“Well, tomorrow I’m going by the bank to check the safety deposit box.”
Her perfectly arched brow rose, her eyes shining with laughter. I shifted in my seat, trying to hold her gaze.
“So, you have the keys?”
“Yeah, Bushae gave me the key today.”
“No, honey,” she chuckled, her pecan toned skin glowing with humor. “Not the key. All of the keys. Plural.”
“What?”
That fucking Bushae! He was a dead man.
“Five keys are needed to open that box.”
“Where do I find them?” I asked around a mouthful of rice.
She shook her head, her glossy spiral curls flying around her full cheeks. “I can’t tell you that, honey. Sophie’s rules.”
Well, that changed things. I was hoping I could find a hint as to who could have murdered Grandma in that damned box.
“I have a question,” I said, pushing my dishes aside and looking Mama Terrell straight in the eyes. “Who killed Grandma?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t know nothing for sure. All I have is…a hunch.”
“Tell me,” I demanded.
Mama Terrell sighed heavily, standing from the chair. I watched as the curvy matriarch paced the length of the kitchen, her fingers trailing along the length of the wooden countertops.
“To outsiders, this town seems like any other you’d find in America.” She paused and nailed me with a serious glare. “It’s not. There are things better left alone, Adara. Monsters better left sleeping.”
The silence settled around us like a thick fog. I didn’t give a fuck about monsters. I had gone up against the biggest and baddest and had come out the victor.
“But,” she continued. “I know you won’t leave until you have answers and I can’t stop you. It was written in the stars long ago. All I can do is follow the threads of fate.”
The fuck is this lady talking about? Stars? Threads of fate?
“I’ll point you in the direction you need to take. Just promise me you won’t sell this land until you know everything. The balance of power in Hell Fire Valley depends on a Mashall holding this land. Make hasty decisions, and everything will tumble down.”
“I promise,” I quickly agreed. I would have agreed to damn near anything at this point.
She came to stand in front of me, closed her eyes, and held out her hands. I stood and placed my hands in hers before immediately falling to the floor. As her voice rang out loud and clear, memories assaulted my mind, playing like a montage from an old movie.
Six years old running through the forest.
“Caked in grit. Caked in soil.”
Eight years old eating an ice cream sundae at Nicky’s Diner.
“Rivers of blood run through the land, twisting and turning until they connect.”
Nine years old snapping green beans with Mama Terrell and Grandma while a little boy watches my every move.
“Approach the beast without fear amongst the ruby red grass.”
She released my hands, and the memories stopped. My chest heaved in heavy breaths, my heart pounded in my chest, and my limbs shook as if I had run for miles.
Mama Terrell smoothed her hands against her navy blue maxi dress. “In two weeks, go to Philipot Grove. Your journey will begin there.”
As the door clicked shut, two thoughts kept looping through my tired mind: what the fuck just happened and what the fuck was I going to do for two weeks
CHAPTER 8
Sipping tea was as Southern as pecan pie and churches on every corner. So, it wasn’t a surprise to find two women, one older and one younger, enjoying a cup as they that sat on two rocking chairs on the porch of a two-story white house with blue shutters.
The younger woman had her eyes trained on the older one, anticipating the gems of knowledge she always dropped when they sipped tea.
“After thirteen years the winds of change have finally hit Hell Fire Valley. And, it all started with you, my little protégé.”
The younger woman beamed with delight at the compliment. For the first time, she felt understood. Here in this white country house with the older woman, she was beginning to understand herself, beginning to understand her powers.
“We were both blessed with the gift. The ability to see beyond the vail. Many have this power. Some can communicate with spirits—”
“So cool!” the young woman exclaimed.
The older woman smiled. The younger woman’s excitement was contagious. She was always bubbly and hyperactive. The older woman hoped that this would never change. Life with the gift could be depressing and full of darkness.
“Others,” the older woman continued. “Others can see into the past. While some can feel the emotions and intentions of those around them. You and I are different though. We are rare.”
The woman stopped to sip her tea, undoubtedly aware that her protégé was hanging onto her every word.
“Throughout the centuries we have been called different things. Priestess. Witch. Oracle. Prophet. But, I prefer the term Seer.”
“Because we can see the future.”
“Exactly but not quite. We can see the many paths of fate. Each path leading to a different outcome. We can use the gift to make decisions that impact the world. It is rare, once in a lifetime rare, that each path leads to the same singular outcome. That time has come.”
“I don’t understand.”
The older woman sat down her cup and turned towards her pupil.
“Hell Fire Valley is unlike any other place in America. Since its founding, it has been split up into seven pieces. The town itself owns the downtown area and several pieces of land called common areas such as Philipot Grove and Woodson’s Landing. Those common areas separate the land owned by the six families. Do you remember who they are?”
“Yes, there are the Clawsons.”
The Clawsons were immersed in local, state, national, and international politics. Word was you couldn’t win an election if the Clawson name weren’t attached to you.
