Savagery & Skills: Books 1-4

by Ciara Graves

  “We know what you’ve been up to and you’re going to stop.”

  Damn. They knew who I was after all. They just had to go and ruin my fun.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, I think you do,” the vampire hissed.

  I snarled right back.

  He hesitated.

  “You really think you can scare me? You and your boy band here?”

  “You’re outnumbered.”

  “Check again, vampire.”

  A slow smile spread across my face at the sound of that growling voice.

  It’d been three months since I’d seen him. How he always managed to find me when I was in trouble was beyond me, but damned was I glad.

  The vampires turned to look at the tall, silver-haired, dark-skinned demon stalking toward them, the portal to the demon realm of Valesk behind him closing in a ring of fire. His hands were loose at his sides, but his face was set, ready for a fight.

  “Well? Care to continue this conversation? Or save yourselves some hurt,” Owen, that silver-haired, dark-skinned demon asked.

  The vampires hissed and backed away. The one who threatened me lingered a moment longer, narrowing his gaze as he bared his fangs, breath stinking of blood. “Best watch yourself, half-blood, or you’ll have a lot more to deal with than just four vampires.” He reached toward me.

  I hissed viciously.

  Owen growled, closing the distance between them in two long strides. He grabbed the vampire by the throat and threw him to the side, giving him a swift kick to the ass to get him moving along. He scampered away after his friends, throwing glares over his shoulder.

  “Why is it every time I come back, I find you staring down a pissed off crowd of supernaturals?” Owen asked me as he turned back around.

  “It’s a gift,” I replied.

  He rolled his eyes but reached an arm around my waist and drew me in close. “Gods, I missed you.” His lips brushed against mine, and I melted into his embrace.

  “Same.” I kissed him right back, then walked along with my arm around his waist, leaning into his side. “How was Valesk? Any exciting news from Otherworld?”

  Owen was a bodyguard for one of the demon ambassadors and worked for three months on, one month off. It wasn’t the best schedule in the world, but he had some time off in-between, when the ambassador didn’t need his full guard. We’d made it work these last couple of years, but there were days I wondered how long I could keep our relationship going.

  Owen wasn’t the problem. It was me I worried about screwing it up. Honestly, wouldn’t know what I’d do without him by my side, saving my ass all the time. He was twenty-five, just a little older than me, and had a large family. To say he was a great boyfriend was never good enough. I didn’t deserve him and was quite certain no one understood what he saw in a messed-up, tainted fae like me.

  “Nothing,” he eventually replied, though it seemed there was more to whatever he’d heard recently than nothing. “Same old boring news.”

  “That’s depressing. I was looking forward to something making my night better,” I pressed. But if it had anything to do with the ambassador’s safety, he couldn’t tell me.

  “Oh, what? I’m not enough?” He put on an overdramatic frown.

  “More than enough. I’m really glad you came back tonight, actually.”

  “You could’ve handled them on your own.”

  “Not arguing with you there.” I frowned and shook my head. “Never mind. Don’t want to ruin your first night back. Been too long.”

  He let it go, but his tense body told me this conversation was far from over.

  We reached my small cottage on the outskirts of town, but I didn’t want to go inside quite yet. I took the stone path around the back of the house to the gardens illuminated by magic orbs of light floating through the air.

  They brightened at my presence, and I smiled, reaching out toward the blues and purples as they moved out of my way.

  At the wooden bench Owen had crafted for me when I first bought this cottage, I sat down heavily, tucking my feet under me.

  He turned about slowly, taking in the garden and all that changed since he’d been here last. “The honeysuckle is coming in better this year. And the roses.”

  “I need to do some work out here. Haven’t much felt like gardening.”

  His grey eyes narrowed at my words. “Since when?”

  “A few days ago. This new job’s gotten under my skin, is all.”

  “Have anything to do with the vampires tonight?”

  “Might.”

  He sat down beside me, picking up a lock of my red hair in his fingers. “Seneca, if you’re in some sort of trouble, I’ll get you out of it.”

  “I don’t want you always having to save me,” I whispered, annoyed.

  “You think I care?” he growled. “It kills me every time I leave, knowing any day, you could get hurt—or worse—doing what you do. But I know you’ll never stop. Only reason I don’t ask you to find another job.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?” I asked, curious, resting my head back as he continued to play with my hair. Being with him was more relaxing than sitting in that club all night, seeing ghosts from my past.

  “You’re fae. You could garden, open a flower shop. Hell, you could run a great café.”

  “A café? Seriously?” I said with a laugh.

  “Why not? You’re sociable when you want to be.”

  “Hmm, not sure I could see myself serving tarts and lattes.”

  “You would have to leave your swords at home. Better than you risking your life for another payday.” He growled quietly.

  I knew what was coming next because it was the only thing we ever got aggravated at each other about.

  “You know I make enough to support us. The ambassador even gave me a raise. You could stop taking the risky jobs, at least.”

  “Those pay the best, and you are not going to take care of everything. That’s not what we agreed on. Not like we’re married.”

