“I’m a woman with simple needs, Mr. Brandywine. I already told you. I fully intend to have you make me bacon every morning for the rest of my life.”
“You realize that’s not exactly a good reason to dedicate to someone, right?”
I wrinkled my nose, lifted my chin, and turned my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “If you’re looking for sane, you’re barking up the wrong tree, mongoose. Maybe I just like bacon that much.”
“Or you have no social skills, have no idea how to have a relationship with anyone, so you’re willing to work with what you understand, which happens to be bacon.” Laughing, he lifted his head, reached out, and flicked bubbles in my direction. “And you prefer lycanthropes because you understand once you land a lycanthrope, you don’t have to have relationship skills; he’ll make it work because the virus ensures it.”
As I couldn’t deny his accusation, I shrugged. “So what?”
“Are you actually monogamous?”
“I’ve tried relationships. The bastards kept looking at other women, so I left before I resorted to murder.”
“You haven’t actually murdered any of them, have you?”
“I don’t date my prey. That’s just rude.”
“You just strut so they notice you, then?”
“Well, how else am I going to get close enough to kill them?”
Justin grimaced. “How many bodies have you left hidden around? Dare I ask?”
“Why would I hide the bodies?” I asked.
He jerked his head up, his eyes wide. “What do you do with them, then?”
“Report them anonymously so that the police can bury the fuckers. I don’t leave messes to be cleaned up. I kill my victims properly, thank you. And unless they have habits of leaving their victims on their door step, I don’t leave their bodies just lying around anywhere. No, Mr. Brandywine, I very deliberately leave my bodies to be found, along with a very detailed explanation on why I killed them.” Frustration over having been thwarted by a mongoose welled up, and I wailed, “It’s not fair! You slit his throat and just left him there. How could you? That’s so sloppy.”
“And here I was worried your erratic behavior was due to the shock of seeing a corpse.”
“No, it was due to the shock of some sloppy jerk stealing my kill and just leaving him on the step for anyone to find. I had it planned to the minute. You hear me? I had it planned to the minute.”
“You’re not going to accept any excuses, are you?”
“There is no excuse for a sloppy murder. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“You have no problems with me killing, you just have a problem if I don’t do so with the proper grace?”
“That sounds about right, yes.”
“There’s a word for people like you, Tulip.”
“Insane? Psychotic? Sociopathic? I have an entire dictionary of words that match my base tendencies. All of them come from a psychiatric health dictionary for some reason.”
“I was more thinking along the lines of incredible, but those might fit, too. So, you have jealous tendencies and the desire to murder any man you’re with who strays. How do you reward undying loyalty?”
“I’m not into dead people.”
Justin groaned, hung his head, and then laughed. “Neither am I.”
“That’s good. I can work with a mutual disinterest in necrophilia. I killed a necrophiliac once. I drew lines on that job. I beat him with a stick rather than violating him, because that’s just damned gross. Actually, I stuck to standard physical violence and made do when I killed the real sickos. It was a challenge sometimes. Still, I made them all suffer the hells they put their victims through.”
“I’m strangely relieved you have limits.”
“I have rather strong urges to bite men I want to keep around permanently. I haven’t bitten anyone yet, mainly because I’d kill them. That really puts a damper on potential relationships. I don’t want to be a black widow. I’m a black mamba. What’s the point in having a man if he’s just going to fall over dead on me?”
“Two things. First, I’m a yellow mongoose. I can—and have—eaten black mambas for breakfast. Second, I was initially hired because your father could bite me without needing a new bodyguard. I’ve learned black mambas have an inherent need to bite someone when they’re pissy. Really, my job mostly involves being available if your father needs to bite without killing someone. I tend to protect others from your father instead of the other way around.”
“I’m considering recruiting you as my partner. As such, you’ll never heel at my father’s command ever again. Should he try to make you heel, after I’m done beating him to death, I’m going to make sure you’ve learned your lesson. I have no problems with you continuing your efforts to keep him alive. For some reason, I almost like him.”
“I’m sure his contributions to your life have something to do with that. Otherwise, he’s somewhat annoying.”
“He is. And his parents? They’re almost as bad as my mother’s parents. Now, that said, I’ll tolerate them if they take me to jump out of perfectly good planes some more. I liked that.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“I probably won’t have a long lifespan. That, plus I’m technically a serial killer. I just happen to prefer killing other serial killers. So, one of these days, I’m probably going to be tossed in prison or executed.”
“Just how many people have you killed?”
“This year?”
Justin closed his eyes, slumped beside the tub, and sighed. “Sure, let’s start with this year.”
