Miranda Grant's Blog
August 21, 2022
Newest WIP: To Love and To Cherish
Prologue
Heroes of war risk their lives to keep our kingdom safe. Join the military to –
Honestly, I’m just here to kill people.
- Evangeline
I’d always been a fan of murder. Some people just needed to die – rapists, animal abusers, enemy soldiers, greedy monopolists, those thick enough to actually need warning labels to live, or – Gods! Those who used people scissors to cut up paper. Those sick fuckers needed to be stabbed, skinned, fucked to death by a yondu, and then set on fire. Did you know how awkward it got when you were mid-torture and you went to pull out your people scissors, only for the damn things not to work because some asshat had dulled them on paper? Cue awkward eye contact.
Then there were the parents that kept showing you baby pictures like they didn’t notice the second “aw” was a lie, the servers who judged you for how much salt you used on your ice-cream, the people who put the cereal in before the milk, the psychos that hoovered before they mopped –
Basically, the list was very long. My siblings called me anti-social, but that wasn’t true at all.
I loved people.
When they died.
Preferably by my own hands.
Which was why I was joining the military at eleven – the earliest one could with parental permission. It was getting a bit hard for my family to hide all the bodies, and my mother (an actual heartless bitch) was starting to look at me funny. At least on the battlefield, it was acceptable to just leave your kills where they were.
But oh my gods, if you left one body on the kitchen counter, suddenly everyone was losing their shit.
“You shouldn’t have killed him, Evangeline.”
“He’s a fucking noble, Evangeline.”
“Why does he have two carrots shoved in his eyes, Evangeline?”
My answer of, “To help him see better, Mother,” had got me a smack across the face and immediate enrolment the next morning.
Which brought me to now.
Heroes of war risk their lives to keep our kingdom safe. Join the military to –
Honestly, I’m just here to kill people.
- Evangeline
I’d always been a fan of murder. Some people just needed to die – rapists, animal abusers, enemy soldiers, greedy monopolists, those thick enough to actually need warning labels to live, or – Gods! Those who used people scissors to cut up paper. Those sick fuckers needed to be stabbed, skinned, fucked to death by a yondu, and then set on fire. Did you know how awkward it got when you were mid-torture and you went to pull out your people scissors, only for the damn things not to work because some asshat had dulled them on paper? Cue awkward eye contact.
Then there were the parents that kept showing you baby pictures like they didn’t notice the second “aw” was a lie, the servers who judged you for how much salt you used on your ice-cream, the people who put the cereal in before the milk, the psychos that hoovered before they mopped –
Basically, the list was very long. My siblings called me anti-social, but that wasn’t true at all.
I loved people.
When they died.
Preferably by my own hands.
Which was why I was joining the military at eleven – the earliest one could with parental permission. It was getting a bit hard for my family to hide all the bodies, and my mother (an actual heartless bitch) was starting to look at me funny. At least on the battlefield, it was acceptable to just leave your kills where they were.
But oh my gods, if you left one body on the kitchen counter, suddenly everyone was losing their shit.
“You shouldn’t have killed him, Evangeline.”
“He’s a fucking noble, Evangeline.”
“Why does he have two carrots shoved in his eyes, Evangeline?”
My answer of, “To help him see better, Mother,” had got me a smack across the face and immediate enrolment the next morning.
Which brought me to now.
January 15, 2021
Bjerner and the Beast
Prologue
The Birth of a Beast
753, Jabal Tariq (Gibraltar)
"It’s not safe here.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Euryale pressed. “She’s –”
“Ahhhhhh!”
As Medusa’s nails dug into her shoulder, Euryale tried not to wince.
Shuddering against her, Medusa’s lower half, a great scaly tail, writhed on the ground while the snakes making up her hair hissed in agony. “We have…to keep…go–”
“We can’t,” Euryale said firmly. She looked up at their eldest sister, Stheno, deploring that they stop. Medusa would not make it much further. Her labour pains were too great.
Looking around them, Stheno cursed. There was no shelter out here. The sky was bright and sound travelled easily. Perseus would find them without challenge.
“Cut…them out.”
Euryale sucked in a harsh breath as her gaze flicked back to Medusa. Her sister’s mien was one of firmness and finality. But surely, she couldn’t be se–
“Lay her down.”
“Stheno!”
Ignoring her, their eldest sister dug into the leather pouch tied around her waist. She pulled out a vial filled with blue liquid. “Drink all of it.”
Medusa grabbed the potion without pause. Euryale’s heart clenched. If her sister drank that, Perseus would have no trouble cutting off her head.
“Don’t –”
“Ahhhhhh!”
As another contraction caused her sister to double over, Euryale tried her best to keep her upright. She wanted to knock the vial to the ground, but she knew she couldn’t. Medusa had made her choice. Her eyes watered.
“How could you?” she hissed, the pain and helpless frustration in her heart making her sound angry. “You knew better than to sleep with him. How could you think that he would protect you?”
“He promised –” Medusa gritted her teeth, her face contorting in pain. The vial shook in her hand.
Euryale’s eyes narrowed. “He’s promised many a girl, you dolt. Women throw themselves at him all the time.”
“Enough,” Stheno ordered as she slithered forwards and wrapped a hand around the vial. “It matters no more. The deed is done.” She helped Medusa raise the potion to her lips. “Now drink.”
Euryale looked away. She could not watch the act that would seal her sister’s fate.
As the wind changed direction, blowing towards them with a mocking gentleness, the three of them froze. The snakes on their heads all rose together, their long forked tongues licking out to taste the breeze.
Perseus.
“Stheno, we must –”
“Cut…them…”
“Don’t drop the vial!” Stheno snapped as she tightened her grip on her sister’s hand. She popped the cap back on, then ducked under Medusa’s arm. “We have to get to the top of the hill.”
“We’ll never…”
“Shut up, Medusa, and just reserve your strength. Now let’s move!”
They half-dragged, half-carried their youngest sister between them. Euryale’s shoulders ached from the weight of her, but she refused to slow down. They did not have any time to waste. Perseus’ scent was growing stronger. He was gaining on them. Any second and –
“Ahhhhhhh!”
Medusa slumped forwards, her pain too great to resist. Her two sisters staggered beneath her.
A shout of excitement sounded behind them.
Twisting around, Stheno pulled out her sword. “I’ll buy us some time,” she said. “You just get her to the top. There’s a cave hidden behind some vines. Follow the scent of guano.”
“Wait! I can’t –”
Her heart dropped as her sister disappeared into the trees. Stheno might be a great warrior, but Perseus had the favour of the gods behind him. Athena herself had gifted him with a shield to protect him from their stone-turning gazes.
Euryale’s fists clenched at the thought of the goddess. Athena had once been Medusa’s patron, her friend even. But instead of being understanding when Poseidon had seduced their sister (and what mortal could resist his charms?), Athena had cursed her with this monstrous form. And when Euryale and Stheno had stood beside her, outraged at the unfairness of it all, the goddess had cursed them too.
“Come on,” she urged as she pulled her sister’s torso back off the ground. Their tails and bellies slid across the forest floor, crackling the many dried leaves and twigs that sat in their way.
“We won’t…make…it.” Medusa gritted her teeth as she groaned.
“We will,” Euryale assured her despite not believing it herself. We have to. Medusa wouldn’t survive otherwise. Her sister had fallen in love with a mortal twenty years ago and had given up her mortality so she could age and die alongside him. The foolish girl.
Euryale’s snakes hissed, signalling her annoyance.
“Cut them…”
“Hush,” she snapped. “We’re almost there.”
But as the smell of guano filled their senses, a high-pitched, feminine scream sounded behind them. Crows cawed as they took to the air. Trees rustled loudly. The two sisters froze, their eyes wide.
“Stheno…”
“You have to –” Medusa groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Go back.”
Euryale wanted more than anything to check on their sister, but instead, she shook her head. “No.” Dragging Medusa through the trees, she added, “Stheno is strong. He cannot kill her.”
Unless he has Gaia’s harpe.
Forcing such thoughts aside, Euryale sniffed out the hidden cave. It was behind a curtain of magical vines. They would be safe here; no one could enter without the blood of a gorgon.
After lowering Medusa to the ground, Euryale slid around to face her. “Do you still have the vial?”
She nodded jerkily.
“Drink it.”
Digging around in her pouch, Euryale pulled out a small blade. She gripped it tightly, her hand shaking. Forcing herself to calm, she took a deep breath. The knife stilled.
Looking Medusa in the eye, she waited for the potion to kick in. Her sister’s eyes slowly started to lose focus.
“Chrysaor…”
“What?” She was certain Medusa didn’t know anyone named Chrysaor. The man she’d loved all those years ago, his name started with an A…or was it an E?
“The name…of my baby…if I don’t…”
“Shhh,” Euryale soothed, her throat tightening at the idea of losing both sisters today. “Everything will be okay.”
“Pegasus…”
Euryale shook her head. “You will name your twins yourself.” Gently removing the vial from Medusa’s hand, she put it in her pouch. Another deep breath filled her lungs. The blade rested against Medusa’s stomach.
Gods, she wished Stheno was here to do this, but since she wasn’t, the duty was hers and it was one she could not shirk.
Snakes gave birth through the opening near the end of their tails, but Medusa had fallen pregnant before she’d been turned. Her children had developed in her original womb, making it impossible for her to give a natural birth. If Euryale didn’t cut them free, they would either suffocate or rip a way out themselves.
“Do…it.”
Euryale nodded. With one quick motion, she cut her sister’s skin. She concentrated on what she was doing rather than who she was doing it to. She peeled away the layers, reached in and felt around. A child’s crown met her fingertips. Rounded and smooth. No baby snakes made up its hair.
Pulling its head free, she then cleaned its mouth and nose, allowing it to breathe. On the first wail, Medusa began to cry. “My baby… My baby.”
Ignoring the emotions clogging her throat, Euryale focused on her task. It – he came out easily. A strong healthy boy that looked uncannily like his father. After placing the child in her sister’s arms, Euryale reached back inside for the second babe.
Medusa shrieked with a terrible, her scream ripping through the cave. Bats took flight in a flurry of wings. Panic grabbed Euryale’s heart and squeezed. Jerking upright, she looked at her sister. Her mouth dropped open in horror.
Medusa cradled her baby to her chest, rocking and screaming in agony. Hot tears ran down her face, mixing with the snot pooling out of her nose.
“Nooo! Nooooooooo!”
Euryale couldn’t believe it. The baby had turned to stone.
The Birth of a Beast
753, Jabal Tariq (Gibraltar)
"It’s not safe here.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Euryale pressed. “She’s –”
“Ahhhhhh!”
As Medusa’s nails dug into her shoulder, Euryale tried not to wince.
Shuddering against her, Medusa’s lower half, a great scaly tail, writhed on the ground while the snakes making up her hair hissed in agony. “We have…to keep…go–”
“We can’t,” Euryale said firmly. She looked up at their eldest sister, Stheno, deploring that they stop. Medusa would not make it much further. Her labour pains were too great.
Looking around them, Stheno cursed. There was no shelter out here. The sky was bright and sound travelled easily. Perseus would find them without challenge.
“Cut…them out.”
Euryale sucked in a harsh breath as her gaze flicked back to Medusa. Her sister’s mien was one of firmness and finality. But surely, she couldn’t be se–
“Lay her down.”
“Stheno!”
Ignoring her, their eldest sister dug into the leather pouch tied around her waist. She pulled out a vial filled with blue liquid. “Drink all of it.”
Medusa grabbed the potion without pause. Euryale’s heart clenched. If her sister drank that, Perseus would have no trouble cutting off her head.
“Don’t –”
“Ahhhhhh!”
As another contraction caused her sister to double over, Euryale tried her best to keep her upright. She wanted to knock the vial to the ground, but she knew she couldn’t. Medusa had made her choice. Her eyes watered.
“How could you?” she hissed, the pain and helpless frustration in her heart making her sound angry. “You knew better than to sleep with him. How could you think that he would protect you?”
“He promised –” Medusa gritted her teeth, her face contorting in pain. The vial shook in her hand.
Euryale’s eyes narrowed. “He’s promised many a girl, you dolt. Women throw themselves at him all the time.”
“Enough,” Stheno ordered as she slithered forwards and wrapped a hand around the vial. “It matters no more. The deed is done.” She helped Medusa raise the potion to her lips. “Now drink.”
Euryale looked away. She could not watch the act that would seal her sister’s fate.
As the wind changed direction, blowing towards them with a mocking gentleness, the three of them froze. The snakes on their heads all rose together, their long forked tongues licking out to taste the breeze.
Perseus.
“Stheno, we must –”
“Cut…them…”
“Don’t drop the vial!” Stheno snapped as she tightened her grip on her sister’s hand. She popped the cap back on, then ducked under Medusa’s arm. “We have to get to the top of the hill.”
“We’ll never…”
“Shut up, Medusa, and just reserve your strength. Now let’s move!”
They half-dragged, half-carried their youngest sister between them. Euryale’s shoulders ached from the weight of her, but she refused to slow down. They did not have any time to waste. Perseus’ scent was growing stronger. He was gaining on them. Any second and –
“Ahhhhhhh!”
Medusa slumped forwards, her pain too great to resist. Her two sisters staggered beneath her.
A shout of excitement sounded behind them.
Twisting around, Stheno pulled out her sword. “I’ll buy us some time,” she said. “You just get her to the top. There’s a cave hidden behind some vines. Follow the scent of guano.”
“Wait! I can’t –”
Her heart dropped as her sister disappeared into the trees. Stheno might be a great warrior, but Perseus had the favour of the gods behind him. Athena herself had gifted him with a shield to protect him from their stone-turning gazes.
Euryale’s fists clenched at the thought of the goddess. Athena had once been Medusa’s patron, her friend even. But instead of being understanding when Poseidon had seduced their sister (and what mortal could resist his charms?), Athena had cursed her with this monstrous form. And when Euryale and Stheno had stood beside her, outraged at the unfairness of it all, the goddess had cursed them too.
