Ashes and bones the red.., p.1
Ashes & Bones (The Red Masques Book 2), page 1
Contents
Prologue - Lucida
Chapter 1 - Vegas
Chapter 2 - Vegas
Chapter 3 - Bandit
Chapter 4 - Vegas
Chapter 5 - Vegas
Chapter 6 - Vegas
Chapter 7 - Blue
Chapter 8 - Vegas
Chapter 9 - Vegas
Chapter 10 - Booker
Chapter 11 - Vegas
Chapter 12 - Vegas
Chapter 13 - Vegas
Chapter 14 - Grover
Chapter 15 - Vegas
Chapter 16 - Vegas
Chapter 17 - Decimus
Chapter 18 - Vegas
Chapter 19 - Booker
Chapter 20 - Vegas
Chapter 21 - Cosimo
Chapter 22 - Kodiak
Chapter 23 - Vegas
Chapter 24 - Vegas
Chapter 25 - Byron
Chapter 26 - Edwin
Chapter 27 - Vegas
Chapter 28 - Rocket
Chapter 29 - Vegas
Chapter 30 - Vegas
M. Sinclair
Copyright © M. Sinclair, 2018. All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Cover: Noel Sellon
*Fantasy Reverse Harem*
Vegas and her mean swear a lot. As well, please be advised that the book contains darker themes such as gore, assault, PTSD, and violence. Additionally, sexual themes are suitable for mature audiences +18.
For those who love our over the top alpha males AND our kickass heroines.
“Create an empire together.”
Lucida
“Is there something you would like to tell me?” The deep baritone growled. I could feel the indent his boot had made on my ribs and dehydrated skin. I had no fucking idea how he was doing it, but he was draining me. Completely draining me of all fluids. My throat and head throbbed in pain as I laid on the floor.
I couldn’t see, but my training as a PI this past summer alerted me to a few small factors. One, the boots he wore were a size 14. This man was fucking massive, and his continued abuse to my body proved that. Two, I was in a basement with no windows but a very loud furnace. Three, this was Vegas’ stalker.
Without a fucking doubt.
How I wished I had more experience under my belt. I could have seen this coming.
When I had opened the door to my apartment, he had already been masked and hooded. I couldn’t tell you what he looked like, but his voice had grown familiar to me. I would know it and probably have nightmares about it for the rest of my life.
If I lived.
I had already thrown this particular pity party, though. I had lamented about how I never told my best friend about my induction into the Bravo Clearance Security Group this summer. I cried about not telling Miranda one last time how much I loved her. I even felt sick over not telling my foster brothers how much I respected and loved them. Fuck. I should have realized what a big deal this was.
It had come out of nowhere though. He had come out of nowhere.
Now, I would die alone in this basement because I wasn’t watchful enough. I hadn’t taken this threat seriously enough. Now, I was fucking pissed because this guy wanted my best friend. I hoped when I was gone, she would take care of Miranda.
“You can beat me all you want. I don’t know shit,” I snarled.
A scream ripped from my throat as he pulled my hair back and punched my shoulder.
Hard. Really fucking hard.
I wasn’t lying. I really didn’t know anything. I had no idea about this magic shit he was going on about. He sounded like a fucking nutcase.
“You’ve never seen her do anything unusual?” He asked in a low tone, “I find that really hard to believe, Lucida Voronin. Really fucking hard to believe.”
I whimpered as I got another kick to my ribs. He walked away. I heard a cabinet opening, knowing that this was only going to get worse before it got better. If it got better.
He was right, though. I had seen her do unusual things. It had only been once. One time and never again. It could have been a trick of the light, an odd wind with a candle. Just the one time. Or maybe a few.
No. I had to be strong. I knew fucking nothing.
Really.
“Here’s the deal,” he purred in that deep, dangerous tone. “We are going to play a game. Every time you tell me ‘no’, you lose a nail. When we get down to only fingers, I will chop those off… and if I’m fortunate, we will work our way up your forearm.”
“You’re a fucking bastard,” I snarled.
I felt the cold tip of a knife pull under my nail as he chuckled, “That I am. So, Ms. Voronin, what unusual things have you seen my girl do?”
I spit on his shoe.
My screams were loud as the first nail was pulled off. Fuck.
This was going to suck.
Vegas
Pointless.
Being here was pointless. I sat in my class, exhausted from the night before, and barely focused on the words spewing from my instructor’s mouth. I could count the number of fine lines her pale blue blouse held, but what she said was an absolute mystery to me.
All I could hear was the madness.
Magic was real. I supposed I may have known that it was a possibility in some part of my subconscious brain. Edwin and Byron had been right – I had known something was different about me, about us. I just had never assumed that real magic could exist or that I would be practicing it. I mean, where was my invitation to Hogwarts?
I had become insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
Edwin had left a note on my dresser this morning with a quickly written quote from Edgar Allan Poe. I think he had a fetish for the author, honestly. Unfortunately, I also think it was his attempt at comforting me.
That alone was a terrifying thought.
