by Charlie Hart
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
Their Mate
Daughters of Olympus
Charlie Hart
Anastasia James
Contents
Introduction
Copyright
BEFORE
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
Epilogue
AFTER
Also by Charlie Hart
Preview of Protecting
Also by Anastasia James
Preview of Chosen
Introduction
Daughters Of Olympus is a five book, paranormal romance, reverse harem series coming in the winter of 2017…
Land. Sky. Sea. Underworld.
All four are at odds—and only the Daughters of Olympus can bring them together to save mankind.
They may have ancient blood coursing through their veins, but in their hearts they are everyday women struggling to survive … not knowing how to harness their potential.
Love is the last thing on their minds. But the seductive men sent to guide them have no doubt in their ability.
It might sound good in theory … but these women don’t know one another, let alone their hidden talents.
Now they must rise up and claim their rightful place in history, with the men sworn to protect them.
The fight is on.
Copyright
JOIN CHARLIE HART’S
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And find Charlie on FB!
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JOIN ANASTASIA JAME’S
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❤❤❤❤
Edited by
Teresa Banschbach
ICanEdit4U
Copyright © and 2017 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
BEFORE
Life unfolded in a way that broke me, crushing my dreams in one fell swoop.
The dreams had been so sweet, so true—born from love that was pure.
But that love was destroyed, turned to something ruinous.
Are you, daughter, ruined too?
All my girls have been dealt a hand no mother would ever choose.
But you may have been given the harshest blow.
Your veins run with blood forged with fury.
Your heart beats for revenge before it beats for mercy.
When this battle begins I fear for you.
Your bones and marrow hum a song that only vengeance sings.
But you, daughter of Olympus, can learn another tune.
The song of my heart.
Do you hear it?
Chapter 1
Remedy
The bakery owner is on my ass and not in a sexy way. It’s a run-for-my-life-so-I-don’t-get-caught-stealing kinda way. Pretty much worst-case scenario, which is saying something considering I’ve been living on the streets for the last year.
“Stop,” he calls after me as I book it up a steep Seattle hill. Why I ever decided to try to make a go of it here in this rained-out, gray city is beyond me. If it weren’t for my steel-toed combat boots my feet would be waterlogged 24/7. “I’ll call the cops!”
I snort through my gritted teeth. Like hell am I gonna stop now. Pulling my backpack straps tighter, I keep pushing through, side ache and all. I knew I was playing with fire, camping out in the back room of a bakery I had no business being in, but I was desperate. There was a wild storm last night and I needed cover.
Looking over my shoulder, I see I’ve lost the poor guy. I’ve always been good at running, and it’s come in handy more often than I like. Muttering suck it under my breath, I dodge down an alley, leaning against a brick building as I catch my breath.
I come from the school of hard knocks, and know a thing or three about pulling up my bootstraps—but I am eerily close to rock bottom, I feel it in my bones. Reaching into my backpack, I pull out the still-warm baguette I grabbed as I fled the scene. I cradle the freshly baked bread in my arms like it’s a freaking baby. I mean, this loaf is just as precious as a child, considering I haven’t had a proper meal in a helluva long time.
The shelter downtown doesn’t exactly let me come around anymore.
Taking a bite of breakfast, I roll my eyes at the memory of that freaking place. I had every right to call them out on their bullshit. They turned a kid away because he’d already gotten his one hot meal for the day and tried to get another. What was the kid supposed to do? He must have been fourteen. I felt for him, mostly because I’ve been in survival mode for a long-ass time—I knew where that kid was coming from. When I gave him my bowl of chili and made a huge scene, using a few R-rated words, I was shown the door.
Fuck You Fucking Gatekeepers.
Okay, so I don’t have what you’d call a tame tongue or a great handle on how to please people, but why would I?
I finish the bread as I walk toward the Seattle Public Library. It’s warm, has free wi-fi, and a bathroom that doesn’t smell like urine. As I head down Pine, construction workers whistle, giving me catcalls.. I flip the middle finger and keep walking, knowing they’re staring at my ass as I move. It isn’t flattering—it’s just fucking gross. A block later a guy in a business suit looks me up and down, as if memorizing my curves, and I scoff as I pass him. I may be at the end of my rope in a lot of ways, but my body is mine—no one else’s. And I’m not sharing any of it unless the man in question is someone I actually want.
