Ruby: Uncut and on the Loose (The Veil Book 1)

by Danica Avet

  RUBY: UNCUT AND ON THE LOOSE

  The Veil 1

  Danica Avet

  RUBY: UNCUT AND ON THE LOOSE

  The Veil 1

  DANICA AVET

  Copyright © 2017

  Cover art by Sweet ʼn Spicy Designs

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  THE END

  About the Author

  Other Books by Danica Avet

  Chapter One

  “Bliss02 doesn’t know what she’s in for!” Ruby Fontenot moved her mouse in an intricate pattern, effectively annihilating her archenemy’s animated orc. “Take that, you filthy orc!”

  She let out a satisfied laugh and sat back in her chair. Her online enemy had been dogging her for weeks. That’ll teach her. Ruby stretched her arms over her head with a happy sigh. She just loved pitting her strategies against others.

  Briggs groaned and rolled over, ignoring her good humor. “You’re no fun,” she scolded the bulldog as she signed off her character and began shutting down the computer.

  Living alone in the middle of nowhere might keep some people from happiness, but Ruby preferred the isolation. Life was much better without countless encounters with people who were either cruel or completely misunderstanding. People tended to stare at her or ask stupid questions like, “So what’s the weather like up there?” They didn’t know what to make of a six foot plus female built like a brick house. Not to mention, she much preferred not worrying about seeing anyone male or female but the mailman and the delivery company.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she told Briggs, who was playing dead.

  The squat bulldog hopped to his feet and beat tracks to the bedroom, his claws clicking on the hardwood floor. The house had been her grandmother’s childhood home and, as was common in homes down the bayou, most of the house was built of cypress. She passed a loving hand over the soft, worn fabric of the floral sofa. The floorboard creaked under her weight as she walked across the room, the sound a comfort on a lonely night.

  The house was solid and comfy and all hers. If her father hadn’t been smart enough to teach Ruby how to trap in their beloved swamp and be wise with her money, she’d have lost the only home she’d ever known. Gently straightening his old Winchester on the wall, she mused that his stern belief in life insurance also meant she had a comfortable, though not extravagant, life. She rarely bought anything new, grew and caught her own food, and ordered necessities through that marvelous invention, the Internet.

  Sighing with contentment, Ruby stretched again, eager to get some sleep. Something caught her attention just as she turned off the living room light. She frowned as she walked to the picture window facing the bayou. Using the curtain as a shield, she peeked out at her yard.

  The moonlit swamp she called home appeared empty and comfortably normal. She only saw the tiny clearing her house stood in, her old Mustang sitting in the driveway, and the bayou hugging the front of her property. Cypress and oak trees loomed over the water and her little house, their embrace almost appearing creepy in the gloom.

  Ruby’s eyes adjusted perfectly to the darkness as they scanned the front yard. Seeing nothing strange, she moved to the window on the side of the house facing the woods. The trees were thicker as they huddled around her small shed on the back of her property. The horseshoe shape of the bayou surrounded her house on three sides, leaving this one side facing land.

  Once again, she used the curtains as a shield, peeking through the wispy lace to see the side yard. The pitch-dark lane leading from her house to the highway three miles away also appeared normal.

  She frowned, her eyes flicking back and forth, searching for the disturbance. Nothing moved. Then she realized what had caught her attention. The animals and insects that kept up a constant pulse of life in the swamps were silent.

  Since the only thing that could trigger such a change in the environment was either a human or a large predator, Ruby crept across the living room to grab her crossbow and bolt from the gun cabinet. The weapon had been a gift from her dad on her twelfth birthday and, having used it for so long, loading it in the dark proved no problem.

  Her heart pounded as adrenaline flooded her system. Ruby crept through the living room, hoping she didn’t have a predator of the two-legged variety. She didn’t want to shoot someone.

  She opened her front door, pleased it didn’t make a sound, and stepped onto the front porch. Keeping her back against the wall of the house, she padded to the side facing the woods. The trellis attached to the porch hung heavy with jasmine her mother had planted. The scent teased her nostrils as she concealed herself behind the blossoms.

  The silence was dense. Expectant. The hairs rose on the back of her neck. Of all the times to forget her night vision goggles. Cursing under her breath, she forced her body to relax. Her eyes would adjust.

  Ruby placed her finger on the trigger of her crossbow and patiently waited to see what it would do.

  * * * *

  Lucian Ravenswaay stood stock-still as he caught a trace of spicy flowers in the night air. The unique fragrance seemed out of place in the swamp with its moss, decaying vegetation, and stagnant waters. The scent came from the southern side of the woods, drawing him like a moth to the flame.

  Slipping through the trees, he came to the edge of the woods and spotted a small house ahead. In the near perfect darkness, he could see that the house seemed to be in good shape and his nose told him it was inhabited. Catching whiffs of the perfume coming from the house, Lucian yanked on the reins of his instinct, which clamored to investigate.

