Goddess of Pain - Katie May Page 0,25

need you to listen to me,” I whisper, staring at the man who has been my best friend for years. And my lover for centuries. I just need to reach the piece inside of him that is currently staring at me as if he’s never seen me before. I need him to listen and understand. “Aves.”

The growl that leaves his throat is low and predatory, decidedly not human.

“I recently discovered something that I need to talk to you about,” I press, continuously tugging at his arm. Sooner or later, he’ll have to follow me. I’m nothing if not persistent.

Sin saunters forward, one hand in the waistband of his pants—yes, I forced him to get dressed before we came over; the last thing we need is to get arrested for public indecency—and in his other hand is a silver spoon.

Eyes glinting wickedly, he begins to wave the spoon in front of Avery’s shocked face. “Rememberrrrrr,” he whispers, drawing out the final R.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sin?” I just barely resist the urge to facepalm myself.

“Hypnotism,” he deadpans. “Now, shush. The magician is working.”

Avery grabs the spoon out of Sin’s hand and tosses it against the far wall. Before I can even catch my breath, Avery wraps his hand around Sin’s throat and pins him to the wall.

“Avery!” I scream, terror flooding through me. “Stop it!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he seethes. Power begins to leak from his body—wispy tendrils of pitch-black smoke. It slithers across the floor like a live snake, circling Sin but never touching. Sin, for his part, just throws his head back in laughter.

“I’m the God of Flames!” he screams.

“Avery!” I lunge forward and grab his shoulder, and immediately, the dozens of smoky tentacles reach for me. I vaguely hear Helio’s roar as he charges for me, but my vision is entirely consumed by darkness, as if someone had spilled a cauldron of ink. Pain radiates up and down my arms, but it only fuels me. Energizes me. I relish in the licks of pain that steadily begin to consume me as completely as Sin’s fires do.

“Emily!” Avery’s voice penetrates the darkness. And then, in a hushed murmur, “Goddess?”

As quickly as it appears, the pain retreats. I collapse onto the ground, panting erratically in tandem to my rapidly beating heart.

Avery kneels before, face ashen and eyes wide. He stares at me as if I’m a strange and exotic specimen, a zebra in a flock of sheep. He stares at me as if he’s never seen a female before, as if the world ends and begins with me.

“Do you…” I trail off, coughing into my sleeve. Tears blur my eyes, but I brush them away impatiently. They’re always a side effect of Avery’s death power. “Do you remember?”

I almost don’t dare to hope. Staring up into his handsome face, a face I loved and trusted for years, memories begin to overlap. I see my lover, but I also see my best friend. Our lives are so irrevocably tangled together that I don’t think we can ever be separated.

“I remember,” he breathes, his peppermint breath fanning across my lips. “You’re the Goddess of Pain.” He stares at me in stark wonderment. Almost as if he can’t help himself, he lifts his hand to brush a stray curl behind my ear.

“And you’re my God of Death,” I whisper, cupping his cheeks. His skin is smooth—devoid of any scars, blemishes, or even facial hair. Avery is the epitome of boy-next-door.

His eyes narrow suddenly, and he lowers his hands to my waist, pulling me forward until I’m straddling him. “You never noticed me before,” he accuses, eyes narrowed. Over his shoulder, I notice Helio physically pulling Sin away to grant us much needed privacy. I’ll have to thank him later, preferably in blowjobs. “I loved you for years, but you never noticed me.”

“Avery…”

“I used to try to make you jealous,” he continues, lips twisting downwards. “I would go on dates with other girls in order to get you to see me. But you never did, did you? Not until now.”

“I…”

I can see a wall erecting itself around his heart. A self-defense mechanism.

Because every word he said is true. For years, I saw him only as my best friend, the one person I could lean on implicitly. I never considered our relationship romantic, but that was only because I didn’t know it could be anything other than platonic. Looking back at my younger self, I feel like a complete