Gravestones & Wicked Bones (Shadow Creatures Book 1)

by D. D. Miers

  "You've gotta stop saying that," I warned him. "The urge to punch you gets stronger every time. Almost like it's some magical spell."

  Kylo and Damon snickered, but Brax ignored me.

  "And I found something else. A recipe. I couldn't tell you if it was for a spell or a potion or what. Not at first. A lot of it was abbreviated or written in code." He opened another book and pointed to a long, scrawling list of mostly unintelligible symbols and ancient lettering.

  "Yeah, no kidding," Ivy muttered.

  "Thankfully, I was able to read a little bit deeper into it than most people," Brax said, a spark in his eyes. "With my vision, I could see what was in the minds and hearts of those who wrote it. And, you know . . . I kind of wish I hadn't looked. It wasn't pretty. At first, I couldn't make sense of it. It was dark. A lot of pain, a lot of suffering. Fire and brimstone. I finally saw the important part of the vision. It was only a glimpse, but it was enough."

  He jerked his head toward the drawing of Fred, still propped open against his knee.

  Ivy glanced from the drawing to his face and then back again a few times.

  "Are you saying this . . . this potion, this ritual, whatever? It has something to do with bringing Fred to manifest?"

  Brax nodded. "I think so. The thing is, usually a demon is summoned. It's a very specific kind of ritual, and it's easy enough to recognize. A few candles, a sigil, maybe a dash of human sacrifice. But nothing like this. This is something different and altogether darker. It's a recipe. It's building instructions."

  "So, you're saying, this Fred . . . " Ivy exhaled softly. "He doesn't actually exist? He's not a demon that can be summoned; he's a creature that has to be made?"

  Brax nodded slowly. "I know it sounds crazy. More than the usual spells and prophecies. But I was able to translate a little of the recipe, with a lot of research and a lot of brute force codebreaking. I should work for the damn CIA."

  Violet stared at him. Angry, snarky and irritated—but underneath it all, intrigued. As though she’d just seen him for the first time. Ivy was not gonna like that.

  "And that's where I noticed something," Brax went on. "One of the crucial ingredients in this ritual, this recipe, is a vial of blood drawn out of the heart vein from the half breed of the prophecy."

  If we were sitting at a table, I would've flipped it.

  My tattoos seared against my flesh, the edges creating a steady pulse of fiery pain. My demon roared.

  "No.” I stood abruptly. Kylo and Damon positioned themselves between me and the women, while everyone else who gathered around Brax like faithful disciples, jumped.

  Blaze said, “The fuck, Dante?”

  "This stupid goddamn prophecy," I growled, staring Brax down. His steady gaze didn't waver. "You keep on beating this drum. I'm telling you it's just a bunch of stupid coincidences. I'm not part of some greater plan.”

  The four men looked at each other but didn’t argue. Finally, after minutes of heavy silence, Brax nodded.

  "Fair enough," he said quietly. "You're the boss."

  “That’s right, I am.” I marched across the campsite, snagging a beer out of the ice chest Kylo had picked up, and flipped off the cap, downing the entire bottle in one swig. Right now, I wished it were Fae wine and not this cheap human bullshit.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched Ivy hugging her sisters as if she was getting ready to leave. ‘Ivy training’ drained me more than I cared to admit, but I still needed to do one more thing.

  “Ivy,” I called as I walked passed her, heading farther away from the group.

  She dropped her arms from around Jade. “What?”

  I stopped and crooked a finger at her. “Follow me. Now.”

  Chapter 16

  Ivy

  I swallowed. Shit. What did he want?

  “Why?”

  His lips couldn’t have flattened any further. “Do you ever stop asking questions?”

  Reluctant as my steps were, I followed after him, beyond the cover of a large oak tree.

  “What do you want, Dante?”

  “It’s not what I want,” he said, almost humoring me with his sudden ability to look out for someone other than himself. “It’s what you need.”

  “What I—” My breath caught in my throat. He didn’t need to explain any further, not as his arms lifted and pinned me between him and the tree at my back. “No Dante, just . . . no.”