“Come on,” she urged as she pulled her sister’s torso back off the ground. Their tails and bellies slid across the forest floor, crackling the many dried leaves and twigs that sat in their way.
“We won’t…make…it.” Medusa gritted her teeth as she groaned.
“We will,” Euryale assured her despite not believing it herself. We have to. Medusa wouldn’t survive otherwise. Her sister had fallen in love with a mortal twenty years ago and had given up her mortality so she could age and die alongside him. The foolish girl.
Euryale’s snakes hissed, signalling her annoyance.
“Cut them…”
“Hush,” she snapped. “We’re almost there.”
But as the smell of guano filled their senses, a high-pitched, feminine scream sounded behind them. Crows cawed as they took to the air. Trees rustled loudly. The two sisters froze, their eyes wide.
“Stheno…”
“You have to –” Medusa groaned, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Go back.”
Euryale wanted more than anything to check on their sister, but instead, she shook her head. “No.” Dragging Medusa through the trees, she added, “Stheno is strong. He cannot kill her.”
Unless he has Gaia’s harpe.
Forcing such thoughts aside, Euryale sniffed out the hidden cave. It was behind a curtain of magical vines. They would be safe here; no one could enter without the blood of a gorgon.
After lowering Medusa to the ground, Euryale slid around to face her. “Do you still have the vial?”
She nodded jerkily.
“Drink it.”
Digging around in her pouch, Euryale pulled out a small blade. She gripped it tightly, her hand shaking. Forcing herself to calm, she took a deep breath. The knife stilled.
Looking Medusa in the eye, she waited for the potion to kick in. Her sister’s eyes slowly started to lose focus.
“Chrysaor…”
“What?” She was certain Medusa didn’t know anyone named Chrysaor. The man she’d loved all those years ago, his name started with an A…or was it an E?
“The name…of my baby…if I don’t…”
“Shhh,” Euryale soothed, her throat tightening at the idea of losing both sisters today. “Everything will be okay.”
“Pegasus…”
Euryale shook her head. “You will name your twins yourself.” Gently removing the vial from Medusa’s hand, she put it in her pouch. Another deep breath filled her lungs. The blade rested against Medusa’s stomach.
Gods, she wished Stheno was here to do this, but since she wasn’t, the duty was hers and it was one she could not shirk.
Snakes gave birth through the opening near the end of their tails, but Medusa had fallen pregnant before she’d been turned. Her children had developed in her original womb, making it impossible for her to give a natural birth. If Euryale didn’t cut them free, they would either suffocate or rip a way out themselves.
“Do…it.”
Euryale nodded. With one quick motion, she cut her sister’s skin. She concentrated on what she was doing rather than who she was doing it to. She peeled away the layers, reached in and felt around. A child’s crown met her fingertips. Rounded and smooth. No baby snakes made up its hair.
Pulling its head free, she then cleaned its mouth and nose, allowing it to breathe. On the first wail, Medusa began to cry. “My baby… My baby.”
Ignoring the emotions clogging her throat, Euryale focused on her task. It – he came out easily. A strong healthy boy that looked uncannily like his father. After placing the child in her sister’s arms, Euryale reached back inside for the second babe.
Medusa shrieked with a terrible, her scream ripping through the cave. Bats took flight in a flurry of wings. Panic grabbed Euryale’s heart and squeezed. Jerking upright, she looked at her sister. Her mouth dropped open in horror.
Medusa cradled her baby to her chest, rocking and screaming in agony. Hot tears ran down her face, mixing with the snot pooling out of her nose.
“Nooo! Nooooooooo!”
Euryale couldn’t believe it. The baby had turned to stone.
December 24, 2020
The Little Morgen: Prologue
The Birth of a Monster
942, Sea of Darkness (Atlantic Ocean)
Thalliya swam through the deep blue sea, a smile stretching across her face. She flicked her tail faster and faster, gaining speed as she cut through the water. The sun flickered high above her, its rays sinking into the dark depths of her home.
Angling up, she breached the surface and laughed. Her high-pitched giggle resonated in the hot morning air. Flopping backwards, Thalliya threw her arms out wide, allowing herself to float on top of the waves. The gentle lap of the water against her skin helped soothe the burn of the sun. She peered up at the sky, knowing better than to look at the bright yellow orb directly. The last time she’d done that, she hadn’t been able to properly see for ages.
“Ta-ya!”
Smiling at the shout of her name, the little mermaid dove back underwater. She waved at her baby brother as he swam towards her. His light blue tail cut through the water with a smoothness that belied his usual clumsiness.
“Ketea!” she gushed, her eyes shining brightly.
Her little brother smiled wildly. Racing towards him, Thalliya grabbed his arm and dragged him backwards. He squealed in pure delight, loving the speed at which she swam.
Looking up, Thalliya spotted the rest of her family. Her twin sister vibrated with the same excited energy as she did. Her mother and father both smiled warmly as their dark blue tails propelled them forward.
“Are you ready? I’m so excited!” her twin gushed as she swam towards Thalliya. “I can’t wait to wiggle my toes. Ariel said we get ten of them. Ten!”
“I –”
“And I want to move through the humans’ portals. All of them. Ariel says you have to learn the right magic first, but she said a guy-she-spoke-to-there’s buddy absolutely said it was possible to do. Like for anyone. Even for you and me. Don’t you want to learn magic?”
“Marina,” their mother said with a small chuckle.
Turning with wide eyes, she looked at their parents. “Did you learn magic when you went to land?”
“It’s not magic; it’s something they call reading.”
“Reading magic?”
“No, it’s –” She stopped as she shared a smile with their father. “Yes, reading magic.”
“I can’t wait!”
Neither could Thalliya. She’d dreamed of walking on land every night for the last year. She was finally of age. In another few minutes, she’d feel what it was like to have legs!
“Hey, doofus!”
Their father rolled his eyes before turning to face his brother, who was also their king. Ariel waved at them from beside him. Thalliya and Marina waved back.
“You heading off?” their father asked.
The king nodded. “Ariel has a recital at two.” Turning to face her and Marina, he grinned. “Make sure you try this thing called honey. It’s delicious.”
Her sister nodded enthusiastically, her eyes practically popping out of her head. Thalliya giggled. Sharing a glance with her twin, she silently agreed not to say anything. The faster this conversation was over, the faster they could get their legs.
Laughing, their uncle shook his head. “Okay, okay. We’re off. You two be good.” As he swam away, he shouted over his shoulder. “And don’t forget about the honey!”
She wouldn’t.
Eyes shining, Thalliya grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her through the water. Laughing, their parents followed suit, holding Ketea between them.
“The last one to Malaqah is a rotten crab!” Releasing her twin’s hand, Thalliya swam as fast as she could.
But Marina was faster. She blitzed through the water like a dolphin, sticking her tongue out as she passed.
“Stop!”
Startled, Thalliya did as she was instructed. She turned to look back at her parents. Her mother’s face was pale; her father’s was full of horror. As they raced towards her, Thalliya opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. But she didn’t get the chance.
Ketea was thrust into her arms.
“Stay here!” her mother shouted.
She turned, watching them swim ahead. Her mouth was still open. Her brain was still frozen with confusion.
But then Marina screamed and Thalliya’s blood ran cold. She clutched Ketea to her chest as she started to shake. Her twin was entangled in a net. She was being wrenched to the surface.
Not knowing what to do, Thalliya stayed where she was. And she hated herself for it.
“Hold on, Marina!” their mother shouted.
“We’re coming for you!”
“Mother!” She reached out a hand as their father made it to her side.
“Marina!”
“Help!”
Thalliya turned Ketea’s head against her chest, holding her hand over his eyes. She wanted to cover her own, but she couldn’t.
She watched as Marina was dragged upwards by the fishing net. Their mother held her hands, trying to pull her free. Their father grabbed the bottom of the net and tried to swim down. Neither were of any use. Marina disappeared above the surface. And her mother was wrenched up too.
Thalliya gasped. Trembling, she backed away. What could she do? What could she do?
“Father!” She wanted to ask him how she could help, wanted to ask what was happening, but she couldn’t think past her own fear.
“Stay there!” he ordered as he swam for the surface. His dark blue tail cut through the water like a knife. His anger, his fear, they were near palpable. And then, he too was gone, wrenched above the surface by the men on the dragon-head ships.
Her heart thudded in her ears like crashing waves.
“Ta-ya!”
“It’s okay,” she cried. “It’s going to be okay.” Holding him close, she started to swim for the surface. She just needed to look, to see that her sister and mother and father were okay. She just needed to –
She screamed.
A shape had been dumped back into the water. Blood spread everywhere. She knew it was one of them, but she didn’t know who. The person’s tail and fins were gone. And so was their head.
Shuddering, she brought both hands to her eyes. But she couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t stop herself from peeking out between her fingers. Another body hit the water. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she held herself like she wished her mother or her father would.
A third body was dropped, this one smaller. Her size. She screamed and screamed. Swishing her tail, Thalliya propelled herself forward. It was only when she caught another movement out of her eye, that she realised she’d let go of Ketea.
Her heart stopped.
Her tail froze.
Her mouth opened and closed uselessly as she watched him swim toward one of the bodies.
She needed to get to him. She needed to grab him before the humans did. She’d thought they were friendly. No one had told her they could be this cruel. But even though she knew what she should do, she couldn’t move.
Fear left her frozen. She tried to call out to him, to beg him to come back.
But she was too late. A net came down and scooped him up.
He was gone. Just like all the others.
Trembling, Thalliya shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. She prayed, despite all evidence, that this was just a dream. That she would wake up and everything would be okay. That everyone would be okay. “Don’t leave me!”
She shuddered with every intake of breath. This was supposed to be a day of happiness, of excitement. She and Marina were supposed to be trying honey right now. She couldn’t…
No…
This couldn’t…
Swimming towards her twin, she screamed. “No! NOOOOOOOO!” She pulled Marina’s body against her and rocked her back and forth as another splash reached her ears. She refused to look up, refused to see what she knew in her heart to be true. “Sis, please! Please…” she cried.
She heaved so hard, her chest hurt. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.
Her stomach revolted. Her pain increased.
“Marina…”
She cried until she couldn’t see anymore due to the puffiness of her cheeks. Until her devastation turned into anger. Into rage.
Squeezing her sister’s hand, Thalliya lifted her head and howled.
“Quiet ye screams, my child.” The words were said as a murmur and yet, they slid into Thalliya’s head at a volume that was impossible to ignore.
Startled, she stopped crying. Forcing open her eyes, she stared at the woman before her. Her lips parted in awe.
The woman had legs.
And yet she floated in the water. Able to breathe. Able to speak.
“Who are you?” Thalliya whispered.
The woman smiled. Her golden hair flowed around her, framing her beautiful face. “I am Freya Goddess of Love and War. I heard the pain in yer heart, my child, and I am here to offer ye the power to avenge yer family, should ye want it.”
Thalliya’s lips trembled. She nodded. She wanted that. She wanted that so much. Looking down at her sister, she murmured her name with barely a sound. “I want it.”
“Then let her go. Give her to Ran so that ye may be mine.”
Thalliya shook her head. She couldn’t.
She couldn’t.
“It must be done, my child. Ye cannot revenge her otherwise. Or Ketea. Or yer mother and father. Give her to Ran.”
With a broken sob, Thalliya gripped her tighter. Then she kissed her chest, murmured an apology, and released her. She watched as her twin’s body sank into the darkness. Gone forever.
“Tell me,” she said, looking up. “Tell me how to avenge them.”
The goddess smiled as she held out her hand. “Give me yer heart, my child.”
Thalliya frowned in confusion. “But I’ll die.”
“Nay. Ye will be reborn as my champion. With me as the keeper of yer heart, no one will be able to harm ye ever again.”
Thalliya wanted to believe her. Needed to believe her. Otherwise, she’d have nothing worth living for. Her entire family was gone. She was all alone with just their screams for company. She couldn’t live like this. A tear slid down her cheek before vanishing as just another drop in the ocean.
Trembling, she raised her chin. “Tell me how.”
A golden comb appeared in the goddess’ outstretched hand. Its handle was a mound of green and blue jewels. A sea dragon curled around them, guarding its treasure with a fierceness that stole Thalliya’s breath. Beneath the dragon, three large teeth made up the bottom of the comb. Each one was sharpened to a deadly point.
Her heart pounded in her ears. With a hard swallow, she reached for the comb. It was hot to the touch, nearly scolding. She wanted to jerk her hand away, but didn’t dare to. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the dragon. Her eyes widened when it moved beneath her hand and bit her.
Had it not been for Freya, she would’ve dropped the comb. The goddess’ hand closed over hers, forcing her to hold onto it as the dragon dug into the flesh of her palm. Thalliya’s tail thrashed beneath her as tears stole her vision.
“It must feed on yer pain, my child.”
“It hurts!”
“It will pass.”
Crying out in agony, Thalliya tightened her fist around the comb. A large cloud of blood seeped from her hand. The dragon bit deep into her palm, chewing out a hole in the centre. And then it was inside her, moving up her arm.
Thalliya’s screams increased in pitch and volume as she watched it slither beneath her skin. Every length it traveled, it did so by chewing the muscle in its way. By the time it reached her shoulder, Thalliya was shivering with convulsions.
But the pain she had just experienced was nothing compared to the agony she felt now as it slid across her ribcage and into her heart.
Throwing her head back, Thalliya screamed again.
“Do it now!” Freya shouted as she pushed Thalliya’s hand towards her chest. The teeth of the comb scraped over her heart, but didn’t break the skin.
Shaking violently from the pain, Thalliya didn’t know if she could go through with it. It hurt so much already. She just wanted it to stop.
“Now, my child!”
She sobbed uncontrollably. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Closing her eyes, she wished she could find comfort in her mother’s arms.
But she never would.
Because they’d taken her from her. They’d taken everyone.
On a broken scream, Thalliya slammed the comb into her chest.
She gasped. Her heart jerked against the three teeth. Her eyes snapped open as she sagged forward in agony.
“Give it to me!”
Tightening her fist around the comb, Thalliya gritted her teeth and pulled. Tears flooded the sea. She stopped, unable to endure the pain.