“If you hadn’t so rudely taken my kill, I would have had two serial killers in the bag. I bit a few people in the minotaur’s prison. They were dying, and I wasn’t sure they could be saved even at a good hospital. They were too far gone.”
Cracking open an eye, the lycanthrope watched me. “How’d you know?”
I tapped my nose. “Death has a scent, and it clung to them. They were in really bad shape. I left one alive hoping he might be saved.”
“Excuse me,” he murmured, rising and striding out of the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard him speaking to my father and telling him there might be a survivor on the minotaur’s lair. He hesitated, and then confessed I’d bitten several victims as mercy killings. When he returned, he was still naked and didn’t have his phone with him. “He’ll take care of it. If it can be verified it’s a mercy killing, it won’t be much of an issue. At worst, he’ll pay a fine to the survivor’s family and swear under oath they were put out of their misery and couldn’t be saved.”
“I could make that oath.”
Justin crouched beside the tub. “He’ll be happier if he deals with it. He’s a typical gorgon. The idea his daughter is self-reliant won’t settle well. Females in gorgon society are treated like prized jewels to be protected and treasured by the leader of their hive.”
“I absolutely refuse to share my man,” I hissed.
“I find this very promising.”
I scooted in the tub to make space, although it’d be a tight fit if he decided to join me. “I don’t share men, but I’m willing to share my bath. You seem to have misplaced your clothes. You have to be cold. The water’s warm.”
“I should be reminding you I’m a lycanthrope, which makes your suggestion a rather dangerous one.”
“I’m pretty sure we already determined I have no social skills, and I’ve already come to terms with the reality I’m never going to be a good girlfriend or whatever it is I’d be.”
“As I’m a lycanthrope, you’d have to accept the title of wife. I don’t mind accounting for your relationship handicaps, although I’ll have a few rules.”
“What rules?”
“No escaping allowed. Once you’re mine, you’re mine. I will hunt you should you try to run. I’ll even enjoy it.”
“No heeling at my father’s command. That’s not allowed.”
“You realize that was a hunting strategy, right?
If I’m at his feet in a crouch and he uses his gaze, I won’t be affected by it. When he whistled, he indicated he was ready to petrify our opponent. I lured the minotaur into your father’s range. I wasn’t heeling.”
“You heeled like a well-trained dog. Never again.”
“What should I do, then?”
“Bite him.”
“You’re being unreasonable about this.”
“No, I’m not. There will be no heeling. You can go stand behind him looking smug, but none of this crouched at his heels like a good dog. I’m unwilling to negotiate on this point.”
Justin rose, dipped a toe into the tub, and joined me. I expected him to slide in, which he did. However, he did so in such a way I sprawled over him, and his chuckles rumbled in his chest. “I accept your terms. If you’re going to insist on hunting serial killers, I’m going to insist you do so through legal channels.”
I jerked, sitting up so I could stare at him with wide eyes. “There’s a way to kill them legally?”
He sighed. “Yes. It requires licensing with the CDC and certain law enforcement organizations, but yes. There are ways. You really didn’t know?”
“What I was doing had been working until you came along and stole my kill!”
“I’ll help you get legalized, and I’ll even help you with the hunt, but you’re going to have to walk me through all your past kills so I know what I need to do to protect you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my father’s bodyguard?”
“If he fires me, he fires me. I’m a lycanthrope. The instant I take you to my bed, you’ll be my top priority for the rest of our lives, and all other loyalties come second. I’m sure there’ll be an excessive amount of whining from certain individuals.”
“I have this tendency to wander off. You probably want some nice, reliable woman.”
“I’d get bored,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m also willing to put up with the heat cranked up so you won’t get cold.”
“And my bacon?”
“Most mornings, I’ll make you bacon. I’ve learned it’s best to come armed with food to keep cranky snakes happy in the morning. Bacon is a common weakness among gorgons, and I’ve learned to take advantage of it. I think I’ll be enjoying my morning bacon duties a great deal more in the near future.”
“Does it have to be your bed? Because really, right now, that’s a deal breaker. I’m going to have a hard enough time getting back to mine.”
“I’m not worried. For now, enjoy your bath, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Nothing lately worked to plan, not that I had much of a plan. Aware of my bruises, Justin held me in the tub, and he was so warm I was content to stretch out on top of him and doze while the water soothed my aches and pains.
“Did you break anything?” Justin asked, sliding his hands along my arms.
“Shouldn’t you have asked that earlier?” I shrugged, grimacing at the pull of strained muscles. “I shifted enough times that if I cracked anything, it’ll hold.”
