10 Lust | Sloth

<b>Lust</b>

On the list of things that currently sucked in his life, this ranked number one.

"This is getting really tiring, Clare," Lust said conversationally. He pushed the chair back and stood, heading over to the cabinet. He took out a bottle of clear liquid, grabbed a cracked coffee cup, and poured about two capfuls into it. "Drink."

She eyed him, collapsing into the seat but not taking the drink. "Luca—"

"You can call me 'Lust' if it makes you feel better," he told her. He nudged the drink toward her. "Please, drink. You'll need it."

<i>You're crazy, Clare,</i> she was thinking. Her eyes darted to the side, looking for an escape route. She didn't want to believe him, but she did.

Even though he commanded her not to remember, she could. She did. He had to re-up every few days, which explained why he was drinking as much alcohol as Gluttony. He hated wiping her memory and drinking numbed the pain. "It doesn't," she answered finally, after deciding she had no escape routes, and, even if she did, he would be able to stop her.

It took everything in him to stop himself from blurting out the truth every time she looked up at him with those wide, trusting eyes. He was so grateful when she found out because that meant he didn't have to keep his secret any longer.

He was also afraid, though. Every four days for the past three weeks, he pretended he wiped her memory to protect her. To keep her from the stress and worry of this life. He promised himself he would fix the issue without her knowing anything.

Because every time she found out, she wanted to run. And he hated that she feared him.

The first time she found out was an accident. Apparently, his beloved Clare was clumsy, and she also fell into the path of an oncoming car. Lust had used his super-speed to stop her from getting hurt. Then he had to command her not to remember.

The second time it happened—which was only four days later—she saw him conversing with a demon. That same demon looked to Clare and asked her, Do you know about his superpowers? You're very pretty. Of course, Lust had played it off as a joke, but Clare was… well, she was Clare, and she pressed until he told her the truth because he couldn't lie to her. Not directly.

One look, one look was all it took, and he spilled his feelings.

Which was what happened the third time.

"Please drink, Clare, you'll regret it in a few minutes," he told her.

She frowned at the cup. "What is that?"

A bit of his blood, some herbs. Vodka. A lot of vodka. Something to numb the pain and heal her. A witch friend of his had made it for him the first time Clare remembered her memories had been stolen, and she fainted from the pain.

He gave her a very simple answer meant to soothe her and not provoke further questioning. "A drink. It'll soothe you."

Clare gave him a sharp look. "You're talking about sins and demons as if you are one, and you want me to drink that?" Her hands were splayed flat against her thighs. Her honey-colored skin looked paler than usual, and her eyes widened with fear. She absolutely believed him. <i>Why does it feel like he's not lying to me?</i> she thought. "You're insane."

Maybe. Not for the reasons she thought, though. "Clare, please," he pleaded. A<i>re you here yet?</i> he texted. He needed a distraction before he told her again. Before he had a chance to see that look on her face—the horrified, disgusted expression when she found what he was, what he could do. He worked so hard to keep that expression off her face—until he knew it was okay until he got the okay she wouldn't respond like that anymore.

His phone pinged immediately. <i>Pulling up. Have a friend with me. Have two drinks ready. Command her to sleep. </i>Each sentence was a separate text, which annoyed him, but he needed her help. He stood and grabbed three cups and a bottle of his most expensive wine. Clare stared down at his phone. "Who are you texting?" she demanded. He searched her mind, saw she wasn't afraid at that moment, more jealous. Lust wanted to laugh; of all the things to feel around him, jealous was not one. Since the second he laid eyes on her, he knew there would never be another woman for him.

He smiled at her. "My brother," he consoled, willing her to believe it. With her mind so fragile right now, he dared not try to change any thought pattern. No, for the next hour or two, it would have to be all her. "Clare, drink." Well, except for one little thing, but it wouldn't do too much damage.

Jealousy abated, she returned to her fear of him. The only thing that would send him to an early grace, he was sure, was each time his heart broke due to Clare. "Luca, explain all of this to me, please," she murmured, but she was beginning to understand, remember. Demons. He's a demon. Like Mother, she thought, small words coming to her. The headache, the excruciating pain of retrieving her memories, would come when she finally seized one solid memory. He had about three more minutes if experience was anything to go by. Luckily, he only needed about a minute and a half.

