Ash Bringer (A Storm of Fire: Paranormal Dragonshifter Romance Book 1)

by Courtney Leigh

  “Make a wrong turn?” the man in the middle said, his voice matching the scruff on his face as if he’d spent the better part of his life smoking. “Or do you know exactly where you are, little lady?”

  “I’m looking for sanctuary,” I said, lowering my hands slowly.

  The man laughed, smiling as his eyes moved up and down my body. “You in some kind of trouble?” He continued toward me when his men stopped, coming within just a few steps of where I stood by the front of the SUV. “You don’t look like a damsel in distress.”

  “I have a problem that I thought you might be able to help me with.”

  “And why would we just help you? You must have good connections to know that we’re out here. Do you even know who we are?”

  “I have my suspicions.”

  “And what would those suspicions be?”

  “People who believe in a better future. For man, that is.”

  “The word is ‘rebels,’” he said, grinning as he moved nearer. “But I’m sure you knew that. Civilians don’t just know when rebels step foot in a sector,” he spoke, taking a swig from his bottle. “Now why would a pretty thing like you be looking for us? Assassin? A spy, maybe?”

  I hesitated to answer for a moment, but even these goons were better than returning to the estate and enduring more of Draven’s taunts.

  “Taurus Black,” I said.

  The man’s face flattened momentarily when the name crossed my lips and for a second I regretted saying it. Now, however, I had his attention.

  “Taurus Black?” the man said. “How do you know Taurus Black?”

  “He raised me.”

  “Yeah?” He adjusted his weight, glancing at the car with narrowed eyes. He pointed his chin toward it, his expression less than thrilled now. “He in the car? Is he with you?”

  “No,” I said, tempted to jump in the SUV and back out of the whole thing, but that wasn’t an option. The two men behind were alert now, their hands tight against their firearms. “He’s dead.”

  “Really?” the man in the beanie said, his lips curling into a smile that showed off teeth that hadn’t been given proper attention in weeks. “What a pity. And you said he raised you?”

  He took another step forward. I tensed, my fingers twitching to reach for the pistol behind me.

  “He was my mentor,” I said, lifting my chin at the man.

  “So? Then explain to us why you need our help.”

  “I have a Draak problem.”

  “Clearly. What else do people have?” He laughed. “Come. Come over to our fire. We’ll have some words and maybe a few drinks. What do you say?”

  The hair on the back of my neck went up as the man’s arm went around my shoulders, practically shoving me toward the camp. I casually adjusted my jacket, making sure my only weapon was covered as we made our way into the clearing

  18

  Everly

  . . .

  Rohkan was an old post, but the Falcons had made the best of it. Tents were set up in a haphazard fashion made of fabric, leather, tarps and other materials stitched together. Trinkets were hanging from posts. Pendants. Belts. Used bullet casings made into decorations. Clothes were draped over ropes stretched from one tree to another. I saw three campfires and around each one there were a half-dozen people, mostly men, but some women, all dressed in worn jeans, aged leather, and well-used shirts. I could smell meat and campfire smoke in the air. It reminded me of camping with Taurus, but I didn’t have time to reminisce. Everyone stared as I walked through the outpost and I stared right back, sizing everyone up in case it came down to a fight or a retreat.

  “I’m Tek, by the way,” the man said, finally taking his arm off of me. “And you are?”

  Again, I was hesitant to answer, but I pushed out half a name anyway.

  “Ever,” I said.

  We came to a fire that was set up in a concrete pit about a foot off the ground. The heat of it was a bit more potent than I liked, so I kept my distance. Tek sat down on a log nearby and poured some of his liquor into a metal cup that looked to have been thrown in a drunken frenzy more than once and offered it to me. I wanted to refuse, but I took the drink, planning on holding it just for looks. I kept my marked wrist by my side, the brand safely tucked beneath my jacket sleeve.

  “So tell me,” Tek said, trying his best to sound polite and proper while making an effort to cover his somewhat drunken slur. “What kind of problem are you really looking for help with?”

  I raised the cup to my mouth, pretending to take a sip. It was then that I caught a glimpse of something that made my skin crawl.