Finally, I see the massive glass structure of the library and I exhale a sigh of relief. No matter how shitty the world at large may be, inside these walls I am safe. Pushing through the doors of the library, I wave at the clerk working the front desk.
“Morning, Remedy,” Diana says, giving me a tight smile and handing me a slip of paper with today’s wi-fi password on it. “Let’s make sure we remember library policy today, okay?”
I raise my brows and give her a smirk, which is really the best I can manage. It may be nine a.m., but I was on edge all night, scared I’d get caught for breaking and entering. A steaming cup of coffee would perk me right up, but that’s a luxury I gave up a long time ago.
I head straight for the bathroom, and th
en pull out my toothbrush and comb, and set to cleaning myself up before some creeper comes in here and starts harassing me. This may be a library, but it attracts a lot of people like me, people who are really fucking screwed. I run the comb through my long red hair, then lock the stall door and change my clothes. I shimmy out of yesterday’s jeans and tug off the tank top I’ve been wearing for a few days. My breasts strain against the sweater I pull on and my hips push against the denim of my clean(ish) jeans. My boobs are barely contained in the sports bra I’m rocking, but I try to play down my curves, which isn’t easy for a newly minted twenty-one-year-old. And though my body may get the attention of men more than I like, I’m grateful to be healthy.
In the last row of the computers, I slide into a cold metal chair and shove my backpack under my feet. I log in and exhale. I may not have my shit together, but I am actively looking for something more than what I currently have. I can only blame my situation on growing up in foster care for so long. I am considering community college, but I am totally unprepared for the workload. I’ve been doing this Khan Academy bullshit to try and remind myself how to, like, do long division. I know. I could have tried harder in high school or whatever, but back then I was just trying to survive. It’s been my mode of operation my whole damn life.
And honestly, I am tired of being on the run. Looking for somewhere to land when the truth is, I have exactly no one. Never really have. If I just had one friend, one family member—anyone—then maybe things wouldn’t be so hard.
Before I log in to work on my ABCs, I check email. When I see a new message—something other than spam for Viagra or refinancing the house I’ll never own. It’s from Sadie.
My hands get sweaty—which, I know, super sexy.
To: [email protected]… clever, right? But I made this email account when I was eleven, okay? Guess I’ve always had a chip on my shoulder.
Remedy,
Not sure if this is your email anymore. It’s been so long. Call me if you get this. I’ve been going through some old stuff and found a box of yours that I’ve saved all this time. Hope you’re doing okay.
Love you like always, Sadie
She leaves her number after her name and I immediately write it down. What was I literally just saying I needed? A freaking lifeline.
I log off and grab my bag, the piece of paper in my hand. At the front desk, I ask the clerk, with as much sweetness as I can muster, to use the phone.
“It’s not a public phone, Remedy.”
“I know. It’s really important. I promise.”
My tone must reveal something because she pulls the landline up to the counter and tells me to dial three before I enter the number.
Pulling out the paper, I carefully enter the numbers. Truth is, Sadie is the closest thing to family I have ever had.
“Hello?” A voice I’d know anywhere comes through the line.
“Hey, it’s Rem,” I tell her, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I got your email.”
The line is silent and for a moment I wonder if the memories I have of Sadie and me, both ten, sharing a bed in the basement of our foster home. We pinky swore we would always look out for one another. Always.
We haven’t talked in over three years.
“Rem. Wow. Is it really you?”
“Yeah, the one and only.”
“Where are you living?” she asks. “Last I heard you were going to art school in California.”
“Yeah, that didn’t happen. Kinda floating around right now.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry college didn’t happen, Rem.” Her voice is soft—Sadie always was the tender one. The yin to my yang, or whatever.
“It’s cool,” I say, swallowing the memories of getting kicked out of art school a semester in. It’s always been me against the world.
I wonder if I’ll ever outgrow the need to fight against the things I want the most? Self-sabotage is my bread and butter.
“So, when you say floating? What do you mean?”
I look up at the clerk who is doing a terrible job of ignoring me.
“Well, I don’t have a place to live, exactly. I’m in Seattle and… yeah. I’m trying to keep my chin, up, ya know? Keep on…”
“Keepin’ on,” she finishes for me. “Hey, if you’re trying to get your life together, come up to Alaska for a few months. I’d love to see you. I’m in Ketchikan, living with my boyfriend, Ray. We have an empty couch with your name on it.”
