“Go. Or I’ll tell Dad about you skipping school last week.”
“Bitch,” she muttered, but then went into the bedroom as directed.
I pulled out a small pocketknife as I approached Jack, making a small slit lengthwise in his gag. Jack sucked in a deep breath, but I dug the tip of that blade against his crotch before he released it.
“Scream and I cut your balls off. Understand?”
Jack let out that breath in a furious, but quiet, puff. “How’d you get away from Ashton and get back here?” he growled, the words somewhat garbled from the remaining tape.
I smiled. “Call me lucky, but that’s not what we’re going to talk about. You’re going to tell me who the other Purebloods are here, and you’re going to do it right now.”
His mouth twisted in a gruesome parody of a grin. “Or what? You’ll kill me? We both know you’re gonna do that anyway. Or you’ll have someone else do it, if you don’t have the guts. You’ve got nothing to threaten me with, Mara, and even if you do cut off my balls for not talking, dead men don’t need balls anyway.”
I set the crossbow down to clap my hands. “Bravo! You’re a brave man, even for a filthy Pureblood. So brave that I guessed threatening you with death or dismemberment wouldn’t be enough to make you tell me what I want to know. But, see, I met a new friend while I was in the other realm, and I bet she can encourage you to talk.”
Then I rose and opened the cabin door. “Oh, Rachael . . .” I called out.
A rushing sound from the sky preceded my future mother-in-law’s approach. She landed with an abrupt, predatory grace, those obsidian wings folding to allow her to pass through the doorway as she strode inside. Even though I’d expected her, the sight of the gorgeous Fallen still made me tighten my hand on my knife. Without her wings, Rachael might have looked like a normal, exquisite blond, but with those black wings trailing behind her and the aura of menace she exuded, Rafael’s mother was more frightening than beautiful.
Jack must have agreed, because I had to slap my hand over his mouth to stifle his instant scream.
“Ah-ah-ah. We talked about screaming,” I reminded him, wagging the knife.
Rachael’s mouth curled as she looked between me and the Pureblood taped to the chair. “You amuse me, little Partial,” she drawled.
Normally I’d have taken offense at the patronizing tone, but considering that amusement in her case was a good thing—it was novelty that had led Rachael to spare Rafael’s life when he was born, after all—I wasn’t going to complain. Hell, I hoped she found me downright hilarious, in fact.
“Jack, meet Rachael,” I said. “She ate your friend Ashton, but you know women. Just not satisfied with one thing if they can have two. See, I promised Rachael that if she took me back here, I’d give her at least one more Pureblood to munch on, so you might want to rethink telling me about who the others are. Or I’ll have no Purebloods to give her except you, and after I saw what happened to Ashton . . . you really, really don’t want that. Trust me.”
Jack stared at Rachael with the same horrified fascination with which I’d once stared at Drew and Ashton. I knew from experience what he was thinking: that he was trapped by a monster who could take far more than his life. Regular death still meant an afterlife, but Fallen fed from a Pureblood’s supernatural essence—the same eternal imprint that would ensure existence after this life—and Rachael would take that, devouring Jack until there was truly nothing left.
Some things were more frightening than death, and oblivion was one of them. But since Jack had sentenced countless Partials to that same fate when he’d fed from them, I felt no pity for him.
Rachael smiled, revealing twin dimples that somehow lost their charm when her wings extended like a black cloud behind her.
“You test my patience, Pureblood,” she said, her voice melodic and chilling at the same time.
Jack began to talk.
CHAPTER TEN
I rode down the main street of Nocturna, not acknowledging the various mutterings from Partials on the sidewalk as I passed by.
“. . . didn’t I hear she was dead?”
“. . . Jack said Rafael killed her . . .”
“. . . sure doesn’t look dead, does she?”
But the lit skulls that marked the front of Bonecrushers were the only thing I focused my attention on. Every stride from the horse brought me closer, while a curious calm replaced my normal impatience. In so many ways, my journey for justice had started here, so it was fitting that it should end here.