  I thought I heard him murmur, “Not yet,” and my stomach knotted, not in a happy, nervous way.

  “Things change,” he said, this time louder.

  “I said I could handle it,” I insisted and moved to get up. He caught my wrist and turned me back toward him.

  “Those vampires tonight, what were they talking about?”

  I considered not answering, but he was a damned stubborn demon when he wanted to be.

  “Draven. The Feds wanted me to get proof that Draven was involved in the murders of four of their agents.”

  His grip on my wrist tightened as if he was going to be able to keep me there. Keep me safe.

  “You can’t.”

  “I did,” I corrected. “Sort of, at least, but didn’t get what they needed.”

  “And?”

  “And the Fed wants me to keep trying, or they’re going to throw me under the bus. They really want this one.”

  I should have told him what else Agent Williams said, about them going after Rudarius, but if there was ever a way to ruin a night, mentioning that vampire was it. I’d keep that bit to myself if I could. Owen would march down to the Fed building himself and call Agent Williams out on it, which would lead to me having to explain why I knew the vampire. That was not something I wanted to do. Ever.

  “They can’t threaten you like that.”

  “I’m not a demon, so your ambassador can’t protect me.” I laughed harshly as I added, “I’m not all fae either and definitely not all vampire. No one’s going to save me from this mess.”

  “I will.” He pulled me down on his lap, making me feel so small against his broad chest. “I don’t care what I have to do, but you are not going to keep working on this case. You’re too close already, if Draven is sending his goons to scare you.”

  “Not like the head of the coven is actually here. He’s in Otherworld.”

  Whoops. Hadn’t meant to say that, but too late now. Owen�
�s arms closed protectively around me.

  “Doesn’t mean he can’t suddenly come here. And if he catches you poking around his coven, what do you think will happen? Sen, please, don’t do this. I worry about you enough, as it is.”

  I held his cheek in my hand as he shifted his face enough to kiss my palm. “I won’t get caught.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “If I think I’m getting too close, I’ll pull back. I promise. They won’t get me.”

  He wasn’t happy with me, but he didn’t argue anymore. He got up, setting me on my feet. “You eat yet tonight? I’m starving.”

  “Of course, you are,” I said with a laugh, and we went inside, leaving the colorful orbs floating through the garden.

  A scream ripped out of my throat as I thrashed, fighting against the hands holding me down.

  They’d found me again.

  I was trapped with no way out.

  I kicked and punched, struggling in vain to get free. I had to get away. Couldn’t let this be real. Not again.

  “Seneca. Come back to me,” a familiar growling voice said. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

  But it was a lie, had to be a lie.

  There was no such thing as safe. Nothing good left in the world.

  “Sen, open your eyes. Look at me.” A warm hand cupped my cheek.

  One by one, my eyes opened to find Owen’s worried face hovering over my own.

  He rested his forehead to mine the second I stopped fighting him.

  I clung to him instead.

  “You’re safe. There’s no one here, but me.” He didn’t let me go for a long while.

  Not that I wanted him to. My cheeks were wet, and I wiped at them. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” he growled loudly. “What did we talk about?”

  “Right. Don’t be sorry.”

  “Were you having nightmares while I was gone?”

  “No.” I cleared my throat. “None that bad.”

  “This is why I don’t want you working this case,” he said firmly. “It drags everything back out into the open.”

  “I can handle it.”

  His arched brow said he highly doubted it, especially after what he just saw. “Seneca.”

  “I need some water.” I pushed away from him, climbing out of bed.

  I walked into the bathroom and shut the door, flipping on the light. The water was cold when I splashed it on my face, but I hoped the shock would be enough to chase the rest of the nightmare away. It wasn’t. I gripped the sink hard, glaring at my reflection and doing everything I could, to not let my gaze drift lower. Too bad it never worked.

  My eyes found the scars at my wrists first, jagged and puckered from where the skin had been viciously torn open. Not once or twice, but more times than I could even remember. More slashes and burns created a roadmap of pain moving up my arms to my bare shoulders. Many were silver. More were red and twisted.

  When I first met Owen, I expected him to be disgusted at the sight of what resided beneath my shirt and sleeves. The worst scars were on my back. The time he saw those, I was sure he would leave me, but he hadn’t. Every fae prided having wings. We hardly used them here in the human world. I vaguely remembered using mine a few times when I was little, but the drain on our magic here was too much to have them out constantly.

  Not that it mattered anymore. I reached a hand around to my back, but before my fingers found the scar, Owen was there, stopping me.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” He squeezed my hand, kissing my bare shoulder.

  “Can’t help it. I can feel them all again. Like it just happened.”

  “I’m going to ask you one more time to not take this job. I will pull whatever strings I have to, but I will get you out of this.”

  I clenched my jaw, wanting to keep arguing, but maybe he was right.

  “That vampire took too much away from you already. Don’t let him take away whatever life and happiness you have.” He wrapped his arms around me as I leaned back into his chest. “Don’t let him keep ruling your life.”

