The Garrison (The Circle Series Book 3)

by Naomi L Scudder

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  The Garrison

  Naomi L Scudder

  Copyright © 2017 Naomi L Scudder

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To my husband, who lovingly tells me everyday that I am beautiful and that I can do this.

  Also, to Olivia, who’s name and style I appropriated without her permission (hope this makes up for it)

  1

  Jane

  The vamp’s teeth sunk into Jane’s neck, her back arched, fingers grabbing at his shoulders as the happy-making neurotoxins rushed into her bloodstream. She moaned, closing her eyes as the euphoric tingles and waves of electricity washed over her.

  Jane grabbed the back of the vamp’s neck when he pulled away. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  Theron obliged. Theron always obliged Jane.

  It was a strange dynamic — the witch and the vampire. Theron needed blood and Jane, well, Jane didn’t actually need anything. The demon residing within her on the other hand, needed to feed off a very particular kind of energy or else shit got out of control real quick.

  Jane had the demon on a strict diet. Once a week Jane gave the demon her favorite “food”, vamp energy. Vamp sexual energy to be exact, the most potent kind.

  It kept her sated and quiet, mostly.

  Jane slid her panties down her legs and tugged at Theron’s belt who in turn unbuckled it and had his pants on the ground before Jane could blink. He picked her up, pressing her back against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Jane’s eyes went all black as the demon bound to her soul feasted. Jane rocked her hips, as much as she could pinned between a vamp and the wall of their feeding room, and let the demon drink her fill.

  As soon as Jane sensed the demon’s well was full, she slammed down the metaphysical wall keeping their energies separate. She checked the tattoo on her upper arm just to be certain. The Ouroboros was still and unmoving. Just how she liked it.

  Jane’s heart rate slowed, and her eyes cleared back to her natural pale green as she looked at Theron.

  “Do you want to keep going?” he asked.

  That question, that deep understanding of her situation was why she kept coming back to Theron. The ancient vamp had his fair share of personality flaws, not the least of which was an unending and morose ennui — natural given he’d seen and done everything there is to see and do. But he never tried to make them more than what they were, and always respected the fact that while the demon Jane housed needed to fuck, Jane might not.

  Jane brushed the hair from her vamp’s violet colored eyes and patted his cheek. “Not today, Theron. I’ve got to meet Zora, like now.”

  The vamp withdrew, set Jane’s slight frame back on the ground and redressed so quickly he blurred in front of the witch’s eyes.

  “Oh yeah? What’s she up to?” The vamp asked with a genuine tone Jane noticed he only used with her. He settled himself comfortably on the poster bed, sinking into the down duvet as he watched Jane pull her panties back up and adjust her skirt to face front again.

  “She didn’t say. She just said it was important that she sees me today.”

  Theron nodded. “Which car do you want to take?”

  “Oh, Xan isn’t here? I thought she could drive me.”

  Theron cleared his throat. “Xandrie had something she needs to take care of. I wouldn’t expect to see her much.” The vampire looked so uncomfortable Jane didn’t press him further. Still, she didn’t like the idea of driving herself.

  She’d only gotten her license three weeks ago. One of the many problems with being imprisoned by a monster who kept women as captive feeding cattle. It was why she’d had a demon shoved in her in the first place, to keep that asshole sated. She’d only escaped a few months ago, and it was also why she’d just gotten her license at twenty-four years old.

  “What’s the slowest one?”

  Theron grinned at her, an expression she rarely saw on his preternaturally beautiful face. “None of my cars are slow, Janey.”

  Jane sighed. “Well, what’s the most boring, one I won’t accidentally kill myself in?”

  “None of my cars—”

  “Cut the shit, Theron! Which has the least low-end torque? Which has the softest suspension? One that’s not so stiff it tries to bounce me out of my seat. And preferably one that doesn’t rev so loud I can’t hear my own thoughts.”

  Theron laughed, a musical, beautiful sound all vampires shared. And even though Jane knew he was laughing at her, it was nice to see him laughing.

  The vamp had taught her to drive. Theron had also taught her the finer points of auto design and appreciation. Jane was all for nice workmanship and fast cars, but not when she had to drive.

  “Damnit, Theron. Do you know how guilty I’d feel if I wrecked your Ferrari? Or the McLeran?”

  2

  Jane

  Theron was no help so Jane went to the temperature controlled, glass-walled garage by herself.

  Of all the cars in the vamp’s garage, Jane picked the most sensible, least aggressive looking. No wild spoilers or crazy neon colors. She picked what looked like an average, albeit extremely high-end, black wagon.

  “This looks tame enough. Like something a really rich soccer mom would drive,” she said as she found the keys on the wall and buckled herself into the driver’s seat.

  She tapped the button to open the bay door and turned over the engine. “It doesn’t sound too powerful,” she said as the low, smooth purr of the engine filled the garage. Jane checked her mirrors, fumbled around the steering column for a moment as she figured out where turn signals, wipers, and everything else was and put the car in gear.