But then the pounding in her ears was interrupted by another splash. And another and another until she was drowning in the sickening sound that would haunt her forever. Clenching her jaw, Thalliya took a deep breath.
And ripped her heart free.
The goddess took it without hesitation. A bright light flashed in front of her, but Thalliya was too weak to lift her head.
“Breathe, my child. The pain will be over soon.”
A warm hand touched her shoulder. The dragon inside her chest wriggled where her heart had lain. She clenched her teeth, expecting more pain. Startled, she looked up as a delicious heat spread through her entire body.
“Our deal is done.” The goddess smiled warmly. Then her eyes hardened as she grabbed Thalliya’s chin. “Never give yer heart to another,” she warned, “or I will take back what I have just given.”
Her lips trembling, Thalliya nodded. “Never,” she whispered. Her fists opened and then clenched again. She would not rest. She would never know love.
Not until every last man was dead.
942, Sea of Darkness (Atlantic Ocean)
Thalliya swam through the deep blue sea, a smile stretching across her face. She flicked her tail faster and faster, gaining speed as she cut through the water. The sun flickered high above her, its rays sinking into the dark depths of her home.
Angling up, she breached the surface and laughed. Her high-pitched giggle resonated in the hot morning air. Flopping backwards, Thalliya threw her arms out wide, allowing herself to float on top of the waves. The gentle lap of the water against her skin helped soothe the burn of the sun. She peered up at the sky, knowing better than to look at the bright yellow orb directly. The last time she’d done that, she hadn’t been able to properly see for ages.
“Ta-ya!”
Smiling at the shout of her name, the little mermaid dove back underwater. She waved at her baby brother as he swam towards her. His light blue tail cut through the water with a smoothness that belied his usual clumsiness.
“Ketea!” she gushed, her eyes shining brightly.
Her little brother smiled wildly. Racing towards him, Thalliya grabbed his arm and dragged him backwards. He squealed in pure delight, loving the speed at which she swam.
Looking up, Thalliya spotted the rest of her family. Her twin sister vibrated with the same excited energy as she did. Her mother and father both smiled warmly as their dark blue tails propelled them forward.
“Are you ready? I’m so excited!” her twin gushed as she swam towards Thalliya. “I can’t wait to wiggle my toes. Ariel said we get ten of them. Ten!”
“I –”
“And I want to move through the humans’ portals. All of them. Ariel says you have to learn the right magic first, but she said a guy-she-spoke-to-there’s buddy absolutely said it was possible to do. Like for anyone. Even for you and me. Don’t you want to learn magic?”
“Marina,” their mother said with a small chuckle.
Turning with wide eyes, she looked at their parents. “Did you learn magic when you went to land?”
“It’s not magic; it’s something they call reading.”
“Reading magic?”
“No, it’s –” She stopped as she shared a smile with their father. “Yes, reading magic.”
“I can’t wait!”
Neither could Thalliya. She’d dreamed of walking on land every night for the last year. She was finally of age. In another few minutes, she’d feel what it was like to have legs!
“Hey, doofus!”
Their father rolled his eyes before turning to face his brother, who was also their king. Ariel waved at them from beside him. Thalliya and Marina waved back.
“You heading off?” their father asked.
The king nodded. “Ariel has a recital at two.” Turning to face her and Marina, he grinned. “Make sure you try this thing called honey. It’s delicious.”
Her sister nodded enthusiastically, her eyes practically popping out of her head. Thalliya giggled. Sharing a glance with her twin, she silently agreed not to say anything. The faster this conversation was over, the faster they could get their legs.
Laughing, their uncle shook his head. “Okay, okay. We’re off. You two be good.” As he swam away, he shouted over his shoulder. “And don’t forget about the honey!”
She wouldn’t.
Eyes shining, Thalliya grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her through the water. Laughing, their parents followed suit, holding Ketea between them.
“The last one to Malaqah is a rotten crab!” Releasing her twin’s hand, Thalliya swam as fast as she could.
But Marina was faster. She blitzed through the water like a dolphin, sticking her tongue out as she passed.
“Stop!”
Startled, Thalliya did as she was instructed. She turned to look back at her parents. Her mother’s face was pale; her father’s was full of horror. As they raced towards her, Thalliya opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. But she didn’t get the chance.
Ketea was thrust into her arms.
“Stay here!” her mother shouted.
She turned, watching them swim ahead. Her mouth was still open. Her brain was still frozen with confusion.
But then Marina screamed and Thalliya’s blood ran cold. She clutched Ketea to her chest as she started to shake. Her twin was entangled in a net. She was being wrenched to the surface.
Not knowing what to do, Thalliya stayed where she was. And she hated herself for it.
“Hold on, Marina!” their mother shouted.
“We’re coming for you!”
“Mother!” She reached out a hand as their father made it to her side.
“Marina!”
“Help!”
Thalliya turned Ketea’s head against her chest, holding her hand over his eyes. She wanted to cover her own, but she couldn’t.
She watched as Marina was dragged upwards by the fishing net. Their mother held her hands, trying to pull her free. Their father grabbed the bottom of the net and tried to swim down. Neither were of any use. Marina disappeared above the surface. And her mother was wrenched up too.
Thalliya gasped. Trembling, she backed away. What could she do? What could she do?
“Father!” She wanted to ask him how she could help, wanted to ask what was happening, but she couldn’t think past her own fear.
“Stay there!” he ordered as he swam for the surface. His dark blue tail cut through the water like a knife. His anger, his fear, they were near palpable. And then, he too was gone, wrenched above the surface by the men on the dragon-head ships.
Her heart thudded in her ears like crashing waves.
“Ta-ya!”
“It’s okay,” she cried. “It’s going to be okay.” Holding him close, she started to swim for the surface. She just needed to look, to see that her sister and mother and father were okay. She just needed to –
She screamed.
A shape had been dumped back into the water. Blood spread everywhere. She knew it was one of them, but she didn’t know who. The person’s tail and fins were gone. And so was their head.
Shuddering, she brought both hands to her eyes. But she couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t stop herself from peeking out between her fingers. Another body hit the water. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she held herself like she wished her mother or her father would.
A third body was dropped, this one smaller. Her size. She screamed and screamed. Swishing her tail, Thalliya propelled herself forward. It was only when she caught another movement out of her eye, that she realised she’d let go of Ketea.
Her heart stopped.
Her tail froze.
Her mouth opened and closed uselessly as she watched him swim toward one of the bodies.
She needed to get to him. She needed to grab him before the humans did. She’d thought they were friendly. No one had told her they could be this cruel. But even though she knew what she should do, she couldn’t move.
Fear left her frozen. She tried to call out to him, to beg him to come back.
But she was too late. A net came down and scooped him up.
He was gone. Just like all the others.
Trembling, Thalliya shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. She prayed, despite all evidence, that this was just a dream. That she would wake up and everything would be okay. That everyone would be okay. “Don’t leave me!”
She shuddered with every intake of breath. This was supposed to be a day of happiness, of excitement. She and Marina were supposed to be trying honey right now. She couldn’t…
No…
This couldn’t…
Swimming towards her twin, she screamed. “No! NOOOOOOOO!” She pulled Marina’s body against her and rocked her back and forth as another splash reached her ears. She refused to look up, refused to see what she knew in her heart to be true. “Sis, please! Please…” she cried.
She heaved so hard, her chest hurt. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.
Her stomach revolted. Her pain increased.
“Marina…”
She cried until she couldn’t see anymore due to the puffiness of her cheeks. Until her devastation turned into anger. Into rage.
Squeezing her sister’s hand, Thalliya lifted her head and howled.
“Quiet ye screams, my child.” The words were said as a murmur and yet, they slid into Thalliya’s head at a volume that was impossible to ignore.
Startled, she stopped crying. Forcing open her eyes, she stared at the woman before her. Her lips parted in awe.
The woman had legs.
And yet she floated in the water. Able to breathe. Able to speak.
“Who are you?” Thalliya whispered.
The woman smiled. Her golden hair flowed around her, framing her beautiful face. “I am Freya Goddess of Love and War. I heard the pain in yer heart, my child, and I am here to offer ye the power to avenge yer family, should ye want it.”
Thalliya’s lips trembled. She nodded. She wanted that. She wanted that so much. Looking down at her sister, she murmured her name with barely a sound. “I want it.”
“Then let her go. Give her to Ran so that ye may be mine.”
Thalliya shook her head. She couldn’t.
She couldn’t.
“It must be done, my child. Ye cannot revenge her otherwise. Or Ketea. Or yer mother and father. Give her to Ran.”
With a broken sob, Thalliya gripped her tighter. Then she kissed her chest, murmured an apology, and released her. She watched as her twin’s body sank into the darkness. Gone forever.
“Tell me,” she said, looking up. “Tell me how to avenge them.”
The goddess smiled as she held out her hand. “Give me yer heart, my child.”
Thalliya frowned in confusion. “But I’ll die.”
“Nay. Ye will be reborn as my champion. With me as the keeper of yer heart, no one will be able to harm ye ever again.”
Thalliya wanted to believe her. Needed to believe her. Otherwise, she’d have nothing worth living for. Her entire family was gone. She was all alone with just their screams for company. She couldn’t live like this. A tear slid down her cheek before vanishing as just another drop in the ocean.
Trembling, she raised her chin. “Tell me how.”
A golden comb appeared in the goddess’ outstretched hand. Its handle was a mound of green and blue jewels. A sea dragon curled around them, guarding its treasure with a fierceness that stole Thalliya’s breath. Beneath the dragon, three large teeth made up the bottom of the comb. Each one was sharpened to a deadly point.
Her heart pounded in her ears. With a hard swallow, she reached for the comb. It was hot to the touch, nearly scolding. She wanted to jerk her hand away, but didn’t dare to. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the dragon. Her eyes widened when it moved beneath her hand and bit her.
Had it not been for Freya, she would’ve dropped the comb. The goddess’ hand closed over hers, forcing her to hold onto it as the dragon dug into the flesh of her palm. Thalliya’s tail thrashed beneath her as tears stole her vision.
“It must feed on yer pain, my child.”
“It hurts!”
“It will pass.”
Crying out in agony, Thalliya tightened her fist around the comb. A large cloud of blood seeped from her hand. The dragon bit deep into her palm, chewing out a hole in the centre. And then it was inside her, moving up her arm.
Thalliya’s screams increased in pitch and volume as she watched it slither beneath her skin. Every length it traveled, it did so by chewing the muscle in its way. By the time it reached her shoulder, Thalliya was shivering with convulsions.
But the pain she had just experienced was nothing compared to the agony she felt now as it slid across her ribcage and into her heart.
Throwing her head back, Thalliya screamed again.
“Do it now!” Freya shouted as she pushed Thalliya’s hand towards her chest. The teeth of the comb scraped over her heart, but didn’t break the skin.
Shaking violently from the pain, Thalliya didn’t know if she could go through with it. It hurt so much already. She just wanted it to stop.
“Now, my child!”
She sobbed uncontrollably. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Closing her eyes, she wished she could find comfort in her mother’s arms.
But she never would.
Because they’d taken her from her. They’d taken everyone.
On a broken scream, Thalliya slammed the comb into her chest.
She gasped. Her heart jerked against the three teeth. Her eyes snapped open as she sagged forward in agony.
“Give it to me!”
Tightening her fist around the comb, Thalliya gritted her teeth and pulled. Tears flooded the sea. She stopped, unable to endure the pain.
But then the pounding in her ears was interrupted by another splash. And another and another until she was drowning in the sickening sound that would haunt her forever. Clenching her jaw, Thalliya took a deep breath.
And ripped her heart free.
The goddess took it without hesitation. A bright light flashed in front of her, but Thalliya was too weak to lift her head.
“Breathe, my child. The pain will be over soon.”
A warm hand touched her shoulder. The dragon inside her chest wriggled where her heart had lain. She clenched her teeth, expecting more pain. Startled, she looked up as a delicious heat spread through her entire body.
“Our deal is done.” The goddess smiled warmly. Then her eyes hardened as she grabbed Thalliya’s chin. “Never give yer heart to another,” she warned, “or I will take back what I have just given.”
Her lips trembling, Thalliya nodded. “Never,” she whispered. Her fists opened and then clenched again. She would not rest. She would never know love.
Not until every last man was dead.
November 18, 2020
Fuck Me It's the Apocalypse: Chpt 1
***This is really different from my usual stuff; I just want to write something fun and wacky as I'm going through a tough time atm. Hope you enjoy, but if not, don't worry; my usual work is still ongoing!***
Chapter One
"I Used To Be a Straight-A Student; I Used to Be Cool" - Marina
“Ah, fuck! I told you I wouldn’t be good at this post apocalyptic shit!”
“Just shut up and move!” Anthony ordered as he came careening past me. He scooped low, his vice-like fingers wrapping around my bicep. I cursed as he yanked me down the corridor before I could snatch up the bag I’d dropped. Instead of yelling at him though, I shouted a big ol’ thanks as I caught sight of what was behind us.
It would have taken me only two seconds to pick up my bag, but that would have been two seconds too long.
Fifteen ugly-ass, eroding zombies bumbled down the hallway, their arms outstretched. Their eyes vacant. But as much as Hollywood had constantly warned us that these uncoordinated morons were the real danger, they had nothing on the fungi now crawling out of the school vents.
Now I admit, that doesn’t sound very bad and I bet you’re laughing your ass off that we’re running away from a freaking plant.
But one, some fungi are actually carnivorous. Two, this one is super poisonous and can release spores into the air so you don’t even have to touch it in order to die an agonizing death. And three, I’ve seen an entire army base get consumed by this stuff in only a few hours. It’s not like any fungi you’ve seen before. It spreads more like a wildfire with a brain than anything else.
But hey, I get it. You still think it’s a freaking plant and nothing to worry about. I, and the rest of the world, thought so too at first. After all, when you’re trying to outrun a hoard of zombies, you tend to not notice the new green fuzz decorating your walls.
But that is a mistake. A really big, fucking mistake.
