Page 66 of Sin

The words exploded out of me. Apparently I did need to explain after all.

“She looks dead.”

“She’s starving. I found her in the wine cellar, nearly unconscious. She collapsed on our way to her room.”

“Well, pick her up, you twat.”

I held up my bare hands. “Can’t. Not without killing her. It has to be you.”

He could not have looked more put out. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, dropping the towel and pushing into the small space to scoop Merri up.

I followed him out of the elevator, panic giving my voice an edge as I pressed, “She needs to feed, Malice. She’s fading fast.”

“I told you she needed her fucking cam work. You feed her.”

“It can’t be me. I’m not safe.”

“So get Sin or Chaos. They both volunteered.”

“They aren’t back yet, and”—I risked a glance at Merri’s face, her lips pale and bloodless, complexion waxy and drawn—“I don’t think we can wait.”

Mal let out a woeful sigh and rolled his eyes before looking down at her. I saw the flicker of concern cross his face, but as fast as it appeared, he schooled his expression back into the indifferent, stony facade he usually wore. “Fine. Just this once.”

Chapter

Nineteen

MERRI

The room was swaying gently. Why was it swaying? Was I on a boat? How the fuck did that happen?

“It can’t be me. I’m not safe.” The smoky velvet-coated voice reverberated from within the firm male chest my head rested against. He didn’t sound pleased. In fact, Malice sounded like he was... mocking Grim.

What had happened from stepping into the elevator to now?

And why did it seem like it had been a game of musical Brits? I started off with one and woke up with the other.

“Bloody hell,” he continued, still either unaware or uncaring that I’d come to. “Haven’t had a wank in centuries, and now I have to do it with a fucking audience. What a show it’ll be, all ten fucking seconds of it.”

That got my attention.

Wide awake now, my eyes snapped open. “Wait,what?”

“Oh, nice to see you awake, sleeping beauty.” If one could major in sarcasm, Malice would surely have his PhD.

He kicked open my bedroom door and carried me into the room before unceremoniously depositing me on my bed.

“Let’s get this over with. I have things to do this evening.”

I pushed myself up to my elbows, which was harder done than said. My head was swimming and my body felt like it had been filled with lead. “Getwhatover with, Malice? What exactly do you think is going on here?”

He stood before me, bare-chested, beautiful, and glaring. God almighty, I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. It was really unfair for the horsemen of the apocalypse to be so pretty. I squinted, trying to parse out which one he was supposed to be. Now that I knew Sin was Famine, and I could only assume, given his aversion to touching me, that Grim had to be Death, and Chaos was a walking war machine so that one was basically a gimme—I shuddered, recalling the way he’d ripped that demon’s head off—so that only left...

“Pestilence.”

He blinked, then smirked and held his arms out on either side of his body before taking a bow. “In the flesh.”

“Definitely too pretty.”

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