by Aliya DalRae
Sweet
Discovery
Aliya DalRae
Sweet Discovery Copyright © 2017 by Aliya DalRae
All rights reserved.
First Edition, 2017
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, organizations, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, locations, events or establishments is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Tempting Illustrations
Image Contributor conrado/Bigstock.com
Cover Formatting by Pink Ink Designs
ISBN: 1543011667
ISBN-13: 978-1543011661
For Kirk
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
So many people to thank!
To Angelica Mariano of Tempting Illustrations for once again pulling an image from my brain and making it fantastic.
To Cassandra Roop at Pink Ink Designs Co. for taking Gel’s image, pulling the cover together, and giving it its final glorious touches.
To my beta readers, Jessica, Renee, Sarah and Sue—your input was invaluable, and it was an incredible experience to see my book through your eyes.
To my friends and fellow Indie Writers, the fun and the FABulous, for all of your guidance and support. I only hope I can pay forward all of the help and advice I’ve received over the last year.
And To Kirk, my immortal beloved—
It’s been a wild ride.
I wouldn’t want to take it with anyone but you.
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
M andy Jenkins laughed as she and her friends left the bar, their high heels echoing in the relative quiet of the early morning hour. As clubs went, Good Times was no Peg Leg Chuck’s, but it was the best Fallen Cross had to offer. At least there was dancing, and boy, had they danced.
It always felt good to get out of the Polar King, the ice cream/burger joint her father owned in town, and where, based on her meager paycheck, she worked for slave wages. Daddy said she should feel lucky to have a guaranteed position in the family business. However, Mandy was young and pretty, and the idea of spending the rest of her life flipping burgers and swirling ice cream into cones for demanding children was just, well, depressing.
She had Friday night off for a change, and being able to join her friends and let her hair down a bit provided a much-needed break from the monotony. Never mind that it was in this podunk town where everyone knew everyone.
Only, she hadn’t recognized everyone tonight. That guy with the luscious, black mane and the sapphire eyes was definitely not from these parts. He wasn’t the kind of guy a girl would forget. Not only did he tower above everyone else in the club, but, damn he was hot.
She’d danced her way to where he lingered in the shadows, and lured him onto the hardwood floor. There, they had executed an erotic performance that still had her palms sweating and her heart beating in her nether regions.
The dance seemed unending, their movements adjusting to the changing tempos, the passion bouncing between them electric. When the music slowed, he pulled her into his muscular arms, and they swayed to the steady rhythm of the song, bodies hot and sweaty.
Mandy raised her arms to his shoulders, her fingers tangling in the silky locks of his hair, and he lowered his mouth to her neck. His breath on her skin was like fire and ice, and it sent tremors through her, right down to her toes.
When his teeth scraped her shoulder, she cinched her arms around his neck, her hips pressing into him of their own volition. His desire for her was unmistakable. He reached behind his neck, and when she felt his fingers tighten on her wrists she closed her eyes. The feel of his hands raising hers above her head, sliding down her arms, her waist, his fingers pausing briefly at the sides of her breasts, made her quiver.
She was lost in him, in the moment, and when he stepped away from her she could still feel his scorching breath on her flesh.
When she opened her eyes, he was gone.
Mandy searched the entire bar, but he’d simply vanished. Disappointment was a crushing blow, and it mu
ltiplied when it occurred to her she had never asked his name. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a word to her—hadn’t needed to. The looks they exchanged as they danced had said everything.
There was a connection between them, like they were meant for each other, fated, and she was desperate not to lose that. He was tall, dark and oh-my-God-handsome, and there was no way she could let him disappear on her like that. She’d find him again, somehow. If she had to come back here every night for the rest of her life and wait for him, she would find him.
With a dejected sigh, Mandy waved at Megan and Abby as her friends climbed into Megan’s car and drove off. She had been late tonight, having worked an earlier shift, and had to park a couple of blocks from the crowded bar. However, the autumn night was crisp, and the cool air helped soothe the heat that still burned through her body with each thought of the mysterious blue-eyed man.
