Page 1 of Consume Me
Chapter1
Kendall
My boots don’t make a sound as I make my way through the Crossroads, but my tired muscles burn with every step. The shovel I balance on my shoulder has only grown heavier with every mile I’ve walked, but if this works, all the labor and exhaustion will be worth it. Even so, the tightness in my chest doesn’t ease. Neither will the coil of dread in my stomach. Hope and nerves have been fighting for dominance all night. In this moment, it’s an even tie between them.
Underneath the cover of a moonless sky, my thoughts of hope remind me of my mother. She was always the optimist. Maybe it was her nymph heritage and her connection to nature that made her so upbeat. So willing to seelifeeverywhere she looked. Or maybe it was my father’s dark fae blood that gave him such a stormy outlook. The way he saw death everywhere he looked. Either way, I take after my mother. Always quick to smile. To see the bright side.
Or I used to. Before.
Back when I could afford to be hopeful.
That sunny version of me feels so far gone.
Like my parents.
Now, I barely remember their faces, though maybe that’s from guilt. Even my father, a notorious assassin in the Crossroads before he died, probably wouldn’t have a very high opinion of the things I’ve done these last few months. The people I’ve killed. How hardened I’ve become from doing it.
Notme, I remind myself.
The daggers.
It’s not like I have a choice once they order me to kill for them.
I’ve tried to resist. To stop them. To free myself.
So far, every attempt has failed. But I can’t give up. To do that would mean accepting my fate as a prisoner to this darkness—and that is something I refuse to do. I allowed the daggers to claim me all those months ago in order to save my sister from the same fate. So, I can’t bring myself to regret what I’ve done. Still, with every passing day, my hope of escaping them grows dimmer.
Tired beyond words, I use my key and let myself intoSpells, Secrets, and Sorcery,the shop where I work—and now live. Natalia, my boss and mentor, is a powerful witch and a hardass of a teacher, but she’s been instrumental in helping me develop my fae gifts. She’s also been a good friend, considering she’s been letting me crash in the studio apartment on the second floor for over a year now.
The moment I enter, the charms and wardsshe’s placed along the doorframe glow faintly, recognizing me, allowing me to pass. If I weren’t coded into the spell work, I’d be dead before I crossed the threshold. How the daggers don’t see Natalia as a threat is still mystifying to me, but I’m not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.
At the top of the stairs, the door to the second-story apartment opens with a soft creak, and I slip inside.
Small. Quiet. Safe.
Or it will be. If this works.
I prop the shovel by the door and toe off my boots. Dirt shakes loose from around their soles, leaving a bit of a mess on the floor. My jeans are soaked through at the knees from where I knelt, digging through loose, damp earth to the hard clay beneath the surface. My back aches as I think of it. Even with my fae abilities, it’ll take hours for the soreness to fade.
Worth it.
It has to be worth it.
I head for the bathroom, already imagining the sting of hot water hitting deliciously against my skin. But halfway there, I stop cold.
There is a distinct hum beneath the silence.
No.
Not possible.
I drag my gaze toward the bed.
There, in the center of my pillow, surrounded by a small pile of dirt, lie the daggers.
My breath catches in my throat. The kernel of hope I nurtured all the way home blinks out—eclipsed by a cold, curdled dread that pools low in my stomach.
“No,” I whisper.
