Goddess of Pain - Katie May Page 0,43

and I feel thousands of butterflies fluttering in my chest, their wings battering in tandem to my rapidly beating heart.

“Nothing much,” Sin drawls lazily as his power rushes to the surface, tiny sparks of heat pebbling my nipples. “Avery’s just committing some murder.”

“Oh that’s nice… Wait what?!” I’m out of bed before he can answer, grabbing one of Avery’s faded t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

“You asswipe!” I hear Desmond snap from behind me. “Why did you have to say the m-word?”

“Mongolia?” Sin asks seriously, but Desmond’s response is drowned out by my thudding pulse.

I hurry down the hall and into the living room, just in time to see Avery finish rolling the dead body into a black tarp.

He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of low-slung jeans. His golden hair is wildly tousled and coated in blood. The red liquid speckles his face and bare chest as well.

He smiles cheerfully when he catches sight of me.

“Have a good reunion?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Seriously, Avery?” I raise a brow as he tosses the body over his shoulder. Poor Burke. Though…I probably shouldn’t feel too bad about the man who hired people to kill me for money. “Did you have to do…this?”

He appears genuinely poleaxed.

“What?”

Helio, sitting silently on the couch, snorts, but I can’t help but be angry with him as well. He didn’t stop Avery from killing the man, despite the fact he easily could’ve.

I blame myself.

I should never have allowed Helio and Avery to punish the human in the first place.

“I’ll be back,” Avery assures me, leaning forward to peck me on the lips. I’m immediately barraged by the distinct taste of copper mixed in with Avery’s own natural flavor. “I need to dump his body somewhere.”

“Not East Lane,” a dry voice remarks. Tate rests his forearms on the counter, sipping from his own cup of coffee. He’s outfitted in the police uniform I’d seen on him before, but he has yet to distort his features into that of Officer Blake. “We usually have patrols roaming there at this time of day. Maybe Salt Lake?”

“On it!” Avery grins at me cheerfully before sauntering towards the door, Burke’s body thumping against his bare back with every step.

“And clean yourself up, man!” Tate gives him a disgruntled look. “You have blood on your nipples.”

“Wow, you sly dog,” the God of Death teases. “Want to lick them clean?”

“I’d rather stick my hand in a meat grinder,” Tate deadpans in response.

Helio, still sitting on the sofa, tosses a rag in Avery’s direction. Why the man even has one on him remains a mystery. Maybe it’s an assassin thing.

Or, the most likely scenario, it’s a Helio thing.

With an irritated huff, Avery grips the legs of the body with one hand as his other wipes away the excess blood. My eyes can’t help but be drawn to his expansive golden chest, utterly enthralled by the beads of water cascading into the waistband of his jeans.

Fuck, I want to lick him, but I tamp the need.

The memory of our coupling has heat pooling low in my stomach and also rushing to my cheeks. Avery’s smile widens as if he’s privy to my dirty thoughts.

His next words prove as much. “Soon, my sweets.” He lowers his hand to cup his junk through his jeans, and I swear my lady bits build a shrine in his honor.

Tate snorts at his antics, then levels me with an unreadable look, before taking his coffee with him back to my bedroom.

It feels as if he wrenched my heart from my chest and crumbled it in his fist. Now I’m left staring at the thousands of broken pieces, wondering if it’s at all possible for me to reassemble. But I learned long ago that you can’t fix what’s irrevocably broken. No tape or stitches are capable of mending something that’s beyond repair.

Is that what we are? Something beyond repair? The thought sends bile surging up my throat, and I press my lips together to contain it.

“Come,” Helio demands gruffly, opening up his arms. I don’t hesitate to throw myself at the massive man, seeking the comfort of his warm, muscular embrace. If Arsin smells like campfires and smoke, Helio reminds me distinctly of the wild outdoors—fresh pine laden with something floral.

“Why does he hate me?” I whisper into his chest. His arms tighten around me, steel bands that I couldn’t remove even if I wanted to, which I don’t. At all.

“He loves you,” Helio counters immediately.

I can’t help but snort.

Tate?