Cast in Stone

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by Bilinda Sheehan




  Cast in Stone

  Jenna Faith Book One

  Bilinda Sheehan

  Copyright © 2018 by Bilinda Sheehan

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Want to know when the next Jenna Faith book is coming?

  Cast in Stone

  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

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  Cast in Stone

  Jenna Faith

  Book One

  Bilinda Sheehan

  Chapter 1

  Lying on my back, I stared up at the twinkling stars, the inky darkness of the sky laid out before me like a rich blanket of oblivion. A gentle breeze drifted over my skin, bringing with it the scent of blossoms from the crab-apple trees that made up the grove I’d passed earlier on my way to the pub on the outskirts of the Irish town of Cashel. My eyes fixated on the ocean of stars in front of me, beautiful and infinite, but unlike my ancestors, I would never know the glory of dwelling in the heavens.

  Well, that was if you believed that the gods of old actually dwelled in some palace in the sky, which I didn’t. I was more of an if I can see it or smell it kind of girl… punch it, even. Then, it’s real. Everything else was just a pile of…

  “Are you going to lie there? Or will you fight?” the voice said from somewhere in front of me. It was neither male nor female, just a booming gruffness that hurt my ears and caused the rain-damp earth to rattle beneath my head. But then, ogres who shed their glamour were like that—the only way to sex them was to get up close and personal with some of their more fragrant nether regions, and I’d much rather dine in Hell with Hades than get close to an ogre’s butt.

  That animated movie with the ogre who secretly had a heart of gold? Definitely a pile of horse shit. The ogres I knew would much rather eat a donkey than befriend it, and this one was no better.

  Raising my head from the grass, where it had thrown me, I narrowed my eyes to bring its ugly ass into focus. Definitely a blight on the rolling green hills that surrounded me. Even though it was dark, I could still make out their silhouettes against the night sky, silent giants sent to observe but never interfere.

  I peered up at the ogre, who was also silhouetted against the sky. It was tall, taller than most, leaving my modest 5’5” in the shade and setting me at a distinct disadvantage. It was covered from head to foot in ash-coloured skin that resembled rhino hide. I’d already snapped off one of my karambit blades when I’d scaled the ogre like a tree and unsuccessfully tried to stab it in the back of the neck.

  Springing to my feet, I rolled my shoulders like a boxer and eyed my opponent warily. Ogres had one weak spot, and it lay between the base of their skull and the thick pad of fat in the upper portion of their backs. I’d always imagined the weakness as being similar to the soft spot on the crown of a newborn’s head. The skin in just that one area was thinner—god knows why. As far as I was concerned, why would you create a great hulking creature like an ogre, who is built for war and destruction, and then give it a weakness? Kind of defeats the purpose.

  Despite looking like a mountain with small, beady black eyes, the ogre was surprisingly fast. It wouldn’t win any track medals or anything, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t capable of moving its ass when necessary. I’d lost the element of surprise, so now I’d have to do things the hard way. And if it got its great big shovel-sized hands on me? Well, it would be night-night, Jenna, as it snapped me in half.

  “Why are you so eager for death?” I asked, circling the creature slowly.

  “What makes you think that?” it said, its mouth spread wide, displaying thick, tombstone teeth. Appearances, however, were definitely deceiving, and I had the scars to prove that no matter how blunt an ogre’s teeth looked, they were razor-sharp. Teeth for grinding bone and ripping flesh.

  “Because instead of taking the advantage when you had it, you allowed me to get back on my feet,” I said.

  “I want to know who sent you,” it asked, the air fizzing with magic. The hairs along my arms stood to attention.

  It took only a moment for it to wrap itself in its glamour once more, bending the light around its body to appear more human, but if I allowed myself to watch it with a soft focus, I could still see its hulking shape.

  It wasn’t an it anymore, but a he.

  He wasn’t ugly, but he definitely wasn’t what I would call handsome. His forehead was a little too wide for my taste, and his brow reminded me of a model Neanderthal I’d once seen in a picture of a London museum. His eyes were brown, and his nose looked like the gods had simply placed it in the centre of his face without any care or consideration for how it would look alongside the rest of his features. He had perfectly shaped lips that on any other man would be made for kissing, but that was the last thing I’d ever want to do with him. The dimple in his cheek was a nice touch, though. Made him appear harmless. Approachable, safe…

  Although safe wasn’t a word that could ever be used to describe him.