Luckily, Byron had left a more substantial message that instructed the group of us to prepare for a weekend trip. I kept Edwin’s note in my pocket as I smoothed over the material and smeared the ink. Honestly, for all I knew the man had written it with a quill… or magic. That was a possibility, I guess.
Moving on. Best not to dwell on the crazy.
We had no idea where or how we would be traveling. Instead, we were placing our trust in an unhinged psycho and blood lover. Yes. It was bound to be a fascinating weekend.
The class dismissed and I strolled out of the grim room with practiced steps. The campus was busy with activity from the recent bombing, so I did my best to avoid the large news trucks stationed outside of each building. When I spotted Cosimo, I nearly sprinted into his arms.
“Hey, you,” he whispered with a playful kiss on top of my head. His rich scent overwhelmed me and filled my chest with a sense of affection and love. I buried my head into his soft oversized hoodie, a pale gray, which hid his lean ripped torso. A cold metal lip ring pressed against my forehead in a comforting gesture. If I could have buried myself in the healing energy that he put out, I would have... if not for the news trucks.
“Remind me why we are at school,” I muttered under breath. His hand gripped mine in a vise hold as we moved across campus under the gloomy sky.
I had prepared for the late October rainy season by wearing a plum colored jacket. The inside was lined with sheep's wool that kept my arms warm despite the flimsy shirt underneath. My dark jeans and Vans matched Cosimo’s perfectly. The two of us had unintentionally twinned in grungy clothes, and I didn’t mind one bit. In fact, it was pretty damned cute.
“Here, mi tesoro,” Cosimo mumbled while slipping his black beanie over my cold ears. “Kodiak will kill me if he sees how red your ears are.”
I chuckled at the fear in his crystalline eyes. They stood out so much compared to his tanned skin and shone like perfectly shaped diamonds surrounded by thick dark lashes. His hair laid in a choppy cut that accented his crystal eyebrow piercing.
“What does that mean?” I wondered, his accented words piquing my curiosity.
A blush stained Cosimo’s cheeks as he gently worried his silver lip ring. I tried to refrain my smile. Cosimo wasn’t ordinarily shy, or one to blush. That was Booker’s job. I noticed with Cosimo that he was far more comfortable with physicality and nonverbal cues compared to soft-spoken words.
He caught my concerned brow dip and instantly flashed me a smile, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, Vegas, it’s just a term of endearment.”
I flushed and danced on my toes as we crossed the pavilion, “What does it mean, though?” I couldn’t help the bolt of excitement that flashed through me.
Cosimo laughed lightly while swinging an arm around my shoulder to tuck me into his side, “If you figure it out, you get to know, okay?”
Before I could respond, a hard body slammed into both of us. I heard Cosimo’s grunt as I tumbled back into him with a “shit”.
“Watch yourself,” a voice growled at us. My eyes trailed up to meet a massive chest and angry green eyes. I nearly flinched back at the palatable fury directed toward… Cosimo?
What the heck?
Cosimo’s eyes flashed with anger as he pressed me behind him with gentle force. Hi s arm wrapped around me from behind as I rested my face against his back, ignoring the jerk in front of us.
“You walked right into us,” Cosimo voiced with steady confidence.
“Oh, did I?” The man growled with obvious sarcasm. I frowned and stepped around Cosimo with annoyance spread across my features.
“Stop being an ass,” I demanded. Cosimo’s arms wrapped around my center as he tried to cover as much of me as possible. I knew he wanted to leave. My playful Spaniard was not a fan of conflict.
The man in front of us was dangerous. His build was more significant than Kodiak’s, and those dark green eyes burned me with an indecipherable expression. I hated this man, suddenly and powerfully. It was a primal and instinctual reaction like my instant fear of him.
I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes burned into me until I found myself leaning back into Cosimo for relief. He stared at me until it was almost rude to do so. Not almost, it was 100% rude. Finally, with a grunt, the man walked off and left the two of us in the wake of his toxic personality.
Cosimo had me in his arms instantly, my legs wrapping around his waist, as he moved toward the parking lot with exceptional speed. I tried to ignore how good it felt to be wrapped around him. I placed my head against the crook of his neck and breathed in his comforting scent.
“Um, Vegas, call Blue please,” he whispered while placing me onto the ground with rigid motions. I looked up to find his gaze on our small sedan. His body was frozen in place, and those beautiful eyes were dilated in fear.
“Because of that guy?” I asked with frustration. He was so not on the top of our priority list right now. Cosimo shook his head and turned me gently.
No.
That was the only word that popped into my head. My eyes fluttered as bile rose in my throat. This had to be some sick Halloween joke. It had to be. If it wasn’t… well, I couldn’t comprehend that.
Our small sedan was splattered with blood on the passenger door. It dripped from the handle and fell in small disgusting rivers that pooled on the pavement. The source of the blood?
A small digit. A finger.
Neon nail polish. A finger wrapped in a strand of pink hair.
Oh, gods.
Vegas
My knees broke as a wave of nausea took over my stomach. I dry heaved, having not eaten today, as Cosimo spoke in low, urgent tones. I could feel the energy of malice and evil surrounding our car. It was a trace of the power that had been here.
I didn’t understand how I knew, how I felt it down to my bones. But I did. Right now, it was the only thing I knew.
