This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and her crazy friends. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It cannot be re-sold, reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2016 Stacey Marie Brown
All rights reserved.
Cover by Aliva at White Rabbit Book Design
Developmental Editor Jordan Rosenfeld
Edited by Hollie
Layout by www.formatting4U.com
Also By Stacey Marie Brown
Darkness of Light
(Darkness Series #1)
Fire in the Darkness
(Darkness Series #2)
Beast in the Darkness
(An Elighan Dragen Novelette)
Dwellers of Darkness
(Darkness Series #3)
Blood Beyond Darkness
(Darkness Series #4)
City in Embers
(Collector Series #1)
The Barrier Between
(Collector Series #2)
Across the Divide
(Collector Series #3)
From Burning Ashes
(Collector Series #4)
Dedicated To:
Coffee, Starbucks, and some unknown hot guy from the Internet. Without you three, I would be impossibly cranky with no place to work and no hot guy to think about while writing. (Who, if he knew what I was picturing him doing, would have a restraining order against me).
Thank you hot guy!
And to all you who picture him along with me…
You. Are. Welcome.
Table of Contents
Also by Stacey Marie Brown
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Kennedy’s Story
Acknowledgments
About The Author
I glanced over my shoulder. Six boar shape-shifters the size of small horses, with several sets of spearing tusks and tails with razors at the tips, charged out of the warehouse and headed for us. The bastards were as ugly as they were fast. They were gaining on us. Quickly.
Cooper, I yelled to my Second through our link, the dwellers’ way of communicating. Hurry up.
Then make this thing go faster, Cooper shot back through the link.
I thumbed the throttle to accelerate. The bike puttered and jerked forward, finally hitting the speed of a golf cart.
“Goddamn piece of shit,” I mumbled under my breath. I missed my Harley. Badly. But since the worlds crashed together and magic flooded Earth, the normal machines no longer worked. This piece of crap was an Otherworld version of a motorbike. Now with the Otherworld and Earth joined, I lamented how “humanized” I had become. I missed so many things: the vibrating of my sleek black bike between my legs, the roar of the engine, the speed it could reach twisting you around a curve. Fae had superior talents in many areas, but building motorcycles wasn’t one of them.
Normally, a bunch of shape-shifters wouldn’t be a challenge. No more than an annoying gnat. But with this piece of junk, they easily gained on us, their eyes glowing as they neared. I would have said Screw it, changed into my Dark Dweller form, and outrun them in a second, but... A lump of fear blocked my thoughts from continuing. Surely it was only temporary. My Dark Dweller would return.
I growled under my breath and pushed the accelerator again. Anger burst up my spine, and I stooped lower over my ride. We were in this shit because of me. It was my fault these guys even had a chance in hell to catch up. I was the weak link in the pack. The third-in-command of the feared Dark Dwellers was a kitten without claws.
Another growl climbed up my throat.
Fuck this. Shift and stop these assholes. I’ll take the merchandise back, I grumbled to Cooper. Now that Eli had stepped down and left with Ember, Cooper was our new Second under Cole Donovan. We had lost quite a few of our family members in the big battle, and none of us were ready to deal with that now, if ever. Especially Jared. I quickly purged his image from my head. The loss of our youngest was too painful, rotting in my core.
Cooper turned to peer at me over his shoulder. You sure, man?
I shrugged lazily. Yeah. I hoped acting as if I didn’t care would eventually make it so, but the pain was always there if I stopped to notice it. I did shift once during the war against Aneira, the previous Seelie Queen, but I didn’t let on how much it hurt and how hard it was for me to stay in beast shape. Something was wrong. The Dark Dweller in me used to be dominant, but now I struggled to let it out. I hadn’t told any of the pack, but I knew they could sense something was off about me. I no longer went on hunts, and I made excuses for why I didn’t turn when we fought other fae. My temper was short, and I hardly stayed around the house anymore.
Cooper threw me the wrapped article, and I added it to the several items already in the front of my two-wheel, magic-operated bike. The SUV Lars loaned us to use for the last run was at the bottom of a ravine—on purpose. That thing was even worse than the go-carts we were using now.
Coop shifted as he jumped from the bike. The pathetic excuse for a motorcycle hit a tree and fell to the ground. His clothes shredded into pieces and long talons replaced his human nails. Spikes grew rigid along his back, his eyes turned red, and his skin became sleek black fur. His Dark Dweller form hit the pavement facing the fae trailing us. A deep roar from Cooper vibrated my skin as he leaped for the pursuers.
I kept my head forward. My irritation felt like a hot poker in my chest. I wasn’t mad at Cooper, but that didn’t stop my resentment.
I finally turned the bike onto Lars’s property line, stopping at the twenty-foot gates. The protection spells were securely in place, searing the atmosphere in a dense bubble. Internally it created an unease, making you want to turn around and head the opposite way. Humans would without realizing why, but as fae I could push past it. I leaned over and slammed the buzzer.
