Of Sins and Psychos (The Beautiful Monsters Series Book 1) Read online

  A booming chuckle so loud that the people around us start to glance our way causes me to regret the man I call a brother. I toss him a grimace from over my shoulder, and his laughter shudders out into a coughing fit.

  Yeah. Choke on your amusement, traitor.

  “Meet me here tonight. At midnight,” the king tells the crowd. “Choose to join my court.” I scoff at the word court. He’s a king by his own crowning but don’t ever say that to his face if you’re keen on the heart beating in your chest. Not all of us have forgotten the prosperous Dragon King. “Be welcomed by your own kind and find a life you deserve in the beautiful Kingdom of Carnal.”

  Clapping and cheering erupt all around, and it’s then, among the distraction, that I strike.

  My fist snatches through that soft, thick hair right at the root. Her head angles back, exposing the pretty length of her throat, but she doesn’t react. She doesn’t cause a scene or attract attention to the two of us. My chest melds against her back as I hold her as close to me as I possibly can to drive this point home.

  “Do not ever disrespect me again, Bellatrix Cuore. If our paths cross again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” Her scent washes over me and my eyes close for just a short moment to take her in.

  From above her tall frame, I spy the pull of her lips carving up in a smile that doesn’t at all seem threatened.

  She’s either still crazy in the daylight, or she’s very, very good at faking her calmness.

  Her hand drops fast, and before I can react, her nails are digging through my pants and twisting. Hard. Around my fucking balls.

  My groan is a silenced sound against her throat as I tense around her, never once releasing my hold on her. Never once feeling her hold lessen on me. The pain that strikes thorugh me sadly shows her a side of me I’d like to keep very far away from an enemy like her. Because as she hurts me, my cock only grows harder for more.

  She ignores it. She’s so damn good at ignoring the growl that’s turning to a groan along the soft curve of her neck.

  “Be careful who you threaten, Synder Steel. Your king cannot always protect you. Even among the Brotherhood.”

  She releases me and takes a confident step, putting a fair amount of distance between us.

  But I don’t let her walk away.

  I jerk her back by her silken hair, and the redheaded woman at our side is watching us closely. So closely, I give her a sultry wink before pressing my lips like a caress against my lover’s throat.

  Or so it seems.

  The razor blade between my teeth is flicked out fast and sharp, and I nick her flesh just lightly, just enough to tell her I could have slit her throat to the bone. I could have killed her in a heap of her pretty, crimson blood if she’d been any more of a pain in my fucking ass.

  But I didn’t.

  An intake of a sharp breath is her reply, and it brings a pleased smile to my lips from around the dripping blood of the blade. My tongue slips out to taste the warmth.

  I drop the razor blade from my lips, and it falls back into my palm as quick as it came before I slide it into my leather belt where it belongs.

  Her delicious gasp still rings in my mind as I hiss intimately against her ear. “Do not fuck with me, Bella.”

  And then I shove her away. Her hand slips over her throat, but she doesn’t look back at me as I storm off through the crowd of applauding newcomers.

  Benton rushes after me, and I see him hand her a jacket for warmth before following after me.

  I roll my eyes and ignore his kindness. Someday, he’ll learn that even your kindness has a price to pay.

  With a crack of thunder, the rain pours down, soaking over me like the realization that sinks in: Bellatrix Cuore knows my place in this kingdom. She knows I’m of the Brotherhood. Just like me, she’s done her research.

  Which is exactly what King Leavon teaches his Chosen brides in their classes.

  My name is on her hit list now.

  Just like hers is on mine.

  Chapter Eight

  Bella

  The splatters dropping down from the sky turn to a drizzle and then to a full downpour by nightfall. Despite my feminine urge to find Synder Steel and put that pathetic little razor blade to good use, I hurry into the city and find a familiar tradesman. The witch doctor doesn’t recognize me, but I’d know his violet eyes anywhere.

