The Road to Redemption
Read The Road to Redemption Online
Authors: Nicky Charles
Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Paranormal, #werewolves, #angst, #lycans, #law of the lycans
The Road to
Redemption
Nicky Charles
PUBLISHED BY:
Nicky Charles on
Smashwords
Betrayed – Book Two:
The Road to Redemption
Copyright © 2014 Nicky
Charles
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any
printed or electronic form without permission from the author,
except for brief quotations embodied in reviews. Please do not
participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are
the property of the author and your support and respect is
appreciated.
This book is a work of
fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places,
events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are
productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
This book contains
mature content and is intended for mature readers.
Edited by Jan
Gordon
Line edits by Jennifer
Moody, MoodyEdits.com
Cover Design by Nicky
Charles
Cover Photos Copyright
© nemke/Shutterstock; Artem and Victoria Popovy/Shutterstock
Pawprint logo Copyright
© Doron Goldstein, Designer
Table of Contents
This book is dedicated
to
She is a
courageous fan who is battling ovarian cancer. She reached out to
me through a fan letter stating she’d likely not be here to read
this, the next book in the series, to which I replied, “Excuse me?
Not
be here for my next book! That is
totally
unacceptable.” I promised her this would be ‘her’ book provided she
kept fighting and she did!
I’d like to
tell you a little bit about her. First, she’s a wonderful person.
She has a great sense of humour, a creative spirit (as shown
through the beautiful bracelets she makes) and a love for animals
that matches my own. Thanks to a suggestion from Jan Gordon, she’s
also a member of my ‘street team’. Plus, she’s Canadian and you
can’t ask for more than that, can you?
Deborah is
still bravely undergoing treatment and fighting each day to beat
the disease that is attacking her. Please, may I ask that everyone
who reads this book pray for her or send healing thoughts her
way.
“
We love you
Deborah. Never give up!”
Love and hugs from,
Nicky, Jan and all the
ladies of TLS
The Road to Redemption
Prologue
Excerpt from
The Finding:
Sam Harper drummed the
table with her fingers, eyes narrowed, mouth clamped shut in a
straight line. Six months ago a meeting with Kane Sinclair had
raised her hackles and the memory still rankled. The arrogant son
of a bitch had dared to claim the Chicago pack was inefficient and
mismanaged. Ha! As if he knew anything about what went on in this
city. The man had no idea; absolutely none!
And then there
was the brother. Ryne Taylor had stolen from the Chicago pack;
Cassandra Greyson had been a potential pack mate. Both her land and
money would have gone far to assist their beleaguered
resources.
But instead of
being grateful that the Chicago pack wasn’t pressing charges
against them, Kane, Ryne, and the Beta, Bryan—another pain in the
ass—had pulled out the Book of the Law, using it to claim what
wasn’t theirs. And then Sinclair had the gall to leave mumbling
about a takeover!
Well, it
wasn’t going to happen. The pack had met and agreed on a course of
action. It wasn’t ideal—they all knew it—but sometimes necessity
drove you to take actions you never thought you would. For example,
hiring ‘Sylvia,’ or whoever she was, to kill Leon Aldrich. It had
gone against the grain to go to outsiders for help, but that damned
Sinclair wouldn’t leave them alone; constantly demanding reports
and updates.
Sam snorted.
Well, Aldrich was gone and at least they hadn’t had to pay Sylvia.
It was a small thing, but some days you took what you could get in
the way of good news.
With the money
saved, they could afford to buy some more help for the next problem
looming on the horizon. Rumour had it Sinclair was sending someone
in to check the pack out, but the intruder would have a surprise
waiting for him. Sam took a swig of beer and leaned back against
the wall, one lip curled.
There was a
small faction of werewolves that were true loners or rogues. They
were usually tough, mean and as deadly as they came, but they were
also for hire. A meeting had been set up with one of them for
tonight. On the off chance Sinclair’s ‘spy’ came around, the
Chicago pack would have the rogue in their back pocket and whip the
intruder’s butt, sending him back to Oregon with his tail between
his legs.
A glance at
the clock let Sam know it was almost time. A final swig of beer; a
glance around the smoky, crowded bar… Yep, the usual crowd looking
to start something. Well, good luck with that you losers, Sam
thought. I don’t take crap from anyone.
Shoulders
back, chin up; look each person straight in the eye until they’re
compelled to look away. Sam smirked. I’m an Alpha, buddy. You don’t
stand a chance.
Almost to the
door and… There it was, a hand on the shoulder. Some jerk always
had to try his luck.
“Hey, baby.
You got a cute ass.” The man’s liquor soaked breath was offensive
as was the stench coming off his sweaty body. He tried to pull her
backwards. “Wanna share—”
The man never
stood a chance. Sam jerked her arm back, elbowing the idiot in the
stomach. As he bent forward, clutching his mid-section, she ground
her stiletto heel into his foot, then pivoted around to deliver an
uppercut to his chin. In a matter of seconds, the man was an
unconscious heap on the ground.
