by Ciara Graves
Mercy Temple Chronicles
Books 1-3
Ciara Graves
Contents
Acts of Mercy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Rules of Mercy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Sins of Mercy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 1
Afterword
Acts of Mercy
Mercy Temple Chronicles Book One
Mages. Sirens. Demons. Dragons. Gryphons. A Federal Paranormal Unit. Attackers of magic. The Mercy Temple Chronicles will hook you!
Mercy Temple lives in a world where paranormals are a thing. Humans know of their existence, but the two species don’t interact. Or so it is thought. She’s a bounty hunter and works for another bounty hunter. One that she has a love/hate relationship with. He knows her secret and that’s how he keeps her working for him. But still, he pays her well.
Rafael is a demon. He isn’t a good guy, but not a bad guy either. He wants to know Mercy’s secret, but he has one of his own. He works for the Federal Paranormal Unit. Undercover. And he is hunting the same person she is.
Warning: Unputdownable action-packed fantasy, with mages, sirens, demons, dragons, gryphons and a Federal Paranormal Unit
Chapter 1
Mercy
Every breath I took made my stomach churn and wished I hadn’t eaten anything today. Why did the Underground always have to stink? And it wasn’t a normal stink, like rotten food or bad eggs. No, this was leftover meat scraps from the goblins who made this place their home. It was also the sharp metallic tang of blood left over from the vampire feedings.
I hated the Underground. Hated wading into what was essentially enemy territory for someone like me. Goblins and vampires ran the Underground jointly, for the most part, but all kinds made this place their home.
No sunlight. Hence, custom-made sense for vampires and ghouls. And a few others who shunned the daylight and preferred the darkness.
But back to the stink, god it was awful. Gagging sounded like a great idea, but I knew that eyes watched my every move. One sign of weakness down here and it might be the last damned thing I did.
Gag?
There was no way I was going out like that.
Most of the denizens moved out of my way when they saw me coming. Good. Being feared in our world was better than being accepted. Everyone left me alone, and that was exactly what I wanted. To be left alone. Safer to be alone—especially right now when I was about to walk into a bar owned by a goblin who hated me and had said countless times how much he wished he could just kill me and eat me, be done with it. Said I’d fetch a pretty price dead. That I had no doubt of.
Bounty hunters were big targets, but I’d managed to keep myself alive so far. And thankfully, the bastard goblin owner ran multiple establishments throughout this sector and others, and he was rarely actually here. I dealt mostly with the werewolf bartender and the bouncer, whom I spotted as I approached. I stepped up to the entrance to the Wailing Siren.
Wouldn’t you know it, I was intercepted by a tall figure with crossed arms. Pointy ears, fangs, red eyes, and pale skin were a dead giveaway—vampire. His white hair was slicked back as always, shoulder length, and his black shirt was tight across a lean, muscled chest.
If he wasn’t constantly popping up on my radar, I might’ve considered hitting on him. Still debated it some days. But I made it a rule, not to date targets. Not like a vampire like him would find me attractive. His muscles bulged, and I took a half-second to admire the muscle, then noticed his arched brow. “Turn around.”
“What? Come on, Bowen,” I sighed. “Can we not do this today?”
“Who are you after?”
“Nnnn-yeah.” I flashed him what I hope was a somewhat friendly smile. “Not going to give you a name.”
He shrugged. “Then I can’t help you. If you tell me, I can send him—or her—out.”
I gave him a side-eye. “Right. Or you’ll warn them to run out the back, and I’m not in the mood to chase anyone. Hurt my foot the other day. I’m tired. Plus, I missed my coffee because of this asshole. So can we skip ahead to the part where I threaten you, and you give in and let me pass?”
Baring his fangs at me, he hissed, until I pulled out the paper. The one with his name on it.
His eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
“I’ve had this for a few weeks, but I’m being nice and saying that I haven’t seen you,” I said, matter-of-factly. Because everyone knew that no one in the Underground ever gave up anyone else. It was the code down here. One I hoped I would never have to rely on. “I like you, Bowen, and compared to this piece of shit, your crimes are tame. Lame, even. Let me in there, or I’ll take you down instead.”
He was silent, studying my face.
“Let me pass, and I’ll burn this little paper up.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out a lighter. “Don’t you like our relationship?”
“What else are you going to threaten me with?” His red eyes flickered for a split second with a look I could only describe as desire, then it was gone, and I was left wondering if I’d seen it at all.