  I may have welcomed more energy and strength, but I wasn’t oblivious to how it drained others. It also drew me further toward him. And who was to say he wouldn’t need it more than me?

  “Ivy, it’ll be fine.” He sounded so certain I nearly believed him.

  “Look, you can’t be—”

  His finger pressed across my lips, the heat of him nearly more convincing than his words.

  “It will be fine,” he reiterated, so solidly I couldn’t find it in myself to refute him. No matter how angry or upset I was, that ever-present pull remained.

  “Okay,” I breathed, as I ignored my sense of loss at his dropped finger. “Fine.” At least this would be me taking from him, rather than the other way around.

  His hands settled back against the tree, leaving me wondering if it was his warmth or mine that seemed to fill the space between us. Already I could smell his heady scent, covered with a small dose of the beer he’d just downed. And I could almost taste the vigor he was so apt to freely give.

  My rational mind screamed how bad this idea was, but I couldn’t fight it—fight her. My succubus always claimed her heart’s desires, even when I tried to stop her.

  With a single, sliding step forward I closed the gap between us and breathed in his strength. I’d barely even pulled, yet his energy flowed into me like a river, intoxicating me in seconds. My lashes fluttered upward, their lack of stillness born of the stupor that had me staring into Dante’s determined, yet lustful gaze.

  I didn’t want to see that look in his eyes, not as the strength of his energy surged through me and left me panting in desire. Yet, some things just aren’t worth fighting.

  The collar of his shirt curled into my grip, and I pulled him down until our lips crashed in a fit of lust as he shoved me back against the tree. Knots and snapped-off branches dug into my back, but the pain was easy to ignore as I kissed him with more fury than ever before.

  He was feeding me—my energy and my lust—and with my hands snaking down his chest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find an escape. His tongue trailed across my lips opening floodgates even I could not have predicted. His energy was strong, but the swells of energy crashing over me then were unlike anything I’d ever felt.

  My limbs tingled in a strange exhilaration as I deepened the kiss and pulled . . . and pulled.

  A whisper of warning tugged at the back of my mind and went on ignored second after intoxicating second. Yet, the tick of it was like a fly buzzing in one's ear, and soon, I could silence it no more.

  As empty as it made me feel, I pushed upon Dante’s chest, freeing myself of not only the taste of his lips, but the surging power of his energy. I could still feel it, as if it pulsated through my veins, while the dampness of my lips had my tongue sweeping out in taste of it.

  “Thanks.” It was the best I could offer as I forced myself to slip away from his grasp and the magnetism that threatened to drag me back.

  * * *

  A day had passed since Brax's little campfire lesson. Tonight, I’d head for Bastian’s, seduce him, subdue him, grab the vial, and wait for the place to be attacked.

  I still didn't know what to make of Brax's theories. Dante was resistant to them, and I didn't want to bring them up again. As for Bastian's part in it—well, he was definitely a bit crazy, but was he the right kind of crazy to try to create a world-ending demonic Frankenstein's monster?

  I doubted it. He'd always talked about how much he liked living here between worlds, surrounded by humans, experimenting on how best to meld their natural abilities with those of demons and other n
onhuman beings. He wasn't really an apocalypse type of guy.

  Maybe if he'd misread something or misunderstood an old recipe. But I'd looked through his library before. There was nothing in it like what Brax had shown us. I didn't believe he could hide something of that magnitude.

  But, then, why blood from the heart-vein? Why wouldn’t any blood or skin cells do? Why was he so specific? Just because it was easy to collect? It did seem like a hell of a coincidence.

  Of course, there was another possibility at play. Bastian had always loomed so large in my life: my creator, sire, alpha, and omega. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, he surrounded my life, and his desires and plans permeated every decision I made. But he wasn't that powerful. In the grand scheme of things, he was just one of many magical beings who pulled strings beyond strings that I couldn't even imagine.

  Was it possible, after all this time, that Bastian was really in someone else's pocket? Without even realizing it himself?

