Dusk

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by Romig, Aleatha




  Contents

  DUSK

  COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION

  DUSK

  Note from Aleatha

  Dusk

  1. Lorna

  2. Reid

  3. Reid

  4. Lorna

  5. Reid

  6. Lorna

  7. Reid

  8. Lorna

  9. Lorna

  10. Reid

  11. Lorna

  12. Reid

  13. Lorna

  14. Lorna

  15. Lorna

  16. Lorna

  17. Reid

  18. Lorna

  19. Reid

  20. Reid

  21. Reid

  22. Lorna

  23. Lorna

  24. Lorna

  25. Reid

  26. Reid

  27. Lorna

  28. Reid

  29. Reid

  30. Reid

  31. Lorna

  32. Lorna

  Acknowledgments

  What to do now

  Books by New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig

  About the Author

  New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Consequences, Infidelity, Web of Sin, Tangled Web, and Web of Desire series

  COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION

  DUSK

  Book 1 of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy

  Copyright @ 2020 Romig Works, LLC

  Published by Romig Works, LLC

  2020 Edition

  ISBN: 978-1-947189-53-9

  Cover art: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design (www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk)

  Editing: Lisa Aurello

  Formatting: Romig Works, LLC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  2020 Edition License

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DUSK

  book #1 DANGEROUS WEB

  “When your whole world is shaken from all the risks we have taken, dance with me. Dance with me into the colors of the dusk.” ~ Ben Harper.

  I’ve served my country, a man, and a cause. I’ve given my whole being while at the same time finding its true meaning. There was no way for me to know that the day I met the men who were to become my best friends, they would introduce me to the love of my life.

  Fiery red hair and hypnotizing emerald eyes caught my attention.

  Creamy, soft skin, a stark contrast to mine, seduced my body.

  Strength, devotion, and determination stole my heart.

  I am Reid Murray, and I’ll kill without regret to once again dance in the dusk with my wife. This war has only begun. I won’t rest until it’s done.

  From New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig comes a brand-new romantic suspense trilogy, Dangerous Web. DUSK, book #1, is set in the dangerous world of the Sparrow Webs. You do not need to read Web of Sin, Tangled Web, or Web of Desire to get caught up in this new dark-romance saga, Dangerous Web.

  DUSK is book one of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy that continues in DARK and concludes in DAWN.

  Have you been Aleatha’d?

  Dedication

  To everyone who has fallen in love, over and over, with different fictional characters for different reasons during different seasons. To everyone who has finished one book with a smile on their face saying, “This was the best,” only to open another. To every reader who has the courage to open themselves up for more love, laughs, tears, and even heartbreak.

  Life, like books, keeps coming. The best thing we can do is hold on for the ride.

  Thank you for taking that ride, that journey with the Sparrow Webs.

  Thank you for loving Sterling and Araneae, Mason/Kader and Laurel, Patrick and Madeline, and now Reid and Lorna.

  Please join me once again in the glass tower, with the ladies and the men, with family of blood and of choice. Please accept your invitation to be an integral part of the Sparrows because we are not finished. There is more story to share.

  Hold on for more...Sparrow Webs.

  Dusk—the moment at the very end of astronomical twilight, the darkest part.

  Are you ready to be Aleatha’d once again?

  Note from Aleatha

  Dangerous Web begins nine years after Lorna and Reid’s first meeting in DANGER’S FIRST KISS, a novella that first appeared in DARK FAIRY TALES, a limited release anthology.

  You do not need to read DANGER’S FIRST KISS before reading Dangerous Web.

  If however, you would like read about their first meeting, told in a modern-day Cinderella themed story, please search for DARK FAIRY TALES, or after it is no longer available, DANGER’S FIRST KISS, by Aleatha, on your favorite retailer.

  I hope you enjoy Reid and Lorna’s dramatic romantic suspense story—Dangerous Web.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading the Sparrow Webs. You’re about to read DUSK, book #1 of the final trilogy, Dangerous Web.

  If this is your first trilogy of the Sparrow Webs, please know that there are other amazing stories in this same world ready to binge today.

  Web of Sin

  SECRETS (Free everywhere)

  LIES

  PROMISES

  Tangled Web

  TWISTED

  OBSESSED

  BOUND

  Web of Desire

  SPARK

  FLAME

  ASHES

  For a complete list of my books, please go to “Books by Aleatha” following DUSK. Thank you again for falling in love with the Sparrow Web world, enjoy.

