Blood Rites: (Royal Blood #3) Read online

  “Have a seat,” he said smugly, waving a hand absently at an empty chair opposite. “Glad you could make it. And so promptly, too.”

  Hawkes lingered behind me as I sat and put the briefcase on the floor beside me, my entire body rigid as I did. I didn’t give one shit about the humiliation I was currently going through, I was here for one thing and one thing only.

  “I have what you want,” I said. “I want to see the girl first, then we make the exchange.”

  Sykes smiled, glancing at his goon in the corner. They shared a smirk. Something was up…if he was going to double-cross me he’d regret it.

  “I don’t want anything from you, Vaughn,” he said. “Not anymore.”

  I didn’t understand. He wanted…

  “This is about respect,” he went on. “Not about money. I couldn’t care less about that. What I want is to bring you down off your fucking throne and drag you through the dirt like a pig. If I can topple the untouchable Sebastian Vaughn, then nothing will get in my way and the world knows it.”

  My jaw tensed and I gritted my teeth, trying to keep myself collected. This had been a message to the world. My downfall had been a goddamned fucking lesson. Lorelei had suffered for a fucking game.

  I tensed and went to stand, but Hawkes clamped his hand on my shoulder.

  Sykes laughed, knowing that he had me in the palm of his hand. What else had he done? I didn’t have to ask because it was written all over the smug bastard’s face. He’d leaked everything to the authorities, to Gregory Lansford, to the world. I was ruined, but I had already been willing to sacrifice it all for Lorelei’s safe return, so none of it mattered.

  And Lorelei? What of her?

  “Where is she?” I hissed.

  Sykes smirked, basking in his accomplishment.

  “You’ve won, Sykes,” I snapped. “Where. Is. She?”

  “You can have her,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “If you can get to her in time.”

  The blood began to drain from my face. “Where is she?” I roared.

  “She’s hanging out,” he said with a laugh. “End of the hall. Oh, and Vaughn? I’d run if I were you.”

  I jerked upright and shoved Hawkes out of the way, rage and desperation simmering below the surface. Lorelei…

  I lost all sense of decorum, my usual refined exterior gone, and ran.

  Nineteen

  Lorelei

  Darkness and terror.

  It didn’t matter who they were, they told me it was all because of Vaughn. He’d crossed the wrong man and I was the price.

  They’d cut me, made me bleed and they’d touched me until I could no longer remember the way Vaughn loved me.

  They hung me from the ceiling, shackles tearing into my skin. They broke me and took everything.

  I didn’t know how long I was in that dark room, but it was long enough for them to make me beg for death. They hung me from the ceiling, hoisting me up by the ankles and cut my skin open. Blood dripped to the floor, slowly draining from my body as I dangled, my fingertips barely scraping the puddle below me.

  I was beyond everything… Beyond fighting, beyond caring, beyond wanting to live.

  I watched another droplet of blood hit the floor and listened to the sound it made as it splashed against the concrete.

  I was so tired.

  Where was Vaughn? He said he’d do whatever it took to protect me.

  I sighed, the effort burning through my lungs. He wasn’t coming.

  Who was Vaughn? He must be important. It didn't matter.

  I closed my eyes.

  I was so tired.

  Twenty

  Vaughn

  I ran down the hall, my footsteps thunder on the concrete, my breath ragged.

  Please don’t let me be too late… Lorelei… I’m coming…

  I slammed my shoulder against the door at the end of the hall and it splintered with a crack, flying inwards and colliding with the wall, almost falling off the hinges.

  My gaze fell onto a scene of horror and I almost fell to my knees. Lorelei was hanging upside down from the ceiling, naked, cut, bleeding…pale… There was blood everywhere and I let out an anguished wail.

  Falling to my knees, I grasped her face, unaware that her blood was seeping into the knees of my jeans, that it was coating my hands. I held her face and her eyes stared back, her big, brown eyes…and they were lifeless. Her spark, her life, was gone.

  No, no, no…

  With trembling hands, I checked for a pulse, pressing against her neck. She was cold, her skin clammy to the touch and sticky with blood.

  There was nothing…nothing…

  “Lorelei,” I moaned, tears streaming down my face. “Please come back. Please…”

  She was gone…gone…

  “Please, Lorelei… I love you, come back… I love you.” The words died in my throat.

  She was gone…dead. He’d killed her, he’d taken her from me.

  Scrambling to my feet, I backed away. Lorelei was dead. She was dead and I hadn’t told her that I was in love with her.

  Suddenly, I was overcome with unbearable anger. It flared through my entire body, my grief ruling my head and heart. Sykes had to pay. I would hang him, flay him and make him suffer like the dog he was.

  I ran back the way I came, covered in her blood, my gun in my hand. I’d fucking kill him. He’d murdered her, he’d taken the only woman I’d ever loved… I would make him suffer.

