by Karen Lynch
Roland pointed to one of the pictures above my desk. “What about Nate? You’re going to leave him, too?”
I sank down in my desk chair and put my head in my hands. “It’s not like I want to leave him, Roland. I almost lost him, and it kills me to hurt him like this. But I’m doing this for him, too. He’s a prisoner here as long as the Master is out there. After last night, I don’t think he’s safe anywhere.”
“You’re set on this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Once I set my mind on a course, there was no changing it, and he knew it. The last thing I wanted was to leave Nikolas and Nate, or Tristan or Jordan or Desmund. But this wasn’t about what I wanted. I knew with every fiber of my being that I had to do this.
“Fine. Then I’m going with you.”
Hope flared in my chest, and I jerked my head up to stare at him. But just as quickly as the hope had ignited, I stamped it out. As much as I didn’t want to do this alone, I could not drag him into it. “No, I can’t let you do that.”
He crossed his arms and his mouth formed a stubborn line. “If I don’t go, you don’t go.”
“But what about your mom and school? You can’t miss your senior year.”
“Mom will understand . . . eventually. And school sucks without you.”
I chewed my nail anxiously. I was more than a little nervous about what I planned to do, and it would be a lot less scary with Roland by my side. There was no one I’d trust more with my life than my best friend. Well, almost no one. I forced myself not to think about Nikolas.
“Okay.”
It was Roland’s turn to get up and pace. “Sara, are you sure you want to do this?”
I set my shoulders and met his blue eyes filled with worry. “This vampire killed my dad and tried to take Nate from me. He’s tried more than once to kill me. He declared war on my family, and I am not going to sit around and wait to see what horrible thing he does next. This time, I’m taking the fight to him.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered. “So let me see if I have this right. We’re going to hunt down your mother and a vampire Master while half the blood suckers in the country are looking for you? Not to mention the Mohiri?”
The last four months, I had been hunted and terrorized and I had witnessed more brutality and death than anyone should see in a lifetime. I was tired of being afraid, tired of feeling weak, tired of crying. Roland was right; we were going to be constantly looking over our shoulders. I’d just have to make sure to stay a few steps ahead of them all. And the last thing the Master would expect is for me to leave the stronghold and go out on my own. If we were lucky, we could find Madeline and be back here before he even knew I was gone.
“That’s the plan.”
Roland groaned. “You forget one very important thing,” he said dejectedly. “That vampire is not all you have to worry about. Nikolas is going to come after you, and he’s going to be royally pissed. There’s gonna be hell to pay if either of them gets their hands on you?”
“Have a little faith, Roland.” I lifted my chin and smiled at him. “They’re going to have to catch me first.”
~ The End ~
Coming in 2015,
Rogue, the thrilling final chapter of the Relentless trilogy.
Sara tried it their way and it didn’t work. Now she is taking matters into her own hands.
The Master thinks he has her running scared, but Sara’s done being afraid.
This time, she’s coming for him.
Author Note
If you enjoyed Refuge, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. You can also drop me a line at my website or Facebook or Twitter. I’d love to hear from you.
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Now, read on for excerpts from books by two of my favorite authors: Hope(less) by Melissa Haag and Grimnirs by Ednah Walters.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I like to thank my family and friends for their encouragement and unfailing support. Thank you to my amazing cover artist Nikos for his patience and ability to know what I want before I do. Thank you to my friends in my writing group, Prolific Pens, for your support and for helping to keep my creative batteries charged. Thank you to my editor, Kelly, and my wonderful beta readers: Anne Marie, Teresa, Rachel and Melissa. A special thanks to two amazing authors: Melissa Haag and Ednah Walters for their advice and guidance and most importantly, their friendship. And last but not least, thanks to my brother, Alex, for being a surly old dragon and providing a little extra character for this story.
About the Author
When she is not at her job as a computer programmer, Karen Lynch can be found writing, reading and baking. A native of Newfoundland, Canada, she currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her cats and two crazy loveable German Shepherds: Rudy and Sophie.
Now Available
Hope(less)
A riveting sweet romance by debut author Melissa Haag
In a world filled with people, Gabby is uniquely alone. The tiny sparks she sees in her mind represent the people around her, but she doesn't know why she sees them. A chance encounter leads her closer to answers she's struggled to find and into a hidden society where fur is optional.
“Gabby, wait,” Sam called.
Hearing him stand and follow me caused my stomach to dip. My steps slowed for a heartbeat. Stepping through the door could compromise my wellbeing...but staying inside wouldn’t get me answers. The door beckoned. I stepped through onto a packed dirt path and looked around.
The light that spilled from the door illuminated a small area. The trees that crowded the building left only a small gap of about twenty feet between the treeline and the roofline, which cast the area in an early dusk. In the cleared space near the back door, twenty men waited quietly. I frowned, puzzled. Something still felt off. I’d expected to see many more given the rushed Introductions.
Closing my eyes, I breathed deep and focused. Tiny sparks flashed around me in the darkness. Sam, I saw, stood to my right. His spark glowed steadily, not blinking at all. The group of twenty was different.
