Sinners' Kingdom #1: The Book of Lust (Complete)

77

Getting the Shard had only been half the battle, I realized far too late. I still didn't understand how or why Feathers had it in the first place, nor did I understand how he could have just given it to me like it was nothing if he was really the enemy from the start. Or brainwashed by the enemy. Or whatever his excuse was, I didn't know. This wasn't a fairy tale. A damsel in distress — me, apparently — couldn't simply waltz in and break the evil witch's spell with sheer goodness and innocence or whatever bullshit Feathers had tried to imply by pretending my appearance had made any difference. No matter how good of an actor he was with all of his soft lies and pretty smiles. No matter how much I wanted to believe them all.

But it was too late for all of that now with death charging us down, massive and monstrous. It was too much to even be afraid of anymore, too unbelievable. This was a fever dream, but no matter how fantastical, I couldn't fold under the crushing surrealness and die here. Not after everything. Live! Fight! Survive!

Okay, think. Might as well, since Lust was literally doing all the legwork, leaving me with nothing else to do but cling on and try to use my brains instead. Shard. Teleport. Escape — but only with a reflective surface to fulfill the magical requirements, too. But couldn't Lust just use my eyes as the toll again! As much as I feared being plunged into unseeing darkness for the second time when I'd only just recovered, and only half my sight at that, it beat death by flattening. Not to mention that Lust was slowing down, and not because he meant to. Exhaustion seeped out of his body and into mine, somehow palpable, somehow identifiable, maybe because of the contract bond that afforded me this shallow insight into his state. Or maybe it was instinctual knowledge that came from looking death in the eye. Or maybe it was the long, brutal gashes I noticed for the first time that ran down his back, hidden until now because of the poor vantage point my position gave me as Lust held me tight against himself. Jesus Christ — I could see down to the bone! The flesh was practically flayed off his body in strips down the horrifying wounds that laid open his back. Blood everywhere, streaming down his legs and hitting the grass in splatters with every step, body in tatters! How had I missed it!

Mammon was almost caught up to us now, but the closer he drew, the clearer his condition became, too. That blood matting his black fur definitely included his own, and the dark hue had hidden exactly how much drenched him when he had been too far away for me to see clearly. But just like Lust, gruesome injuries married his body, parts of his pelt lifting in a trail of rough ridges because of the parted flesh underneath. When he snarled and bared his teeth anew, blood-red eyes flashing with unbridled fury, more blood dribbled out between his deadly teeth, the picture of carnivore wrath.

"Just shut up and follow me!" Lust said calmly, though with raised voice to ensure Mammon heard him over the now deafening, crushing noises of the monster racing after us and destroying anything in its path. "This is the only way to get Sable away from here. Back to the lake, I need a reflection. The clouds are parting, I can make it work. Only need time and the sun."

Another savage snarl from Mammon. I had no idea what he was saying, telepathically or otherwise, but Lust clearly understood every word and had no qualms about contradicting him with careless ease, even as they both leaned into their sprinting, giving it all they had.

"One diversion then," Lust said, replying to something unheard. At the bottom of every increasingly harsh breath, fatigue brewed, but he paid it no mind and clutched me to himself just the same. "One diversion will be enough to buy time. The storm is clearing. I have the Shard. As long as you and I are touching when I fall into the dream dimension, we can follow the trail to the next Shard. It's that simple."

Another pause. Oh, God. We couldn't keep running like this forever. How much longer could they hold out? How much more blood could they possibly lose? They were hardier than humans by a thousandfold, but even demons' bodies had their limits, Princes or not.