Bastard Stepbrother (Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

by Faye, Amy

  He walked around the farm, quickly but with enough care that he could finally start to feel the magic around the woods. Runes were burned into the soil, runes that would warn the farm if someone passed them. That might have been how they knew he was sleeping in the trees.

  Walking around the entirety of the farm took him a long while, over an hour. He was about to give up until he spotted it: a small pond. Runes couldn't be burned into a lake.

  “Perfect,” he said. His feet would get a bit wet, but he could easily pass through the pond and carry Cady out of the cult, back into her dad's arms.

  Walking back to the men's dorms, he wondered how Cady would react to the truth. Would she be happy to meet her dad, or would she feel betrayed? She might think he abandoned her, allowed her to be taken because he didn't care. That couldn't be further from the truth, but it could be hard to convince Cady of that.

  Edwin was a good man. He would figure it out. The man loved his daughter, and always held out hope that he would find her. He deserved the chance to make things right.

  Back in his room, he sat at his journal and reviewed the last page of notes. The cult may be dangerous and damn creepy, but their knowledge was vast and incredibly valuable. They had a book that revealed a possible new way to kill vampires: apparently they could be poisoning by water or blood laced with gold.

  He read over his notes, adding new ones from the books on his desk for a long while before he realized the room was silent. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the bed was empty. Cady wasn't there.

  “Cady?” He called, standing up. There was a piece of paper on the bed.

  Went to eat, will bring you food once I'm finished. Please don't be mad.

  He smiled, shaking his head. He put the paper on his desk then became overwhelmed with a desire to lay on the bed. Crawling into her spot, he pressed his face into her pillow. It smelled of lavender.

  Oh, he had it bad, and he knew it. His heart was hitting his chest like it was trying to punish him or break free. They needed to get away from the farm before he developed more than just a little crush on the woman.

  Turning, he faced the wall, as she commonly did when she was hiding the book she stole from the library. There, he found it wedged between the mattress and the wall. It had a white spine.

  History of the Necronomicon, the spine said. Pulling it out, he flipped through the pages and noticed some were dog-eared to bookmark information that was somehow important to her.

  He read the pages with some interest. One of them talked about a race of mind-hopping monsters that Dean could never imagine truly existed. Their form was illogical and evolution couldn't possibly favor 10 foot tall cone creatures with tentacles. What possible life could such a thing have?

  There were some words on strange cities with dark pasts or unbelievable architecture that couldn't work in any real, physical world. They were more like MC Escher paintings, the buildings the book described.

  Dean was about to take the book to his desk and start taking notes on the few things that made sense when he sat upright with a gasp. There was a drawing in that book, a drawing of a dark man with a long beard, wearing white robes and smoking a hookah. He looked exactly like the man from his dream.

  Abd al-Hazred, Or The Mad Arab Abdul Alhazred

  A mad poet of Sanaá, in Yemen, who is said to have flourished during the period of the Ommiade caliphs, circa 700 A.D. He visited the ruins of Babylon and the subterranean secrets of Memphis and spent ten years alone in the great southern desert of Arabia — the Roba el Khaliyeh or "Empty Space" of the ancients — and "Dahna" or "Crimson" desert of the modern Arabs, which is held to be inhabited by protective evil spirits and monsters of death. Of this desert many strange and unbelievable marvels are told by those who pretend to have penetrated it. In his last years Alhazred dwelt in Damascus.

  Of his final death or disappearance many terrible and conflicting things are told. He is said by Ibn Khallikan to have been seized by an invisible monster in broad daylight and devoured horribly before a large number of fright-frozen witnesses, including his only surviving son. Of his madness many things are told. He claimed to have seen fabulous Irem, or City of Pillars, and to have found beneath the ruins of a certain nameless desert town the shocking annals and secrets of a race older than mankind. He was only an indifferent Moslem, worshiping unknown entities whom he called Yog-Sothoth and Cthulhu.

  Dean shuddered. There was more on the man, but he needed a moment to process his find. Had he somehow heard of The Mad Arab before? No, he was certain he hadn't. Then how could he have dreamed him?

  There was one last section that had a corner bent, after the bit about The Mad Arab. Flipping to it, but promising he would read more on the dream man and take notes on him, Dean read the page on summoning The Black Pharaoh just as Cady walked in.

  The tray in her hand crashed to the ground. The food that had been on it spilled onto the hardwood floor.

  “It, it's not what it looks like...” Cady stammered, backing to the door, fumbling with the handle. She looked like a trapped animal, one that was ready to fight if she couldn't flee.

  “Hey, calm down.”

  “No! You're going to tell them, and then they're going to kill me!”

  “What?” Dean snorted. “I'm not going to fucking let them–”

  She finally got a grip on the door handle and burst from his room, before he could even think to follow her. He cursed and chased after the sound of her footsteps, hoping no one else heard and came to investigate.

  Chapter 8

  Cady

  Cady's feet pounded over the now muddy earth. Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead, her lungs were starting to burn. Her throat gasped for more air as she passed the buildings and ran towards the field.

  Her goal was clear: the woods. She had to get into the woods, away from Dean. He was going to expose her findings, force her back into Counseling.

