Hate by K.A Knight
After rescuing the human female, I quickly fly her beyond the council’s reach before leaving her at a rest stop. I daren’t fly too far in case they notice my absence. That wouldn’t work well, they would punish me, and I need to be invisible to investigate who we can kill and who we can trust. I still don’t know what Titus is doing, but I know for sure we can’t trust Amos. That leaves Derrin and Greta.
I follow her first, making sure to stay out of her deadly, icy grasp.
The only reason she doesn’t notice me is because she believes I am beneath her. She struts around the mansion in her flowing white gown, never once checking to see if her nephilim guards, or slaves as she calls them, are who they say they are. She trusts in her power, and in the power of the council, that we will be there to protect her from any threat. Her eyes do not even graze across us.
The icy tendrils of her power pass over us, making us shiver as she enters the breakfast room, which is the size of a house. She sits at the head of the table, sipping on champagne and staring out of the window until her voice suddenly barks out, “Slave.”
I spot the nephilim in the corner cringe slightly before he straightens and heads over, getting to his knees beside her and bowing his head. Her hand reaches out and she pets him like a dog. I feel anger on his behalf flowing through me, but I stay pressed to the door like a good little slave.
Not yet, I will not compromise my mate’s mission over one nephilim who hates me.
She carries on stroking him, sipping her champagne before leaning back in her throne-like, wingback chair and finally looking at him. She grabs his chin and lifts his head, staring at his face the same way you would cattle. “Not bad looking, have I had you before?”
“Yes, my lady,” he replies.
Her lips tilt up at that. “Good. Under the table, slave. Show me why I shouldn’t kill you here and now for meeting my eyes.”
He stills for a moment before ripping up the tablecloth and slipping under the wood. A moment later she groans, her eyes closing in bliss, her other hand dropping her champagne glass, which causes another nephilim to dash forward and catch it, placing it on the table beyond her reach as slurping, wet noises sound.
Cringing, I slip from the room. No fucking way am I going to stand there watching her get head. Christ, she even made that seem cold. Not like my mate who is all fire, all passion. When she wants, needs, she takes it, but oh fuck, it’s so good.
Shaking my head, I decide to try Derrin instead. The incubus tends to rise late, so he should just be waking after his orgies last night, or feeding fest, as the nephilims call it. They wait until morning to dispose of the bodies he drains dry. I’ve heard them speak of it often, how many sheep he goes through.
I hate sheep, especially the small ones, but he tosses their lives around without thought. Like they are nothing. Maybe I always thought that previously, but my mate was once human, so I can’t hate them too much.
They might be destructive, self-serving creatures with a short lifespan, but they are more like us than we want to admit.
I head to Derrin’s chambers on the top floor. The doors to his wing are open, so I slide through them, moving into the dark space that smells of blood, sex, and death. I pass his sitting room and kitchen and other rooms until I find his bedchamber. The doors are open and the scent is stronger here.
Some candles are burning, illuminating the area which is covered in satin and silky materials, red and gold everywhere. It looks like an old, French tart’s boudoir I saw in a film once.
And there is Derrin, positioned in the middle of the double king-sized bed, with silk draped across his thighs, his arm over his face. His body is naked and covered in...well, fuck, I don’t even want to know. Next to him are five women, all spread across the bed. Some face down, some on their backs.
All dead.
All naked.
Derrin’s eyes open and he locks his gaze on me. Grinning, he slips from the bed, unashamed of his nakedness as he heads to a bar in the corner and pours himself a drink. “On body duty, fallen?” he asks, his voice infused with the power he drained from those sheep.
He tosses his drink back and looks over at me. “Get to it then, can’t have their bodies rotting and stinking up the place.”
I spare a glance at the sheep. Fuck, now I’m on body removal? This job sucks, no wonder so many sheep kill their bosses. “Of course,” I snap, adding some venom to my voice to make it seem like I’m ordered to be here, not snooping.
I head to the bed, but he stops me. “Fallen?”
“Yes?” I snarl, turning to him and giving him my best pissed off expression, which is my normal face, so it isn’t too hard.
“I have a question,” he starts, so I wait silently, not replying. He grins, pours himself a drink, and leans back against the bar, watching me. “You see a lot, hear a lot no doubt, any clues on what has Amos so…riled up?” he queries, sipping the clear liquid.
Huh, he doesn’t know? My face must say it, because he rolls his eyes.