If you’re still not convinced though, just stick around for a while longer. I’m sure someone will die before my story is over. My hope’s on Wallace. He’s a fucking dick.
“Hey, dumbass,” an annoyingly hot man shouted as he joined us from another hallway. “How the fuck did you lose your bag this time?”
Shooting Wallace a glare, I begged my brain to come up with a good comeback. But honestly, what could I say? The backpack had two straps. Two! I had been so certain I could’ve kept a hold of at least one of them as I rummaged through it.
Oh? Just like you’d been so certain a grocery store would be a brilliant place to prepare for the apocalypse?
I scowled at myself. Why did I have to be so sarcastic? And why the hell did I have to constantly bring that up? I mean, okay, that had been a bad idea. I’d nearly gotten trampled to death and had to be saved by – shudder – Wallace. So wasn’t that bad enough? Couldn’t I just give myself a break already?
“Marina!”
Crap. That was Wallace’s annoyed voice. I must have missed something important.
Just as I was about to ask him to repeat himself, my foot slipped. Careening forward, I flailed wildly. My eyes grew to the size of saucers. I sucked in a terrified breath. Anthony shouted behind me and Wallace – Wallace, the absolute dickhead – laughed.
Without even any time to scream, I fell headfirst into a soft pile of green fuzz. The fungi crawled along my arms and legs. Acidic fire burned its way down to my bones. My skin was picked clean in seconds. My eyes were quickly consumed, but I could still see Wallace’s face in my mind. I could still hear his laughter.
For fuck’s sake, I thought to myself. My last thought ever. I was really hoping it’d be Wallace.
Chapter One
"I Used To Be a Straight-A Student; I Used to Be Cool" - Marina
“Ah, fuck! I told you I wouldn’t be good at this post apocalyptic shit!”
“Just shut up and move!” Anthony ordered as he came careening past me. He scooped low, his vice-like fingers wrapping around my bicep. I cursed as he yanked me down the corridor before I could snatch up the bag I’d dropped. Instead of yelling at him though, I shouted a big ol’ thanks as I caught sight of what was behind us.
It would have taken me only two seconds to pick up my bag, but that would have been two seconds too long.
Fifteen ugly-ass, eroding zombies bumbled down the hallway, their arms outstretched. Their eyes vacant. But as much as Hollywood had constantly warned us that these uncoordinated morons were the real danger, they had nothing on the fungi now crawling out of the school vents.
Now I admit, that doesn’t sound very bad and I bet you’re laughing your ass off that we’re running away from a freaking plant.
But one, some fungi are actually carnivorous. Two, this one is super poisonous and can release spores into the air so you don’t even have to touch it in order to die an agonizing death. And three, I’ve seen an entire army base get consumed by this stuff in only a few hours. It’s not like any fungi you’ve seen before. It spreads more like a wildfire with a brain than anything else.
But hey, I get it. You still think it’s a freaking plant and nothing to worry about. I, and the rest of the world, thought so too at first. After all, when you’re trying to outrun a hoard of zombies, you tend to not notice the new green fuzz decorating your walls.
But that is a mistake. A really big, fucking mistake.
If you’re still not convinced though, just stick around for a while longer. I’m sure someone will die before my story is over. My hope’s on Wallace. He’s a fucking dick.
“Hey, dumbass,” an annoyingly hot man shouted as he joined us from another hallway. “How the fuck did you lose your bag this time?”
Shooting Wallace a glare, I begged my brain to come up with a good comeback. But honestly, what could I say? The backpack had two straps. Two! I had been so certain I could’ve kept a hold of at least one of them as I rummaged through it.
Oh? Just like you’d been so certain a grocery store would be a brilliant place to prepare for the apocalypse?
I scowled at myself. Why did I have to be so sarcastic? And why the hell did I have to constantly bring that up? I mean, okay, that had been a bad idea. I’d nearly gotten trampled to death and had to be saved by – shudder – Wallace. So wasn’t that bad enough? Couldn’t I just give myself a break already?
“Marina!”
Crap. That was Wallace’s annoyed voice. I must have missed something important.
Just as I was about to ask him to repeat himself, my foot slipped. Careening forward, I flailed wildly. My eyes grew to the size of saucers. I sucked in a terrified breath. Anthony shouted behind me and Wallace – Wallace, the absolute dickhead – laughed.
Without even any time to scream, I fell headfirst into a soft pile of green fuzz. The fungi crawled along my arms and legs. Acidic fire burned its way down to my bones. My skin was picked clean in seconds. My eyes were quickly consumed, but I could still see Wallace’s face in my mind. I could still hear his laughter.
For fuck’s sake, I thought to myself. My last thought ever. I was really hoping it’d be Wallace.
June 26, 2020
Rage for Her - Chpt 1 (Full)
Rage for Her
*If you haven't yet read Tricked Into It, then be warned, there are spoilers below.
Chapter One
“The hell I am!”
Tegan slammed his glass on the table. The amber liquid splashed over the rim, but he barely felt it soak his hand; the fury inside him boiled too bright. It physically crawled beneath his skin, the slithering Rage a clear sign that he was seconds away from exploding.
Gripping the table’s edge, the berserker’s eyes flashed a dangerous red.
In two seconds, the room was going to get ripped apart. In six, he’d be going for his agents. And once they were down, there would be nothing to stop him from ravaging the city. He had to get control of himself. And fast.
The table splintered beneath his fingers.
“Look,” he growled into his earpiece. “I realize –”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Her voice was as lovely as silk as it flitted through his mind. It wrapped around his heart, all delicate and soft – right before baring its teeth with all the venom of a pissed off viper.
Swearing, Tegan released the table. With an ominous creak, it split in two, then crashed to the ground.
His lips pursed. His eyes narrowed. Fighting the urge to release the entirety of his anger, Tegan clenched his fists with a snarl.
“Dammit! I don’t have time –”
“You never have time!”
Tegan almost bit back that wasn’t true, but the denial lodged tight in his throat. Swearing in frustration, he stalked around his suite.
He glared at the stone walls that made up the castle. They were a dark gray, a perfect match to his current mood. In three hundred years, Tegan hadn’t lost control of his Rage outside of a fight, but just hearing Phoebe’s voice…
Just hearing what she wanted him to do…
The wall cracked beneath his fist.
To hell if he was going to comply.
“I have to go,” he snapped.
“Don’t you dare –”
Yanking the earpiece off him, Tegan tossed it on the table. He remembered too late that it was no longer there. Snarling, he snapped the phone back up and threw it at the far wall.
“Gods dammit!”
He hadn’t seen Phoebe for nearly twenty years.
He’d even fooled himself into believing he’d managed to put her behind him. Placed her in a forgotten box that he’d never have to deal with.
She was much safer that way.
He was much safer that way.
And since he was the head of the Elv’ve’Norc, an organization tasked with protecting the Seven Planes, all the fucking worlds were safer that way.
“Fuck!”
Picking up the chair, Tegan slammed it into a wall. The Rage clawed at his heart, demanding that he give in to his most primitive desires. He threw the remaining pieces of the chair at the other side of the room, then clenched his fists with a snarl.
Taking a deep breath, Tegan struggled to regain his control. But the stud in his ear demanded his attention, burning with the weight of its significance. He wanted to reach up and touch it, to find comfort in it like he always had. Only this time, he knew it wouldn’t bring any peace. Nothing would. Not after Phoebe had requested what she had.
Growling, Tegan exited his suite and stalked into the hall. The polished obsidian walls cast back his reflection, showing that the Berserker Rage still slithered beneath his skin.
It rippled across his broad shoulders, the very soul of temptation. There was nothing more addictive than listening to its call and feeling the power of the gods coursing through his veins. It made him feel unstoppable, invincible, and completely at peace – at least until he came back to his senses.
Then the truth of his destruction, the faces of the dead…
Eyes narrowing, Tegan glared at his reflection. Slowly, his tattooed flesh settled back to normal. The Rage inside him quieted to its normal pounding.
Striding towards the stairs, Tegan lowered his mental guard just enough for Galvanor, one of his telepathic agents, to notice.
Get everyone to the control room, Tegan commanded. He frowned when there wasn’t an immediate reply.
Galvanor had contracted the Duesychosis Plague a few days ago and it had nearly killed him. Only the man’s quick reactions had stopped the disease from sinking deep into his brain. The angels had cured him within a few hours, but that had still been long enough for the disease to greatly weaken him. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Galvanor had contracted it a second time in less than forty-eight hours. He’d slipped into a coma. It had taken him days to recover.
Galvanor had since assured him that he was fit enough to continue with the mission. And Tegan, wanting to keep the specifics of this operation as secret as possible, hadn’t pushed. But maybe he should. If Galvanor was struggling to even read his thoughts, then it was time to –
Tegan slammed into the wall as a monstrous roar ripped through his skull. His head split open in a blinding migraine and he punched the cold stone to combat the pain.
Clenching his teeth, Tegan growled past the sheer agony in his mind. He ignored the blood dripping from his nose. Drawing on his power, he then shoved himself upright and took a heavy step forward.
Galvanor! he snapped.
The energy that took, the pain it caused, almost made him collapse back against the wall. Control yourself! he shouted as he stalked down the hall.
He’d barely passed the room next to his when a roar and a crash sounded from inside it. A moment later, the door flew across the hall, quickly followed by the body of an enraged demon. The beast hit the wall, smashing out chunks of stone. As Pyro crumbled to the ground, a growl erupted deep from his throat.
Tegan snapped his head to the doorway. His Rage boiled to the surface in preparation for a fight. Even the strongest of beasts would hesitate to cross a berserker in full power.
But the man in the doorway wasn’t phased. Gabriel stepped into the hall, his hands down at his sides in complete relaxation. His pitch black hair fell in front of his eyes and with a single toss of his head, he put it back in place. Power rippled from him with the energy of an alpha. Even Pyro, the reckless demon whom Gabriel had just tossed through the air, didn’t dare retaliate.
Glowering, Tegan forced his Rage back down.
“You’re needed upstairs,” Gabriel said nonchalantly. His large black wings ruffled behind him as he turned down the hall. It was a clear dismissal, a warning that they should go quickly despite any questions.
Clenching his teeth, Tegan turned to Pyro. Before he could say anything, another scream ripped through his head. His growl of frustration was lost beneath the roar’s ferocity.
Galvanor!
But then Tegan realized his folly. The sound wasn’t coming from inside his head this time.
The castle walls shook. Dust dropped from the ceiling. Another roar echoed through the hall, coming from the floor above.
They were under attack.
Pyro’s gaze crashed with his. Moving as one, the two jumped into action, rushing towards the stairs. Both of their beasts crawled beneath the surface, but only Pyro changed forms as they ran.
His horns elongated. His bulk increased. Each footfall echoed with his anger. When he yanked the stairwell door open, he accidentally ripped it from its hinges. Tossing it behind him with a growl, Pyro rushed inside, taking the stairs four at a time.
Tegan was quick behind him. His skin rippled with his Rage, but there was a danger to pulling on its power. A Berserker’s Rage did not always stop when the threat was over nor did it always discern friend from foe. To use it could destroy more than it saved.
A haunted memory started to rise. Tegan promptly squashed it.
Galvanor, report, he commanded. Although he’d find out for himself in a few seconds when he burst onto the next floor, Tegan didn’t like going in blind. If there was something he needed to react to immediately upon entry, he’d prefer to be prepared.
There’s a – Matakyli, no!
Tegan crashed to the ground. Pyro screamed as he fell through the door. Galvanor’s power was out of control, ripping through their minds like acid.
Gritting his teeth, Tegan pulled himself up the stairs. Blood dripped from his ears. A single red tear ran down his cheek. When he got to Pyro’s limp form, he scanned the room for the threat, but he needn’t have bothered.
Standing in the middle of the living room, its back brushing the ceiling, was a monstrous wolf. Its fur was made up of smoke and embers. Its red eyes glinted in a dangerous challenge. Blood soaked its mouth, dripping from canines which were fully bared.
Limp against the wall, her body torn and unmoving, was Matakyli. Galvanor crouched protectively over her, his face twisted in agony. Lowering its head, its black fur rising, the thing let loose a terrible growl.
Tegan rushed forward to meet it. He ran a hand down his bare arm, tracing the intricate tattoo that covered him from his shoulder to his wrist. As soon as his fingers glided off his skin, a ten foot claymore appeared in his hand; the tattoo now gone. The sword sang with power, its hilt embedded with the magic of his people.
The wolf focused on the blade in an instant, a growl erupting deep in its chest. Familiarity flashed in its eyes at the weapon, causing Tegan to bellow in anger.
There was only one species that wielded blades like his – and Tegan’s family was it. They were the only berserkers, the only ones with tattooed swords on their bodies. If the beast had harmed any of his sisters…
With a warrior’s cry, Tegan swung the claymore at the wolf’s head. One cut was all it would take to cleave through anything, regardless of how thick or strong.
Snarling, the wolf dodged with an uncanny speed. It countered even faster, its teeth sinking into Tegan’s arm before he could so much as blink. Jerking him off the ground, the wolf tossed him through the air.
Tegan dropped his sword before he crashed down the stairs and impaled himself on it. The tattoo etched itself onto his mangled arm. As soon as he hit the ground and regained his feet, he pulled the claymore back off his skin.
He lunged through the broken door, sword leading,
only to quickly dive to the ground. Pyro sailed above him, barely missing taking him down with him.
Jumping to his feet, Tegan’s eyes narrowed. The beast was no longer facing him. A knife was stuck in one of its hind legs, thrown by one of the many people that had now arrived on scene. The dagger looked more like a needle in a pincushion than anything damaging though, but it had done its job. The wolf was no longer focused on him. Now all Tegan had to do was sneak up on it and he could kill it in one fell swoop.
Ignoring the cries of his agents as they fought off the creature’s snapping jaws, Tegan inched forward.
Where is she? the beast roared.
Tegan froze as the demand ripped through his brain. He knew that voice, the one coming from the wolf. And unfortunately, as much as he wanted to rip the man a new asshole, he wasn’t about to kill one of his best agents. Not without knowing why he had attacked them in the first place.
