Diminished (Winter's Wrath Book 2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  Diminished

  Winter’s Wrath 2

  Bianca Sommerland

  Contents

  Also by Bianca Sommerland

  Acknowledgments

  That Which We Call

  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

  About the Author

  Also by Bianca Sommerland

  Diminished © March 2017 by Bianca Sommerland

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Also by Bianca Sommerland

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  The Dartmouth Cobras

  Blind Pass

  Butterfly Style

  Game Misconduct

  Defensive Zone

  Breakaway

  Offside

  Delayed Penalty

  Iron Cross

  Goal Line

  Line Brawl

  Also

  Deadly Captive

  Collateral Damage

  The End – Coming Soon

  Celestial Pets: Evil’s Embrace

  Solid Education

  Street Smarts

  Forbidden Steps

  Rosemary Entwined

  The Trip

  Tamed (Feral Bonds 0.5)

  Winter’s Wrath Series

  Backlash

  Diminished

  Acknowledgments

  Another year has gone by and I still can’t believe how lucky I am to be living the life I’ve always dreamed of. It might not be as glamorous as I’d imagined it would be as a little girl, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am here because of not only my hard work, but the love and support of some of the best people I’ve ever known.

  Cherise, we’ve got to stop meeting like this! Lol! Seriously, though, your guidance never fails to strengthen the stories a push me to reach deeper, reveal more, and truly let the character’s voices be heard.

  To Heather, thank you for encouraging me every step of the way. Your friendship means so much to me and I can’t wait to see you again.

  Stacey, you are family. The kind of family who has your back through the most difficult times, who celebrates your accomplishments. Who always makes you feel as though you’re enough. One that’s chosen because we have a bond that’s stronger than blood.

  In other words, I love you and I’m keeping you forever! <3

  As always, I will end this with a note to my girls. I want to tell you to stop growing so fast, but, at the same time, I’m eager to see all you will accomplish. You’re both strong, beautiful young women with big hearts and an inner strength I’m so proud of. Some days will be hard, but don’t forget who you are. Intelligent, loving, and unstoppable. The world belongs to people like you. Don’t let anything stand in your way.

  “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

  ~Leonard Cohen

  That Which We Call

  Snow falling as you drift,

  Farther and Farther away.

  Pulse slows

  But did your heart ever beat at all?

  Come closer,

  Please don’t fall

  Fall farther and farther away.

  I need you now.

  Need you more every day.

  What’s in a name?

  A promise never kept,

  Deceit so high.

  The pedestal where we buried you,

  With flowers in the snow.

  Come closer,

  Please don’t fall

  Fall farther and farther away.

  I need you now.

  Need you more every day.

  Let me pretend,

  Make it a new game.

  You were the man I looked up to,

  So alone.

  Never found,

  But I’ll never stop searching.

  For you in my reflection.

  Chapter One

  The bitter cold of the morning seeped into the room, chilling and refreshing all at once. Shiori Ayase pulled on the black leather duster jacket she’d found at a vintage store earlier that week, long enough to cover her simple, snug black dress and keep her warm. Black stiletto boots and her outfit was complete.

  And would get her out of the house for her interview without an interrogation. If she could reach the bus stop, she could handle whatever the world threw at her.

  She slipped out of her bedroom and walked the twenty-two steps along the carpeted hall, holding tight to her purse strap so the metal chains wouldn’t jingle. A flash from the living room doorway, followed by the theme song for Sesame Street told her Hiro was awake. He’d be fine with his cartoons while she was gone, but she didn’t want him to hear her leaving. If he fussed and woke her stepfather, the man would demand to know where she was going.

  She managed to get the front door open without so much as a click before soft, padded footsteps sounded behind her.

  “Where are you off to?”

  Shiori planted a calm smile on her lips and turned to face her stepfather’s girlfriend, Elizabeth. “Just a job interview.”

  The tall, slender brunette looked her over, her brows lifting as though she was ready to question Shiori’s words. Then she smirked. “Good. You’re too old to still be living off Brian. Are you thinking of moving out?”

  That was a tricky question to answer. Shiori would have moved out a long time ago if it wasn’t for Hiro, but Elizabeth was convinced that she stayed because she was too lazy to get a job. Nothing Shiori said would change her mind, so she didn’t bother explaining herself anymore.

  And if she wanted to get out of the house before her stepfather woke up, she needed to keep the conversation short.

