Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

  My smile is weak and tired, but I am happy. She’s Damien’s. Nothing else matters in this moment. Not the pain or the fact my body will be permanently scarred.

  “I love you, my sweet Alice.” More tears flood my eyes. I don’t even know if my husband will let me keep the name I’ve given her.

  I won’t let anyone hurt her. It’s a vow. Alice will have a better life than me. Whatever we have to face in the future, our daughter will always be safe.

  “Jesus, there’s so much blood.” Oscar mutters as he moved back between my open legs.

  “Can you get her patched up enough to move?” Damien asks his brother. “We can’t hang around here with the Russian fucker’s friends crawling all over the damn place.”

  “She needs blood to heal all of this.” Noticing the solution hooked up to my IV Oscar examines it.

  “It’s messing with my natural healing ability.” I croak. Answering his unspoken question. “Something my father cooked up before I killed him.”

  A muffled struggle sounds from through the door.

  Phillip and Sheila appear, dragging Ivan into the room.

  “Can we please slit this bastard’s throat now?” Sheila jerks their captive down onto his knees. “Or at least cut of his ears to start with. A small taste of the justice he’ll be delivered for hurting our sister.” She continues, after taking stock of my damaged body.

  “You lying bitch, you said it was mine.” Ivan snaps, as his glare hones in on the baby.

  Rage I thought he had long since subdued rises to boil through me. Pinning him with a look of hatred, my lips curl back in a snarl. “I would have told you anything to stop you from raping me again. I wasn’t about to let you murder her, you motherfucer.”

  I want to see him die. Be there when they end him like the rabid dog he is.

  Reaching up, I run the edge of my finger against Alice’s cheek. It downy and soft. Eyes shifting she stares right at me with her wrinkled face. She’s the most exquisite thing I have ever seen.

  My baby. My Alice. A future I can’t wait to hold in my own arms.

  Smiling I move to take her from Damien. This is a moment I will remember forever. One I will never forget.

  Pain explodes through my chest so sharply I don’t even have time to scream. Looking down, the hilt of the knife is jutting out from my flesh.

  “Damien?” The whisper barely leaves my lips. Eyes accusing I search for his

  Darkness rushes in around me so swiftly everything begins to fade. Trying to suck in my next breath I hear it rattle in my ribcage. My damaged heart falters.

  Then it stops beating altogether.

  Phillip

  Shock.

  I think I’m in shock.

  And if the lack of action around me is any indication, my family is too.

  Ava doesn’t even have time to gasp for breath before her heart stops. Bastard got a direct hit.

  Sheila is the first to react; she throws a wounded Ivan into the wall. Fucker recovers well and goes after my wife with his bare hands.

  I shoot at him but it’s almost as if the bullets roll off. Well, that’s not good.

  “Get him out of here.” Damien’s voice is low, cold. It sends a chill up my spine.

  I reach into the waistband of Damien’s slacks and pull out one of his knives, then join my wife on the other side of the room.

  Ivan is like a bull in a china shop, the way he’s trying to use his size to bulldoze over Sheila. My wife is much too skilled for that, she’s able to dodge him, but it doesn’t look like she’s able to do any damage with her knife.

  So the bastard can repelled bullets and knives when he sees them coming. Interesting.

  “Oh fuck,” Michael says when he bursts into the room.

  Ivan gets a hand around Sheila’s neck and lifts my wife off of the ground. Rage. Pure unadulterated rage courses through me.

  I don’t think, I let my only weapon fly.

  I miss my mark by an inch or so, instead of lodging itself into his kidney the knife sinks just above it. It’s enough for the Russian bastard to howl and he loosens his grip. Sheila thrusts her leg out, kicking him square in the chest, he throws her and from where I stand I can hear her skull crack against the wall.

  “Oscar!” I shout.

  Every instinct is screaming at me to go to my wife, but my brother needs me more.

  With one hand I grab Ivan by his stringy blond hair. My other arm wraps around his neck.

  He flings himself backwards, trying to dislodge me, I barely miss hitting my head on the floor.

  I tighten my arm around his neck, trying to cut off his air supply. “You stupid mother fucker.” I hiss in his ear. “You couldn’t take the easy way out.” Raising my knees to his hips I try to hold him in place.

  With the lack of oxygen he’s having a hard time trying to find purchase on the ground, no leverage for him to roll and throw me off.

  “Let me tell you something.” My voice is low, no emotion showing through. “The princess wasn’t worth it. We are happy to die for her and her child because she’s our family. But you? It was unnecessary.

  You should have ran with your limp dick tucked between your legs.”

  He roars and I chuckle.

  Samson appears above me, he jerks Ivan up by his filthy shirt. I cling to the fucker like a monkey when Samson stands Ivan up.

