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Authors: Avery Duncan

Tags: #romance, #love, #paranormal, #myths, #abusive

BOOK: Sin of Fury
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Amena lay still. She was
gone. She was finished. But she would be avenged.

As he stared around the
gathering crowd, cheers and boasts ringing the dusty air, the wind
picking up, Lyne saw Auro.

Silently, calmly, he
leaned against the back of a building, watching with an emotion
that Lyne could not begin to make out. The sword in his hand felt
heavy, the hilt seeming to burn into his soul as he now stared down
at the still woman staring up at him with pleading eyes.

His heart stopped in his
chest. The knowledge that Auro had known this would happen hit him,
almost bringing him to his knees. The welling tears in his eyes
refused to fall, rage and betrayal taking their stead.

As he brought down the
sword, the crowd crying louder along with his wife, his whisper was
lost among the ominous howls of the now-raging wind.


You will know this pain
one day, Talon.”

 

~*~

 

Auro looked up at the soft slide of
the door. The candle burning beside him flickered in the breeze,
the words of his book fading from sight for only a second. He set
it down slowly as his brother entered the library with soft
steps.

Lyne was quiet as he sat down,
something that Auro was wary about. There was a small puckered cut
on his hand, and he knew immediately what Lyne had done.


I am done.” Lyne spoke
quietly, head bowed.

Auro smiled, putting his hand on
Lyne’s shoulder. “I am glad, brother. I knew it would only be a
matter of time til you were completely done with the remembrance of
that whore.”

Lyne nodded, bringing his pale face up
to meet Auro’s soft eyes. “I do not know why I held onto her for so
long,” he murmured, brow stooping over his expressive eyes. Auro
smiled again, more adoring this time. It was a pleasure to know
that he was the only one who could read his brother so well. Any
other man would have thought Lyne was as dead as a corpse inside,
but he knew better.


Sometimes… I get so angry,
Auro. I want to kill everything. I know that is what you wish, but
when it came to Amena… Auro, it was so bad…” His voice broke on her
name, just as his heart pitched.

Lyne was finally over her memory, yet
the piece of his heart that she had taken with her, had crushed and
torn…it would never be the same. Auro knew that if the time
came—and it would—Lyne would become the more superior wrath. His
fighting was more extensive and his emotions, so uncapped and free,
would take over his common sense. One day, Lyne would be greater
than him.

It bothered Auro naught. His strength
and anger would be what kept them alive until they had Talon’s full
power.


Lyne,” he started,
brushing his thumb along his brother’s jugular. Matching crimson
eyes met his. “What news of the woman have you found?” He had let
his brother have the honor of seeking the woman.

Suddenly, Lyne’s eyes seemed to
sparkle. “The best! It seems, my brother, that she has been living
under our noses the entire time.”

Auro cocked a brow, his fingers
tangling in the thin hair at the nape of Lyne’s neck. “Is that so,
dear one?”

Lyne nodded, leaning back into the
chair. “Remember the woman’s nurse maid, the last time around? The
weird occurrences that she spoke of, and how they corresponded with
Talon’s former birth?”

He nodded, pleased at the turn of the
night. “Oh, I remember. How could I forget?” he asked dryly,
already knowing that his brother’s information would sound foolish
at best.


She was originally born in
Florida,” Lyne started, ignoring his droll comment.

Auro nodded, telling him to go on
without words. The smile that Lyne gave him was salacious. “My men
reported back to me that the nurses who birthed her were willing to
give them some interesting information. Before I get to that, I
would like us both to recall what the midwifes told us the time
before last.”

He waved his hand for Lyne to continue
when he looked pointedly at Auro to make sure he was listening.
“Yes, well, they said the fires flickered, then burst. The candles
through the room exploded, and even some of their utensils seemed
to spark with life.”

Auro knew the words were spiced to
make his claim more interesting, yet he listened with interest,
appeasing his brother. “They were not born in the same year, mind
you, but at the same time—midnight. Don’t shake your head at me
with that foolish smile, brother. What I’m saying is
serious.


He was born at midnight,
on the first of January. Same for the woman, but she was born only
several years later. Six years apart, yet their birth is
concurrent. Just as it was all of the other times—it was the one
thing that we never accounted for.”

Auro knew he was right, but couldn’t
bring himself to believe what Lyne was saying. It was a silly
notion, one that he would not be able to support until he saw the
proof. “How do you know that that is what’s linking them, brother?
Millions of babes are born at the same time,” he pointed out,
moving his hand down his brother’s shoulder in a caressing
motion.

Lyne smiled, taking Auro’s hand to
place a small kiss upon his knuckles. “The night those two were
born, the hospital lost its electricity. They were born in two
different hospitals, the only babies born that night, and they both
caused a great amount of lost energy. Our men reported back to me
that by the time the children were out, the wives had turned into
something close to demons. The way that the nurses described it,
they said, was as if the mothers had become possessed—“


And how are our men
getting this information so quickly when she was born so far away?”
Auro inquired, raising a brow.


I sent them to Orlando
some weeks ago,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Brother, you
amuse me so,” he said fondly, taking Auro’s arm in his and rising
from his seat.

Lyne was so jubilant to be talking of
his discoveries, that he simply could not stay still. His brother’s
arm was cold in his, yet he knew that Auro was feeling the same
thing. The house was chilly, but held no effect on them.


And she lives here now?”
he asked, taking them aimlessly down the hall.

Lyne nodded, smiling with
appreciation. “She moved here several years ago, in
fact.”


