by India Kells
Table of Contents
Definitions
Prologue
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
About the Author
License Notes
Copyright © 2018 by India Kells
Editing and proofreading by Black Opal Proofreading
Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Design
Formatting by Deranged Doctor Design
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-7751135-0-8
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
www.indiakells.com
Table of Contents
Definitions
Prologue
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
About the Author
“If you want to believe in your purpose – you have to keep company with people who believe in your purpose too.”
“At the end of the day, all you need is hope and strength.
Hope that it will get better and strength to hold on until it does.”
Definitions
Bastard
~ An illegitimate child
~ An offensive or disagreeable person
Dark Sparrow
~ A small gray-brown songbird
~ A soul offered a new life in exchange for a favor to be repaid later
Prologue
Office in The City—London
Lazarus King looked at the map pinned on the wall. Once more, colored dots were scattered over countries and borders. Very important dots. Vital for him. Not targets, not missions. So much more personal. Nothing before had struck a chord so deep inside his soul. Him, a former M16 operative, a leader of men, a keeper of secrets, his Achille’s heel was easy to find. Family. Blood. His brothers. All of them bastards.
Most of them didn’t know of his existence, but he knew a lot about them. Lazarus sought them out, dug up everything he could to keep them safe. Most of his siblings didn’t know they were bastards, and if he had a say about it, they never would. While he had suffered most of his life and despised the man who sired him, he would try to leave those who lead a sheltered and loving life in the dark. Ignorance was often underrated, and it was something that he had learned the hard way all his life.
And now, it was time to fight again as the monster was rising. His father, Jamieson Finch, had tried to kill his mother, as a way to get to him, to bring him to his knees, but it didn’t work. Lazarus knew that stopping that megalomaniac wouldn’t be simple or easy, but it had to be done. Especially since the sights of this evil man were set on other targets. If he could use his illegitimate sons for his own gain, he would. If he had to kill them to gain more power, he wouldn’t even hesitate. It was time to act, to reach out to the powerful resources and friendships he had forged over the years to put Finch down like a sick dog.
And as he was calling his cavalry, very reluctantly, Lazarus knew he had to be prepared.
His phone buzzed twice in his pocket, but he ignored the signal from his alarm. Few people would have the skills or the balls to bypass his security system, and only one would have both, as well as the courtesy of triggering it voluntarily to announce her arrival.
“Good evening, Beatrice.”
A very feminine laugh came from behind him, and the sound of her voice made him smile. Turning around, he saw his pixie friend, her short fiery hair in disarray, her face with a malicious grin as she sat behind his desk. There sat the founder and leader of Purgatory, the infamous organization dedicated to impossible and dangerous rescue missions, threading a very thin and gray line between justice and illegality. And one of Lazarus’ allies for many years.
“Hello, Oz. As I see, you haven’t improved your security system since the last time I visited. And after all you’ve been through, paint me disappointed.”
Her British accent, so close to his own, was filled with sarcasm.
“It had been, but obviously not enough for the boss of the mighty Purgatory. It seems that my new security expert will be fired in the morning.”
Beatrice swiveled her chair before getting to her feet and coming to him. He and Beatrice had been at odds over their respective careers, but despite their disagreements, they always had deep affection and respect for each other. Towering over her smaller frame, Lazarus obliged by bending at the waist to offer his bearded cheek for a kiss.
As she stepped back, Bea cocked an eyebrow before crossing her arms. “So, my dear, here I am, halfway around the globe from where I should be, and let me tell you that my husband is not happy about it. It’s lucky that he’s forgiven you for last month’s snafu and that you are his favorite poker partner.”
Lazarus nodded. “Your admiral of a husband likes to play with me because I let him win. Because of that, he would forgive me almost everything.”
Beatrice smiled sweetly, which was her most dangerous grin. “Continue to believe that, when we both know I can empty both your pockets at that game faster than you can blink. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
They had known and respected each other for a long time, and Beatrice would never fall for a simple, friendly request.
“The last time we saw each other...”
Beatrice burst out laughing. “No, let me stop y
ou here. The last time you asked for a favor, it was to save you mother and my best agents almost died. It wasn’t a simple visit over tea. I remember most of my agents being on the run and one of my men was seriously wounded. It’s a miracle we could save everybody. By the way, how’s your mother?”