Some of the werewolves’ lights blinked like strobes. Some faster, some slower. Some so slow, I at first thought they might have left. As I studied them, it began to make sense. I wasn’t seeing werewolves quickly running all over the place, rather an arrhythmic indication of a werewolf’s location. I focused beyond the twenty. Lights too numerous to count stood out in the darkness. It would take hours to meet them all.
Had all the prior Introductions been a farce, a game to keep me from running until Sam could arrange the real thing? How strongly were the Elders determined to see me Mated? Would they let me leave unMated? Had my thoughts of college been a dream? I struggled with my growing frustration and panic. No. Not a dream. I wouldn’t give up.
I opened my eyes already knowing that the group of twenty had doubled. I studied their faces and noted more bruising and blood. Some men dressed in jeans and shirts while others wore clothes too filthy from fighting to identify. Seeing the filth and blood, I understood why they wanted to rush the Introductions. Too many werewolves had arrived for this; and the Mating challenges the Elders feared, had begun.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Anger churned in my stomach at Sam for not telling me. I felt tricked and yet sad for the men waiting.
“Sam,” I said, turning my gaze on him. There was nothing playful in my look. I wanted to tell him that I would never forgive him for this but knew the werewolves listening would take my words as a rejection. It would take away what little hope they had facing these numbers. Instead, I let my look convey everything I felt.
He lowered his gaze and broke eye contact, something he never did first. Good. He knew.
I turned away and studied the growing crowd. I’d lived among them enough to know not to show intimidation. They respected strength. With their hear
ing, I didn’t need to raise my voice. Even those still hidden within the trees would hear me.
“No more fighting. There’s no need to wait and fight for your place in tonight’s Introduction. I will meet you all. Start a line here, and I’ll walk it. If I am not right for you, there is no need for you to remain after I’ve passed you. You may leave and know that I am honored by your presence here tonight.”
Men silently stepped from the trees and moved to create a line as I’d asked. They continued to emerge from the woods even as the line extended around the corner. Because of that, new rows started behind the first line. The shuffling continued until roughly five hundred gathered. So many men focused on me, all at the same time, made my stomach churn. If they were human...I suppressed a shudder at the thought.
Ignoring the vast number, I moved toward the first man, nodded stoically, then turned to start the slow walk down the line. The Elders kept pace with me. I didn’t bother pausing to meet anyone’s eyes. Only my scent mattered.
As I’d asked, those without a strong interest stepped out of the line and walked back into the woods. It allowed those behind them to move forward and take their place. When I reached the end, I turned around to walk it again. I paced the line several times in silence so all would get their fair chance. As the number remaining decreased, my mood lightened. Sam made note of names as needed. Soon only a handful of men remained.
While my future loomed brighter, theirs dimmed. I nodded solemnly to those remaining and watched them melt back into the trees. I truly felt for them, but I’d experienced no attraction to any of them—no pull that Sam and other Elders and werewolves had assured me I would feel when—not if—I met the one. A triumphant smile wanted to break free, but I contained it, not wanting to offend anyone. Finally, my duty was complete. I breathed deeply of freedom, ready to go back to my room.
Behind me, the Elders moved, reminding me of their presence. My mood shifted. The anger and betrayal from their lack of warning resurfaced. With a stiff back and tight mouth, I made my way toward the door and the waiting Elders. I didn’t meet any of their eyes.
Sam had hours during the drive to say something but hadn’t, and now all of his secrecy had been for nothing. I hadn’t found a mate. Did he realize the pointlessness of his gesture? I seriously doubted telling me in advance would have changed the outcome other than to make me nervous during the drive up. That, however, would mean I shouldn’t be mad at him so I quickly disregarded the thought. Honesty was honesty. He should have told me.
Walking the dirt path, which I realized I’d tread over several times in my socks, I saw a peculiar shadow on the ground melding with the shadow of the still open door.
I looked up at the space behind the door and saw the flash of eyes just before a man stepped into view. I froze. My stomach dropped, and my heart did a strange little flip. Before I could take my next breath, a shiver ran up my spine and gooseflesh rose on my arms. My anger spiked, uncontrolled.
“You have got to be kidding,” I whispered to myself without thinking. I’d been so close to escaping.
His filthy long, dark hair trailed in front of his eyes and shadowed his face into obscurity. An old, dull-green army jacket, just as filthy as his hair, hung from his frame while his bare feet shone pale against the black sweats he wore. I couldn’t tell his age, the color of his hair, or the color of his eyes—because of the tangle of hair—but I could see the glint of them as he moved away from the door.
He stalked toward me. I remained frozen and tried to deny the significance of the encounter as my stomach continued to do crazy little flips. Just before he reached me, he turned away and walked around the corner of the building, heading not into the woods as the rest had, but to the front of the building.
I stared after him, momentarily confused. He’d recognized me. Just as I had him. Why had he turned away? Did it matter? Move! Escape before he changed his mind!
Finally, my feet obeyed, and I lurched toward the door.
