Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Alex studied the words as he followed me up to my weapons arsenal. Thankfully, I didn’t use a voice-controlled code for access. Otherwise, I’d be screwed. As it was, I would need Alex to recount whatever spell was necessary to utilize my tools, or I’d be out of the proverbial water the next time I had to go take down a monster.

  I pressed the code into the door and positioned myself in front of the scanner. Alex let out a low whistle.

  “Impressive,” he said after the lock disengaged.

  I crossed to the long dresser and laid my hands on the specific spots needed to open the secret cabinet and waited, relishing the heat that flowed into my hands from the scanners. The audible click announced the completion of the process, and I opened the dresser lid. I dropped the trinket in the center of the velvet holder and glanced over my shoulder. Alex stared into the cabinet in appreciation at the array of knives, daggers, and other deadly weapons.

  “Damn, girl,” he said and met my gaze. The utter appreciation reflected in his eyes made me shift. I didn’t deserve idolization.

  I rolled my eyes and tapped the paper in his hand.

  “Oh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and repeated the words on the paper. His pronunciation was off, so nothing happened.

  I bit my lip. Do you remember how I said it on the boat?

  He stared at my hands, and the color in his cheeks faded a notch. He closed his eyes. His lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Then his eyes flew open, and he spoke the exact words I used after he had collapsed. “Deus Neptunus in mari nascuntur tridentem istum mihi.”

  Light flashed over the trident, and we both squinted as it grew to its full glory. Seeing the dried blood covering the forks and the handle sucked the air from my lungs. I plucked the note from Alex’s hand and dropped it into the case before I slammed the top closed.

  I grabbed his hand and literally dragged him from the room, slamming the door behind us. I leaned against it, still trying to draw a full breath, but my lungs didn’t seem to be on the same page.

  “Kylee?”

  I turned and signed, Thank you.

  His goofy, uncomfortable smile appeared. “Any time,” he said. “I guess.”

  We stood staring at each other, and his smile faded. My heart dropped at the seriousness in his expression. It was as if he were seeing me for the first time. I thought it was doubt I glimpsed, but then he moved, pinning me to the door.

  His lips captured mine, and he kissed like a drowning man clawing his way to the surface. It was frantic and full of everything he had held back since my brother died. His hands gripped my arms, harder than I thought he intended. When he finally broke the kiss, the intensity in his gaze reminded me of what he looked like on the boat just before he ravaged me.

  I shivered and kept his stare.

  “I want to do this right this time,” he said, his voice husky with the need so obvious in the hardness now pressed against me.

  I didn’t have a witty response, especially since my hands were down at my sides. I wanted to say something like there was no helm for me to spray, or if he wanted me to bend over. I wanted to say anything to keep this intensity from burning out.

  Instead, I broke his grip on my arms and yanked him back to my lips. I needed this as much as he did, and the pain of my injuries only heightened my desire to wipe out all conscious thought.

  He whisked me off my feet, and I pointed towards my bedroom. He didn’t need to be told twice. In my room, our clothing came off in such a flurry, I thought we might have charged the air. The electrical current between the two of us reached the insanity level, bordering on combustion.

  He pushed me back onto the bed and knelt on the floor, pulling me until my knees rested on his shoulders. Just the mere thought of his tongue inside me created a warmth through my entire form.

  The frantic pace at which our clothing came off halted. He grinned as his tongue traced the inside of my thigh from my knee to my hip joint. He did the same with my other leg before kissing my stomach. Each time he avoided my pussy, my breath hitched.

  He navigated my abdomen, up to my breasts, using his hands and mouth to tease me. He knew what I wanted, but he was hell bent on taking his time. I had no voice to protest. I was at his mercy, and what a sweet mercy it was.

  He kissed me, rolling his tongue with mine in such a sweet ride that I sighed into it. Then he traveled back to where he started. With a sparkle in his deep brown eyes, he lowered his head and sucked my sensitive nub. His tongue started a dance that left me panting.

  His fingers breached my core, sliding in and out with such a patient slowness, that if I’d had a voice, I would have screamed. When he finally pulled away, the emptiness caught my breath.

  “Roll onto your knees,” he said in a commanding tone, one I couldn’t deny.

  The minute my ass was in the air, he grabbed hold of my hips and slid inside me. His stroke was slow, so slow I thought I was going to lose my mind. The lack of being able to purr my satisfaction frustrated me, heightening every sensation.

  His hand traveled from my waist to my clit, and his damn fingers started that slow roll, bringing me to the next level. I had a feeling I knew what was coming. When he slipped out and into my ass, I hissed air between my teeth.

  He slowly pushed his entire length inside and then pulled me to his chest. His fingers kept playing with my clit, and his other hand rolled the hard nubs of my breasts between his thumb and forefinger, creating a delicious heat that nearly undid me.

  “Cum for me, Kylee,” he whispered in my ear. His hips started their circular roll, creating such heat inside my core that if I’d had my siren voice, it would have been released without my permission.

