Maverick: Rogue Enforcers Novel

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Maverick: Rogue Enforcers Novel Page 1

by Liberty Parker




  Copyright 2020© Liberty Parker

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by: Liberty Parker

  Editor: Darlene Tallman

  Proofreader: Kayce Kyle

  Cover by Tracie Douglas of Dark Water Covers

  Format by Liberty Parker

  Model: David Kash

  Photo by: SP Photography

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from Liberty Parker, the author / publisher.

  To all of you who believe in true love and destiny… this story is for you.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Maverick

  2. Maverick

  3. Maverick

  4. Maverick

  5. Maverick

  6. Maverick

  7. Maverick

  8. Maverick

  9. Connelly

  10. Connelly

  11. Connelly

  12. Connelly

  13. Connelly

  14. Maverick

  15. Connelly

  16. Maverick

  17. Maverick

  Epilogue

  Rogue Enforcers Series

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Liberty Parker

  Blurb

  Maverick

  I'm a loner, a hybrid, a man without a pack or a coven. My abilities as a shifter and a vampire, as well as my human side, are constantly at war with one another. Solitude is the only way I can survive my so-called life. I do jobs for the Rogue Enforcers, live with some woman's voice in my head, and have one man I call friend.

  When Charisma telepathically tells me that my mate is in trouble, I find that I've got more people in my corner than I expected as we fight enemies from my past. A past I know nothing about, thanks to my heritage and the stigma attached. But we cannot lose, I cannot lose because this woman who is my destined mate? Will help me heal the world.

  Connelly

  The irony about being a shifter is that some of us have more abilities than others. My bloodline comes straight from the originals of our species and as such, is sought after for its magical properties. When I'm kidnapped and held captive by a coven of vampires, I pray for death since I can't shift and destroy them all. Only, help comes from an unlikely source, one who tells me that my mate has been notified and to hang on until he arrives. Never expecting to have a mate, I'm intrigued yet nervous.

  Will Maverick, the curmudgeonly hybrid, find his mate in time? Will he allow more people into his solitary life? Can his friends help him right the wrongs of the past? Can Connelly trust that he will do her no harm?

  Rowina

  28 years ago

  I’m exhausted. My body feels lifeless, the sudden burst of energy I had when this began has left me. I’ve been in labor with my son for two days now. I can hear the silent thoughts as they rumble through everyone’s minds, every snide remark, every death wished upon my child, I hear it all. One of the many spectacular inheritances that have been bestowed upon me from my supernatural/vampiric parents is that of mind reading. While I’ve been pregnant with Maverick, I’ve experienced not only my own supernatural abilities, but his as well. He is a strong one; with much responsibility lying on his shoulders.

  I grit my teeth, then let out a roaring scream as I finally push my son from the birthing canal. His cries of displeasure and hunger for life are heard throughout these cavernous walls. He’s perfect. I bring him to my bosom, giving him the nutrients he needs to begin the rocky road he will surely face throughout his lifetime. Being a hybrid is scary to our races, it will bring death and destruction to his door.

  “He can’t be allowed to live, Rowina,” the birthing minister announces to not only me, but the rest of the women who are here to witness the birth of my boy. I let my fangs dislodge; feeling them tear through my gums does nothing to dissuade me from showing her my displeasure at her vicious words. I will rip her throat out, and eat her heart, if she contemplates threatening my boy.

  “He’s my child!” My voice changes as does my body as I prepare to go to war with my coven, my family. “I will do whatever it takes to procure his future. I will go as far as to protect him with my very life! Even if it means taking yours along the way.” I vehemently voice my chosen words toward our matriarch.

  “He’s part dog, Rowina!” she hollers back. Her fangs elongate and I want to snatch them out of her mouth and ensure she can never feed again, never feel the fresh blood on her tongue as it coats her throat. “He will bring shame upon our people.” He’s a baby! Only a few minutes old. How the hell can he manage to do that? I’m beyond livid at this point. Yes, he may be different, but that doesn't mean he isn’t meant to be of this world.

  “No!” I holler back. “He’s destined for greatness. He will bring all of our kind together in solidarity. He will be the reason we are able to live, flourish, and stop being hunted by shifters, slayers, and humans alike.” I’ve foreseen this in many visions while I was pregnant with him; I was provided with the power of insight. “I will slaughter anyone who tries to take my son’s life. He is meant to be here, for the greater good of our kind. Don’t you see? Me mating with a wolf, the impossible happening, and me conceiving Maverick. The higher powers need him. We need him,” I implore the women of my coven to see reason.

  “You will be exiled if you choose his life above our own,” Charisma, the matriarch informs me. I nod my head in acceptance. It will be a hard life, but I can do it— for my son, I can do anything. I’ll survive. If nothing else, I will find someone to take him in, love him, care for him, guide him.

