Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  “You need to give up on the idea of finding Matthew.”

  The words stung worse than the venomous tears and worse than any pain Lucious inflicted upon me. I dropped my head and turned away, as if not seeing Marlo would make her words go away.

  “You know I’m right, Allison.” Marlo’s voice was smooth and gentle, sympathetic. “Even if you did find Matthew, what would you do? What would you say?”

  “I can try to make him remember me. Remember us,” I desperately replied.

  “Okay, and if by some miracle he did remember, how would you explain…you? How would you explain who you are – what you are – today?”

  I felt the tears well up again in my eyes. Marlo was speaking the truth and I didn’t like it. My life with Matt was over. I would never find him and if I did, I couldn’t reveal myself to him.

  “He has a new life Allison, whether you like it or not. He doesn’t remember you. Matthew doesn’t even know what happened to him. Just let him live his life.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut trying to trap the tears. The venom stung my eyes.

  “You’re right,” I whispered. “You are right.”

  “It’s not about me being right.”

  We stood there in silence and watched the sun dip behind the ridge. Puffy clouds reflected the sun’s rays though the orange ball had disappeared.

  “Come on,” Marlo said. “Let’s go back to the castle.”

  I stood there, frozen, peering down into the ridge below me. The temptation to just fall over the edge was overwhelming but it wouldn’t solve anything. Thoughts filled my head as to what I should do with my existence from here.

  “No,” I coolly replied.

  “Allison…”

  “I don’t want to go back to the castle.”

  “Then where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know Marlo.” I replied. “I need to get away though. Away from here.”

  “All right,” Marlo replied looking confused. “Do you want to go on vacation somewhere?”

  “I don’t know where I want to go but I am going by myself.”

  “But Allison, we talked about this…Matthew…”

  “I’m not going to search for Matt. You’re right. I need to leave him alone. That’s probably best. But I need to get away, clear my head, figure out what I want to do with this...” I paused, “…existence. I need to figure this out on my own.”

  “But you are just an infant. You really shouldn’t be on your own yet.”

  “Listen, I have never been on my own. I lived with my parents until I married Matt. My life has completely changed and for the first time in thirty-two years, I am on my own. I want some time to myself.”

  “But you need to learn how to hunt humans,” Marlo pleaded in an attempt to change my mind. “Max must teach you that before you go anywhere on your own.”

  “Really?” I winked. “I’ll be fine,” I promised. “I think I proved that with Lucious, didn’t I? If I could take him down I think I can figure out how to kill a human.”

  “True,” Marlo resigned. “It’s really not that difficult considering what you’ve been through. But you do have to come back to the castle for one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This,” Marlo said as she pulled a device from her jacket pocket.

  “A phone?”

  “It’s not just any phone. It has all the information on it you could ever need – all of our properties throughout the world, bank accounts, hunting locations – you name it.”

  “And why all that on a phone?”

  “We’ve been around a few years. It gets kind of hard keeping track of everything we’ve amassed. Come on! Felix is programming a phone for you as we speak.” Marlo tucked the phone back into her pocket.

  “Okay, I’ll come back for that but then I’m gone.”

  “Fine,” Marlo said, obviously pleased that she convinced me to not run off for the moment. “I’ll show you some of my favorite properties and you can choose.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “But I need a few more minutes out here alone if you don’t mind, just to clear my head a bit more.”

  Marlo eyed me but resigned. “Okay, but don’t be long.”

  I walked over to Marlo and hugged her. “Thank you for everything.” I pulled away from her. “I promise I won’t be long.”

  Marlo turned on her heels and was gone in a flash. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. I heard her enter the castle. I turned my hand over and looked at the black phone I had taken from Marlo’s pocket. It would only be a matter of time before she realized I wasn’t returning to the castle.

  Author’s Note

  I didn’t grow up thinking that I wanted to be a writer. It was a culmination of events in my personal life in 2009 that caused me to rediscover my passion for creative writing. Ever since then, writing has been my escape, my release, the one thing that has kept me sane and has given me purpose.

  Thank you for reading The Descendant. I hope you have enjoyed the first book in the series. I’ve always enjoyed fictional tales that were able to weave historical and biblical elements and that’s why I’ve chosen to do that with this series. Quite honestly, this story is the vampire story that I had always wanted to read, and since I never found it, I decided to write it.

  If you’ve read the book and enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads, or wherever you purchased the book. Reviews are a tremendous help to authors to help spread the word about their books. The review can be as simple as a few sentences or as long as you want it to be and you can paste the same review on each site. If you do write a review, I thank you in advance for taking the time to do that.

  If you’d like to connect with me, you can find me at http://www.KelleyGrealis.com. All of my social media links are available on my website.

  About The Author

  Kelley Grealis has loved all things vampire since she was a kid. It was that fascination, combined with the need to know how the first vampire was created, that compelled her to write the type of vampire novel she had always wanted to read.