I didn’t bother tethering the horse when I reached the corral, instead jumping down and leaving it to wander at will. Its former owner wouldn’t need it anymore, and soon someone else would claim it. Nothing valuable was wasted in Nocturna, and it was a fine horse.
“Heard you were dead, Mara,” a cool voice noted behind me. “You sure stink like death, but I don’t believe in zombies, so I guess Jack was full of shit about Rafael doing you in.”
I turned to face Billy, noting the burly Halfie looked pissed. Not that I blamed him. Jack had told me all about how he’d spread the word that Rafael was a Pureblood. Had even added a nice touch about how he’d watched in horror as the ruler of Nocturna had dragged me through a barrier for munching on later. As Rafael’s friend, Billy had a right to be mad, seeing me stroll around as though I hadn’t been instrumental in smearing Rafael’s name.
“I stink because I went through a sewage system, again, and if you want to help me catch some real Purebloods, I need you to do me a favor.”
Billy tugged on the end of his tattered leather jacket. “This better be good. I’m in no mood for bullshit games.”
I came nearer until we were close enough to kiss, but Billy didn’t flinch. He just stared at me with hard brown eyes.
“Oh, it’s good. I promise.”
Then I whispered what I needed him to do, waiting until I got a nod of confirmation before walking through the double doors into Bonecrushers.
Several heads turned, and mutterings swept through the crowd. Even the singer on stage paused in his rendition of the Smashing Pumpkins’ “Disarm” to stare at me. It seemed like everyone had heard the tale Jack had spread, but then again, such shocking charges against Rafael would travel at the speed of light. I was only relieved that my aunt and uncle hadn’t had the chance to tell their Partial friends about my initial, mistaken belief about Rafael. If I hadn’t used those gateways to cross back over right when I had, I would’ve been too late to stop the flow of information on that side.
I jumped onto the top of the nearest table, my new vantage point making it easy to see that the doors to Bonecrushers were now closed. Then, just in case anyone wasn’t paying attention, I fired two rounds into the ceiling.
“People, we have Purebloods hiding in Nocturna,” I called out loudly.
Various ominous rumblings sounded at that statement, punctuated by a few calls of “Rafael” and “Kill the fucking Pureblood!”
“I know what Jack told you about Rafael, but it’s not true,” I went on, still in that same ringing voice. “Rafael is not a Pureblood. Jack lied, and the reason he did is because he’s a Pureblood himself.”
An eruption of shouts followed this statement. I waited for the initial roar to die down before speaking again.
“In fact, there’s more—”
“Don’t believe her!” a voice screeched out. Heads swung toward the singer, who pointed his guitar at me. “She’s lying to cover for Rafael, so she must be a Pureblood like him!” he continued emphatically. “Jack’s been a trusted guard here for over a hundred years, but she just strolled in the past decade. You’re going to believe her over him? She also just happened to survive a Pureblood attack, when everyone knows no one survives those!”
I was once again the center of attention—this time, with a wave of animosity from the crowd that was palpabl
e. Bonecrushers catered to the toughest, wildest Partials in Nocturna. If this crowd charged me, I’d be toast, even with my guns.
“Yes, I’m new here,” I called out, not showing the slightest sign of fear to incite them. “Yes, Jack’s been here for over a century, and yes, I survived a Pureblood attack when almost no one lives through those. In fact, I survived two of them. What are the odds of that, right? But let me prove who the real Purebloods are—”
The hole in the roof over the fire pit suddenly exploded with movement. Black wings fanned smoke and embers as Rachael burst through, dropping Jack’s bound form onto the top of the crowd. He bobbled for a second on various heads and shoulders before thudding to the ground when people scrambled to get out of the Fallen’s way as she landed beside him. A surge of patrons went for the doors, shouts ringing out when they found them blocked. Thank you, Billy, I said silently. I knew the Halfie could find a way to barricade them in time.
“Stop!” I yelled. “She’s with me!”