  She knew that if she went back a second time, that would be where they would torture her.

  The muscles her her calves were beginning to cramp. Her thighs, unused to running, were sore and slowing her down. Mud clung to her bare feet.

  It was unbelievable that she could have been so stupid. Why did she think she could get away with keeping that book around? Stealing it from the library was her first sin, and she would pay dearly for it.

  She should have just minded her own business.

  Trying to force more breath into her throat, Cady finally reached the fields.

  Her internal self hatred continued. Of course Dean had been chosen to spy on her. Why would someone as broken as Cady be given to a man as if she were a prize? The only possible answer was that he was there to study her, and destroy her if she was still evil.

  Was she still evil? It was certain that she was a burden. Touched by a demon.

  That must have been why Dean refused to touch her. She should have seen it coming, darn it, but she hadn't.

  Over her head she heard a cackle. It was a deep, hollow sound that Cady couldn't quite comprehend, making her head dizzy. She looked up and saw 3 huge birds following her, circling over her head and crying.

  Her legs gave in and her whole body hit the ground, sliding into some sort of hole. She was tumbling, hurtling towards an unseen floor.

  It must have been the hole in the fields, she reasoned, but she was falling for an awfully long time. For minutes she rolled down a slope, painfully banging her hips and shoulders against the ground.

  Her body twirled and jerked. She started scrambling for something to grab, digging her fingers into the soil to slow her down. She hit a bump and she was in the air, time seemed to slow. A light was starting to glow as she got deeper into the hole.

  When she finally slammed onto the ground, she only rolled for a few more feet before she stopped. Her body was bruised and battered, more painful than it had ever felt before.

  She sat up, rubbing her neck. Lucky she didn't break it.

  Everything was
quiet around her. Looking around, she saw that she was in some sort of cave, the walls carved out of a shiny black rock. This was beneath the farm?

  Small, loose stones littered the floor. She picked up a few of them. They were chalky. Looking at the walls again, she noticed the drawings on them, made with those same chalky stones.

  The air was bitterly cold and humid as she stood. Stepping closer to the walls, she touched them with her hand. They were smooth like glass.

  The cold was beginning to creep under her clothes, but she was too fascinated by the strange runes and drawings that depicted some sort of religion.

  She remembered words from the book that had gotten her into all this trouble in the first place.

  With matchless skill had the artist drawn them in a world of their own, wherein they had cities and gardens fashioned to suit their dimensions; and I could not help but think that their pictured history was allegorical, perhaps shewing the progress of the race that worshiped them. These creatures, I said to myself, were to men of the nameless city what the she-wolf was to Rome, or some totem-beast is to a tribe of Indians.

  She gasped when she saw large drawings of the strange creature from her dreams. Even then, when she was sure to be killed, something was trying to get her attention. Why did the beings seem so familiar to her?

  Walking further into the cave, she drank in each of the drawings of The Great Race. She felt like a dog reading the bible. It sure seemed important, but she just couldn't understand it.

  She kicked something soft and horror caught in her throat. She didn't scream. If Dean didn't know she was in the cave, she didn't want to warn him of it.

  Looking down, she saw that it was a person. A woman. Janine.

  Dean

  Damn, that girl could run. In the dark, she had almost gotten so far from him that he couldn't see her. It was just the bright white of her shirt that allowed Dean to follow.

  Every time she ran past a building, he had to listen for her breath to know which direction she was going in. She sounded like she was going to pass out if she didn't slow down, her lungs were wheezing so bad.

  He couldn't call out to her without risking others hearing them. If they found out she was running, they might punish her. They might punish him for not keeping his 'pet' in line.

  His 'pet'. He wanted to be sick.

  When they were both past the buildings, he saw that he had gained on her a little bit. The fields were flat and there was nowhere that she could lose him. He just had to catch her before she reached the trees.

  He picked up the pace, swinging his arms to propel his body forward. His throat was parched and dry as the desert sun, but he ignored his pain. He ignored the pain in his sciatic nerve, another sign that he was damn old.

  The slapping of his large feet in mud was covered by the laughing call of those strange birds in the air. Their magic was raining down on them, but they weren't summoning the rest of the cult. They simply circled above Cady, giggling and chasing her in the sky.

  He looked back down, but she was gone. Gone. He couldn't even hear her anymore. The white of her shirt was nowhere to be seen.

  Stopping dead in his tracks, he started to panic. How could she have just disappeared? Did the birds lay some sort of spell on her? Could she have done a spell, somehow?

  Her footsteps were easily visible in the mud, so he followed them into the fields. He slapped his forehead when he saw where they stopped.

  The hole. Of course. She had fallen into it.

  Climbing down into the hole, he tried to keep himself quiet. Once on the bottom, however, he saw that there was more to the hole. There was an opening, carved of black rock. It almost looked volcanic, like glass made from the night sky.

  Moving quietly, he stepped into the cave. If he made too much noise, he might spook her and force her deeper down, where he might never find her. There could be any number of branches.

  Why was such a cave beneath the farm? There certainly wasn't any volcano nearby.