"I mean, not really like Mother," he told her, looking out the window. Headlights flooded through the window. "I'm a lot nicer. Honestly, the whole demon thing really just sounds negative, but my siblings and I are decent people. No worse than your average human."

"Human?" Clare echoed. Outside, a door closed.

Lust sighed. "Sadly, Clare, we'll have to continue this in about thirty minutes." He looked her in her eyes, saw the confusion, and thought,<i> Sleep.</i> Her mind yielded to him immediately, eyes drifting shut. She slumped over onto the table, fast asleep, dreaming of something pointless and not of Mother, not of visions, not of anything related to him. <i>Thank God,</i> he thought, then laughed at the irony.

Lust lifted Clare and brought her down the hall to his room, laying her down on his bed and covering her up. Before he went to bed, he'd take a sniff and see if he could smell her.<i> Don't be weird</i>, he told himself, but he'd do it anyway, just not actively think about how he was doing it.

In the hallway, a long-limbed blue-eyed blonde awaited him, as well a taller, muscular blonde male who held her hand. The girl smiled at him. "This heat feels amazing," she said. "It's freezing up North." She took off the light jacket she had over her shoulders and handed it to the guy who had to be her boyfriend.

The guy next to her nodded at him. "What's up, man?" He wasn't intimidated by Lust's good looks, which was a relief. He also wasn't attracted to him, so obviously the guy was confident. Then again, his girlfriend was a psychic. He knew how this played out.

Lust sighed. "How are you?" He tied his blonde hair into a ponytail. It was going to be a very long night if the psychic was here. Up until this point, they had communicated by phone and text message, video calling, and sometimes he could reach her mind when she really needed her. If she was here in person…. "How bad is it?"

She didn't answer him, just did a once over of the room then made a beeline for the kitchen, the guy behind her. "Is that wine?" She sounded disappointed. "I was hoping for something stronger… a cheap whiskey, perhaps?"

Lust frowned. "I've never done cheap."

She lifted a shoulder. "This'll do. Here, sit, our flight leaves in three hours." She took a sip of the wine, eyes closed. The blonde stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "That is some good wine, though."

The psychic wasn't absent-minded. She wasn't stalling, picking through her visions to see what she could tell him, what would change the future and what wouldn't. However, he knew better than to read her mind and see the full extent of her visions. He had done it six years ago. He hadn't seen anything, which was the problem.

At first, her thoughts met him with a blanket of blackness. Next, his head burned like he had laid it on a stove isle turned on high. Lastly, he slipped into the blackness, burning and lost. He fell through nothingness, felt nothing, but was conscious of being. It lasted for four minutes, but he felt hundreds of years older when she kicked him out of her head.

<i>Never again</i>, he had vowed, and he had stayed true to it. Apparently the little psychic had some kind of superpower that kicked mind-readers out of her head with excruciating pain. She hadn't even realized.

"So. How bad is it?" he asked because Lust hadn't yet gotten used to being unable to protect Clare.

The only thing that worked in their favor was Mother. She would make sure Clare wasn't killed at her hands, and Mother was his worst threat. He could handle Sloth and whoever aligned with him. Greed had made it painstakingly obvious he wanted to protect Athena.

Greed never had been able to resist a woman with a smart mouth, and if Athena was anything like her thoughts, he knew Greed would find himself smitten with her.

The psychic ran her fingers through her hair. "The future isn't set in stone," she started, which was how he knew this was about to be really bad news. "But what I see now doesn't bode well for neither Clare nor the rest of the world."

He could give a crap less about the rest of the world. "What do you mean?"

It was only hours after he discovered Mother was trying to rise that he got the call from the psychic, saying she saw the rise of a powerful demon, and it was going to be horrible. She called her 'Mother.' She had called crying—sobbing actually—and terrified. The rise of Mother meant the end of the world. She couldn't kill Clare or Athena. However, he saw no other option, and if Mother kept Clare alive, then so be it. People had been suffering for eons anyway.