“Anyone else?”
With disdain, Sam surveyed the men who were gathering around her.
The assault was nothing new. She frequented quite a few bars and
the human males always thought she’d be an easy target, not knowing
what she lacked in size, she made up for with skill and speed.
When no one
answered, she sniffed and turned, walking slowly towards the door
at a leisurely pace. No hurried exit for her. She could see her
reflection in the glass doors as she approached. Short, black hair
spiked on top with a longer fringe almost hiding her eyes. She’d
used black kohl liner to take further attention away from her eye
colour. They were violet, a rare shade in humans and even rarer in
wolves. Sam despised the colour; it was too girly for the image she
tried to portray. Now, her black jeans and T-shirt, complete with
leather jacket—
that
gave off the right vibes. Her heels were
her only outward concession to femininity since they gave her some
much needed height.
She was at the
exit now. No one had made a move to follow her, not that she
expected them to. As the door started to swing shut behind her, she
could hear the murmur of voices and allowed herself a tight
smile.
“Did you see
that?”
“She flattened
Phil in two seconds!”
“Just a might
of a thing, too.”
“Hey, Phil!
You okay, buddy?”
The sound of
the voices faded as she walked down the street, carefully assessing
the shadowed doorways. Pools of light from the street lamps
brightened select areas giving a false sense that the street was
safe, but Sam knew better.
Someone was
following her. Not someone from the bar. This person had been
waiting outside. Her rogue, perhaps? She wouldn’t put it past the
unpredictable beasts. Well, if he thought to get the better of her,
he had another think coming.
The man was
good, she’d give him that. His pace matched hers perfectly, but a
prickling on the back of her neck, and the faintest shuffling sound
gave him away. He had a slight limp and she wondered why. Wolves
usually healed completely. Well, she’d ask him once she was done
taking him down a peg or two for tailing her.
It wasn’t that
she needed help against Sinclair’s spy, she was sure she could take
whoever the bastard sent, but a male always seemed to impress other
wolves more than a female, and creating an illusion was what this
was all about. Smoke and mirrors. She’d been using it successfully
for the past three years, it would work again—a faint frown passed
over her features and she bit her lip—it had to.
Sam reached
the corner and walked around it, then ducked into the first doorway
she came to. This was the corner she was supposed to meet the rogue
at. She chuckled thinking that this meeting wouldn’t go quite as
the man had planned.
The sound of
his footsteps grew closer, but the tempo had changed. The man
suspected something. Sam twisted her lips, impressed, but not ready
to let him off. Muscles tensed, senses alert, adrenaline rushed
through her as she prepared for a fight.
1
Damien leaned against
the brick wall, its rough surface lightly digging into his shoulder
through a rip in his shirt. He was breathing hard, sweat trickling
down his face, the still, heavy air doing nothing to help cool him
off. With each inhalation, he took in the scents of the city;
exhaust fumes, garbage, humanity. The back alley of one city
smelled very much like that of another though this one had one
significant difference. Lycans.
The she-wolf
across the alley from him had her butt propped against the edge of
a dumpster, her hands braced on her knees as she stood, half
hunched, trying to catch her breath. The fight they’d just
completed had been exhilarating as she’d matched him move for move.
He’d barely needed to hold back; her speed and agility making up
for what she lacked in size and muscle. Already, faint aches and
pains were letting themselves be known, and no doubt in brighter
surroundings he’d find a fine array of bruises decorating his
body.
Grabbing the
edge of his shirt, he gave his face a quick wipe, careful to keep
one eye on his opponent. When Kane had described the petite female
who acted as Samuel Harper’s spokesperson, he’d made her sound
ineffectual. Damien had pictured her as demure, perhaps carrying a
clipboard and peering over her glasses. While it was true she might
not look like much of a threat, the last few minutes had shown it
wasn’t wise to underestimate her. He wondered if Kane had set him
up; purposely leaving out the information that the woman packed a
lethal punch. Thanks, buddy.
Pushing off
from the wall, he swallowed, wincing slightly at the pull of his
dry throat and wishing he had a stiff drink. But there’d be time
enough for that later. Instead, he focused on her.
“We done?”
There was a
pause in her breathing and then he saw her nod.
“Yeah. I think
we’re done.”
Had he really
heard a hint of laughter in her voice? Damien eyed her
speculatively as she straightened from her braced position. At some
point their battle had moved from the street to the alley where
they now stood. The faint light from a single bulb over the
backdoor of a restaurant was the only illumination. It wasn’t much,
but he was still able to make out her features. Short, dark hair, a
petite yet muscular build. An alley fighter—a damned
good
alley fighter—and a female. Who’d have thought?
