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Flames of Mars (Celestial Shifters Book 2)

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by Tjalara Draper




  Copyright © 2020 by Tjalara Draper

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any physical form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To the whirlwind un-tameable,

  the firecracker un-smotherable,

  the booty-shaker un-stoppable,

  the singer un-silenceable,

  the joy un-destroyable,

  My daughter Annabelle,

  the most magnificent of all Opals.

  xxx

  Contents

  Flames Of Mars

  Prologue

  1. Piña Coladas and Internal Hysteria

  2. Dog Shredder

  3. Booping Button Noses

  4. Mouth-Breathing Chihuahuas

  5. What Are You?

  6. Aeriform Communications

  7. Shattered Beyond Repair?

  8. Itty-Bitty Diamantium-Tipped Needle

  9. Trouble Written All Over

  10. Unfamiliar Soul-Trails

  11. “What the Hell” Keeps Coming to Mind

  12. Helix Hoax

  13. Here Kitty, Kitty

  14. It’s Time to Stop Moping

  15. Downright Dirty Fighter

  16. I Know What Cinnamon Means

  17. Speaking of Hurling

  18. Swarovski Crystal Statue

  19. Heavens Have Mercy

  20. Zhivotza

  21. Dirty Little Secret

  22. Corpse Diving

  23. Can’t Hide It, Flaunt It

  24. Absinthe Green

  25. Don’t Be So Naive

  26. Pliokai

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Tjalara Draper

  Flames Of Mars

  CELESTIAL SHIFTERS BOOK 2

  Prologue

  Sagan Branstone shone the flashlight into the cave’s gaping entrance, then checked the glowing numbers on his watch face. He was ten minutes early, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was the first to arrive.

  As much as he tried to ignore it, the nostalgia of this place unsettled him. He swiped his white-blond bangs out of his eyes and glanced at the outcrop of boulders to the left of the dark entryway. His little sister, Lyla-Rose, and his cousin Nika used to climb those rocks and pretend they were the princesses of the mountain, while Sagan and Nika’s older brothers would pretend to be knights come to defeat the princesses’ pet dragon.

  Get yourself together. Sagan shook his head. You’re not a child anymore.

  Shoving aside the memories, he stepped into the cave. Even without a flashlight, he would have had no trouble finding his way, weaving through the familiar passages until the narrow tunnel opened up into a large cavern with an underground pond at its center.

  Gravel crunched behind him and he swiveled, only to find the tunnel empty. His eyes narrowed as his mind raced back to another childhood game. He swung the flashlight’s beam to the rocky ledge above the tunnel’s opening—just as a young woman clad in black jumped down from it.

  Sagan didn’t have time to dodge. He oophed as she collided into him, but in a split second, his training kicked in. Rolling with the force of the fall, he attempted to pin his attacker, but the woman simply kept their momentum going until she was on top.

  Before she could lock Sagan down against the rocky floor, he bucked her off. He was about to gain the upper hand when a fist connected with his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he ground his teeth.

  “Fine. You wanna fight dirty?” he growled. He yanked the woman’s elbow up and dug his fingers into her ribs.

  A giggle escaped his victim and echoed around the cavern. “Stop it!” She wiggled under his tickles. “Stop!”

  “Not unless you yield.”

  “Never!”

  “Have it your way, Nika.”

  She screeched and squirmed as he continued to tickle her sides.

  “Okay! I yield.”

  Sagan smirked. He released her and stood up, but before he could take a step, Nika kicked his feet out from under him, and he slammed back into the ground.

  “Hah!” Nika’s victory cry echoed around the cavern. She stood and dusted off her clothes.

  Sagan grumbled and reached for his flashlight before he got to his feet. As soon as he was up, Nika yanked him in for a hug.

  “It’s good to see you again, Saggy-Aggy.”

  Sagan groaned. “Must you keep calling me that?”

  She grinned and nodded vigorously, making her light brown curls bounce. “Indeed I must. And by the way, I win.”

  “Yeah right, only because you cheated.”

  “Only because you never learn.”

  “What do you mean? Learn what?”

  “You always believe it when someone says they yield.” She placed a hand on her hip, the pious stance eerily similar to what Lyla used to do during their sibling fights.

  Sagan pushed away the familiar pang of grief. “I do not.”

  “Yep, you did it even when we were kids.”

  He frowned.

  “Don’t worry, cuz. Maybe one day you’ll learn.” Nika patted him on the shoulder, then shrugged. “Or you won’t, and one day you’ll play Mr. Nice Guy to the wrong creature and get yourself killed.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t form any words.

  After a few heartbeats, Nika reached for a camping light he and his cousins had hung up many years ago. Sagan’s eyes snapped shut when the bright blaze shattered the darkness. He peered through squinted eyelids, but the brightness only intensified as Nika turned on a second light.

  “Can you believe these things still work?” Nika asked.

  Sagan blinked, letting his eyes adjust. “Of course they still work. They’re powered with Luxium energy cores.”

