Bastard Stepbrother (Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)

by Faye, Amy

  She took out each book that she found that might describe demons or deities, flipping to their indexes to find any reference to the being. It took three bookcases before she found one that mentioned him.

  The Black Pharaoh, or The Crawling Chaos

  The spawn of Azathoth. He is most commonly known as Nyarlathotep by his many cults, this being the one name in common between them.

  A being of a thousand forms, a thousand names, a thousand lives and a thousand deaths.

  Though he has cults that serve Him, He serves the cults of other vile deities, such as Cthulhu. His tongue speaks all languages, using them to enact the will of the Outer Gods.

  The Brotherhood of the Beast have a prophecy that this being will one day call the Outer Gods to earth and organize them to create Nyarlathotep's own perfect world. The prophecy does not describe the perfect world, however.

  Cady shuddered. She knew that the perfect world The Priest was trying to create could not possibly be a utopia. It had to be evil. Pure evil. A living hell.

  She kept the book and went to Dean. When he looked up and saw that her face was as white as a ghost's, he stood.

  “Ladies, it's been a pleasure, but I think we will end today early. Take a break, and feel free to take a novel back to the cabin with you.”

  The women left, chatting and giggling, ogling Dean as they exited. Oh, that's strange, thought Cady. Do I feel possessive of Dean?

  She rolled her eyes. Of course she didn't. She felt annoyed by him, threatened by him, but there was no way she felt possessive of him.

  “You were pale just a moment ago, and now your face is red.” Dean gave her a lopsided grin. “Something up?”

  “I found something about The Black Pharaoh,” she said, willing her face to cool and her blush to leave. She handed him the book and watched his beautiful face as he read. It went from interest, to disgust, to horror.

  “Cady, look.”

  “No,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “No, listen to me. I'm taking you, tonight. We'll come back to save them, if we can. I promise. I don't want this thing called any more than you do, but –”

  She didn't want to want his touch. She didn't want to need his kiss.

  Her wants and needs seemed to defy all reason.

  He caught her chin with his hand and kissed her again, more softly. The gentleness took her breath away more than his ferocity had. She gave in, abandoned her sense of duty, just for a moment. His kiss burned, his soft lips searing her soul.

  His hips pressed up against her. She felt him as he hardened, her hands grabbing his shirt in fistfuls and pulling him closer to her.

  Her sudden change startled him, made him back away from her.

  "Shit," he said, shaking his head. "We need to not do this."

  "I need you to do this, Dean," she said, her voice low.

  "I'm takin' advantage of you," he said, his accent returning.

  "Like hell, you are. Come here before I take advantage of you!" She laughed, but he only backed away again. Fury course through her veins, along with embarrassment at being shunned. She slapped him again, to teach him a lesson, but it made his desire return.

  She was slammed against the bookcase even harder, with a gasp and a laugh. His teeth sunk into her neck, biting into her skin. He hit just the right muscle to make her nipples tingle, going hard.

  Deft hands made quick work of her skirt, bunching it up around her hips. Her hands undid his jeans, pushing them down and letting his manhood spring free.

  She couldn't see it, but her hand felt it. He was large, the texture soft. It pressed up against her slit, rubbing back and forth as they kissed again.

  His fingers touched her mound, pushing her panties out of the way and opening her slit to prepare her for him. She was dripping wet between her legs.

  She lifted her left leg and wrapped it around his hips, shifting her position just enough to press his head against her hole. He entered her, slowly. Both held their breath until the head of his cock pressed against her cervix.

  She hauled in a sharp breath and tensed. Yeah, he was big. It hurt, but not for long.

  His mouth devoured hers as he took her, their tongues playing and exploring the soft texture of their mouths. Her orgasm came slowly at first, like waves of drugged bliss. He spilled inside of her, and kissed her again.

  "Please, leave with me. Tonight."

  Cady shook her head. "I can't. I have to save them."

  He gave her a frustrated look, his eyebrows stitching together. As he left her, he sighed.

  "You have one day. Tomorrow night, we leave, whether your friends are safe or not.”

  Dean

  He woke up with her, his arms draped over her delicate shoulder. Burying his face into her hair, he breathed in and sighed. She smelled like him.

  Slowly taking his hand from her grip, he leaned back and stretched the muscles of his back and arms, stifling a yawn so he wouldn't wake her. She woke up anyway, turning to look back at him with a bleary-eyed smile.

  “Sorry, I tried to be quiet,” he said sheepishly, bringing her into his arms again.

  “That's alright. Looks like we should both be awake anyway.”

  They laid in the bed for a long time like that, just existing together. Both had work to do, but neither wanted to leave and face that world yet.

  Finally, Dean said something. “Your dad is going to kick my ass.” He chuckled, but it sounded a bit like a groan, too.

  “Huh?” She asked, turning again to face him. “My dad is dead.”

  Oh, yeah. She didn't remember their first night together. Shame threatened to wash over him again, but he ignored it. “Your dad is who sent me to come get you. He's been looking for you for a long time.”

  “But, my mom always said...”