Beatrice always wanted to put everything in the open. “Good. She’s great in fact, already planning her next humanitarian mission.”
“Bet on her next mission; she won’t be going alone.”
Lazarus shook his head. “Nope. If I can’t stop her, I’ll make sure to have eyes on her at all times. And it’s not the only thing I decided. This whole mission was caused by someone threatening my mother. And when I learned that my father was behind all that, willing to kill her only to get to me, I knew that the tables had to be turned. That’s why I called you here. The asshole who sired me has to die.”
Beatrice didn’t react and simply waited. That was when he realized that he had shouted his answer. Losing control was not his style, but it seemed that he had reached his point of no return, his body strung tight and his mind bubbling. After years of thinking his father was dead, discovering that it wasn’t the case changed his perspective. And learning that not only was the man alive, but he had sired bastards like himself around the globe, shook him to the core. He thought there was only him and his mother in the world, when, in fact, he had brothers. And he had searched for every one of them, and somehow felt responsible for their protection. Being given a family, he never knew he had, did that to a man.
“Beatrice...” How could he put what he believed and felt in words? He slid a restless hand through his jet-black hair, taking a calming breath. “I can’t leave a threat alone. Not one as powerful and dangerous as Jamieson Finch. Something is brewing, and if my family, my siblings are involved or at risk…”
The red-haired woman sighed and turned, taking few steps to stand before one of the modern art paintings he liked so much. His office was in the shadows, with only the lights of London twinkling in the distance. Illuminated by separate lights, the swirl of colors from his artwork had a way of calming him down, making him focus. But not today.
It seemed that minutes passed before his friend spoke again.
“Your father...”
“Don’t call him that.” His voice snapped like a whip. A warning.
“Whatever you want to call him, Jamieson Finch is trying to get to you. And succeeding. That’s what worries me.”
“That man is targeting me alright. He’s dangerous and needs to be stopped.”
“And are you forgetting that he’s insanely rich, powerful and has connections in high places? He’s not an easy target. For anybody. Not even you. And he proved so less than a month ago when he kidnapped your mother. You barely got out of there alive.”
“Are you doubting my skills?”
Beatrice turned to him, with a soft smile on her face. “Never, Lazarus. I know where you come from, and what you can do. All I’m saying is it won’t be easy, and it’s not a one-man mission.”
Lazarus nodded and came to stand beside Beatrice. Before answering, he grounded himself in the colors exploding on the canvas, before saying the words that hurt like hell.
“That’s why I need your help. And now that things have settled, on your side and mine, we can talk.”
Beatrice sighed. “Purgatory is good, but to go against Finch, we won’t be enough. He will expect us now, and I can’t put everyone in my care…”
“I’m not asking you to compromise Purgatory officially. But I would be grateful if you could lend me your resources. Unofficially. Discreetly. A month ago, back in that safehouse, Gabrielle, seemed to have suggested something. A possible option. I want to know about.”
It was clear Beatrice wasn’t happy to be reminded of that event, and Lazarus knew that Gabrielle, her second in command, had opened a door she may not have had the authorization to do. Reluctant to show her aces, she asked a question instead. “What’s your plan?”
“I’m not Finch’s only bastard. You are right. To bring him down, I’ll need help. The only way is to protect my brothers. Stay close to them as Finch is closing in. One by one I found information about them, about where they possibly are, and discovered that, like me, they have made a name for themselves. I don’t want to alert Finch, by sending a squad or bringing them in a secluded place. That’s why I would need your agents to find them, protect them, find out if Finch has a link with them. Only by uncovering what Finch is up to and attacking his weakest point will it allow us to bring him down for good.”
Beatrice seemed to ponder on it for a while. “You are asking for strangers to find almost invisible shadows, play the middle men in gaining their trust, protecting them not only from one of the most powerful men in the world but also from their father?”
It was difficult not to wince at her summary, but Lazarus did the best he could. “It’s the only way, Bea. I’m tired of being prey. That’s not my natural state, and you know it. I never thought I’d have to ask for Purgatory’s help, except that Gabrielle told me about another possibility. She referred to sparrows, and I saw your face change. Is this a possibility? A game changer?”