  The extra light showcased the abandoned trinkets of their past: some blankets, teddy bears, action figures. Dusty playing cards were still strewn everywhere from the time Nika’s oldest brother had lost a game of Scumbags and Warlords and angrily flung them on the ground. Sagan realized with a twinge of sadness that the card game had occurred during the last time he, his sister, and his cousins had visited their childhood hideout. Their annual family camping trips had stopped about eight—or was it ten?—years ago, thanks to Sagan’s grandfather, who expected more and more from them in the family hunting business.

  Sagan heaved a heavy sigh to release the building tension in his chest, then raised his eyes to the jagged ceiling. Water drops collected on several of the stalactites and fell to the pond’s surface with a melodious dink-dink-dink. He breathed in the rich, earthy air laced with the calming scent of mineralized water.

  Nostalgia washed over him again, but this time it brought a sense of peace. “Would you look at this place? So many great memories, huh?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Nika.

  Sagan followed a path of stepping stones through the cave pond. The wall on the other side had several natural recesses he and his cousins had used as a pantry, where they’d stashed their candy bars, snacks, and assorted cans of food. A number of items still remained—a lot more than he remembered from last time—although all of it had likely gone rancid.

  He picked up a can of peaches and frowned. There was barely any dust on it, and it
was well within its expiration date.

  Nika snatched the can off him. “So, Saggy-Aggy, what’s the deal? It’s been what, almost a year? And I’ve heard nothing from you. No texts, no calls, not even a smoke signal.” She punched his arm, hard. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Close, but not quite,” he said with half a smirk.

  “It’s not funny, Saggy.”

  “Believe me, I wasn’t laughing.” He rubbed his thigh, remembering all too clearly the agony of Axel’s barbed crossbow bolt.

  “Yeah, well, you could have died, you idiot. And for what? To help a Veniri vermin escape the bunker?” She shook her head in disbelief. “What the hell possessed you?”

  “Yeah, about that . . .” Sagan scratched the back of his neck, and his lips pressed into a grimace. “That was one of the reasons I got in touch. I . . .” He glanced around the cave. “Did you tell anyone you were coming?”

  “No.” Nika scoffed. “You told me not to.”

  “What about your brothers? Are you sure neither of them followed you?”

  She crossed her arms. “I can sneak away from my brothers when I need to.”

  Sagan sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “How are your egghead brothers anyway?”

  “Fine. But to be honest, it’s your dad who’s gone off the rails.” Nika’s face scrunched up in disgust. “And I’m not the only one who thinks that. An exchange went down a few months ago, and a hunter came back without a head.”

  “So?”

  “So, it wasn’t a shifter that killed him. Apparently, Uncle Matthias was the one who chopped it off.”

  “What?”

  “I’m serious, Sagan. More than one hunter who was there saw the same thing.”

  Sagan shook his head. “Look, I know better than anyone that my father’s a royal ass, but he doesn’t ki—”

  “What? ‘Kill our own?’ Don’t be so naive. The hunter code has become a joke,” she practically spat.

  Her words were like a slap to the face. Sagan’s hand shot compulsively back to his thigh, kneading the silvery scar hidden beneath his black jeans. What was wrong with him? He of all people should know what his dad was capable of. After all, what kind of father sends a hunter after his own son?

  Nika’s eyes glistened with—was that tears? When had Nika developed the ability to cry? “Ever since Uncle Matthias started making deals with our prey and taking on human bounty orders, things have gone way off the rails. Hunters aren’t just losing their heads. Some are going missing.”

  “Hunters go missing all the time.”

  “Yeah, but only if they’re out in the field. And that’s not all. His obsession with the winged shifters has exploded to the next level.”

  Sagan rolled his eyes. “He’s been obsessed with those fairytales since forever. Winged shifters, cities in the clouds, interdimensional portals, immortality.” He counted them off on his fingers. “He’s the only hunter who hasn’t grown out of believing those myths.”

  Nika shook her head in sharp jerks. “Myths or not, things are out of control, Sagan. Your dad is out of control.”

  “Yeah, well”—Sagan raked his fingers through his hair—“tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you returned? To maybe . . .”

  “What?” He scowled. “Talk some sense into him?”

  Nika chewed on her lip, staring into space for a few seconds. “I was thinking maybe you could call Grandpa.”

  “No.”

  “Just hear me out. I think . . .”

  Sagan shook his head aggressively, shutting out the rest.

  “Come on, Sagan. You’re the only grandkid he’ll listen to.”

  “Get your dad to do it.”

  “My dad’s a coward. You know that. It’s got to be you.”

  “I said no! Not after what Grandpa did. Not after what he put my mother through.”

  Nika threw her head back and groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re still whining about that? Your mom was the one who left, remember? She abandoned you.”

  “Don’t say that,” Sagan growled through his teeth. “You’re using their words. My mother never would have left like that.” He tore his gaze from Nika. “You’ll see. One of these days I’ll find out what happened to her.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Nika waved an indifferent hand and turned her back on him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Saggy.”

