stops first, his spine going ramrod straight as he looks up at the two hooves standing in our path.

  “What’s a fu-kar like you doing with a l-aaaaady like ’er?” The minotaur’s hooves waft dirt around his heavy steps.

  A storm of thunderous footfalls follow suit, their stride mimicking the pounding of my heart. More of them step out from the brush lining the cliff near the sea. There are suddenly dozens of them now. All men. All towering over myself as well as Ruiner with their wild eyes boring down on us.

  “Bella,” Ruiner whispers, his big hand coming up to push me quietly behind his wingspan.

  “Yeah?” I ask just as carefully hushed.

  Anticipation fills my chest. Seconds are counted by the hammering of my heart.

  “Run.”

  And then he’s lunging at them. Leather wings spread wide, releasing the eight legs held beneath. The long, black tendons uncurl one by one. Ruiner lifts up, his wings raising him high before he swoops down on the man who insulted him. The points of his spider legs slide right through the minotaur’s torso. He’s drawn up above Ruiner, his hooves kicking out to aid him.

  Two others rush my friend. And then four. And then seven. And then there are too many surrounding him to even see the bloody display or the tips of Ruiner’s glorious wings at all. I run. Just n
ot as Ruiner wanted me to.

  I run to him. My hands grip the coarse hair of someone’s back. My boot leverages against him there too. And then I’m standing, teetering up atop the minotaur’s back as he hunches down for me.

  There’s a split second among the chaos where Ruiner’s furious gaze slides to me. And though I can’t hear him, I know exactly what he says.

  “Motherfucker!”

  And then I leap into the center of the mass destruction.

  The magic here, the darkness, it once gave me a very special skill. I just have to—a braying man elbows my ear as he slams his fist into Ruiner’s jaw, not even remotely aware of the woman he said he wanted less than five minutes ago.

  Jesus. This is why you assholes can’t have anything nice!

  I just have to hold eye contact with my assailan . . . assailants.

  Shit. There are too many of them. I don’t even think I remember how to use the magic . . .

  “Can I just,” I try to look into the man’s eyes closest to me, but he’s just shoving forward to get closer to the dozens of others surrounding Ruiner.

  Seriously, this is just overkill at this point. He can’t let all of you kill him! Make some fucking space.

  I jar my own elbow into the man nearest me, and the animal-like wheeze that startles through him is the only evidence that I did any damage at all. Arms and hooves and legs and breath are all over me, sickening me from the throng of men I’m now stuck in.

  “WHY—” a growling familiar voice says. “Don’t you ever listen to me?” Ruiner spews, slamming his fist into a face, or a stomach, or possibly a man, I’m not even sure at this point.

  “Sorry, I can’t hear you over the many compliments of my adoring fans,” I snark, being completely shoved aside and tossed out of the throng entirely. I lift my hands at the total lack of intelligence happening before me. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this insulted to not be hit on by a guy before. Like I get it. He’s a spider bat man. That’s like super impressive to men, I’m sure.” I tap my boot restlessly and try to figure out how to get these asshats off of my friend. “But I have these,” I yell loudly, lifting my thin black shirt and . . .

  Flashing the crowd of minotaurs.

  Yeah. I’ve hit a new low in life, I think.

  The braying, the shoving, the bloody riot all halts at once. Dozens of big, glossy orbs look my way. Silent appreciation flutters in.

  Somewhere in those empty, bullish heads of theirs, there’s a chant happening. I can almost hear it, I swear.

  Boobs. Boobs. Booooooobs.

  Apparently, you don’t need dark magic to solve problems. You just need breasts.

  A cocky smirk touches my lips.

  Until they all push off of Ruiner and slowly stalk my way.

  “Bella! Run!” Ruiner tells me once more.

  And this time, I fucking listen.

  Weak heart, don’t fail me now.

  My legs never stop. The dirt of the path down to the city is long gone, and only the softest green grass slips against my boots as I thrash to run faster and faster. The rushing of water becomes louder and louder. It all flits by in a panic as the herd’s screams ring in my ears. A hand grips my arm. The minotaur’s nails dig into my flesh.

  And then I jump.

  His hold on me disappears as cold wind catches my hair. The salty smell of the sea fills my senses like a wave of relief. Only to be drowned in its depths when I crash headfirst into the water. It feels as though nails are spraying into my face. It soaks right into me: the sound of it fills my ears like the sting of it fills my nostrils.

  With thrashing arms, my desperation carries me through the darkness. I can’t make out up or down, but I’ll try anyway. I’ll never stop trying.

  Even if my lungs are burning with each slow second that slips by.

  It all starts to press down on me. I can’t reach the surface. I can’t hold my breath any longer.

  It’s too much.

  Strong arms catch my waist, and I’m hauled into his embrace. I’m pulled through the weight of the waves. It feels euphoric and terrifying all at the same time.

  My head lifts from the water with a rattling gasp of air hitting my throat with painful intakes. With heavy kicks and uneven strokes, I keep myself above the push and pull of the current.