  “You will someday come to regret this decision, Charisma,” I inform her of something very important, something that she’s unaware of, but I feel like I still need to implement the warning. I received this insight just a few short weeks into my pregnancy; his birth and life have already been written into existence.

  “Out!” Charisma screams. The other women hastily retreat from the room— like a family of unsanitary cockroaches. My eyes narrow into slits, unsure if being alone with her is truly a good idea, or a bad one. She looks over at me, and I can see the internal war she’s suffering at the decision that she, and she alone, will be forced to make. “The elders will insist on his life being exterminated, Rowina. But you’ve had several predictions during your pregnancy that have saved several members of this coven’s lives. I’m inclined to believe this one is no different. If your son will truly unite us, and save our kind from extinction, I’m willing to help you escape. But, as long as they believe you live, neither of you will be safe. Ever.” She begins pacing the room and tapping her finger on her chin. “We have to somehow, someway, figure out a believable way to publicly play out your deaths. Everyone has to believe, with one hundred percent certainty, the two of you are no longer a threat to us or our kind.” Her furious pacing is beginning to make me nauseous.

  Maverick begins whimpering, so I pick him up and place him upon my breast once again. He suckles, nourishing himself. Mesmerizing me, and the fact that he beat all the odds that have already been stacked against him and survived his birth. A few teeth-clenching minutes pass by, and a tiny pinp
rick upon my bosom catches me off guard. Maverick’s eyes turn red with his blood lust, as he takes some of my life force, providing himself with what his body needs for survival. I pat his bum as his eyes begin to close with the fullness of his tummy. Instead of baby whimpers, he lets out tiny howls. Charisma’s eyes hood with delight as she watches me mother my son.

  A vision hits me of my boy, with a woman, a bounty of friends, and peace with his existence. His friends are that of many shifters, humans, and vampires alike. I send this prediction of the future to Charisma, using our coven link.

  “The child must live.”

  Maverick

  I hate people… all sorts of people. They don’t particularly care for me either. It’s why I prefer the status, and title, of being a rogue shifter. I don’t fit in particularly well with groups of shifters, most certainly not that of humans. It’s assuredly why I don’t belong to a particular clan, coven, den… whatever the hell it is that a group of shifters have categorized themselves as. Let me tell you something about shifters, you don't necessarily have to be born a specific animal to be accepted and mated by another breed. It helps to not be feared and be able to blend into the family. And besides, the fact still remains, that I don’t really belong to any particular species.

  Rules, I sorta loathe them. Which is why, when Colton sought me out, and asked me to be part of his Rogue Enforcers, it took some convincing. I tried the year before to become an Enforcer, and was basically laughed out; then hastily informed, in no uncertain terms, that there’s no way I'd ever be accepted. Apparently, I’m anti-social and particularly hard to get along with.

  What-the-fuck-ever! I’m damn near close to perfection, and motherfucking spectacular, if I do say so myself. Their loss, not mine.

  When others have found out what I’m capable of, they’ve tried to coax me to their group. Usually, it’s the darkest of shifters who want me. Most of them desire me to use my visions and predictions for their own personal gain, but not Colton. It’s the only gift I’ve ever shared with others, and that’s not because I chose to, it’s because I was in public when one hit me out of the blue. It’s regrettably not something easily hidden from others. Unfortunately. My eyes turn white as the driven snow, my body tenses, and my hands involuntarily shake.

  The only time it reared its ugly head without me controlling it, I was in public. The day my visions were thrown out there against my will, I was holding a cold mug of beer, at a local tavern. Needless to say, when my hands shook, I lost my grip and it hit the ground shattering into a thousand shards of miniscule sharp pieces. As my hands convulsed, I ended up garnering the attention of all the patrons, some not so great people, in the establishment. The thoughts that invade my mind of what happened that fateful day, make me bitter. As I was in a trance, I was taken against my will while lost in a vision. I was gagged, cuffed, taken advantage of while my vision was happening by a few elite members of a pride, led by a despicable lion king by the name of Corona. The same beer I’d just so happened to be consuming at the time of my capture. My fangs extend at the mere thought of his name alone. I’ve never picked up another one of those brews to this day. His name, the beer, the thoughts, all three have a tendency to make me uncontrollably violent.

  I’m currently conducting my nightly patrol. A dark alley is my choice for tonight, it’s part of a strip here in my hometown, one that is known to be full of criminal activity. All of my thoughts and memories are interrupted as my phone rings. Looking down at the caller ID, I know I need to take this phone call. But not until I can safely count some damn sheep, and calm my heart rate down. I need to somewhat settle the two beasts who are consistently brawling inside of my mind about being forced to share a living space inside of me.

  Colton, what bad timing you have, I internally seethe. I sometimes wonder if he has a radar that says… now is the perfect time to fuck with Maverick?

  “Yes,” I answer before it goes to voicemail. My fangs are still down, causing my voice to come out in a raspy lisp.