  Kelley was born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio and continues to live in the area with her husband and their two fur babies. She likes her cars fast and motorcycles loud and is a craft beer snob. When she’s not writing, she’s working at her day job, cruising in her convertible or enjoying a beer at her favorite local brewery.

  Connect with Kelley

  Website: www.kelleygrealis.com

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/kelleygrealis

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KelleyGrealis

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/KelleyGrealis

  Rescued, Three’s Allowed: Book 2

  By

  Laura Harner

  Dedication

  To every the day heroes who work to keep others safe.

  Chapter One

  Graeme fumbled for the phone in the dark. He hated middle-of-the-night calls. He’d thought he’d escaped them when he’d traded his Phoenix detective shield for the small-town sheriff’s badge, but a quick glance at his clock showed it was two thirty-one in the morning, which meant someone was probably dead.

  “Kennedy,” he said, already turning on the light, ready to write down the location of the scene.

  “Sheriff, it’s Sally. Sorry to disturb your…sleep,” she said.

  He noticed the pause, knew she was fishing. She’d been trying to dig into his personal life ever since he’d arrived and had made it known she was available, if he was interested. He wasn’t.

  “What is it, Sally?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

  “Got a strange report of a domestic at the rest area. Tim is just south of Flag, tied up with a motor vehicle accident. He’ll be there at least another hour. There’s a fatality involved. You said to give you a call before I called in Department of Public Safety. Do you want to check it out? It’s probably just some kids. The caller hung up and didn’t leave many details.”

  �
�I’ve got it. Send what you’ve got to my unit. I’ll be on the road in five.”

  *****

  Oh God. How could this be happening? Elizabeth wiped the blood from her eye and examined the car, trying to figure out the safest way to help.

  The driver had saved her life, and now he was unconscious with the front tires of his SUV hanging on the edge of the precipice. It was a clear drop of a hundred feet to the red rocks below. She needed to make the vehicle stable and then get out of there before anyone found her.

  If she could prevent the SUV from rolling forward until he regained consciousness or until help arrived, the stranger could get out. He would be okay. He had to be.

  She limped forward, carrying the biggest rock she could lift, and lodged it in front of the rear tire. She returned again and again until both rear tires were wedged tight.

  Her head whipped around at the sharp snap of a twig behind her. Then a soft, purely evil laugh sliced through the cold night air.

  “Looks like you’re fresh out of Prince Charmings again, Elizabeth. Funny how they all seem to disappear on you. I wonder why that is? I think it’s fate. You’re mine, and no one else is allowed to have you. Not ever. Come on now, Elizabeth. It’s time to go home. We can kiss and make up.”

  There was nowhere to run. He would catch her, and this time he would kill her. She was sure of it.

  Movement from inside the SUV caught her attention. She glanced down in time to see a strong hand raise a gun through the broken window. In one smooth motion, the man aimed toward the brush and fired.

  The SUV slid forward. Ears ringing from the gunshot, she didn’t hesitate. She yanked the door opened, then pulled the man’s arm with every bit of strength she possessed. He came free from the crushed metal and tangle of seat belt just as his vehicle lost the war with gravity.

  *****

  Michael tumbled out of his SUV and bowled the woman over. Rolling fast, he covered her with his body, gun pointing into the brush, eyes searching for the source of that disembodied voice. He could hear nothing after the retort of the gun except the sick crunch of his custom hybrid Tahoe as it died a humiliating death at the bottom of the canyon. Shit. He’d just bought that car!

  The trip had started so beautifully, his new beginning. No more working all night, no more losing track of the days, no more heart attack waiting to happen. Thirty wasn’t old; he was just overworked in an obsessive-compulsive kind of way.

  Enwright Security had grown to be the top high-tech security business in the country and had nearly eaten him alive in the process. Not that he hadn’t loved every bit of starting his own company. He had. But when one of his top technicians died at his workbench after another fourteen-hour shift, Michael knew it was time to make a change.

  A little over two hours ago, he’d loaded a suitcase, laptop, and a few other gadgets into his Tahoe and headed north from Phoenix with no particular destination in mind. He’d stopped at the Sunset Point rest area, resisted the temptation to call the office and check on the production statistics, and just stood gazing into the gathering darkness. No destination meant no reservations, no plans. He felt lost. With a sigh, he’d gotten back into the car.

  He’d noticed the woman first. She’d burst from the backside of the restrooms, running toward the brush with quick looks over her shoulders. A moment later, a man dressed all in black gave chase.

  Her face had been a mask of terror, and Michael hadn’t hesitated. He’d pushed the four-wheel drive into action and barreled over the curb and into the brush surrounding the rest area, following the path of the man. He’d figured it was a domestic dispute and reasoned if he could get to the man, he could calm the situation. If not, he’d knock the asshole out. Either way, he couldn’t sit by and watch a man chase a woman into the wilderness.

  The gunshots came as a complete surprise. Four bullets right to the windshield. The bullet-resistant glass did its job, but the stars splintering across the front effectively blocked his view. The Tahoe pitched over a boulder, and Michael had a terrifying glimpse of the edge of the world before his head slammed into the door frame and the lights went out.