  “Your mom stole you from him. He never told me why, or what happened, but she took you and never contacted him again. But nah, he's not dead. Just missing a few pieces and any patience for his friends, you know, sleeping with his daughter.”

  She brought a finger up to her mouth and thought. She looked so serene and beautiful to him. “What's he like?”

  “A pain in the ass, mostly. But that's only to me. From what I know about you, though,” he touched his finger to her nose, “You get all of your looks from your mom and your personality from your dad. But I don't want to color your opinion of him before you meet. He's a good man, though. A damn good man.”

  “What's his name?” Her eyes were glistening with tears.

  “Edwin,” he answered. “And he's so excited to meet you.”

  Dean played with her hair and kissed her forehead. “Come on. I have to go deal with The Priest, and you have to go convince whoever you're gonna convince to come with us.”

  They showered together in Dean's private bathroom, then dressed. Before she left, he pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers with a smile. “Don't get us caught, okay? Only try to bring those that you trust.”

  “I know.”

  She left, with him watching her hips sway with each step. Damn, it was gonna hurt to drop her off with Edwin. Dean was sure that his friend would never approve of their relationship.

  Well, miracles sometimes happened. Better to focus on the task at hand, though.

  It was the meetings with The Priest that most annoyed and worried Dean. The women he taught rarely payed enough attention, so that if he let slip some sort of anti-cult thought, they likely wouldn't have even heard it.

  The Priest, though? The Priest was listening. If he said the wrong thing, that would be the end of his rescue mission. It was the worst when he was asked if he still loved Olivia. Lying and saying yes was like stabbing himself in his own heart.

  No, Dean was certain there wasn't a drop of love left for Olivia in his body. Not after what she did. Not after what she became. That bridge was burned.

  A metallic smell wafted through the breeze and caught his attention. Blood, tainted with multiple forms of magic.
Opening the door to the office, the first thing he saw was the secretary.

  Or, rather, her body.

  “Shit,” he groaned, stepping closer. Her body was still sitting upright in the chair, rigid and almost like she was still alive. Blood spilled into her desk, the papers she was reading and the lunch she was eating soaked in it.

  Hers was not the blood mixed with magic, but he didn't expect it to be. There was someone else in the office. The secretary's head was in the hallway, looking up at him as if to give him a macabre greeting. There was a slight smile on her lips.

  As he got nearer to The Priest's room, the smell of blood and magic nearly overwhelmed him. Bile was rising in his throat, but he kept it down. He didn't want there to be any evidence of him being there. He had a plan, no matter what was behind that door.

  It was what he most feared. The Priest, with the blackest of magics mixed with red and green magic spilling from the top of his neck, was holding his head. His eyes sat on his desk, staring forward. When Dean moved closer, he saw that The Priest was missing his ring finger, the finger that held a gold and onyx ring.

  As with most magic users, decapitation hadn't spelled instant death for The Priest. His life was still spilling from his neck, with the magic that left him. Dean couldn't even begin to classify the forms of black magic spilling from his neck. If it could be seen, it would come in the form of oily, black goo.

  The red and green magic surprised him, though. Red for fire. Green for healing. They seemed strange forms to mix with black, the healing especially.

  There was always the possibility that The Priest had been born with red and green magic, but had learned the black magics that poured from him.

  One of the women that he kept beneath his desk was on the floor, not decapitated but stabbed in her stomach 13 times. Gruesome.

  Though The Priest was dead, Dean could tell that the spell or hold that he had on the farm was not gone. No, something else was holding the cult under control.

  Sighing, Dean picked up a pen that had belonged to The Priest and emptied it of its ink. Making the pen drink from the magic blood on The Priest's desk, Dean got to work. He drew wards on the front door and on the wall next to the windows, wards that would forbid others from entering the building for a time. Hopefully it would give them enough time to escape.

  Chapter 10

  Cady

  Cady left the dorms smiling, her long, lithe thighs carrying her with pride. She never felt so good before, so happy with her life. It all felt like it was finally coming together, and all that she needed to do was convince her friends to save themselves.

  She couldn't believe her dad was alive. Why had her mother lied to her about that? Was she trying to protect Cady, or just trying to keep her from leaving The Lore Keepers? Dean had said that her father was a good man, and she had to trust that Dean was right.

  Dean. Her knight in shining armor, her first love. Maybe her one true love? She hoped so. He thought that her dad might not want them together, but how could a good man keep his daughter from the man that she loved?

  She smiled as she thought of him. His generous mouth and aquiline nose. The disciplined muscles of his chest and arms. Handsome, tall, strong and good. She loved him, she knew she did.

  He gave her a chance. He gave them all a chance, to taste freedom, to escape a terrible fate.

  All she had to do was convince her friends to leave with her. But would any of her friends even listen? It was unlikely that anyone but Janine would let her discuss such a thing, and Janine had betrayed her before.

  With a sigh, she realized she was back to only being able to save one person. Maybe being with child would help Janine to see that this place, this farm was unhealthy for her.

  Cady knew she couldn't risk exposing their plan to someone who wasn't sympathetic, wasn't also trying to leave, but she had to try. Maybe if she just spoke to Janine, she could understand her thoughts on leaving. Just a conversation. That's all she needed.

