Goddess of Pain - Katie May Page 0,28

turn in his embrace until I can rest my arms comfortably on his chest, and his own wrap around my bare waist.

“We’re having a moment here,” Avery says, but his voice is devoid of the usual ire he has when dealing with Sin. It’s surprisingly tender, reverent almost, as he stares down at me.

When Sin begins to knock on the closed closet door, I release a heavy sigh and stomp forward, still ass naked.

“What?” I growl, wrenching it open. Sin is reclined on a folding chair that he must’ve dragged from the kitchen. A tub of popcorn rests on his lap—his very naked lap. As he languidly shoves popcorn into his face, his other hand strokes his cock.

“Seriously, Sin?” Avery questions from behind me, annoyed.

“A cop’s here.” Sin shrugs as if it’s not that big of a deal. “Helio’s dealing with him.”

“Fuck!”

Grabbing my robe from the hook on the door, I hurry out of my bedroom, Avery hot on my heels and Sin hot on his. Both men are still naked, and I have to wonder what the cop will think. No doubt, he’ll be traumatized for life.

When I enter the living room, I see Helio with his hand around a familiar man’s throat.

Officer Blake.

The douchebag detective who told me about my car.

As I watch, mesmerized, his features begin to contort. His lips become fuller, and his lashes become longer. His hair turns a shade darker as a five o’clock shadow appears on his jawline. His bone structure remains the same, though, as does his muscular frame. The changes are subtle but profound enough that the man in front of me is different from the one I saw before.

I’m no longer looking at Officer Blake. Instead, I’m staring into the eyes of Tate.

Fucking Tate.

Honestly, why didn’t I figure this out before? He’s the God of Deception, after all. It’s not surprising that he would unintentionally use his powers on Earth.

“Are you going to release me, you mammoth asshole?” Tate snipes, and Helio reluctantly removes his hand from the other man’s throat.

“Do you…?” I begin tentatively.

“Do I remember who you are?” He releases a bitter laugh. “Unfortunately. Oh, and I apologize for trying to shoot you earlier.”

Chapter 12

Avery

Very few kills have made me as happy as my most recent one.

Mr. Whitmore’s death was quick. Painless, some would say. I don’t kill people to inflict maximum pain; that’s Arsin’s specialty, not mine.

I kill because they don’t deserve to exist anymore.

I’m actually grateful that I know the truth of my identity. Now, my need for death makes sense.

I’m fucked up. There’s no denying that, and I wouldn’t even if I could. I’ve long since embraced every dark facet of my nature. There’s a stain on my soul that’s been there for as long as I can remember—an eternity.

I remember how it felt to wrap my hands around his throat. His eyes had widened, bugging out of his head, but it only spurred me on.

This man tried to hurt Emily. I couldn’t allow someone like him to live. How many other women did he proposition? How many had he forced?

No, a parasite like him deserved to be eradicated.

I squeezed until his pleading eyes rolled into the back of his head. His wife slumbered in the bed beside him, blissfully unaware of the murderer hovering above her.

I spared her, of course. I’m not a complete monster, and from what I gathered, she was completely oblivious to her husband’s illicit activities with unwilling college students.

The rage I felt when I saw Mr. Whitmore place his hand on Emily’s thigh was unlike anything I ever experienced before. It released something inside of me, something I kept locked away in a steel box. In that moment, I wasn’t merely Avery Living.

I was death.

I followed Mr. Whitmore to his house, where he kissed his wife passionately. And then he left, claiming that he had to attend a staff meeting.

Instead, he drove to a sleazy motel where an eighteen-year-old girl waited for him. She smiled seductively at him, batting her fake lashes, and he ate it all up. She had him promise that he would raise her grade, and only when he agreed, did she strip out of her clothes and take his wrinkled cock into her mouth.

Absolutely disgusting.

He pawed at her small breasts, pinching her nipples, and she moaned as if she actually enjoyed it. Didn’t he see the disgust written across her features?

I couldn’t help but think how different things would’ve been if Emily hadn’t escaped him. Sure,