  All that had led to his current predicament. He was lying on top of a beautiful woman, his gun in his hand, looking into the night for a rat bastard he now planned to kill.

  “Sheriff. Drop the gun, and lock your hands behind your head, motherfucker,” the voice a low growl behind his ear.

  Michael turned his head slightly only to find the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. He dropped the gun. The woman beneath him whimpered.

  *****

  Graeme’s heart rate was nicely elevated. He cuffed the suspect where he lay, needing to secure him before he risked a look at the woman. Jerking the man’s arms, he dropped him unceremoniously and was rewarded with a muffled thud as the suspect’s face hit the ground.

  “Ma’am, are you okay? I need you to stand up slowly with your hands to the side where I can see them.”

  He wasn’t taking any chances. They could both be assholes, and he was out here without backup. The woman got to her knees and pushed herself up from the ground, careful to keep her hands in view.

  “Turn around,” he directed.

  She turned slowly, her long sweep of dark auburn hair hiding her face. It didn’t matter. There was only one head of hair like that. Elizabeth Ashford. Fuck.

  He reached her in two strides, brushed the hair back from her face, and saw the bruises and blood. “Elizabeth, honey, are you okay? Where’d you come from?”

  He walked her over to sit far enough away from the suspect and lowered her to the ground. Kneeling beside her, he said, “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. He’s not going to hurt you anymore. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you now. Can you talk? Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Beat me,” she gasped and then she pulled away from his arms and ran a few steps into the woods and vomited.

  He figured she’d want a few minutes to recover, so he sauntered over to the bastard that beat the most beautiful woman he knew and the only one he’d ever loved. He grabbed a fistful of hair as dark as his own and pulled the man’s head back to take a look. One eye was swollen shut while the other showed a slice of steely blue peeking out between swollen lids. Red sand and pebbles clung to the blood that covered the unfamiliar face. So it wasn’t her bastard husband after all.

  He dropped the head and was again gratified by the sound of flesh on ground and a small moan at the rough contact. He checked the man for more weapons, removed his wallet and his cell phone.

  “What’s your name, asshole?” he asked as he gave a rough kick, his boot connecting with the suspect’s hip in order to turn him over.

  The man made a harsh sound that could have been a laugh, spit blood and dirt from his mouth, and said through swollen lips, “Fuck you!”

  Graeme smiled. He would enjoy questioning this prick. He flipped open the man’s wallet, just as Elizabeth came back to the small clearing.

  “Elizabeth, do you know this here—” he glanced down at the man’s driver’s license “—Michael Enwright?” The name was familiar, but he wasn’t sure where he’d heard it before.

  “No, wait, Graeme, you’ve got it all wrong, and don’t call me that,” she said running over to the downed man, even as he tried to stop her.

  “It was Barry that beat me. This man saved my life. Barry very nearly killed him, too. He shot at him and caused the accident. Help me,” she pleaded as she tried to help Enwright sit up.

  *****

  This was all such a mess. What was she going to do? She probably needed a doctor. She knew her ribs were bruised where Barry had kicked her. He usually confined the blows to her stomach and thighs, places that wouldn’t leave a mark. He’d been especially violent tonight. She’d recognized the signs, known it was coming. Yet she hadn’t been able to divert him, and the rage came on fast and furious. He’d worked himself up as he enumerated her failings, ending on the tragically familiar accusations that she didn’t lo
ve him and she was having an affair.

  It was hard to argue with the first. She didn’t love Barry. An affair was out of the question. The only man she’d ever wanted was standing in front of her wearing a badge, and he was a big part of the reason she’d stayed married to Barry for as long as she had.

  *****

  Fuckin’ cunt! She had no business running. Sneaking out the Goddamn backdoor of the bathroom. She’d planned to run away all along. It was why she’d whined for the last thirty minutes about having to go pee at the next rest stop.

  He wouldn’t have hurt her, not really. Sure he’d given her a tap, but she’d had it coming. He’d planned to take her to the cabin where he could really teach her a lesson before they made up. Now she’d gone and caused all this trouble. It was her fault he’d had to shoot that prick in the fancy SUV. He knew who it was, though. He finally knew who her fucking boyfriend was. The fancy Enwright prick. Rich bastard. Asshole had practically fucked her on the ground with her husband standing there watching. Goddamn it!

  He would make them pay. Elizabeth was his. Nobody took what was his. Nobody! He’d learned things in Afghanistan that would make her pretty little head spin. He would make her watch. He would skin Enwright alive, cut off his dick, and feed it to her. Then she would learn. Elizabeth would learn.

  He pressed his knuckles against his temples. Have to calm down, have to think. Once Enwright was dead, she would settle down, but now they couldn’t go home. They could still go to the cabin. No one knew where that was. Not even Elizabeth. Need money. Enwright has money. Just need to get some of Enwright’s money before I kill him. Need a plan. Need a plan. Need a plan.