Still, Tegan didn’t sheath his sword. And he didn’t stay frozen for long, inching forward once more.
Jack? Galvanor asked slowly. He’d opened his mind a little, letting everyone listen, but no one speak. Can you hear me?
Tell me where she is, Jack growled.
Who?
My mate.
Tegan’s grip on his sword tightened. If Galvanor didn’t know where Charlie, Jack’s mate, was, then all hell was about to break loose.
After a strained silence, Galvanor confirmed his fears.
She’s not in the castle and I’m not strong enough yet to find her.
You would have heard her thoughts.
Jack growled. Tegan raised his sword.
Where did she go?
I’m still recovering, Galvanor said. I haven’t been able to listen –
You lie!
Tegan swung, aiming for a leg. The attack would cut it clean off, but it wouldn’t be lethal. With luck, the pain would distract Jack enough that they could bring him down.
But the plan was all for nothing.
The blade missed, swinging through a cloud of smoke and ash. Tegan’s eyes widened as the wolf became an ethereal form. Jack was a trickster, capable of physically mimicking various species, but the one thing he couldn’t do was take on new powers. No trickster could.
No mortal could.
Tegan’s heart rate sped up. But if Jack wasn’t a mortal, then why wasn’t Gabriel up here? As an archangel it was Gabriel’s duty to police the gods.
Before another thought could form, Tegan pivoted to avoid snapping teeth. Claws slashed towards his neck and he met them with his sword. Relief swamped him when the paw went flying, severed as if Tegan had been cutting butter.
Whatever Jack was, they could still fight him. They could still bring him to his knees.
Pivoting, Tegan went in for another swing. The blade sliced through a cloud of embers. Before he could shift his direction, a paw slammed into the side of him. The sword went flying. His tattoo reappeared on his arm as the blade vanished into thin air.
Tucking fluidly, Tegan rolled into the fall. He ended back up on the balls of his feet, sword in his hand. His mangled arm bled profusely. His head pounded with a killer migraine. His chest ached from broken ribs.
Ignoring the pain, his eyes narrowed on Jack. The wolf seemed to be smiling as it lifted a paw to show its claws. Tegan’s eyes widened. That was the same limb he’d hacked into; the one whose paw he’d just severed. For Jack to regenerate a whole new part that quickly…
Racking his claws across the ground, the wolf lunged. Tegan raced towards it with a yell. He dove onto his knees as Jack’s teeth ripped through the air where he’d just been. Sliding between its legs, Tegan lifted his sword and sliced clean through the wolf’s chest. He’d barely cut more than a foot deep before he was engulfed in a cloud of smoke.
A snarl warned him too late that Jack had reappeared in front of him. Bloody teeth filled Tegan’s vision. He couldn’t stop his slide. The Rage crawled beneath his skin, ready to erupt in a show of glory in order to save his life.
Before Tegan could embrace the Rage, a spout of water whipped past his head. It slammed down Jack’s throat, causing him to snap his jowls shut before he could swallow Tegan whole.
Jumping to his feet, the berserker aimed another swing. Rogan aided his attack this time, shooting water at the beast’s eyes and mouth so it couldn’t fight back. Kasem and Kaide, two teleporting swordsmen, appeared beside him. They vanished just as quickly, phasing in and out just long enough to slice at Jack in a tornado of blades.
Together, the seven of them worked as one. Adriel attacked from the front with Aisla, their blades and arrows tearing into Jack’s flesh in a thousand cuts. Pyro, having stormed back up the stairs, now had demon fire pouring out of his palms. The two swordsmen phased high and low, left and right, never lingering long enough to be attacked.
Tegan ducked as a fireball singed his hair. It flew through the cloud of smoke and exited the other end. Aisla barely managed to dodge out of its way, but by avoiding the fire, she’d stepped right into the line of razor sharp claws.
Her scream ruptured the air. A demon’s bellow soon followed. As Jack jumped on top of Adriel, Tegan’s eyes narrowed. If they didn’t finish this soon, they wouldn’t be able to.
As if sharing his thoughts, Xeno arrived on scene with her hands burning in a holy light.
Get back, now!
Galvanor’s command screamed in their heads. All but the two drazic demons obeyed in an instant. When Xeno hesitated because Pyro stepped into her line of vision, Tegan tackled the demon to the ground. Xeno might be weakened due to her fall, but her light could still burn the soul of a demon. It could still kill one that was already on the verge of collapse.
As they fell to the ground, Pyro went to elbow Tegan in the face. His attack floundered as a blinding beam stole his vision.
Prepared for it, Tegan had already closed his eyes. He tucked his head to protect them further. As soon as the light faded, he jumped to his feet and rushed Jack with his sword.
The way was clear. Jack was momentarily blind. It should have been a done deal with Tegan’s blade ending the fight in one fell swoop.
But right as he began his swing, a powerful energy slammed into his chest. He was hurled back, his arms and legs leveling out in front of him. His sword flew wide. A man screamed. And then Tegan crashed through a wall, his temple slamming against the rubble.
Searing pain exploded inside his skull. The world went dark. Instantly, the Rage jumped to the surface, bringing him back to sharp awareness.
With a feral growl, Tegan’s eyes snapped open. They glowed a bright red, the color of blood, the color soon to paint these walls. Pushing himself into a sitting position, the berserker shoved his dislocated shoulder back into its socket. He stood, unsheathed his sword, and kicked through the crumbling wall with a warrior’s yell.
The wolf’s head snapped towards him. Jack growled low, his fur on end, but he didn’t move. For standing in the middle of the storm, one hand holding his paw in mid air, was what looked like a child ballerina.
She was dressed in a bright blue tutu, baggy unicorn leggings, and knee high boots. A crop top shirt hung from her shoulders, creased by the elastic bands of her angelic costume. Glittery fabric wings hung limply on her back, an odd contrast to the real ones, leathery and red, peaking above her head.
Lost in his Rage, Tegan didn’t register her identity. With a bellow he rushed forward. The ballerina turned to face him. A sincere smile lit her face. Digging a blade out from between her boobs, she tossed it at his face.
He leaned his head to the side, felt the knife whistle past his ear. A sneer of triumph curled his lips. Two steps later though and it was gone.
As a deafening crack split the air, dust rained down on him like hail. He threw his arms up automatically. Tried to dodge out of the way. But as he did so, a piece of loose obsidian slid out from under him. And as the ceiling crashed down upon him, Tegan’s roar was lost beneath the rubble.
*If you haven't yet read Tricked Into It, then be warned, there are spoilers below.
Chapter One
“The hell I am!”
Tegan slammed his glass on the table. The amber liquid splashed over the rim, but he barely felt it soak his hand; the fury inside him boiled too bright. It physically crawled beneath his skin, the slithering Rage a clear sign that he was seconds away from exploding.
Gripping the table’s edge, the berserker’s eyes flashed a dangerous red.
In two seconds, the room was going to get ripped apart. In six, he’d be going for his agents. And once they were down, there would be nothing to stop him from ravaging the city. He had to get control of himself. And fast.
The table splintered beneath his fingers.
“Look,” he growled into his earpiece. “I realize –”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Her voice was as lovely as silk as it flitted through his mind. It wrapped around his heart, all delicate and soft – right before baring its teeth with all the venom of a pissed off viper.
Swearing, Tegan released the table. With an ominous creak, it split in two, then crashed to the ground.
His lips pursed. His eyes narrowed. Fighting the urge to release the entirety of his anger, Tegan clenched his fists with a snarl.
“Dammit! I don’t have time –”
“You never have time!”
Tegan almost bit back that wasn’t true, but the denial lodged tight in his throat. Swearing in frustration, he stalked around his suite.
He glared at the stone walls that made up the castle. They were a dark gray, a perfect match to his current mood. In three hundred years, Tegan hadn’t lost control of his Rage outside of a fight, but just hearing Phoebe’s voice…
Just hearing what she wanted him to do…
The wall cracked beneath his fist.
To hell if he was going to comply.
“I have to go,” he snapped.
“Don’t you dare –”
Yanking the earpiece off him, Tegan tossed it on the table. He remembered too late that it was no longer there. Snarling, he snapped the phone back up and threw it at the far wall.
“Gods dammit!”
He hadn’t seen Phoebe for nearly twenty years.
He’d even fooled himself into believing he’d managed to put her behind him. Placed her in a forgotten box that he’d never have to deal with.
She was much safer that way.
He was much safer that way.
And since he was the head of the Elv’ve’Norc, an organization tasked with protecting the Seven Planes, all the fucking worlds were safer that way.
“Fuck!”
Picking up the chair, Tegan slammed it into a wall. The Rage clawed at his heart, demanding that he give in to his most primitive desires. He threw the remaining pieces of the chair at the other side of the room, then clenched his fists with a snarl.
Taking a deep breath, Tegan struggled to regain his control. But the stud in his ear demanded his attention, burning with the weight of its significance. He wanted to reach up and touch it, to find comfort in it like he always had. Only this time, he knew it wouldn’t bring any peace. Nothing would. Not after Phoebe had requested what she had.
Growling, Tegan exited his suite and stalked into the hall. The polished obsidian walls cast back his reflection, showing that the Berserker Rage still slithered beneath his skin.
It rippled across his broad shoulders, the very soul of temptation. There was nothing more addictive than listening to its call and feeling the power of the gods coursing through his veins. It made him feel unstoppable, invincible, and completely at peace – at least until he came back to his senses.
Then the truth of his destruction, the faces of the dead…
Eyes narrowing, Tegan glared at his reflection. Slowly, his tattooed flesh settled back to normal. The Rage inside him quieted to its normal pounding.
Striding towards the stairs, Tegan lowered his mental guard just enough for Galvanor, one of his telepathic agents, to notice.
Get everyone to the control room, Tegan commanded. He frowned when there wasn’t an immediate reply.
Galvanor had contracted the Duesychosis Plague a few days ago and it had nearly killed him. Only the man’s quick reactions had stopped the disease from sinking deep into his brain. The angels had cured him within a few hours, but that had still been long enough for the disease to greatly weaken him. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Galvanor had contracted it a second time in less than forty-eight hours. He’d slipped into a coma. It had taken him days to recover.
Galvanor had since assured him that he was fit enough to continue with the mission. And Tegan, wanting to keep the specifics of this operation as secret as possible, hadn’t pushed. But maybe he should. If Galvanor was struggling to even read his thoughts, then it was time to –
Tegan slammed into the wall as a monstrous roar ripped through his skull. His head split open in a blinding migraine and he punched the cold stone to combat the pain.
Clenching his teeth, Tegan growled past the sheer agony in his mind. He ignored the blood dripping from his nose. Drawing on his power, he then shoved himself upright and took a heavy step forward.
Galvanor! he snapped.
The energy that took, the pain it caused, almost made him collapse back against the wall. Control yourself! he shouted as he stalked down the hall.
He’d barely passed the room next to his when a roar and a crash sounded from inside it. A moment later, the door flew across the hall, quickly followed by the body of an enraged demon. The beast hit the wall, smashing out chunks of stone. As Pyro crumbled to the ground, a growl erupted deep from his throat.
Tegan snapped his head to the doorway. His Rage boiled to the surface in preparation for a fight. Even the strongest of beasts would hesitate to cross a berserker in full power.
But the man in the doorway wasn’t phased. Gabriel stepped into the hall, his hands down at his sides in complete relaxation. His pitch black hair fell in front of his eyes and with a single toss of his head, he put it back in place. Power rippled from him with the energy of an alpha. Even Pyro, the reckless demon whom Gabriel had just tossed through the air, didn’t dare retaliate.
Glowering, Tegan forced his Rage back down.
“You’re needed upstairs,” Gabriel said nonchalantly. His large black wings ruffled behind him as he turned down the hall. It was a clear dismissal, a warning that they should go quickly despite any questions.
Clenching his teeth, Tegan turned to Pyro. Before he could say anything, another scream ripped through his head. His growl of frustration was lost beneath the roar’s ferocity.
Galvanor!
But then Tegan realized his folly. The sound wasn’t coming from inside his head this time.
The castle walls shook. Dust dropped from the ceiling. Another roar echoed through the hall, coming from the floor above.
They were under attack.
Pyro’s gaze crashed with his. Moving as one, the two jumped into action, rushing towards the stairs. Both of their beasts crawled beneath the surface, but only Pyro changed forms as they ran.
His horns elongated. His bulk increased. Each footfall echoed with his anger. When he yanked the stairwell door open, he accidentally ripped it from its hinges. Tossing it behind him with a growl, Pyro rushed inside, taking the stairs four at a time.
Tegan was quick behind him. His skin rippled with his Rage, but there was a danger to pulling on its power. A Berserker’s Rage did not always stop when the threat was over nor did it always discern friend from foe. To use it could destroy more than it saved.
A haunted memory started to rise. Tegan promptly squashed it.
Galvanor, report, he commanded. Although he’d find out for himself in a few seconds when he burst onto the next floor, Tegan didn’t like going in blind. If there was something he needed to react to immediately upon entry, he’d prefer to be prepared.
There’s a – Matakyli, no!
Tegan crashed to the ground. Pyro screamed as he fell through the door. Galvanor’s power was out of control, ripping through their minds like acid.
Gritting his teeth, Tegan pulled himself up the stairs. Blood dripped from his ears. A single red tear ran down his cheek. When he got to Pyro’s limp form, he scanned the room for the threat, but he needn’t have bothered.
Standing in the middle of the living room, its back brushing the ceiling, was a monstrous wolf. Its fur was made up of smoke and embers. Its red eyes glinted in a dangerous challenge. Blood soaked its mouth, dripping from canines which were fully bared.
Limp against the wall, her body torn and unmoving, was Matakyli. Galvanor crouched protectively over her, his face twisted in agony. Lowering its head, its black fur rising, the thing let loose a terrible growl.
Tegan rushed forward to meet it. He ran a hand down his bare arm, tracing the intricate tattoo that covered him from his shoulder to his wrist. As soon as his fingers glided off his skin, a ten foot claymore appeared in his hand; the tattoo now gone. The sword sang with power, its hilt embedded with the magic of his people.