  I kept my gaze trained above his waist and shook my head. “You realise trying to appeal to me as a human won’t work?”

  He nodded and continued to watch me with an air of nonchalance, a lazy grin playing around his lips as his gaze roamed over my body.

  “I thought I’d level the playing field a little. Can’t very well have my fun if I accidentally crush you to death.”

  The way he used the word “fun” brought bile racing up the back of my throat. I’d seen what his type of “fun” had done to his other victims. Four, to be exact. All women, all blonde, mid-twenties usually, although his latest had been thirty-one. I’d heard about the case on the news and known the monster committing such atrocities wasn’t human. From there, it wasn’t hard to use my contacts in law enforcement to get my hands on the case files. It’s amazing what happens when others owe you favours.

  I’d laid the nondescript blue folder open on my kitchen table. My brain took a couple of seconds to put the pieces tog
ether… literally as well as figuratively. I barely made it to the loo the first time, my stomach turning over so violently I was afraid I’d vomit up my lungs as well as the contents of my belly. It had taken three more trips to the bathroom to purge myself of the horror before I’d finally been able to study the pictures properly.

  I’d been right to think of him as a monster.

  “I’m not your type,” I said dryly, letting the grip of my whip slide off my wrist into my hand. He cocked his head to the side, and I knew he’d felt the slight rustle of magic as the whip went from cool armlet to weapon.

  The whip was old, older than I was, and I wasn’t even sure just how old that was. The one I’d stolen it from had said it was made from the skins of the snakes that crowned Medusa’s head. And considering what the whip could do, the story didn’t seem that far-fetched.

  “Kinky,” he said. “I look forward to opening your skin with it.” He lunged toward me, and this time there was no mistaking his speed.

  Light on the balls of my feet, I danced just out of reach and let the whip drop to the ground next to me. It hissed as though it was made from more than just snakeskin. I flexed my wrist and the whip came to life, snapping through the air as I caught the ogre across his face. His arrogant grin slipped away as the whip’s iron tooth split the skin across the bridge of his nose wide open, narrowly missing his right eye.

  “Bitch,” he hissed as blood raced down his face and his mouth twisted into a cruel snarl.

  He came at me again, a roar ripping from his lips as he closed the gap between us. I flicked the whip again, catching him around his neck as I braced my arm and jerked the weapon tight. His eyes practically bulged out of his head, and his skin took on a mottled purple hue that filled me with grim satisfaction as his tongue protruded from his mouth.

  He threw his head back like a spooked horse, his nostrils flaring as he sought to draw air into his lungs. He might have appeared human, but his strength was all ogre, and as soon as he jerked the end of the whip I was dragged forward into his embrace.

  “Shit,” I muttered as he grabbed my thick braid in one hand and pulled me closer.

  With his body pressed to mine, the cloying smell of his cheap aftershave invaded my senses, but it wasn’t enough to dispel his acrid ogre scent. Up close, I could see the petechial haemorrhages beginning to form in his eyes from the tightening of the whip.

  He wrapped his other hand around my throat, his thick fingers almost meeting on the other side of my neck as he squeezed. He would kill me before I could choke him out, that I was certain of.

  I relaxed the tension on the whip and fought the urge to struggle in his grip, my eyes fluttering half shut as though he had succeeded in choking me. He drew a gasping breath into his lungs, telling me the whip had released its hold on him. His hold on me, however, didn’t change, but since it didn’t tighten either I took that as a win.

  He shook me gently, but I kept my body deliberately loose, my limbs flopping uselessly. Keeping still wasn’t easy. My lungs screamed for oxygen, and every muscle in my body longed to tighten, to fight back, but I clung to the calmness in my mind. I had practice at this. He certainly wasn’t the first monster who thought he could have me all for himself.

  I felt his tongue against my cheek, the rough, almost sandpapery texture scratching my skin as he ran it up toward the corner of my eye. When he murmured his approval, it took every ounce of my self-control not to react.

  “I’ve never had a brunette before,” he said, laying me out on the ground while keeping a tight grip on my throat.

  His mouth came down over mine, his foul breath turning my stomach as he kissed me. His teeth slid over my lips, and I tasted our blood mingling on my tongue.

  I stared up into his brown eyes as I flipped over the second curved karambit blade in my hand and jammed it into his eye. He screamed and flung himself away from me, leaving the bloodied blade in my hand. My vision sparkled with thousands of tiny white lights as oxygen rushed back into my lungs, but I didn’t hesitate.