Clenching my jaw, I mentally yelled at myself to get a grip and not give into the notion that Bowen would ever see me as anything but a bounty hunter—a threat. “I’m not, but this gob I’m chasing? He killed kids, Bowen, human and supernatural. Killed them and ate them.” I repressed a shudder. “So will you please let me pass so I can grab the son of a bitch? Please?”
Bowen’s crimes were normal for vampires. Stealing blood, biting the unknowing victim now and again. The bounty on him was put out by the Federal Paranormal Unit, and no way in hell was I going to help them. Well, unless it was worth my while. Bowen typically gave me intel if he was in a mood. Taking him out of the picture would only make situations like this worse. He glared at me once more, then nodded, indicating the area behind him.
“Go on. But…” He paused for emphasis. “…but if anyone sees that you’re armed, it won’t be pretty,” he warned quietly.
“Who said I was armed?” I asked innocently, flicking the lighter beneath his arrest order.
“I can smell the silver on you. Get going before you cause me any more trouble.”
Smirking, the scorched page in hand, I tucked the lighter away. “Always a pleasure.”
He huffed, clearly not agreeing with me, and stepped aside.
The b
ar inside appeared as any human dive bar I’d had the joy of walking into. The lighting was dingy, not dark, but dirty. Goblins filled the place. There were a few vampires. And a werewolf pack took up the far corner. The second I stepped foot in the place, the noise level dropped for a second then turned to angry whispers.
A quick inventory of the place, and there he was, my mark, hunched over at the bar. His dark grey skin and sharply pointed ears were just like so many other goblins. His right ear was missing the tip, and the other was pierced from one end to the other—with teeth. Yeah. This guy was going to be fun to take in. Goblins might be smaller in stature, but they were vicious assholes. They could chew your arm off if you weren’t careful.
My pistol was holstered at my right side. My sword was collapsed on my left hip. The handcuffs were tucked at the small of my back—silver-plated and charmed—so whoever wore them couldn’t break free. Each step brought me closer to my target.
His head lifted slightly as he sniffed the air. He spun around on the barstool, chuckling as he turned to face me. His beady black eyes narrowed on my face as he leaned back against the bar top, gob tribal tattoos covering his head where hair would have been.
“What you want, girl?” he asked in a deep drawl.
Girl.
Like he had room to talk. He barely looked older than me. I was tempted to rough him up a bit just for that.
“Taking you in. How we go is up to you.”
He shrugged. “You think you’re going to get me in those cuffs of yours? You might be good, but you can’t snag the likes of me, Mercy.”
Returning his smile, I pushed my long, black leather jacket aside, showing him I was indeed still armed. “A killer? I eat your kind for breakfast, Rufus. Now get your ass off the stool and come with me so this doesn’t get ugly.”
He scratched his nose, not seeming to have a care in the world. “I like ugly things. In fact, it’s why I like you so much, even if you are a sad excuse for a supe.”
Supe.
Supernatural.
Now he was trying to be insulting.
Trying.
I was far from a sad excuse for a supe. At least, as far as I was concerned.
On the outside, my face remained blank, but inside, I imagined all the different ways I could beat the shit out of him on our way back to the office where I’d turn him over.
Rufus stood suddenly.
I braced myself, but he merely ran his finger down his right cheek from the corner of his eye to his chin, eyeing me with a new look I did not like.
“In gob terms, ugly is the same as beautiful.”
I barked a laugh.
His eyes darkened as his hand fell.
“Are you seriously trying to flirt with me?”
“As I said, I like ugly things, Mercy, and we all know who you are. The bounty hunter who is always alone. The hunter who believes herself indomitable. One of these days you’re going to wish you sided with us. With me. You know, give yourself some allies.”
“I’m good, thanks,” I replied. “Not about to date or be friends with a gob who eats kids and picks his teeth with their finger bones.”
His lip twitched. “What can I say? I have a sweet tooth.”
Stomach roiling, I was more than ready to get this asshole in cuffs and out of this damned place. “Tell you what, come with me, and maybe we’ll go on a date on the way in, huh? How does that sound?”
Rufus appeared to be seriously considering the offer, and I wondered briefly how truly desperate I was to have someone else in my life that I was even suggesting a date with a goblin. Not that it would ever happen, but when was the last time someone I just met didn’t stare at me like I was a monster, too? Like I was attractive.
I might be a bounty hunter, but damn, was it too much to ask that I got to have some fun now and again? Go out for a night that didn’t end with me beaten up and bloody, dragging some cuffed bastard off?