It might have been sheer amazement that slowed the mad scramble for the door, although a few people still tried to claw their way out. I only had seconds to make my point before chaos took over, so I hurried to continue.
“We all know Fallen feed off Purebloods. Purebloods, not Partials. If Jack isn’t a Pureblood, then that Fallen can’t steal the essence out of him.”
“Finally,” Rachael muttered before snatching Jack up. She ripped the duct tape off his mouth, but Jack didn’t even get the chance to scream before her lips sealed over his.
“Someone stop her!” the singer shouted.
No one moved toward Rachael. She had an empty circle around her that allowed for easier viewing as Jack thrashed in her arms, his eyes bulging in horror as she continued her deep, lethal kiss. After only a few seconds, he began to shudder, and then he went abruptly limp even as lights danced in an intricate pattern across Rachael’s lovely skin. She dropped Jack’s lifeless body to the floor as those lights on her skin ebbed, and then wiped her mouth almost daintily on a wing.
This was the second time I’d seen this in less than a day, so I wasn’t shocked like most of the other onlookers. I spoke up in the sudden stunned quiet.
“Jack kidnapped me and handed me over to a Pureblood, who pulled me through to the next realm. Then Jack made up that story about Rafael to cover what he’d done and to get rid of Rafael. But when I was in the next realm, this Fallen came across the Pureblood and ate him. She brought me back here because I promised to give her another Pureblood as payment. Earlier, Jack told me who the other Purebloods were. They’re in this bar—”
A flash of metal caught my vision. I’d kept a wary eye on him and the other person I knew was a Pureblood, so I had time to lunge before the gunshot rang out, firing back even as white-hot pain blasted through me. My quick reaction meant the shot tore through my upper arm instead of my heart, so the impact spun me around, but I didn’t collapse. Instead, I dropped to one knee and fired again, striking the shooter a second time. He tried to raise his gun at me again, but a large form barreled into him, knocking it away.
“Hold him,” Rafael’s stern voice commanded amidst the sudden pile of people jumping in to restrain Lance, the singer who’d shot me.
“She’s lying! The bitch is lying!” Lance screamed.
“As you can guess,” I rasped, raising my voice, “Lance is one of the two Purebloods here. Hank, our friendly neighborhood bartender, is the other.”
Rafael reached me right as several people hauled Hank over the wooden countertop. Rafael pulled me into his arms, shielding me from any other potential gunshots. Over the wide shoulders of my mate, I saw Hank disappear into the crowd of furious Partials. While Lance still shrieked and cursed me, Hank was oddly silent. He must have realized his fate had been sealed as soon as Rachael had dropped through that smoke hole.
Speaking of Rachael, she still stood in the center by the fire pit, watching the melee around her with a distinct little smirk.
“You Partials are more entertaining than I remembered,” I heard her remark over Lance’s screams and the rough cheers at whatever was being done to him and Hank. Then she caught my eye, nodded once, and flew back out the way she’d come in.
“Mara, your arm,” Rafael muttered, setting me back to rip the sleeve off his jacket and tie it around me.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” I replied, wincing at the pressure from the makeshift bandage. “And you weren’t supposed to come here until I convinced everyone that you’re not a Pureblood.”
He grunted. “I wasn’t about to stay in the other realm wondering if my mother would keep her word. I watched over you from the skies while you captured Jack. Then I stayed out of sight in the fields when you came in here, but once I heard the gunshots, I had to get to you.”
I couldn’t criticize. If it had been me outside hearing the gunshots, I wouldn’t have stayed away, either, danger or no danger. Luckily for us, by the time the shots had rung out, the people inside had seen enough to realize Jack had been lying.
And luckily for us, Rafael had put on his shirt and coat while waiting in the fields, so the markings on his back were concealed from any curious eyes.
His large hands stroked my face before he kissed me. The feel of his mouth, combined with the joy of wrapping my arms around him, even though one throbbed painfully, made the rough surroundings fade away. By the time he lifted his head, I didn’t even notice the shouts around us as the Partials administered their own form of justice to the two Purebloods.
