Read Dark (Beautiful Ashes #1) Online
Authors: Lora Ann
Dark (Beautiful Ashes #1)
Dark
Beautiful Ashes Series
By Lora Ann
(Beautiful Ashes Series, Book 1)
Lora Ann
Dark
Published by The Greatest of These, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2016 by Lora Ann
Cover design by Lucian Bane
Purchased stock photo from www.123rf.com
This book is dedicated to all who feel they will never be enough. That the things they’ve done, choices they’ve made deem them unworthy, unlovable, and unwanted. Don’t buy into those lies! You are more than worthy, loveable and wanted.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.
John 10:10a NIV
Contents
Preview Desecrating Solomon by Bestselling Author Lucian Bane
Preview Dark Veil: The Society Series Book 3 by Bestselling Author Mason Sabre
Darkness consumed the young woman. The dream was evident with every violent thrash she gave, yet something told her there was so much more. Cold sweat drenched her body as a monster from the past rose up to claim her, again. She should have fought. Should’ve demanded he stop. Problem was, she not only relished what his sadistic torture brought to life inside her, but savored it. Craved it. Wanted more and more until the demon fully possessed her. She invited him in as an adored lover welcomed her mate. His violence was familiar, comforting. She was as acquainted with his wrath as her own skin. Yes, Keeley was his and he knew it, demanding she bleed out for him—only him. With an enraged kick across the bed, she knocked over the bedside table, slicing her foot on a lamp that broke. The smell of blood wafted through the air, increasing her desire. She needed him to
fuck
her. To bathe in her life source until she ran dry.
The devil sneered as he took a bite of her innermost parts, draining her of every ounce of essence she could provide. And she only wanted to give him more as he took with a vengeance, malevolence raging to have her. From the grave he wrapped his decaying fingers around her throat and squeezed. “Give it to me, Keeley,” his seductive voice commanded.
Something in
that
awakened another side of her
.
A spark of light, she long considered forever extinguished, incessantly attempted to shine. The flame required her oxygen, her fuel to burn. Burn with a brilliance. Burn with a purpose. The demon roared and writhed beneath the ever-present love that wouldn’t let him take what was so clearly his. She wanted
him,
unmistakably claimed his wickedness as her own
.
He could give her what that damnable light never could. She was addicted to pain as if it’d become her new brand of heroin. He raged in fury at the flickering, tiny spark that refused to go out and let him have his prize. It was so weak, so pathetic, if he could convince her to put it out, once and for all, they could reign together. He’d have his queen to do with as he pleased—when he pleased. Never permitting death. An eternity of torture and pain he knew she yearned for in the deep recesses of her soul. Yes, her soul was what he fought for.
And he would have it!
All of a sudden, when he violently slammed his cock inside her forbidden hole he felt a pain like no other, screaming, the demon withdrew and examined his prized possession. Worry knitted his brow as he saw the decay climbing along his proud manhood. His hand shook as his body shuddered.
What was happening?
He searched rapidly to find the source of this new development. That was when he saw it, rising from the ashes. The damnable flair coming to life, still struggling to hold on, but fight it was doing. Immeasurable love blinding him as he shielded his eyes. He had to take care of that before it gained any more strength. In an instant, his quest shifted. Destroy that light, that fucking love, and she was his forevermore. He backed into the shadows he was so accustomed to, studying his newest foe. But his queen had more than one holding that light alive.
He hissed, “Lacey and those damn Strand brothers,” before realizing that, while Keeley’s sister and her new family posed a threat, she wasn’t his biggest adversary. No. The one called Tar was going to valiantly fight for her.
His maniacal laugh caused the troubled Keeley to rise, terror in her eyes as they darted around the room. She couldn’t see him, of course. He stepped closer and ran his hand through her hair and whispered, “Your knight will
not
save you. Love isn’t what you desire. Only I can give you what you need. Mark my words, beauty, he shall die. And you will be the one to destroy him.”
Keeley screamed and screamed and screamed until her vocal chords refused to function. Her eyes blinked rapidly, for she knew—
she knew
—her monster spoke the truth. If she permitted Tar into her heart, she would be his executioner. No more thought entered her mind as she moved like a robot. This was rote to her. Bag in hand, she snuck out like a thief acknowledging she could never return, yet if it kept Tar alive and safe, she’d gladly pay the price of loneliness. A light like his should never come in contact with the obsidian that was her.