  Could Bastian just be a pawn in a much bigger game?

  It was a troubling thought, one that wouldn't leave me alone as I dressed and curled my hair for the night's . . . festivities. I already knew exactly how to dress and act if I wanted to get Bastian's attention and keep it. It was just a matter of guarding my mind from the exploit Dante had used because if Bastian could read my thoughts as easily as Dante did, well, we were all doomed.

  And if he was being played by someone much more powerful . . . I had to focus on getting this done, one step at a time.

  Get the vial back. Give it to Dante. Get my sisters to safety.

  If you still could. Gods I hoped Bastian hadn’t already used it. I couldn’t face the consequences that would bring on my sisters and me or the rest of the world.

  I didn't want to believe Dante would hurt them. I was almost certain he wouldn't. He had a right to be pissed off, to ask this of me.

  The rumble of engines outside my window alerted me that Dante and his boys were ready for action. I wasn't sure how he planned on approaching the compound without letting the guards know what was up, but I'd left that part of the planning to him. It was a show of trust I was now beginning to regret.

  My hooker heels weren't exactly made for hiking.

  I walked out onto the driveway, just as dusk fell. Dante straddled his bike, the engine idling. His eyes penetrated mine even before he lifted the face shield of his helmet.

  Did he even need a damn helmet? What's the worst that could happen to a creature like him in an accident?

  Blaze wolf-whistled, but Dante cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Can you ride in that?" He made a vague gesture at my dress.

  I hiked up the skirt, letting the high slit do its job and free enough of my legs to straddle the bike and wrap my arms around Dante's muscular bulk.

  I could feel everyone's eyes on me, but I was too focused and amped on tonight's plan to worry about it.

  We'd gone over the details so many times, but my mind still raced with anxiety. And I couldn't stop thinking about what Brax told us. What if he was right? What if we were walking into something bigger than all of us, something we weren't equipped to handle? Shit, none of us were the real-life heroes.

  I wasn't sure what Dante had up his sleeve. His psychic resistance against my mental invasion was impressive. Maybe he still hid some of his powers or didn't fully understand them himself. Much as I hated to admit it, I was grateful to him for teaching me about my own weaknesses. I would be much more careful with Bastian.

  Before I knew it, the bikes growled to a stop. We weren't too far from Bastian's mansion, close enough that I frowned with concern at the possibility of us being heard. I hopped off the bike before he had a chance to kill the engine, straightening my dress as I waited for the rest of the pack to disembark.

  "I guess you're not worried about being heard?" I asked.

  "I whipped up a little spell for that," Brax piped up, pulling off his helmet. "None of his people are gonna hear a damn thing we don't want 'em to."

  "Great," I said. "So . . ."

  Dante rested his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me with a thousand emotions swirling in his eyes. It caught me off guard, and I swallowed thickly.

  I was overtaken with the urge to kiss him.

  "Are you ready?" he asked me softly.

  I nodded. "Just like we talked about. Give me twenty minutes, and you'll have your run of the place."

  Dante nodded shortly, glanced over his shoulder, then back at me. He lowered his voice even more. "Ivy . . ."

  I blinked.

  "I know what you have to do," he said, his voice gravelly and low. "But . . ."

  I raised my eyebrows slightly. "Yeah?"

  "Don't feel like . . . don't let him . . ." He sighed, shaking his head with frustration. "Don't let him take advantage of you, okay? Don't feel like you have to overdo it; don't compromise your integrity. I know how much influence you can have with just a kiss. There's no need . . ."

  I laughed in spite of myself. "Are you telling me not to go too far? Dante, I'm going to do whatever I need to do. The time for moderation passed a while ago. Right about when you kidnapped my sisters."

  A shadow passed over his expression. For a second, it looked like he was going to keep talking, but then he released me.

  I stepped back, then away. He turned to his men, and I began my walk.

