Page 35 of Chaos
He shrugged and turned away from me, walking slowly down the path, clearly wanting me to follow.
“I’m not certain, but our talents are not the same. Pestilence is based on chance as much as anything. Mortals can come intocontact with the same germs, but only one will fall ill. War is a choice, though men and women can be persuaded to fall prey to it, which is why Chaos fuels the urge for violence. And famine, well, it's an extreme, isn’t it? Some will be drained by it, others may never feel its touch.
“Death comes for every mortal being, no exceptions. I was the first of us for a reason, as I am the culmination of them all. I am inevitable.”
My heart gave a little pang of hurt for him.
“That sounds like a terribly lonely existence.”
“You’re not wrong.”
He was so sad. Despondent.
Again, it wasn’t so much what he said, or even how he said it. The truth lay deep in his eyes, at the heart of him.
These horsemen were all much more complex than they’d seemed. All of them broken. All of them missing something they craved—though they dared not speak the words aloud. The more I got to know them, the more I saw. I didn’t think they realized just how clearly I could see through them now. Maybe it was part of my succubus nature to recognize and understand emotion, or maybe it was as simple as me finally being able to build real connections with people and not just through a screen.
The desire to fulfill those unspoken needs tugged at me. I didn’t want to look too closely at why I felt so consumed by the urge. I knew I couldn’t fix things. But perhaps I could give them all a version of what they wanted.
Even if it was only in their dreams.
Tonight I’d visit Daddy Death while he slept, and I’d show him how beneficial living with a succubus could be. No real-life touching required.
Chapter
Nine
GRIM
It wasn’t often Death had the opportunity to dream. I was a walking nightmare sent to haunt, rarely allowed the peace of my own subconscious haven. So when I found myself back in my penthouse with a computer screen filled with images of a mostly undressed Merri, I knew exactly what was happening.
By all accounts, the setting shouldn’t have been idyllic. Lightning flashed outside, filling the dimly lit room with a blaze of radiance as a storm ravaged the city below. Sheets of rain pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows. But I found comfort in the storm and its darkness. It was home, as much a part of me as the spark that gave me sentience.
Here, I could be anything I desired.
Here, I could be hers.
If only for one night.
As if I summoned her—which I bloody well had—Merri walked through the door, her red hair flowing in waves nearly to her waist, face bare of makeup, eyes wide.
“You wanted to see me,” she said, voice breathy and hitting me straight in the dick.
She was nervous, and I loved that little hint of fear. It meant that she knew exactly whose lair she’d just entered. To me, it was practically a sign of respect. Chaos and the others adored her defiance. It seemed I craved her submission.
“Yes. You’re late. Come in and close the door.”
Eyes downcast, she did as I instructed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“We need to discuss what you’ve been posting of late, wildflower.”
Her gaze snapped to mine and then to the screen beside me. “You’ve been snooping.”
I raised a brow. “Is it snooping when you post it for all to see?”
“It’s no different from what I typically post. I don’t understand why you have any issues.”
Rising to my feet, I strode across the office, not stopping until I was inches from her, looming over the tempting succubus. “Oh, darling one, I have issues. The least of which are concerning you posting photos of what is mine for those lecherous pricks to enjoy.”
