Betrayed by Blood
The shelton Legacy Series : 1
l.a. mcginnis
Copyright L.A. McGinnis 2021
All rights reserved
Editor: Chris Hall: The Editing Hall
Cover Design: Janus Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any means, without express permission from the author or publisher. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, including businesses, companies, events or locales is purely coincidental. This author acknowledges the trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-30-6
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-31-3
Published in the United States of America by Fools Journey Press, 2021
Website: www.lamcginnis.com
Contents
Epigraph
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Also by L.A. McGinnis
“Behind every great fortune
Lies a great crime.”
—Balzac
My knees throbbed while I crouched in the backseat of my rusty Civic, surveilling a crumbling house in a neighborhood even worse than mine. I jolted at a sudden bang, then relaxed again as I realize it was only a car backfiring.
Not gunshots.
A quick glance in the rearview showed my black hair curling madly from the humidity, dark shadows beneath my eyes, and the way my knees hurt, I’d better hit the gym at the first possible opportunity or I’d end up in a wheelchair.
“Oh, come on.” I grumbled to no one in particular. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
I eyed the lone french fry on the floor, debating if it was still good enough to eat. I’d only planned on being at this stakeout for an hour, but now it was the middle of the night, and my stomach grumbled.
Sure, I could be home with a glass of bourbon, but no.
I’m here, freezing my ass off in the back of my shitty car.
Part of the reason I’m here is because I’m a private investigator, licensed in the great state of Washington, residing in Seattle. I chose Seattle because it’s the farthest you can get from New York without jumping in the ocean, but that’s another story entirely.
Unfortunately for me, tonight’s stakeout has nothing to do with my PI business, and everything to do with my survival.
Checking the video feed for movement, my gaze strayed back to the french fry. It couldn’t be more than a week old, tops, and probably still good. Ignoring the hollow ache in my stomach, I tapped my phone to see if I had new instructions.
Of course not.
Knight didn’t care if I sat out here all night as long as he got results.
Results being the target stuffed into my trunk and delivered to Knight, the de-facto king of Seattle’s underworld.
Probably to be killed.
No, correction. Interrogated, then killed.
Not that I was happy with that potential outcome, but I figured people dug their own graves. Who was I to save them?
I’d been forced into doing this job, partly because I had the expertise and the surveillance gear, but mostly because Knight blackmailed me into it. That scary, soulless bastard had the uncanny ability to root out people’s deepest, darkest secrets.
Knight knew mine.
Hence, me doing a job I hated for a man I hated even more.
Still, a girl had to eat, and Knight had been generous with his terms. Once I nabbed my target, my five percent cut would pay my rent—and more—for a month.
Already mentally spending the money, the crunch of tires on gravel sent my head swiveling. Sure enough, a pair of headlights appeared on the video screen. Groaning, I unkinked my neck and flexed my stiff legs.
Finally. Let’s get this show on the road.
Now all I had to do was subdue Derek, throw him my trunk, hand him over to Knight, and collect my five thousand dollars. On the tiny screen, I watched two murky figures exit the vehicle and my stomach dropped to the floor.
This was bad, really bad.
Frowning, I zoomed in on the skinny one, his bony frame draped in a baggy hoodie and oversized cargo pants. Derek’s long hair looked even greasier than the last time I’d seen him, and even from here, his high, nasal whine carried on the wind as he gave instructions to his huge partner.
Derek the Douchebag Simmons always worked alone. Yet here he was, in tandem with an accomplice roughly the size of my car, which would definitely complicate matters. I checked my phone again for new instructions, but nothing. My car’s trunk was big enough for Derek, but no way the big one would fit. Still, it was too late to back out, so I engaged my body cam while I slid out into the night.
I was just performing a quick prelim check of my equipment when the loud squeal of metal on metal made my fillings ache.
Peeking over the hood of my car, I was just in time to watch giant-accomplice-dude rip the front door from its hinges and toss it off to the side like it was a piece of paper.
“Five thousand dollars, Miranda.” I reminded myself, stepping through the gaping opening.
I followed the sounds of breaking and entering all the way upstairs to a dark, shoddy bedroom that smelled like vomit. Derek was on his knees, tearing up a corner of the carpet while the giant tossed furniture into a growing pile in the corner.
“I never took you for a home improvement nut, Derek.”
I had to hand it to the Douchebag, his reaction time was impressive, outing his gun with a dexterity I didn’t expect. His face relaxed a little when he recognized me. “What the fuck, McHale? You scared the shit out of me. I could have shot you.”