The wolf focused on the blade in an instant, a growl erupting deep in its chest. Familiarity flashed in its eyes at the weapon, causing Tegan to bellow in anger.
There was only one species that wielded blades like his – and Tegan’s family was it. They were the only berserkers, the only ones with tattooed swords on their bodies. If the beast had harmed any of his sisters…
With a warrior’s cry, Tegan swung the claymore at the wolf’s head. One cut was all it would take to cleave through anything, regardless of how thick or strong.
Snarling, the wolf dodged with an uncanny speed. It countered even faster, its teeth sinking into Tegan’s arm before he could so much as blink. Jerking him off the ground, the wolf tossed him through the air.
Tegan dropped his sword before he crashed down the stairs and impaled himself on it. The tattoo etched itself onto his mangled arm. As soon as he hit the ground and regained his feet, he pulled the claymore back off his skin.
He lunged through the broken door, sword leading,
only to quickly dive to the ground. Pyro sailed above him, barely missing taking him down with him.
Jumping to his feet, Tegan’s eyes narrowed. The beast was no longer facing him. A knife was stuck in one of its hind legs, thrown by one of the many people that had now arrived on scene. The dagger looked more like a needle in a pincushion than anything damaging though, but it had done its job. The wolf was no longer focused on him. Now all Tegan had to do was sneak up on it and he could kill it in one fell swoop.
Ignoring the cries of his agents as they fought off the creature’s snapping jaws, Tegan inched forward.
Where is she? the beast roared.
Tegan froze as the demand ripped through his brain. He knew that voice, the one coming from the wolf. And unfortunately, as much as he wanted to rip the man a new asshole, he wasn’t about to kill one of his best agents. Not without knowing why he had attacked them in the first place.
Still, Tegan didn’t sheath his sword. And he didn’t stay frozen for long, inching forward once more.
Jack? Galvanor asked slowly. He’d opened his mind a little, letting everyone listen, but no one speak. Can you hear me?
Tell me where she is, Jack growled.
Who?
My mate.
Tegan’s grip on his sword tightened. If Galvanor didn’t know where Charlie, Jack’s mate, was, then all hell was about to break loose.
After a strained silence, Galvanor confirmed his fears.
She’s not in the castle and I’m not strong enough yet to find her.
You would have heard her thoughts.
Jack growled. Tegan raised his sword.
Where did she go?
I’m still recovering, Galvanor said. I haven’t been able to listen –
You lie!
Tegan swung, aiming for a leg. The attack would cut it clean off, but it wouldn’t be lethal. With luck, the pain would distract Jack enough that they could bring him down.
But the plan was all for nothing.
The blade missed, swinging through a cloud of smoke and ash. Tegan’s eyes widened as the wolf became an ethereal form. Jack was a trickster, capable of physically mimicking various species, but the one thing he couldn’t do was take on new powers. No trickster could.
No mortal could.
Tegan’s heart rate sped up. But if Jack wasn’t a mortal, then why wasn’t Gabriel up here? As an archangel it was Gabriel’s duty to police the gods.
Before another thought could form, Tegan pivoted to avoid snapping teeth. Claws slashed towards his neck and he met them with his sword. Relief swamped him when the paw went flying, severed as if Tegan had been cutting butter.
Whatever Jack was, they could still fight him. They could still bring him to his knees.
Pivoting, Tegan went in for another swing. The blade sliced through a cloud of embers. Before he could shift his direction, a paw slammed into the side of him. The sword went flying. His tattoo reappeared on his arm as the blade vanished into thin air.
Tucking fluidly, Tegan rolled into the fall. He ended back up on the balls of his feet, sword in his hand. His mangled arm bled profusely. His head pounded with a killer migraine. His chest ached from broken ribs.
Ignoring the pain, his eyes narrowed on Jack. The wolf seemed to be smiling as it lifted a paw to show its claws. Tegan’s eyes widened. That was the same limb he’d hacked into; the one whose paw he’d just severed. For Jack to regenerate a whole new part that quickly…
Racking his claws across the ground, the wolf lunged. Tegan raced towards it with a yell. He dove onto his knees as Jack’s teeth ripped through the air where he’d just been. Sliding between its legs, Tegan lifted his sword and sliced clean through the wolf’s chest. He’d barely cut more than a foot deep before he was engulfed in a cloud of smoke.
A snarl warned him too late that Jack had reappeared in front of him. Bloody teeth filled Tegan’s vision. He couldn’t stop his slide. The Rage crawled beneath his skin, ready to erupt in a show of glory in order to save his life.
Before Tegan could embrace the Rage, a spout of water whipped past his head. It slammed down Jack’s throat, causing him to snap his jowls shut before he could swallow Tegan whole.
Jumping to his feet, the berserker aimed another swing. Rogan aided his attack this time, shooting water at the beast’s eyes and mouth so it couldn’t fight back. Kasem and Kaide, two teleporting swordsmen, appeared beside him. They vanished just as quickly, phasing in and out just long enough to slice at Jack in a tornado of blades.
Together, the seven of them worked as one. Adriel attacked from the front with Aisla, their blades and arrows tearing into Jack’s flesh in a thousand cuts. Pyro, having stormed back up the stairs, now had demon fire pouring out of his palms. The two swordsmen phased high and low, left and right, never lingering long enough to be attacked.
Tegan ducked as a fireball singed his hair. It flew through the cloud of smoke and exited the other end. Aisla barely managed to dodge out of its way, but by avoiding the fire, she’d stepped right into the line of razor sharp claws.
Her scream ruptured the air. A demon’s bellow soon followed. As Jack jumped on top of Adriel, Tegan’s eyes narrowed. If they didn’t finish this soon, they wouldn’t be able to.
As if sharing his thoughts, Xeno arrived on scene with her hands burning in a holy light.
Get back, now!
Galvanor’s command screamed in their heads. All but the two drazic demons obeyed in an instant. When Xeno hesitated because Pyro stepped into her line of vision, Tegan tackled the demon to the ground. Xeno might be weakened due to her fall, but her light could still burn the soul of a demon. It could still kill one that was already on the verge of collapse.
As they fell to the ground, Pyro went to elbow Tegan in the face. His attack floundered as a blinding beam stole his vision.
Prepared for it, Tegan had already closed his eyes. He tucked his head to protect them further. As soon as the light faded, he jumped to his feet and rushed Jack with his sword.
The way was clear. Jack was momentarily blind. It should have been a done deal with Tegan’s blade ending the fight in one fell swoop.
But right as he began his swing, a powerful energy slammed into his chest. He was hurled back, his arms and legs leveling out in front of him. His sword flew wide. A man screamed. And then Tegan crashed through a wall, his temple slamming against the rubble.
Searing pain exploded inside his skull. The world went dark. Instantly, the Rage jumped to the surface, bringing him back to sharp awareness.
With a feral growl, Tegan’s eyes snapped open. They glowed a bright red, the color of blood, the color soon to paint these walls. Pushing himself into a sitting position, the berserker shoved his dislocated shoulder back into its socket. He stood, unsheathed his sword, and kicked through the crumbling wall with a warrior’s yell.
The wolf’s head snapped towards him. Jack growled low, his fur on end, but he didn’t move. For standing in the middle of the storm, one hand holding his paw in mid air, was what looked like a child ballerina.
She was dressed in a bright blue tutu, baggy unicorn leggings, and knee high boots. A crop top shirt hung from her shoulders, creased by the elastic bands of her angelic costume. Glittery fabric wings hung limply on her back, an odd contrast to the real ones, leathery and red, peaking above her head.
Lost in his Rage, Tegan didn’t register her identity. With a bellow he rushed forward. The ballerina turned to face him. A sincere smile lit her face. Digging a blade out from between her boobs, she tossed it at his face.
He leaned his head to the side, felt the knife whistle past his ear. A sneer of triumph curled his lips. Two steps later though and it was gone.
As a deafening crack split the air, dust rained down on him like hail. He threw his arms up automatically. Tried to dodge out of the way. But as he did so, a piece of loose obsidian slid out from under him. And as the ceiling crashed down upon him, Tegan’s roar was lost beneath the rubble.
June 3, 2020
Burn Baby Burn: A Dark Retelling of Cinderella
EVERYTHING IS ABOUT TO BURN
We all know the story. Cinderella's father remarries. She gets a shitty new family. He dies in a tragic accident and she is forced into a life of servitude.
But what happens when Ella meets a dark fae who tempts her to embrace the darkness in her heart? When he shows her the fire she was born with and coaxes those powers to light? What happens when he tells her that she doesn't need a prince. She needs a crown...
The world will burn.
Preorder now
Prologue
"By the gods, woman! I’m not blind! I can see that she’s not mine!” King Rekzor roared, pointing furiously at the babe in his wife’s arms. “That, that thing is an abomination!”
Crimson eyes flashing, Queen Ignis met his fury with the blaze of her own. “Abomination or not, she is our daughter!” The ‘our’ was stressed so fiercely that Rekzor could only stare in gaping silence.
How could she be dumb enough to think that he would believe her? The evidence of her infidelity was staring him right in the face! No child of his would have blue eyes. He was a fire elementalist, born into one of the oldest clans. Red eyes had been dominant in his family for millennia – as they had been in his wife’s line! For the babe to have blue eyes, the bitch must have cheated.
Rekzor growled. He had half the mind to strangle her before she could regain her strength. But the other half, blast it, was still madly in love with her. Even when faced with solid proof, the King couldn’t bring himself to punish his queen. Gods knew why; she fucking deserved it.
Snarling, he shook his head in disgust and turned away. He couldn’t look at them for a moment longer. Her eyes pleaded with him, while the baby’s called him a fool.
Stalking to the door, Rekzor addressed not his queen, but the midwife.
“There was no birth here, tonight,” he snapped. “Do you understand? Our baby was born without breath.”
“Rekzor!” Queen Ignis shouted.
Turning, he created a ball of fire in his hand. His eyes were as dark as his soul, expressing the depth of his anger. “Shall I burn it now? Shall I toss this ball at its head!”
He was spitting with fury. His heart was breaking. He hated that fucking babe.
And yet, his wife had the audacity to pull the bastard tighter to her chest. “You will do no such thing! She is our daughter!”
“She is no daughter of mine!” The fireball got hotter, brighter. It twisted with his pain, fed on the anger boiling inside him. “She has blue eyes!” he roared. “She will have the power of water – an ability neither of us has!”
“I did not sleep with a water elementalist!” Queen Ignis’ entire body flushed, her skin burning with the force of her own rage. She was one of the very few fire elementalists with the ability to turn her whole body into a weapon. Most, like he, could only control it through their hands.
“Do not lie to me!” If he threw the ball, Ignis wouldn’t be hurt. The babe would though. It would cook alive, not yet old enough to smother its flames. Oh gods, was he tempted.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled. The baby started to cry, the room getting too hot for its fragile flesh.
King Rekzor sneered in disgust. Still, he could not bring himself to kill the babe. Ignis would never forgive him.
He sucked in a harsh breath at that, wanting so much to scream. She should be the one begging for his forgiveness. She was the one that had robbed him of an heir by sleeping with a fucking water elementalist! She was the one who had broken his trust, who had broken his heart.
Shaking his head, he closed his fist. The flames snuffed out as if they’d never been. “Get rid of it tonight,” the King ordered. “Or I swear upon Hades’ last breath, I will burn the bastard alive.”
Not waiting for an answer, Rekzor stalked into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him. He waited until he’d rounded the corner before dropping to his knees. With a heart-wrenching scream, he threw his arms out wide. Fire erupted from his palms, licking down the hall in testament to his anger and pain.
He didn’t stop until he heard it – the solemn tolling of bells. Breathing deeply, he then dropped his arms to his sides. Fire no longer poured from his palms, no longer screamed of his agony. For the bells had a message, the most beautiful message of them all: the bastard was dead.
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We all know the story. Cinderella's father remarries. She gets a shitty new family. He dies in a tragic accident and she is forced into a life of servitude.
But what happens when Ella meets a dark fae who tempts her to embrace the darkness in her heart? When he shows her the fire she was born with and coaxes those powers to light? What happens when he tells her that she doesn't need a prince. She needs a crown...
The world will burn.
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Prologue
"By the gods, woman! I’m not blind! I can see that she’s not mine!” King Rekzor roared, pointing furiously at the babe in his wife’s arms. “That, that thing is an abomination!”
Crimson eyes flashing, Queen Ignis met his fury with the blaze of her own. “Abomination or not, she is our daughter!” The ‘our’ was stressed so fiercely that Rekzor could only stare in gaping silence.
How could she be dumb enough to think that he would believe her? The evidence of her infidelity was staring him right in the face! No child of his would have blue eyes. He was a fire elementalist, born into one of the oldest clans. Red eyes had been dominant in his family for millennia – as they had been in his wife’s line! For the babe to have blue eyes, the bitch must have cheated.
Rekzor growled. He had half the mind to strangle her before she could regain her strength. But the other half, blast it, was still madly in love with her. Even when faced with solid proof, the King couldn’t bring himself to punish his queen. Gods knew why; she fucking deserved it.
Snarling, he shook his head in disgust and turned away. He couldn’t look at them for a moment longer. Her eyes pleaded with him, while the baby’s called him a fool.
Stalking to the door, Rekzor addressed not his queen, but the midwife.
“There was no birth here, tonight,” he snapped. “Do you understand? Our baby was born without breath.”
“Rekzor!” Queen Ignis shouted.
Turning, he created a ball of fire in his hand. His eyes were as dark as his soul, expressing the depth of his anger. “Shall I burn it now? Shall I toss this ball at its head!”
He was spitting with fury. His heart was breaking. He hated that fucking babe.
And yet, his wife had the audacity to pull the bastard tighter to her chest. “You will do no such thing! She is our daughter!”
“She is no daughter of mine!” The fireball got hotter, brighter. It twisted with his pain, fed on the anger boiling inside him. “She has blue eyes!” he roared. “She will have the power of water – an ability neither of us has!”