  Kicking open the door, the room was empty. Sykes was gone.

  I cursed out loud, fisting my hands into my hair.

  “Vaughn.”

  I turned, drawing my gun and came face to face with Hawkes. What a sight I must be. A crazed man holding a gun in bloodstained hands.

  “She’s gone…” I choked out. “He took her…”

  He looked me over and didn’t say anything. He just reached out and took the gun from my shaking hand.

  “We need to leave,” he said calmly.

  I held out my hands and stared at her blood. We had to leave her here and the thought horrified me, leaving her so exposed, so violated, hanging there…waiting for the police to find her. I had to leave her shell so I could avenge her suffering.

  Hawkes gestured for me to follow him. “I’m with you, Sir,” he said. “We’ll get him.”

  Nodding, I gathered the last of my strength and stepped through the door, into the hall and simply left.

  There was nothing else I could do.

  Lorelei was dead.

  In an instant, I’d become empty.

  I hadn’t realized anything was missing until she walked into my life and filled it. How could one woman change me so much in such a short amount of time? I was no longer Sebastian Vaughn, billionaire playboy. I wasn’t even close anymore.

  A week had passed since I’d found Lorelei hanging in that room and things had just gotten darker.

  I stared at the screen of my laptop and the diminishing figures in all my bank accounts. Gregory Lansford will have financially ruined me, completely and totally, by the end of the month. He knew I had something to do with his daughter’s death, but had yet to find any evidence that I was to blame and neither had the authorities. Hawkes had warned me right at the beginning, but my heart had overruled everything—even my own common sense.

  I regarded what was left of my kingdom and sighed. My business was dissolving, the Necromancers and Royal Blood were already eating me alive and my job in the City had been terminated, effective immediately. I had nothing left. I was a shell.

  None of it meant anything without Lorelei.

  Closing the laptop, I crossed the room to the landscape painting on the far wall. It was a covering for my safe and I pressed the button that was concealed on the side of the frame. It swung open, revealing the sleek, black piece of hardware set into the wall behind. Pressing in the code, there was an electronic beep and the mechanism clicked.

  Opening the door, I cleared the entire thing out, shoving the contents
haphazardly into a black leather bag. Forged passports, about a million pounds in cash, the deeds to my properties. I commanded Hawkes to gather anything of value in the house and load it into one of the cars. He made sure to change the plates to ones that were clean. All that was left to do was to disappear before the police, or British Intelligence, rolled up with guns blazing.

  I sensed Hawkes hovering at the door and glanced up.

  “Everything is organized,” he said. “Nothing remains to link you with your operation or—”

  I held up my hand, not wanting to hear her name. “Good.”

  “Do you need anything else?”

  “No.”

  He shifted from foot to foot and clasped his hands in front of him. I hadn’t thought about what Hawkes would do next, I was hardly capable of anything myself at that moment. Every breath was painful and every thought was of her. She was in my dreams…and my nightmares.

  “You can either come with me, or go your own way,” I said, my voice still sounding far away. “I won’t hold it against you if you choose to disassociate yourself from me.”

  Hawkes shook his head. “You've always been good to me, Vaughn, despite the things that we do. I’m coming with you.”

  “I have to start over from scratch,” I went on. “Make a new name, become a darker version of myself. There is no coming back from that.”

  “Anything for Miss Lansford.”

  I frowned.

  “I saw the way she changed you,” he explained. “I quite liked her.”

  I shook my head, my heart twisting. If I listened really carefully, I could almost hear her laughing at the absurdity of Hawkes being fond of someone.

  “We will leave within the hour, then,” I declared, turning back to the bag.

  “Where are we going, Sir?”

  That was the billion dollar question. I didn’t know, but as long as it was far away from here, then anywhere was good. In time, I’d come back a stronger version of myself and make Sykes pay. I’d bathe in his blood and laugh at his tormented soul. I’d make him feel everything she did before she died.

  Striding toward the door, I said, “Someplace dark, Hawkes. Someplace dark.”

  Twenty-One

  Vaughn

  I couldn’t even attend her funeral.

  I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

  I didn’t have a chance to mourn.

  I left Hawkes to prepare for our departure across the border into Europe and I’d ventured off alone to be a sick, sad voyeur. I sat in my car, watching some unknown man lower her casket into the ground. They couldn’t see me behind the tinted windows, but I could see them. I could see them all.

  I saw Gregory Lansford standing at the front of his Lorelei's casket, his arm around his wife, their black clad bodies overcome with grief as they buried their daughter. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything.

  I didn’t hate Gregory Lansford. How could I? He was only making good on his promise and protecting his little girl. I didn’t hate him. I hated Sykes.