“Sure, you could have,” I agreed, leaning a hip into the doorframe as the giant lumbered into a flanking position to my right, the floor bouncing with his every step. “But we both know you have shit aim, so I feel safe enough. Do you know what’s even better than not getting shot?” Derek shook his head like we were having an actual conversation.
“The feed going back to my office has you two on film plowing right through the front door and me following you in. Care to guess who’s watching all of this?” I tapped the lens of my body cam for emphasis.
“Knight
?” Derek guessed, and even in the darkness I watched him pale, his eyes shifting around the room, finally settling on the doorway I was currently blocking. “Why the fuck did you bring him into this, McHale? We could have settled this ourselves.”
“Yeah, so not happening.” To prove my point, I straightened, taking up the entire exit. The giant halted his approach, looking to Derek for guidance.
“The fact you’re depending on Derek does not bode well for your burgeoning life of crime, my friend,” I told him dryly, trying to get a glimpse of his face. Since that was a no-go, I concentrated on Derek, pointing that ridiculous gun at me.
His finger moved, brushing the trigger.
Half a thought and I had the bullets melting inside the clip, the grip glowing orange as Derek screamed, grabbed his burnt hand, and dropped the weapon to the floor.
“You bitch. I should have known you wouldn’t play fair.” His face turned ugly. “Good thing I planned ahead.”
A couple of things.
One, Derek is an idiot and never plans ahead.
Two, the giant mountain of a man had completely vanished.
It took me a second to realize he was gone, about the same amount of time it took him to grab me from behind and his hot breath to skim my nape. Fear coursing through me, I twisted away from that searing heat. That quick movement was the only thing that saved me, seconds before a stream of hotter-than-Hades flames sizzled past my cheek and hit the wall, ignited the peeling wallpaper. Completely immobilized by his huge arms, my body cam crunched into a shower of broken plastic and glass while I kicked back with my boot, the hard heel connecting to his shin with a crack.
The giant growled, low and feral, and drew in a breath. This time, he wouldn’t miss. I writhed against his strength, trying to worm my way out of his deadly embrace before he could recharge. Being burnt to cinders by a Hyperion was totally not on my agenda today, but panic exploded inside me as his chest expanded with air. A second, maybe, before I was completely engulfed with flames hotter than two thousand degrees.
My own breath faltered in my lungs.
I went limp in the giant’s hold as I realized this was it.
I was going to die in this shithole house at the hands of idiots.
One more thing of note. Sometimes my magic has a mind of its own, like when I’m threatened, and I don’t have a lot of control over it.
Unbidden, blue fire burst out of me in all directions, incinerating my jacket, vaporizing the expensive gear, and sending my fellow Hyperion up in flames. From the amount of screaming, I expected him to loosen his grip, yet here I was, still trapped in his tight embrace. The stench of charred flesh and acrid smoke filled the room as I wormed my way free and crashed to the ground, one leg buckling in the process. Derek, bless his heart, remained on his knees, a look of utter horror pasted on his face.
“Oops, that happens sometimes when I think I’m about to die.” I half-laughed, pushing smoking, tangled hair out of my face while I climbed to my feet. Barely a second later, the big guy plowed into me from behind, driving me back down to the floor. Flames licked my face, setting the edge of the carpet on fire, and then with a final wheezing grunt, he collapsed on top of me. Choking, I crawled out from underneath him.
“You… you killed him, Andy. With magic.”
“Thank you Captain Obvious.” I dusted ashes off my pants, tore the smoldering jacket—my favorite—off my body. “Don’t know what I’d do without your keen powers of observation.”
On the upside, my body cam was completely shattered, which meant this shitshow might yet escape Knight’s notice. He’d been watching everything up until now. As soon as the feed cut off, he’d head over here, but the lack of video evidence would buy me some time. On the downside, Derek was right. I’d just killed a Hyperion with unregistered magic, which in my world was never a good thing, even if it was an accident.
Actually, especially if it’s an accident.
Hyperions were humans with fire magic. Of all the Elementals, we were the biggest loose cannons, as our magic was sometimes capricious and unreliable. Also, if you weren’t registered with the government—hence, an Unreg—and were caught, you went immediately to the Devilton high-security prison where you spent the rest of your miserable life.
I refused to allow that to happen. Refused.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” I crouched down until Derek and I were eye to eye.
Derek perked up, hope sparking in his face.