  I flipped back onto my feet and scrambled after him as he started to shed his glamour once more. He groaned and roared, his hands covering his face as I kicked him in the back of his knees, driving him to the ground.

  Gripping the blade tightly, I landed on his back and jammed the blade into the base of his skull. It slipped through the weakness in his skin easily, and with one quick twist I jammed it up into his brain. The result was instantaneous: with a half-choked grunt, he fell forward onto the grass, his glamour falling away completely.

  Grabbing the blade, I ripped it free and stumbled away from the ogre’s corpse. Every inch of my body ached, my throat burned, and the skin on my neck was tender to the touch. I dropped to the grass and sucked in a deep breath, then closed my eyes.

  “One less asshole in the world,” I said to myself.

  The sound of clapping brought my heart to a skidding halt, and I lifted my gaze to the tall, broad-shouldered man stepping out from the darkness of the trees lining the road. Despite the distance, I could feel the heat in his gaze. His eyes, so dark they were almost black, watched me with admiration and lust, the type of eyes that would have most women on their knees. Heat spread through my core as things low in my body tightened in response to his gaze.

  “Nicely done on the fake-out,” he said, his English accent clipped.

  “If you’re here to kill me, Grey, you’ll have to give me a minute to catch my breath,” I said, changing my grip on the blade as I picked up the whip and tore my eyes away from his.

  Grey Cooper was as dangerous as they came. His power as a druid made him one of the strongest preternaturals I’d ever met, and his magical abilities easily matched his physical prowess. Turning my back on him wasn’t a mistake I was willing to make. But seeing him again, after so much time had passed since I walked away from him, brought back the longing ache I thought I’d buried.

  “I’m not here to kill you, at least not until you hear us out.”

  I turned my attention to the young man standing next to him. He was young, like just-out-of-school young, more boy than man. His blond hair was gelled back from his angular, clean-shaven face, and the grey suit he wore looked like it was made for someone a little broader through the chest. Add to that the squeaky clean shoes and the determined set of his jaw, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was his first day on the job. My assessment now done, I turned my attention back to Grey.

  “There’s nothing you can say to me that I want to hear,” I said. “You said enough the last time I saw you.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. I was being unfair, but I didn’t care.

  “You’ll hear us out, Miss Faith,” Man-Boy said, his deep, rich voice surprising me. I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face, though, as I named him in my head. He looked like a man-boy, not yet done growing.

  “Nope,” I said curtly. “Perks of no longer working for you lot.” I took a step back.

  Grey’s laughter caught me by surprise, and I jerked my head back to meet his gaze once more.

  “Just know this wasn’t my idea,” he said, smiling, and my heart flipped.

  “What wasn’t your…” I trailed off as I noticed that the man-boy was gone. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

  A pair of strong arms fastened around my chest, locking my arms down by my sides and rendering my weapons useless.

  “Call off your dog, Grey.” I gritted my teeth as Man-Boy tightened his grip further, making it difficult for me to draw a deep breath.

  “I am not his dog, I am his partner.” Man-Boy’s breath was damp against my ear. “And you will hear us out, whether you want to or not.” The indignation in his voice might have been funny if he hadn’t just crossed a big line of mine—laying his hands on me.

  “I’ve had about enough manhandling for one night, thanks,” I gritted out, struggling to keep my temper in check. “Final warning.”

  “Alex.” The warning in Grey’s
voice was unmistakable.

  Rage washed through me, narrowing my focus, so that all I could think about was escape.

  “I’ve got this, I…”

  I didn’t wait for Man-Boy/Alex to finish speaking. Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I softened my knees and let my body slump forward in his hold. He moved with me, keeping me upright. Without warning, I drove my body back into his, pushing off him with my legs as I snapped my head back.

  I heard a muffled roar of pain as I fought free of his grip and spun to face him. I didn’t give him the opportunity to recover, delivering several quick punches to his stomach and ribs before I spun again and swept his legs out from beneath him with a low, sweeping kick.

  A hand on my shoulder had me spinning toward my newest assailant, my karambit raised as I prepared to drive the sharp blade into the throat of whoever stood behind me. I stopped my thrust at the last second.

  “Jenna.” Grey’s voice filtered through the rage-filled fog that had descended on me. He blocked my attack with one arm, holding me at bay as his dark eyes searched my face. This close, I could see the beginnings of stubble on his face, and I longed to reach out and touch him. There had been a time when that thought would have brought colour flooding into my face as I imagined us tangled together.

 

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