by L. A. Boruff
Maybe that leprechaun wasn’t so bad after all.
4
Jaxson awoke with a start, reaching for Lily… but she wasn’t there. Instead Ian snored loudly on one side of him, and Zane on the other. They weren’t in Lily’s apartment any longer. Somehow they’d returned to their own. There was a mattress on the floor. Bags of clothes they’d purchased the day before lined up along the wall, and nothing else. Memories flooded back to him, of coming to Earth the day before and arranging things for their new life.
Memories that conflicted with a Saint Patrick’s Day spent fucking a beautiful woman.
So, was it all a dream?
It’d felt so real!
Heart racing, he combed fingers through his tangled hair and climbed quietly out of the bed. In just his boxers, he left their room and went out into the bare living room. Making a bee-line for the window, he stared out at the apartment across from theirs. Lily’s.
It was still dark out, the sky just barely lit with grey. All the lights were off in her place, and she was nowhere to be seen. Did she leave or did—? There was the slightest movement in her bed, and the tightness in his chest eased.
She’s still there.
She’s safe.
So, it’d all been a dream. She didn’t yet know they had been sent to keep an eye on her. She didn’t yet know they lived across from her. And they hadn’t yet shared any moments that changed everything between them, even if it felt like they had. Regret left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
His gaze moved down, and his muscles tensed. A little man was watching him from the sidewalk across the street. The same strange man from his dream.
Puzzle pieces seemed to move in his mind. He’d run into the man the day before. The man had nearly stepped in front of a bus, distracted by his phone call. Acting on instinct, Jaxson had yanked him back.
So he was just a man, right? Not a leprechaun? Not a man who gave me good luck. But then, why was he sitting across the street, staring into an apartment he shouldn’t be able to see inside of, smiling like he’d done something clever.
Suddenly, Jaxson wasn’t sure what had been a dream and what had been real.
Had the little man given him everything and then pressed the reset button so that she would remember none of it? Was it a gift or a curse? He wasn't sure.
The man’s grin widened. And then, he was gone.
Jaxson stood by the window staring for a long time. After only a day back on Earth, already two significant things had happened. One, he’d had a run-in with a leprechaun, and two, he’d realized that he loved Lily.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt his wolf stir inside of him. He couldn’t love Lily. Nothing had changed. He couldn’t touch her, not without risking his life.
No matter how much he told himself otherwise, the sensation lingered. The one that whispered that, despite all logic, the half-breed across the street had buried herself deeply inside his heart.
He sighed. Well, happy fucking Saint Patrick’s Day to me.
Did you enjoy this story? If so, check out Rogue Demon. The tale of how Lily meets her three sexy demons on a dangerous mission to save her best friend.
A Note From The Author
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Your reviews help other readers find my work. They’re also a great way for me to learn what my readers want to read more or less of. I have so many ideas for stories, that if one series isn’t gaining a lot of interest, I’ll move on to another one!
Thank you for reading this story from my heart,
~Lacey Carter Andersen
About the Author
Lacey Carter Andersen loves reading, writing, and drinking excessive amounts of coffee. She spends her days taking care of her husband, three kids, and three cats. But at night, everything changes! Her imagination runs wild with strong-willed characters, unique worlds, and exciting plots that she enthusiastically puts into stories.
Lacey has dozens of tales: science fiction romances, paranormal romances, short romances, reverse harem romances, and more. So, please feel free to dive into any of her worlds; she loves to have the company!
And you’re welcome to reach out to her; she really enjoys hearing from her readers.
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More by Lacey Carter Andersen
Mates of the Realms: Mortals
Renegade Hunter
Cursed Hunter
Betrayed Hunter
Mates of the Realms: Immortals
Rebel Lover
Rebel Lies
Rebel Loss
The Dragon Shifters’ Last Hope
Stolen by Her Harem
Claimed by Her Harem
Treasured by Her Harem
Harem of the Shifter Queen
Sultry Fire
Sinful Ice
Saucy Mist
Alternative Futures
Nightmare Hunter
Deadly Dreams
Mortal Flames
Twisted Prophecies
An Icelius Reverse Harem
Her Alien Romance
Steamy Tale of Warriors and Rebels
Gladiators
Monsters and Gargoyles
Medusa’s Destiny
Keto’s Tale
Famished Love
TL Reeve & Michele Ryan
Author Note
Welcome to our world reimagined.
Michele and I enjoy writing about monsters. When I came to her with my idea of raising the dead, I wasn’t sure what she’d say. We’d done it before, but this time, it was different. This time, we’d be using them for the greater good or greatest good.