Darkness smiled as he laced his fingers with hers and tugged her into a world she would never escape. He had won, after all.
Chapter
One
Infuriated didn’t even begin to explain how he was feeling at the moment. Little viper did what he always knew she would, break his fucking heart as she ran as far and fast as she could from him. Damn, she was phenomenal at staying low and keeping just out of reach. He was impressed with Keeley’s skills even if he wanted to spank her ass for it. Girl could give some of the best known terrorists a run for their money on how to proficiently play cloak and dagger. A quick shake of his head brought him back into focus. He couldn’t let his mind wander back to those caves in Afghanistan. They held demons he’d fought hard to escape, barely surviving.
Get your head in the game, McNeal
.
The night vision binoculars aided his ability to identify his target. Definitely the woman in question entered a sex club. Acknowledgement that she would let some disgusting prick have sex with her did not bode well for whoever the man was when Tar got his hands on him. Unbidden, the visual of pure violence came to him.
Yeah, this was a no go.
In his frame of mind, he would kill, at the very least, maim. Now that he found her, though, he wasn’t walking away. Decision made, he strode with purpose. Heaven help whoever had his woman in the throes of passion, or most likely pain.
With the stealth of all his training, he entered unnoticed. What met his eyes threw him for a loop momentarily. Accustomed to Even Strand’s establishments, he was by no means prepared to step back in time. Staring him head-on was the Spanish Inquisition. Unlike the dungeons he’d grown fond of hanging around at E’s clubs, this was a full-blown torture chamber. His mind instantly brought up pictures of Senator Caleb Reynolds’ “play areas” front and center. Sick fuck got exactly what he deserved. In his opinion, it was poetic justice at its finest. Regret began to fill Tar as he tamped it back. There was no way to raise the dead so Tar could kill him for the hell he’d put Keeley and the Strand women through.
Futile to even go there.
He scanned the area with hawk-like precision, quickly concluding she was not in there. “Thank God,” he spoke under his breath and continued on the mission.
Determined to ignore the shrieks and cries, reminding himself they were consenting adults choosing to be tortured for pleasure. Thought made his skin crawl, not out of judgement but concern that Keeley was slipping deeper into an addiction he wasn’t sure he could pull her out of. He’d known she was fighting it. The fact she was in a place like this, told him—she’d long lost the battle. First, he got her the hell out of there. Then, he needed to do his homework. There had to be a way to balance her. Help her find the healthy medium between pain and pleasure.
The blood-curdling scream froze him momentarily. His body went into action long before his brain connected the dots. Keeley. She didn’t sound like a woman who accepted whatever was being done to her. Confirmation came on a, “NOOO!”
*****
This was
not
what she wanted. Accustomed to all sorts of devices designed to bring glorious pain, that deadly hunter’s blade in his hand was for one thing and one thing only—death. If she had a smidge of hope that wasn’t the hooded figure’s intention, it was dashed when the barest of light caught his eyes. They were saturated in bloodlust. Crazed beyond reason. She fought harder but was locked down tight to the table most would see in a medical examiner’s office. Keeley found that fitting in an ironic turn of events.
Already dead in so many ways, might as well let the sick fuck deliver the final blow, or slice as it were.
Making peace with all that she knew or would ever know again as a living, breathing human being, she gave into the inevitable. The sharp blade went deep along the inside of her upper thigh. Blood rushed out like a drinking fountain stuck in the on position. Keeley’s eyes rolled back into her head. The demon, her lover, stood nodding his approval. But when the monster before her shoved that horrific killing tool into her fully wide-open sex, Keeley found her voice and screamed with all that she had left.
“NOOOOO! I don’t…w-want to…die,” she gasped. That realization came too late as the madman fucked her vengefully with the knife. Her breath became more and more shallow, and tears leaked as her vision went fuzzy. Keeley could’ve sworn her father stood there, watching, as she reached for him and begged silently that he would save her somehow, someway. But the apparition burned her with his scornful gaze, ensuring she knew he would never approve of her.
