Page 103 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“Can I cut them?”

“They’re already dead, so I don’t see why not. But you should go upstairs. The one that’s coming in will smell horrible; the body has already started to decompose.”

I cringe. “That sounds gross.”

“It is horrid, actually. The smell clings to everything and saturates the air. The longer it takes to get through the autopsy,the worse the smell gets. You don’t want to be inside this room until it’s gone.”

“That’s my cue then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Creed nods and I let myself out, heading back upstairs. Sitting at the top of the stairs waiting is the damn naked cat.

“Shoo.”

“Meow.”

“Move, psst.”

He refuses to move, so I tiptoe past, but he follows me and meows again. Damnit, maybe the thing is hungry. Pulling out my phone, I google what these creatures eat.Don’t they need a special diet to stay bald or something?

“A low-residue diet. Do you know what the fuck that means?” I ask the hairless thing.

He just meows at me, so I check the fridge, finding on one of the shelves small containers labelled Daddy W.

Bingo.

I smile when I see he has his own cat meals set up like he is the damn king of England.

He weaves in and out of my legs as I walk to his bowl and dump the contents in. “I think I’ll call you Olly—Daddy Warbucks is way too weird.” A pat on his wrinkly head earns me a purr in return.

Washing my hands in the kitchen sink, I then make my way up to Laughn’s room, shutting the door behind me. I rummage through his drawers and find one of his shirts to sleep in, then I crawl into his bed and wrap myself up in his blanket. Laughn’s brimstone and ash smell is still so strong in his room; I swear it’s like he has been here the whole time. Unfortunately, I saw his dead body lying on the ground, so I know it’s just my hopes getting the better of me. It’s still early but I’m so emotionally drained that by the time I watch a few videos on my phone, I start to doze.

“Everything will be okay,” Laughn says, sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers running through my hair. “I’ll always be watching over you.”

“I need you,” I whisper with a choked cry. “It hurts so much.”

Leaning over, he wipes the tears from my eyes with his thumbs. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against my temple.

My eyes snap open to find the room shrouded in inky darkness. The lights above the snake tanks have been turned off, making me wonder if Creed came in and that’s what woke me up.

My heart hammers wildly in my chest, thinking about how real that damn dream felt.

I would do anything to feel his touch again.

Rubbing my hands down my face, I find my eyelashes are wet—I must have been crying in my sleep. Wouldn’t be the first time since I lost them. I curl up into a ball and close my eyes again. Tomorrow is a new day, and it has to get easier eventually, right?

Sweat drips down my brow as Creed yells, “Again.”

“No,” I snap, ripping the boxing gloves off my hands and throwing them in his direction.

Every day, my anger grows to the point that I feel like an atomic bomb ready to detonate. I tried to connect with Creed last night, but after my dream, I’m just angry again. It’s a never-ending cycle I can’t seem to break.

I hate looking at them, hearing them, and damnit, I hate smelling them.

Forgiveness just isn’t something I can manage. How could they have so easily killed their brothers? Has their humanitybeen stripped from them so deeply that they can no longer understand a sense of family? I’m quickly realising this is my “team” now and I just have to deal with it. Deep down, though, I know this is all Mr Z’s doing, and he needs to be stopped.

“Are you ready to spread their ashes yet?” Creed asks.

His question comes out of left field and knocks the air from my lungs. I know we share a bond, one where he can feel my emotions and his presence unnervingly calms me. Yet every time I look at him, all I can see is Laughn staring back at me.

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