  This was too good to be true. Too pure to last, but I reached back and grabbed his hips, forcing him to move faster and harder. His fingers responded in kind, playing me like I was a prize concert fiddle.

  When his hand moved from my breast to my throat, I tightened, but somehow it also heightened every sensation. He squeezed, narrowing my air channel, but not hard enough to close it.

  This was decadent and exciting, and my body responded in a rush of wet heat.

  “That’s it,” he groaned in my ear. “Oh, fuck, Kylee. Cum for me!”

  His orgasm hit like a wave smashing into my G-spot, and I arched into another epic release. I came for him just like I had on the boat, but I had no sound in my open-mouthed scream of ecstasy.

  He released my throat and pulled out of me, spinning me onto my back and burying his face in my wetness before I could draw a full breath. He lapped and toyed with me until I writhed with my hands holding fistfuls of his hair.

  He made his way up my body to claim my mouth with his. In one motion, his cock filled me, pulling another wave of heat from me. In all my years of existence, no one made love to me the way he did. He was demanding and hard, and he knew exactly what buttons to press to push me over the edge.

  I grabbed onto him and rode the magic until we were both too exhausted to move. He finally rolled off of me, and we both stared at the ceiling, our breaths heavy with exertion.

  We slowly turned our heads to look at each other. I smiled first, and he followed with that grin that made my insides melt.

  Why the hell did your wife leave you again? I signed.

  “Honestly, Kylee, I don’t want to ruin this moment by talking about my ex. Okay?” His fingers threaded through mine, and he brought my hand to his lips. “Besides, I have never experienced anything like this before.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows together and pulled my hand from his to sign, What do you mean?

  “You. This intensity. It’s like it’s going to swallow us up and spit out burnt ash. I honestly didn’t think this kind of connection actually existed.”

  I didn’t think it existed either.

  “So in all the years you’ve been here...” He held my gaze.

  I have never experienced this. It is beyond reason.

  He arched his eyebrow and rolled onto h
is side, propping his head on his hand. His fingers traced my cheekbone and his lips pressed against mine. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Marry me.”

  My mouth popped open, and I blinked at him as I shook my head. I did that once. No thanks.

  “So have I, but I’ve never been surer of something in my life.”

  I pressed my lips together. I don’t need a certificate to tell me how I feel. And I certainly don’t need a priest to dictate to me the rules of engagement.

  His eyes followed my hands and he sighed, meeting my gaze. “Just think about it. I can’t go back to being just friends.”

  I can’t go back to that either, but marriage isn’t the only option here. I knew this might be hard for his Roman Catholic mind to wrap around, but I just didn’t believe in the human concept of marriage. My heart would always be his, but his eternity and mine were very different.

  His eyebrow cocked and a smile played on his lips. “Are you suggesting we live in sin?”

  The way he whispered it and made his eyes grow wide drew a silent laugh from my chest. He broke out in a full grin when I shrugged.

  He pulled me into his arms. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for that thirty hours of sleep now.”

  I pressed a soft kiss to his lips and snuggled, shifting so he spooned me.

  His soft breath tickled my ear. “I love you, Kylee,” he whispered.

  I wished like hell I could say those words back to him. All I could do was sign them, but it seemed woefully inadequate.

  As tired as my body was, my mind wouldn’t let me rest. I stared out the window wondering how someone could love something as dark and ancient as I was. Dusk turned to night, but sleep didn’t come. I lay in Alex’s arms while his snore filled the room.

  I gave up on trying since my mind was constantly circling around the entire trip. The things I did wrong. The lives that were lost because I didn’t act sooner. They all haunted me as much as my own actions. The coldheartedness of killing my own kin just wouldn’t let go of my soul. I slipped out of Alex’s arms, dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and headed out to the shoreline of the mighty Pacific.

  I dipped my toes in the water and took a seat on the damp sand. The sea called to me, wailing its sorrow for another mythos laid to rest. Warm tears burned my eyes and my throat as I searched for an excuse not to drown in the pain encompassing my heart.

  I thought Alex would be enough to push away the hurt, but he had only kept it at bay for a little while. Now, it came with a vengeance.

  I killed my own brother.

  I murdered the boy I rocked to sleep when we were young.

  I watched the light fade from his eyes and his form turn to crusted coral.

  It was as if Neptune had my heart in his tightly closed fists. My chest hurt from the weight of what I had done. My head dropped onto my arms as the tears came. I made no noise, but the sobs constricted my chest further, pummeling every muscle in my back with their force.

  I didn’t know how long I sat on the cold sand with my tears mingling with the sea. I couldn’t draw a full breath, and if I had a voice, I thought I would be screaming at the top of my lungs until I blew my voice box. The injustice of what I had done viciously raped my mind, pushing me closer to an edge I did not want to tumble over.

  A hand landed on my shoulder, and my heart seized in my chest, locking my breath in my throat as I jerked away from the touch. Alex’s eyes met mine, and one glance at my face etched immediate concern in his face.

  He dropped into the sand next to me and pulled me onto his lap.

  I didn’t know how to rein in this hurt. I didn’t know how to survive this devastation. It was beyond anything I’d ever had to withstand. Right now, the idea of Lucifer’s floggings seemed tame in comparison.