A decayed hand clutched hers as fear crept along her skin, reminding her of a sack of baby spiders when they scurry along their way after hatching. The horror show continued as the corpse held onto her and directed the killer between her legs. A cock replaced the knife. She watched him in a detached sort of way. Her blood poured out over him as he pulled out of her body then violently thrust back in. Lost in his own pleasure, he’d conveniently forgotten about the edge of the blade against her throat. With each powerful push inside her, a slice was made. The more gore she was covered in, the more he craved, roaring his release. Unexpectedly, he was gone. Keeley heard a snap as if someone stepped on a fallen branch in the forest. Peaceful and yet terrifying such a sound was. An odd silence followed as she strained to stay conscience. If this was her end, she would face it eye to eye.
The demon wouldn’t hear of that. He blocked her searching, fading gaze by capturing her mouth to suck the rest of her life away.
*****
Keeley was choking. At least he thought that was her restrained to the god-awful autopsy table. People had some twisted fantasies in this world. Tar moved with panther-like grace as he held her head up at an angle and used his own blade to free her. He’d seen a lot of wounded bodies before, held the hands of dying
brothers
on the line. But this—
his woman
giving a valiant attempt to remain alive—was something he’d not been prepared for. “I’m here, Keeley. I won’t let you go,” he vowed, lifting her.
Her garbled, “Tar,” tugged at his soul like nothing ever had before.
“Yes,” he answered her, forcing his mind on the problem at hand. Escape was priority number one. An edge of something caught his eye against the dimly lit wall. Carefully but expeditiously, his fingers ran along the protrusion recognizing it was a door. With the woman he loved tucked firmly in his arms, Tar exited the room of terror.
*****
Keeley’s head lulled awkwardly to the side where the demon hit his knees in the chamber of death and roared, “She is
mine
!” Again, the light took what was his. “He will pay dearly,” the demon vowed, locking his eyes directly on hers as he stood.
Blessedly she was losing consciousness, but not before acknowledging what she’d done. All of Hell was coming for Tarius McNeal.
*****
Tar ghosted from the club and toward a safe locale, already running through the data base in his mind on who was best suited to handle clean-up detail for the mess he’d just made. A hurricane in his need to protect the woman he loved, he’d left mass destruction in his wake. Something he knew would get his ass handed to him. He couldn’t bring himself to give a flying fuck. That was telling, right there. The precious cargo lying in the backseat was his only concern. His only focus. As he took the turn down a nondescript alley, he placed the call. “Yeah,” came a voice from his past, raising every hair on his body to high alert.
“Be there in two,” he answered, placing the SUV into park. With the gentlest of movements, he lifted the broken, lifeless body, not wanting to harm her anymore. There was no need to knock, the door was opened as he approached.
“The fuck?!” Tar’s brother-in-arms, Mitch, and the best medic he’d ever known, exclaimed.
He didn’t make eye contact, just continued down the dank hallway.
“Grab supplies,” Tar commanded, entering a room he thought he’d never lay eyes on again. Some things never left a man, no matter how hard he attempted to lock them up tight and throw away the key. Tar was in full combat mode dealing with an emergency. Instead of putting Keeley through unnecessary pain, he inserted the needle into her vein, providing some relief. He knew she’d be pissed about that later, even understood her reasoning. But damn it all, he was not capable of watching her suffer any more so than she already was.
“Wanna start explaining this shit to me.” Not a question, but a demand.
Tar’s eyes lit on the man who had once been his best friend. “I had nowhere else to go. You’re the best of the best.”
Gloves were already donned as the rough looking man leaned forward to get a better a look at the woman. “Who the fuck did this to her?”
“Handled,” Tar answered without remorse.
“Good.”
The men worked diligently cleaning, stitching, and bandaging the wounds they could see. They were about to wrap things up when blood began to seep from between her legs. “She on her period?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
He reached to spread Keeley’s legs apart when waves of fluid gushed. “Holy fuck! She’s bleeding out!”
Everything became a blur of action as the men raced to save Keeley’s life. The night dragged on as one problem led to another. When all was said and done, she had over seventy-five stitches and no uterus. Though Mitch tried to save it, too much damage was done. Tar sat heavily next to her and held her tiny hand.
“I am sorry,” Mitch apologized as he clapped his old friend on the shoulder.
He shook his head and replied, “You saved her life. No need to apologize.”
Mitch took his leave knowing there was nothing more he could do at the moment. But he acknowledged Tar was in denial. What woman ever wanted to hear she’d never be a mother? Worse, he couldn’t miss the love in his friend’s eyes. If Tar stayed with that young woman, he’d never be a father. At least not biologically.
Talk about seriously fucked up.