  ~Aleatha

  Book #1 of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy in SPARROW WEBS

  New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Consequences, Infidelity, and Web of Sin series

  Lorna

  My body ached, every muscle, fiber, tendon, artery, and vein. A fire raged within me, unattended, a blaze on the verge of total devastation. And while the singe of the flames burned through my insides, I was paralyzed—helpless to escape. All around me, monstrous trees and giant structures melted under the intense heat as the blaring snap and crackle consumed my hearing. Years of work, accomplishment, and adoration burned, leaving behind a trail of ashes.

  I came to my senses or maybe they came to me. An out-of-body experience as if I were trudging through deep muck, the kind of place seen on a movie or television show—a marsh or a bayou. Shadows of vegetation loomed as insects feasted on my skin. I couldn’t swat them away. I had to keep moving. Each step was a struggle, each thought filled with uncertainty.

  My journey knew no end, no destination. The path was as dark as a starless night. I lifted my hands to feel what I couldn’t see. My temples throbbed and my heart raced as I tried to differentiate reality from dreams and truth from imagination. Though this made no sense, it felt too real to be a dream.

  Not a dream, a nightmare.

  No, not a nightmare, worse.

  I pushed on, searching through the thickening fog. Condensation hung in the humid air, frizzing my red hair, yet not wet enough to soothe my parched lips. The mist created an impenetrable veil, separating me from where I longed to be, where I belonged. The muck below my feet transformed.

  Thinner, less viscous.

&n
bsp; It was water.

  I tried to cup some in the palm of my hand, to satisfy the unquenchable thirst.

  I couldn’t. It was rising, too much and too fast.

  I gasped for air as I sank deeper, fluid filling my lungs.

  Unlike the stagnant muck of before, this water was rapid in its movement.

  A waterspout.

  Swirling.

  A current—a riptide.

  I had visions of water circling in a bathtub, being sucked down the drain.

  My body flailed at its disposal.

  Around and around I went.

  I pushed upward with all my might, trying to fight the current. My arms swam outward, my legs kicked.

  Again, the water grew thicker, too thick to navigate.

  A light appeared, distant, much like a lighthouse barely visible upon a fog-filled jetty. I reached toward the glow, but it was too far away. An optical illusion or perhaps heaven’s welcome.

  The more I fought, the weaker I became.

  “Reid,” I called out, yet my voice didn’t register. One can’t speak aloud when drowning.

  Was I dying?

  Was this what it was like?

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t fight harder.” The words weren’t audible, yet I heard them, felt them resonate in my heart and soul.

  Had I told my husband I loved him?

  I said it daily, multiple times a day.

  Would he know that he was in my thoughts as I stopped fighting?

  I exhaled one last time, giving way to sheer exhaustion.

  My eyes opened to darkness.

  Had time passed?

  I couldn’t be sure, but no longer were my lungs unable to expand. I could breathe.

  Large gulps of air. The rush gave fuel to the simmering fire from before, bringing back the torment as the flames raging through me. As the blaze flourished, my skin chilled, cooled by...

  More water?

  “Float, Lorna,” I told myself.

  I’d read that somewhere.

  Don’t fight—float.

  The surreal sensation was of buoyancy. My body bobbed like a buoy in the waves. It was as if I were transported back to the Dead Sea. Everyone and everything floated in the Dead Sea as salt pellets the size of snowballs formed on the sand below the water.

  Exhaustion dampened the flames, filling my arms and legs with heaviness.

  Sleep. I needed sleep.

  Drifting.

  Nothingness prevailed.

  Time was irrelevant.

  I woke with a start—a crash—as my body landed upon a hard surface, my head bouncing as the throbbing resumed and a gush of air expelled from my lungs. Yet I was no longer in the sea, tide, or muck. The world was still dimmed but not as dark as before.

  It was as if I was at the point where light and dark meet.

  Dusk or dawn, which would win?

  Below me was a solid surface surrounded by nothingness. I strained to hear—anything—nothing.

  I spat the copper taste of blood from my dry, bloated lips as strands of my hair stuck to my battered cheeks. My swollen eyelids fluttered against a rough fabric. My shoulders ached.

  I tried to move. Each attempt met unrelenting resistance.

  My wrists were bound behind my back. My ankles bound to one another.

  My knees bent as I inched upon the hard, cold surface with only the sounds of my own breath gasping for air and the thump of my pulse echoing in my ears. I pushed with my toes, realizing that my shoes were gone. Arching my back caused pain to radiate from my ribs. With Herculean effort, I rolled to my back, breathing in and out. When the pain subsided, I tried again, moving my legs as my fingers clawed at the smooth, cool, damp floor.

  What was my last recollection—before the fire and muck?

  Where had I been?

  Where am I now?

  Each question filled my mind with terror.

  “Reid.”

  I didn’t utter his name aloud.

  This wasn’t a nightmare.