“The Bayers.”
The Bayers were involved in everything from carpentry to textiles. If it was artisan in nature, they had a hand in it.
“The Tieris”
In Hell Fire Valley there was a saying, “You never saw a Tieri coming until it was too late.” They were cunning, ruthless, and single-minded. Which made them successful bounty hunters.
“The Farrells.”
Some say they were crazy. Others say they were cursed. Either way, they were the family you stayed away from. The worst mistake anyone could make was taking the clean-cut appearance of the Farrells at face value. A pack of outlaws that owned one of the only bars in Hell Fire Valley, they were notorious for staying in trouble.
“The Leones Family.”
If you could live in it, work in it, or play in it, then a Leones probably built it. From architecture to construction, they ran it all.
“And, the Mashalls.”
Now, the Mashalls were the wild card. Each generation was different than the last. Now that the latest generation had blown into town, the balance of Hell Fire Valley hung in the balance.
“Good job,” the old woman stated. “This town was founded by those six families, and they each got a share of land. The Leones, Farrell, Tieri, Bayer, and Clawson families received fifty acres of land. The Mashalls received sixty-five acres of land that was cut through the middle by the only source of water for this town, Tyrol River. This instantly made the Mashalls the most powerful family of the six. Those who control the water, control the town.”
“If the Mashall land is sold to one of the other families…”
“It would be chaos. It would be mayhem. It would be destruction. But, there’s nothing that we can do about it. I had this vision years before this newest generation of Mashalls were born. It was written in the stars, dictated by fate. And, no matter what anyone thinks, when it comes to fate—”
PART II
“The sword is a weapon for killing. The art of the sword is the art of killing. No matter what fancy words you use or what titles you put to it...that is the only truth.”
Kenshin Himura
“Rurouni Kenshin”
CHAPTER 9
ADARA
Night had fallen, and I did what I always did on clear spring nights when I wasn’t fulfilling assignments…sharpen my blades. Though my hands were busy with my task, my mind was wandering.
Between Grandma’s letter and Mama Terrell’s words, my mind was busy trying to decipher all the hidden meanings. It seemed as if I couldn’t get a straight answer in this fucking town.
Caked in grit. Caked in soil. Rivers of blood run through the land, twisting and turning until they connect. Approach the beast without fear amongst the ruby red grass.
What did that even mean and what did any of that have to with murder?
After three days of wracking my brain, I decided that Mama Terrell, bless her soul, was fucking crazy. Early stages of dementia or some shit.
I went to town and began asking questions. That got me nowhere. Maybe it was the way I asked, or perhaps they knew better to speak with a strange woman that popped up out of nowhere.
Either way, I was at a standstill. That was the only reason I was sitting on the porch stairs, sharpening my blade while Etta James softly played inside the house.
Sitting my katana to the side, I leaned back on my elbows and tilted my head to the sky. The light breeze lifted the ends of the twists that refused to fit in my top knot. Closing my eyes, I reached into my hair.
With a flick of my wrist, the dagger I kept there was sailing through the air and into the cluster of trees to the right of the house.
A man’s deep chuckle reached my ears seconds before the shadowy figure came from behind the trees.
And.
He.
Was.
Gorgeous!
What the hell? Is this town full of male models or something?
His chocolate skin practically glowed in the silver moonlight. The crisp white t-shirt clung to his muscular chest, tattoos peeking out from the collar, and dark washed jeans encased his long legs.
His large hand held my dagger by the hilt, the blade inches from his right eye. If he hadn’t caught it, he’d definitely be dead.
As he moved closer to me with deliberate steps, I had to arch my neck to keep eye contact. He was almost as tall as the trees he was hiding in. An amused grin tugged at the corners of his full lips while his amber colored eyes held what appeared to be respect.
“Miss,” he growled. “I do believe this belongs to you.”
He snapped his wrist, and the blade came hurling towards me. I caught it with ease.
“Can I help you?” I asked distractedly.
My eyes devoured the sharp angles of his face and how the breeze tousled the longer hair on the top of his head. His scent reached me seconds before he did and I nibbled on my lip to keep from moaning. It was clean, crisp, earthy, and masculine with a hint of something more…something right on the edge of my senses. It called out to me in an elemental way that I had never felt before.
He smiled and I damn near melted before I checked myself.
Jesus, Adara!
“Absolutely,” he rasped while he sauntered closer to me. “I want…”
His voice trailed off, and he canted his head. His shoulders snapped back as he lifted his chin. Amber eyes blazed brighter in the moonlight. A soft growl left his lips, causing the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck to stand on end.
Trapped in his gaze, I felt nothing but a great calm flow through my body. This growling man was stalking my woods and spying on me. He had all the makings of a crazy woodland serial killer. And, yet, here I was hoping that he would come closer.
It was official.
I had lost my damn mind.
“You.”
That one whispered word caused a shiver of excitement run down my spine.
“You want me?”
My question snapped him out of whatever daze he was in.
