Gravestones & Wicked Bones (Shadow Creatures Book 1)

by D. D. Miers

  "You got it!" Brax said cheerfully. "Just hang tight for a second; it's only awkward if we make eye contact while we're holding hands." He nodded silently for a few seconds, and then pulled his hand away. "He's not lying. He didn't know anything about this until just now."

  "So?" Bastian's eyes roved the room. "Dante, I assume you have some cohorts to recruit into this. I'll bring in all the allies I can trust. Brax can probably help with double-checking that. We need to determine where she went and stop this ritual before it starts."

  I cleared my throat. Every head in the room turned to look at me.

  "And what if we're too late?" I asked.

  Bastian sighed. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

  Dante shook his head. "Hold up. I haven't agreed to anything. There is no 'we.'"

  "This is no time for petty rivalries," Bastian replied firmly. "We stop this, or we die trying. There are simply no other options. I'm not going to sit and wait for the Apocalypse to come. Besides, I think it's pretty clear Ivy has already made her choice."

  There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and a totally unexpected wave of guilt hit me. I scrambled to my feet. I wasn’t going to deny it, Bastian was right. I had chosen—and it wasn’t him, but he also still had a power over me. One I couldn’t deny. We had to come to some new arrangement. I was about to speak, but Bastian held up a hand to silence me.

  He glanced at Dante and Brax "Could both of you give me a moment with her?" I looked up to Dante and nodded, trying to say everything I hadn’t in one look. I didn’t want Bastian, I wanted him. Dante. Even after all of this.

  "Come on," Dante grunted, going for the door. "Let's go take care of some unfinished business."

  Chapter 19

  Ivy

  My head was still spinning with exhaustion. I couldn't process everything I'd learned in the past half hour, and the new, tentative alliance between the two men in my life was just as baffling as it was necessary.

  Bastian advanced, and at first, I cringed. I knew what I deserved. Even if Dante had forced my hand, I chose to use the powers Bastian had given me against him.

  But Bastian looked tired. As tired as I was.

  "I'm not angry, pet," he said, sighing. "As much as I wish I could be. But I saw what you can do. More importantly, I saw what you can do when you join forces with him. I'd be foolish to ignore that. Foolish, even for me."

  I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "You're . . . you're not an idiot. I mean, I guess Marla knows better than me, but—"

  He laughed. "I can be, at times."

  "I know what you wanted," I told him, meeting his gaze with honesty for the first time in my life. Shit, it was weird to acknowledge the elephant in the room. "I know you wanted to really own me, every part of me. I'm sorry I couldn't give you all of me."

  "Don't apologize," he said softly. "It was stupid of me to believe you'd fall in love with your creator. I gave you a gift, but it was also a curse. I just hoped you'd come to overlook it. But it was idiotic of me to ever vie for your heart. I've always been more in love with my work than I could ever be with another soul, no matter how beautiful. I can't control who you love. If you ever change your mind, then so be it. But I can't force you. And I wouldn't, even if I could."

  Strangely, I believed him. I sensed he was being completely genuine—maybe for the first time in his life.

  "I still feel bad," I admitted. "I mean . . . if you want to trade in the. . . date I owed you for something else?”

  He cut me off, laughing. "No trades necessary. If you want me, you can have me. The offer stands, no matter what. But not because you feel obligated. Give me some credit, doll."

  I didn't know what to say. I guess I never had with him. But today, of all days, I was grateful for his kindness. Even if it was conditional, even if he was only working his own agenda, like he was apt to do. At least he cared.

  "Thank you," I told him. And I meant it.

  * * *

  I was running. But for once in my life, I wasn't running from something, but after someone. I’d lived all my life building up walls and pushing people away. The only space I’d ever had left in my heart was for my sister’s. But now. . . now Dante had changed all that.

  When I got out to the steps, fat drops of rain splattered on my heated skin. I kept running, praying my bare feet wouldn't slip on the wet stone.