Basically, the ley lines beneath London have become activated and only a team of exceptional humans and undead can save England. From what, you ask? Well, all kinds of nasty beings. From demons to poltergeist it doesn’t matter. If they awaken, they are hell-bent on destroying England, but most specifically, London.
In Omega Corps, you’ll meet the founding members of this group of brave scientists along with their team of the undead, the Illusionists. The only thing is, they aren’t quite a team yet. They’re still learning to get along. Heck, some of them are just waking up after their death sleep.
So, how does this fit with the whole “St. Patty’s Day celebration...” You’ll have to read the story to figure it out.
This story contains violence, biting, necromancy, black magic, and steamy sexual content. M/M, M/M/F, and M/F.
Happy Reading,
Michele and TL
Prologue
London...
Hunger.
Constant.
Never ending.
There are the haves and the have nots. Those who sit in fancy restaurants eating their fancy foods, disregarding the rest of the world. Their laughter grated on a normal person’s ears, but to him, it fueled his disdain. Made his mission all the easier to complete.
Outside those gilded walls, vaulted ceilings and glass lay the homeless and the downtrodden. The people who struggled. Those torn between feeding themselves or their child or in some instances, their parent. They, who work day in and day out with little to no reward.
One hundred years he watched. One hundred more he’d walk the earth, balancing the scales of justice.
He floated through the space, the loud chatter overwhelming as it combined with plates clanking and silverware scraping
, grinding against his sensitive ears. No one saw him. No one knew he was there. He spread his arms wide, taking up the expanse of the restaurant. The white, transparent tendrils of his tattered clothing slid across the heads of the whole never paid attention. They hadn't in the last two places he'd visited that night either. Strange how humans had become so unaware of their surroundings.
Their attention fixed on their hand-held contraptions. Angling them to-and-fro. Capturing their food on those small pieces of glass and metal.
Obliviousness made people reckless.
The smash of a plate joined a second then a third. Two people fell to the floor. Then a third and a fourth and so on. Their skin sucked to their bone, their bodies becoming dehydrated husks—mummified some would say. Their expressions locked in a state of horror.
Maybe surprise.
Maybe anger.
He continued through the building entering the kitchen. His arms were still wide, touching all those who remained. Food spoiled on the counters. Freshly cooked meat withered allowing maggots to crawl from it. Lettuce wilted. Mold covered fresh loaves of bread. The smell of decay permeated the area.
Fire flashed to life as oils and grease spilled onto the flames of the stove eyes. An automated shield came down over the stove, blotting out the fire. Water sprayed the area, dampening the dead but slid through him as he continued toward the exit.
A sense of rightness filled him as he passed through the door and into the night. He wasn’t done by any means.
The scales were beginning to tip.
Tomorrow was another day.
When he was done, the balance would return.
1
Jack
One year later...
I stood beside Dr. Nathan Sawyer and stared at the bodies lying on the metal slabs housed within the morgue. Or, at least, I thought they were bodies. Had I not seen their teeth, I'd question what I was staring at. They were more corn husks if anything—shells of what they once were. The victims' bodies were curled into themselves. Their bones were gnarled and knobby. Thankfully, their belongings were gathered from the scene and carried with them to the morgue. It made the inspectors' jobs easier and allowed for family notification to begin.
This had been the sixth such incident in the past year. The sixth we hadn’t stopped as of yet.
“I’m still not convinced—”
“This is real?” I cocked a brow as I stared at Nathan. “I wouldn’t either if I hadn’t been standing here with you.”
“It’s morbid,” Nathan said. “What would do this?”
“Good question,” I replied. “It’s why we hired Miss Reeve.”
“How many bodies do we have like this?” Nathan opened another refrigerator door.
“Tonight?” I placed a stack of the victim files into a box. “Three hundred. Global panic should’ve been settling in by now.”
Nathan frowned. “Why hasn’t it? People had to have seen the bodies.”
“Quick response?”
A year ago, when these deaths began, British Intelligence came to me and asked for my assistance. I hadn’t been sure what to make of it. There was nothing normal, para—or not—about this situation. No serial killer turned humans into husks. Nor could any one person drain a body, preserving them like a mummy within minutes. According to the autopsy findings from the other victims, all of their organs were still present and were as dehydrated as their bodies.
I’m a professor and researcher of the paranormal, not a medical doctor. I don’t have a degree in forensic sciences or in behavioral sciences. At the time, when I’d been assigned to this case, I hadn’t seen where my line of expertise would help. Especially, since these bodies were so perfectly preserved. Perhaps an archeologist would’ve been more suited for this job.
“It’s not even been in the news.”
No, Parliament wouldn’t have allowed that sort of alarm. “How would they explain it? We have a restaurant full of mummies?”