Mandy paused mid-step as she considered the possibility that she may never see Mr. Wonderful again. Story of her life. Here was a guy who could have taken her away from this God-forsaken place—older, experienced—and gone in the blink of an eye.
Maybe she was being silly. Why in the world would someone like that want to run off with a small town girl like her anyway?
As her thoughts wandered, the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. It never occurred to her to be afraid. The bar was closing soon, and the nearby streets were busy with people making their way to their cars. Besides, this was Fallen Cross. Nothing bad ever happened here.
She looked over her shoulder to see if it was someone she knew, and nearly cheered with delight at the sight of her handsome stranger. Her heart skipped a beat, fluttering in anticipation. He came back! Fluffing her blonde curls, she turned to meet him.
“Hey, Blue Eyes,” she cooed. “I thought you’d left.”
“How could I leave something as precious as you behind?” His voice was deep and a little gruff with an accent she couldn’t place, and it vibrated through her, making that muscle in her chest work overtime.
He placed his palm on the side of her face, and she melted into his touch. His eyes, those amazing eyes, slid to the entrance of an alley ahead on the right, and a shiver slithered down her spine.
What had gotten into her? She didn’t even know this guy’s name, yet she was seriously considering going into that alley with him and doing whatever he wanted. He returned his gaze to hers, eyes intense, and she relaxed again.
But he was so amazing.
Mandy shook her head, her brain feeling fuzzy, though she didn’t recall drinking that much. He slid his hand down her back, resting it at the rise of her butt and making her tremble with anticipation. She stumbled as he guided her into the darkness, past the trash cans lined up behind the dry cleaner, and into the shadows of the alley’s farthest corner.
Her breathing was ragged as he backed her against an ancient brick wall, his hands on either side of her, his lips a hair’s breadth from her own.
“I…I usually don’t do things like this,” she said, before his mouth claimed hers in a kiss so deep, so powerful, it left her panting and shaken. His hands had moved to her shoulders, and she moaned when his fingers slid lower to her breasts. Her head reeled, an alarm buzzing in the back of her mind, even as her back arched to give his roaming hands easier access.
“Please…” She gasped as his hand slid beneath her pleated miniskirt.
The sirens in her head continued to sound, telling her to panic, to run away, but they were muffled warnings, and his hands felt so good. She was slick and ready when his fingers slid beneath her panties, inside her.
“Please…” She sighed again, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye, unsure if she wanted him to stop or was begging him not to, even as his clever hand brought her to climax. She would have screamed with pleasure, with fear, but his mouth claimed hers, silencing her cries, and she clung to his shoulders as waves of ecstasy shattered her very soul.
“Criminy,” she panted when she could breathe again, her body shaking with aftershocks as he pulled his lips away and locked her gaze with those jewel colored eyes. “I’m not like this,” she whispered, clinging to his thick forearms. “I mean, that was amazing, but you still haven’t told me your name.”
He lifted his hands to frame her flushed cheeks, and smiled down at her, a smile so warm, so breathtaking that her knees buckled, and she had to look away.
Shyly, she glanced up again, and froze.
The images in the alley came to a sudden, sharp focus, acrid scents of garbage and dry cleaning solution assaulting her senses, and Mandy knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
Those gorgeous blue eyes, the eyes she had gazed into all night, and planned to dream of for eternity, had—changed. They were glowing now, gone from sapphire to amethyst, and from warm and tender to cold and hard. The dread that had been tapping at the back of her brain slammed forward, and her smile faltered.
“My name,” he laughed, and his beautiful smile was replaced with one full of teeth that were long, sharp and lethal.
The scream that had been building caught in her throat as pain seared through her chest. Mandy looked down to see a crimson line forming on her lacy white blouse, as a clawed hand trailed along her stomach, leaving a similar painful, bloody streak in its wake.
Trembling, she clasped her hands to her abdomen and sticky blood leaked between her fingers. She dragged her gaze back up into the glowing eyes of the devil, wondering how she had gotten here, how she had been so stupid.
