Venus City 1
Page 32
“Kiss up,” Asher groused. “But if you insist on going with the tree branch thing, at least ease up on yourself a little.”
She gave him a look. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe you’re not so much a frail branch, but rather one blossoming with beautiful flowers.”
Braya snorted. “And mine was overwrought?”
Asher shrugged, playfully wrapping an arm around her. He seemed to only do it in hopes of irritating Latham. “It doesn’t matter, Bray. Whatever kind of lost branch you are, you’re always welcome on my tree.”
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Don’t miss the next book in the series, Ephraim City! Coming soon in March 2012. Below is a sample of chapter one from Ephraim City.
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Ephraim City
Braya Vacelind, as she preferred to be called now, stood crouched over the shallow grave. Its dimensions were sized appropriately for a casket to be laid inside, but its depth left a lot to be considered. There was no way it was deep enough for anything that had to do with a burial. Perhaps a person could fit inside, just barely, but that was it. The peculiarity of it drove Braya nuts.
“So you seriously have no clue what these graves are meant to do?” She asked her companion.
“Brays, I told you a hundred times over,” Asher replied, seemingly losing his patience, “I don’t know what the graves are for, nor do I know what the tree is meant to do.”
Hmm. Very peculiar. Why would Channing plant this tree and have the twins dig all these graves without sharing his reasoning with his Locers? That man was one mystery after another, and Braya hated having to admit that he was rather good at making it difficult for her to figure out his next move. Heck, he’d even managed to stay under her radar the entire time he’d been stringing her along like a puppet to do his dirty de-hazing for him all last month.
“Well this thing has gotta have a purpose,” Braya mused, stretching back up to her full height. Asher was standing just on the other side of the grave she’d just been inspecting, his pretty blue eyes glowing in an eerie compliment to the shade of the tree’s bark. His cheekbones looked especially pronounced in the lighting of the white, tangled tree growth, and his hair was its usual dark disarray.
“You know we shouldn’t be wasting all this time worrying about this tree,” Asher commented, smashing the heel of his left boot into the soft dirt, his eyes watching what he did with his foot. “Channing got away over a week ago. It’s been too long already.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she answered bitterly, moving onto the next grave. It was pointless, but she couldn’t help but feel like they were missing something. “You’ve told me that already. I don’t know what you expect us to do, though. Sniff him down with our enhanced noses like a couple of dogs?”
“Come on,” Asher said amusedly. “What kind of idiot do you take me for?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that.”
“Brays, all you have to do is get a few boosters and—”
“Asher,” she glowered, “I think we’ve had this discussion every single day since Channing’s disappearance.”
He shrugged, now hunched down next to her beside another one of the graves. He no longer smelt like flowers and soil, and she was loath to admit that she actually missed that wretched scent of his. It had been calming. Sweet. Familiar. “It’s always good to give you a reminder.”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten,” she replied tartly.
Braya gingerly ran her fingers over the dirt at the bottom of the grave. It felt ordinary. She didn’t know what she hoped to find, but she couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something was off about this place. Horribly off.
Asher made a disgruntled noise.
“You can go after him alone, if you’d like,” Braya said somewhat spitefully. She really didn’t feel like that. She didn’t want him to leave, but he’d been fighting with her over the same issue everyday, and like a candle that had been burned too long, her wax was rapidly melting away. It was wearing her down. “I have to stay here for my court date, and my wedding, you know.”
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Don’t remind me of that.”
“I assume you mean the wedding,” she said coolly, standing up once more. She was at a loss. They’d come to the graveyard three times in the past week, upturning no results in the process. Braya moved over to the thick, gnarled blue trunk and leaned against it, her eyes trained on Asher as he followed her from where he’d been loitering near the grave. Braya could only imagine he’d gotten lost in some daydream of slicing Latham’s head off and running away with her into the night. He’d told her of a similar dream a few days ago.
“Of course the wedding,” Asher replied, his cool blue eyes accessing her in a way that brought a flush to her skin. “You’re letting yourself be controlled just as you did when Charlotte was your mother and you were working for the Locers.”
Braya shrugged, not in the mood to indulge in this argument again. “Then force me not to marry him.”