"I mean," the psychic told him, drowning the rest of the wine in three gulps, "that, unless you guys figure out who Mother is, and how to defeat her, you will not only lose the woman you love but your lives, too."

He had lived almost two centuries. It wasn't like he wanted to die, but if it happened… he had lived a full, fun life. He just wanted more for Clare. "You didn't come here to tell me something we already knew."

She reached for the other glass but didn't drink. "Your brother, Greed, has aligned with Sloth. They're planning to make sure Athena, the other Walker girl, survives."

"I was aware of this." He knew when he made the offer to sacrifice Athena that Sloth would immediately plot against him. However, this was a part of his master plan. She said they couldn't do it alone, it would take a group effort to save the world. Getting his siblings together wouldn't be easy if he came to him nicely. Now, if he turned every one of them against him and made them band together against a common enemy—well, that was how to make things shake.

The psychic nodded, a little smile on her face. "I see you all together now, so if your plan comes together, well… good for you." She looked worried, though. "Now, here's where things get a little tricky, Luca:

"I can see every outcome as it happens. I can't look into the future of more than one possible change. Right now, I see the group of you standing against Mother, not stopping her," she explained. "Meaning, even if Clare and Athena both survive, she still rises. Now how is that?"

Good.

Well, not good, but at least Clare got to live. Athena, too. She wasn't as important to him, but his brother loved her, whether he would say it or not. And, despite the past, Lust did at least care about his baby brother with his surly expressions and hard to please personality.

Lust sighed. "No idea. I have no idea who she is. She's been removed from our journals. I don't remember being taught anything about her." Their tutor was a goofy human who had studied demonology and their history. He had also taught them some basic fighting skills and ways on how to harness their powers to the best of their abilities. He was a good man. That was the only other person they had come in contact with.

That Lust remembered anyhow.

The psychic took a deep breath. "Well, time is running out," she said, bitting down on her lip. "We're down to three weeks to find a solution. Mother will rise, simply because you know nothing about her. None of you do."

Her boyfriend rubbed her shoulders, giving Lust a curious look. He read his mind. The man was completely human, dedicated to saving the world. He loved the psychic with everything he had in him, and he had already come up with eighteen different ways to take out Lust and give her some running time if Lust kept staring at him quizzically. "I'm aware of all this. So why are you here?" he demanded. "What new information can you give me? What is so important?"

The psychic finished off the other glass. "Oh, no, I didn't come here to tell you information specifically. I just came to be nosy. There's someone in New Orleans I need to talk to."

Lust snorted. "Thank you for the house call. I haven't seen you in person in years."

She laughed. "I came to check on Clare actually. You know, for someone who can read minds, how did you not know she was there?"

He had been drunk. And preoccupied. Hearing Sloth's voice, despite his brother's perception of him, had soothed that part of Lust that worried needlessly about his younger sibling. Almost eighty years had passed without so much as a whisper on the wind from his brother. As much as Sloth grated on his nerves, Lust worried.

But Sloth had Athena. Lust followed his brother's trail to Missouri—to a short girl with a big grin and dancing eyes. She walked with a friend, and she thought about Sebastian. Knowing that was the name he had been given, Lust paid attention. In her mind, he saw that his brother was fine, and he was happy. He saw images of Athena curled into his side. He saw Athena and Sloth cooking together, throwing noodles at the wall to see if they stuck, and laughing. He saw them at the zoo and aquarium, in his bad napping and on the sofa arguing about tv shows.

He left moments after without ever finding his brother. Sloth was fine. As long as Athena was there, he would be fine. After all, as silly as she was for thinking they were "just friends," she did love Sloth more than anyone else ever had.

"My mind was elsewhere," he answered, yanking himself from his thoughts. After all, he had seen his brother a few days ago, and he had been as surly and angry as usual. "I didn't hear her coming."

Until her thoughts basically screamed at him.

He hated that she was afraid of him.

The psychic's face softened. "You know, you two are soulmates. You can't keep the truth from her. For both of your sakes, Luca."