“Sam, I’ve more than fulfilled any obligation I had to you or the pack. I’d like to leave tonight.” The Elders stepped aside before I bowled them over.
I rushed past them, through the Introduction room and into the interior hall. There I paused to pull off my dirt-caked socks. Charlene would have me cleaning floors if I walked through the halls in my filthy socks.
Maneuvering through the fortuitously quiet and empty halls, I struggled to control my emotions. Over the years, I’d learned control, knowing those around me would be able to smell things like fear, anger, lust, or even sadness. But tonight all that control evaporated. Anger and fear swamped me. Anger at Sam for arranging the whole damn thing, and fear that the Elders knew what had just happened.
I’d been so close to freedom. Sam had set me up, stacking the odds against me with the sheer number of werewolves in attendance. Why would it have to be the very last one I saw that sent a bolt of lightning right into my stomach? Was it too much to ask for just one break in my life?
GRIMNIRS: A RUNES NOVEL
Published: Jan 12th 2014
©Ednah Walters
~*~
SUMMARY: My name is Cora Jemison. Something happened to me when lightning hit the swimming pool during a meet and now I can see ghost. After a stint in the psych ward, I’m convinced I know how to deal with them—basically, ignore them. Boy, was I wrong? You see, someone else is in town and our paths are about to collide.
~*~
This was a sucky day to be me, but then again, ever since I started seeing ghosts, my life had gone down the toilet. The guy I’d loved since elementary school but basically treated me like his annoying younger sister forgot about me. I forgave him for choosing my best friend because you didn’t cherry-pick who you loved. But for the two of them to write me off just because I was admitted in a psych ward? That was unforgivable.
To add insult to injury, I got the freaking ghosts. They weren’t just in hospitals and cemeteries. They were attached to people, buildings, and objects. And lately, it seemed like they were attached to me. Or attracted to me.
I picked up a pint of ricotta cheese, turned, and smothered a screech. The woman ghost was so close I almost walked through her. I took a step back. I’d walked through one of them and put the experience under never-to-be-repeated. It had felt like being dunked in a murky, icy pond. Totally gross.
Her mouth opened and closed.
“I can’t hear you, so go away,” I said through clenched teeth.
She kept talking, gesturing wildly. I tried to walk around her, but she blocked my path.
“Leave. Me. Alone,” I snarled then glanced around to see if anyone had heard me. The few shoppers hadn’t noticed my odd behavior yet. “Shoo.”
I turned to go the other away, but the angry ghost-father was watching us. His eyes narrowed as though his humans-who-can-see-ghosts radar just clicked on. He started toward us.
I searched for the nearest metallic object. Thank you, Dean and Sam Winchester. The fictitious brothers used iron to disperse ghosts in the hit TV series Supernatural. The crap actually worked. I’d used a fire poker on one that had wandered into my room a few days ago, and it caused her to disappear.
I grabbed what looked like a cheese grater from the shelf and hefted it. It was heavy, which meant it had more iron than whatever other crap they’d used to make it. I waved the cheese grater around like a ninja with a dagger and hoped no one saw me and called Mom.
I shuddered. No more psych ward. No more meds. As much as I’d hated being committed, the meds had been worse. They’d made me act loopy.
The female ghost watched me warily. At least she’d stopped opening her mouth like a fish. Yeah, I bet she knew what iron did to her kind. The angry dude was closer now, and he wasn’t alone. Two other ghosts had joined him, all eager to chat.
Damn it! I hated when they ganged up on me. A wave of iciness drifted from them, and I shivered. Yeah, come on. Come on, you bodiless, icy bastards, and taste the iron.
“Hey,” a commanding voice cut through the air. “You guys are with me, not her.”
Different expressions crossed the ghosts’ faces—annoyance, terror, defiance. The angry Italian’s eyes darted left then right.
“Don’t even think about it, Morello,” the voice snapped. “If you make me hunt you down again, I will make the rest of your existence so miserable you will beg for a second death. Capisci?”
I turned to look at the speaker, but the only person there was the old woman, who looked petrified. I didn’t blame her. That voice was terrifying and irritating. I hated bossy people.
“Sally, you’ve had your twenty-four hours. Time to go,” the voice continued, and then he stepped from behind a rack.
Whoa. Leather, leather, and even more leather, way too much to be fashionable. Unless it had become the “in thing” while I was gone. His voice said he didn’t bend or bow to anyone or anything, so I doubted he cared about fashion trends.
The hooded, ankle-length black leather duster was tailored to fit his tall body and broad shoulders. It hugged his upper torso before flowing to the floor. Ringed and tattooed fingers peeked through fingerless gloves, but as I watched, the tats disappeared as though absorbed into his skin. Weird. Leather pants and boots finished his attire.
My eyes moved up. Even his shirt was made of leather. I reached his face and blinked. Or maybe I should say I reached where his face should have been. There was nothing but darkness under the hood, yet the store was well lit. I peered at him but still saw nothing. A scarf of some kind covered his neck. Surely, it was too early to be dressed like an Eskimo. Besides, this was Kayville, Oregon. We didn’t get snow until late winter.
