Greed

  Greed

  Jennifer Snyder

  GREED

  Copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Snyder

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Stephany Wallace @ S.W. Creative Publishing, all rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  {Author Note: This book is a continuation of As You Wish, the second novella in The Monster Ball Anthology Year Two. I wanted to give the characters their happy ending in As You Wish, but the dynamics of their lives wouldn’t allow it to happen in a single night. Reading the prequel novella first is highly recommended as Greed picks up right where As You Wish leaves off.}

  Nausea rippled through me. The call of my Charge was the strongest I’d ever felt. My gut twisted as the pull intensified without warning. A curse passed through my clenched teeth. This wasn’t where I wanted to be. Not by a long shot. Hot saliva pooled in my mouth as the sensation of my Charge’s pull sharpened.

  Fuck.

  I swallowed hard and quickened my pace. My insides felt as though I was being torn in two. The call of my Charge pulled at me from all angles. He was inside the Dragon Night Casino, dead ahead, which was exactly where I’d left him earlier before moonlight had swept me away.

  Why did The Monster Ball have to end? And, why the hell did I have to be dropped off here again? I wanted to be with Alayna. Wherever that was.

  My stomach rolled, and I swallowed the bile rising up my throat as the pull of my Charge continued to magnify. I slipped my suit jacket on before I came to the doors of the casino. Alayna’s sweet lilac scent floated from its fibers. A hollow sensation centered in my chest at the memory of her wearing it at the ball.

  Was it pathetic that I missed her? I knew we’d only just met, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a strong connection, one that hinted there was something bigger at play between us than fleeting chemistry. Meeting her had been the catalyst to something great.

  I could feel it in my bones.

  The pull of my Charge sharpened yet again, nearly bringing me to my damn knees, and I stumbled forward. My pace wasn’t fast enough for the magic at play. I folded my arms over my chest and blinked once. When I opened my eyes, Hardy, my Charge, stood three feet away.

  The Dragon Night Casino pulsed with life around me, as the torturous sensation of being pulled in two subsided. I still felt like shit though. The patterned carpet beneath my shoes spun as I struggled to find my balance again. I didn’t know how my particular Sin Demon’s magic worked, but I knew no one around me had taken notice of my sudden appearance. Well, no one except my Charge. To everyone else, I’d been here the entire time. To Hardy, I’d appeared from thin air like he’d wanted.

  “There you are, Ryan,” Hardy slurred. Beads of sweat dotted the large man’s forehead and along his upper lip. His bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on me as he took a puff from his cigar. “I thought you’d disappeared on me. Hell, I thought I’d made you up. Until I looked at my bank account again.” He flashed a wicked grin. “Where you been at, boy?”

  I pulled in a steady breath and then exhaled slowly. It took a full sixty seconds before I could open my mouth without fear of barfing. Even so, there was no way I could answer his question. Not truthfully. He wouldn’t believe me.

  Or would he?

  Hardy knew what I was—I’d already granted two wishes for him—which meant there was a chance he’d believe me when I said that I’d been at The Monster Ball. Sure, he might not know what it was, but I was positive he could guess.

  I licked my lips. The taste of Alayna’s mouth lingered there. Desire for her spiraled through me. I wanted to be where she was. I needed to see her again.

  Why the hell had we been given one night to spend together only to be ripped away come dawn? Who the fuck was in charge of that idea?

  “Well?” Hardy pressed when I didn’t answer right away.

  “I’ve been around,” I said, deciding I didn’t want to share the night’s events with him.

  Maybe it was best to not blur the life I wanted with the life I had. Hell, it might be the only way to ensure that I remained sane.

  A cocktail waitress wearing a short white dress stepped to my side. “Can I get you something to drink, sir?” she asked.

  “No, thanks.” My tone was bitter—rude, even—but it couldn’t be helped. This was the last place on Earth I wanted to be.

  “I’ll be making rounds if you change your mind,” she said in an equally hostile tone before walking away.

  I exhaled another slow breath and ran my fingers through my hair.

  “Have a seat, Ryan,” Hardy insisted in a booming voice. His meaty hand slapped the open stool beside him with a thump-thump. When we’d parted last, there had been a woman with him, sitting on the stool he slapped. I didn’t see her now. Had she decided to call it a night? It was something Hardy should consider. He appeared to have had one too many drinks. “I know I’ve got one more wish with you,” his words slurred in a whisper.

  “Yeah, that you do.” One more wish was all I had to grant him, and then I could head to my lamp.

  I situated myself on the stool beside him and waited. Hardy stared at me, but he didn’t speak. My jaw tightened as time continued to tick away. He focused on smoking his cigar and eyeing the women who seemed as excited as he was to piss money away on gambling.

  He wasn’t debating his final wish. He was too busy enjoying his previous ones.