Beatrice hesitated before giving up with a sigh. “I don’t like Finch either, and if what you need is a miracle, I may have a solution for you. If you agree to my terms.”
Lazarus almost let out a breath of relief. Finally, he saw a sliver of light in his nightmare.
“But I can’t, and won’t, use my current, official agents. Even if they work in the shadows, the members of Purgatory are not invisible, even as skilled as they are. I won’t underestimate Finch; he isn’t stupid.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
Beatrice smiled. “Some people who owe me favors. Big favors. I saved their lives at some point, but they decided to remain hidden until I’m ever in need of them. Nobody would suspect them, not even Finch.”
The possibility bolstered his spirit. At last, he could see hope. “Can they be trusted?”
Beatrice’s eyes turned into hard gems, glittering. “Lazarus, I would never send little rabbits into the wolf’s den. And these people are loyal to me... to a fault. I will send Gabrielle with them, as a contact and they will trust her as their handler. Send me the information on the first brother you want to find and protect, and I’ll send one of my Dark Sparrows.”
Chapter 1
San Antonio, Texas
“Come on Jason; you can do it one more time. And you know we ladies love when you go the extra mile!”
Deva winked at the young man struggling to pull himself up one more time on the bars, his smile turning into a frustrated grimace, his arm muscles and shoulders straining with the effort.
“You’re a slave driver, and I hate you!”
Deva only arched an eyebrow at the half-serious threat and pursed her lips. “I’ve been called worse. Now, do as I say, slave, and use more of your leg to push yourself up. I want you straighter. No more slouching on my watch.”
Sweat pouring from his face, Jason grunted and moved slowly, his body tense as a bow. And as she hoped, he pulled himself to a standing position by himself. Trembling from the effort, and for the very first time, the wounded soldier offered her a beaming smile.
“Fuck yeah! Oh, sorry about that, Deva.”
Having heard far worse language in her life, and as his success with standing for the first time in months bringing the shadow of a smile on his young, stern face, Deva let it slide. She lived for these moments as a physical therapist; fighting through the struggles, the pain, to finally see a sliver of hope in men and women who had lost it. That’s all she needed to keep going, to encourage the patients into her care and help them more than they hoped for in their lives after bouts of tragedy and pain.
Jason, a young Marine, had been severely wounded during a mission five months ago, losing his left leg at the knee, his right one damaged almost beyond repair with several shrapnel pieces embedded into his back, putting
pressure on his spinal cord. His prognosis had been bleak, condemning him to a wheelchair. When he had undergone all possible surgeries to stabilize his situation, and no more could be done on that front, he had been moved to the Greenwood Rehabilitation Center where Deva had worked for the last ten years. Upon their arrival, the patients were in pain, inside and out. That was when the true work started. The center didn’t offer miracles or hope, but hard work, and tough love with the goal of offering the patient a chance at a more normal life. Some of those young men and women would never get back to the body and life they once knew, and Deva was well aware of that. It was a mourning period only they could go through. What she wanted to give these wounded souls, through her words and her skills, was a sense that life could be good again. That it was worth living again. Make them fight for it!
Sidestepping behind her patient, she placed her hands on his hips. “Keep straight another thirty seconds, and I’ll give you a break.”
The Marine turned his head slightly in her direction, a wry grin on his face. “If you slide your hands a bit forward, I’ll tough it out for a full minute.”
Deva rolled her eyes behind his back, but she knew that when they started to make lewd remarks if only in jest, it meant that something had shifted in them and they were heading in the right direction. Another part of their humanity was clicking back in its place, like a piece of a puzzle.
“I’m not in charge of rehabilitating that part of your anatomy, sweetie. But I’ll take that minute, though.”
Jason half laughed, half grunted, but true to his word; he stayed standing for a full minute, just as he said. Prepared, Deva discreetly moved the wheelchair with her foot, ready if his arms gave out. But as she suspected, his pride and determination kept him up almost as much as his straining, underused muscles.
When she slowly helped him down into a seated position, the man was grinning like a fool and heaving as if he had run a marathon, sweat staining his t-shirt emblazoned with the Marine Corps logo.
