Amber (Amber trilogy Book 1)

by Hati Bell

  Pride shone in his eyes and Drake tightened. He was disgusted with himself because a part of him-a small part that he would eradicate-was flattered by Kincaid’s approval. “I hate you,” he countered. “No human or dragon has hated another as much as I hate you.”

  Kincaid stroked his goatee. “Hate is a very powerful and dark emotion. It either forges you into a stronger being or destroys you. Do not let it destroy you after the trials you have been through tonight. There is nothing left anyone could take away from you. No weakness or opening in your arsenal they can use against you. When your time comes, you will rule as a true Kincaid, as you were destined.”

  Drake stared blindly at the wall in front of him, while his demons mockingly played a silent movie repeating the last hours of his life. “You’re right,” he concurred as he changed his hands into weapons. “Darkness and hate are a part of my soul that will never leave me, since she’s gone. There’s no one to cast them away anymore. I bathed in her scorching flames tonight and I survived. Just as I will survive you.”

  Everything that happened next went so fast. Cujo sensed the threat and lunged with a demonic growl forward, his teeth ripping into Drake’s arm. He welcomed the pain of his flesh being shredded and his bones fracturing.

  With his good arm he grabbed Cujo’s head and bashed it into the wall. Kincaid’s eyes widened, and a fire emerged in them when Cujo’s head split open.

  “A life for a life,” Drake hissed, after which he pulled loose the threads connecting Kincaid to the life support machine. Kincaid gasped for breath and sunk into his cushions, looking ashen.

  Drake plastered himself against the door. Sixty seconds, it was an important number, was all that shot through his pain-ridden mind. Sixty beats and Kincaid would end up as no more than a footnote in the Council’s chronicles, but he would live on. He would live to honor the supernova who was extinguished before her time.

  After he took over Kincaid’s empire.

  Dear reader,

  Thank you for reading Amber. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry to leave you with a cliffy, but there was no way around it. Sometimes life just throws you a curveball. Continue reading the preview of the seriously action packed second book in the Amber trilogy, “Titanium” (the first two chapters are added in the back).

  As a new author I would love to hear from you, either good or bad, so I will know what my readers like and dislike. I would appreciate it immensely if you would consider leaving a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

  Rock on!

  Love,

  Hati

  Sign up to my newsletter for pre-launch info on my books.

  ONE

  Dining with his family and staying in a good mood was like trying to jam a piece of rope through the eye of a needle‒impossible. Drake shifted in his chair while his eyes drifted over the extensive gardens of the Dome, the estate that would finally be his in about two months. The conversation in the background between Kincaid, his right-hand man Gregor, and his son-in-law Malcolm murmured on about the regular topics, like the economy and Kincaid Industries. His own thoughts wandered to another place, in another time.

  A short life with you in it was worth more than a long one without you. I have no regrets and neither should you.

  It was exactly a year ago today that Amber’s last words had been etched into his soul. Words that had brought him to his knees, and that made his soul shiver in pain. His mind refocused to the present when his aunt suddenly started talking.

  “I had a phone call with my legal team this morning, Father,” she said. Her fingers, which were playing with her pearl necklace, tensed. “It will no doubt please you to know that I revoked my claim on the Dome.”

  Was he the only one who noticed the icy rage in her voice? Elizabeth Kincaid–she used her maiden name–had offended her father by hiring an army of barristers to dispute Drake’s inheritance. He’d doubted that his grandfather would grant him even an inch of the extensive estate, and the inheritance that came with it, but it had been his grandmother’s last wish that he would inherit it on his twenty-first birthday. And Kincaid still worshiped the ground his deceased wife had walked on. He would abide by her last wish.

  Elizabeth’s husband Malcolm cleared his throat. “I’m happy that this incident within the family has been resolved, darling,” he said as he raised his glass. This earned him a withering glare, and he visibly cringed.

  “That was a royal gesture of you, Elizabeth,” Kincaid said and he, too, raised his glass. “Apparently, you do have something in common with your namesake.”

  Elizabeth’s spindly body curled up like a cobra. “I could have had more in common with Elizabeth I if you’d have given me a chance,” she said stiffly. “Or if I had been born a man.”

  Not this again.

  Kincaid clearly thought the same, because he looked visibly relieved when the doors of the patio were opened and dessert was served. As soon as the servants were gone, Elizabeth continued. “Henry should have gotten a position with Kincaid Industries ages ago.”

  Drake looked at his cousin across the table from him, who was scooping from his pudding. His marine blue jacket was a lot tighter than the last time he‘d seen him. Apparently, they fed him well at Cambridge.

  “Henry’s not a Kincaid,” Kincaid said indifferently.

  Elizabeth wound a dark curl around her finger. “His last name is nothing but a formality. That can be easily changed.”

  Her husband smiled tightly, but remained silent, no doubt to keep the peace.

  Kincaid put his glass down and looked at his grandson. It wasn’t until the room fell silent that Henry noticed all eyes were on him. “Henry, do you deem yourself competent enough to execute a function in the family business after only one year of business school?”