  Dante and Brax were still in the gravel driveway, heads close together, talking quietly but animatedly. They both looked up, startled, when I approached.

  "I thought . . ." Dante started.

  "It was a quick conversation," I said before he could continue. "I want to help him, Dante. Are you coming with us?"

  He hesitated. "They took my blood," he said at last, gruffly. "Forget 'em. I'm taking it back."

  I grinned. I couldn't help myself.

  The three of us trekked to the motorcycles. I guessed Dante had already dismissed the rest of his men, but I only concentrated on his proximity, the heady memory of what it had been like when our fingers had laced together. It was like the most potent drug in the world. Together, we were a thousand times more powerful than we could ever be alone.

  I didn't know what we were going to face when we tracked down Marla and this Samil Bastian seemed to know a little too well. But whatever it was, I was excited. Strangely thrilled. Because, between the two of us, I knew we could accomplish the unbelievable.

  When we reached the clearing with the bikes, Brax coughed nonchalantly. "I'll, uh, I'll go get the girls," he said. "Take them home. If that's all right with y'all."

  Dante jerked his head "Thanks," he said. "Appreciate it."

  I knew I should go with Brax, see my sisters safely home. But I couldn't leave Dante's side.

  Once Brax's bike peeled away, I turned to the hulk of a man who stood there silent by my side. "So, I . . ."

  He didn't give me a chance to finish before he kissed me like I already belonged to him, body and soul. He kissed me like we’d already been lovers.

  In a way, I supposed we were.

  The connection we shared was more intimate than sex. We'd peered into the dark corners of each other's souls and found something there to love. That darkness that scared others only pulled us together, united us.

  We kissed like two people the cosmos had destined to be together. We kissed like every star-crossed couple from every story ever told since the beginning of time.

  But most importantly, we kissed like Ivy and Dante.

  We were just us.

  Which was all we needed to be.

  Our hands fumbled with each other's clothes, Dante's fingers grasping desperately at my breasts, palming and caressing them roughly through the delicate silk of my dress. I moaned into his mouth, biting gently at his lip.

  With a groan, he grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up onto the seat of his bike. I spread my thighs as he pushed the material of my dress out of the way to roughly cup me through my panties. He growled softly as the heat of my arousal met his questing fingers.

  "Who else has been here tonight?" he panted into my ear as I nuzzled his neck.

  "No one," I gasped. "Only you."

  "And why is that, gorgeous?"

  "Because it's yours."

  It was like a script we'd rehearsed a thousand times. Both of us knew our parts so naturally, like we were meant to be.

  Ripping the delicate material aside, he situated himself between my aching thighs. "Yes?" he whispered into my mouth.

  "Yes," I breathed.

  And then, we were one.

  Time stopped while we drank each other in, my fingers raking down his back, my cries swallowed in the heat of his mouth. When I reached my peak, my whole body shook and arched with pleasure. He soon followed.

  In the silence afterward, punctuated only by our ragged breathing, I heard the soft chirping in the woods around us. The warm night air caressed us, like nature itself knew what we were supposed to be.

  Together.

  Alwa
ys.

  Two fucked up individuals made into one perfect fucking couple—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Epilogue

  Ivy

  "Are you sure about this?" Brax asked yet again.

  "I've never been less sure about anything in my life," Lila said, her mouth a thin line. "But it doesn't sound like we have much of a choice."

  Bastian appeared around the corner of the yard, two of his guards following with an arsenal in tow. "Lila, I told you. The intel is good. But if you want to stay and hold down the fort."

  She shook her head firmly. "No. If Violet goes, I go. I'm not letting her risk her life without me there."

  I had never seen this side of her before, this momma-bear mentality. I supposed I liked it, strange as it was.

  The past few days had gone by in a whirlwind of preparation, training, and tearful explanations and goodbyes. Bastian had honored our agreement and released Jade and Violet from the blood bond. But what happened next, had been a total shock: Bastian offered me an out. A real, legitimate out.