I don’t do things like this, she thought, her vision fading in the awareness of her fate. And somewhere far away she heard that snarling voice.
“My name,” it said, “is Death.”
Chapter One
I woke with a start, my heart racing and tears streaming down my cheeks, soaking my pillow. I’ve had some pretty wicked dreams before, but this one was beyond bad. What Raven was doing to the girl in my dream, his teeth on her throat, and there was so much blood. It was just…
I curled up into a ball, shaking. It was a dream. Not a vision. The Raven I saw was a monster of ancient history, not the man—the Vampire—I knew and loved today.
Besides, I saw Mandy Jenkins behind the counter at the Polar King a couple days ago. And yes, the girl in my dream was definitely Mandy. I was sure she was fine. Her being in my dream was probably nothing more than our recent encounter combining with some subconscious sadness for Raven’s past, and the left-over lasagna I ate before bed.
Yep. That was it.
I knew all about Raven’s past, about how horrible he had been. Plus, he told me all about the curse that the Sorceress, Sylva Fuhrmann, had laid on him, forcing him to abandon his nefarious ways, or face excruciating consequences.
The curse that was lifted the moment we fell in love.
After the battle with the Sorcerers, and my brush with death, neither of us had paid much mind to the implications presented by him being off his leash, so to speak. Raven was overwhelmed with emotions he’d never experienced before, and me? I was just ignorant.
However, seeing “Bad Raven” in action via this dream left me wondering if perhaps we should have done a bit more investigation regarding potential fallout.
Not that I was worried, I reminded myself as the residual effects of what I had seen eased up some. Raven had been controlling his beast for centuries, was quite adept at it. Those urges were, simply put, a thing of the past.
Oh, he still had urges, don’t get me wrong, but they were no longer of a violent nature. Nothing like what the Raven in my dream was doing. Real Raven did his job unemotionally, offing bad guys if he had to, but never with the passion he’d displayed in his youth.
That passion he saved for me.
Which is why I was so certain that this was a dream. I’ve been having visions since before I could talk, and one thing was certain, my visions always come true. Knowing that this sort of violence wasn’t a part of who Raven was anymore left me feeling confident of his innocence.
> Then again, he was a Vampire.
I was driving myself crazy, thinking about it.
I lay there for a little while rationalizing, trying to calm down enough to go back to sleep, but I was kidding myself. Five minutes later my heart was still pounding. The image of poor Mandy being brutalized by Raven still burned my retinas, and my confusion about the whole thing was twisting my brain, and my stomach, into knots.
“Crap,” I muttered as I sat up and dangled my legs off the edge of the bed. Due to my now very active sex life and the sheer mass of my lover, I had splurged for a ginormous new bed. Somehow, I’d ended up with one so high, even my long legs didn’t quite reach the ground. I loved it though. Thinking of the moments Raven and I had enjoyed in the two weeks since I’d purchased the thing made my pulse race for a different and altogether more pleasant reason.
With a sigh, I climbed down from the mattress’s cushy warmth, and I shivered. I grabbed my robe and pulled it on over the thin Tasmanian Devil sleep shirt I wore, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. The nights were getting cooler, and as I plodded my way downstairs it dawned on me that Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away.
My first Thanksgiving alone.
When my mother passed away last spring, it nearly destroyed me. My father had died in a freak crop dusting accident the year before, and Mom essentially died of a broken heart. Ever since, my world had been turned on its ear. One of my earliest visions had come to life in the form of Raven, complete with the understanding that this world was a whole lot bigger and stranger than I had ever dreamed.
Vampires and Werewolves were alive and well and living in and around Fallen Cross, Ohio, and none of us had ever been the wiser. Until now. Now, I was arguably the only human for miles around with knowledge of the world of Others orbiting our own small lives. Lucky me.
I thought about making a pot of coffee, but it was 2:00 AM and if I started on the caffeine now, I’d never get back to sleep. Raven was out on patrol and had promised to come over when he got off, but that was still several hours away. Plus, I was a little leery of seeing him right now, with the vision—the terror in Mandy’s pale blue eyes—still so fresh in my mind.