Lust bit back a smart response. He didn't need love advice. Actually, maybe he did—after all, he was erasing a girl's memories to keep her with him under the guise of keeping her protected. "She's afraid of me."

She shook her head once. "Clare is afraid of demons. She's afraid of Mother. She's afraid of being told her writing sucks. She is not, however, afraid of you."

But the psychic had not seen Clare's thoughts. "I'll tell her." Eventually.

The psychic put the glass down and stood. "I really do need to be going. If I wait another minute more, I'll be late, and that'll definitely affect the outcome." She seemed cheery, but then again, she was usually cheery. He had to look for other things to tell something was wrong—like the way the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I can't wait until I can officially meet Clare."

The future wasn't looking good. He resisted the urge to scream in frustration. Three damn weeks until Mother did her worst. Three weeks to get everyone together and figure out how to kill her.

Lust smiled at her, walking them to the door. "Have a safe trip," he told her, almost closing the door behind her. "And what's your name?" It's a wonder he had never known it, but they had always had more pressing matters to talk about.

The blonde smiled at him. Her boyfriend grinned. He wondered what was so funny. "I'm Hillary," she told him. "And this is my boyfriend. Ricky."

<b>Sloth</b>

On the list of things that currently sucked in his life, this ranked number one.

As three girls exited the house, Athena made her way in. She looked at Greed, her sharp eyes roaming him up and down, pausing slightly on his abs, allowing herself a quick second below his waist before snapping her eyes back to his stupid, grinning face. "Thank you," she told him, as she walked through the door, making sure not to touch him.

Sloth bristled at the thought of her looking at him. Just my friend, just my friend, he repeated in his head. He didn't want his brother to feel the anger and jealousy building in his stomach. He also had to remind himself because, despite the heated look they shared earlier, they did not have time for a relationship right now. Just my friend, just my friend.

And Sloth really loved her, which meant he had to let any romantic fantasies go. She deserved way more than he did.

"For the view?" Greed asked, watching her walk in with a wolfish grin. He wanted everything they had. The minute he realized Sloth and Athena weren't a thing, he would leave her alone. Hopefully.

She looked over her shoulder, confusion masking her face. "No, for holding the door open." She turned back around, and Sloth saw her shove her fingers into her pockets. They were trembling. Was she cold? Was she afraid? Whatever it was, Greed would know. He could tell and influence emotions.

"And the view?" Greed pestered.

"I've seen better." She paused before adding, "Sebastian has better. The best."

That was his girl. He grinned.

Sloth walked in behind them. Greed slapped a hand on his shoulder. "She's beautiful," he said, grinning. His brother, always so aggravating. "And sassy. I enjoy it."

So did Sloth. He enjoyed it too much, in fact. So much that it often got in the way of his life. It took a total of three days for him to stop caring about everything but her. It took an additional six hours to place Athena's needs before his own. At some point, he didn't know when he had decided he would die for her if need be. He stopped all the other things he had been doing—recreational torturing and killing, terrorizing, and the sex. Everything he did now had to do with her and what was best for her.

Which meant Mother had to die. And he had to talk to his siblings. But what was a short amount of aggravation to have years with the girl he loved? Because that was what he had been about to tell her. He loved her.

And did it make him selfish? To tell her when her right before he died for her? He saw no solution to keeping her safe outside of protecting her to his death. However, before he took his last breath, he would kill Clare. Let Athena live a long life. Fall in love and get married. Have a kid. Travel the world. Whatever she wanted, as long as she was happy.

Thinking about Athena had caused him to forget what his brother had even said. Not that it mattered, Sloth wouldn't have responded anyway. He had learned a long time ago that the best thing to do with his siblings was to keep quiet. At least, that worked when he couldn't throw punches at them. Everybody knew he was the strongest fighter, although Wrath was the most dangerous.

"So, brother, haven't spoken to you in the better part of twenty years," Greed said, grabbing a pair of sweats and putting them on.

"Last time we spoke, you tried to kill me. Then bury me alive," he said quietly, stopping. He could just see Athena from this position. She was sitting on the couch, looking around and taking everything in. Her fingers tapped aimlessly on the arm of the couch. "Forgive me if I haven't answered your calls. Nursing old wounds and all."