  When he took another puff from his cigar and then shifted his attention to the cards he held, I knew his final wish wasn’t coming anytime soon. He placed six chips on his already towering stack, increasing his bet, and then wiped the sweat from his brow before taking another pull from his cigar. He wasn’t nervous. We both knew he had a winning hand. He always would, because the second wish I’d granted him was to win every game he played.

  Once the inevitable happened, Hardy slipped off his stool and nodded for me to follow. We made our way to the exit of the casino and then stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the building. I had no idea what time it was, but knew it didn’t matter. Nine a.m. in Sin City looked the same as 9 p.m. Hardy shuffled his feet to a standstill and then spun to face me, his legs wobbling beneath him.

  Jesus, he was hammered.

  My eyes narrowed. “Decided on that final wish yet?”

  I needed him to speed this up.

  “Yeah.” He leaned in, and a wicked smile twisted his lips. “I wish I could teleport,” he said in a raspy whisper, his stale breath floating over my face.

  It was a stupid wish. One that made me cringe. It wasn’t specific enough and could be twisted a million different ways because of it. Not by me, but by whatever the mischievous magic flowing through my veins wanted.

  I said the words used to seal the deal, anyway: “As you wish.”

  Hardy licked his lips and eyed me. “That’s it? Just
like before, it’s done?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How does it work?” he asked. “Close my eyes, think of where I want to go, and then poof?” He snapped his fingers, accentuating his words.

  “Try it and find out,” I said.

  Hardy flicked his cigar butt into the street and closed his eyes. He exhaled a long breath, and then he was gone. I had no idea where he’d gone to, but I hoped it was wherever he’d wanted.

  My lamp appeared in all of its golden beauty on the sidewalk, and for the first time since becoming a genie, I found that I was glad to see it.

  Chapter Two

  Upon entering my lamp, I kicked my dress shoes off. They were in the center of the space, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t a slob by any means; I was exhausted. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind. Besides, it wasn’t like there was a front door to leave them at.

  I loosened the top buttons of my dress shirt and untucked it from my slacks. A deep breath forced its way from my lungs. When I inhaled again, it was as I slipped my suit jacket off and the scent of Alayna’s lilac perfume hit my nose once more. It was a reminder that everything had been real.

  I didn’t know how my night at the ball with her had been possible, but I wouldn’t dwell on any seeds of doubt that lingered in the back of my mind about whether it had happened either. The Monster Ball had been real. And so had Alayna.

  I tossed the jacket on my futon and stepped into my tiny kitchen area for a glass of water. After a few swigs, I grabbed a notebook and pen from my junk drawer.

  It was time to figure out how to see Alayna again. My soul wouldn’t rest until I did.

  I situated myself on my futon and then began to write. The first thing I wrote was Alayna’s name. Underneath, I jotted the various things I knew about her—being a siren, having been enslaved by a water demon, and a love for fruity alcoholic beverages. Nothing else came to mind other than how she felt in my arms and the taste of her tongue.

  How the hell could I be so infatuated with someone while barely knowing them? I smoothed a hand over my face and exhaled a puff of air. I mean, I didn’t even know her last name.

  Think, Ryan, think.

  I tapped my pen against the notepad. My eyes focused on the things I’d jotted down, willing something else to come to mind.

  The beach!

  She’d mentioned a love for being on dry land, but wouldn’t she have to live near a large body of water being a siren? Water was her demon’s playing field. It was where all sirens’ thrived.

  At least, I imagined as much was true.

  I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. Once I was able to bring up the Internet browser, I searched for a map of the United States. I didn’t search for a world map because I hadn’t remembered an accent when she talked. Hopefully, I wasn’t shooting myself in the foot by narrowing things down so drastically.

  When a map came up, I silently thanked Dickhead for allowing Wi-Fi in the lamp. I had no idea how he managed it, but I didn’t care. It was there to use, and that was all that mattered. Without it, I’d have surely gone insane being trapped inside my lamp for extended periods of time without a window to see the world through.

  My gaze drifted along the border of the United States, noting every area that touched a large body of water. I focused on jotting down states along the coasts. Then, I moved to name places with large lakes. When I was finished, I glanced at my list. There were a shit ton of places Alayna could be, but at least I’d narrowed it down.

  I skimmed the list again, rereading it. I knew I should feel defeated—finding Alayna would be a miracle, especially since I was confined to a certain area thanks to the demon I referred to as Dickhead—but I didn’t feel defeated at all. Deep down I knew I would find her.

  I didn’t know how, but I knew that I would.

  I ran a hand over my face. This whole thing was insane. Absolutely insane. I shouldn’t feel so strongly about someone I’d just met, but I did. I couldn’t help it. There was something about her I couldn’t shake. She drew me in unlike anyone I’d ever met. It was as though she’d gotten into my bloodstream, and I refused to let her go because of it. No one had ever made me feel so alive.

  My eyes narrowed on the screen of my laptop, searching for any place I’d missed. I was just getting in the zone when the familiar sensation of being summoned by Dickhead swam through my veins. It pinched at my insides, impossible to ignore.

