Stone Cold Revenge (Set In Stone, Book Two)

by Jess Macallan

  STONE COLD

  Revenge

  set in stone

  book two

  Jess Macallan

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Jess Macallan. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Edited by Caroline Phipps and Stacy Abrams

  Cover design by Brittany Marczak

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-871-7

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition January 2013

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Taser, Cheshire Cat, Gandalf, Bruce Lee, Epsom salts, ibuprofen, Yoda, Stepford wife, Band-Aid, Fudgsicle, Folgers, Mack Trucks.

  For my best friend, Sara.

  Chapter One

  Two weeks ago, the worst day of my life began with a double mocha.

  Two weeks ago, I knew nothing.

  I thought I was a normal woman, running a perfume shop in Seattle, mixing bath oils and body lotions while I lusted after my hot employee. And today? Let’s just say, I wish I could live that double mocha day over again, instead of doing what I have to do right now: move into a palace. A palace filled with shadow elves and hunters and other creatures that I had no idea existed when I spilled that double mocha…

  …

  The palace—more of a mansion, really—was in a private gated community overlooking the Puget Sound. The eleven-thousand-square-foot home sat on eight secluded acres. Nestled among trees and other multi-million-dollar homes, it reeked of wealth and excess.

  I hated it. Always had. What child wants to live in a beautiful, cold museum? No running, no yelling, no fun. And those were only a few of the rules I’d grown up adhering to. My father, Jedren, was coercing me to move back in with him, using tactics that I’d only seen in Godfather movies. Thankfully, he’d agreed to let me live in the guesthouse. I refused to share that house of horrors with him. Being on the same property would be bad enough.

  We were buzzed through the gate and pulled up in front of the main house a few moments later. The late October day was a little warmer than usual at sixty-three degrees, but still typically overcast. The gray skies were the perfect gloomy backdrop for the neoclassical-style monstrosity. The huge pillars gracing the entrance had always made me wonder if my father had built a monument to himself. He certainly had the arrogance of Zeus. I took a deep breath. Ready or not…

  My best friend, Teryl, helped me unload the trunk. He’s an oracle who specializes in finding things or people. He’d suggested that he give me a ride and moral support today and I’d jumped on his proposition, because I never knew when his abilities would come in handy. We’d just shut the trunk when the front doors to the mansion opened. “Elleodora, you’re late.”

  I stiffened but took a breath before turning around to face my father. We hadn’t spoken since he’d kidnapped me in Scotland. I still had nightmares about that creepy estate—worse than this one—and the torture I’d endured there at the hands of his bodyguard. All of it had led up to this moment. My father had the misguided idea that I’d actually want to be his heir and take over the empire he’d created under his business, Warlow Imports. Threatening my loved ones and beating me senseless had made it necessary for me to show up here today, compliant. But I had my own agenda. What I wanted to mutter was, “I didn’t realize you were so eager to die. I would have come sooner.” Instead, I didn’t breathe a word.

  Jedren didn’t seem to expect a response. His long-suffering sigh was a perfect combination of drama and condescension. “I should have known you would be late. But you’re a princess, and you need to start acting like it. Being punctual is a requirement. We made an agreement—don’t test me so soon. I believe I outlined the consequences quite clearly.”

  I heard Teryl suck in a sharp breath, and I turned around. Well, crap. This was going to get out of hand fast, and we hadn’t even made it through the front door.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly, so only Teryl could hear. My father had proven time and again he wouldn’t hesitate to kill to get his way. Teryl’s fiancée Clio worked for Jedren and had recently become his latest pawn. Clio was also an oracle, but her power as a seer made her far more attractive to a shark like my father. I didn’t know how much she could predict, but I knew Jedren would take what he could get. I considered her his hostage, so I had to be more careful.

  Maxim Bannon, Teryl’s older brother, walked down the front steps toward us. To say they shared bad blood was an understatement. Maxim worked for my father. Maybe worshipped my father would be a more appropriate description. He was Jedren’s personal oracle assistant.

  “Hello, Elleodora.” Maxim’s tone dripped with contempt as he stood next to one of the giant pillars. I wondered if he was consciously or unconsciously mimicking my father’s posture. He’d learned the disdain from Jedren, but the posing was too much. Maxim couldn’t carry it off quite as well.

  I turned my back on him, knowing it would get under his skin, and asked Teryl, “Where did I put the list of stipulations?”

  Teryl reached for the folder in the back seat. “Right here.” He handed it to me with a flourish.

  I rummaged around in my purse for a pen, slapped the folder on the side of the car, and added, I will only answer to Elle. I hated my full name. It had been used as an insult during my formative years. Plus, Elle fit my personality better. I recapped the pen and whispered, “Maxim must be acting as my father’s gopher today.” I watched Maxim out of the corner of my eye as he moved down the steps after an impatient gesture from my father. He stopped next to the trunk, eyeing my luggage as if he expected it to jump up and bite him.

  “More like his little bitch,” Teryl muttered under his breath. Maxim was eight years Teryl’s senior. They’d never been close, but since Maxim had suggested Clio’s transfer to the London office, things had been even worse. I didn’t blame Teryl for being angry with him. I was, too.