  Shaking his head to empty it of anything not related to the assignment, he surveyed the area for his prey. His eyes gave him no clues about what kind of person lived in the house other than an extremely neat one with an affinity for older cars. The Mustang parked in front of the house gleamed in the dark. The yard was neat with a pristine lawn and no knickknacks cluttering the ground. The house was well-kept with a jasmine crowded trellis blocking the view of the front door.

  Lucian dismissed the smell as belonging to the flowers, opening his other senses to search for the fugitive. The only presence he detected was a wavelength from the person who lived in the house. The pulse of energy was strong. Stronger than most humans he’d come across. Curiosity almost had him approaching the house to find out who would choose to live in complete isolation, but his duties kept him hidden in the dark.

  His team had been out for five days with no break as they hunted down Julius Blue, the last Lineage Chieftain.

 
To hell with that. He needed a break.

  “If we don’t find Julius before dawn, we’re out of here.” He sent the thought to Pagan using his race’s telepathic ability. She owned a private investigation agency, but was helping him tonight as a favor.

  “What’s up, Big Daddy Fang? Not enjoying your nature walk?” she shot back. “Friggin’ alligators are the size of elephants out here!”

  “So you don’t want to get back to the city and do a little relaxing?” he asked her as he stared at the house. He really wanted to see who lived there, but fought the compulsion.

  “Do I come across as stupid? Of course I want to get the hell out of here,” Pagan grumped, cursing him when he laughed.

  “See you at The Pit then. Try not to break a nail.”

  With a final glance at the house, Lucian turned away, heading northeast deeper into the swamp. The spicy flower scent followed him, trapped in his sinuses and teasing him with the unknown.

  * * * *

  Ruby’s body relaxed as the threat moved on. She’d heard a very soft sound and then the feeling of menace around her property instantly diminished. The crickets began to sing and frogs croaked as the danger moved away from her house.

  She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Ruby still wasn’t sure what the hell had been out there, but she’d instinctively felt the danger and prepared herself to take action. Now, as the adrenaline drained from her system, she was more exhausted than before.

  Ruby surveyed the yard one more time before heading back inside. She locked the house up tight, but took her crossbow to her bedroom. Briggs was in the middle of her bed, snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

  “Some guard you are,” she told him in tired disgust.

  Obviously unimpressed by her ire, Briggs farted, turning over. Ruby snorted and got ready for bed, putting her crossbow on the nightstand before slipping between the sheets.

  There was no way she was getting a restful night’s sleep.

  * * * *

  The morning dawned bright and clear, the glorious sunshine accompanied by the songs of birds and a wispy breeze indicating a beautiful day lay ahead. Ruby went about her regular morning chores, trying not to think about the possible intruder from the night before. Once she realized she’d peeled the same potato twice, she quickly threw everything in the fridge and headed into the woods, her crossbow at the ready.

  The tracks she’d expected to find were nonexistent. Whatever she’d sensed had either cleared its tracks or she’d imagined the whole thing. Knowing she had nearly no imagination, Ruby was certain her intruder had been a person who’d intentionally cleared away any trace of his presence. Her father had taught her how to trust her gut reaction, using it to help her track. Her gut told her someone had been here.

  She bit her lip and studied the woods, looking for some clue as to who it had been and what their intentions were. Nothing stood out to her and, considering her tracking skills, the person who’d been watching her house had to be an expert at stealth. Her father had trained her, and he’d been the best tracker in the swamps for nearly thirty years.

  Deciding not to waste her time looking for clues that weren’t there, she went back inside, keeping her crossbow at the ready. After cleaning her house and lugging the weapon with her everywhere, she decided to calm down the paranoia, finally putting away her trusty crossbow. For a couple of hours, she still jumped at any sound that seemed out of place, but when nothing happened, she decided maybe she’d imagined the whole episode after all. No one could clear their tracks so well that they left absolutely no clues of their presence. Shrugging it off as too much RPG and not enough sleep, she went outside.

  Walking along the small path next to the house, she inspected the exterior. She loved her home. Some spots on the exterior walls were chipping. She’d have to strip and paint the house again soon.

  Levy Fontenot had taught her everything she needed to know about living in the unforgiving swamp, and she’d learned well at his knee. He’d also been the center of Ruby’s life. She stepped back to check the roof. Looked good. She resumed her walk to the shed. After the scare last night, she wanted to set up some traps around her house. There was no telling if the cougar—it had to have been a cougar—would return, and she didn’t want it getting close enough to come after her or Briggs.

  The scent of jasmine on the hot air teased her nose, reminding her of Levy’s insistence that she learn to care for the flowers her mother had loved. Levy hadn’t talked about Ruby’s mother very often, but when he did, it was with deep love and sorrow. He’d adored Zoe and had wanted nothing more than to spend forever with her. Ruby made the mistake of asking about her maternal family once, and Levy’s angry, almost defensive, reaction kept her from asking again. They were no part of their lives, Levy said, and the subject died there.

