by Roxie Spears
Bane’s Dragon: Confessions
Book 1
Roxie Spears
Contents
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Prologue
1. The Crime Scene
2. Mourning
3. Strange Behaviors
4. Let It Go
5. Heat of the Moment
6. Shifting
7. Ancient Secrecy
8. The Makinen Family
9. In The Know
10. It’s Not A Date
11. Giving In
12. An Unexpected Obtrusion
13. Swarming
14. The Grandchild
15. Love In Loss
Epilogue
© 2019 Romance Books 4 U
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Prologue
The nights in the ancient city of Quafin were quiet – eerily so. There was no such thing as traffic and by this hour, all the lights in the windows of dozens of homes had long since been turned off. Most evenings – if they dared to take a midnight stroll through the city, which they didn’t – one could enjoy the sounds of nature surrounding it, from the river in its center where frogs croaked persistently to the crickets chirping on the edge of the woods that surrounded the city. Not this night however. This night, different sounds could be heard for miles, drowning out the buzz and hum of insects in the flora.
Footsteps slapped down onto the cobblestone streets, quick and sudden, fast enough to make the young woman’s feet ache as they crashed down onto the jagged rocks. Her gasping breaths told a story all their own, told anyone who bothered to listen that they weren’t the sound of mere exertion, but of sheer terror. It lingered in the air, a pungent fume that would make any predator’s nose twitch. The woman’s long hair blew in the wind, almost as dark as night itself, as she glanced back over her shoulder with a desperate certainty that each time she looked back, she’d see the strong silhouette of the thing that gave chase.
Before long, she found herself faced with the first entrance of an alleyway. Within those high walls, there was no light to cast a shadow. It occurred to her that she could very well make her escape here, could blend into darkness and become a shadow herself. She stopped, catching her breath if only for a second, and stared into the long, narrow passageway. A sound from behind, imperceptible if it weren’t for the adrenaline that heightened her senses and pumped through her veins, caused her heart to quicken and her thoughts to cease. Without waiting another moment, she dived forward once more, racing into the alleyway. The floor and the walls were grimy and wet. They glistened with a substance unbeknownst to her, and an awful stench hit her nostrils, strong enough to make anyone’s stomach turn.
The walls on either side were tall, too tall for her to see the night sky above, black and inky as it was. The young woman glanced back once more and there was no sign of anyone at the entrance of the alleyway. She couldn’t see anything beyond the walls. They created a barricade, a divider between her and the world, but her hope of being protected by it faded away as she looked ahead of her once more.
There, standing as still and rigid as a statue, she saw the shadowy silhouette of a man. He’d appeared suddenly and out of nowhere, more like an apparition than a person, a thing out of nightmares and urban legends. She came to an abrupt stop and he tilted his head to the side, watching her menacingly.
“Give me the child!” he demanded in a deep voice. His face was hidden, but his voice gave away the agitation. What little she could see of his eyes were slits, narrowed and fiery with rage.
The woman shook her head vigorously, pulling the bundle closer to her heart, clutching onto it tighter than ever before. A part of her wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find the will to do so. Her throat had tightened and her voice didn’t seem to want to work. With no intention of giving the man a chance to act or speak again, she spun on her heel and hurried back the way she’d come, away from him.
This time, she didn’t glance over her shoulder, worried about what she might see. The sight of him standing there had been horrifying enough – she didn’t want to look back to see that he’d disappeared as easily as he’d appeared. That would be infinitely worse. Every hair on her body stood up and it felt as though her racing pulse was located in every nerve ending.
There was only one thought in her mind; escape.
Ahead of her, the end of the alley loomed, accompanied by moonlight and lampposts and a quiet sense of comfort. It was the sense of comfort that caused her to breathe a sigh of relief a millisecond too early. This time, the sight of him didn’t scare her. It brought her a sense of anguish because she knew what she had to do. With as much strength as she could muster, the woman stopped yet again. One last time. It took everything in her not to fall to her knees and cry, an unbearable pain growing in her chest as she took in the man. His tall form towered above hers from the edge of the alley and his hands were glowing brightly, clenched into fists at his sides.
Taking a deep breath, the woman embraced the bundle in her arms before gently setting it down behind one of the silver trash cans in the alley, without looking down at the sliver of pale flesh peeking through a space between the blankets.
When she turned away from the trash cans to face her follower, she found that he was still waiting and still watching with his head tilted to the side in that same creepy fashion as before. Warmth flooded her body, heating her from head to toe with a rush that felt like an ever-growing blush. Threads cracked and snapped, echoing in the quiet alleyway as the woman’s clothes were ripped into shreds and her form shifted.