  So she simply shrugged. “If I get the job, I might. Wish me luck?”

  “Good luck.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Not to be a bitch, but it’
s about damn time.”

  Not bothering to answer, Shiori stepped out onto the front walkway, closing the door softly behind her. She hurried through the fresh white snow covering the sidewalk, reaching the bus stop with a few minutes to spare.

  Only once she’d taken a seat on the bus heading to downtown Detroit did she let herself relax. She plugged her earbuds into her phone and slipped them in her ears, closing her eyes as the music pulled her in.

  She’d listened to this album over and over since it came out. Her best friend, since high school, Wendy, had pre-ordered the album with a whole fan pack—T-shirts, guitar pick, phone cover—last month for Shiori’s twentieth birthday. They both loved the music, but Wendy follow the band almost religiously. She’d been over the moon about the interview, convinced that Shiori would definitely get the contract and would soon have backstage passes to hand out.

  If Shiori got the job and had access to passes, she would get Wendy one. But she didn’t consider anything in life a sure thing. And even if she got the contract, could she take it? Wendy knew all her plans, and most of the reasons behind them, but she didn’t understand why Shiori was afraid to leave her nephew for any length of time.

  Elizabeth might hate Shiori, but she was good with Hiro. He loved her and he’d be taken care of if Shiori was gone for a few weeks.

  But her stepfather was a different story. Elizabeth thought he was an amazing man, taking care of his stepdaughter on his own for so long, as well as the child of the other stepdaughter who’d lost her life so young. In her eyes, the man was a saint.

  Just thinking of her big sister brought tears to Shiori’s eyes. Kyoko had Hiro when she was only sixteen, but while she was pregnant, she’d still had so many plans for their future. She wanted to get a place somewhere. Take Shiori with her. And leave the life they’d been trapped in since their mother’s death.

  She gotten to hold her son only once as her small, delicate body lost the last of the strength she’d retained during the difficult pregnancy.

  “Promise me you’ll take care of him, Shiori. That he’ll never…that what happened to us will never happen to him.”

  “I promise.” Shiori had taken Hiro into her arms as the doctors and nurses rushed around her, one drawing her aside as they tried to save her sister.

  The doctor had warned Kyoko that she might not survive bringing the baby to term. Shiori watched them, helpless, knowing her sister was already gone.

  Kyoko hadn’t cared about the risk. She loved Hiro’s father and used all her strength to cling to the only part of him she had left. Asking Shiori to care for their child had meant more than her own survival. Once Shiori said the words, Kyoko let go.

  I would have taken care of him no matter what.

  Keeping her promise to her sister hadn’t been hard, but Hiro was getting older. Almost six now. Another year or so and she might not be able to protect him. The casting call had come at the perfect time. Her stepfather was going to Taiwan for a couple months to negotiate a business merger. There was nothing holding her back.

  Wendy had called her, freaking out when she saw the post involving their favorite band.

  “Diverse Faces, Shiori! You’d be perfect for this!” Wendy laughed, happy even though she had to be a little jealous. “Too bad they’re not looking for a cute, short, pudgy redhead. I’d so try out!”

  “Oh stop it, you’re beautiful.” Shiori read the article on the heavy metal site, which speculated on why the band would need another model on such short notice. Her pulse quickened as she clicked on the link to the agency and filled out the application. She’d left the link open until the next day, bringing her laptop to Wendy’s house so her best friend could read over all she’d written and take a few pictures to upload. “There’s gonna be girls all over the country applying. I’ll try, but there’s no guarantee I’ll get in.”

  “But you deserve it! Shiori, listen to me. None of them are you and you have an advantage.” Wendy bit her bottom lip. “Maybe if you tell them everything, they’ll—”

  “No.” Shiori clicked send on what she’d put together and set her laptop aside. “What if they say something? I won’t risk it. If this doesn’t work, I’ll find another way.”

  “What if you can’t?” Wendy frowned, her smooth, freckled forehead creasing with concern. “This isn’t only your chance to get away, Shiori. It’s his.”

  Shiori’s throat tightened. “I know. And I…I’ll think about it, okay? But if I’m not a good fit, any story I might tell them won’t change that.”

  Wendy had let it go at that. She imagined a much better future for Shiori than she’d ever considered for herself, but her enthusiasm helped Shiori get a little wrapped up in the dream. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe she could actually change her life.