  His cousin choked on his dessert and cleared his throat.

  “I can take him under my wing,” Elizabeth said quickly.

  “You don’t work for Kincaid Industries,” Kincaid said curtly.

  “I should have been the CEO of Kincaid Industries a long time ago!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I am your only child, and I hold an MBA in finance. Welcome to the twenty-first century, father. Nowadays, women can have a family and run a business at the same time. Just because mother got sick when she was working and became incapable of telling delusion from reality…”

  The silverware went airborne when Kincaid slammed his fist on the table. “Enough! One more disrespectful word about your mother, and I will throw you off the estate even faster than Drake would do.”

  Gregor glanced at Elizabeth as if he’d swallowed a lemon, but remained silent.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, bastard?” his aunt hissed.

  Drake grinned. He would be the last to deny Kincaid’s words. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Liz. Nowadays, you can be a bastard and still inherit an estate.”

  Elizabeth jumped up and snapped her fingers at her family. “You will regret this,” she snarled as she dashed out the door.

  Malcolm grabbed her purse from the table and, after giving an apologetic look, rushed after her. Henry looked, contemplating, from his dessert to the door, and after a sigh he left too.

  Kincaid looked after them pensively. “Darrow was right,” he said. The first half of our lives are ruined by our parents and the second half by our children.”

  Drake looked after Kincaid as he walked away to his blooming gardens behind the estate. After he’d nearly killed Kincaid a year ago, they were not exactly on speaking terms anymore. Kincaid spent more and more time walking in his gardens lately, as if he were saying goodbye to them. When he wasn’t there, he could be found training with Gregor.

  “Every time you go head-to-head with your grandfather or aunt you remind me of Ariana,” Gregor said, his voice tinged with melancholy.

  Drake reminisced about that day, years ago, when his father had been lying on the ground, passed out from liquor, his face ashen instead of the usual wine-red. He’d called an ambula
nce. After the paramedics had taken them to the hospital, someone from the child protection services had arrived. She’d brought him to the Dome, to his family. His youthful naivete had actually made him believe that he was saved. It had been the first and only time he had seen Ariana Kincaid. A smile had lit his grandmother’s pale face and she’d been about to leave her chair when Kincaid had stopped her.

  “She wasn’t exactly going head-to-head with him when I came here the first time,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “I was eleven years old, hungry, and afraid my dad was going to die. A single word from Kincaid and my grandmother stayed in her seat, not saying a word. The child protections services lady couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  Gregor stared straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought. “Your grandmother had been already ill for quite a while when you met her. Kincaid feared the stress of taking care of you would would take a toll on her and weaken her further. He would have never allowed your father to use you to worm his way back into the Dome. Ariana left you the Dome and a fortune to make it up to you. Don’t you dare speak of her with anything bur the utmost respect.”

  Drake recognized the pained expression in Gregor’s eyes. The poor idiot. “You loved her.” He sincerely doubted if Kincaid knew. He couldn’t imagine Gregor ever confessing his secret love. Kincaid would kill him in a heartbeat if he ever found out. His grandfather wasn’t the kind of man who shared his woman. Not even after she’d died.

  A shadow marred Gregor’s face and he nodded. “Ariana’s unfortunate death was unexpected and had the power to cripple your grandfather, but he didn’t allow that to happen. Instead of drowning himself in sorrow with booze-something your father was prone to do-Kincaid used his pain to inflict the same sorrow on his enemies. A deed that protects every Kincaid up until today,” he said cryptically.

  Drake shoved his dessert away and got up. “Speaking of the Kincaid name, you promised to help me once I took on the name.”

  A silver eyebrow cocked up. “Which I have been doing the past year, have I not?”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “You’re referring to the phoenix girl.”

  His condescending tone made Drake’s hackles rise, but he kept his temper in check. Remember the plan. “I’m tired of you just giving me enough information to keep me busy, but not enough to be actually useful. It’s been a year since she went into a coma. Kincaid must know of a way to wake her up. As his right hand, you should know something as well.”

  To his surprise, Gregor nodded. “I do know how to wake the girl indeed.”

  That took the wind out of his sails. “And why are you telling me this only now?”

  “You weren’t ready before.”

  Drake scowled. “That’s not for you to decide. This was not the bloody deal. You were going to help me, not withhold information.”

  Gregor shrugged. “Sometimes the best way to help you is by withholding information. You forget that my loyalty lies with the Kincaid family. However, since you’re determined to mindlessly pursue your obsession, I will help you, so-afterwards-you can finally focus on more important issues. A first-time-awakened phoenix can only be woken by two people. Her promesi or her phoenix-maker, in this case her father.”

  He forced himself to not tear into the silver fox who had been withholding crucial information from him. “What is a promesi?”

  “It’s the title of a phoenix mentor, a protector if you will. Like any other baby phoenix, Miss O’Neill was appointed a promesi to teach her their ways when she awakens. The bond between promesis is the strongest there is between phoenixes. A ritual right after birth gives her promesi the power to wake her with his fire.