“Alaska?” I smile. “I’m not surprised. You always wanted to travel.” My heart warms at the idea of Sadie living the life she always wanted. “I could stay with you, really?” I don’t mention that I have no ideal how the hell I would ever get up there.
“Of course. It would be so good, like old times.”
I frown, having a hard time separating the good from the bad.
Old times revolved around our bitch of a foster mom forcing Sadie to clean the house, watch her kids—every job she was too lazy to do herself. Old times revolved around me getting sick of watching my best friend get treated like yesterday’s trash.
Old times revolved around me taking matters into my own hands.
No surprise I’ve been on my own since I was twelve.
“Want my address? You can take a ferry from Bellingham. Do it, Rem. It would be amazing.”
It feels good to pretend, if even just for this phone call.
“Okay, Sadie, I’ll come.”
Chapter 2
Remedy
I hang up with a smile on my face. Which is apparently shocking because the clerk, Diana, asks me who that was.
I don’t do personal, yet somehow, I find myself telling her about Sadie. About how we grew up in foster care. About her offer.
“Can I help?” Diana asks, already pulling something up on her computer.
“With what?” I give her a cynical stare. I know the price of help.
“With the fare. I could get you a ticket, Remedy.”
“Why?”
She tilts her head, gives a sad sigh as if she thinks I have no clue. Which, maybe I don’t. I don’t know much about generosity.
“Because everyone needs a little help sometimes.”
A few days later, I find myself leaning against the kitchen counter in Sadie’s one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Ketchikan. After a bus ride from Seattle to Bellingham, I boarded a ferry bound for the Southern tip of Alaska. And amazingly, two days later, here I am, watching my oldest, and only, friend mix a bottle of red sauce into a pot of spaghetti noodles.
“It smells so good,” I groan. Diana spotted me a hundred dollars to pay for food and any necessities on my trip, but I was frugal—wanting a few extra bucks in my pocket, in case of an emergency, more than I wanted food from the ferry’s restaurant. I’d bought a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter and made due.
Sadie shakes her head like I’m crazy. “It’s just pasta sauce from a jar.” Her pale blue eyes are rimmed with dark circles and I can’t help but wonder what keeps her up at night.
“And garlic bread,” I note, as she pushes up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to grab the silver-bagged loaf from the oven. As she moves, I see her exposed wrists. Dark bruises punctuate her fair skin.
“When’s the last time you had a hot meal?” she asks.
I swallow, not exactly wanting Sadie to know how long I’d been on the streets. “Too long.”
She pours herself a glass of water, the sink leaking even after she turns it off. “Gah, I need to get that fixed.”
“Any cute repairmen in town?”
She blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s a guy, Jim, who does repairs for the apartment complex.”
I frown. “Can’t your boyfriend help?”
Sadie sighs. “Ray’s always busy.”
Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “But Jim?”
She waves a hand in the air, brushing me off. Thinking about Jim made her happy, if even for a split second. I want to know
if Ray gets the same reaction.
“So, when do I get to meet your boyfriend?”
She presses her lips together. “Ray will be home any minute. He works at an auto shop in Ketchikan.”
“And where did you guys meet? I mean, how did you end up in Alaska?”
“I worked for a cruise line that came up here, which was a pretty good job. Then I met Ray when we were at a port, and well, I quit. He likes me to stay close to him.”
I squint my eyes. “And what do you like, Sadie?”
“It’s not like that. I got a job at the Stop N Save. Being a cashier is a good job.”
“But you always wanted to see the world. Why would you quit the cruise line job?”
Sadie shakes her head, then grabs three plates from the cupboard and starts setting the small dinette table. “Are you going to lecture me about quitting? Because, Rem, you aren’t really in a position to talk.”
I grab the green can of Parmesan cheese and set it on the table. “Fair enough. I just… I want you to be happy. We’ve been through enough, you know?”
“I am happy,” she says softly.
In the small kitchen, we’re face-to-face. “Really?”
She gives me what seems to be a forced smile. “Really.”
Knowing that pressing too hard never gets results, I back off. Looking out the kitchen window I see that the apartment complex is next to a thick forest.