by Dannika Dark
Afterlife
Crossbreed Series Book 10
Dannika Dark
AFTERLIFE
Crossbreed Series Book 10
USA Today Bestselling Author
DANNIKA DARK
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2021 Dannika Dark
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Edited by Victory Editing and Red Adept. Cover design by Dannika Dark. All stock purchased.
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Contents
Summary
Also By Dannika Dark:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Back Cover
WHAT’S NEXT
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Books by Dannika Dark:
Summary
Only a week after solving their last case, Raven is itching for a new assignment. In her downtime, she’s focusing on the two most important men in her life: her father and Christian. But there’s no rest for the wicked.
When an old friend seeks Raven’s expertise on a delicate matter, Viktor reluctantly accepts the case. But without evidence of a crime, they might have no choice but to walk away, even if that means countless bodies filling the graveyard. Dark secrets, evil forces, and an unexpected visitor will keep you on the edge of your seat.
If only the dead could talk.
Book 10
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Also By Dannika Dark:
THE MAGERI SERIES
Sterling
Twist
Impulse
Gravity
Shine
The Gift
MAGERI WORLD
Risk
NOVELLAS
Closer
THE SEVEN SERIES
Seven Years
Six Months
Five Weeks
Four Days
Three Hours
Two Minutes
One Second
Winter Moon
SEVEN WORLD
Charming
THE CROSSBREED SERIES
Keystone
Ravenheart
Deathtrap
Gaslight
Blackout
Nevermore
Moonstruck
Spellbound
Heartless
Afterlife
THE BLACK ARROWHEAD SERIES
The Vow
The difficulty in life is the choice.
– George Moore
Chapter 1
“Who wants cake?” Wyatt leaned out of the kitchen entryway and brandished a butcher knife.
Shepherd glowered at his partner, who stood beneath an archway of colorful balloons. “If you cut that cake, I’ll cut out your heart.”
“Easy there, Hannibal Lecter. I’m only having some fun.”
I took the knife from his hand and replaced it with a plastic bag of uninflated balloons. “If you want to have fun, finish blowing these up.” I set the knife on the long table behind Viktor’s chair, which we normally used for alcohol. Today it was filled with plates of sugar cookies and a large bowl of fruit punch. Kira was busy preparing a birthday feast for Hunter, who turned six today.
Balloons outlined the doorways, plates with cartoon characters filled the table, and colorful streamers hung from the iron chandelier. I’d been to a few birthday parties in my time—more than these guys had—and was put in charge of buying party supplies. I could have let Shepherd do it all, but I’d needed the outing. It had only been a week since closing our last case, and while the paycheck should have been enough to satisfy me, I still felt unsettled after my burial. That gap in my memory gnawed away at my sanity each night, and when I’d tried calling the White Owl twice to speak to Houdini, he wasn’t there. Even if he wasn’t the one behind it, he might have seen something. The last thing I remember before waking up in a coffin was walking out of his club. After that… nothing.
Gem rolled around me and skidded to a stop. “Are you okay?”
I smiled at her outfit. “You look more festive than the decorations.”
With her hip jutting out, she glanced down at her pink romper. “Do you think the skates match?”
Her roller skates shimmered like prisms and reflected light from every direction, the laces and wheels both pink.
“I almost chose the all-pink ones,” she explained, “but that would be too much pink.”
I gestured to her crystal necklace. “They match your jewelry.”
Her violet eyes widened. “You’re right! Oh, I adore celebrations. It’s my first party. I don’t mean the fancy balls we go to but a real birthday party with presents and balloons. It’s better than television! Nobody better spike the punch. I want a big glass of it,” she said, rolling away with a streamer tangled around one of her wheels.
Gem was the only one who had dressed up for the occasion. The rest of us looked ready for a street fight, especially Shepherd, who had a pack of cigarettes tucked inside the sleeve of his black T-shirt.
I finished taping the last inflated balloon to the back of my chair.
Christian waltzed in and dropped two giant handfuls of candy on Hunter’s empty plate. “The sweets are from me.”
A balloon escaped from Wyatt’s lips and noisily deflated in an erratic pattern above the table before dropping to the floor. “Hold your ponies. Those are from my vending machine. Did you break into it again?”
Christian smiled wryly as he took a seat. “’Tis the thought that counts.”
I sat next to him. “Why didn’t you buy him a gift? It’s not like you don’t have any money.”
Christian folded his arms. “We didn’t have presents when I was growing up, and I turned out just fine.”