  “Walk fucker.” I hiss, squeezing his neck tighter.

  I need a gun, I’d feel much better with the weight of one in my palm, unfortunately the bastard would be prepared for that.

  Someone presses against my back, Shaun I’m assuming, just by the size and smell of him. Through the overwhelming stench of Ava’s blood it’s hard to tell.

  He pushes, Samson pulls, and I squeeze. Somehow we get the fucker out of the room and into the corridor. He doesn’t make it easy of course. Thrashing wildly. Trying to dislodge me, trying to kick, punch, and buck the Bensons off.

  However the gunshot wound I was able to inflict in his abdomen is doing its job. I wasn’t aiming to kill, just maim.

  This whole time it’s been bleeding.

  The closeness of my shot made sure to lodge the bullet deep within him.

  That and the fact that Sheila stuck him deep in an artery in his neck. Who knows what he was doing to Ava in the hours before we showed up. He has bulk and brute strength, but he doesn’t have stamina.

  He was pale even before we began beating him.

  Shaun kicks him, hard, in the knee and he falls. I slip from his back but don’t let go of his neck. Removing my hand from his hair I reach my hand behind my back. Shaun presses a knife into it.

  With deadly precision I jab it into his kidney. But I don’t twist. No. Damien deserves the honors of killing the fucker.

  I step away as Ivan arches and howls at the pain. He starts to stand but Samson kicks him in the gut, sending him sprawling to the floor. He moans as the knife digs in deeper.

  Oscar, Sheila, and Damien meet us in the hallway.

  “You stupid fucker.” Damien says, his voice devoid of any emotion. “I really wish I were in the mood to play. But I have a childless mother in need of medical care and a dead wife to mourn.

  It must be your lucky day.”

  Damien looks up from Ivan’s pain filled face. His eyes meet mine. They’re almost glowing with how silver they are.

  I’ve seen Damien in the heat of the moment many times over the years. I’ve seen him lose his temper too many times to count. He always turns into an emotionless, heartless executioner.

  But this? This is something else altogether.

  The coldness that has always lived inside is out full force now. And I don’t know if it’ll ever return to its cage.

  Damien

  There’s only one thing I know in this moment: kill.

  With a swift kick I have Ivan roaring in pain. He tries to get up but my siblings are there to stop him.

  They hold him down and I pull out a blade.

  So t
he fucker can stop anything he sees coming, can he? Well, he’s never met an opponent like me.

  I nod my head, just slightly. My family knows what to do.

  The sound of gunfire rings loudly in my ears. Blades sinking into flesh. Boots hitting every vulnerable spot on his body that they can.

  Ivan can’t deflect every single bullet, every blade, not with five different vamps going after him at the same time.

  I take one calm step to him. So I’m standing over his head.

  I have a blade in my hand. The weight is perfect. The silver is cool against my palm.

  But I don’t use it.

  Ivan’s head is thrashing back and forth, his mouth wide open.

  I bring my foot back, slowly. And then swiftly I make the first kick. It catches him in the ear.

  Ivan yells. I kick again. And again. Again and again and again. Until the left side of his head is covered in blood and unrecognizable.

  My siblings have stopped with their attack. They’re now holding him still for me.

  With a deep breath I raise my foot and bring it down on Ivan’s head. Over and over again I stomp on his skull.

  The bones crack under my boot.

  Blood and brain matter splatter.

  It’s done.

  He’s gone.

  And so is my wife.

  EPILOGUE

  Damien

  Two Weeks Later

  I’M SWAYING BACK AND FORTH in front of the window in my office. My daughter sound asleep in my arms.

  I never thought I’d be a father, but here I am.

  The man I am today is not the one I was a year ago. Hell the man I was two weeks ago is a far cry from the man I am now.

  I have an entire state to myself. I have two covens who are trying to figure out how to live in peace for the first time in over seventy years.

  I have a family that is full of killers.

  I have a dead wife.

  I have a daughter.

  A daughter that has managed to become the only bright spot in my life.

  Alice shifts in my arms and I readjust. This has been the longest two weeks of my life. I don’t think I’ve slept one bit.

  It has less to do with her being up every few hours than it is with seeing the lifeless body of Ava Carr everytime I close my eyes.

  The princess was a pain in my ass from day one. I never should have gone after her, and I sure as fuck never should have fallen in love with her.

  I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. But I do truly regret dragging her into my world. However, I don’t regret Alice. I can’t.

  It’s moments like this, when she sleeps peacefully in my arms that I wonder, what kind of people were my parents? Were Ava’s? To allow us to grow up in the environments we did. To allow us to grow up without the warmth and love we deserved. Barely two weeks in and I know I would never do to her what our parents did to us.