“I did not sleep with a water elementalist!” Queen Ignis’ entire body flushed, her skin burning with the force of her own rage. She was one of the very few fire elementalists with the ability to turn her whole body into a weapon. Most, like he, could only control it through their hands.
“Do not lie to me!” If he threw the ball, Ignis wouldn’t be hurt. The babe would though. It would cook alive, not yet old enough to smother its flames. Oh gods, was he tempted.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled. The baby started to cry, the room getting too hot for its fragile flesh.
King Rekzor sneered in disgust. Still, he could not bring himself to kill the babe. Ignis would never forgive him.
He sucked in a harsh breath at that, wanting so much to scream. She should be the one begging for his forgiveness. She was the one that had robbed him of an heir by sleeping with a fucking water elementalist! She was the one who had broken his trust, who had broken his heart.
Shaking his head, he closed his fist. The flames snuffed out as if they’d never been. “Get rid of it tonight,” the King ordered. “Or I swear upon Hades’ last breath, I will burn the bastard alive.”
Not waiting for an answer, Rekzor stalked into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him. He waited until he’d rounded the corner before dropping to his knees. With a heart-wrenching scream, he threw his arms out wide. Fire erupted from his palms, licking down the hall in testament to his anger and pain.
He didn’t stop until he heard it – the solemn tolling of bells. Breathing deeply, he then dropped his arms to his sides. Fire no longer poured from his palms, no longer screamed of his agony. For the bells had a message, the most beautiful message of them all: the bastard was dead.
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May 23, 2020
Rage for Her - Chpt 1 (Excerpt 1)
“The hell I am!”
Tegan slammed his glass on the table. The amber liquid splashed over the rim, but he barely felt it soak his hand; the fury inside him boiled too bright. It physically crawled beneath his skin, the slithering Rage a clear sign that he was seconds away from exploding.
Gripping the table’s edge, the berserker’s eyes flashed a dangerous red.
In two seconds, the room was going to get ripped apart. In six, he’d be going for his agents. And once they were down, there would be nothing to stop him from ravaging the city. He had to get control of himself. And fast.
The table splintered beneath his fingers.
“Look,” he growled into his earpiece. “I realize –”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Her voice was as lovely as silk as it flitted through his mind. It wrapped around his heart, all delicate and soft – right before baring its teeth with all the venom of a pissed off viper.
Swearing, Tegan released the table. With an ominous creak, it split in two, then crashed to the ground.
His lips pursed. His eyes narrowed. Fighting the urge to release the entirety of his anger, Tegan clenched his fists with a snarl.
“Dammit! I don’t have time –”
“You never have time!”
Tegan almost bit back that wasn’t true, but the denial lodged tight in his throat. Swearing in frustration, he stalked to the other side of his room.
He glared at the stone walls that made up the castle. They were a dark gray, a perfect match to his current mood. In three hundred years, Tegan hadn’t lost control of his Rage outside of a fight, but just hearing Phoebe’s voice…
Just hearing what she wanted him to do…
The wall cracked beneath his fist.
To hell if he was going to comply.
“I have to go,” he snapped.
“Don’t you dare –”
Yanking the earpiece off him, Tegan tossed it on the table. He remembered too late that it was no longer there. Snarling, he snapped the phone back up and threw it at the couch.
“Gods dammit!”
He hadn’t seen Phoebe for nearly twenty years. He’d even fooled himself into believing he’d managed to put her behind him. Placed her in a forgotten box that he’d never have to deal with.
She was much safer that way.
He was much safer that way.
And since he was the head of the Elv’ve’Norc, an organization tasked with protecting the Seven Planes, all the fucking worlds were safer that way.
“Fuck!”
Tegan slammed his glass on the table. The amber liquid splashed over the rim, but he barely felt it soak his hand; the fury inside him boiled too bright. It physically crawled beneath his skin, the slithering Rage a clear sign that he was seconds away from exploding.
Gripping the table’s edge, the berserker’s eyes flashed a dangerous red.
In two seconds, the room was going to get ripped apart. In six, he’d be going for his agents. And once they were down, there would be nothing to stop him from ravaging the city. He had to get control of himself. And fast.
The table splintered beneath his fingers.
“Look,” he growled into his earpiece. “I realize –”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Her voice was as lovely as silk as it flitted through his mind. It wrapped around his heart, all delicate and soft – right before baring its teeth with all the venom of a pissed off viper.
Swearing, Tegan released the table. With an ominous creak, it split in two, then crashed to the ground.
His lips pursed. His eyes narrowed. Fighting the urge to release the entirety of his anger, Tegan clenched his fists with a snarl.
“Dammit! I don’t have time –”
“You never have time!”
Tegan almost bit back that wasn’t true, but the denial lodged tight in his throat. Swearing in frustration, he stalked to the other side of his room.
He glared at the stone walls that made up the castle. They were a dark gray, a perfect match to his current mood. In three hundred years, Tegan hadn’t lost control of his Rage outside of a fight, but just hearing Phoebe’s voice…
Just hearing what she wanted him to do…
The wall cracked beneath his fist.
To hell if he was going to comply.
“I have to go,” he snapped.
“Don’t you dare –”
Yanking the earpiece off him, Tegan tossed it on the table. He remembered too late that it was no longer there. Snarling, he snapped the phone back up and threw it at the couch.
“Gods dammit!”
He hadn’t seen Phoebe for nearly twenty years. He’d even fooled himself into believing he’d managed to put her behind him. Placed her in a forgotten box that he’d never have to deal with.
She was much safer that way.
He was much safer that way.
And since he was the head of the Elv’ve’Norc, an organization tasked with protecting the Seven Planes, all the fucking worlds were safer that way.
“Fuck!”
October 2, 2018
Tricked Into It - October Teaser
Estimating that they had another half a mile to go before reaching Dirk, Jack turned his head to his comrade and asked, “So what’s up with your wings?”
Xeno's jaw didn’t tick in irritation. Her nostrils didn’t flare in anger. Her eyes didn’t widen in fear that he dared ask her secret. She simply stared silently ahead, not doing a single thing that conveyed that she had heard him.
But he knew she had. He also knew she wouldn’t answer. Angels were as secretive as they came and Xeno was even more tight lipped than most these days. She hadn’t always been like this, but thirteen years ago, everything had changed. That joyous woman Jack had once known, the one whom would crack jokes with him in the dead of night, was dead. She had died in that castle and not one of them could revive her.
Nevertheless, Jack was too curious to let it go. Ever since they had saved her from her torture, Xeno had been rapidly turning into a fallen angel. Not even two weeks ago, she had barely been able to fly given the ragged mess her wings were in. Now, all of a sudden, over a single night, she was healing? It didn’t make any sense.
In all of his years alive, Jack had never come across a single angel that had managed to reverse their transition into a fallen. It had always been a done deal with the only variable being the length of time it took. Some fell within days, others it took years, decades even. Jack had been certain that Xeno wouldn’t last much longer.
But now…
“What happened, Xeno? What’d Gabriel do to you?”
At this, she did look at him. Her eyes were as dead and empty as always, but there was something in her face, something shielded. Whatever her secret was, Jack had guessed right. Gabriel was at the heart of it.
“Drop it, Jack,” she said calmly. “Or it won’t be just my secret that’s bared.”
The shock hit him like a solid blow to the chest. She didn’t know. She couldn’t. But her steely eyes said she did.
Shrugging casually, Jack ignored the hammering of his heart and the cold chill running down his back. “If you’re talking about telling them I’m bi, I doubt that’ll come as a surprise.”
She didn’t say anything, just turned her attention back ahead. Her threat had been made and Xeno never uttered them twice. She never needed to.
Cursing violently in his head, Jack tried to ignore the dark whispers rising inside him. Those that vowed Xeno hadn’t merely been bluffing to throw him off her trail. Those that urged him to protect his secret at all costs.
In another few minutes, they would be entering the outskirts of Dirk. The city was home to over a quarter million demons and twice that many convicts. Even the most quiet of alleyways would have someone all too willing to kill an angel. Especially one that doubled as an Elv’ve’Nor.
For despite how far the Underground of Halzaja had progressed over the years, it was still a land of barbarians. They lived by their own code and they policed by their own code. Anyone who tried to regulate that was as unwelcome as a cannibal at a blow job fest.
It would be so easy for Jack to run out of magic just at the wrong time. Even with everyone falling back to protect her, Xeno wouldn’t survive an outing in the middle of a drazic city. His comrades would fight as well as they could; Hunter would even helplessly sacrifice himself in an attempt to save her.
And yet Xeno would still fall, torn apart by teeth and claws until only her blood remained.
She’s my friend, Jack reminded himself even as a part of him latched onto the image of her death as a welcome solution. With every step he took toward the city, those dark whispers rose in volume until his head pounded with the force of their screams. And then that thing shifted inside him, its movements a physical slither across his ribcage.
But our secret will be safe.
The thing made it sound so easy, so desirous that Jack almost found himself agreeing. After all, he’d done a lot of callous shit over the years; what was one more?
Nothing, it whispered. Her death will mean nothing.
An image flashed inside Jack’s head. A beast as black as death and as large as a dragon crouched behind silver bars. Luminescent runes were carved into the metal, their power so strong that Jack could feel them pulsing in his veins.
And then suddenly, there he was, appearing in the image as if it was his right. He stood outside of the bars, staring into the bright, eerie eyes of the beast. They weren’t amber like he had, for some reason, expected, but a deep, dark red that burned with intelligence. And hatred.
As Jack looked into those familiar eyes, his skin crawled as if it was home to a million spiders. With sudden clarity, he realized that this wasn’t just a random image that had popped into his head. It was a peephole into his very soul. And that thing in front of him wasn’t just a terrifyingly large monster. It was that dark other half of him that terrified even his father.
But though Jack heard the warning bells and wanted desperately to listen to them, he still saw himself reaching out a hand. His fingers had just slipped through the bars of the cage when Galvanor’s calm voice ruptured the thing’s spell.
Demons in sight. We’ve reached the outskirt of Dirk.
Blinking rapidly, Jack watched as the scene inside his head disappeared on a plume of smoke. One more blink and it was gone completely.
Swallowing hard, he flicked his eyes to Xeno. She didn’t look as if she’d noticed his little mini trip down the rabbit hole and Jack was too unsettled to dig any deeper than that. With a wave of his hand, he placed her under the cover of his magic.
A moment later, the demons Galvanor mentioned came into view. Jack forced his lips to part in an easy smile as he fought to stay calm.
He hadn’t touched that thing, hadn’t released it from its cage to wreck death and destruction across the Planes. He had denied its wishes yet again. He was not about to uncover his friend and watch as she was ripped apart by her mortal enemies. Reminding himself of all this helped, but then –
Give it time. I will be free.
Swallowing hard, Jack did his best to ignore it.
Only it wasn’t that easy to dismiss something that, he too, believed in. He had been fighting the thing for too long and where he’d been growing tired of it, the thing had only grown stronger. It was only a matter of time before it finally broke free.
Jack could feel it in his bones. Everything was about to change.
Xeno's jaw didn’t tick in irritation. Her nostrils didn’t flare in anger. Her eyes didn’t widen in fear that he dared ask her secret. She simply stared silently ahead, not doing a single thing that conveyed that she had heard him.
But he knew she had. He also knew she wouldn’t answer. Angels were as secretive as they came and Xeno was even more tight lipped than most these days. She hadn’t always been like this, but thirteen years ago, everything had changed. That joyous woman Jack had once known, the one whom would crack jokes with him in the dead of night, was dead. She had died in that castle and not one of them could revive her.
Nevertheless, Jack was too curious to let it go. Ever since they had saved her from her torture, Xeno had been rapidly turning into a fallen angel. Not even two weeks ago, she had barely been able to fly given the ragged mess her wings were in. Now, all of a sudden, over a single night, she was healing? It didn’t make any sense.
In all of his years alive, Jack had never come across a single angel that had managed to reverse their transition into a fallen. It had always been a done deal with the only variable being the length of time it took. Some fell within days, others it took years, decades even. Jack had been certain that Xeno wouldn’t last much longer.
But now…
“What happened, Xeno? What’d Gabriel do to you?”
At this, she did look at him. Her eyes were as dead and empty as always, but there was something in her face, something shielded. Whatever her secret was, Jack had guessed right. Gabriel was at the heart of it.
“Drop it, Jack,” she said calmly. “Or it won’t be just my secret that’s bared.”
The shock hit him like a solid blow to the chest. She didn’t know. She couldn’t. But her steely eyes said she did.
Shrugging casually, Jack ignored the hammering of his heart and the cold chill running down his back. “If you’re talking about telling them I’m bi, I doubt that’ll come as a surprise.”
She didn’t say anything, just turned her attention back ahead. Her threat had been made and Xeno never uttered them twice. She never needed to.
Cursing violently in his head, Jack tried to ignore the dark whispers rising inside him. Those that vowed Xeno hadn’t merely been bluffing to throw him off her trail. Those that urged him to protect his secret at all costs.
In another few minutes, they would be entering the outskirts of Dirk. The city was home to over a quarter million demons and twice that many convicts. Even the most quiet of alleyways would have someone all too willing to kill an angel. Especially one that doubled as an Elv’ve’Nor.
For despite how far the Underground of Halzaja had progressed over the years, it was still a land of barbarians. They lived by their own code and they policed by their own code. Anyone who tried to regulate that was as unwelcome as a cannibal at a blow job fest.
It would be so easy for Jack to run out of magic just at the wrong time. Even with everyone falling back to protect her, Xeno wouldn’t survive an outing in the middle of a drazic city. His comrades would fight as well as they could; Hunter would even helplessly sacrifice himself in an attempt to save her.
And yet Xeno would still fall, torn apart by teeth and claws until only her blood remained.
She’s my friend, Jack reminded himself even as a part of him latched onto the image of her death as a welcome solution. With every step he took toward the city, those dark whispers rose in volume until his head pounded with the force of their screams. And then that thing shifted inside him, its movements a physical slither across his ribcage.
But our secret will be safe.