  No longer would I be bound to servitude or tied to his magical will. But seeing as he couldn’t lose his entire ‘team,’ he Instead offered another arrangement. One that allowed me the freedom I desired. It only cost me five years of favors and not of the sexual kind. Dante made certain of that. In exchange, he’d teach me how to harness my powers and master them.

  Now, for the first time in our lives, my sisters and I were splitting up.

  To say I was uneasy about the prospect would be an understatement, but I knew that the alternative to sitting back and letting things ‘work themselves out’ wasn’t a real option.

  Dante and I were headed South, following a lead we had on a Samil, where Violet, Brax and Lila and Bastian headed East after Marla. Jade stayed behind, with a great deal of protest, under the protection of some of Bastian's most trustworthy guards and Dante’s men, Blaze and Kylo.

  We had assembled a core team, and then a convoy around us, like we were going to war.

  In a way, we were.

  I reached out and grasped Dante's hand. He didn't look at me, but he didn't have to. I knew he smiled when his fingers laced with mine.

  "Right, then," Brax said, shoving one more pile of books into the backseat of a dark-tinted van. "Let's all get to work, shall we?"

  The end . . . for now.

  Cursed Moons & Ancient Runes

  Shadow Creatures Book Two - Coming 2019!

  Keep Reading for the first chapter of Curse of Iron, the Halfblood Huntress Chronicles, book 1!

  The Legend

  "Tiocfaidh an leathling chun críche do réimeas, ag caitheamh draíocht Gaia ó lámh seanóirí wicca, agus coróin na Fae a athnuachan"

  “The halfling will come to end your reign, tearing Gaia’s magic from the hands of the elders of wicca, and restoring the crown of the Fae…”

  The child was born on the tenth day of the tenth month, one hundred years after Morgana cursed her own kind to dwindle in power until the great coven was no more. Her mother was a high priestess of Gaia, her father the heir apparent to the throne of the Seelie Fae, the light court of Fairy.

  But the priestess could not survive the hate and fear, and somehow, the strong, vibrant witch died during childbirth. The Fae king was fading, his son poised to take the throne. His grief knew no release, but he had too many hidden enemies to allow them to know his daughter. He left her with the witches—to keep her safe from harm—and left fairies among the humans to keep watch over her until the time came when she would be strong enough to join him, or his throne was secure.

  Chapter 1

  The first thing I noticed when I jerked awake was my mouth tasted like sawdust and beer.

  The second was the weight of another body beside me.

  I must have drank more than I thought.

  I didn’t remember bringing a guy home and considering how long it had been I could’ve used the recollection of a good time. I swallowed trying to work up some moisture into my mouth, and inched closer to the edge of the bed, and reached for the light.

  The form next to me was cool when my toes brushed against him and too still, making my heart pound excitedly. I turned on the bedside lamp and eased out of bed to look down at the naked man I’d woken up next to, his eyes wide and staring, already clouded by death.

  It took a second to register his face, already twisted into his death mask.

  Gideon Masters.

  Gideon Masters, the baddest Alpha on this side of the continent is in my bed—and he’s fucking dead. What in the fresh fuck is happening? Is this a nightmare?

  I slammed my fist into the wall, sucking in air at the bruising pain in my knuckles. I backed away from the bed, revulsion twisting my stomach. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, my brain played the words on repeat like one of the old vinyl records my boss liked to play in the office. Gideon’s lifeless eyes continued to stare at the ceiling, ensuring no matter what else, I wouldn’t sleep there restfully, ever again.

  He was naked from the waist up, revealing dark chest hair and fine cut abs. The blankets were pulled back enough to make my stomach lurch again at the realization he was definitely not wearing anything underneath, either. His skin had already begun to look waxy, even in the half light of the reading lamp, and my hand searched automatically for the wall switch before I stopped myself.

