Slay Me

Slay Me IMMORTAL VICES AND VIRTUES JESSICA WAYNE Get Notified Want to be notified of new releases, sales? Click here to check out my newsletter ! In the mood for bonus content such as deleted scenes, exclusive POV switch chapters, or downloadable art? Click here to find me on Patreon! Contents 1. Liv 2. Liv 3. Liv 4. Liv 5. Dante 6. Liv 7. Dante 8. Liv 9. Liv 10. Liv 11. Liv 12. Dante 13. Liv 14. Dante 15. Liv 16. Dante 17. Liv 18. Dante 19. Liv 20. Liv 21. Liv 22. Liv 23. Dante 24. Dante 25. Liv 26. Dante 27. Liv 28. Dante 29. Liv 30. Liv Also By Jessica Wayne About Jessica Wayne SLAY ME An Immortal Vices and Virtues World Novel By Jessica Wayne Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review. Edited by Dawn Proofread by Lewis Books LLC Cover Design by JoY Cover Design Blurb In No Man’s Circus, the Ringmaster controls everything–even me. Every evening, I’m forced to perform. High above a crowd of supernaturals, I fly on my lyra. Never high enough to escape my captor. And when the lights go down and the audience goes home, it’s just him and me. I shouldn’t enjoy it. This obsession he has with me. But as a hybrid in a world where power is king, I’m nothing special. Except when his eyes are on my body. He’s a beast whose strength is unparalleled, a creature who demands my obedience, but even as the twisted parts of me are drawn to him, I refuse to be broken. He’ll have to kill me first. To all those willing to step outside the norm. Welcome to the Circus. Chapter 1 Liv A bright spotlight shines down upon me, following my every step as I make my way into the center of the ring. The mat is soft beneath my bare feet, though the metal plates of my costume jingle as I move, a soft wind-chime-like noise that lulls the silent crowd filling the stands. They’re here to watch us perform. To feel something. Which is ironic given that the majority of us here at No Man’s Circus no longer possess the emotional capacity required to feel anything more than hatred for the Ringmaster. My gaze drifts across the space to a man wearing a red coat and black top hat. He stands at the edge of the ring, copper eyes on me. He’s always watching. Staring. The others believe he waits for us to make a mistake so he can punish us. I think it’s more than that. What? I’m not sure. I’ve spent the last twelve years trying to figure it out because I’m certainly not stupid enough to ask. Not even when we’re alone. Knowing he’s an unnecessary distraction, I turn my attention back to my performance. Screwing up is not an option at No Man’s Circus because our leader has killed for far less. My hand closes on the steel ring suspended above me. I move in a circle, taking calculated steps as I await the music. One beat. Two. And then—the melody starts off like a lullaby, building just like a budding romance, so I slowly spin myself, taking the ring with me. Still clinging to it, I’m lifted slowly until I’m suspended well above the ground. Up here, I lose myself in the sound, in the performance, because I can pretend that my world is far more than the gilded cage that is my reality. I lift a leg and loop it through the lyra then pull myself up. With one leg dangling through the air, I continue to spin, arching my back to show off the skin revealed by a costume that portrays me as a goddess of war. Of heartbreak. Fitting, I suppose, given my past. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if the Ringmaster knows more about me than he lets on. Magic sizzles along my skin, a dance of sparks thanks to the witch standing on a balcony hidden beneath the lights. Below, the crowd gasps and claps in delight while I continue to dance. They’re watching, but all I can feel are his eyes on me. Eyes that I long to look into even as self-preservation tells me it’s a horrible idea. I drop down, letting one leg remain through the hoop, one hand on it. The lyra spins to the beat of the music, thanks to what little magic I do have. The breeze created by my power gently pushes strands of my near-white hair from my face. As the tempo increases, so do my moves. Faster, faster, more erratic. If I had any feeling at all, I would ache for the woman in the song. A woman who lost everything because she chose to love the wrong man. Right on cue, I release the ring. And plummet. The crowd gasps. Someone cries out below. But I’m not worried. One more heartbeat and the firm body of my partner is beneath me. The gryffin’s feathers are soft beneath the flesh left exposed by my costume as I remain draped over his back, playing the part of a damsel. The crowd cheers as he brings me to the ground and lands before taking off again, disappearing into the shadows. I wait, lying on the ground. My breathing is shallow, the entire ring suspended in complete silence as I lie. Even with my eyes closed, I can sense the Ringmaster. It makes no sense, of course. Although,