  Across the clearing by a brown truck was an iron cage just large enough to fit a few big dogs, only this cage housed a couple of young women, barely even of age. One of the girls was holding a boy, perhaps a couple of years younger than Ronan, with two gold eyes that glowed ever so slightly in the dark. They flashed my way before he turned tiredly into the woman’s arms.

  All three of the captives looked sick, their skin pale and ashy while dark veins spread along their exposed flesh. They were just out of the firelight’s reach, but I could make out enough to know I wasn’t imagining things. I lowered the cup, doing my best not to show an emotion that would give away how appalled I was. Tek looked over his shoulder at the girls and then turned back to me, his lips slanted into a lazy smile. He said nothing as if he was waiting for me to bring up the subject. I decided it was best to avoid the caged prisoners for the time being.

  “I have an issue with one Draak in particular,” I said. “He’s a member of the Draakir, so it’s not exactly something a hired hand can handle.”

  I was lying, but everything in my gut said it was best if I kept things secret until I knew if these people could actually do anything to help. Caged women and a Draak child told me these guys weren’t the type to hand out favors. “Foolish” was the only word that came to mind when I tried to describe myself.

  “You’re looking to have someone killed?” Tek asked, taking a small swig of his whiskey.

  The other two men lurked behind me, out of my field of view. I moved casually around the fire and sat myself on a log, acting as oblivious as possible.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I was hoping I could learn to do it myself.”

  “Really?” Tek asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Call it vengeance. He killed Taurus.”

  “Aahhh. So that’s it,” Tek said, visibly withholding a grin.

  “He was executed,” I said. “For killing Valerio, the Archon, whatever that means.”

  “Archons are like genetic kings to those creatures. A Pike like Taurus couldn’t kill one,” he laughed. “You shouldn’t believe those rumors. In fact, word is Taurus got himself arrested to protect himself from us. Can you believe that? The coward fled like the little bitch he turned out to be.”

  I slid my free hand into the pocket of my jacket to conceal the fist I was making. Taurus was no coward. I held my breath and despite wanting to gouge out Tek’s eyes, I was eager for more information now.

  “So you don’t think he killed him?” I asked, trying to seem indifferent.

  “No. Archons to Draak are like Alpha wolves to a bunch of house dogs. Taurus was a slayer when he was younger, but it would have taken more than one of him at his prime to take Valerio down. The only way he could have killed Valerio was if the Draak let him, which is impossible. Taurus fled because he tried to save the bastard. That’s what I think.”

  My throat closed up at the idea. It was so tight I could barely push my voice out.

  “So who did it?” I forced. “Who killed him?”

  “Who cares? Let’s talk about you. Who do you want to kill?”

  I cleared my throat, trying to dismiss the lump that was forming in it.

  “Just,” I shrugged. “The asshole who destroyed my life.”

  I faked another sip of my warm whisky and scanned the area, wondering how I was going to get out of this. Taurus would never be part of a grou
p who trafficked women and children. My nails dug into my palm just thinking about it and I had to loosen my fist to keep from breaking the skin.

  “So who are they?” I finally asked, jutting my chin toward the kennel-like enclosure by the truck.

  “Ahh,” Tek brushed it off. “Two Draak whores and a little one. They’re all being sold once we get the hell out of the sector.”

  “Sold? To who?”

  “Whoever pays the most,” he burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. The other men joined in the amused guffaws and I, trying not to express my disgust, chuckled with them and nodded.

  “So you traffic people?” I said, staring down at my cup.

  “They’re not people. But there are a lot of folks who like that kind of product anyway.”

  “Right,” I smiled, my mouth uncomfortably dry. My pulse was racing, making me sweat inside my jacket. I adjusted myself, feeling claustrophobic. The logical side of my brain was telling me to get a grip. I fanned one side of my jacket and took a deep breath. “So you’re coming into the sector, grabbing women and kids, and heading to the outer territories to sell them? How does that work?”

  “Why? Thinking of getting in on it?”