Sloth hadn't mentioned to Athena that he had seen Greed two decades ago. Give or take a few years. He'd have to explain why his brother came to visit him, and he wasn't ready to reveal that information yet, lest she look at him as someone unworthy of her love.

Because even if she didn't love him like he loved her, she loved him. No one had ever loved him like that before—damn near unconditionally. If she had responded negatively to his declaration of love, he would've accepted that and been her best friend.

Her love was worth living for, but she was worth dying for.

Greed leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, dark brown eyes full of mischief. He took nothing seriously; he aggravated everyone and definitely struck a special nerve with Wrath. "Brother…. it was for good reason. Imagine if I had let you continue."

Imagine, indeed.

Sloth arched an eyebrow, even though Greed made a good point. If Sloth had continued on his path, things with Athena would be different. Or maybe it wouldn't have been. Either way, he would never find out, and she sure wouldn't. "Imagine if, for once, you were actually straight with your answers instead of dancing around the conversation," Sloth replied.

What he told her had been true: he didn't know who Mother was, none of them did. He also knew someone had taken those entries, someone on her side, but Athena had raised a great question: who? Someone had the answers, and even if they didn't, someone knew a way to get to them. He wanted so badly to have answers for her. He hated to see her worry.

Therefore, he had no other option but to deal with Greed to the best of his abilities. He wouldn't rule out punching Greed in the face, though. It wasn't an option at the moment, but it very well could be later.

"Now dancing sounds fun." Greed grinning, looking into the living room at Athena. She stared back at him, chin tilted up. Sloth tried to search for attraction in her eyes, something that said she wanted to be with Greed. He saw nothing, though, except wary trust.

Good.

"She's stronger than most," Greed murmured, keeping his voice purposefully low. He had vowed never to influence the emotions of his siblings unless they asked. He was many things, but he never broke promises. "It takes me a little more power to make her feel."

Of course Athena was special—and it was time other people take notice. And not special in the way that all women were special to the men that loved them. Athena was a special as him, and Mother's requirement of her only confirmed what Sloth had always suspected: Athena wasn't quite the average human. Yet, he wouldn't say anything until he knew for sure what she was. "Does it?" He looked over at her; she was studying the television with extreme interest. He listened in—nothing but the news, flooding in Central Florida.

Greed nodded. "Yes, but I'm sure you know that."

"You would be quite surprised at what I don't know, brother."

"And you would be surprised at what I <i>do</i> know, brother."

He wouldn't be, though. Greed hoarded information and stories like most people hoarded knick-knacks. He loved stories and prophecies, putting things together, knowing more than everybody else. He held it over their heads. "So tell me. What do you know about Athena?" he asked, feigning disinterest. If Greed knew how truly curious he was to figure out who Athena was or what she was, he would tease him. Aggravate him. Eventually, he'd tell him, but Sloth didn't have time for his games.

Greed arched an eyebrow. "That's partly why I invited you here��I hoped you would know." When Sloth didn't respond, he continued. "See, I was in New Orleans when Lust found out dear old Mom rose—so I did some research. Talked to some of my favorite girls. Had totally unrelated to my research sex with some. I found nothing about her. Nobody seemed to have the slightest idea of who she was or even what she was. No legends, no anything.

"Until I found this one older lady. A homeless woman on the street, muttering about 'Mother, this, Mother that.' Usually, I wouldn't pay attention, but she grabbed me on the arm, and she said, 'Do you know the Walker girls?'" Greed looked into the living room. Athena raptly paid attention to the television. She's listening as hard as she can, Sloth thought. Good. She needed to know. "At that moment, I knew of one, Clare, so I stopped to humor her.

"She says more babble, things I don't understand, but then her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she says to me, clear as day, 'The death of those girls will be destruction for all, even you immortal one.' Now, she may be crazy, but she hit the nail on the head with that one." He paused, looking into the living room. "I flew here a few days later. I've been watching her."