  This was worse.

  If this was the dusk as darkness fell, would I see the dawn?

  Tears prickled my eyes as I become conscious of my situation. It was what my husband and others had cautioned me about since the day I agreed to be his wife.

  The wife of one of the top officers in the Sparrow army would never be fully safe.

  Reid vowed to do everything he could. He wasn’t alone. All of the men—Mason, Sparrow, and Patrick—my friends and family, vowed to protect me, to lay down their lives for the Sparrow world, for Sterling Sparrow, and for each of the women—Araneae, Laurel, Madeline, and me—the women they loved.

  Slowly, I made my way along the cold concrete until I reached what I presumed was a wall. I whimpered as shearing pain radiated from my torso, and I moved to sit. The tears came without thought, soaking the blindfold and tracking down my cheeks until they dripped from my jaw. The salty liquid and running nose burned my dry, cracked lips. By the time I was sitting, with my hands secured behind me, I laid my head against the rough wall and sighed.

  If I was here—wherever here was—what did that mean about my husband, family, and friends?

  Had they laid down their lives?

  Was I the last one left?

  I silently prayed that everyone else was safe, that this was only me. If that were the case, I had confidence in the Sparrow men. They wouldn’t stop until I was found, until whoever dropped me upon the hard floor paid.

  If I was right, I would see the dawn, but my captor wouldn’t.

  “Oh God. Reid,” I whispered, this time aloud, to the damp darkness and solitude.

  The sound of movement came from my side.

  I wrenched back, unable to judge distance.

  Would I encounter rats or large insects?

  Unwanted images with fangs and claws filled my thoughts.

  “Lor-na? I-is that you?”

  My neck snapped upward as I turned my face to the familiar voice.

  Oh dear God, no.

  “Lor-na?” My name came between sobs. “I-I thought I was alone.”

  My kidnapping would result in death. Of that I was certain. The abduction of the king’s wife, the queen of the Sparrow outfit, would result in all-out war.

  Would Chicago survive?

  “Lor-na?”

  “Araneae?” I asked the darkness.

  Reid

  “What else do we know?” Patrick asked aloud to the screen protruding from the large table within Sparrow’s bird plane.

  At the moment, as the four of us—Sparrow, Mason, Patrick, and I—flew thousands of feet above the ground, my colleague and friend Patrick Kelly was the only voice of reason. I sure as fuck wasn’t. My wife, Mason’s sister, was unreachable, as was Araneae, Sterling Sparrow’s wife.

  “Sir,” Garrett said through the screen, “Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Pierce are safe. They’re groggy, but the doctor has confirmed they’re all right.”

  Groggy meant one thing—somehow, they’d been tranquilized.

  Patrick stood taller.

  “And Mrs. Kelly’s baby wasn’t affected.”

  We all looked his direction. It must be a difficult place for him to be, to be happy when two of our wives were missing. “Where are Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Kelly?” Mason asked.

  “They’re secured within the main house office.” As one of our most trusted capos, Garrett had been the one charged with protecting all of our wives. The reason the ladies were in Montana was a long story. What mattered right now was why no one could reach Lorna or Araneae.

  I looked over at Sterling Sparrow, the kingpin of Chicago’s underground. His suit coat and tie were missing. The sleeves on his starched white shirt were rolled to his elbows, and his dark eyes simmering with rage met mine. The stress he was unsuccessfully hiding showed in the strain of his muscles—tendons pulled tight in his neck, his jaw rigid, and a vein bulging on his forehead.

  “Where the fuck were you?” Sparrow bellowed.

  The le
ader of the Sparrow outfit has run the gamut of emotions in the last few hours, as I have. Currently, our plan was to stay on topic and save our rage for those who deserved it.

  “Mr. Sparrow, I was at Seth’s. As I said, he’d reported a problem with the security. We thought it was a power issue. There had been a lightning storm the night before. We thought maybe a breaker was blown or a line down. He’d sent out some hands to check the wires. The women were in the main house. When I left them, the house was still online.” He paused. “And I’d left Antonio to watch the immediate grounds.”

  I shook my head. Seth was a ranch hand turned ranch manager who cared for Mason’s land and livestock as if they were his own. Antonio was a Sparrow. Yes, was. Upon Garrett’s return to the main house, Antonio was discovered in one of the outbuildings with a bullet through the back of his head.

  Laurel, Mason’s wife, was a bio-researcher. Madeline, Patrick’s wife, was thirty-three weeks pregnant. Prior to the house going off-line, Laurel had been in the secure office and Madeline had been upstairs napping. They were present and accounted for. The two ladies who were now unreachable—I refused to use the term missing—Araneae and Lorna, were in the kitchen.

 

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