  Hope could be painful, so she didn’t lean on it too much. Tonight, she’d be coming home to the same life she’d been living since she was a little girl. Being ignored was usually the best scenario. Being noticed was bad.

  But today, she needed to be noticed. To stand apart.

  The bus pulled up to her stop and she quickly made her way onto the curb. Double checked the address, then headed into the office building. Getting past the first stage, where she’d actually been invited for an interview, was a big deal. Even if she didn’t get the job she wanted, she might have other opportunities.

  Could she take them, though? A chance to give Hiro a better life—even if she had to leave him for a short while—was worth just about anything. But money alone didn’t guarantee that.

  The receptionist smiled at her and waved her on, instructing her to go to the waiting room on the eighth floor. Shiori took the elevator up, slipped her jacket off, and folded it over her arm. She stepped out, looking around at the clean, crisp white and glass room, with photos of models on every wall. Her eyes went wide as she took them in.

  Every picture portrayed a woman that defied the typical standards of beauty. Many magazines still had blue eyed, blond women on the cover, but these images made them seem plain. There was a black woman in several pictures whose fierce gaze alone made her impossible to forget. Another prominent picture was of an older Chinese woman whose smile lit up the whole room. A picture of an Indian woman, with a bindi mark on her forehead, hung on the wall behind the desk in the center of the room. As stunning as every woman on display.

  Did Shiori really belonged here? Sure, she was pretty. Being pretty hadn’t worked in her favor since she was little. She wasn’t as smart as people assumed she would be. Even well-meaning teachers asked if her parents expected better than the grades she managed.

  Her stepfather didn’t care about grades. So long as she didn’t do bad enough for teachers to annoy him, he was satisfied. She’d learned how to make his coffee in the morning, to be sweet and quiet. He considered that traditional enough. She was his good little girl. Pretty and submissive. What more could a man want from a daughter?

  Her own father would have expected more. She told herself so all the time, even though he’d died before she was born. Maybe he would have been one of those fathers who went to violin recitals and smiled when his child played perfectly. Or showed up at teacher/parent interviews, asking how his child could improve in math or science.

  She had Japanese friends who complained that their parents always wanted them to do better. And she’d give anything to be one of them. Her grandparents had been like that with her mother, and she’d always spoken fondly of them. Even after they disowned her for marrying Shiori’s stepfather.

  They’d hated the man. Had wanted better for their daughter. And, in some way, even her mother had believed them cutting her off had been out of love. But she’d chosen a man over her family.

  And refused to admit she’d made a mistake until her very last breath.

  “Shiori?” A tall, black woman, in a charcoal-colored suit, came into the waiting room, pulling Shiori from her thoughts. She smiled when Shiori looked up, holding out her hand as Shiori approached he
r. “A pleasure to meet you. Please come with me.”

  She led Shiori to an office down a long hall, lined with various pictures of the agencies models. Shiori spotted a portrait of the model who worked with the band and inhaled roughly. After just a few months in the music scene, the model’s face could be recognized anywhere. She’d done perfume ads with a member of the band. Several magazine spreads. A music video that was already considered one of the most impressive in the business in recent years.

  If Shiori got the job, she’d be working with her. And despite all her other reasons for wanting the contract with the band, one of the most personal was that she really wanted to meet the woman. Ever since she’d first heard of Danica Tallien, she’d admired her. There were rumors of Danica dating one of the members of the band, but none shadowed the impression she’d made with her presence in the music scene. She wasn’t the first model to step on stage during a heavy metal performance, but few had made as big of an impact as she had.

  Her beginning as a child star, then her return as a fierce performer, set her apart.

  The office Shiori stepped into had walls of glass. She shut the door carefully, intimidated by the knowledge any who walked by could see her. Maybe one of those famous models? She focused on the room. A modern office, with a sharply defined black desk and two art deco, red padded metal chairs sitting in front of it. Suitable for the CEO of one of the leading agencies in the fashion world.

  “Shiori, please have a seat and make yourself comfortable. My name is Sophie.” The woman motioned Shiori to one of the chairs. “I’ll assume you read the email and know your profile will be done here once we’ve spoken, since you don’t have one already. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed, but things move fast here. I called you in because I think you have the look my agency needs. You applied specifically for this casting call, but are you interested in other work if we find something for you?”