  The white umbrella above him shields him and him alone from the rain. I stand soaking in the cold, but it’ll be worth it. His small cart is cluttered with veils. Some are for mutations, some for shapeshifting corrections, some are as simple as an herbal birth control.

  But I know exactly what I need.

  What my chaotic mind needs.

  “Do you have any Reality Rippers?”

  His lips twitch at the slang name of the drug I’ve long forgotten the correct term for.

  He nods and lifts a jar from the cart with ten little white pills inside.

  I hate pills.

  But I hate losing my mind every night too. One of these a night and I’ll be sane . . . or as sane as I normally am, anyway.

  “I’ll give you ten strands of virgin’s hair for it.”

  Not mine, of course. My sexy slut bus left the station a long, long time ago. But I did snatch a few strands off of the sweet boy’s coat after he and Synder left. He really should be careful being so kind to strangers like that.

  The witch doctor’s lavender brows lift high, but as normal, he says nothing.

  He offers up the jar, and I sprinkle the short brown hairs into his palm. Rain splatters our hands before I can nod to him with appreciation and rush my ass back through the rain to find Ivy.

  The dry pill slides over my tongue and down my throat as the crowd gathers below the balcony once more. I scan each face through the thick rain and finally find her. Three other girls linger at her side. Something strange blooms in my chest as I watch the girls snicker behind their hands as they walk and talk like they’ve been friends for all their short, shiny lives.

  How does she do that? How does Ivy lure people in without even trying?

  A tall figure blocks out the little light that the crimson will-o’-wisps provide. I don’t focus on him much until he comes closer in through the sheet of rain. He walks my way, and my gaze is set intently on him.

  Ruiner’s bright eyes are the first thing I notice. My heart leaps to find him again. He doesn’t once meet my gaze though.

  He brushes past me, ignoring me intently.

  When we’re side by side, he slows his gait.

  “I have to stay for a while. I can’t leave. I’ll get you out of here, but it’ll take some time.”

  “Oh—”

  “Don’t speak to me. Don’t seek me out.”

  He buttons his black cloak with patience before looking up, past me. I don’t know why it hurts my chest to watch him ignore me. It must be for our protection, but my heart doesn’t seem to understand that rationality.

  I focus my gaze away from the enormous man at my side. I nod once. Still he doesn’t look at me.

  My heart drums for his attention across my face or his voice against my name, but I try not to let it get to me. Stop being irrational, Bellatrix.

  He takes another step past me, but at the last minute, his fingers brush mine. It’s a slick, fleeting touch, but I feel it everywhere.

  Slowly my eyes close, and a soft smile pulls at my lips.

  Yeah. I’m still fucking crazy even with the pills.

  Without another word, he’s gone.

  My wet hair hangs heavily around my face while I stand in Leavon’s courtyard. The divots in the dirt are heaping puddles that send memories sloshing through my mind. Memories of fights in the rain and dark magic that slaughtered more than it should have. Especially between friends.

  My eyes close at the thought of who I used to be once upon a time in this courtyard.

  When they open, I’m looking up at our king.

  The cold seeps in through my clothes even with the kid’s jacket wrapped tightly around myself. The constant rain of this kingdom is too much to stand here and listen to Leavon blab on for an hour.

  My teeth grind as I stare up at the balcony through the sheet of rain. I can’t see him, but I’ll always sense him. It’s a sensation of wanting to burn bridges and never cross them ever again.

  It’s what I intended to do.

  And yet, here I stand once again as his pupil and courtier.

  His Chosen.

  “Ah, you’ve made the right choice, my friends,” Leavon calls out, his voice booming through the storm with strange magic.

  “He’s so dramatic,” I hiss to myself.

  “You should hear him during a festival,” a man at my side chimes in . . .

  As if I asked him.

  Manic laughter and deadly commands flash within my mind of a festival long gone. But one I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

  “I hope I never get the pleasure.”