  For the first time in my life, I needed help picking up the pieces.

  “Shhh,” he cooed in my ear. “Everything will be okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

  His words calmed the stormy seas within me, and the tears dried up as he continued to coo and stroke my hair, gently rocking me in his arms.

  His calm confidence that things would work out wormed its way next to the ruins of my soul. A strange sensation weaseled its way into my body, creating a pins and needles effect in my limbs, as if I were finally waking from an extended and very lonely nightmare.

  It took me a moment to put a name to it, and when I did, I nearly jerked in Alex’s grasp. The sensation seeping into me was my heart finally finding a true home.

  I had no idea what I did to deserve Alex, but right now I thanked the gods for delivering him to me. Being in his arms felt like heaven, and for the first time since I received Fate’s directive all those years ago, I dared to believe I just might have found my salvation, and it was in Alex’s arms.

  * * *

  The End

  Continue The Paradox Files with book two, Waking the Siren.

  Coming Soon!

  Newsletter

  About the Author

  J.E. Taylor is a USA Today bestselling author, a publisher, an editor, a manuscript formatter, a mother, a wife, a business analyst, and a Supernatural fangirl, not necessarily in that order. She first sat down to seriously write in February of 2007 after her daughter asked:

  “Mom, if you could do anything, what would you do?”

  From that moment on, she hasn’t looked back.

  In addition to being co-owner of Novel Concept Publishing, Ms. Taylor also moonlights as a Senior Editor of Allegory E-zine, an online venue for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror.

  She lives in Connecticut with her husband and two children and during the summer months enjoys her weekends on the shore in southern Maine.

  Visit her at www.jetaylor75.com and sign up for her newsletter for early previews of her upcoming books, release announcements, and special opportunities for free swag!

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  Cursed

  A Spellbound Regency Novel

  Lucy Leroux

  Cursed © 2015 Lucy Leroux

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with someone else, please send them to the author’s website, where they can find out where to purchase a copy for themselves. Free content can be downloaded at the author’s free reads page.

  Thank you for respecting the author's work. Enjoy!

  Cursed

  A twisted tale of black magic and sexual obsession.

  Isobel Sterling is a governess with many secrets—including an uncanny ability she's been hiding her whole life, until the day arrives when she has to use it to save herself from a madman. But first she has to master it. Fast.

  Governess Isobel Sterling feels fortunate to have found a safe haven in the Montgomery household. The children are kind and the lord and lady of the house leave her alone. Just when her life seems as good as it can get, mysterious visitors arrive from abroad.

  At first Isobel is flattered by the single-minded attention she receives from their handsome young guest, Matteo Garibaldi. But when girls in the village go missing, Isobel has a terrible suspicion the disappearances are linked to the darkness she can see growing behind Matteo's eyes. Filled with dread, she tries to avoid his company—until she is locked in with him for the night

  Chapter One

  Isobel twitched the curtains apart carefully. If she opened them too wide she might be seen. Her room was directly above the center of the drive. A person standing at the right angle could clearly see her curtains. Although, it would have been a little odd if their guests bothered to look in the tiny third-floor window that belonged to h
er room.

  Below her on the expansive gravel drive the staff were unloading the finest traveling carriage she had ever seen. The carriage was a black lacquer monstrosity with red and gold paneling on the doors. The horses that drew it were a sturdy pair of matched greys, doubtless the best that could be had at the last coaching inn their guests stopped at.

  A more modest carriage had preceded the one currently in the drive several hours before. It had unloaded a few servants and a multitude of fine trunks. All the servants were male. There were no maids in the group the Garibaldis had brought with them from Santa Fiora, Italy, which meant no women had been included in their party.

  The entire household had been buzzing about this visit all week. Guests were rare in this isolated corner of Northumberland. Her employer Sir Clarence Montgomery, a close-fisted minor baronet, did not like to entertain often. But these visitors were an exception. Sir Clarence had mentioned the upcoming visit of his half-sister's husband and son twice in her presence, which for him positively constituted boasting.

  Aldo Garibaldi was an Italian count. Miriam Montgomery had met the Conte Garibaldi de Santa Fiora at a ball in London during her first London season, shortly after her debut. After a brief courtship, the Conte proposed and Miriam went off to Italy for her happily ever after.

  Unfortunately for her, ever after was only a decade. She had passed away when Matteo, the count's only heir, was just a boy. According to the servant's gossip, Matteo was a handsome and intelligent young man of eight and twenty, a paragon of propriety and honorable behavior.

  He sounded extremely dull.

  She didn’t know if Sir Clarence had been close with his older sister. There had been a younger sister Anna as well, but Isobel's employer never mentioned her at all. According to the servants, Sir Clarence believed his younger sister had married beneath her. She had died young too, but if Clarence Montgomery felt the loss of either sister with any degree of emotion, it was hidden behind layer upon layer of proper manners and cold British reserve. But Isobel preferred that innate coldness in her employer. It was preferable to the alternative.