“People’s family should have been talking by now,” Nathan muttered. “It doesn’t sit right.”
I glanced back at Nathan who studied the body on the table. He was a psychologist from the states, who specialized in the reintegration of a person into society after a traumatic experience. The third person of our mismatched team was Miss Anne Reeve. An occultist who specialized in dealing with beings of a demonic nature. There was one more to our team, but we hadn't had the pleasure of meeting them yet.
Omega Corp, the new division of British Intelligence, had no idea where, to begin with, this ludicrous situation either. Miss Reeve, on the other hand, believed ley lines beneath London had been activated. That, I understood. However, the theory of such things as ley lines and spells that could unlock them, weren't trusted science.
They were folklore.
Nevertheless, it appeared not only were we dealing with something that caused people to become whatever these bodies were, but there were also sightings of horned monsters and apparitions of demonic entities. London was fast becoming a hotbed of activity and we were in the thick of it. Something Miss Reeve warned might happen if we didn't take the situation seriously.
God, what a woman. She was tall; had black hair that she pinned into a severe bun and azure eyes. She loved ruby-red lipstick and pencil skirts. She wore heels everywhere, and on more than one occasion I imagined those fucking legs of hers wrapped around my neck as I feasted on her pussy.
Nathan closed the drawer. “We won’t be able to keep covering this up. People will see what is happening.”
I shrugged. “For now, it’s epidemic.” British Intelligence minimized the damages, but bloggers were already writing about it. Of course, the majority of them were confirmed conspiracy theorists. Others thrived off of urban legends. Monsters were the scuttle bug among the internet community.
The only thing we had going for us... Some of the deaths weren’t happening in populous places. One had been a tiny community near Wales. Another near Darby. If the bodies hadn’t been photographed and sent to British Intelligence and then forwarded to us, I wouldn’t have believed they were connected.
“The ridiculousness of this...”
I placed my finger to Nathan’s lips, stilling his statement. We couldn’t talk about it, even if we were in a lab. Even if we were underground, in a morgue, and the only living, breathing people there were us. The warm softness of his mouth drew me closer to him. The burning attraction between us hadn’t dampened since meeting Anne, in fact, it only shone brighter since her arrival.
I’d had six months to myself with Nathan, learning everything I could about him, and his fifteen-year-old daughter. The first time I kissed him, he’d admonished me. “Not in front of my daughter.” His daughter had been in her room, but the nervous way he said those words with a soft groan of yearning, left me lightheaded and wanting him even more.
“Not here,” he whispered.
“Not in public, you mean.” I stepped closer to him. “Not in front of the dead.” The corner of my mouth slid upward in a satisfied smirk.
Nathan’s breath hitched. His dark-brown eyes swirled with lust. “We’re working.”
We were. “Later.”
He rolled his eyes. “We shouldn’t even be doing this at all.” He was afraid we’d get caught one day by MI6 or worse, his daughter.
She’d been through so much at such a young age. Her mother died when she was a tot. Cancer robbed Nathan of his wife. It robbed both mother and daughter of a life spent planning every event in Elizabeth’s life. Now, it’d been up to Nathan to help her with those plans. He did well enough, except when it came to his life and moving on. He worried what his daughter might say if daddy was caught kissing another man, never mind if she ever caught daddy kissing another man and woman—if I had it my way.
So, I tried to give him space. Six months didn’t seem like very long in the grand scheme of things, however, my cock and balls would say otherwise. “We should. I promise you.” I backed away from him and finishe
d loading up the files of the victims. “We’ll have the autopsy reports by the end of the week. I suspect they’ll be the same as the others.”
Nathan blew out a breath. “I believe you’re right.”
When we arrived back at the operations hub of Omega Corp, five boxes, the size, and shape of coffins sat in the middle of the empty ground floor. The power generating turbine installed just a week before had been switched on. A blue light emanated from it. The electricity conducted supercharged the air, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. I'd never seen anything like it before.
It reminded me of a relic from a by-gone era.
Anne stepped out from behind the machine and smiled. The way her lips twitched in the gleeful expression, made my already hard dick, jerk with expectation. My gut twisted and I had to bite back the moan building in my throat. She was beauty, brains and crazy all rolled into one.
“About time you two showed up,” she said. “I was just about to conduct a little experiment.”
“A little experiment?” Nathan muttered.
“Yes,” she answered, the lyrical quality of her voice entranced us. “One of these boxes will be opened tonight.”
“Oh?” My curiosity piqued.
“We have a unique situation that requires a unique solution. These five boxes contain our answers.” She walked up to the box at the end. “I assured our superiors we would do everything to fix this situation plaguing London and the surrounding area as quickly as possible. And, well, gentlemen, we’re running out of time.”