  She let off the clutch, barely kissed the accelerator with her tippy toe, and Jane shot out of the garage like a bat out of hell.

  “FUCK!” she screamed as she white-knuckled the wheel. The car had so much power and lurched forward so fast, Jane could barely keep up with the gear changes.

  The steep, windy driveway leading into the woods was, on a good day, narrow and unnerving. In the middle of the night, it was also as dark as Jane’s own demon eyes. She tried to downshift as a steep curve came into view, but she missed the notch and the grinding sound of gears mashing made Jane curse again. “I’m not gonna wreck this stupid car!” she yelled and finally popped the stick into the proper gear.

  She tried to regain her composure and remember everything Theron taught her.

  Look as far ahead possible. Don’t over-correct, only short, incremental, adjustments. Don’t think. Just drive. Don’t think. Just drive.

  Jane didn’t relax until she could see the sign above Zora’s bar.

  In her excitement to end the
car ride from hell, she turned a little too hard into the parking lot but she recovered and guided the wagon into an open spot.

  She let out a great sigh and let go of the wheel. Jane also let off the clutch which cut the engine in a sputtering stall that would have been embarrassing if there’d been other people around.

  Jane shook her head. “Whatever. We made it,” she said just as much to the car as to herself as she got out.

  “Picked the wagon, huh?” a pastry-laden Xandrie said as Jane approached the entrance to the only bar in the area serving every type of magically inclined person.

  “That thing almost killed me!” she said and ran to the door propping it open for Xan. Jane followed her fae friend and sometimes chauffeur inside The Laughing Cat.

  “It’s not for the faint of heart. You picked the RS6. It goes zero to sixty in something like three seconds, babe.”

  “My two favorite ladies,” said Zora from behind the bar. “Come on in. Xan, put the pastry boxes right there, yeah that’s it. Let me have a peek at them.” The dark haired gypsy rubbed her hands together like a chubby kid as Xandrie opened the first box for her perusal. “Jane, would you mind locking the door behind you? I am officially closed for the night.”

  She locked the door and while Zora busied herself inspecting the baked goods Jane whispered to Xan. “Theron said you had something?” Zora sampled two, sometimes three charmed pastries from each box. “He said not to expect you around for a while.”

  “What?” Crumbs and the smallest gob of icing fell from Zora’s mouth. “What do you mean, my customers love these things. Hell, I love these things! You can’t disappear on me.”

  “That little shit. I told him not to say anything.” The blue-haired fae slumped into the nearest barstool. Her innate fae poise made the slump look less like poor posture and more like an editorial fashion pose. Xandrie Kovak dripped refinement with each movement, every breath. Tall and lean with regal, highborn fae features, Xan caught the eye of everyone, male or female. She was intimidatingly beautiful, but she made up for it in spades by being the coolest person Jane had ever met.

  Not that Jane wasn’t attractive in her own right. But petite and slim with a slight goth lean to her style sense could never compete with a goddamn fairy princess.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I just... I have to renounce my crown again,” she said with a dismissive but elegant wave of her hand.

  This time an entire unchewed bite of petite four fell from Zora’s open mouth. “Your what?”

  Jane just laughed. Hard. Really hard. She actually slapped her knees, hard. “You mean, all those jokes, and you’re actually real fae royalty?”

  Xandrie nodded. “I don’t like telling people. They treat me differently once they know.”

  Jane hugged her friend’s shoulder. “Is that why you’re so good at putting charms in your pastries? Royal secrets?”

  Xan looked offended. “No. I’m good because I’m good. Speaking of which, Zora are you going to save any for your customers?”

  The tall and curvy gypsy licked her middle finger and then flipped it at Xandrie.

  Zora was another beautiful one, but in an exotic, and overtly sexual way. Dark curls fell around ivory skin and icy blue eyes added to her strange mishmash of attractive features. As Jane understood it, Zora Joutsen was half Nordic and half Roma, one of the many ethnic groups claiming the word “gypsy” was a slur.

  At barely over five feet, Jane’s friends towered over her.

  “That is actually why I asked you to meet me, Jane.”

  “Your addiction to Xan’s magical pastries?” Jane asked.

  Xan laughed. “Yeah, you’re looking a little curvier than normal, right around there.” Xan motioned to Zora’s slightly rounded belly.

  Zora shrugged. “I can’t help it. I’m doing everything in excess recently. But I think Jane can help me out with that.”

  “Sure, what do ya need?”

  Zora bit her lip. “I don’t have—I mean, well,” the gypsy sighed and started again. “Since Amari died I don’t have an outlet for my particular magic. I tried taking care of it myself, you won’t believe the assortment of gadgets I’ve amassed, but that never does the trick for long. It’s gotten out of hand. I’m eating everything in sight, trying to sate it with other forms of pleasure, but it just won’t settle down. Do you think, I mean, could you help me?”

  Jane shifted under the weight of Zora’s hopeful stare. “I’m not sure how I can help. I’m not even sure what you’re asking me, if I’m honest.”