The Riders of Darkness were now partners with the Unseelie King. With the ROD’s status and skills, we learned to live on Earth as a biker gang, which was a perfect fit for us. In the past we ran and traded a lot of illegal items as a source of income. Our current job wasn’t much different.
Today Cooper and I had “retrieved” several objects Lars’s lab and technical advisers needed. We inspired fear in Dark and Light fae alike, which created a perfect retrieval system for Lars. Because most of the items we sought people didn’t give up willingly, we could get them easier than he could. We were efficient, fast, and direct. Our reputation compelled some people to bring items to us the moment they saw us riding up.
An enormous man stepped from the trees on the side driveway, his chocolate skin almost blending i
n with the shadows. “Hey, R-Man.” I smiled slyly as he grimaced at my pet name for him. Blame Eli. He started it. “Another delivery.” I motioned to the container holding the artifacts.
“Password.” Rimmon’s voice was more rumble than speech. The man, even to me, was a scary motherfucker—bald, arms the size of toddlers, a face so stern and ugly it caused most people to run away in fear. You’d think with his mass he would fight like a huge grizzly bear, but the man was like a freakin’ cheetah.
“Seriously? Come on, man. I’ve already been here twice today.”
“Password.” Rimmon folded his arms over his huge, bare chest. His pants were a patchwork of a dozen khakis sewn together. There were no “regular” clothes that would fit him. He had to be part ogre.
“West is super sexy?” I grinned.
Rimmon’s lids narrowed. I took joy in vexing the large man.
“No? Not that one?” I shrugged. “You’re right, too obvious and easy to guess.”
“Password, Dark Dweller, or I leave you standing here with your dick in your hands.” The glint in his eyes led me to believe my dick would no longer be attached.
“You must be fun on game night.”
Rimmon started to pivot on his heels.
“Fine.” The instant I uttered the words, the spell released its hold, and Rimmon unlocked the gates, opening them for me. When I pushed the back tires across the line, the spell snapped back into place, sealing us into the safety of the Unseelie King’s property.
The vast English-style manor came into view as I curved around the second bend in the road. The figure of a woman stood outlined on the front stoop, her dark brown hair tied in a loose bun, showing off her high cheekbones and beautiful swanlike neck. Her slender arms were crossed, and her full bowed lips puckered up, looking way too inviting for their own good. The only “flaw” in her beauty was a frown furrowing her sculpted brows. Goddamn, she was stunning.
“I don’t know why you provoke him. You know one of these times he’s going to ignore Lars’s instructions and kick the crap out of you,” the woman said. Her voice was like the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. She could tell you to fuck off, and you would do it willingly in the hopes you could hear her speak again or get one more look at her beautiful face.
I’d spent quite a bit of time at this house when we were preparing for war with the former Seelie Queen. You’d think by now I’d be used to Rez, but her beauty was not something you ever got immune to.
She was a siren, the Unseelie King’s mistress, and someone I needed to stay far, far away from. This was actually not a problem for me. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed ladies. All kinds. But I kept them at a distance. It was easier that way. I was a good flirt, a great charmer. Better than all my brothers. But I never let women get close.
Dark Dwellers were secretive by nature, and our group was even more private since we had been banished to Earth. I slipped once and let someone in—completely. I would never make the mistake again.
“You know me.” I grinned at her and stepped onto the stoop. She took a step back, peering up at me with her dark, penetrating eyes. “I am more afraid you will kick my ass, darlin’.”
“Which is entirely possible.” Her lips twitched with the need to smile, but she kept hold of them. “Come on; he’s waiting for you.” Rez looked behind me. “Where’s Cooper?”
“Got held up.” I gathered the items into my arms and followed her to Lars’s office. He never left us Dark Dwellers unattended in the house. He was probably afraid one of us would pee on his thousand-dollar rug.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped out of Lars’s office a little while later. He tolerated us since he needed us, and we were connected to him because of Ember, but the Unseelie King was still not the most comfortable person to be around. He remained a demon down under the king title. Cole and Eli seemed to get along with him all right, but I preferred being on the opposite side of the door, on my way to Mike’s Bar, or somewhere I felt more relaxed.
“You already done?” Rez’s voice slid silkily through the hallway. She stepped from the kitchen and leaned against the doorway.
“Yeah.” I grinned and stopped in front of her. Her style was classic and simple, and she always looked put together. Even with bare feet, black yoga pants, an off-white long-sleeved top, and her hair in a bun, she looked amazing. This was the most casually dressed I’d seen her, and I liked it. Compared to her, I still felt dingy in my scruffy boots, jeans, and T-shirt.
“I was off to do yoga downstairs.” She tugged at her top. I thought it cute she felt she had to explain her relaxed appearance. I guess a siren didn’t let many people see her in exercise pants.