He hated it when she said those things, and she knew it.
As expected, Asher took her words in a less-than-graceful manner. He pushed up against her, a guttural sound building up in his throat, his face crowding hers. Her back was pressed painfully into the tree trunk, but Braya didn’t notice it as much as she noticed the heat growing and twisting like a braid in her lower stomach. She’d been careful to avoid such a close proximity with him over the past week for this very reason. The master-slave link still connected them and Braya’s attraction for Asher hadn’t dwindled in the slightest, meaning the link would continue to enhance their experience whenever they engaged in anything that brought them within breaths-reach of each other.
It wasn’t proper for a girl who was about to marry another, even if she wanted it more than she wanted anything else.
“Braya,” he said on a sweet exhale. His breath rushed over her skin, and Braya sagged into his arms, which snaked up to wrap around her just at the right moment. “Make the choice you want most.”
“That’s the problem,” she murmured, her earthy brown eyes seeking his cold blue ones. “I don’t know what I want.”
“Don’t lie,” he said with the tiniest hint of a smile. His thumb stroked her cheekbone.
Braya shuddered, tearing her gaze from his. “Asher…what I want is more complicated than it should be.”
“You want me, don’t you? Brays,” he scolded playfully, letting his hand that had been hovering over her cheek dive into her hair just behind her neck, “there’s no need to play coy with me. I’m a nice guy. If you just ask—”
“Ugh,” she shoved against his chest, but he was far too strong to stumble back. “Not you, you stupid Mud. I’m talking about my mother. Her coma…it doesn’t seem like anyone has the abilities to help her.”
Asher tilted his head. “You said you hadn’t heard anything on that front, you know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She wanted to be irritated with him. It made it easier to talk to him. But when he had that velvety tone of concern sewn over his handsome expression Braya found herself muted, calmed.
“I just heard today.”
“So that’s why you wanted to come here, wasn’t it? You hoped to find something—”
“But it was obviously useless!” She snapped, grateful that she hadn’t completely lost her senses to him this time. Braya maneuvered out of his grip and turned her back to Asher, letting her gaze fall over the small graves in the ground. A few Finchwhites were squawking from their perches on the branches above them, but despite their noise, Braya could hear Asher stalking up behind her. She could feel him stop a few inches behind her, could feel his breath tickling her ear.
“You’re hoping to find a lead on Channing,” he guessed. “You want to find him so he can release your mother from her coma. I had a feeling you would want that.”
“Yeah, so?” She hugged herself, shutting her eyes.
“Braya,” he uttered, his hands squeezing her upper arms
affectionately. “We need to go after him. I can understand why you might not like the sound of that, but I do think he’s left Venus City. If I had to bet anything, he’s heading back to Ephraim City. You have to be willing to leave your home, though. Leave all of this behind. Your wedding, your court date…”
Braya gulped. She didn’t know if she could leave it all behind, no matter how much she hated her current situation. She didn’t want to be Latham’s wife and she didn’t want to be a Bride for the rest of her life. But could she leave the safety of Venus City? Venture out to that war-torn land beyond…
****
About the Author:
Tabitha Vale is a 20 year old girl half living in Portland, Oregon and half living in Seoul, South Korea. She’s both a college student and a writer and would love to hear from her readers.
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Table of Contents
~Chapter One: Rotten Apple~
~Chapter 2: The Brides~
~Chapter 3: Moon Tamer~
~Chapter 4: Underground Flowers~
~Chapter 5: Thy Master~
~Chapter 6: Stepping Into the Haze~
~Chapter 7: The Golden Eye~
~Chapter 8: Garden Party~
~Chapter 9: Petticoat Racing~
~Chapter 10: Jealous Face~
~Chapter 11: Missing Past~
~Chapter 12: Camille and Tristant~
~Chapter 13: Watercolors~
~Chapter 14: Shadow Guard~
~Chapter 15: The White Graveyard~
~Chapter 16: Beautiful Nothing~
~Chapter 17: Ugly Act~
~Chapter 18: Begonia~
~Chapter 19: Disturbing Likeness~
~Chapter 20: Runaway Bride~
~Chapter 21: Mother Ophelia~
~Chapter 22: Introducing War~