  An unwelcome memory of a man cast in shadows appeared in his mind. “To you I’m Azazel, Belial, Lucifer, and Shejtan, all in one. Keep your puny claws away from my promesi or you will regret it.” He was liking Gregor’s words less and less. “What about her father? Do you know who he is?”

  A grimace appeared on Gregor’s face. “Her father is another reason why your goal of waking her is useless. There’s bad blood between him and Kincaid. If you tangle with a phoenix you will get burned. These are creatures who are hundreds and sometimes thousands of years old. They have their own laws. It’s difficult to negotiate with creatures already living during times of human sacrifices and medieval torture techniques.”

  “I’m prepared to take that risk.”

  “But I’m not,” Gregor countered. “I couldn’t put you on his trail as long as there was the risk of him turning you to ash.”

  Drake’s anger resurfaced. “All this time you deliberately were working against me while pretending to help me.”

  Gregor snorted. “I did it to protect your reckless arse. You have taken the Kincaid name, which means that the phoenix you are searching for can’t kill you anymore. Your grandfather is one of the few dragons in history who was able to keep a phoenix in line. The same characteristics you hate him for have been able to elicit a rare blood promise from a phoenix-a promise that protects every Kincaid against an excruciatingly painful death.”

  “How do I find him?”

  “I strongly advice you not to.”

  “How the fuck do I find him?”

  Gregor let out a deep sigh. “Let your blood flow while speaking out his full phoenix name and he will appear, if he chooses to.” He lifted a finger in warning. “And before you ask, I can’t give you his name. I made Kincaid a dragon promise not to.”

  Bugger. As usual, Kincaid was one step ahead of him. “How do I find out his name?”

  “You are that certain that he’ll help you?”

  “Of course.”

  Gregor pulled a note from him jacket and gave it to him. “In two days there will be a phoenix party at this address. At informal get-togethers they allow inferi guests.”

  “Inferi?”

  “A phoenix considers anyone who isn’t of his own kind inferior, hence the term inferi,” Gregor said wryly. “Look for Benedict the Bonker. In his prime he monitored the European phoenix genealogy lines. He should be able to point you in the right direction.”

  Drake took the note and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling out the phone, he tapped the screen. His heart started to race when he read Logan’s message.

  Code fire.

  That could only mean one thing.

  TWO

  Drake stared at the wounds marring Amber’s neck. Someone had tried to bloody chain her with a titanium necklace last night. He stood frozen next to her hospital bed.

  Keep breathing. Stay calm. Remember the plan. She’s still alive.

  She was still in a coma, but at least she was where she was supposed to be, in the hospital.

  Logan picked the necklace off the floor and put it on the side table next to the flowers and cards. “She was lucky her attacker pushed over the vase and a nurse came to check her room out.”

  “Yeah, some fucking luck.”

  “We’ll take extra precautions.”

  Drake turned away from Amber. She was a constant reminder of him being powerless. Never before had he failed so epically. Never before had someone wounded him in a place he had considered himself untouchable. “She can’t stay here any longer. It’s not safe.”

  “Don’t you think that’s going a tad bit overboard?”

  “Have you forgotten what name I carry now?” The day he’d lost Amber, he had no longer been able to deny his heritage. The Kincaid name opened many doors. It also kept the local Council from taking Amber away and locking her up somewhere. So he’d taken the name. A name he’d liked as much as having the chicken pox.

  “I know exactly which name you carry,” Logan countered. “Have I congratulated you with it, by the way? I wish you had done it for yourself and not for some brain-dead‒”

  “Don’t call her that!” His dragon side roared for retaliation and his hands changed into claws. He cursed when he lost control over his body again. It was happening more and mor
e.

  Logan crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against Amber’s bed. “When are you going to accept that she might never wake up? Or maybe in fifty years? After all, she is a…” He cleared his throat. “You know what she is.”

  “A phoenix,” Drake said out loud. “Didn’t I tell you it’s only superstition that one pops up when you speak out the word?” He was sick and tired of everyone believing in old wives’ tales. Whoever had made it up had succeeded. He’d been chasing his own tail for a year now, trying to find a phoenix. He was done being patient and he was holding on to his self-control by a thread.

  “It’s difficult to just shake off superstition,” his brother said, searching the cranes and nooks of the clinically white room.

  The blasé attitude of his brother had a calming effect on him and he withdrew his claws. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started to type instructions. “She’s leaving here today.”

  “And how exactly do you mean to pull that off? You can’t take her home. Kincaid will never allow her to live under his roof with you. In two months your inheritance will kick in, making you the owner of the Dome and giving you the power to throw him out. Be smart and wait a few more months.” Logan waved at the machine Amber was connected to. “Also, you need someone with a medical degree to take care of her. It’s not like you can just put her in a room and only have to water her every few days.”

  “Way ahead of you.” Nowadays his life consisted of carefully constructed plans.

  Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna entrust her safety to Gregor.”

  “Why not? He has helped me so far, just as he’d promised.”

  “Trusting him is a mistake. She has a better chance staying here. The next time someone tries to hurt her, we’ll be ready. Also, she can’t die. She’s as good as immortal.”