“You want something to eat before you go?” She pointed over her shoulder. “Once again, Marguerite made too much for dinner. She’s used to making meals for more of us...” Rez’s voice broke off, and she looked at her feet. A shadow of feeling flickered over her face.
I understood that look and knew immediately what it meant. I’d seen it too many times on my own family members. In war you understand people are going to die, but you are never ready when it takes your own. They lost two of theirs in the fighting, and we lost four. I would never get accustomed to the emptiness.
Rez’s cream-colored top slipped slightly off her shoulder as she bent and dabbed at her eyes. My gaze trailed down the curve of her neck and over her shoulder. She sucked in air and adjusted her petite frame straighter, pushing away any signs of grief. I was accosted by an overwhelming urge to reach out and pull her into my arms, to shield her from pain in the hope it might take mine away. I took a step back and clenched my hands into fists.
What the hell? Charming and flirty was one thing, but I hadn’t felt protective over a woman not part of my family in ages. Ember had been the first, but she had been safe from the beginning. Even before Eli realized it, all of us could feel him claiming her. As soon as he gave her his blood, she was one of us. When she became family, protecting her came with the territory. I told myself now my impulse to protect Rez had nothing to do with her personally. It was a reaction to the family we both lost.
“I’ve seen you eat.” She reached for my arm. “Please, do us a favor so we don’t have to eat venison stew for the next three nights.”
I glanced down at her elegant fingers, then quickly looked at her face. A grin twitched at my mouth. “You know I can’t turn down Marguerite’s cookin’.” Her food was unbelievable. Probably the best cook I’d ever come across since my time in the south. It wasn’t shocking she’d be working for the Unseelie King. Though she was human, she was a seer and had known about the fae since she was little and had started working for Lars soon after. Everyone here treated her like family, and she returned the love in kind.
“Oh, Mr. West. Venir y comer.” Marguerite came up behind Rez, her arms open to welcome me. The woman stood barely five foot, but her aura was so full of love and force you forgot how tiny she was. When she got angry or scolded us, we Dark Dwellers bowed our heads in guilt and shame. Ember told me one time she threw Marguerite over her shoulder by accident, and the woman popped up, tsked her, and continued on with the laundry. Strong and fierce. All the women here were.
“Hello, mamacita,” I said as she pulled me down in a hug.
When she drew back, her gaze was critical. “¿Su triste?” She patted my cheek.
“Never sad when you’re around.” I winked.
“Oh.” A blush crawled up her neck, coloring her cheeks. She swished her hand at me and turned back to the stove. She shoveled a mound of stew into a bowl, adding a slab of cornbread on a plate. “Come. Eat.”
Rez stepped to the side, motioning me to the huge island.
“I’m all right if you want to continue on with what you were doin’, sweetheart.” I stepped past her, giving one of my typical side grins.
She studied me. Her brown eyes dug so deep into me, my smile dropped. “What?”
She tilted her head. “Are you ever not on?”<
br />
“What are you talking about, darlin’?”
“That.” She lifted her hand, motioning at me. “All the put-on charm and schmoozing. Don’t you ever get tired of doing it? Pretending you’re all right?”
It felt as if she had shoved me hard in the chest. I blinked.
She crossed her arms, holding her chin up in a challenge. Damn! She was more like Ember than I thought, although Ember hadn’t seen through me this quickly. I wouldn’t allow Rez either. She was an itch that didn’t need to be scratched.
“Has it ever not worked?” Her eyebrows went up.
I widened my stance and folded my arms over my chest, a smirk pulling up one side of my mouth. “No.”
A flutter of annoyance wavered over her features. “Says a lot about the type of girls you go after.”
“I don’t go after them, darlin’. They come to me.” I turned away from Rez and moved to the counter and sat where Marguerite set my food.
Rez’s lips parted, ready to respond, but they drew back together. With a shake of her head and a mumble, she departed the room, leaving Marguerite and me alone. Marguerite leaned over the counter and patted my hand before she turned to finish cleaning the stove.
I stared at my bowl, holding my spoon midair.
My shoulders drew in, suddenly tense. Who was Rez to talk about being real? Was her life here authentic? Wasn’t she a glorified secretary to Lars, who treated her more like an employee than someone who slept in his bed every night? The sweet den mom at Camp Demon, who went out and dragged men to their deaths on the weekend? Yeah. Who’s the one pretending to be all right?
I slammed the spoon on the counter, no longer hungry, and stormed out. I could hear Marguerite calling after me, but I was in no mood to be cordial, and she didn’t deserve this West—the angry, violent version.
Rez wants fuckin’ real? I crashed through the front door, bypassing the stupid Otherworld bike slumped on the ground. I itched to change—to become what I was meant to be: a ruthless killer, something to be truly feared, no pretense or appeal.
West (A Darkness Series Novel) Page 1