“Byron,” I whispered looking up at Cosimo. “Call him before we move anything.”
I would not have a panic attack. I would not.
My back straightened as I took a deep breath that nearly caused me to gag. It was a Halloween joke. It was a joke. Not her finger.
Not her finger.
Not her hair.
A car screeched as I managed to sit up. It wasn’t the SUV I expected. No, instead a black matte Ferrari roared to a stop as both magical asshats stepped out. Edwin’s eyes snapped to mine as Byron went toward the car. I felt myself sway slightly on my feet as a strong breeze pushed the scent of blood into my nose.
Why did it bother me now? In the past 24 hours, there had been a lot of blood. More than this for sure. This was her blood though.
Not her.
Not her.
That was why it bothered me. The possibility that it could be hers.
Edwin’s orange eyes filled my vision as he watched me with a peculiar look on his face. Those dark lashes fluttered in interest as I examined the way his eyes faded from deep amber to pumpkin orange. It was beautiful. Also fitting since I was almost positive that today was Halloween.
Not her finger.
Not her hair.
Someone tried to pull my hand, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen and transfixed by Edwin and his shoulder-length curly hair. He reminded me of a knight from the tales of King Arthur. Edwin’s eyes continued to swirl as he spoke to another figure that clouded the space near him.
I couldn’t focus on that though. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but him.
Not her finger.
Not her hair.
My heart rate slowed as the bubble of panic holding my body released.
I gasped, coughing, as reality hit me like a semi-truck. My panic attack was gone and replaced with the cold hard truth. What the fuck had Edwin just done? My sputtering didn’t stop, but the voices and their volume resumed.
“What the hell did you just do?” Decimus’s rough voice echoed across the pavement as Kodiak’s fresh pine scent invaded my lungs. I felt his massive tanned arms wrap around me as I curled into his chest. Somehow, we were sitting on the pavement. My eyes found his deep green gaze.
“I stopped her panic attack, for now,” Edwin sighed as if my distress was incredibly boring to him. I took a moment to examine my grizzly bear. Despite his usual grunts and quietness, he was a pretty easy-going guy. Unless you hurt what was his – me included. I found myself tracing over his dark brown glasses and the way they complemented his soft chocolate hair. Everything about him was warm, like melted butter and vanilla. Except for his massive muscles. Those weren’t soft, but they were warm. Actually, super fucking hot.
Yep. I was broken. Officially.
“You need to shave,” I muttered while running a hand along his scruffy strong jaw as a brilliant smile overtook his face. The white matched the color of his Henley that he wore today... it totally emphasized his massive biceps.
I was staring again.
“Well,” he grinned, “you can’t be feeling too bad if you’re worried about my shaving habits.” I rolled my eyes at his accurate statement. It seemed I was getting better at this madness. It helped that I was curled into his lap and felt absolutely safe in his massive hold. Safe. I always felt safe with him.
“Princess,” Decimus demanded my attention with that singular nickname. It had been the tradeoff for him to stop smoking. Unfortunately, he had slowly gotten crankier since Monday. Earlier this morning I had nearly slapped a nicotine patch over his damned mouth.
“Deci,” I smiled softly while pressing into Kodiak’s chest. My eyes fluttered up to a pair of broad shoulders covered in leather, worn and older, just like his boots. My stomach exploded in nervous butterflies at the sight of his silver belt buckle and low hanging jeans – tight and dark in coloring. Damn. He was just sex on a stick. Bossy. Rude. The quintessential bad boy. Yep. Sex on a stick. That obsidian colored hair looked messy and tousled against his ivory skin. A pair of dark burning eyes shone like embers in a bonfire as they examined my expression. I could feel myself blush as relief became evident on his face. He had been worried about me.
That was the tricky part about Decimus. He was a stubborn bastard, but he was also a loving, protective bastard. He had loyalty for the family that was impossible to find anywhere else. I loved him for it.
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly. I could hear the chaos around me, specifically one harsh voice that stuck out. Blue.
“Good,” I lied. I was not good.
Not her finger.
Not her hair.
“Find this fucking guy, Byron, I’m not fucking around about this,” Blue snarled. Despite Edwin and Byron having magic, it seemed the power dynamic in the group had been restored. Good. I didn’t trust the two magical asshats to lead us. Unless it was into a ditch. I trusted them with that.
“Blue,” I whispered looking up at a pair of denim baby blues. I could tell by the lack of dimples and his locked jaw that this was the other version of Blue. He wasn’t the good-natured, happy guy that made friends with every shoulder pat and hug. No. This Blue was scary. He would never hurt me, I knew that well, but anyone else wasn’t a for sure bet.
My arms were up and around his neck in a mere second. His lean, but toned, arms wrapped around me as the scent of cinnamon invaded my senses and warmed me down to my toes. Blue was tall, but he always managed to make me feel on equal footing with him. I knew everyone looked to him for advice and plans, but he looked to me for the same thing. We were partners.
“Let’s get her home, I don’t like her outside in the open,” He ordered sharply. His nose ran along my jaw, and I found myself slipping into a state of calm.