Without warning, the hulking creature leaped at the stranger. The white fur coat stood out in stark contrast against the black of the night as she attacked, guttural growls reverberating through her body. The force of her paws threw him back against the ground and knocked the breath out of him.
In the same instant, the world around them exploded into an unbearable, blinding brightness.
The Crime Scene
It was a beautiful day, despite the circumstances.
The word murder brought a certain setting to mind, but it wasn’t one with clear blue skies and the chirp of birds in the early hours of the morning. It awakened thoughts of dark nights, whispering shadows, and a victim’s shrill screams breaking through the biting autumn air. They painted pictures that sounded like the careful footsteps of someone sneaking around and the ragged breaths of someone else hiding in a secret spot. Still, crimes happened at all hours of the day and Detectives Emilie Hartford and Jack Kruger weren’t the first on this particular scene, in spite of the fact that it was early morning and the sun shone down at the perfect temperature for basking and sunbathing.
“T
he bodies were discovered at around five a.m.” Jack told Emilie as he pulled up to the curb. “The coroner and forensic team are already there, collecting evidence.”
“Do we know anything about the victims?”
“A male and a female, but no one gave me details. I was told we had to see it for ourselves.”
“Well,” Emilie sighed as she opened her car door. “That sounds appealing.”
The stench hit their nose long before they saw the source; the spoiled corpses lay on the ground and the mess was an evidence scene all its own, closed off with yellow tape and marked with white chalk. Emilie Hartford narrowed her eyes as they stepped out of the car, as confused as she was horrified by the charred black spot on the sidewalk. It looked unmistakably human in shape.
“I know I’m new to the force, but tell me I’m not wrong in thinking that’s not standard,” Emilie pointed at the mark.
“No,” Jack murmured. “It isn’t.”
Emilie narrowed her eyes, squinting into the shadowed alleyway. Ash lined the sidewalk. The familiar metallic tang of blood hit Emilie first, but it was the smell of burnt flesh that made her nostrils flare. The detectives neared the scene and the smell grew worse with each step they took. It took everything not to cover her nose and mouth from the wretched odor, as if someone had set a meat locker on fire.
As though he could read her thoughts, Jack gave her a sharp glance. “This ain’t a job for a weak stomach, Hartford.”
He didn’t receive a response. Emilie gritted her teeth and gave a curt nod, but Jack had already turned away from her. He was right – as much as it pained Emilie to admit. Nevertheless, neither of them could hold back the gasp as the bodies came into sight.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Jack hissed, getting down on his haunches to take a closer look.
It was the last thing Emilie wanted to do, but she followed suit, taking in the mangled frames of what was once a man and a woman. They were both naked; every inch of their skin tinged with the blue-grey pallor that came with death as their eyes stared dead ahead, two pairs of black abysses lacking any sort of light. They’d been put out hours before. It was clear that the victims died two extremely different deaths.
The man’s body was a worse sight; his chest had been ripped open to reveal red and pink insides, meaty and glistening with blood in the sunlight. Outside the wounds, the blood had already dried and caked into an ugly shade of rusty brown. The skin around his rib cage was in tatters while deep gashes lined his sides, as if some kind of animal had dragged its long claws down the man’s body. Emilie wondered what sort of beast he’d seen in his final moments as she took in the dark eyes, bloodshot and wide.
“Bizarre,” Emilie breathed as she looked over the woman’s body, which was a different scene altogether.
Rather than bloodied and shredded apart, the female’s skin had a deep pink shade to it and a leathery quality. It was only when Emilie stepped sideways and allowed the sun to shine down on the bodies that she noticed the telltale glossiness of burns. Parts of the corpse were less pink than others, but a large portion of her side had been blackened to a crisp, the outer edges folding back like paper. The blisters that dotted the woman’s body resembled crackling and Emilie didn’t think she’d be able to touch the stuff ever again after seeing this body. Unlike the man, her eyes weren’t wide, because the skin around her sockets had folded over itself, made heavy and sticky by the burns. Emilie knew what the woman had seen in her last moments; flames, hot and red. There was nothing else that could have caused burns this intense.
Emilie’s stomach turned at the sight and she closed her eyes, blocking out the horrific scene before her if only for the briefest of moments.
“Detectives,” a voice from behind spoke.
Emilie opened her eyes to see the coroner approaching them, his white coat a giveaway. He had a tape recorder in one hand and he offered the other to Jack, casting Emilie a curious glance.
“Hartford, this is James Bakersfield,” Jack introduced Emilie as he shook hands with the coroner. “Jay, this is Detective Hartford. She’s new.”
