Gods and Graves

by Katie May

As a wraith, Zaid is able to alternate between his real body and this shadowy, incorporeal one. Makes him a fucking terrific spy. However, he can only hold this form for about an hour and usually only during the day, when the shadows are the most prominent.

Krystian, with his white-blond hair, golden skin, and slightly pointed ears. His good looks draw them in, but his sunny personality keeps them hooked.

Centuries ago, I was born with a birthmark shaped like a sword and a shimmering haze surrounding me. Ares chose me as one of his champions. The other three were all born within minutes of me, and together, we trained and learned how to utilize our skills as supernaturals to protect the innocents. When we reached the age of twenty-five, we were put into a deep, catatonic sleep, which would only end when we were needed, since there’s only ever one team active at a time. We woke up two years ago, after Aphrodite’s team was slaughtered by a feral giant.

As a blood fae, Rafe has to drink blood more often than a vampire in order to utilize his powers. But the bloodlust has corroded away his mind—chipping away a piece at a time—until all he cares about is violence and death. He revels in tearing his victims apart. Listening to them scream. Having them beg for it all to end.

“You’re a wraith, aren’t you?” I move until I’m only an inch away from his face, standing on my tiptoes to study him better. “Want to be my shadow daddy?”

Actually, he’s drenched in blood. It coats his shoulder-length black hair, streaked with red and blue, his tan skin, and his clothing. When he smiles, I notice some of his teeth are sharper than the others. A vampire, maybe? No. Not a vamp. A blood fae. I can tell by his hair. Those red and blue strands? They’re natural, not dyed. Only fae have hair like that. A blood fae, a wraith, a shifter, and an elf.

“You protected my teammate. Now we’ll protect you. You have my word.” Then Thea does the worst thing she could possibly do around four hardened warriors. She begins to bawl.

“You’re such a good little slut, putting on a show for me.”

If I wasn’t obsessed before, I certainly am now. Thea is mine. And no one will take her away from me.

Moonlight flickers across his face like sentient white vines. My feet still. This is Krystian…but it’s not. This close, I can see that his eyes are black as pitch. Inky veins extend from his eyes and branch across his face, pulsating beneath his pale skin. Even his hair seems to have changed. It’s still white, but instead of golden undertones, there appears to be blue streaks layered in the strands. Krystian’s smile widens, unveiling perfectly white teeth. “I wondered what Krystian was keeping from me. I didn’t expect it to be a beautiful woman. Hello, dear. You can call me Krys.”

“You’re a little messed up, aren’t you, love?” Krystian says lightly. He doesn’t sound perturbed by the prospect, though. If anything, the heat in his eyes builds until it’s a blazing inferno that sets me aflame. “She’s perfect,” Rafe counters gruffly. I preen.

I won’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.

She belongs to death, not to you. Belongs to death. Oh…hell no. I belong to no one and nothing. Not ever again.

Yes, I believe him. How could I not, when he’s staring at me like he’ll pluck the stars from the sky if I asked him to?

I don’t believe in fate or soulmates or anything as ridiculous as that, but if I did, they'd be mine. We found each other in my first life, then again in my next. And I have no doubt we’ll be drawn to each other in death too.