“No one trusts an incubus, and though people deal secrets for sex, I can’t seem to find out, but there is something happening. I can feel it, I’m not stupid. I want to know what so I know where I need to stand.”
Well, that crossed this idiot off our list. He’s more bothered about getting his dick wet than what’s happening right under his nose.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “They don’t tell me anything.”
“But you must suspect something,” he snarls, pushing away and stalking towards me. He trails his hands across my chest, a tingling power following. Is he trying to seduce me? What the fuck?
He stops behind me and leans closer, pressing his body against my back as I fight the urge to fling him across the room. Asshole, using his powers to get what he wants. The worst bit is, the power is shooting straight to my cock even though I don’t do men and I really don’t want him to touch me. I try to pull away, but I can’t, he has me locked in place even as I try to fight his control, my body revolting at his touch and his ability to make me want him. Taking what I’m not offering.
His hand traces lower, gripping my hard length through my trousers and flinging more power into it until I’m gasping, nearly spilling in my jeans.
“Tell me, fallen, and I will make all your dreams come true. I will suck your dick better than any woman, I will give you the best sex of your life,” he purrs against my ear, licking the shell. Bile rises in my throat. Is this all we are to them?
Puppets to control? To order, to use, even when we don’t want it?
If so, how are we any better than the sheep lying dead in his bed?
“Stop,” I demand, even as the madness swirls in my head, trying to protect me from what’s happening, wanting to lash out. To get his hands off me, his mouth away from my body. Even without having a mate, I wouldn’t want him to touch me, but now, with Dawn in my life? Every touch that isn’t hers is actually painful, sending a shot of wrongness through me.
It meets his power which is still swirling through me, the pain and the pleasure almost sending me to my knees. I hate his hand, I hate the fact that my cock is reacting to his power, and I hate it even though I know it’s what he is.
Lust, pure fucking lust, and he’s using it against me like a weapon to get his way. I don’t know how to fight this, how to stop it. Panic rushes through me at what he could do to me, at what he could take...
“Why? You like it, I can feel it,” he murmurs, and reaches around me, pressing his other hand against my hard cock, both of his hands rubbing me now. I feel disgust from his touch and finally break past his influence, stumbling away as he laughs at me, his eyes bright blue with power as he watches me. “Oh, you’re a strong one, no one breaks my spells.”
Snarling, I let my madness take over as I slink backwards, my mind blank and uncertain over what just happened. It doesn’t happen to men...right?
I smash him back into the wall, my grip on his throat, but all he does is laugh. “Oh, you like it rough? Fine.” He flings out his hand and I’m thrown backwards into the wall. I jump to my feet straightaway and point at him.
“Never touch me again or I’ll kill you,” I snarl, meaning it. I want to kill him right now, right here, but I can’t. Desire for revenge wars inside me with my need to stay on our mission. So I do the only thing I can do before I bathe in his vile creature’s blood—I leave. “Clear your own bodies,” I yell at him, and race from the room.
Once outside, I press my back to the wall, my heart tripping over itself, my stomach in knots. What just happened? The madness recedes and I slump, it was nothing. Just a power play, nothing else. He didn’t do anything, nothing happened. Women have offered themselves like that, it was just a joke...a ploy.
Then why do I feel sick?
I hear voices coming this way, so I wipe my face clear and push off from the wall, storming away from the incubus’s suite and back downstairs until I’m outside. I can’t help it, I need to get away, to feel clean. I leap into the sky and fly as fast and as hard as I can to escape my own thoughts.
The feel of his hand on my body, making it do things I didn’t want.
It doesn’t help, I can still feel his slimy touch, so I swing back around and land in the forest, rushing to the secret entrance in the nephilim quarters until I enter the dungeon, my heart racing, my stomach still roiling, and my head a mess. I push into the showers and throw my clothes away, wanting to burn them.
The smell of him, feel of his power…
I yank on the water, panting as I scrub my body. When my hand passes over my cock, I turn my head and gag, remembering how his power made it hard. I scrub until I’m red raw and then step out. I feel cleaner, but not better.
I need—I need—
I need Dawn.
Ignoring my clothes, I race through the maze of cells until I find her. She’s in the cell with the minotaur, it stinks of sex, but I can’t even summon my jealousy. I smash open the door, my eyes wild until I find her.
She sits up, her face concerned.
“Griffin?”
