Contents
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
Other books by Debbie Cassidy
About the Author
Copyright © 2019, Debbie Cassidy
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover by Carol Marques
One
THEN
“Indie! Indie! Indie!” The crowd was going wild.
Blood, sweat, and more blood speckled the sawdust. Probably a few teeth too. Not mine, though, because that was the sound of my name they were screaming.
Mine.
This fight was mine.
The moonkissed, hairy bastard glared at me through his remaining eye. I’d gouged out the other one. No biggie. It would grow back. And now he bared his fangs and charged.
I held my ground, boots planted firmly in the dust. One. Two. Three. I leapt, scaling his frame easily to land behind him. He hit the barbed fence, howled, and spun to face me just in time to receive an epic uppercut.
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went down.
“Whooo!”
The pit was filled with a deafening roar. Time to take my signature curtsy—pouted lips and fluttering lashes.
The crowd whooped in appreciation of the petite nightblood with the delicate features who kicked ass like a prime-alpha. Not that any prime-alphas had been seen or heard of for a long while. Still, their fighting prowess was legendary.
And so was mine.
Leaving the moonkissed unconscious in the dust, I strode out of the pit.
Ned greeted me at the gates. “You did good, kid.” He hopped from foot to foot.
He was a good-looking creature with a golden mop of hair he liked to hide beneath a stylish flat cap. His leprechaun blood made him small in stature, but the ladies who’d been invited into his bedroom loved to discuss how he made up for any shortcomings in height with impressive expansions in other areas of his anatomy.
And me? He’d shoved me straight in the off-limits zone when he’d started calling me kid. Maybe I just wasn’t the horny fey-blood’s type.
Shame.
“And look at ya.” He raked me up and down. “Not even a scratch on ya.”
I grinned down at him. “I healed faster than he could injure, is all. And look, the crowd’s nice and warmed up for you.”
“You ever going to let me pay ya?” He canted his head, one eye closed in a wince-wink.
It was his come-on-give-in-to-me look, but it didn’t work on me.
I tapped the lip of his cap. “Letting me in that pit is payment enough.”
Besides, if I took his money, I’d never burn through daddy’s little trust fund. No matter how much I spent, it kept getting topped up. I’d tried cutting myself off, going dark, and living off the tips I made working at Ned’s bar, but my father always found me.
Power gave Baron Justice eyes and ears everywhere. Well, let him hear about this—his only child hanging with the dregs of supernatural society. A high-born nightblood slumming it with the rabble in an area of London we liked to call Dark Market, a large area filled with supernatural dives mostly tucked away from human eyes.
Ha. Take that, Daddy Dearest.
I turned my head and spat out the blood gathering in my mouth. It was all very well when the blood was someone else’s but not so yummy when it was my own.
Ned’s dark eyes gleamed. “Got a pressie for you in your cubicle.” He winked. “Hope you like it.”
My stomach grumbled. “You, my man, are a legend.”
I wove through the crowd, the cheer of the pit rising behind me as a new fight began. Body odors mingled, sweet and sour, heartbeats competed in tempo, and I allowed my senses to open and enjoy the cocktail of smells and sounds pressing in on me. They grounded me. The regulars knew better than to accost me after a fight. Trying to hit pause on a hungry nightblood was asking to be bitten.
Hard.
Our world was a lie, an illusion. The fanged and the hairy, the feyblood, and all types of scary hid in the shadows. We allowed the universal glamour that existed on the mortal plane to mute the effect of our unhuman irises and smooth out our fangs. We allowed it to hide our horns and scales so we could look human to the human eye. The Nightwatch claimed we were protecting the humans, but the truth was we were protecting ourselves.
It was all about saving our own asses, because if the humans wanted, they could kill the fuck out of us. Okay, not the most eloquent way to put it. But still. It was the truth. We had magic—weavers who could manipulate threads of arcana in the air, and make shit happen. But if it ever came to an us and them, the humans had the weapons, the science, and the numbers to bring us down.
So, we played by the rules. We scuttled and hid during the day. Blended in where possible. But the night … The night was ours, and places like Ned’s Pit were dens of inequity where the supernaturals got to let their hair down and play. Didn’t mean the odd human didn’t sneak in. They were drawn to places like that, explaining away what they saw, blaming it on drugs and booze and fetishes. In a place like that, I didn’t need to use suggestion to get what I wanted. It was handed to me.
Blood.
My gums ached, my stomach rumbled, and then my cubicle came into view. The top of a tousled dark head peeked over the back of the seat. I inhaled, tasting him with my senses.
