Chosen
by Hanna Maria Jones
Copyright © 2016 by Hanna Maria Jones
All Rights Reserved.
Published by Scuffed Dentelle Press
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.
Chapter 1
“Where exactly did you say you met my cousin?”
As far as conversation starters, it was the best I could do at six in the morning with four strangers who wouldn’t leave.
I’d already introduced myself, Gemma Sparrow, in hopes it might spark a little reciprocation in the way of normal social practices.
No such luck.
They just sat there in an entitled twenty-something fashion, dissecting me and the small flat we lived in. Neither were regarded favorably, but my mother had always taught me to be polite in the face of disdain.
“We attended Uni together,” the sole female took a sip of the hot brew, then grimaced delicately.
It was a very strong brew, just how I preferred it. “Oh. Well, he’s not really an early riser.” He was also absent from the premises entirely, but I had mentioned that several times already as they barged in.
In the two months since I’d moved in, not once had Heath ever had a visitor. He stepped out plenty, so I assume he had friends. I also assumed he didn’t bring anyone over because I was his baby cousin and thus needed protection.
I was eighteen now, but well used to being treated like a little kid. I had overprotective parents; they could write books on the subject.
“He usually doesn’t come back until the afternoon.” I was desperate to go back to bed. I couldn’t while they were here, and I was still hopeful we, as adults, could reach an agreement where they left and called Heath on his mobile like normal people.
“We’ll wait.” The very blond, very pretty, man informed me.
Or not.
“Does he stay out all night often?” the female asked, her eyes narrowing. She was easily the most stunning out of the four, which was no easy feat next to Blondie. She was also very self-assured, which stood out almost as much as her green eyes and hair the color of poppies.
“No. But he is twenty-three, so that’s his business.” Even after quaffing the tea, my normal good humour had yet to awaken. I shouldn’t have offered to make them tea, but half-asleep me was easily muddled. Plus, one always had to offer tea.
“Does he ever bring anyone home?” she persisted.
“How about I try to call him again and let him know you’re here. What are your names again?” I countered.
Her black-haired companion stared at me, his lip curling slightly. “Tell her.”
I was rather affronted. I did not do well with anyone issuing demands. He must have he cut quite the figure, wearing black head to toe and making his pale skin even starker and whiter. He’d be dubbed Anemic. Or Vampire.
Red slanted him a glance, then straightened in her seat and smiled at me. “My name is Rose. This is Tiberius, that is Marius, and the one on the end is Simon.” She pointed from Anemic, to Blondie, to dirty blonde hair to go with each name.
Simon? Poor guy, hanging out with names like Tiberius and Marius. He looked nice though. His smooth face and brown eyes gave the impression he was the youngest and nicest, but the way he hunched over and kept darting glances at the door didn’t match up.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Gemma, as I said. Heath doesn’t bring anyone over. Is he in some kind of trouble?” They looked like the trouble to me, but what did I know? My parents were practically hermits, and so was I until getting out.
“Has anyone ever said you have very pretty eyes?” This came from Rose, thankfully, but her cooing tone was still unsettling.
“Sometimes.” I was wary of her. I did get a variety of reactions to my unusual right eye. The pupil wasn’t round, but instead a vertical slit like a cat. Or a snake.
“They’re very unusual. May I?” She extended one hand as she leaned over. I wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she didn’t wait for my permission anyway.
Gripping my chin, she leaned so close her green eyes was all I could see. The grip on my lower face didn’t hurt, but it was firm. She saved me the trouble of trying to get away because she released me after several seconds. Sitting back on the wide loveseat she shared with the others, Rose regarded me lazily.
They all sat strangely close together, like cats lounging on each other trying to claim a tiny square of sunlight.
I reached for my mobile. “I think I’m going to try and call Heath again.” Mostly to tell him he had very strange friends, if that’s what they were.
“No need.” Rose smiled as she stood up, snapping her creepily strong fingers.
The other three stood up, leaving mostly full cups of tea. Except the blond, he had steadily drank all of his while we talked.
“Thank you for the tea,” Simon said as he walked past me toward the door.
“You’re welcome...” I waited until the door closed before dialing my cousin again. He had a lot of explaining to do.
No answer.
I cleaned up the cups and kicked any hastily hidden dirty laundry in the hamper. Most pieces missed. I checked for dirty plates or bowls left about, and cringed at the random stacks of paperwork.
Heath wasn’t a right slob, but he was bunk at keeping neat or rinsing dishes. I didn’t mind, he had rescued me from the loving clutches of my parents after all.
Spotting my school applications, I tossed them on my bed. It had taken weeks to convince my parents that moving out wouldn’t lead to drugs, alcohol, or subpar hair care.
I love them dearly, but a girl can only handle so much paranoia and forced family time. I wasn’t even allowed to have or go to a sleepover.