  How weak they were. To not feel even an ounce of emotion for us.

  I’m far from weak.

  I’m also far from the proper role model.

  One thing I do know, my daughter may grow up in a world where violence is usually the answer to all problems, but she will still be loved. Not only by me but by her uncles and her aunt. And the fucking Benson clan. Never thought I’d see the day where Hank Benson looked so natural holding a tiny infant in his arms.

  No, my daughter may not have the most conventional upbringing, but she will be loved.

  And she won’t be weak. She might learn how to kill before she learns how to talk, but that is okay. It will benefit us all in the end.

  With her pale skin, and dark curls, she reminds me so much of the fucking princess. But her eyes. Those silver eyes that are the only mark of a Rochester tell me all I need to know. Alice will grow up to be the queen of this empire I am trying to build.

  “I can’t give you much, darling,” I whisper. “I’m not a perfect man by any means. I can’t promise you will always understand me or my motives, but I will promise you that I will be there when you need me. I can’t promise you’ll always be safe, in our family there are no guarantees, but darling, I will be there for you.”

  I press a kiss to my daughter’s head and close my eyes.

  I’m thankful for something I never knew I wanted.

  I may not be a good man, but I’ll be the best fucking man I can be, for her.

  ABRI’S ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  While writing is something I do for me being able to share my words with people is a joy. The path I’ve chosen is a hard one, with demanding characters and storylines and many hours spent hunched over the keyboard, yet it is so rewarding I don’t ever want to do anything else.

  Writing this book was an experience, one that I enjoyed from start to finish. It wouldn’t have been possible of course without Claire Marta. I couldn’t have found a better writing partner. You jumped in feet first with me and I’m so glad you did. Yes, I pushed to get my way over many things and will continue to do so, but you surprised me at every turn and I couldn’t be prouder of the finished product. Your friendship means the world to me, it always has. Thank you for taking this journey with me. Here’s to hopefully many more.

  Lorelei Bercot- You’re the one who listens when I have an idea or thought or just need to vent. You never complain, always taking my crazy in stride and being my ear or shoulder when I need one. I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you for being by my side all this time. I don’t know what I would do without you.

  Tiffany Marchesotti- You frustrate me, you drive me crazy, you make me mad. But I love you. I might not always like you, but I love you. No one will ever get me or all the reasons why I am the way I am besides you, after all you were there too. I wouldn’t want a different mother, you’re fine just as you are.

  Elaina Lucia- I wouldn’t be here without you. From day one you’ve been kind and loving and so supportive. You’re the best friend I always wanted growing up but never had. Without you in my corner I don’t know what’d I’d do. You cheer me on and know how to talk me off the ledge when I’m barely hanging on. You bring me joy and make me laugh when I desperately need it-especially during the times when you don’t know just how far I’ve fallen. Thank you for being so selflessly you.

  I’ve met so many people in this community, had so many experiences, both good and bad, however, I’d like to think the good outweighs the bad. For those I didn’t name, I don’t appreciate you any less, I just can’t go on and on because this list will never end.

  To everyone who reads this book and any other book I write, thank you.

  CLAIRE’S ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I have always enjoyed spinning my tales. Co-writing a book is something I have always wanted to experience. Abrianna Denae I loved the way our story flowed. It got to the point we both needed to write it as much as we could because we both got so swept up in the story unfolding. Thank you for being my partner in crime! Your friendship means the world to me. I could not have done this without you.

  Christine - Thank you for beta reading and your feedback as always it was invaluable. I always adore your messages!

  To my readers - I hope your reading for something a little different. Abri and I enjoyed writing this so much.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Abrianna Denae

  Abrianna Denae is a twenty-one-year-old author living in Northern California. An English major, she has always had a passion for writing.

  Deciding to sit down and write one of the many stories that had plagued her mind for years was the easy part—finding the time to do it was a different story.

  Caffeine is her best friend, and sleep is her worst enemy.

  A lover of books that make the reader feel something, she tries to incorporate as much of her real-world views and feelings into her stories as she can.

  Abrianna spends way too much time on Facebook. You can find her here: http://www.facebook.com/abridenae

  You can also email her: authorabridenae@gmail.com

  Other book
s written by Abrianna: Forever (Destroyed By Love, Book One)

  Claire Marta

  Claire Marta writes hot, suspenseful Paranormal romance.

  A native Brit, she live in Italy with her husband and daughter. When she’s not writing and drinking copious amounts of tea, she enjoys taking photos of her adoptive country, tries to stay fit with running and reads amazing books while being a stay at home mother.

  Her other books include The Hunter Chronicles: Frostbite, Dark Desires, Claimed By Magic, The Serpent’s Kiss, Twitch. The Ceasefire Series: The Devil You Know.