  How did Taurus ever get caught up with these people? It disgusted me to think he could have done such things, but now I knew why he’d warned me to stay away from the Falcons. I’d always thought it was because he didn’t want me to fight, but now the real picture was coming into focus. These people were monsters and they had nothing to offer me. I certainly had nothing to offer them either. They were as bad as the Draak.

  Looking around, there was nothing in that camp that was going to help me. I’d come for nothing. Less than nothing. I’d made things worse for myself. I’d stolen a car, hurt my very polite driver, likely made Draven very angry, and now I was getting suspicious vibes from a man who sold women and children to whatever sadistic bidder offered the highest price. On top of it all, Tek seemed to have a very different idea of who Taurus was. His theory was like a pebble in my shoe that I wasn’t going to forget was there anytime soon.

  Glancing at the two Ashlings and the young boy, I wondered if I could help their situation. The problem was that I was just one woman with a pistol and about fourteen bullets stuffed in the back of my pants. Looking around again, I reminded myself that everyone in that outpost was armed. I’d have no chance.

  “So, Ever,” Tek said with a gritty sigh. “Did Taurus ever say anything about us? The Falcons, I mean.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear disinterested. “A few things.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He said the Falcons were the most dangerous rebel group in the outer territories.”

  “Did he? Because he was a traitor. You know that, right?” His tone dropped into a deep seriousness that made my muscles rigid.

  “Is that so? He left me a couple years back,” I raised my brows with a smile, playing a bitter orphan. “I wouldn’t really know what he did in that time.”

  “You said you wanted to get revenge for his death.”

  Fuck. Every possible explanation drained from my mind. Standing, I smiled at Tek, ready to reach back and grab the pistol from my waistband.

  “Taurus raised me,” I said. “No matter what, Draak are the enemy. We at least had that in common.”

  I lifted the metal cup and took the entirety of the whisky into my mouth. It burned down my throat. Shaking off the unpleasant taste, I slipped one hand into my pocket and glanced up at Tek, searching for signs that he was starting to believe me. He gave none. Even in his intoxicated state, he wasn’t giving away anything. Instead, he lifted his bottle in offering, gesturing for me to approach for a refill. I wasn’t eager for another drink, but I was eager to try and soften him up, so I stepped toward him.

  As soon as I reached out, his free hand jutted up, grabbing my forearm. I jumped with a start as he set down his bottle and stood. With a quick push of my sleeve, he uncovered the slightly discolored handprint around my wrist. I stared at him as his eyes slowly traveled up to mine.

  “So?” he said, the alcohol on his breath hitting me like a punch to my nose. “You’re an Ashling.”

  “Not by choice,” I said through gritted teeth. “I want to know how to sever the bond.”

  “Death,” he shrugged. “One of you has to die. Simple as that. But, you know that all Ashlings, despite who their master is, feel a sense of loyalty, no matter what. It’s in the blood.”

  I scoffed. “No. Not with me. I want him dead.”

  “Well,” he said, his grip tightening. “Raised by a Falcon traitor. Bound to a Draak. I honestly don’t see how we could trust you.”

  There was a frozen moment when Tek and I both knew what I was going to do and I swear I saw him smile as I burst into action.

  Twisting my wrist out of Tek’s grip, I grabbed the whisky bottle with my other hand and threw it into the fire hard enough for the glass to shatter. The flames burst bright, splashing us with a distractingly intense heat while I reached back for my pistol. The men recoiled with the flames, but recovered too quickly and raised their weapons again. I wouldn’t have time to get off a shot. Bolting, I tried to make a run toward the woods rather than try to weave through the camp for the car. A shot was fired, hitting a tree just ahead of me to the right. Splinters stung my cheek as they flew toward me and, in a reflexive action, I ducked.

  Spinning, I fired two shots. One landed in the knee of the Pike, the other in the shoulder of his companion. I pivoted to get a shot off at Tek when I found him standing beside the iron cage, his six-shooter trained on the two women and the young Draak boy inside. All three were huddled together, whimpering with fear. I froze.

  “Drop it,” Tek demanded.

  I shook, teeth clenched with a desire to blow a hole in Tek’s skull, but the sound of their whimpering pulled my finger off the trigger before my mind could catch up. My grip on the pistol loosened and the firearm dropped to the ground with a muffled thump.