“I should have, but I didn’t realize how bruised you were. You seemed energetic. After, we were too busy wrestling to worry about it. I’ll know better in the future. You have no sense of self-preservation.”
“Lately, I haven’t,” I agreed. “I’m usually a lot more careful. I’m just tired. I’m tired of running, hiding, and waiting to be hunted down, too.”
“Well, there’s no reason you can’t rest, relax, and regroup for a while. Once you’ve had a chance to heal, we can evaluate the situation. I’ll definitely need to research your kills and find out how hard it’ll be to hide them—or create enough evidence to legalize your targets. I expect this’ll cost your father a great deal of money. It’ll make him feel better about himself, especially when he realizes you’re as much of a predator as him and your mother. Gorgon females are vicious, but only when they’re threatened. That’s a trait of the males, and males are rare.”
“My father is an endangered species?”
“Essentially. From what I can tell, he wants to begin rebuilding his hive with your mother as his harem queen. He was hoping to begin gathering new females by making an arrangement with another hive, trading the matured daughters of a hive. In exchange, you’d become a gorgon prince’s surrogate, his harem queen. Your father’ll have to make another plan, as I’m going to claim you for myself despite his wishes.”
“You tricked me,” I accused. “You ran so I’d chase you.”
“And I hoped you were as weak against bacon as your father. In case you were wondering, you’re even worse.”
“I also have a weakness for lollipops.”
“Only the ones with pixie dust in them.”
“Well, yes. Why else would I want a lollipop?”
“I can probably make sure you get a lollipop now and then if you’re good.”
A better woman wouldn’t have fallen so easily to bribes. “How am I supposed to be good?”
“You’ll let me carry you to bed, get you tucked in, and I’ll call in a doctor to make certain you’re all right. Then I’m going to join you in bed and mark my territory until there’s no doubt you’re mine.”
“I have this tendency to want to bite,” I warned him.
“I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me. If you like to bite, bite. You’re not going to hurt me. Even if you do, I’ll heal. I’m just worried I’ll hurt you.”
I hissed. “I’m not a fragile little flower.”
“No, you’re not. You didn’t even need us to come to your rescue, did you?”
“The minotaur would’ve gotten bored and wandered off eventually—or I would’ve dropped on his stupid head and bitten him so many times he frothed at the mouth. Either way, I would’ve won. You just made my escape easier.”
“And you really weren’t lured there?”
“No. I told you, I was bored. I decided to see if I could solve a mystery. I just did a sweep of the forest and nosed around as a snake until I found the minotaur’s lair. I found a bunch of camping gear on top of one of those stone pillars, so I figured there was a body in the area. I’d been searching for bones. If I found any, I was going to send them to a lab for identification, then I’d handle it depending on what I found. That’s usually how I find a serial killer; I find the victims first, learn what I can about them, then go after their killer.”
“How long can you go before you get bored?”
I laughed and shrugged. “Not long. Sorry.”
“It’s a good thing I appreciate a challenge. It wouldn’t do for either one of us to get bored.”
About the Author
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter.
In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.
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Kiss of Frost
Graceley Knox
Kiss of Frost © copyright 2018 Graceley Knox
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either t
he product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Kiss of Frost
Fighting to save a family of dragons from evil mages? Easy.
When Ivy thwarted an intruder trying to break into her family’s antique shop, she never thought she’d end up stuck in the middle of a dangerous war between mages bent on harnessing the last bit of dragon magic and dragons trying to stay safe.
Frost dragon Beck has been freed from his prison only to learn that his brothers aren’t so lucky. With the help of Ivy, Beck works tirelessly to ensure the safety of his family as well as the safety of the woman who owns his heart.
Will Ivy be able to find Beck’s family before it’s too late? Or will Beck’s icy temper jeopardize the safety of his family?
Prologue
Betrayal.
The place reeked of it. Blood and sweat torn from those who'd been sacrificed for gold, power, or something far less valuable—but just as costly. Iron chains secured Beck's arms to his sides, preventing him from using any of his magic.
Mages and their tricks. They'd finally caught up with his clan and now Beck and his brothers would pay the price. He twisted against his restraints. No give, not even an inch. All of this chaos, this unnecessary destruction, for a chance at power.
Human greed had never known any bounds.
The Sarkany Clan had avoided the Order of Ophal for centuries, but one simple mistake had put their entire future at risk. Beck had trusted the wrong man, a human, and never would again. Guilt and fury slammed into him like a thousand violent waves as two lesser mages grabbed Ryker by his throat to secure chains about his neck. Ryker thrashed against the magic-laced bonds that, with each touch, burned with more potency than the sun itself.
Sirens and Scales Page 46