Shepherd finished taping up the Happy Birthday sign on the far wall and wiped his brow. “Fucking hell, whose idea was this?”
“Yours,” we all chanted.
“I don’t recall asking for all this bullshit,” he grumbled, eyes darting between the decorations.
Secretly, Shepherd was enjoying the hell out of it. He’d gone out of his way to buy his son presents on the sly. Hunter had picked them out himself without knowing it on a recent shopping trip. This would be his first genuine birthday party, and we aimed to make it memorable. We knew Patrick Bane, the cruel bastard, had never done anything special for the boy.
I couldn’t help but wonder how Shepherd was handling this momentous day. It wasn’t just Hunter’s birthday but also the day of his wife’s death and one he had thought was his son’s death. Those tragic events traumatized him physically and mentally. He’d only re
counted the story once, but the scars covering his hands, arms, and chest were a constant reminder. Shepherd must have dwelled on that tragedy every June 2, but today would mark the first time it would mean something entirely different.
“A monkey could do better than that,” Shepherd growled, pushing Wyatt aside. “Let me handle it before you mess everything up.” Shepherd removed three inflated balloons from the archway and repositioned them in a way that didn’t make any difference.
Christian leaned back in his chair and rested his hand on my thigh. We quietly watched the team scurry about to get the finishing touches in order.
Blue rushed into the room, her feather earrings fluttering behind her and a bag in hand. “Sorry I’m late. Do you guys need help with anything?”
Cookie crumbs fell from Wyatt’s mouth as he gobbled up one of the treats. “Ask the warden.”
Still winded, Blue leaned over Hunter’s chair and noticed the presents. “I wanted to get him a bow and arrow, but Shep said no.”
“Damn right I said no,” he parroted from the doorway.
She shook her head. “He’s the right age for it. Anyhow, I got him something better.”
Shepherd finished adjusting the last balloon and returned to the table. “Better not be an axe.”
“Modern toys don’t make sense to me,” she said. “I know a guy who makes hand-carved toys, and I asked him to design little people and a horse. Kids should be spirited away by their imagination, not electronics.”
Wyatt strutted to his chair and sat. “I don’t know what you’ve got against my gift.”
She threw him a sharp look. “A Nincompoop?”
“Nintendo. And it’s vintage.”
Gem rolled out from the kitchen and whispered, “She’s making spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Why are you whispering?” Wyatt asked.
Gem grimaced. “Because I don’t think she’s using beef for the meatballs.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe it’s squirrel.”
Gem wrinkled her nose and shuddered, which made Wyatt laugh.
Shepherd smacked the back of Wyatt’s head, knocking off his slouchy cap. Then he took his seat between Wyatt and Gem. “The meatballs are ground pork and Italian sausage. It’s an old recipe that… well, it’s good.” He stared at the mountain of gifts, which were mostly from him. “Where’s Claude?”
“He’s the lookout,” I said. “I sent him to let us know when they’re on their way down. Someone should call Viktor in here before the party starts.”
“He’s still on a business call,” Christian informed me, and I sensed something in his tone.
I twisted in my chair to look at the gifts lined up against the wall. They were identical in length and size, each wrapped in a different colored paper. Two long ones were leaning in the corner beside a wider package. “What the hell is all that?”
“A bookshelf,” Gem said. “It’s from Claude.”
I snorted. “He wrapped each individual shelf? That should be exciting. Too bad we can’t take pictures of the kid’s face when he tears away the paper and finds a plank of wood.”
Gem giggled while clutching her crystal pendant. “Claude likes to be funny. It’s going to be a project for them to assemble together. You know how boys like to bond over tools. I think he bought it to hold all the new toys.”
Shepherd scratched his whiskery jaw, his dark eyes pensive. “I didn’t think about a shelf. Good idea.”
Gem slapped the table with her palms. “I’m so excited I can hardly stand it!”
Wyatt leaned back, hand over his stomach. “I’m so hungry I can hardly stand it.”
“I need a smoke,” Shepherd complained.
Gem poked his shoulder. “Don’t you dare stink up this room with your cigarettes. It smells heavenly right now. Like cake, frosting, cookies, and—”
“Rubber,” Wyatt added, sniffing his tattooed fingers.
Niko entered the room with a basket of freshly cut peonies. “I hope these will suffice. I’m not able to see their blooms, but they smelled good enough to pick.”
Blue collected the basket. “Thanks, amigo. They’re perfect. I’ll go put them in a vase.”