The thing made it sound so easy, so desirous that Jack almost found himself agreeing. After all, he’d done a lot of callous shit over the years; what was one more?
Nothing, it whispered. Her death will mean nothing.
An image flashed inside Jack’s head. A beast as black as death and as large as a dragon crouched behind silver bars. Luminescent runes were carved into the metal, their power so strong that Jack could feel them pulsing in his veins.
And then suddenly, there he was, appearing in the image as if it was his right. He stood outside of the bars, staring into the bright, eerie eyes of the beast. They weren’t amber like he had, for some reason, expected, but a deep, dark red that burned with intelligence. And hatred.
As Jack looked into those familiar eyes, his skin crawled as if it was home to a million spiders. With sudden clarity, he realized that this wasn’t just a random image that had popped into his head. It was a peephole into his very soul. And that thing in front of him wasn’t just a terrifyingly large monster. It was that dark other half of him that terrified even his father.
But though Jack heard the warning bells and wanted desperately to listen to them, he still saw himself reaching out a hand. His fingers had just slipped through the bars of the cage when Galvanor’s calm voice ruptured the thing’s spell.
Demons in sight. We’ve reached the outskirt of Dirk.
Blinking rapidly, Jack watched as the scene inside his head disappeared on a plume of smoke. One more blink and it was gone completely.
Swallowing hard, he flicked his eyes to Xeno. She didn’t look as if she’d noticed his little mini trip down the rabbit hole and Jack was too unsettled to dig any deeper than that. With a wave of his hand, he placed her under the cover of his magic.
A moment later, the demons Galvanor mentioned came into view. Jack forced his lips to part in an easy smile as he fought to stay calm.
He hadn’t touched that thing, hadn’t released it from its cage to wreck death and destruction across the Planes. He had denied its wishes yet again. He was not about to uncover his friend and watch as she was ripped apart by her mortal enemies. Reminding himself of all this helped, but then –
Give it time. I will be free.
Swallowing hard, Jack did his best to ignore it.
Only it wasn’t that easy to dismiss something that, he too, believed in. He had been fighting the thing for too long and where he’d been growing tired of it, the thing had only grown stronger. It was only a matter of time before it finally broke free.
Jack could feel it in his bones. Everything was about to change.
September 4, 2018
Tricked Into It - September Teaser
Jack leaned against the wall of the study, his mouth twisted into a wry grin. The room was taut with tension as the two demons glared at Tegan, the head of the Elv’ve’Norc. Their king was as close to death as he’d ever been and their sister was currently in the upper skies of Halzaja, a place better known as Heaven.
To a demon that was as good as dead.
And not in the good, happy, puppy’s now on the farm way either.
The Heldrons were on the verge of declaring war and as much as Jack understood the consequences of such a thing, he couldn’t help but be excited over the prospect. For even though he was an Elv’ve’Nor, an agent that had dedicated his life to upholding the peace of the Seven Planes, he was still a trickster.
The desire for chaos was in his blood.
“Bring her back,” Pyro demanded as his eyes heated a deadly red. He was on the cusp of changing into full demon mode where his horns and claws would lengthen, his bulk would double, and all sense would fly out the window. The time for talk was nearly over.
And thank the gods for that. Politics, even devious, scheming politics, was not Jack’s idea of a fun time.
“I promise you she’s there of her own will,” Tegan began. “When she’s ready –”
“A demon in Heaven by her own will!” Rahu, the younger brother, erupted. “You insult us with such a half-assed lie!” His eyes blazed with anger. With one challenging step he destroyed the distance between them. Snarling, he reached forward with a thick hand. His intent to wrap it around the man’s throat until death was obvious.
But though Jack had been brought along as backup, he didn’t move a muscle in aid. It wasn’t either of the demons they were worried about.
“She followed Galvanor there,” Tegan continued as coolly as a summer’s breeze.
Immediately, Rahu stopped in his approach, his fingers just skimming the berserker’s skin. He whipped his head around to face his brother and what he saw there caused him to growl.
“Kaz-ij!” Rahu snapped in their native tongue, his eyes narrowed in anger.
Immediately, Jack’s easy smile disappeared, replaced by the sly, devious grin his enemies had learned to fear. A random fight he would enjoy more than most people did chocolate. An actual threat to his friends, however, and things got serious fast.
Shifting his weight off the wall, Jack was about to call upon his magic when he noticed the amused look on Pyro’s face. Flicking a glance to Rahu, he rolled his eyes when he noticed what he had originally missed.
The demon’s teeth weren’t bared.
And though that in itself wouldn’t mean much in most tongues given the demon’s aggressive tone and narrowed eyes, it changed everything in drazic.
Rahu hadn’t said ‘kill him’ as in ‘Let’s kill Galvanor now,’ but rather ‘kill him’ as in ‘Dammit! We should’ve killed him when we had the chance, but we can’t now because our sister’s in love with him. Urgh!’
Ah yes, Jack had forgotten how overly complicated this language was. Which was ironic really given its elementary sentence structure and extremely limited word bank.
Muttering a string of curses, Rahu turned back around.
“And what is Galvanor doing up there?” he gritted out.
When the berserker simply dipped his eyes to the hand hovering around his neck and back up again, the demon flashed his teeth.
There was a second of tense silence before the demon dropped his hand.
Stepping back in an attempt to calm the situation, Tegan asked, “Do you know what the Duesychosis Plague is?”
As Rahu’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, Pyro’s widened in alarm.
“The same one that wiped out half the Persic plane?” the older brother demanded.
“Yes,” Tegan replied. “It seems the demon that threw the grenade at your king had it and passed it on.”
“Nivan!” they both exclaimed.
“But how? He’s not a persapic.”
The berserker’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. Even Jack’s smirk slid away as he too caught what was not said.
“Aren’t you going to ask where he got it,” the trickster said calmly. “Considering it hasn’t been around for millennia, I mean.”
To a demon that was as good as dead.
And not in the good, happy, puppy’s now on the farm way either.
The Heldrons were on the verge of declaring war and as much as Jack understood the consequences of such a thing, he couldn’t help but be excited over the prospect. For even though he was an Elv’ve’Nor, an agent that had dedicated his life to upholding the peace of the Seven Planes, he was still a trickster.
The desire for chaos was in his blood.
“Bring her back,” Pyro demanded as his eyes heated a deadly red. He was on the cusp of changing into full demon mode where his horns and claws would lengthen, his bulk would double, and all sense would fly out the window. The time for talk was nearly over.
And thank the gods for that. Politics, even devious, scheming politics, was not Jack’s idea of a fun time.
“I promise you she’s there of her own will,” Tegan began. “When she’s ready –”
“A demon in Heaven by her own will!” Rahu, the younger brother, erupted. “You insult us with such a half-assed lie!” His eyes blazed with anger. With one challenging step he destroyed the distance between them. Snarling, he reached forward with a thick hand. His intent to wrap it around the man’s throat until death was obvious.
But though Jack had been brought along as backup, he didn’t move a muscle in aid. It wasn’t either of the demons they were worried about.
“She followed Galvanor there,” Tegan continued as coolly as a summer’s breeze.
Immediately, Rahu stopped in his approach, his fingers just skimming the berserker’s skin. He whipped his head around to face his brother and what he saw there caused him to growl.
“Kaz-ij!” Rahu snapped in their native tongue, his eyes narrowed in anger.
Immediately, Jack’s easy smile disappeared, replaced by the sly, devious grin his enemies had learned to fear. A random fight he would enjoy more than most people did chocolate. An actual threat to his friends, however, and things got serious fast.
Shifting his weight off the wall, Jack was about to call upon his magic when he noticed the amused look on Pyro’s face. Flicking a glance to Rahu, he rolled his eyes when he noticed what he had originally missed.
The demon’s teeth weren’t bared.
And though that in itself wouldn’t mean much in most tongues given the demon’s aggressive tone and narrowed eyes, it changed everything in drazic.
Rahu hadn’t said ‘kill him’ as in ‘Let’s kill Galvanor now,’ but rather ‘kill him’ as in ‘Dammit! We should’ve killed him when we had the chance, but we can’t now because our sister’s in love with him. Urgh!’
Ah yes, Jack had forgotten how overly complicated this language was. Which was ironic really given its elementary sentence structure and extremely limited word bank.
Muttering a string of curses, Rahu turned back around.
“And what is Galvanor doing up there?” he gritted out.
When the berserker simply dipped his eyes to the hand hovering around his neck and back up again, the demon flashed his teeth.
There was a second of tense silence before the demon dropped his hand.
Stepping back in an attempt to calm the situation, Tegan asked, “Do you know what the Duesychosis Plague is?”
As Rahu’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, Pyro’s widened in alarm.
“The same one that wiped out half the Persic plane?” the older brother demanded.
“Yes,” Tegan replied. “It seems the demon that threw the grenade at your king had it and passed it on.”
“Nivan!” they both exclaimed.
“But how? He’s not a persapic.”
The berserker’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. Even Jack’s smirk slid away as he too caught what was not said.
“Aren’t you going to ask where he got it,” the trickster said calmly. “Considering it hasn’t been around for millennia, I mean.”
August 3, 2018
Tricked Into It...August Teaser
Every click of Charlie’s shoes pierced her ears like a knife to the stomach. Every breath she stole from the putrid cold air burned its way down her throat. Every closed door she passed in the empty castle mocked her with the reality of her imprisonment.
The bastard had summoned her.
It killed her to walk at a normal pace when all Charlie wanted to do was run. The suspense was tearing into her heart, ripping out huge chunks of her soul. She needed to know what Sebastian had done to her child more than she needed her pride. But it wasn’t her dignity that kept her legs steady and slow.
It was knowing that whatever she did now wouldn’t matter. Sebastian had already played his hand. Whatever sick action he had taken against her son couldn’t be reversed. Charlie would rather rot in hell than give the bastard the additional satisfaction of breaking her.
So she ignored the sharp pains in her heart that every footfall brought. She ignored the tightening of her throat as sobs lodged there along with the contents of her stomach. She ignored the motherly voice inside her as it begged with constant screams for her to pick up the pace, for her to end the nightmare haunting her imagination.
But as much as she wanted to pay it heed, Charlie ignored it all.
She had to.
For if she lost her spirit and weakened her spine, she lost Anthony. Once Charlie was broken, there wouldn’t be any reason for Sebastian to keep her child alive. So she would take everything that bastard threw at her with her head held high and her shoulders back.
And when she finally had the opening to kill him, she would take it with the utmost satisfaction.
It might not be today. It might not even be in this lifetime. But one day, Charlie would find a way to rip the bastard’s heart from his chest and toss it into the Eternal Flames. He would never be reborn again.
She held onto her anger as she walked the halls, desperate to keep her pace steady. With every step she cursed the vampire’s mind games. Sebastian had the ability to teleport to her exact location. Instead, he had sent a bitch with a letter. There was only one word scribbled upon it, but it was enough.
Written in blood, it demanded obedience.
Come.
She had first shaken with rage and fear, then stilled with cold determination. Fighting the tears and sobs that threatened to break her, Charlie had carefully folded the paper and placed it on her desk. Under the heedful gaze of Sebastian’s minion, she’d refused to look at the severed finger hanging above her.
As frail as her mind was, looking at Anthony’s pinkie would have destroyed her.
But now, as she’d had the chance to build up her strength, envisioning it only brought anger. Mountains and mountains of anger.
The bastard had harmed her child.
She was going to kill him. One day.
Over and over, she promised this to herself.
But all too soon, she was greeted by the menacing door of the throne room. As if doused by a fire extinguisher, her spirit diminished. Shakily, Charlie collected her breath and gathered up the jagged pieces of her soul. After binding them together with tape that did not stick, she kicked open the door.
The bastard had summoned her.
It killed her to walk at a normal pace when all Charlie wanted to do was run. The suspense was tearing into her heart, ripping out huge chunks of her soul. She needed to know what Sebastian had done to her child more than she needed her pride. But it wasn’t her dignity that kept her legs steady and slow.
It was knowing that whatever she did now wouldn’t matter. Sebastian had already played his hand. Whatever sick action he had taken against her son couldn’t be reversed. Charlie would rather rot in hell than give the bastard the additional satisfaction of breaking her.
So she ignored the sharp pains in her heart that every footfall brought. She ignored the tightening of her throat as sobs lodged there along with the contents of her stomach. She ignored the motherly voice inside her as it begged with constant screams for her to pick up the pace, for her to end the nightmare haunting her imagination.
But as much as she wanted to pay it heed, Charlie ignored it all.
She had to.
For if she lost her spirit and weakened her spine, she lost Anthony. Once Charlie was broken, there wouldn’t be any reason for Sebastian to keep her child alive. So she would take everything that bastard threw at her with her head held high and her shoulders back.
And when she finally had the opening to kill him, she would take it with the utmost satisfaction.
It might not be today. It might not even be in this lifetime. But one day, Charlie would find a way to rip the bastard’s heart from his chest and toss it into the Eternal Flames. He would never be reborn again.
She held onto her anger as she walked the halls, desperate to keep her pace steady. With every step she cursed the vampire’s mind games. Sebastian had the ability to teleport to her exact location. Instead, he had sent a bitch with a letter. There was only one word scribbled upon it, but it was enough.
Written in blood, it demanded obedience.
Come.
She had first shaken with rage and fear, then stilled with cold determination. Fighting the tears and sobs that threatened to break her, Charlie had carefully folded the paper and placed it on her desk. Under the heedful gaze of Sebastian’s minion, she’d refused to look at the severed finger hanging above her.
As frail as her mind was, looking at Anthony’s pinkie would have destroyed her.
But now, as she’d had the chance to build up her strength, envisioning it only brought anger. Mountains and mountains of anger.
The bastard had harmed her child.
She was going to kill him. One day.
Over and over, she promised this to herself.
But all too soon, she was greeted by the menacing door of the throne room. As if doused by a fire extinguisher, her spirit diminished. Shakily, Charlie collected her breath and gathered up the jagged pieces of her soul. After binding them together with tape that did not stick, she kicked open the door.
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