  Her family and friends surrounded the somber scene, heads bowed as what was left of the woman I loved was lowered into the earth. I saw a lot of things, watching over that scene, but the one thing I did notice were the men lingering in the shadows. The men watching and waiting to see if the man who lead her down that dark path would dare to show his face.

  It didn’t matter who they were, if they were Lansford’s men or Necromancers, it didn’t matter one bit. I could end it all right now. Just step out of the car and they’d take me out. A bullet to the head and my suffering would be over.

  What was the use in that? Sykes would still be out there and Lorelei would go unavenged.

  I watched as handfuls of earth were thrown into the grave and onto her casket.

  Ashes to ashes.

  I turned they keys in the ignition, bringing the engine to life and drove away, leaving everything behind.

  There was nothing else I could do.

  Twenty-Two

  Vaughn

  Five years later…

  The man that hung in front of me had long stopped screaming. Not because he wanted to, but because he was no longer able.

  I hated when they thrashed. Hanging by their ankles from the ceiling, they wiggled around like a fish out of water and it made my work so much harder, so I fixed their hands to a chain imbedded into the floor. This guy had been a thrasher.

  Nobody knew the real reason they called me The Hangman, only Hawkes, and that was because he’d been there when I’d found Lorelei hanging in that room, all those years ago. Her name still scarred me deep, but it no longer incapacitated me. I took my grief and I channeled it into something a lot more productive.

  The man’s breath was bubbling in his chest, which meant he was on the way out. There was blood in his lungs. Fuck. I knelt in front of him and regarded my handiwork, the knife I’d used to cut him open dangling in my right hand and covered in blood. Exposed muscle, sinew and bone. That ought to be enough to get my point across.

  Never fuck with The Hangman.

  If you had of asked me five years ago if this is where I might end up, I would’ve laughed. What a fucking joke. Sykes had created the man I was by taking the love of my life away from me. He took her before we even had the chance to be happy together. He took everything, but I had it back—everything but Lorelei.

  What he didn’t know, was that by doing business with The Hangman, he was doing business with the man he destroyed. He helped build up all that he and Gregory Lansford had taken from me, and then some. It would be a warm day in hell when he was no longer useful to me. He would hang and bleed the same way he’d made Lorelei suffer.

  The door opened behind me and I closed my eyes, thoroughly annoyed at being interrupted. The part where the life slipped from their eyes was the best bit. Someone had taught me that a long time ago.

  “Vaughn?”

  “What the fuck is it, Hawkes?” I snapped. Hawkes, who was fucking loyal to the ends of my insanity.

  “A protocol has been activated.”

  I rose to my feet, blood dripping from the tip of my knife and I turned to face him, suddenly curious. “Really? Which one?”

  “The Black Horse.”

  A slow, lazy smile tugged at my lips. So, Xavier Blood and his bit on the side had come out of hiding to play. No doubt he was helping her go after Sykes and since he was cast off from Royal Blood, wanted a little push in the right direction. A warm feeling of satisfaction spread across my chest. This was going to be very interesting and extremely profitable for The Hangman.

  “Ready for some fun, Hawkes?” I asked, setting the knife down on the table, my quarry hanging in the middle of the room, forgotten.

  Hawkes eyed me, his grin reflecting mine. “Always.”

  Nothing is ever what it seems…

  Devil’s Blood (Royal Blood #3)

  Expected Release: TBA, 2015

  We would embrace the darkness together…or not at all.

  Xavier Blood is a man adrift. A dangerous man without purpose is a lethal cocktail for disaster.

  Mercy Reid has her revenge, but it’s not what her heart desires.

  After everything he’s been through, X doesn’t want to know where he came from, let alone who he was. Mercy has become his life, his anchor, his everything, so why should it matter?

  Mercy thinks X is delaying the inevitable and pushes him to understand the thing he struggles with the most—his identity—but it might be one push too far in the wrong direction.

  Who is Xavier Blood? Only one man has the answer and it’s the man Mercy wants to meet the least. The more X withdraws into his broken mind, the more desperate she becomes to save him, even if it means coming face to face with the man who tortured and conditioned her love to be a cold hearted killer.

  The Watchman has the answers, but are they the ones she wants to hear?

  Warning:

  If you like long walks on the beach and cuddling teddy
bears, Devil’s Blood is NOT for you.

  If you like clandestine love affairs and an alpha male who’d tear the world apart to save your soul, Devil’s Blood IS for you.

  You have been warned.

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  About the Author

  Amity Cross isn't her real name. That's no secret.

  She is the author of wicked stories about rock stars looking for redemption, gritty romances featuring MMA fighters and dark tales of forbidden romance. She loves to write about screwed up relationships and kick ass female leads that don't take s**t lying down.

  Amity lives in a leafy country town in southern Australia and can be found chained to her desk, held at ransom by her characters.

  Don't send help. She likes it.

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  AmityCrossWrites.com

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