“In more than one way, it would appear,” the coroner arched a brow, looking between Emilie and the victims.
Emilie didn’t know what to make of that, deciding to shake the coroner’s outstretched hand rather than ask questions. “Doctor Bakersfield,” she acknowledged.
“What have we got?” Jack broke in. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, Doc.”
“I tell you, it isn’t pretty. You’d think Quafin would cease to surprise me sooner or later, but alas,” James shook his head as he looked over the bodies. “I wanted to be here to warn you.”
Emilie wished he had been, but she couldn’t exactly say that. “What happened to him? Was it some kind of animal?”
James arched an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Jack. If she hadn’t been a detective, Emilie might have missed the interaction. As it was, Emilie could swear Jack gave an imperceptible shake of his head, but she couldn’t be certain.
Ever since arriving in Quafin, Emilie couldn’t help but feel out of place. Before arriving, she thought she wouldn’t fit in because she was a city girl being thrown into a small town. To her surprise, however, it wasn’t the size of the place, which was much bigger than she initially thought, that left her bewildered. It was the history that made her feel like an outcast. It ran through the veins of the city and the memories of people whose ancestors had laid down the grout between the bricks of the ancient place – like some kind of armor intended to keep newcomers out.
“It probably was some kind of animal,” James nodded slowly. “There are bears in the woods that surround Quafin, if the sightings are anything to go by.”
“Do we know who he is?” Jack asked, nodding at the male body.
“Not yet. We took his prints, so we’ll know when the results come back. Her, on the other hand…”
“Krystal Bane,” Jack stated matter-of-factly, no trace of doubt in his voice.
“I’m afraid so,” the coroner’s mouth became a grim line. “The daughter of William and Kathleen Bane.”
“I thought she was on some kind of extended vacation?”
James shrugged. “Perhaps she returned. If only it hadn’t been to such a terrible fate. I don’t know what caused those burns, but there’s something else you should know.”
The detectives looked at James expectantly, Emilie reaching into her pocket to pull out a notepad and pen. She was mildly irritated with herself for not taking notes sooner, but she’d been intrigued by the interaction and familiarity between the two men. She ignored Jack’s bemused expression as she began writing.
“There was a child discovered behind the dumpster in the alley. We’re pretty sure it’s Krystal’s baby.”
“Krystal had a child?” Jack asked, furrowing his brow.
“We’ll soon know for sure,” was all the coroner had to say.
The drive back would have been a quiet one if it weren’t for Emilie’s burning curiosity. It was in her nature to be inquisitive. Otherwise she was probably in the wrong line of work.
“Who are the Banes?” she asked, her notepad and pen at the ready.
“An old family,” Jack answered dismissively. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and Emilie sensed he wanted to say more, so she kept her mouth shut and waited. He kept his eyes on the road when he spoke. “You’ll know them soon enough now that you’re in Quafin. They’re hard to miss, which is why when Krystal disappeared, questions were raised. It turns out she went on some kind of vacation. Her folks said she wanted to travel the world before she went into the family business.”
“And no one knew she’d come back,” Emilie nodded.
“And I definitely didn’t know she was pregnant.”
Their discussion was cut short as the precinct came into sight. Jack opened his door as soon as the engine shut off and Emilie had to hurry to catch up with him, his long legs already leading him into th
e station by the time she got out of the car. Emilie thanked her lucky stars that her profession’s attire didn’t include high heels.
The police department was louder than usual. There were several phones ringing at once, occasionally cut off by someone answering, the photocopiers were buzzing incessantly, people moved to and from offices and stalls, and the flutter of papers could be heard even over the cacophony of many voices speaking at once. Emilie’s eyes were saucers as they walked through the building. At that moment, Quafin appeared to be larger than she first assumed. This was the type of hustle Emilie was used to experiencing in the city.
“Is this all because of our case?” she gasped, looking over at Jack.
“Let’s just get to the captain.”
Jack sped up and Emilie fell silent, though her thoughts were loud and rampant. Either her suspicions were correct and the buzz of the precinct really was because of the case or there was something bigger at play. Regardless, Emilie knew this was a high profile case and though the events surrounding the murders were abnormal, she could tell there was something more going on. She hadn’t been made detective for nothing.
When they got to the captain’s office, they were surprised to find James Bakersfield already there.
“We didn’t finish running our tests,” James threw his hands up in frustration.
“Ah, Detectives,” the captain seemed relieved to see them, turning away from the coroner. He was a tall man with a beer belly and a receding hairline. Captain Wilks barely looked like the man who once accepted the Medals of Honor, shown in the framed photos on the walls of his cluttered office. “What’s the update?”