  Maxim must have heard because his eyes widened, and I thought his mouth would drop open in shock. But no, he had better control than that. He smoothed his tie and sneered at me, his comment for my ears alone. “You won’t last a week.”

  My smile spread, wide and genuine, and I responded just as softly. “A week? Aren’t you generous. Or maybe I should say, jealous. You can’t be his heir, no matter how much we all wish you were.” And that was the one truth Maxim couldn’t handle. My father might have wiped many of my memories clean, but he’d left the ones I had of Maxim, which wasn’t a gift. For as long as Teryl and I have been friends, Maxim has been making our lives miserable. As an adult, I recognize his motivation for what it is—jealousy and a blind desire to climb over, plow through, or crush anyone who steps in the way of his quest for success. I used to think it was because of the money. My father had more than hundreds of people could ever spend in a lifetime.

  Now I knew better.

  Maxim wanted the power of my father’s crown. He had everything Jedren needed in an heir: ambition, a complete disregard for anyone else, and business savvy. The only thing he lacked was the right DNA. While not a sh
adow elf, Maxim wanted to rule.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t want any of it. I wouldn’t wish these genes on anyone—so far they were nothing but trouble. Jedren’s assets were dirty. Covered in blood, death, torture, and any other bad karma you could think of.

  Maxim’s face turned an interesting shade of red, then purple. Before he could spit out a response to my insult, my father lost his patience. He projected his voice perfectly from his lord-of-the manor position at the top of the stairs. “Maxim, grab her bags. Take them to the guesthouse.”

  “No thanks.” I shook my head, still watching Maxim. “I don’t trust him.”

  My father smoothed the lapel of his perfectly pressed three-piece suit, his silver hair impeccably groomed. Nothing was ever out of place with his appearance. “Don’t be absurd.” His eyes were frowning, but his face stayed smooth.

  How did he manage not to have lines when he frowned? Women everywhere would love to learn that trick. “I don’t trust him,” I repeated. “I don’t want him touching anything of mine.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Maxim mumbled quietly, shooting me a venomous look. “Nothing you’ve got is worth touching.” He wasn’t quiet enough, though, because my father arched a single, silver brow at him. Maxim flushed and stumbled over an apology. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. What a suck-up.

  Jedren couldn’t care less if Maxim insulted me. He just hated it when someone stooped to vulgar behavior in public—and because we were standing outside of the house, in front of Teryl, it could be considered public. Plus, there were never fewer than four guards out front, not including the groundskeepers, kitchen staff, and hunters my father hired. I knew from past experience they all carried weapons, and most were trained in some form of martial arts. Ah, home sweet home.

  I ignored Maxim’s sputtering and handed him the list of stipulations I’d created. “I want this signed in blood by my father before I step one foot inside the guesthouse. Teryl will act as my witness.” I was still learning how contract negotiations worked in a world inhabited by creatures I’d only recently found out existed.

  Maxim obediently ascended the stairs to deliver the contract to the man he idolized. Without a word, my father took the sheet and read through it. He looked up after a minute, face impassive. “You’re serious about these?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t tell what he thought—and I didn’t care, as long as he agreed. The list gave me a modicum of protection from losing another loved one or being attacked by any of the guards. It would be a welcome change from my childhood.

  He sighed. “I named you Elleodora. I won’t call you by a nickname. Your grandmother would be so displeased by the crude epithet.” He said it with obvious distaste.

  I’d figured he’d balk at that. I had to choose my battles wisely, and this war was just getting started. Conserving energy at this stage was critical, so I’d compromise. “Then everyone else has to.”

  “It’s hardly a businesslike stipulation,” Maxim said, undoubtedly licking my father’s boots with his imitation disdain.

  “You call me Elleodora, and your fetching and carrying days will be over, Gopher Boy.”

  “Stop.” My father’s tone barely changed, but I could feel the air turn glacial with his irritation. “As my assistant, he’ll be working with you to bring you up to speed on the business side of things. You two will be working together closely.”

  After a few seconds of shock, we both began protesting at once. My father held up his hand. “Enough. I’ll sign your ridiculous list.”

  “In blood,” I reminded him. The thought of signing in blood was repugnant, but it was necessary to me. Blood, I’d recently learned, held power, and if I was signing a contract with the king of shadow elves, I wanted to have his blood signature as a guarantee. Jedren was a master at manipulating situations and finding loopholes. I could only hope this would minimize opportunities for him to do that. At least until I could kill him—and Luke.

  Jedren’s left eye twitched at my interruption, but he went on smoothly. “In blood, but I also have stipulations. Working with Maxim is one of them.”

  So far, so good. Maxim was a jerk, but if that was the worst of it, I could compromise.

  “And Luke will train you,” he added. His pale eyes watched me carefully, gauging my reaction. Bastard. I clenched my fists. I wanted to rant at him, but we had an audience. If I lost control, who knew what he’d do? I wasn’t willing to take the risk—which I knew was what he was counting on. But training with Luke wasn’t going to happen. Ever. Just thinking about it caused my adrenaline to surge, and for a few seconds, I wavered between fight or flight.