And what is this woman’s
name? I had not asked before because I wished to let you have your
fill of detective work—I know that it pleases you,” Auro commented,
leading his brother down the left and back. Dark curtains blocked
sunlight, enhancing the chill that was a permanent in the house. It
was an inconvenience, and they always had to replaced the memorable
works that were within their house when they became too
damaged.


Jamie Saxton,” Lyne
answered, the name a small whisper on his cracked lips. Auro smiled
at his brother, incisors flashing.


You have plans for her, I
assume?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of the door that held
Talon. They dropped their arms. There was no need to physically
touch when their sadistic intent was so close, so perfect, that
they were actually one instead of two beings.


Oh, yes,” he replied
softly, his voice a hiss between his sharp teeth. Auro pushed the
door open with a flourish, the approval in his eyes clear as Lyne
stepped past him.


Well, then. Why not test
these plans on Talon while we wait?”


Let’s.”

And together they stepped into the
room.

The door closed with a soft
whoosh.

Chapter 3

Jamie flinched as the door
shut with a slam. She choked down the familiar tears and sagged,
shoulders curling defensively. The fighting wasn’t new to her and
neither was the pain it caused

both physically and
mentally

but that
didn’t mean it hurt any less every time.

Her hand curled around the sponge she
held. She had been cleaning up the beer Chris had spilled, but it
hadn’t been his fault. It had been hers. Everything was, just like
Chris liked to yell at her. Her heart jerked, chest aching. Her
legs were wobbly and her hands were numb.

Turning away from the
bright window, the spilled beer, from
everything
, Jamie threw the sponge to
the ground and ran to the bedroom, not even checking to see if his
car was still in the driveway. Her heart pounded with pent up pain;
it was almost too hard to keep from sobbing.

The door knob was cold under her hand.
Just like the room inside. The plain bed sheets were spotless,
everything in the room in order. There were no clothes on the
floor, nothing to tell anyone that their relationship was a mess,
nothing that led people to believe they were anything but a happy
couple.

Chris made sure that people knew whom
she belonged to. He bragged constantly about the beautiful trophy
girlfriend he had, about where her family came from. She gagged,
not even making it to the bed before she fell to her knees, arms
wrapping around tightly her stomach. He told anyone and everyone
who would listen that they were happy— she wondered what would
happen if they actually knew what went on behind closed
doors?

Jamie shuddered to think about it. Her
father hadn’t been much better, but at least his grip hadn’t been
as bruising as Chris’s was. She looked at her arms, the yellowing
skin white in the glare of the lights. Large glass windows were the
only thing protecting her from prying eyes—which wasn’t much. The
heated pool outside reflected soft lights and hues into the room.
Everything looked like a snowy wonderland—except for the fact that
the place was in no way a “wonderland”.

She finally let the tears pooling in
her eyes fall.

How long til Chris would be back? She
hadn’t heard his truck leave the driveway, though he might’ve tried
to walk.. He paced a lot when he was drunk; he liked to move
around, to stomp and rage.

Jamie closed her eyes before standing
up, trying to breathe calmly. Chris wouldn’t be back til later, so
she had enough time. As panic welled fiercely in her heart, Jamie
felt an urgency that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She ran to the
closet, throwing open the doors.

There should have been a suitcase in
there somewhere, under all of the boxes. When Chris had taken her
cell phone from her, shutting it off and canceling any previous
plans, he had thought that she would be intimidated enough to stay.
He hadn’t considered that he should hide the suitcase.

Thankful for his forgetfulness, Jamie
found the large black bag and pulled it out. Her shaking hands
wrapped around the handle, dragging it to the bed. Setting it on
the large, king-size mattress, she looked frantically over her
shoulder to see if Chris might be standing there, his fist raised,
coming at her.

She started trembling violently. On
the other side of the room was another closet, full of their
clothes. The expensive designer suits, the well-known brands and
jewelry meant nothing to her. When Chris had first started courting
her, she had been flattered, wearing them with pride.

Now, the pride was drained from her,
the happiness derived from her life. Her mother had known, she
thought as she slowly opened the shutter closet. Jamie feared that
if she were too loud, Chris would hear her. A silly
thought.

He wasn’t even in the
house.

Feeling ridiculous, a nervous laugh
bubbled in her throat. The only thing that kept her moving, kept
her packing, was that there was still hope to get away. Her mother
had called last night, the first time in three years. The
conversation hadn’t been completely unpleasant, but the second she
had read the unfamiliar number, she had known.

She’d lifted the phone slowly, her
voice but a whisper. Chris had been asleep on the couch, passed
out, drunk off his ass. She sneered, remembering disgustedly how he
had smelled of sex and beer. He hadn’t had the time to yell at her,
of course, or to even make a move at her.

He had been too busy slumping against
the door, falling asleep right there. Jamie had tried to drag him
to the bed, hands shaking and body repulsed by their close
proximity. She was still shocked that she had even tried to make a
move toward him; but seeing him lying there, handsome face clean of
anger, had reminded her of the days when everything had been happy,
pure.

Jamie snorted, pain pulsing
through her shoulder as she reached up for the hangers. She winced,
but pushed it aside. If she could just get out of the house before
Chris came back, there would be no more pain, no more
anything
.

She recalled her mother’s phone call,
the small feather of hope that had risen inside of her last night
returning. Just thinking of the soft voice was enough to strengthen
her. Jamie gave a muted curse as her shoulder throbbed even more,
but carried the hangers to the bed.


Come home, Jamie,” her
mother had whispered. Jamie had frozen. Her heart had stopped,
trying to believe if it really were her. The soft sob had been
enough of a confirmation.

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