He didn't need to be told. Sloth had seen Greed slinking around the city, trying to get to Athena. He hung around her classrooms, but Sloth was always there at a distance, sending women to talk to him, making things fall into his path, or even walking to Athena himself to make sure Greed couldn't. Greed hadn't noticed. Sloth was good at what he did, and Greed was easily distracted by anything with breasts.

"It took me a few days to get her alone without my powers," Greed continued. "You kept her nice and locked up, didn't you?"

Unfortunately. He thought he was doing the right thing, keeping her in his house, but he had caged her, and that made her unhappy. They also had two different ideas about her life. To him, self-preservation outweighed happiness. To her, happiness outweighed her life. She'd rather a short, happy life than a long, miserable one. A balance would have to be sought, even if he had to rent a room in those disgustingly small, germ-infested dorms. As soon as he knew how far Mother's reach could extend, he could loosen his reigns on Athena.

"Well, I had to make my move. See, the thing is, brother, you know I have my selfish reasons for why I do things." Greed looked into the living room. Athena tilted her head to the side at the television, but her right ear turned toward the kitchen. "Before I pledged loyalty to either girl, I wanted to meet them both.

"It's no secret you and I don't get along, and that Lust and I do, but, I've met Athena spoken to her, and I do say I enjoy her presence over her blander cousin's." He grinned. "I want to protect Athena Sloth, but there is one little problem."

Sloth arched an eyebrow. He needed help. If it had to be Greed so be it, but he would've preferred anyone else. Outside of Lust, Greed was his least favorite brother. One had killed his family, the other had tried to kill him countless times. Again, though, Sloth didn't know his brother to be a liar. If he wanted to protect her, he would. With his life. "All because you like her personality?"

Greed shook his head, leaning off the wall. "And her face. She has a nice ass, as well. But those aren't the reasons." He took a deep breath. "Mother will rise regardless. We have no way to protect both girls. When she rises, it will bring death and destruction.

"Athena is spunky—she's smart. She's handy with a saber. I saw her through your window, and if she's hard for me to influence, she'll be hard for others. By contrast, Clare is plucky and beautiful, but when the world ends, it's not her I want at my side rebuilding it, stopping Mother."

Sloth let his words sink in. "You're telling me we let Clare die, and when Mother rises, we let Athena help us rebuild it?" he clarified. God, it was a better option than her death. He didn't want Clare to die either. Not necessarily. But both of them couldn't survive.

Partly, Greed was right. Sloth had met Clare. He saw nothing Lust saw in her. The girl seemed boring, scared, and shaky, like a kitten in a lion's den. Still, to see her dead, shredded into nothing…. It wasn't right.

"Fine," Sloth said. If it'll protect Athena. She was his best friend, his closest confidant, although he didn't share much with her. More than anybody. She had slept next to him, in his house, had even fought against him, and he hadn't wanted to kill her. "What does your help entail?"

Greed shrugged. "I'm interested in her—not like that." He held his hands up defensively. "Of course, she is beautiful, and all she has to do is offer: but, I want time with her. Talk to her. Take her—and you, of course, her watchful bodyguard—with me to put this together. I'm smart, but Athena is special.

"You teacher how to defend herself physically. I'll teach her to defend herself mentally. We can make her stronger, so when Mother comes—"

"—I can defend myself," Athena said, her voice calm and quiet. Sloth looked over to the doorway. He hadn't heard her come in, but there she was, watching them with mild curiosity. "I figured you guys knew I was listening."

Greed looked her up and down. Grinned wolfishly. "We did."

Sloth watched Athena, looking for any tell-tale signs of how she truly felt. Her left fist was balled up—worried but determined to do what was needed. The right fist meant fear and fear alone. Planted feet—not about to run, but they pointed to the door, so she wanted to. She felt exactly like she should've in this situation.

"So. What's the plan?" she asked casually. She looked at Sloth. Can we trust him? No, they couldn't. They didn't have a choice, though. He gave her an imperceptible nod. "Do we hand Clare over? Kill her ourselves?"

Sloth could tell she didn't want to. Her voice trembled.

Greed shook his head. "No. We protect both of you until we come up with some answers."

"And then?"

"And then we hand over Clare."