  The humming laughter is a gentle soothing sound, and I can’t pretend not to be interested enough to ignore the stranger at my side. My hair tilts back just slightly, but when I glance out of the corner of my eye, he too is peering at me from behind rain-soaked, black hair. Black eyes study the long length of my frame. But his eyes meet mine all the same.

  And a slow, carving smile curves his full lips so far back, I just know he literally eats people for a living.

  Nope.

  Stop ya right there. Those ones are the deadliest. My logical mind springs to life like a cock-blocking assassin.

  Dammit.

  I peer up toward Ivy once more. Her head is tilted back, and she’s silent as she listens intently to Leavon.

  “So please, over the next week, my home is your home.” My destiny is yours, I think like an echo as he starts his next recited line. “My destiny is yours. Welcome.” The sound of heavy gears and barred walls parting is heard through the pounding rain. The group ahead of me, my sister included, stride toward the gates that are now open somewhere up ahead, and I have to be on my way if I’m going to protect her.

  I walk away from the crowd.

  Until I disappear entirely.

  I climb the windowsills with quick hand placements and kicking boots until I’m at the third floor. I trained for this. When I was here, I was urged to build my strength and my magic.

  And when I left, I never stopped building those things. Except it wasn’t to impress Leavon anymore. It was to protect myself from him.

  The Chosen rooms were on the third floor when I was here. Let’s hope they still are.

  My slick footing barely heaves me over the window’s ledge, and I can hear the laughter of the crowd rising from the floors below.

  The others will be here in minutes.

  I scurry down the corridor. In the candlelight, I scan the nameplates of the new occupants on the doors. The letters are a blur to me until I spot the one circling my mind over and over.

  Ivy Cuore.

  And below her name is another. I was prepared for that. Every Chosen has a Carnal roommate who helps them adjust and advises them.

  I can be that person.

  I slip Bethory Hallins little name off the door, and the clank of it clattering down the corridor is a nerve-racking sound, but it’s done.

  A sigh of contentment eases from my lungs at how easy it was to become her roommate.

  I push open our door, and . . . fuck.

  “You must be Ivy!” A bubbly little demon whore beams at me with a toothy, white smile.

  I blink at her for several seconds.

  “Bethory?” I ask with a slow, churning smile of my own.

  Her head rattles a happy yes.

  “An important-looking woman with a clipboard downstairs was just asking for you actually.” I point my thumb over my shoulder.

  Bethory’s smile turns serious.

  That’s what clipboards do. They’re very serious, you know.

  “Oh. Okay.” She rattles her bright, blonde head a bit more but ultimately scuttles urgently past me, out the door down the hall, and . . .

  She fucks right off.

  Perfect.

  I chuck the satchel of hers off of my bed and let it tumble through the third story window before closing out the cold night air. I have mere seconds to take a seat on the small bed before the door opens slowly once more.

  And I’m ready.

  Ivy’s shining eyes are black as night, something I’ve never seen at home. Her big gaze meets mine for the first time in . . . forever. I was expecting us to be home by now. I was prepared to do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  I wasn’t prepared for her to forget me.

  The twisting sickness of that thought churns through my stomach, but I smile charmingly anyway.

  “Ivy?” I stand with my own offering of pleasantries though I’m not as good at it as Bethory, but my sister seems excited to see me, nonetheless.

  “I’ve never stayed away from home before,” she says with a confidence only dark magic can bring. It’s foreign to me, and my smile falters only slightly before I pull it back up into place.

  “We’ll have the best of times.” And I mean it. I believe it. What little time we share here, it’ll be friendship and trust built up all over again.

  We don’t need Pete Davidson’s sexy smile to form a friendship between us. We just need each other.

  . . . I hope.

  “What’s your heritage? Demon Descent? Shadow Demon? Horny Devil? Soul Eater? Imp?” She rattles off more and more, but I’ve already bitten back my tongue.