Chuckling, he sat down next to me on the stair. I could feel his body heat wrap around me. My body tingled where his skin brushed mine. My clit throbbed, and I pressed my legs together to tamp down my growing arousal.
I heard him groan before swearing softly.
“Alonzo Leones,” he introduced himself.
I placed my hand in his outstretched one. “Adara Mashall.”
A jolt of electricity passed through me where our hands connected. His sudden intake of breath let me know that he felt it too.
“Let me guess,” I muttered, easing my hand from his. “You’re here for my land.”
“I was.”
Well, that simple answer tamed some of the fire roaring through my blood, replacing it with frustration.
“Not selling.”
“Figured,” he said, leaning back on his elbows and drawing my attention to the lean lines of his body. “You’ve been here for over a week and haven’t even listened to the offers coming in.”
“How do you know so much?” I asked.
His smile brightened up his face, changing it to make him even more devastating. “I have my sources.”
Bushae was a dead man.
“If you knew I wasn’t selling then why are you here? I could have killed you.”
His booming laughter infuriated me while doing deliciously wicked things to my body.
“No, you couldn’t.”
“If you hadn’t caught that blade, your brain matter would be decorating my trees,” I hissed. “Never underestimate me.”
Alonzo caught my eye, his face grave. “You came into this town, started snooping around, and then decided to keep the land. Do I think you’re brave, determined, and a little crazy? Yes. But I would never underestimate you.”
Why did that make my heart flutter?
“How’d you know I was here anyway?”
I hesitated, knowing the answer would give him insight into my inner monster.
“The wind. It was a steady flow for most of the night. Then…it broke around you. That’s how I knew.”
“The wind, huh?” I nodded, and he grinned. “You’re good.”
I watched as he stood from the step and I had trouble breathing as he looked at me. His expression was almost tender.
“So, you’re not going to pressure me into selling to you?”
He clasped his hands behind his head, lifting the end of the shirt with the movement. My mouth watered at the sight of the deep V cut in his hips. It was like an arrow drawing my attention lower.
My gaze snapped up to his face, and his lips curled into a panty-melting grin.
Jesus Christ! What is it about this man that turns me into a complete mess?
“Nah, I’m good. I don’t really want this land. I just didn’t want any of the other families to have it. I’d rather it stay with a Mashall.” He took a few steps backward. “I’ll be seeing you, Adara.”
The way his tongue caressed the letters of my name had me pressing my legs together tighter. My panties were getting damper by the second. I had never had this type of instant attraction in my life. That fact both scared and exhilarated me.
Alonzo’s nostrils flared again, and he bit his lip before turning around and disappearing into the trees from which he came.
CHAPTER 10
ALONZO
Pacing the length of the woods, I ran my hands through my hair in aggravation.
I shouldn’t be here.
I had tried to stay away. I had done a good job for the first three days. Now, here I was being the creep I never thought I’d be.
Turning around, I had taken only three steps towards the trees before my body seized and a growl rattled my throat. It had been like this for the last ninety minutes. Pace. Take three steps. Freeze. Repeat.<
br />
The setting sun was casting shadows across the land, and I resisted the urge to roar at the purple streaked sky. The wind carried the scent of ginger, spices, and soy sauce, making my stomach rumble.
A door slammed shut, and I whipped around.
Adara.
My body vibrated as I fought not to get closer to her. It was safer for the both of us if I stayed where I was, in the shadows.
I watched as she sat down a tray on a small table on the back porch. She disappeared back into the house before returning with a pitcher of green liquid. She sat down in one of the chairs and placed her slim feet on the railing.
God, she was gorgeous. All long legs and bad attitude. A soft rumble of appreciation for everything Adara left my lips.
I had watched her from the shadows as she moved around Hell Fire. Fearless as she strutted around with her katanas, asking questions of the monsters that blended in with the townsfolk.
I shouldn’t be here.
“Gonna pace my woods all night, Alonzo?”
Sonofabitch!
Hidden in the shadows, I hesitated. I could have left. I should have left. I should have moonwalked my ass back in the shadows and went home. But, instead, I walked towards Adara, struggling to not to run to her like I wanted to.
“Hey,” I greeted her, climbing the porch.
“Took you long enough,” she muttered.
“I was just…uh—”
“If you’re going to stalk me, you might as well share a meal with me first.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” I lied, eyeing the delicious looking piles of food.
“Hmm.” Picking up the pitcher she poured a glass of the chilled green liquid. “Stokes’ Sweets. Henderson’s Grocery. First General Bank.”
Raising a brow, I smirked at the woman. “How did you—“
“I told you,” she interrupted as I climbed the stairs. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Sitting down in the chair next to her, I poured myself a glass. We sat in silence for a few moments, watching the sun slowly set beneath the horizon.
“Why are you here, Adara?”
She handed me a plate of some kind of fried meat and vegetables. “I could ask you the same thing.”
The Life, Love, and Death of Adara Marshall Page 3