  Sagan gritted his teeth, ready to unleash a barrage of verbal abuse on her, but he knew Nika wasn’t the one who deserved it. For a few moments, the only sound in the cavern was the subtle drip of water falling into the pond.

  At last, Sagan turned away and scratched the back of his neck, his fingers catching the black chain that held the hunter amulet tucked under his shirt. Every hunter amulet held ten tiny glass vials, each to be filled with a sample of luminescent blood from the hunter’s first kills of each shifter race. Sagan’s particular amulet was in the shape of his family crest.

  He glanced back at Nika. For once, her amulet wasn’t center-stage on her chest. Sagan frowned—it wasn’t like his cousin to keep it hidden. Usually she kept her amulet on display for all the world to see.

  Out of habit, he rolled his own chain between his fingers as he scanned their surroundings. A stretcher with a sleeping bag and pillow had been pushed up against one wall. A canvas camp chair sat beside it, along with a small pile of books.

  The dust-free can of peaches and extra food supplies suddenly made sense. “You’ve been staying here?”

  Nika’s lips pinched together in answer.

  “How long?”

  She shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “I dunno. Maybe a week or two.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you.” She leaned against the cavern wall, planted her foot behind her, and crossed her arms. “Things are out of control back home.”

  “Who knows you’re here?”

  “So far”—she gave him a pointed look—“only you.”

  “But what about your brothers?”

  “Either my brothers are too stupid to figure out I’ve left, or they just don’t care. You’re the only other person to step foot in this cave since I arrived.”

  None of this made any sense. A minute ago she was criticizing his mother for leaving. What had happened to make Nika leave her family and the other hunters she’d fiercely defended her whole life?

  He dragged his hands down his face. “Gee, Nika. I, um . . . are you okay?”

  “So, what about you? Last I heard, Axel was trying to impale you with his trident. Where have you been this whole time?”

  Sagan’s lip twitched. Trust Nika to change the subject when she was the one under the emotional microscope. “Yep, good ol’ Dad getting Axel to do his dirty work again.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Enough hedging. Where have you been?”

  “Ah, you know.” He gave her a sidelong look. “Here and there.”

  “Hmm . . .” Nika studied him through narrowed eyes.

  Sagan tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. He’d always trusted his cousin and never hesitated to confide in her, especially after Lyla-Rose died. But telling Nika he’d spent the last ten months in Maple Shire with Violet could rain down terrible consequences on the small community who’d opened their homes to them. Not to mention, there could still be a bounty order out with Violet’s picture on it; Nika could very well jump at the chance for the generous reward.

  As the youngest of his family, Nika had earned a cutesy reputation as a child due to her small stature, Shirley Temple blue eyes, and bouncy curls—a reputation she’d despised and fought hard to erase. She definitely didn’t lack the ability to rain down serious chaos on a small town like Maple Shire, all by herself.

  Sagan cleared his throat and did his best to appear casual. “Anyway, the reason I contacted you. I was wondering if you happened to remember that bounty order for a particular Veniri called Nathan Delano.”

  Nika snorted. “You mean the one you stu
pidly helped escape?”

  Sagan shifted his weight to the other foot. “Right, him. I was hoping he hadn’t been tracked down yet.”

  “Ha! Fat chance of cashing in on that one, cuz. That stupid slith went back to his house and was picked up the same day you went missing.”

  Sagan cursed under his breath. “So, he’s already been harvested then.” His head fell into his hands as a fiery rage boiled inside him. Of course Nathan’s house had been the first place his father looked. What was Violet going to say? Should he even tell her? Why couldn’t he do anything right?

  “No.” Nika cut through the onslaught of Sagan’s thoughts. “That one wasn’t harvested. He was taken to Tempecrest Island instead.”

  “What?” Sagan’s jaw dropped. “To the fight pits? Since when do Veniri get thrown in with the werewolf gladiators? Their Diamantium is way more valuable undamaged.”

  Nika shrugged. “Like I said, your dad’s gone off the rails. He sent three Veniri to Tempecrest.”

  “Three!” Sagan ground the heel of his palm against his forehead. The Diamantium shards of one Veniri alone could pay for the full Ivy League tuition of three students.

  “Yeah, and from what I hear, that Veniri you’re crushing on is building quite a reputation. Him and that other slith, hmm . . . what’s his name? Zane?” Nika frowned. “No, that’s not right.”

  Sagan’s heart began to thump faster in his chest. “Thane?”

  “That’s it! Wait, how did you know that?”

  “And you’re sure this other one, Thane, he’s definitely Veniri?”

  Nika cocked an eyebrow. “Yes.”

  He gripped his skull with both hands. What were the chances of there being two Thanes? Violet had never mentioned Thane being Veniri. Did she know? But if Violet’s Thane was Veniri, that would mean her baby . . .

 

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