  If the men were missing two women, maybe that would be enough to mess up their plans. Many of the women were too old to fall pregnant, after all. Maybe both Cady and Janine were needed to summon The Black Pharaoh.

  She had to hope. Hope was all she had when it came to that. Hope and trust that Dean would finish this, would save them all.

  He had to.

  Janine was on her bed, sewing a patch onto the right knee of a pair of jeans. She was humming a song. Her alabaster skin was once again marred with bruises, though they seemed faded, at least a few days old.

  “Janine? Do you want to go for a walk with me?” She asked, smiling as innocently as she could manage.

  Janine looked up at her and studied her face, then smiled in return. “Sure. I could stretch my legs.”

  When she stood, she saw that Janine was looking sickly and thin. It was heartbreaking, but the woman still kept a happy face. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Janine was clearly so ecstatic to be pregnant.

  The idea of pregnancy scared Cady a little bit. She couldn't even find it within herself to be jealous that Janine had been given a baby by The Priest, because that was something that tied her to him forever.

  “Cady,” Janine said tentatively as they stepped outside. “I think my baby is scared.” Her brave face washed away, tears threatening to pour down her face. Hugging her friend, Janine sniffled into her shirt.

  “What do you mean?” Cady asked, stroking Janine's hair. She had been right. Janine was ready to leave.

  “I can't explain it. It's just a vague feeling, like butterflies in my stomach. Dread. I don't know, but my baby isn't happy. He or she is so scared, and that makes me scared. How can I make my baby feel safe?”

  She paused and wiped away her tears. “And, I think something bad has happened. I don't know what, and I don't know how I know, but something is wrong. Something is so wrong.”

  “Janine, last time I asked you this you betrayed me, but I'm going to trust you. I'm trusting you because I want you and your baby to be safe. Do you want to leave with me? We have a chance.”

  Janine reeled back, and for a moment Cady worried that she had made the wrong choice or misread the situation. When her friend broke down crying, she knew that she would come along. “I do want to come. I'm sorry, for what I did. For letting them hurt you. That was wrong of me. I should have protected you, like you're trying to protect me, now. You're such a good friend.” Janine pulled her into a hug. “You're a better friend than I've ever been.”

  Cady returned the gesture and shook her head. “You can make it up to me by keeping this a secret. Don't tell anyone. Meet me in the field tonight at midnight, and we'll run away.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “Somewhere safe. Somewhere that your baby can't be hurt by anyone. I promise, I'll take care of you both.”

  Janine nods. She still looked unsure, scared. Cady had to think of a way to settle her thoughts.

  “Once we're in the clear, we should go to a spa. Like we did on that field trip, when we were kids.”

  Janine barked a laugh and wiped more tears from her face. “Remember the way they looked at us? 15 kids piling into that tiny parlor in the city. They must have thought we were crazy, or a big birthday party or something.”

  “Hah. Yeah, they probably did. So what do you say?”

  “I think I could use some pampering,” Janine answered, rubbing a bruise on her arm. “I could use a day off. And if I need to come back, well, at least I'll have had some time to myself.”

  Cady hoped it wouldn't come to that. She didn't want Janine stuck her, sacrificed to some dark demon. Still, she nodded. “Right. There's no reason you shouldn't be allowed back if you come with us.”

  “Midnight?” Janine asked.

  “Yep!”

  Janine squeezed her hand.

  Dean

  Cady had been buzzing with excitement since he came back to their room. She told him that Janine had agreed to join them, because she was worried about her baby.
Well, at least that was one good thing about the day.

  Dean checked on his wards every few hours. They were weakening faster than he would have liked, but they still held. It didn't matter how weak they were, as long as they didn't break until they were long gone and away from this damn cult.

  The image of decapitated heads had bothered him all day. There had been no clues in the office as to who would have or could have killed with such precision. The cuts had come fast and from a very sharp blade, but aside from that Dean couldn't glean any information.

  He had to focus on the escape, though, not on decapitations and murders of cultists that would have killed him at a moments notice if they knew what he was doing. No time to mourn the wicked.

  Her thin fingers moved quickly, sewing one of her white shirts into a makeshift bag. He was surprised at her skill with the needle, but she told him that there had never been much to do for the women, so they all took up sewing, knitting and cross stitching.

  “What are we going to pack?” She asked, finishing up the stitches that held what was once the left sleeve in position as a strap.

  “I got some bread from the cafeteria. It's not much but it's all we'll need before we get to my truck and find a motel in the city.”

  She nodded. “What's the plan once we get to the motel?”

  Dean shrugged. “I figure I'll call your pop and see where he wants to meet us. We'll get Janine to the police, then get the police out to this farm. They'll stop the ritual for us.”

  “Are you sure?” She tried and failed to hide the droop in her eyebrows that spelled worry.

  “No. But I'll go with them, to make sure they do the right thing and help the other women.” He knelt on the floor, below her and looking into her eyes. Taking her hands, he kissed each of her fingers. “I promise. I won't let them call The Black Pharaoh.”

  Her shoulders tensed, and then relaxed with a smile. “Alright. I trust you.”