  “Bella! Bella!” my savior calls.

  Ruin’s dark lashes are lined with dampness, making his piercing eyes seem like the ocean itself is looking at me with such intensity.

  He’s so fucking gorgeous. I—

  “Bella, I can’t fucking swim!”

  Shit.

  His wings flick against the water, but the shape of them catches the water like a bowl at the center. His body isn’t made for this.

  And I have no damn idea how I’m supposed to rescue a giant of a man like The Ruiner.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I tell him. I say it over and over again. I slide my arm around his slick torso, his wings jarring into my every stroke as I head toward the shore.

  But it’s so far away.

  “It’s okay,” I tell the both of us.

  I reassure myself as much as I do him. I say it to keep morale. I say it—I say it because the sea is pulling me back with every inch I gain.

  It’s impossible.

  And still, I keep going. Ruiner has saved me more times than he even knows.

  I won’t fail him.

  My eyes aren’t even open when jagged coral cuts into my arms. I fling at the sea. My poor attempt to keep swimming is just engraved into my brain, even as my tired limbs start to give out.

  It feels like broken glass along my knees. My palms splay out to hold myself up from the unseen sharpness, but pain slashes across my flesh there too.

  Until I’m scooped up. My dark hair covers my face. I’m too tired to even try to blow a breath of air at the veil of wet, messy locks blinding my sight.

  “It’s okay,” Ruin whispers sweetly to me on that crushed velvet voice of his.

  My head jostles into his shoulder when his knees hit the ground. His protective hold never releases me as he slowly lowers to the grass. Through my tangled hair, I see his lashes close, his ragged breaths turning slow and even finally.

  He leapt into the sea to save me. He knew his wings would sink him, and yet he leapt after me anyway.

  Why does his near-death experience feel all warm and fuzzy inside my chest?

  His strong heartbeat settles into a steady rhythm that fills my ears as I lean into his smooth chest. It’s easy to fall into him and curl up in his big arms. There was never a problem with finding comfort in my friend. There was only the problem of remembering just that: my strong, gorgeous protector . . . is just a friend.

  Chapter Six

  It takes hours to find our way back. It’s a journey to travel from the sea up to the highest point of the kingdom. Dense silence carries on for so long, our little dirt path widens to smooth cobblestone streets. The Kingdom of Carnal soon comes alive all around me, and I still can’t help but peer around at the buildings that hang lanterns at each door. This strange world is notorious as a refuge for Monsters. Other creatures, the prettier ones like the Fae kingdom to the north, they don’t welcome the broken the way that Carnal does. Anyone strange and bizarre, they’re welcome here with open arms.

  And they’re created here too.

  The parasitic magic of this kingdom that sinks into your bones and infects your flesh, that’s the price you pay for acceptance.

  An old woman with a tattered, graying shawl fills a baby carriage with knickknacks. Old clocks, vases, figurines, and rusting tins fill the pale blue stroller to the brim. We pass her by on the wide-open street, and her graying eyes fill with white smoke as she looks up at me, pinning me in place with the weight of her stare.

  “Care for a souvenir, Pretty Girl?” Her talon-like hand reaches out to me, and in the palm of her lined hand rests a silver ring with an opal gem at the center.

  “I’ve seen that ring be
fore,” I mutter as I stand transfixed, staring at the jewelry as dozens of others pass me by.

  That’s Ivy’s ring. I gave it to her for her birthday last year.

  My fingers lift one at a time as I reach for the memento in the flat of the old woman’s palm.

  And then something hard stings across my knuckles before I ever make contact.

  “What the fuck!” I glare up at my friend at my side. Before he can explain the slap he just gave my hand, he’s ushering me away from that side of the street entirely.

  “Don’t talk to strangers, Bella. That’s Monster’s law 101.”

  “That was Ivy’s ring! She has seen Ivy!” I turn to haul back to the woman, but I spot her tossing a piece of paper trash to the ground before dusting her hands off and setting her sights on a young girl with a burlap sack positioned over her head entirely, hiding her features from everyone. That doesn’t stop the old woman.

  “Care for a souvenir, Pretty Girl?” she repeats.

  The eerie girl in the burlap sack doesn’t even pause or acknowledge the woman as she quickly passes by.

  The woman shakes her head and tries again on the next man with a horn protruding through the center of his forehead.

  . . . she’s a hustler.

  She never had Ivy’s ring at all. It’s simple transfixion magic. I learned to do it my first month here. If you say something with enough conviction, you can change the way someone thinks. And even the way they see. A little bit of magic and a whole lot of confidence is all someone needs for transfixion.

  I shake my head and remind myself not to trust anyone here. Even if it comes to my little sister. Always lead with doubt in the Kingdom of Carnal.

  I follow closely at Ruiner’s side, and his attention slides to me out of the corner of his eye every two to five seconds. The crowd thickens, and the tension lining his back tightens. Every muscle in his body is taut and ready. The heart of the city just outside the king’s castle is the worst of Carnal. A poor kingdom made entirely of outcasts aren’t always the kindest citizens.