  Shaking her head to clear it of sentimental thoughts, Ruby opened the door of the little shed. She frowned as it stuck. She could’ve sworn she planed the bottom of the door a couple of months before. Ruby sighed sharply. There was always something to fix or replace out here. Gah, she thought sourly as she yanked on the door with all of her might.

  A little man crouched in the doorway of her shed. She leapt back with a shout. She wasn’t overly worried about him because he was so tiny and she was so…not.

  “Who the hell are you?” she shouted, forcing her body to relax in case he attacked. Anger and a tendril of fear coiled in her stomach, making it churn.

  He didn’t answer, his eyes taking her measure just as she took his. He was wearing an almost sheer robe opened over a loincloth. His eyes were completely blacked out, no iris showing, no whites. Utter darkness. Shock held her immobile.

  With a growl, he launched himself at her. Stumbling back, she fell on her ass.

  Chapter Two

  Feeling ridiculous with a hundred and two pounds of saggy skin and brittle bones pinning her to the ground, Ruby fought. She’d always been almost abnormally strong for a female and, for the second time in her life, she thanked God for her strength. Bracing her feet on the ground, she bucked her body, trying to throw him off. One hand gripped his shoulder to aid his removal.

  He shouted again in a strange language, keeping his place by grabbing her throat. Surprised at the strength in his hands and the intense heat pouring out of them, Ruby gasped for breath, thrashing beneath him, her fists battering at his head. She wasn’t going down without a frigging fight!

  A strange lethargy pulled at her as her attacker kept talking in that strange, singsong language. Her fists slowed their angry swinging, and her body stopped trying to buck the man off. Forcing herself to look into his eyes, she gasped, “Why?”

  Time seemed to stand still, and Ruby swore she could feel her heartbeat slowing until it felt as though it beat every other minute, and then like it barely beat at all. The bright afternoon sunlight began to fade, and sparks exploded behind her eyelids every time she closed them, so she struggled to keep them open.

  Her vision tunneled, and at the end she could see the vague figure of a person. For some reason, she panicked. Something, a whispering, wordless compulsion told her not to go near the figure. The person was short, possibly a woman, even though the menace didn’t seem to match the figure’s size, but that was all she could tell.

  The fear and uncertainty forced her back to herself, and she felt a moment’s relief before she remembered she was still dying. Screw this. She was going to die, and she’d make sure her accusing eyes would haunt the geezer for the rest of his miserably short life.

  The thought filled her with a strange sense of peace and in the back of her mind, Ruby wondered at her vindictive nature. As a self-imposed hermit, she hadn’t realized she would crave vengeance so much, but supposed she’d never put herself to the test before.

  “You’re not going to die, kid, so stop thinking about it,” the old man said as he wheezed and crawled off her, finally letting go of her throat. He slumped on the ground, his body seeming far more fragile
than it had moments before.

  Ruby coughed, her body racked with pain as it pulled in life-affirming air. She lay on the ground, her arms splayed out as she stared up at the sun-laced oak trees overhead. She wasn’t going to die. At least not at this moment. Maybe the old guy would decide she needed a new hairdo and take off her head. That would be the icing on the cake right about now.

  “Not everything’s about you, sweetcakes,” the geezer huffed from beside her. He hacked loudly. “If I had the strength, I would’ve kept going, and you would’ve been my last choice.” He looked her over skeptically. “Okay, so you’re not that bad. A few years ago,” he leered at her as she made a disgusted face. “Right. Anyway, so you don’t have time for the whole shebang, sweetie. It’s going to be short and sweet. Although, it isn’t all that short, if you know what I mean. Heh, heh.”

  “Yuck,” Ruby rasped, pushing herself to a seated position and scooting several feet away from what she was beginning to think was a serial pervert with violent tendencies. Maybe if she got to her feet, she could outrun him, although in her current condition she wasn’t sure she’d get far.

  From her new position, he didn’t look threatening at all. He looked like he should’ve been on the cover of an AARP magazine for pygmies. Deeply golden skin was stretched taut over a small, bony face topping a wrinkled body barely five foot four. His hair was a shock of white against dark skin, and his bushy black eyebrows nearly met over a wide nose. He barely had any teeth left except for the two at the bottom that poked out of his mouth when it was closed. Ruby mused if he had any wrinkles he would look like Briggs.

  “Bulldogs are disgusting,” the pygmy said with great dignity as he stood up and brushed off his robe and loincloth.

  Wait, she thought. Was he reading her mind? So far she hadn’t said anything because her throat hurt so much, but he’d answered every one of her mental comments. “Wh—” she croaked. “You’re reading my mind?” she finally rasped out, her throat raw. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my shed?”