  “What’s happened?” he asks me before even muttering a simple hello. Is it so wrong to expect a little common courtesy and greet me the right way? Always so in tune with his enforcers… it makes me sick. I can’t ever escape his intuitions when it comes to what he considers his. And as I’ve learned, I fall into that category… again, unfortunately. I like Colton, he’s a nice guy and all, I just wish he wouldn’t try to move us past the boss and employee relationship.

  “The past.” Is the only answer I’ll willingly give up at this time. It’s more than anyone else would receive. I’m not exactly the sharing-caring type. That’s for carebears, not shifters.

  “Are you in the right frame of mind to do some work? I have a job that requires your… specialties,” he hesitates in saying.

  “My specialties?” What I really wanna say is, fuck off, Colton. But I know he’s trying to be subtle as he states this.

  “Yeah, I need your vamp intuitions on this.” My wolf gets pissed off when Colton says this. My wolf is more dominating than my vampiric side. My nuzzle begins to elongate as my vamp fangs recede back into my gums. The transition is painful, yet one I’m used to.

  “Why?” my wolf growls. My claws begin pushing through my fingers and my phone is taking the unbridled brunt of my anger. Damn wolf. He’ll cost me yet another fucking phone.

  “You’re not going to like this,” Colton begins. “I need you to infiltrate a vamp coven.” The fuck did he just say? He didn’t, I hope to fuck my ears are deceiving me.

  “What the fuck, Colton,” a low howl leaves my throat. I may be part vampire, but I loathe those blood-thirsty, toe-curling, sons-of-bitches. Something he’s acutely aware of. There’s only one that I’ll tolerate, and that’s because she’s been in my head for as long as I can remember.

  “They’ve forcefully taken a she-wolf against her will. We believe they’re using her as a feeding source. You know more than anyone how much vamps believe that when they intake a purebred shifter’s essence it enhances their magic.” My wolf whines with the information, while my vampire side demands blood. It’s hard for three entities to live inside of one shell— my human, vampire, and wolf side. I don’t understand how the powers that be allowed me to be sired with a vampiric mother and a wolf shifter father. A mother who abandoned me without a second thought at birth, and a father I’ve never met, who clearly couldn’t care less about me, or my existence. There was a note left with me from my mother, one I was to open specifically on my thirteenth birthday. Not before, and it was expressed that there was no waiting until the day after. When I opened it, and I read it, that’s when everything I thought was true in my life changed forever.

  I learned of my wolf side.

  It helped to prepare me for that first full moon. That’s a birthday I’ll never forget, especially seeing as it’s the first time I shifted. She tried to prepare me for the pain, for the hunt that would follow. Nothing anyone could have said would have fully prepared me for the bones breaking and regenerating into an animal that lived its life on four legs, instead of the two I was used to.

  Since that day, my two sides have dueled for dominance, leaving my human half reeling on the side. I hear a car screech in the background, bringing me back to the here and now. “Where’s her clan?” I come back into the moment. Shouldn’t they be the ones saving her? She-wolves are coveted; the men would move heaven and earth to protect their women.

  “Slaughtered. There was one male who had hit puberty, he was out on his first hunt. He came back in time to witness the she-wolf being dragged away. We can only assume there’s one reason they have taken her. And only her.”

  “She’s the only one with magical vibes,” I answer for him.

  “Which means she has a special gift,” he quietly states.

  “One they’ll use for their own personal gain. They’ll intake as much of her blood as they can to try and capture as much of her magic as they can.” My wolf cries out in anguish at the agonizing thought.
r />   “We have to find her before they end up taking too much of her blood and her life force is no longer.” His anger is present with his authoritative tone.

  “Do we know which coven?” I’m mentally preparing myself for infiltration. Covens don’t easily allow outsiders in. They are cautious and put a newbie through trials. Not all of which are easy to come out the other side alive.

  “The Black Blood Coven,” he answers, knowing this is my Achilles heel.

  Motherfucker!

  Connelly

  These blood sucking zombies killed my clan! I’m chained up to a wall like a sacrificial lamb. Every bite that has been inflicted upon my body has been healed by my wolf. She’s pissed; she’s demanding revenge not only for my family’s loss, but for my deplorable treatment. I have a spiked collar around my neck preventing me from shifting, tearing their heads from their bodies, and breaking free of my chains. A feeder just left me; I feel weak from my involuntary offering.

  “Here, here, child.” A lady, if you can call her that, comes up to me, and washes the leftover blood off of my arm.

  “Why?” I ask her, as a stray tear falls free from my lids.

  “I’ve tried to change their ways of thinking. They never listen to me; I have no control anymore. I’m so sorry, child.”

  “Connelly.”

  “I’m sorry, Connelly. My name is Charisma, and I’m going to do everything I can to set you free. I’ve sent out messages to other covens, and clans, who are of the same way of thinking as I am.”

 

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