Speaking of sleep, that was my next goal. It was Saturday, I had no classes, and I had been planning on sleeping until Monday.
Bang bang bang!
Alas, some things just weren’t meant to be.
I turned back toward the door, expecting to hear the cultured tones of one of the GQ Style models from earlier.
“Wake up you wanker! You better be alone, or they’re going to be out for your blood!” It was definitely a man’s voice, and it was rough and deep as if he had also been just dragged out of bed.
While I could sympathize, I certainly wasn’t opening the door again. “He’s not here!”
The banging stopped abruptly.
The next time he spoke it was very polite. “Pandorea, I’m sure you’re very nice. So don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re going to get Heath killed.”
I couldn’t tell if he meant literal murder, which seemed like hyperbole, or figuratively killed as in severely beaten, still bad, so I decided to roll with it.
Clearing my throat, I pressed closer to the door. “Do you think it will really come to that?” I asked in my best timid voice.
“You know how your family feels about wolves. If I’ve heard about you two, I can guarantee by now they
have too. Where is Heath, anyway?”
Wolves? I pressed closer to the door, figuring I misheard that, or it was slang. Was Heath in a gang? “Getting breakfast.”
There was a strangely long silence. I was beginning to think he left.
Then the doorknob rattled. I squealed and grabbed for it, even though I was sure I locked the bolt above it. Which wasn’t locked anymore. Worse still, the latch turned all the way under my palm.
I tried to keep the door closed with my body, but I was no match for the freakishly strong intruder on the other side. Down I went, landing right on my bum.
The young man who burst the door open was tall, built, and as rugged as the previous guests were elegant. He had messy black curls, thick stubble on his jaw, and muddy jeans. And he was holding keys.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” He looked utterly flabbergasted for a moment, before his whole demeanor changed to fierce anger.
Before I could gather my wits, he crouched low and dove toward me.
Chapter 2
I screamed.
I scrambled around to run, but I tripped over the sofa chair Heath loved so much. So I was mostly just screaming and flailing as he grabbed me, I’m not proud to admit.
He pinned me on my back and pushed my shoulders so hard it felt like he was trying to merge them into the carpet. “Where is he?” he growled.
“I don’t know! I’m his cousin, his cousin!” It finally occurred to my panic-drenched brain this guy thought I had done something to Heath. I’d have pointed out our physical similarities, but brown hair and brown eyes wasn’t exactly uncommon.
“He doesn’t have a cousin,” he snapped, hauling me upright to a sitting position.
Ouch. Thanks for talking about me, Heath.
Oh, Manhandler had green eyes too. They weren’t as unnaturally vibrant as Rose’s though.
I squirmed in his grip. “Check my ID card in the spare room, my name’s Gemma Sparrow. We have the same last name.” I hoped being calm would get him to relax his death grip on my upper arms.
He practically dragged me with him, and I only kept to my feet by holding onto his forearm desperately. He definitely was fit in all the right ways, but now really wasn’t the time to be thinking of that.
My room was small and sparsely furnished, the only real bit of personality was a multi-colored butterfly bedcover and the scattered paperwork and laundry.
“It’s in my jeans right there.” I pointed to the small pile of clothes in front of the bed, blushing. So this is why my mom always told me to keep a neat room. I know he noticed my lacy knickers lying on top, but he only fished through the jeans’ pockets and tried to open my wallet with one hand.
“Here,” I slowly grabbed it and pulled out my ID card and held it up to his face. “See? Can you let me go now?”
He did so immediately, frowning. “You’ll have to excuse me, ah, Gemma. I didn’t know he had a cousin.”
I rubbed my shoulder ruefully. “I can tell. Who are you, other than his muscle?”
“Kurt.” He ran his fingers through his springy black hair. “His friend since we were children.”
I blew out a breath and sat heavily on my bed. “Great. So, Kurt, who is going to kill my cousin now?”
He looked everywhere but at me. “I was on my way to work, so I better--”
I pointed at the ground. “Sit!”
He sat immediately.
I think it surprised both of us, because he didn’t look entirely pleased with his new position on the floor. At least he missed the knickers.
“I live here too,” I said stoutly. “I should be forewarned about danger. You aren’t even the first visitor I’ve had this morning, I want to know if I should expect more.”
He straightened, leaning forward like a dog on the scent. “What visitors? What were their names, what did they look like?”
“Ah, not so fast.” I waggled a finger at him. “I’ll tell you after you answer my questions.”
Kurt slowly stood up, his handsome features thoroughly irritated now. “I could use some tea.”
“The kitchen is out there.” I pointed down the hall. He snorted and walked out. I followed to see if he was going to make a break for it. Surprisingly enough, he went into the tiny kitchen and began fill the teapot with water.