Male, young, probably early twenties.
Nice.
And then a hand wrapped itself around my bicep. “Indigo Justice, we need to talk.”
I looked slowly from the pale fingers gripping my olive skin up to the death-wish dude’s face, my expression flat. This was his cue to let go, but the douche seemed to be insensitive to the nuances of the very simple situation.
I guess I’d have to spell it out for him. “If you plan on keeping that hand, I suggest you remove it from my arm.”
He sighed and released me. “Miss Justice, I’ve been sent to retrieve you.”
I blinked at him in surprise. It had been almost six months since my father had tried this shit. I’d sent his men back bloody and bruised, and he’d left me alone ever since. I guess my grace period was up.
I puffed out my cheeks, not in the mood for another fight, especially not on an empty stomach. “Listen …”
�
�Earl.”
“Yeah, listen, Earl. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He smiled, showcasing his lethal fangs. “I don’t wish to hurt you either.”
“Oh, goody. Then we have an understanding. You can tell my father you tried to bring me back. Say I kicked you in the head and knocked you out. He’ll understand.”
Earl locked gazes with me. “You won’t leave here without a fight, will you?”
I clenched my jaw, biting back my irritation. “I won’t be leaving, period.”
He had one minute, and then I’d forget how hungry I was and stomp on his face. One minute to make the smart choice and fuck off.
He nodded. “Very well. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He took a step back, turned, and melted into the crowd.
I guess my reputation had preceded me. My gut twinged in a warning my stomach wouldn’t let me focus on. Food first, mental shit later. My snack awaited, and he was peering over the top of the seat, his warm brown eyes searching the crowd for me. I raised a hand as I approached. He shuffled along the seat to allow me to join him.
Slender, wiry, wide-eyed. Mmmm. “Hi, my name’s Indigo.”
His throat bobbed. “I know who you are.” His smile was shaky, nervous. “I’ve never been … bitten before.”
Ooh, a bite virgin. Ned, you dark horse. I stroked his arm. “Oh, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise this won’t hurt. In fact, you’re going to love it.”
He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then tipped his head to the side to expose his throat. His pulse beat fast, which meant the blood would flow faster. This would be a real hit to my system.
I sidled up to him, my body brushing his. God, he smelled good. Fresh like cotton and summer nights. My fangs elongated, sliding out from my gums with a snick, and then my mouth was sucking on his flesh, creating a seal. Perfect. He tensed, anticipating the penetration.
I stroked his chest to soothe him. There, there, pet. And then I sank my teeth into him. Sweet, coppery flavor rushed into my mouth. Yes. God, yes, I needed that. Still warm from the vein, it flowed down my throat and hit my stomach. I hadn’t realized how famished I was until that moment, until human blood was in my mouth. My gulps were too loud as I devoured my meal.
I needed to stop in a moment, but the hunger, which should have eased, flared hot and potent in my belly, and a red haze entered my mind. My taste buds registered the slight bitter undertone to the blood flooding my mouth and panic flared in my chest.
Something was wrong. The blood was tainted. This wasn’t right. But I couldn’t stop.
Fight, dammit. Fight and—
My primal brain took over, and then there was nothing but crimson glory.
* * *
The cuffs on my wrist reflected my angry face. I’d been cocky, distracted. Hungry. I should have known when Earl backed off so easily that something was wrong. I should have stopped and listened to my gut.
Too late now.
The room was small. Six by six, with a bolted-down table and two Formica chairs—one either side.
Idiots, a chair was probably a better weapon than a table. Should have bolted that down too, not that it would do me any good, not while the cuffs were cutting into my flesh. I knew what these were—electrocharged restraints used on prisoners.
Prisoner.
Me.
Murderer.
Me.
My stomach rolled with nausea. I’d killed the human. I’d drained him, and now the powers that be had me. Locked in a pretty cell with a fake mirror while they decided what my fate should be.
This was all him, and this was his power.
Fuck this shit. I was done waiting. I stood and approached the two-way mirror. “I know you’re there, Dad. Stop fucking about, and let’s get this over with.”
Less than a minute passed before the door opened and my father strode in. Dressed to impress as usual—some tailored shit for a suit, hair slicked back, slate gray eyes flat and unemotional as he stared down at me.
“You killed a human, Indigo. That’s a crime punishable by death or lifetime incarceration.”
“You put something in his blood. You drugged him. You did this.”
He sighed. “Interesting accusations. You believe your loss of control was due to a substance in your victim’s blood?” He tapped his chin, mouth turning down slightly. “It is a possibility, but unfortunately, since the human body has been incinerated, pursuant to Watch Code 301, there is no way to test your theory.”