  The Kingdom of Carnal homes a lot of demons, it’s true. But also outcasts of all sorts. Leavon finds what each girl is good at, and he has them focus on that until the magic here really brings it to life. Anyone can be a simple demon in this world. But some, some are Jackals, Zombies, and Skinwalkers. The Kingdom of Carnal accepts them all.

  Even the freaks like me.

  I can’t tell her what my true background is. Because if I reveal too much, it might link us too closely. That can cause distrust. And I don’t want her untrusting of me. I want her trust, and I want her to come home with me. Willingly.

  It’s the only way.

  “Succubus,” I say lamely. God, the sex demons are the worst. Get a real power and grow up already.

  “Oh,” she says wide-eyed and innocently.

  A hard smile curves my lips at her understanding of my “magic.” She’s the same sweet little girl who would beg me hunt fireflies with her and hide beneath the bed from Mom.

  “Is it . . . is it wild?”

  “The wildest,” I tell her with a sultry smile.

  I may not truly be a horny, sex-addicted Monster, but I’m a woman all the same. And yeah, sex, it’s nice. It’s the empty small talk and lies guys give me after that ruins it.

  Her giggle is a symphony of memories in my mind that warms me all throughout.

  Until a bursting sound bangs through the small bedroom.

  And there stands Bethory. Drenched from the rain like a wet dog.

  “You lied!” An accusatory finger flings my way, and I stare back at the woman as if I’ve never seen her a day in my life. Certainly not today, anyway.

  “I’m sorry, who are you?” I lift a delicate hand to my chest as if I’ve been fatally wounded by her accusation.

  Her jaw nearly detaches and hits the floor with how wide-mouthed she’s gaping right now.

  “You know who I am! You threw me out and tossed my panties to the wind!” She holds up a wad of fabrics.

  Panties.

  Hmm. I knew her satchel seemed light, but I assumed it was more than just underwear . . .

  I pause just long enough for someone else to step in: my sweet sister.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you are, but you need to take your,” her big eyes glance to the panties, “take your stuff and go find your own room. This is a privately assigned room selected by King Leavon himself.”

  My brows lower fast. The king personally selected Ivy. That is not good. Not good at all.

  “This is my room!” the lunatic shouts at us, angry fists shaking around a rainbow of muddy undergarments.

  Ivy’s palms plant on her hips, and I’m actually impressed with the confidence this place has given her. I’ve never seen her like this.

  “Is there a problem in here?” a smooth voice like violence wrapped in velvet asks tensely.

  “Yes!” Bethory booms as she spins on her heels.

  And comes face-to-face with Synder Steel.

  Why? Why is this man always two steps away from crawling up my ass and setting up a nice little bed-and-breakfast for himself to stay in for the rest of our miserable lives?

  “This is my room. They’re forcing me out of my room!”

  “This is Ivy’s room. Her name’s on the door, personally selected by the king.” Synder glances my way from over pale, disheveled blonde hair but draws his attention back when a hard stomping of Bethory’s foot meets the floorboards.

  “Ahhh! It’s my fucking room! She lied, and she’s lying right now, and that’s my bed, and my new best friend, and this is mine, and I’m not leaving!”

  A big hand clasps over Bethory’s face. He snatches up her entire face and forces her to look at him. Synder stares down on her with unblinking, starry eyes. “Listen to me, girl. As the Brotherhood, I’m commanding you to vacate not only this room but the Kingdom of Carnal. You were ill selected. A mistake. And I won’t tolerate your screaming for another bloody second.” His mouth twitches oddly, morphing almost, but it seems to halt when his teeth grind tightly together.

  I watch in awe of his power as the protests from Ivy’s previous roommate halt entirely. She nods her head emptily. The girl steps back robotically. She doesn’t make a sound. She doesn’t look our way at all. And then she walks right out the door.

  Damn. I should have handled all of this like that.

  A boy, much younger than Synder, steps into the doorway and peers around. It’s the boy who gave me his coat. His eyes are snake-like, an intense green that no human could ever possess. He glides in that way too. His gait feels slithering with a swaying carefulness to his every step.