I took a seat at the table, watching him. He had large hands that moved without hesitation as he took the kettle off just before boil. He arranged the sugar canister next to two clean mugs, then poured neatly in each cup.
I liked watching a man be domestic.
“Just to clarify, we’re talking actual murder, right?” I added a spot of milk and sugar to my tea once he handed it to me.
He took a deep breath and took a seat across from me. “Yes. I know it sounds extreme, but that’s just how matters are dealt with. I suppose they may not kill people, since we’ve never found a body of anyone they’ve taken.”
“Not much better somehow,” I dryly intoned. “What sort of mad family does she have that are willing to kill her erstwhile lover?”
“Violent and nasty. They’re not good people. Which is why I’m wondering who stopped by earlier.”
“I’m not done asking questions. Why did you say they don’t like wolves?”
He shrugged. “Nickname for our frat in college. Now we just use it to refer to young struggling blokes. Wolves, because they’re always hungry.”
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but that sounded really dumb. If Heath wasn’t such a good-humoured fellow who didn’t even get cross in mid-day gridlock, I’d suspect a gang or the mafia.
“There were four of them. Rose, Tiberius, Marius, and...Simon.” It was just such a plain name, and he was by far the most forgettable out of the four.
He slowly set down his tea. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Why? Are they related to Pandorea?”
“She is Rose’s sister. If Rose brought Marius, she had intended he wasn’t leaving alive. Have you told Heath yet?”
“I can’t get that blighter to answer his bloody phone.” I grumbled, sneaking another spoonful of sugar in my cup. “You know a lot about them. Were you two involved with this family before he started dating into it?”
“Yes. I’m afraid that was partially my fault.” He drank his tea quietly after, staring into the distance.
Since I’d never been in a dangerous situation, my parents had made certain of that, I wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol. I broke the silence, hoping to get a few more answers.
Plus, technically I was on my third cup of the morning and I could climb a mountain. “They know where he lives obviously. He should stay away for a bit.”
Kurt looked to be deep in thought, several long moments passed before he answered. “No. I think you should find somewhere else to stay for a few nights too.”
That was certainly easier said than done. “What about Heath?”
“I’ll keep him safe.” Kurt stood up and placed his empty cup in the sink. “You should take care of yourself and disappear for a few days, before one of them gets the bright idea to lure Heath out with his lovely young cousin.”
I had to smile at that, rather flattered. Then I remembered at no point had I ran a comb through my hair. It was curly, and did not take well to mornings without a thorough taming.
“Will do then.” I threw a salute his way, then winced. One compliment and I turned into a blithering idiot.
“I’ll talk to you later.” There was a moment of awkward silence before he left. I followed him and threw the top lock up once the door closed behind him.
What a mad morning.
Now I’d never had to pack a few days worth of living supplies before. My family never went on vacation, and any relative visits happened at our house. It made for a long summer, and a lonely childhood.
I grabbed several pairs of clothes, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. I couldn’t think of what else to bring. I had some money, my mobile, and oh, a hair brush.
I hated
to leave behind my trusty kettle, but seeing as how I would be sleeping in my car it seemed a little unnecessary. I didn’t have any friends at Uni yet. If I went home, I would never be able to leave. They wouldn’t believe I just missed them. Not because we weren’t close, but because they always, always thought I was hiding something terrible from them.
Finally they were right. I suppose a broken clock, and all that rot.
I placed everything in my knapsack and carefully turned off all the lights and unplugged the electronics as well. No use in wasting money while we were gone.
My car was parked just down the street, a little faded blue Plymouth Laser. It was old and ugly, but the engine under the hood was amazing.
I threw my bag in the passenger seat and started the engine while pushing the clutch. Before I could shift it into gear, a hand clamped over my mouth.
I couldn’t help the muffled scream against the large palm, but I clawed at the hand frantically, also scratching my own face.
“Shhh!” My very unoriginal attacker tried to shush me as a trouser-clad leg appeared right next to me, moving between the two front seats.
The rest of his body followed as he climbed into the passenger’s seat while holding onto my face.
I took a tiny break from screaming under his hand to try and get a hold on his pinky and ring finger to pry his hand off. It was as successful as breaking stone with my bare hands, and he didn’t even flinch.
“Bloody uncomfortable back there,” he said, as if that explained anything. He leaned very close for a moment before he finished climbing over and sat next to me.
If I hadn’t just been exposed to two exceptionally beautiful, he might have robbed my breath away without a struggle.
He had pale gray eyes and hair even lighter than pretty Marius’ long locks. This guy definitely did not look feminine though, with his sharp jaw and aquiline nose.
Too bad he was utterly mad and most likely violent, nor did this seem like a good start to a lasting relationship.
Chosen: Shifters of London Page 1