  “Damn it!” I tossed my pen across the lamp and leaned back against the cushions of my futon. My gaze lifted to the gold ceiling. “I can’t believe you’re calling me already,” I shouted, not caring if he heard. “Greedy, bastard,” I muttered.

  The pull of Dickhead’s summoning grew stronger. Black tendrils of smoke rippled off me. I slumped forward, cradling my head in my hands. I didn’t want to go to him. I didn’t want to serve him any longer.

  All I wanted was to find Alayna.

  My gaze fell on the list I’d created as more black tendrils of smoke rolled off me, dispersing into the air as Dickhead’s summoning grew in strength. My gut twisted in a painful way as his magic pulled at me harder, forcing me to give in to it him. I stood and grabbed my suit jacket. As I slipped it on again, I tried to ignore the heavenly scent of Alayna that still clung to its fibers and walked to where I’d left my shoes. Once they were on, I buttoned my dress shirt so I was presentable, and then closed my eyes. I folded my arms over my chest and gave into the sensation twisting in my gut and the dancing tendrils of black smoke rolling off me.

  An instant later, I stood in front of Dickhead.

  My nose filled with the spicy scent of his cologne, sex, and greed. Dickhead looked debonair, per usual. He was dressed in all black with his hair slicked to perfection and a tumbler of scotch in hand. He didn’t notice me right away—or at least if he did, he didn’t let on—as he groped a woman’s ass while she danced provocatively in front of him. She moaned as though she liked the feel of his touch, and I averted my eyes, disgusted with the situation I’d been pulled to. I had no idea who the woman was, Dickhead went through women quickly, but I knew right away that she wasn’t human. There was an air of evil draped around her.

  It seemed fitting, given her chosen company.

  “There you are,” Dickhead said, finally noticing me. He took a swig from his glass, and then slapped the woman’s ass while he flashed me a wicked grin. She let out a gasp and then moaned, hinting at the amount of pleasure she’d gained from his gesture. “You’ve been resistant to my summons lately, Ryan. You’ve also been slack with your Charges.”

  I blinked, but didn’t speak. What was there to say? That I’d gone to The Monster Ball and couldn’t feel my last Charge’s pull, or that I didn’t give two shits about coming when he summoned me? Or how about that I was done serving him as a genie?

  Hell no. I couldn’t say any of that. There was no telling what he’d do to me if I did.

  “Tana, go get yourself a drink. Give Ryan and me a few moments alone,” Dickhead insisted, his eyes focused on the dancing woman. With a nod, she did as he asked. I hated how easily he was able to command those around him with minimal effort. It sickened me. “If your resistance continues, Ryan, I might just have to find a way to correct your behavior.” His eyes weren’t on me, but his words still held the same impact as if they were.

  He was threatening me.

  I pressed my lips together and shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from running my mouth. Provoking him wouldn’t be smart, I knew this.

  Something inside my pocket brushed against my fingertips.

  Funny, I didn’t remember putting anything in there recently. I slipped my index finger along its thin edge. Paper? Thick paper. Like cardstock.

  Had I shoved something in my pocket while at the ball? I didn’t think so.

  Even so, there was something there now. Rectangular, flimsy, and smooth. The desire to pull it out and see what it was pulsed through me. I refrained, knowing if it was something from The Monster Ball, it
might tip Dickhead off as to where I’d been. Learning this would no doubt piss him off, which was something I was positive I didn’t want.

  I’d have to check out whatever it was later. When I was alone.

  “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Dickhead asked, his eyes penetrating to my core as he stared at me.

  I licked my lips and held his stare. “Okay.”

  His eyes flashed. A smug smirk twisted at his lips and I wanted to deck him. “Good. Now, I have another Charge for you.”

  My teeth ground together. Of course he did. Why else would I be here? I knew it wasn’t to have a drink with him or to get a lap dance from that demon woman.

  “His name is Trenton Manfred.” Dickhead snapped his fingers and a tan folder appeared in his hand from thin air. There was a time when his magic had fascinated me. Now, all it did was make me hate him more. “Here’s his folder,” he said as he held it out to me.

  I stepped forward and took it, keeping my mouth shut. What was I supposed to say anyway, thank you? Not happening. I hated working for him. He had to know as much.

  “Do me a favor and make this one go faster,” he insisted.

  A smartass comment rested on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. It was for the best. The smug smirk on Dickhead’s face grew almost as though he knew what I’d wanted to say.

  Did he? Could he read my mind?

  I didn’t think so. He’d never given any indication before. Still, seeing him smirk the way he was felt as though he were privy to my thoughts. This unsettled me.

  Movement behind Dickhead and to the left caught my eye. A crow with inky black feathers and beady eyes stared at me from where it sat perched on a golden stand. A thin wire rope was wrapped tightly around one of its legs, securing it in place.