Rufus’s eyes darted to the right.
I ducked at the last second.
An arm swiped over the top my head.
I spun around, in the middle of ducking, kicking out the goblin’s legs. He hit the floor with a thud. I kicked him in the face, knocking him out.
Damn. More goblins were on their feet now, surrounding me. At least, the vampires and werewolves stayed out of it. For once.
I rubbed my forehead as I sighed. “Guess this means no date.”
“Sorry, love, not this time,” Rufus replied. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Oh no. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”
He lifted his hands. “Look around you! You’re good, Mercy, but are you that good?”
On every rundown, I did my best not to rack up collateral damage. Really, I did. Truly. But sometimes shit happened.
The goblins around me snarled, clicking their pointed teeth and extending their claws.
My foot was still sore from running about five miles at a dead sprint the other day. In the wrong boots no less. And the bruises from my last fight with a nasty witch who had talons instead of fingers had barely healed. A brawl was the last thing I wanted to get into the middle of. Then again what was one more fight?
I cracked my knuckles, then shrugged out of my coat.
“Bowen!” I tossed the coat to him when he turned. “Hold that for me, would you?”
He caught the coat, brow furrowed, but he held it, studying the goblins with a look that said he was sorry for the ass-whooping I was about to get.
Oh, Bowen. He should know me better than that.
After rolling my neck and shaking out my hands, I offered up a wide grin. “Look, I won’t even use my weapons,” I assured them. “Give you all a fighting chance.”
There were seven goblins, including Rufus and the one starting to stir at my feet.
As the goblins shared a slightly confused look, I kicked their downed friend again. And again. Just to be sure he wouldn’t get back up any time soon.
“You’re going to leave this bar with a matching scar on your left side,” Rufus warned as he stalked closer.
“Isn’t that a good thing. Make me even prettier.” I winked.
He opened his mouth to reply, and that was when I moved. Not toward him. I jumped up and kicked out the goblin to my immediate left.
My feet barely hit the ground again when I decked the one to his right, then swung my elbow around into the one charging at me with an open mouth. His teeth clamped around my elbow.
I yelled at the pain.
Blood oozed around his mouth and down my arm.
I swung him around, but his teeth dug in harder as more goblins rushed me.
This was definitely not how I expected the fight to go, but I hadn’t survived this long because I couldn’t get out of tough situations. At the last second, I flattened myself to the floor, and the goblins running toward me slammed into the ones behind me, taking them all out in a heap.
I drew a small knife from my hip and rammed it up under the ribs of the bastard gnawing on my arm. He let go with a shriek, and I kicked him away.
“If you give me rabies, I’m coming back for your head!” I cringed at the sight of my torn shirt and bloodied elbow. “And I just got this shirt!” I kicked him in the face again for good measure then flipped my knife around, so the blade was flat against my forearm. “Alright, Rufus, you coming with me or what?”
His wide eyes took in the goblins on the floor in various stages of disentangling themselves from one another. I waited for him to hold his hands out like a good goblin.
Instead, he leered and threw himself at me.
Why did they always have to make this so hard on themselves? I lifted the knife and bashed him right in the nose with the butt of it, but that did little to deter him. He wrapped his hands around my neck, digging those dirty nails into my skin.
Yep, a visit to the clinic was going to be in order after this venture.
Rufus squeezed, and I grunted, punching him in
the ribcage.
He bared his teeth. “You come into my house and expect to take me? Is that it?” he snarled.
“You don’t own this place,” I spat, sucking in as much air as I could while his fingers threatened to crush my windpipe.
“You’re in the Underground! All of this is my house!”
I raised the knife, ready to drive it into his neck as my vision blurred, but he caught my wrist and twisted. It clattered to the floor, so I head-butted him instead. Now, his other hand released me. I tore my wrist free as he pressed his fingers to his bleeding forehead.
My turn.
I grabbed his wrist, twisted his arm behind his back. As the other goblins finally got to their feet, I wrenched Rufus’s arm, and the cracking of bone filled the bar as he screeched.
“Anyone else care to end up with a sling?”
The gobs looked at their companion, now firmly in my grasp, and backed up a few steps.
“Good. Come on, Rufus, time for our date.” I pulled the cuffs from my back and slapped them around his wrists.
He cursed in pain from his broken arm.
I shoved him forward toward the door, pausing long enough for Bowen to hand over my coat, an amused look on his face.