  Once inside, he could hear her pained grunts echoing off the close walls. She must have fallen, rather than purposefully escaped into the earth. He hoped she didn't break anything. He didn't want to have to carry her when they escaped.

  Wanting to run after her, he instead moved slowly over the unsure and unstable ground. It was incredibly dark, but there seemed to be light coming from deep within the cave. It glowed purple on the black walls.

  As the hill leveled off to flat ground, he heard a woman's voice whispering. Knowing that it must be Cady, Dean crouched and moved closer, listening to what she was saying.

  She's bent over another woman. “Come on, wake up,” she begged. Her voice wavered.

  “Is she okay?” Dean asked, standing and approaching Cady. She started and looked back at him. It was clear she wanted to run, but felt she couldn't leave her friend behind.

  “She's breathing, but...” The other woman started to cough, and it looked painful. Her hair was matted with what was probably blood. Had she also fallen into the cave?

  “Cady?” A small voice asked. The woman looked up at the red headed girl and managed a pained smile.

  “Shh, I'm here. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. It hurts, but… I've truly never been happier.”

  Dean saw Cady's face screw up, her head tilt. “Okay… who did this to you?”

  “I don't know. I woke up down here. The last thing I remember is getting my amazing news. Oh, I'm so happy.” The woman started to cry. “I'm so happy.”

  Cady's hands were trembling. “What good news, Janine?”

  Janine grinned, then coughed again. “Oh, Cady, I'm pregnant! And it could only possibly be The Priest's child!”

  Cady's gasp echoed off the walls. She looked to Dean. “You read the book, right? My bookmarked pages?”

  “A few of them. I read enough to know why that bothers you.” He crossed his arms. Her shoulders slumped forward, and so did the rest of her body. She ran her fingers through her hair, but they got caught in the tangles and she lost her will to fight through them. She was holding back tears, but only barely, with quivering lips.

  The cackle of birds called down to them.

  “Let's get her out of here.”

  Cady followed slowly as Dean carried Janine from the cave. She was thin and light, despite being fairly tall for a woman. He dropped Janine off outside of the cabin, at her behest. She wanted to walk into the building on her own two feet.

  In Dean's room, Cady only stood still. She didn't speak, barely opened her eyes.

  “I'm getting you out of here,” he said.

  Opening her eyes, she looked at him with a look he didn't expect. Anger. No gratitude. She was just one hundred percent pissed.

  “No.”

  “What the hell do you mean, no? If you don't get out, you'll be killed just as easily as they will.”

  “I'm not leaving my friends to die. Even if I leave, they're still going to summon that… that thing! What's the point? I have a feeling The Black Pharaoh won't come here in the hopes of joining with humans to create a utopia!”

  Dean stepped near to her. He could feel the heat coming off of her body. “I will help your friends if I can, but you have to leave. That's what I came here to do. I came to save you. If they bring The Black Pharaoh, I'll figure out how to kill him.”

  “How could you possibly kill what is clearly a god?”

  “I've killed a god or two in my life.”

  She snorted and looked away, but Dean pushed closer to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her body to his. She froze, and then the wall she had put up around her melted and she cried. She cried, and cried, and cried until all she had left was sniffles.

  He knew that he couldn't wait for her to be ready. He had to get her out before she could be ritually murdered.

  Chapter 9

  Cady

  Cady had a blissfully dreamless sleep that night. It was the first night that Dean had slept next to her instead of on the floor,
and the feel of his body next to her felt… safe. It felt like home.

  Her head hurt, no doubt because of the dehydration of crying into a man's strong chest until no more tears were left. The feeling of hopelessness had finally given away to a numbness, which gave way to determination.

  She would not leave without saving the other women. If it were just them, she could have maybe convinced herself, but now there were babies. Unborn babies, pure and unsullied yet by the insanity of their world. There was no way she could allow The Lore Keepers to slaughter them all and bring about…

  What? What exactly was The Black Pharaoh? What was his plan, his goal? What was the goal of the men who sought to summon him? Did they think they would be spared from whatever chaos he might carry?

  Dean was already gone. The sun told her that he would be in the library, rather than with The Priest. After changing into a new white shirt and gray skirt, running a brush through her tangled red hair, she stepped into the hallway. Dean had wiped her feet clean last night, before he let her lay in bed and sleep.

  It was an act of humility that had confused her. Everything about him confused her. Not once did Dean make her feel like a burden or someone he didn't care for, though he didn't know her. She wondered if he even knew that she had once been possessed.

  If he ever found out, he would likely stop being so kind to her. She would have to try and keep it a secret.

  She peeked through the doorway, seeing that Dean was reading and letting the gaggle of women do as they pleased. He was less and less interested in fighting with their natural tendency to do their own thing.

  Janine wasn't in the library with them, but that was normal. She usually spent the day with The Priest, and was rarely allowed to join their studying. Fury threatened to bubble over, but she swallowed it. The Priest. How could Cady be so devoted to a man, even then, after what she knew? Why did she feel that she belonged to him, owed him a debt?

  Dean raised his head and observed her as she walked in. He gave her a small smile before returning to his book, leaving her to do as she pleased. She went to the back of the library. Maybe there would be a book that would tell her more about The Black Pharaoh.