  “No.” I turned toward Teryl and picked up the nearest suitcase. “I’m ready to leave.” I took two steps toward the car.

  “If you think you are going to show up at my home and dictate to me, you are mistaken. You’ve forgotten your place.”

  I reached for the car door handle with shaking fingers. I wouldn’t back down. Not on this point. Choose your battles, I reminded myself. And this was one worth fighting.

  “Luke will train you to handle hunters and anyone else you might encounter.”

  I looked at my father over my shoulder. “I’m going to kill Luke; I’m not going to work with him. Not for anything. I won’t compromise on that.”

  Jedren’s eyes gleamed with barely suppressed irritation.

  “Your father is disappointed in you.” Luke’s voice came from directly behind me.

  Rigid with fear, I looked to the stairs leading up toward the front door. They were only ten feet away, but if I tried to run, I’d never make it. The feet would stretch and yawn into what would seem like a mile, and Luke would catch me long before I hit the first step. I’d have far more bruises for my efforts than would be worth it.

  I’d spoken out of turn at dinner. Two of my father’s business associates and their wives had been in attendance. I couldn’t remember quite what had happened—maybe I’d asked one of the women to pass the butter, or commented on her dress. What I did know was that after we’d seen his guests out to their cars, after we’d said our polite farewells and their chauffeurs had closed the car doors for them, my father had turned to me, face full of rage.

  Luke had been waiting behind me. He always seemed to know when my father wanted me punished.

  Luke’s grip on my arm was painful, as he half dragged, half shoved me into the house, toward the room reserved for my punishment. He pushed me into the chair, using more force than necessary. I didn’t resist. It rarely helped. I pressed the pads of my fingers against the bottom of the chair, hard enough to feel discomfort. Anything to keep me from passing out from fear. Luke wanted me to respond. If I did, he’d only hurt me more.

  “I think you need a permanent reminder of your place.”

  I bit my lower lip at his words, hard enough to make my eyes water. Don’t say a word; don’t make a sound, I reminded myself. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and I couldn’t stop my shudder of disgust.

  “I’ve always wanted to try my hand at art. What do you say, Princess?” he whispered.

  This time, I couldn’t utter a word. A whimper escaped when the dagger shredded the back of my shirt, exposing my shoulder blades. By the time he finished, I’d gouged the bottom of the chair with my fingernails. My throat was raw from screaming.

  Luke’s satisfied sigh grated along my nerves. “I hate to leave it unfinished, but it will have to do for now. We’ll wait for that to scar up”

  I couldn’t ignore the sharp pain along my shoulder blades, and I dropped my head to my chest and shook with silent sobs.

  I buried the memory with some effort. “I won’t train with Luke, now or ever.” I knew Jedren didn’t take my death threat seriously, and that could work to my advantage. I had told him at our last “meeting” in Scotland that I’d kill them both—and he’d find out soon enough how serious I was. But in the meantime, I wouldn’t give Luke the chance to mark me again.

>   Jedren considered me for a moment. “Shall we add that to your stipulations?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not, so I didn’t answer. I kept my hand on the door handle.

  He sighed. “Very well. I will find someone else to train you. But you must be trained; I won’t negotiate on that. If you’re going to be my heir, you must be capable of running Warlow Imports. It’s a global corporation and you’re ill prepared to handle any of the divisions, let alone the entire company.” He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for me to respond.

  I stared up at my father. Suspicion made me hesitate. “Why? What’s so important about the training?” I had no idea if he meant knives, martial arts, or worse. In my youth, he’d had Luke torture me repeatedly because I wasn’t capable or worthy as his heir. What was going on? Who would train someone to fight after that someone had vowed to kill him?

  “Elleodora.” Jedren emphasized my name. The bastard did it on purpose, knowing I hated it. “You are my heir. I’m a powerful man. I have enemies.”

  Sheer willpower kept me from looking at Teryl. Enemies? Jedren was one of the most hated men I knew. To say he had enemies was like saying Hitler had suffered from mildly troubled thoughts.

  “Because of that, you’ll need to be adequately prepared for whatever situation might arise,” he continued. “You must defend yourself against physical as well as political and financial threats.”

  Okay, I didn’t like the sound of that. “So as your heir, I take on your enemies?”

  “We can’t be too careful. The estate is adequately protected, but I won’t have you unprepared. Now, shall we go sign this so you can move your things into the guesthouse? I’ve had the kitchen cook a dinner.” He turned and walked into the house through the elegant but bulletproof French doors, not bothering to wait for my reply. The guards flanking the entrance lowered their heads in deference as he passed.

  I looked at Teryl and shrugged. If Jedren was going to sign, I would, too. I touched the pendant at my neck for luck. I hadn’t taken it off since I got back from Scotland, and it bolstered my courage now. We followed my father up the steps, with Maxim grumbling behind us. Yeah, this was shaping up to be a really difficult day.