  If only it was that easy to forget the horror those few years of my life had wrought. But it wasn’t that easy.

  How could a fae ever forget that she once had beautiful wings before they were torn from her back?

  That once I was simply fae and not tainted?

  I let Owen take me back to bed. I snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, the sound eventually lulling me to sleep.

  Chapter 2

  Seneca

  After I fell asleep, there were no more dreams. I woke with the sun, feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks.

  Owen shifted beside me, and I kissed his cheek.

  His first day or so back from Valesk, typically found him sleeping. He usually pulled the night shifts while he was on duty.

  I padded out of our bedroom to the kitchen, brewed some coffee, then stepped outside, into the chilly morning air.

  The warm mug heated my palms and the orbs that glowed at night shimmered during the day. They floated toward me as I moved through the dewy grass to the edge of the garden.

  “You do need some love,” I murmured to my poor neglected plants.

  Tugging my hair back in a bun, I found my small rake and shears, then went to work weeding and pruning the beds. The cool earth beneath my hands eased my tense muscles, and I lost myself in the chore.

  Memories came to my mind of gardening with my parents. They were fae, and the gardens at home had been beyond magnificent. One day, I might return there.

  Owen wanted me to quit my job and simply enjoy life, but I worried I’d get bored.

  No, not bored. I worried the darkness would surface, and with nothing to distract myself, I’d be lost in it until they locked me away in the loony bin.

  Or worse, I’d turn into the heartless person I feared I would become.

  A killer without a care in the world for whom I hurt.

  The sun rose higher, warming my back. There was one benefit to my fae blood, after being bit by a vampire. The sun had no effect on me whatsoever. I’m not sure I could’ve lived without it. It was as much a part of me as the earth beneath my feet.

  I reached for the roses to prune a few dead leaves away when I stuck my finger on a large thorn.

  “Really?” I muttered.

  I drew my hand back to check my finger. Blood welled, and I watched it, fascinated by the crimson color.

  There was no thirst to drink it. My fae blood helped keep that hunger in check.

  Drinking blood only aided in making me stronger for a time, which meant I rarely, if ever, drank blood from another living being. I could count the times on one hand that I had a sip. Mostly to see what it would do.

  My eyes remained locked on that drop of blood, and though the sun was warm, a chill rushed over me, raising the hair on my arms.

  I blinked.

  The garden shifted away from my view.

  Digging my hand into the grass, I willed my mind to remain grounded, but the pain and fear were too strong. They dragged me back to that very first moment when I prayed for death, wanted it to come and take me away.

  But death never heard me.

  “What’s the matter, pet?” a voice hissed in my ear. “You don’t like your new home?”

  “This isn’t my home.” I shook, making the chains that held me to the wall rattle. “Please, just let me go.”

  “Why would I do that? Precious thing like you is hard to come by. So very rare. I’m afraid I can’t simply let you go.”

  “I’m no one. Just let me go,” I pleaded through my tears.

  An icy hand grabbed the nape of my neck, forcing my head back, so I had no choice but to look up into those fierce red eyes. Fangs protruded from his gums as he opened his mouth wide. “The sweet smell of your blood is tempting, so tempting. Alas, you are not a simple fae, are you? I had my suspicions, but now I have proof.”

  A dead vampire lay nearby, his
lips covered in blood that had sizzled right out of his veins after he’d bitten me on the arm. The bite wound stung, and I was in shock at seeing the monster bleed out. All because of me.

  My captor shoved me aside, and I fell to the cold stone in relief. “You are special, yes, very special indeed, my pet.”

  I shook my head. “No. I told you I’m no one.”

  “We shall see, my pet, we shall see. Ah, and look at those beautiful wings.”

  I gasped when he grabbed hold of one and forced it from my skin. He held it up to the light, shifting it back and forth, so the color played through the opaque violets and greens.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.”

  “Hurt? Oh no, pet, I am not going to hurt you,” he hissed. “I am going to break you.”

  I had no idea what he meant at that moment. No idea.

  “Seneca?” A firm hand grabbed my shoulder.

  I whirled around with the rake ready to embed it in that monster’s face. Except it wasn’t him standing behind me.

  Owen caught my wrist and yanked the rake out of my stiff grip. His brow wrinkled as he looked at me and I failed to form words.

  He checked my hands then and found the speck of blood. “Come with me.”

  I didn’t argue, letting him drag me back inside the cottage. He grabbed a kitchen towel and wrapped it around my bleeding finger, squeezing it hard to make it stop.

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

  He growled.

  “Why aren’t you still sleeping?”

  “Because I’m not,” he replied shortly.

  “It was nothing. Just a prick of the finger.”

  “It’s not your finger I’m worried about. You were back there again and don’t even try to lie about it. You were. It’s lingering on your face.”

  Working my jaw, I attempted to think of a story to tell him, but he knew me too well.

  “What are your plans for today?” he asked, checking my finger to see if the bleeding stopped.

  “Go to the city. Track down Draven’s contacts. See if I can’t find where he’s going to be over the next couple of days.”