“You’re going to give me a goddamned good reason for tearing this shitty house apart, aided by a fucking Hyperion, and then I’ll decide if I turn you over to Knight… or set you loose.”
The stench of burning meat filled the room, and one of my arms was scalded, but I barely noticed.
I was so screwed.
Elementals were ranked numerically by the government, according to their powers. Dead guy was probably a three, considering how long it took him to recharge. I, on the other hand, was higher. I didn’t know how much higher, but I’d been told I was a five, which was the top of the scale.
I nudged the smoking body with my foot. Now that my equipment was ruined, I couldn’t run a check on the dead guy, which meant I was relying on Derek to tell me. “Who was this, Derek?”
“That’s Frank.” His face turned weaselly. “A Hyperion, but you probably figured that out already. He’s unregistered, though.”
“You sure about that?” His expression turned sullen as he nodded, as if this whole thing was inconveniencing him, somehow. Unregistered Elementals were a rarity, being it was against the law.
And look, there were two in the room right now.
Me and the dead guy.
This was just great.
“By my estimate, Knight will arrive in less than half an hour.” There was nothing like fear to motivate the unwilling. “Since he’s the one who sent me here, he must be pretty eager to get his claws into you.”
Derek desperately licked his lips, clearly his creepy rendition of a snake. “C’mon, Andy….”
“Half an hour, Derek. Make it good or I’ll step aside and let Knight tear you apart.”
“Frank said he hid a memory drive here.” Derek indicated the corner where the carpet was pulled back. “But it’s gone. Someone must’ve got here before we did.”
I snorted. “That’s a lame excuse, even for you.” But why else come? With a price on his head, Derek would have been smart and lain low. “What’s on this mysterious drive?”
“I dunno. Something big, I think. Frank mentioned… Devilton.”
The prison’s name called up memories of big, bad things lurking in the dark, but I pushed them away and focused on Derek.
“Try harder. Money, drugs, sex—those I’d believe. You two are not high-end tech thieves.”
“Hand to God, Andy. Frank said he hid a disc under the carpet, said it contained some important stuff… names and things.” His gaze swiveled to the long hallway behind me, a look of longing crossing his face. “I thought… you know… that kind of information might be worth something to somebody.”
When his eyes shifted back to me, I saw the lie in them. “But we didn’t find anything, swear to Christ.”
“Is that so, Derek? You’ll forgive me for doubting you.”
True, the stained wood beneath the rolled back carpet was bare. But Derek and the truth were not so much friends as occasional acquaintances.
“Empty out your pockets.” The command was accompanied by my wide and toothy smile.
“Aw, come on. Pleeease. Aaandy.”
“Now, shithead, and don’t make me ask twice.”
The floor quickly became littered with change, crumpled receipts, broken cigarettes, and a dented butane lighter. “Keep it coming or I’ll start looking myself, and neither of us wants to go through that, do we?”
After a brief hesitation, Derek sighed. “That’s all of it, I swear to…”
I held up my hand, well aware the minutes were ticking away. “It�
�s best you stop right there. I gave you a chance, Derek. Never say I didn’t.” Derek went rigid as a tendril of blue flame shot toward him like an arrow, piercing the exterior of his dirty jacket. My magic sent back a pulsing sensation as it bore through cloth, leather, and… right into hard plastic. “Ah, there you are, my precious. Never saw a disc, huh, Derek?”
My magic lifted the disc out of the hidden pocket, floated it through the air over to my waiting hand. It was barely the size of a quarter, clear as glass, and as light as a feather. I’d never seen anything like it, and despite my predicament, my curiosity perked up.
“What is this, Derek?”
“I dunno.”
“You have two seconds to tell me, or I’m cuffing you to that radiator and leaving you for Knight. Whatever he has planned should buy me enough time to figure out what’s on the disc. Or you can just come clean.” His lips clamped tight. Before he could react, I reached out and snagged his skinny wrist.
“Please, Andy. I was just looking to make a little cash,” he whined nasally. “Just trying to get by, is all. This whole thing was Frank’s deal. Do you really think I’d be out pulling jobs with Knight looking for me?”
He had a point. Derek was many things, but he wasn’t completely stupid.
“Then tell me about the disc. Help me understand.” Derek shook his head vehemently, his eyes swimming in tears. Which meant he either didn’t know what was on it… or he knew, and it scared him even more than Knight did. Which shouldn’t be possible.
Betrayed by Blood: The Shelton Family Legacy : 1 Page 1