  Xan piped up. “Zora’s got gypsy sex mojo and she needs to release it...um...sexually.”

  “Oh. OH! Well, I mean, I’m flattered but I’m pretty straight.”

  “Gods! No! I’m not coming on to you!”

  Xandrie laughed so hard she almost snorted, a very unroyal thing to do.

  “Oh. Well, what exactly are you asking me for, Zora?”

  “I was hoping your demon could take the edge off for me. Just kinda suck some of the extra away or something? Please?”

  Jane sighed with relief. For the moment at least. “I’m sorry. Taking energy that way physically hurts me, it’s not the demon’s preferred method, as you know. Plus, I’ve got her on a pretty tight feeding schedule, and she just had a meal.”

  Zora’s downcast eyes couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Isn’t there anything? You’re kinda my last hope here.” Just as the gypsy finished the sentence Jane noticed a significant rise in the ambient temperature.

  And it wasn’t just her. Xan shot her a look.

  “Zora?” the blue-haired fae said tentatively. “Are you OK? It’s getting pretty hot in here.”

  “Just gimme a second, I’ll get it under control.”

  Jane wasn’t so sure. She could feel the heat rolling off her friend’s body. “Zora, you’re gonna cook us, get it together. Now, please.”

  “Shit, fuck! I can’t, I’m sorry! DUCK!” she said as every bar glass behind her shattered.

  Xan and Jane dove beneath their barstools, covering their heads as glass shards rained down on them.

  “I’m sorry,” Zora said again as the last of the glasses shivered their way off the shelves. They crashed around her as Xan and Jane stood up. “I feel much better now.”

  “What the hell was that?!” Jane asked.

  Zora gave them both a sheepish smile. “I told you, it’s getting harder and harder to control, especially when my emotions get involved. Telling me you couldn’t help me was kind of the straw.”

  “Do you break your barware often?” Xandrie asked.

  “Not just barware,” she said as she vanished to the back of the bar. A moment later she reappeared with a broom. “It’s getting worse though. This is the most I’ve ever broken. Are you sure there’s nothing you can do, Jane?”

  Jane mulled it over for a moment. She wanted to help her friend, but she also wanted to keep as much separation between her and the demon as possible. Giving her extra meals and filling her well to over capacity wouldn’t exactly help her goal.

  “I’m sorry, Zora.”

  Zora sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

  Another glass, somehow not already broken, fell to the ground, drawing all three women’s attention.

  “What’s that?” Jane asked pointing to a sign she’d never seen in The Laughing Cat before.

  It read in bold block letters:

  ABSOLUTELY NO SHIFTERS ALLOWED.

  Since when? Jane thought to herself.

  “That? Yeah. I’m not proud of that. I did my best when Amari left the bar to me. I rebuilt it and was able to figure out most of the charms he had in place to keep everyone level-headed. But the wolves... I just couldn’t keep them from tearing into each other whenever a more than two were in the bar.”

  “So you banned them,” Xan said without a trace of judgment in her tone.

  “I’m not proud of it. I hate excluding them. It got scary though. And I was replacing that front window eve
ry other week because they just couldn’t resist throwing each other through it like they were in a goddamn saloon or something.”

  3

  Xandrie

  “While I would love to hang around and see what else you can explode, Zora,” Xandrie said, shaking the glass shards from her hair and clothes. “I still have a crown to renounce. I’ll catch you guys later.”

  “Yeah,” Jane said, checking the time. “I’m not getting any sleep tonight, I’ve gotta get to the cafe to open it.”

  “Great. OK, I guess I’ll just stay here and break my newly rebuilt bar my dead boyfriend left me.” Zora said.

  Xan and Jane exchanged a look.

  Zora sighed. “It’s fine, you have stuff to do. I’ll figure it out.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Jane with a winning smile, as she and Xan left The Laughing Cat.

  “I really do have to go before I’m late,” Xan said as an apology, stopping Jane from striking up small talk in the parking lot.

  “Sure no problem. Good luck.”

  The drive from The Circle to the hidden sidhe in the middle of Warren Forest was easy enough, especially since one of the perks of being Theron’s occasional chauffeur and willing blood donor was that Xan had her pick of all his delicious cars.

  Today she picked a Viper. The most dangerous car ever built, and certainly the most dangerous in Theron’s well-maintained collection. Renowned for its power and instability at high speeds, the car required an expert, level-headed driver and Xan was both of those.

  The pitch-black, dead-of-night forest was tinted blue as Xan’s fae eyes amped up her night vision. The trees, road, and the few deer Xan could see in her periphery were all outlined in a faint, wiggly blue light that made the whole world look like it was breathing.

  It also made driving such a beast of a car much easier.

  Xan pulled over and parked as Goose Island came into view. The island was so small only the geese could call it a home. The fae did so with magic. Moving through the brush without disturbing a leaf, or crunching on a single branch, Xan made her way to the sandy shore outlying the woods. She stared at the island as the slight current of the reservoir lapped against its shore, watching as the trees and earth breathed in harmony with the waves.