“Let’s leave,” Rafael murmured. “I have a doctor at my castle who can treat your arm.”
“It can wait a little longer. We need to get my sister back home. She’s still at Jack’s cabin, pouting because I wouldn’t let her come with me.”
Rafael shook his head with a snort. “Another stubborn Partial, eh?”
“It runs in the family,” I whispered before kissing him again. Lena would be thrilled when I told her she could come here to visit me—and my father would be glad when I told him I’d only let her travel through the gateway in Rafael’s castle, so she would avoid the town until she was older.
“Let’s go, my mate,” I said once we broke the kiss.
His smile took away even the pain in my arm. “Yes. First back to your world, and then back to our home.”
I grinned at him. “Our home, huh? I’m glad you see it that way, because I intend to make a few changes.”
A brow rose. “Changes?”
“We’ll start with the front hall,” I said, letting him lead me out of Bonecrushers. “Really, Rafael, ‘medieval chic’ is so last century. . . .”
Continue reading for an exclusive excerpt from
CAGED WARRIOR
by Lindsey Piper
Copyright © 2013 by Carrie Lofty
The first installment in a fierce and sensual new paranormal romance series featuring a proud race on the brink of extinction
CAGED WARRIOR
The Dragon Kings #1
Lindsey Piper
Malnefoley:
No time for formality, cousin. Forgive me.
My darling Caleb is dead. Jack and I have been imprisoned. Dr. Aster is obsessed with learning how Jack was born naturally. Endless experiments and torture. He removed one of my ovaries. My knuckles have yet to heal. He’ll cut off my hands if I fight back again, but I’m tempted every time my little boy screams.
Those who’ve been ruined are sent to the Cages. Some never return. Reed, of our own Clan Tigony, will try to escape before that fate. I hold little hope. He’s been driven insane. One leg taken. No tongue.
Please help us! You lead the Council. I know we’ve had our differences, but to keep punishing me will destroy the Dragon Kings. Aster guards the secret to our survival, but at this price?
Hurry, Mal.
In love and Faith of the D
ragon,
Nynn
CHAPTER ONE
She wasn’t in the lab. That’s all she knew. The smells were different. Fewer sterilizing cleansers and less recycled air. More body odor. Piss and sweat. Dirt. Wet rocks.
Audrey opened her eyes and blinked. She pushed up onto her hands and knees. Pain banged at her temples—the ache of still-healing blows to the skull and her own frantic pulse. Lifting her head was an effort, like swimming through wet cement.
Her fuzzy vision sharpened as she got used to the dim lighting. Just a pair of bare incandescent bulbs. A humid mist hung heavy in the cavelike room. Even when her eyes worked together, focusing, that mist shrouded details. She couldn’t tell where the algae-covered walls began and ended.
The bars to her four-by-four cage were a prison. Solid iron. She lifted swollen hands and grasped the cold metal. Frustration ate at her insides. Rattling the cage bars, she shrieked, bellowed with all her might.
“Where is my son?”
At least in the lab, she and Jack had shared a cell. No bars there. Only walls painted black. Just as disorienting. But that confinement had almost felt safe. Almost. She’d held her boy, thankful the darkness concealed the worst of their wounds from one another.
Now all she had was iron bars, algae, and a black pit where her heart had been.
“Where is he? Aster! You son of a bitch!”
Footsteps.
The hair lifted on the backs of her forearms. As her heartbeat jacked up, she noticed her dirty body. Her vulnerability. She wore a paper hospital gown—no underwear, no shoes. Had she been dragged straight from the lab? The last thing she remembered was being strapped to an operating table. A mask had pumped anesthetic into her mouth and nose. Maybe that explained her grogginess. From surgery to a Dragon-damned cave.
And now she wore a damping collar. But why? Her powers had never manifested. Giving birth to the first natural-born Dragon King in a generation was the only truly remarkable thing she’d ever done.