Everyone quietly grinned at Niko’s unicorn shirt, all except Gem. Her knowing smile made me wonder if Niko had told her that he knew about the team’s little prank on his wardrobe.
“So what are we supposed to do when he walks in?” Wyatt tucked his chin in his palm. “Jump out and scare him?”
Gem worried her bottom lip. “Maybe we should play some music. I’ve got Spice Girls on my phone.”
Shepherd shook his head. “He wouldn’t like all that noise.”
“So we just sit here?” Christian shifted in his seat. “Sounds like a grand idea. Someone pour me a glass of wine.”
“No alcohol,” Gem said, touching up her pink lipstick. “You can’t drink at a child’s birthday party.”
“Speak for yourself,” Christian murmured.
I had to smile. A kid’s birthday party was the last place a fanghole like Christian would be. Then again, Keystone wasn’t exactly the Brady Bunch. Shepherd had no choice but to assume a fatherly role, and in many ways, he reminded me of Crush with his unorthodox method of child-rearing. A man with no experience, trying to do the best he could without screwing it all up. If anything, Hunter’s presence was a diversion from all the hardcore stuff we dealt with on a daily basis. He served as a constant reminder of what we were fighting for—so little guys like him would have a better world to live in.
Claude whooshed into the room so fast that he dislodged a balloon from the wall and sent it flying. “Get ready. They’re coming,” he said quietly.
Blue returned from the kitchen and set the vase of flowers near me.
We all rose from the table when Switch entered the room and winked just seconds before Hunter dawdled in behind him.
The second Hunter noticed the decorations, his jaw dropped, and his eyes rounded. Damn. Why didn’t we yell out surprise? Instead, I began singing the “Happy Birthday” song. The others joined in.
Except Christian. He just added silly sound effects between the lyrics, which made Shepherd give him a thorny look.
Hunter clutched Switch’s hand and marveled at the streamers, balloons, and the pile of wrapped presents.
After the song ended, we clapped and whistled.
Shepherd approached Hunter and held out his hand. “Come on, little man. You’re six years old today. This is the day you were born, and we’re having a big party.”
Wyatt pointed at the table behind Viktor’s chair. “You want a cookie?”
“Not yet,” Shepherd barked, leading Hunter to his chair.
Hunter excitedly sat down on his folded legs so he could see everything. Sometimes I caught a strong resemblance to Shepherd in his features. Though Shepherd kept his hair short, I imagined it would be wild like Hunter’s if he grew it out. But Hunter must have inherited his big blue eyes from his mother.
Shepherd moved the candy and plate aside and slid a box in front of him, which earned a great big hug from Hunter. He didn’t seem to know what it was, only that it was pretty.
Shepherd started to tear the paper, and Hunter jerked the box away from him. “You gotta see what’s inside. This is all for you. Go on. Tear it open.”
After admiring the printed balloons on the wrapping paper, Hunter slowly peeled it away, taking an excruciating amount of time to open his gift.
Wyatt stole a seat. “Hurry up, kid. I’m growing roots over here.”
When Hunter finally got the last bit of paper off and opened the box, his eyes lit up.
“That’s the one you liked.” Shepherd puffed out his chest. His grin was almost sinister and unnatural, but he was clearly proud of himself.
Hunter clutched the stuffed black cat and gave it a tight squeeze. Shepherd slid another box in front of him, and everyone took their seats and watched him slowly tear open the paper as if it might trigger a bomb to go off. Inside
that one, a dinosaur that roared. The next gift was a Barbie. Seeing what Hunter picked out was about as pure as it got. Prior to staying with us, this kid had lived a sheltered life with no television or playmates.
When he opened a bag filled with rubber balls, we didn’t think Shepherd would be able to get him to stop throwing them around the room. But the gift-opening ceremony wasn’t over yet.
Switch collected all the torn paper and ribbons and cleared the table without a complaint, his long hair seeming to draw attention to his handsome yet animalistic features. He wasn’t good at hiding his thoughts. This wasn’t a conventional home for children, and I often saw the concern on his face. But not today. Before taking out the trash bag filled with wrappings, he stuck a blue bow on Hunter’s head.
Hunter smiled from ear to ear as he dug through a bag of socks. All of them were predominantly pink but with different designs and patterns.
Niko reached out to touch the gift. “These are from me. Blue helped me pick the right color. Do you like them?” While Hunter didn’t answer, Niko nodded as he looked in his direction. Niko could understand Hunter in a way the rest of us couldn’t by simply reading his light.
“I’m pleased,” he said. “Shall we tell Kira we’re ready to eat?”