  “You don’t need a better look, stupid,” I glanced at the window-shade, drawn, no sign it had been opened. “How the hell did you get in here?” I glanced around, looking for some clue to jog my memory, or explain how I’d woken up in a nightmare worse than any I’d had while sleeping. I tugged my long tee down over my legs, grateful I hadn’t been nude next to him, cuddled skin to skin with death.

  “Okay, stop freaking out and call someone,” I glanced around for my phone. The charging stand next to the bed was empty, and my bag was nowhere in sight.

  I backed toward the door, pushing the disgust and fear back, examining the bedroom as best I could. There was no blood on the bed and no sign of a struggle of any kind. Maybe he had a bad heart…or was sick…or was poisoned by Aunt Portia and left here as a warning.

  I shuddered at the thought as my fingers found the doorknob behind me and I slipped out of the bedroom. With the horror hidden safely behind my door, I glanced around the living area of my apartment. If the body in my bed hadn’t put itself there, I might not be alone. I dropped into a crouch behind the armchair and moved in a crab-like walk, visually clearing the living room, dining room, and kitchen, before I jumped up and raced to the denim satchel I used as a purse.

  Grabbing my phone out of the bag, I ducked behind the island and started to dial, my eyes constantly glancing between the closed guest bathroom and the hallway which led to the two bedrooms. Orson, pick up, pick up, pick up, I begged silently as I listened to the trilling ring on the other end.

  “What the hell, girl?” Orson growled from the speaker, but I didn’t have a chance to answer him.

  “Police! Open up!” The shout came from the hall. A moment later, my door crashed open, and I screamed, dropping my phone.

  “Show your hands!” In seconds I was on my face against the cool wooden floor, my arms wrenched painfully behind my back as cops swarmed my apartment. I froze as a paralyzing spell landed on me.

  “Watch out, she’s a hexer,” one barked, and they all backed away from me. Lying flat with my cheek pressed into the floor, I stared at the dust bunnies under my couch, the voices around me strangely muffled from my vantage point.

  The witch-detective who had paralyzed me kneeled at my side, checking I was incapacitated before she gave the others permission to yank me to my feet. If they’d bothered to ask, I would’ve told them I was happy to comply, but they probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway.

  As her lips moved, my mind cleared enough to realize my rights were being read to me. I nodded my understanding because the spell wouldn’t let me speak. It wasn’t quite constitutional, but I w
orked with law enforcement every day. I knew how much harder the job had been for the last century, as magical beings stopped hiding in the shadows and entered mainstream society.

  Two more cops appeared from my bedroom, calling the detective back with them, and my body finally rebelled, the knowledge of what I knew resided there, forcing bile into my still sealed mouth. I gagged on the vomit, choking, until the cop holding me upright yelled for the detective and she ran in, casting as soon as she saw what was happening.

  They bent me over and she turned my head to one side as I spit and dragged a deep breath down my stomach acid scorched throat into my burning lungs. I managed to whisper, “Thank you,” leaning into her as if she wasn’t the person about to end my life as I knew it, my legs weak and trembling. The police held almost all my body weight. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” I added, but silenced myself before she could decide to renew the spell.

  “You’re okay,” she murmured, not quite sympathetic, but without accusation. “Just breathe.” She tipped my chin up so I was forced to meet her eyes. They were the color of chocolate, and it made me think of how good chocolate would feel on my stinging throat. “You must be powerful, to take down someone so big.”

  I shook my head. “Not really. Besides, do you see any vines climbing my walls? My magic is growing things. New life, not death.” The absence of magic had been one of the first things I’d noticed when the initial shock was over. “How did he die?”

  The other officer jerked my arm hard enough to make my shoulder pop. “Like you don’t know,” he snarled and I dropped my eyes, holding my body still so he wouldn’t yank on me again.

  “Enough, Jones. You start knocking on doors. Sam and I will secure her in our vehicle.”