All of Us Villains (All of Us Villains, #1)

by Amanda Foody

The Lowes shaped cruelty into a crown, and oh, they wear it well.

The Lowe family had always been the undisputed villains of their town’s ancient, bloodstained story, and no one understood that better than the Lowe brothers.

He wore a wool sweater in September because he was perpetually cold. He carried the Sunday crossword in his pocket because he was perpetually bored. He was one year younger than Hendry, a good deal more powerful, and a great deal more wicked.

Alistair Lowe played a perfect villain. Not because he was instinctively cruel or openly proud, but because, sometimes, he liked to. Many of the stories whispered by the children of Ilvernath came from him.

Once upon a time, there had been two types of magick: frighteningly powerful high magick and plentiful, weaker common magick. Throughout history, empires had greedily fought for control of the high magick supply, and by the time humanity invented the telescope and learned to bottle beer, they had depleted it entirely. Or so they’d believed.

“Every twenty years, we send seven teenagers into a massacre and reward the one who comes out with the most blood on their hands,”

The government might’ve spared them for now, but Marianne had been forced to reduce her tyrannical threats, in case the government changed its mind. Villainy in the modern age was a delicate balance.

The Lowes did not tell their children monster stories so that they could slay them. The Lowes told them so their children would become monsters themselves.

Monsters couldn’t harm you if you were a monster, too.

“The Lamb’s Sacrifice is invincible, and an invincible curse demands an unthinkable price. This is how we always win.”

High magick fell from the stars, and when we found it, we did what humans always do. We decided it was ours to claim.

And so she made her decision. She would be the princess to walk willingly into the dragon’s lair, and she would beg the dragon to save her.

“If you’re not our friend, you’re an enemy,” the Blair warned. “That’s how I know you’re full of shit. There are no friends here. Only people you kill now, and people you kill later.”

“Pathetic is better than dead.” “No, pathetic leads to dead.” Gavin scowled.

Now he understood. The greater horror was returning home, where your loved ones no longer waited for you.

“When I say it,” Isobel murmured, “you run.” Alistair attempted to push himself up, but his strength gave out. “Joke’s on you,” he said mirthlessly. “I can’t get up.”

The only thing worse than making another champion your enemy is making them a friend.

This tournament wasn’t a place for heroes. It never had been. All the grand deeds her family had celebrated had been bloodshed just like this. And they could call it what they wanted, but Briony knew what they really were. Villains. All of them.

Do not judge the champions too harshly. Survival could make villains of any of us.