  In order for our plan to work, I had to reach the house alone. This wouldn't arouse anyone's suspicion, even with me on foot and dressed like a high-class call girl. After all, this was Bastian's place, and tonight I was just another one of his girls.

  My heartbeat quickened as I approached the house. There were twice as many guards posted around the entrance, and I suddenly wished I had a way to communicate with Dante. To warn him. But it didn't matter, of course. This part was on me.

  I smiled at them as I swayed forward, focusing my energies on sending little tendrils of persuasion in their direction. At first, there was no reaction. Then I noticed one of them slump his shoulders slightly. Another's nostrils flared, as if he smelled something unexpected and delicious.

  I've still got it.

  I had to conserve the majority of my energy for Bastian, of course. But I was so much stronger since practicing with Dante. I had a greater control over my power, more like an invisible muscle, another limb I could pilot with finesse.

  The guards nodded and murmured their greetings. I smiled, gliding past them and into the foyer.

  The house was eerily empty. I knew it wouldn't be for long. If Bastian hadn't already sensed my presence, he would in a moment. I tried to keep thoughts of seduction and arousal at the forefront of my mind, just in case he could read more than I gave him credit for.

  A moment later, I heard footsteps coming from one of the side hallways. But it wasn't Bastian's steady gait. It was smaller, more clipped. Marla.

  She appeared as if by magic. "Oh." Stopping, head cocked slightly to the side, she regarded me like I was a display at the zoo. I'd never known that kind of emotion coming from her, and it briefly threw me off my guard. Was it . . . jealousy? But, surely, she knew this was coming.

  I smiled at her, considering whether to waste any of my energies on her. There shouldn't be any need because there was absolutely no reason for her to interfere. But I had such a strange sense of . . . darkness, like she hid something.

  But I didn't have any time to waste on this.

  "I'm here to see Bastian," I told her. "You know. To fulfill our agreement."

  "Of course," she said lightly, quickly regaining her poise. "Wait here. I'll go and fetch him."

  "No need," came an all-too-familiar voice from the top of the grand spiral staircase.

  Bastian took his time, hand gliding along the banister, but his eyes never left mine. I took a deep breath, sending my glamour out into the space between us, reaching for him, like one might caress a lover's cheek across a restaurant table.

  "I'm so glad you're here," he purred as he drew closer
to me. "But I thought I'd have a bit more warning."

  "You don't like surprises?" I asked him, in the softest, sexiest, faux-innocent tone I could manage. He exhaled sharply. It was working.

  "When they're as beautiful as you?" Bastian reached out and tugged lightly on one of the curled tendrils of hair framing my face. "I certainly won't complain."

  "Good. That would certainly put a damper on things." I leaned my head toward the adjoining sitting room. "Can we have a drink, sir?"

  "Oh. I do love it when you call me that." He grinned, tilting his arm toward me. I tucked my hand into the handle he provided and let him lead me. "Yes, let's have that drink. We've got all night, haven't we?"

  "I certainly don't have any plans," I laughed lightly.

  If he noticed my behavior was a little off, it certainly wasn't affecting his attitude toward me. Dante had been right. I had the upper hand here, thanks to his desire for me blinding his common sense.

  Oh, and my succubus powers. Those were always useful.

  I exerted my influence, slowly and carefully. I didn't want to put him on guard. So far, he was only receptive. There was no hint of resistance, not like with Dante. This might be easier than I imagined.

  In the sitting room, Bastian snapped his fingers, bringing a blue-flamed fire to life in the fireplace across from the overstuffed red leather armchairs. Then he went to the liquor cart and gestured toward it, like he was presenting the prizes in a game show.

  "What's your poison, doll?"

  My smile froze. God, but I hated it when he called me that. It reminded me too much of what I was. Of what we were. I was just a puppet on a string.

  Focus.

  "I'll have whatever you're having," I purred.

  He laughed, dark and indulgent. "Good girl. What's gotten into you tonight? So amenable."

  Shit. Even if it was just an idle question, it betrayed that I wasn't acting like myself. Bastian wasn't stupid. I had to stop laying it on so thick.