  “I thought so,” Tek said, ignoring the pained moans of his wounded men nearby. “You care about these things.” He beckoned someone nearby.

  Glancing over, I saw the whole camp was standing, weapons ready. A large, rough-looking woman with a bad haircut and a tall, slender man approached him.

  “The Draakir won’t let you take those people,” I snarled. “Even after you leave the sector, they’ll come after you.”

  “Not likely,” Tek said. “We have ways to avoid that.”

  The woman stepped over, training her rifle on the captives while Tek slipped his revolver into his belt. He started toward me, his drunken sway somehow disappearing now as he approached. I stood firm, fists clenched, and wondered if I could grab the pistol off the ground fast enough to make any kind of difference. Did it matter? In the end, I knew I was pretty much fucked. Here. At the estate. By myself outside the sector. I had nowhere to go. This might as well be how I go out…then again, after hearing what Tek said about Taurus, I wasn’t so sure I could be done fighting. Something was off and I felt a burning need to know the truth before I died.

  “I’d like to ask you some things, Ever,” Tek said, his tongue lazy in his mouth. He was still tipsy, even if his feet no longer showed it.

  “Seems to be the pattern,” I said. “I probably don’t have any answers for you.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, pacing slowly in front of me. “First off, who’s your master?”

  “Hmf,” I scoffed. “He’s not my master. And you? Where’s your boss? I want to talk to him.”

  “You don’t give us orders.”

  Just as he spoke, I heard a set of heavy footsteps coming up behind me. I twisted around to defend myself only to find a stone-hard fist in my face. It collided so hard with the side of my head that blackness pulsed over my vision as I spun to the ground. Before I could recover from the blow, fingers were tangled in my hair, wrapped so tightly it felt as if my scalp was going to tear from my skull. I was pushed down onto my sto
mach on the damp forest floor. Tek stepped up, crouching where I could see him as the full weight of my attacker pinned me down. From his belt, Tek pulled out a hunting knife and slowly moved it toward my forearm, lifting my jacket sleeve up enough from my wrist to see the Draak brand.

  “You know what this mark is?” Tek sighed, the whisky turning putrid on his breath.

  He grabbed my wrist with his free hand and stretched my arm out abruptly to my side. I struggled, but to no avail. Whoever had me locked in place was twice my weight. Perhaps twice my size. When I saw Tek’s blade sink into the flesh atop my wrist, I bit my teeth, withholding a scream. He moved the blade upward along my arm, cutting a long, deep groove in the flesh almost to my elbow. Unable to hold it in, I screamed behind a locked jaw and squeezed my eyes shut until he was done.

  “This mark makes you less than human, you know?” Tek said, keeping hold of my now bleeding arm. Warm blood dampened the soil further, pooling beneath me. “You know what your loyalty to Taurus makes you?”

  He waved his hand at the man holding me down who stood in an aggressive motion, lifting me from the soil and locking a solid arm around me from behind, his fingers grasping my neck with a firm, bruising grip. Tek stepped in close to me, the knife in his hand teasing the skin on my chest.

  “It makes you a traitor by association,” Tek said, cutting a quick, diagonal line from my left collarbone to the top of my right breast. I gasped with surprise, but stared him down, ready to endure whatever tortures the disgusting shit had in mind. “I do have a boss, by the way. He would like to meet you, I’m sure, but I don’t think he’d mind if I played around with you first. I don’t think my men would mind either,” he jeered, wiping the small bits of blood from his knife tip onto my cheek.

  Glancing around at the dozen men looking hungrily in my direction made my stomach twist. For a moment I heard my subconscious begging Draven to appear and burn the place to the ground. The idea struck me like an arrow in my head as I felt my captor’s large, rough hand coil around me from behind and grasp inconsiderately at my breast. I struggled, but he only held tighter. I could feel his unclean breath on my shoulder, but it was the hard, intrusive erection stabbing at my back that made me panic. I shoved at him, throwing my head back against his face. He yelped, a splatter of warm wetness spewing from his mouth and dripping down the back of my neck.