My insides tightened in panic. There was no doubt in my mind that my father was responsible for my being here. Earl had planted that mark. He’d offered me the chance to leave with him, and I’d turned him down. The human had been their plan B.
Arguing with him was pointless, though. He had me here, where he wanted me. Question was, why? “What do you want?”
“I want to save my only child.”
My throat pinched. Damn, why did my fucking heart pulse harder at those words? Why the hell did I still want to believe him?
I grit my teeth. “Since when have you given a damn about me? You care about your reputation and your name. You’ve got no need for a daughter. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.”
He stood tall, looking down his nose at me. “Regardless, you are a Justice. And you belong with us. I’ve spoken to the council, and they’ve agreed to a deal. They’ll waive a trial and sentencing in lieu of you pledging yourself to the Nightwatch.”
My ears buzzed with the implication of his words. “You want me to … to join the fucking Watch?”
“I want you to enroll at the Academy. I want you to graduate. That is the deal. If you accept it, you’ll enter the Academy tomorrow. You will, however, be cuffed during your training and will not be able to leave the grounds. If you attempt to circumvent this, then the deal will be dissolved. In the event this occurs, you’ll be brought straight to the council for sentencing. Do you understand?”
“Why are you doing this? You never wanted me. You never wanted a daughter. I left so we could both be free, so why the fuck can’t you just let me go?”
His expression was unreadable, distant, as usual. “There is no escape from heritage, Indigo. You were born a Justice, and you will die a Justice, and it’s my job as your parent to make sure your life and death honor that name.”
I could call his bluff. Tell him to stick his deal and take my chances with the trial, but hell, there was no upside to that. They’d probably execute me as an example. My father had played a dangerous game to get me here, one that probably involved greasing palms and making promises, and if I went against him now, I’d be throwing myself to the mercy of the members of the council that hated him. Hated the Justices. Because despite being the crème de la crème of society, we were also the most despised.
A hollow pit yawned inside me.
After all this time.
After all the running.
He had me. He had me where he wanted me.
I exhaled heavily and met his eyes. “When do I leave?”
Two
The human was staring at me, head tipped to the side to expose a savaged throat, mouth open and filled with blood.
“I’ve never been bitten before.” He gurgled. “Will it hurt?”
My hands tamped down over the wound. “Sorry, so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I couldn’t stop. Just couldn’t stop.” Tears stung my eyes and kissed my cheeks. “Please, please, don’t die.”
“Too late, Indigo.” My father’s voice poured out of the human’s mouth. “You did it again. You disappointed us all. You always disappoint. And you wonder why I can’t love you.”
Always disappoint. Never loved. Never …
“Wake up, Indie.”
A hand landed on my shoulder and had the audacity to give it a shake.
Fuck off was the desired response, but the word that came out was harrumph.
“Indie, come on. You promised you wouldn’t miss today.”
&nbs
p; Today? Oh, yeah, the team exercise, as in there is no I in team, as in I didn’t give a shit. But the exam was the last lesson of the evening, and my bio clock told me the sun had only just set.
Still, Minnie’s shadow loomed over me, and the heat of her gorgon glare burned holes in the back of my head.
“The whole day, Indie. You promised to do a whole day,” she reminded me with that stern edge to her tone, which told me that ten-inch-thick steel would break before she would.
Me and my big mouth. Maybe if I faked sickness, she’d piss off and leave me be. Going to shitty classes was the last thing I wanted to do tonight.
I coughed and made a gagging sound.
“Nah-uh,” she said. “The whole frickin’ day and the exam. You skip the test, and we all get a fail. And you don’t want me to fail, do you?”
Urgh. Emotional blackmail, which coming from anyone else I’d be immune to. I rolled onto my back and stared at the pixie-cute woman looking down at me. Her crimson bob grazed her delicate jaw as she leaned over me, and her wide jade eyes were hard with determination.
Over the last two months, I’d learned three things about Minnie Faraday. First, she wasn’t a stuck-up arsehole like the rest of the Faraday family. Second, she had a soft spot for kittens, and anything small and furry, and third—the most important—she did not take no for an answer.
Trust me, I’d tried to keep her at a distance. I mean, sharing a room with her didn’t mean we had to be friends. I didn’t need or want any friends here. But Minnie had decided that’s exactly what we were going to be, and she’d pursued me unrelentingly until she’d worn me down.
Shadow Caster: The Nightwatch Academy book 1 Page 1
