Bleeding Love
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About this ebook
In the year 2112 and civilization is in ruins. The world has fallen from war. People live in designated cities.
Ares has one mission: to destroy the Overlords, the men who killed his family. To accomplish this, he is ruthless. Unforgiving.
Faith has grown up in a convent. She's heard what the world is like, but now she'll experience it first hand. Saved by Ares, he will demand her utter submission as payment.
Beth D. Carter
I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extrordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on Facebook or Twitter. To subscribe to my newsletter, please visit my website: www.writtenbutterfly.com
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Bleeding Love - Beth D. Carter
Published by Evernight Publishing ® at Smashwords
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Beth D. Carter
ISBN: 978-1-77233-307-7
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JC Chute
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
Thanks so much to CR Moss for helping me with this story. You are an awesome friend and fellow author.
Thanks to the family of Evernight Publishing, and to Sour Cherry for an awesome cover!
Ek elska þik, Eiríkr hinn rauði.
BLEEDING LOVE
Beth D. Carter
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Year 2112
The sun sat high in the sky, scorching the land with each burning breath. Ares stopped his motorcycle upon a high vantage point and sat, idling. Down below, a trailer made its way along the desolate road. For protection from the unwavering rays, he’d worn a leather riding jacket––which now only made him hotter. He ignored the trickle of sweat that slid down the side of his face.
The trailer careened down the desert highway, and its haphazard driving bespoke of either desperation or fear. Blacked-out windows suggested something valuable inside, which made the people fleeing very stupid. The last thing to do out here would be to advertise the fact that something of worth was being transported. As he wondered what it might be, while at the same time trying to gauge if it was even worth finding out, five motorcycles zoomed behind the trailer, gaining fast. Ares had one second of debate before deciding if they were friend or foe. Each biker sported a white Mohawk streaking down the center of their helmets, designating they were part of the Overlords gang. Foe. That alone was enough to get involved. Ares started up his bike and hit the throttle, accelerating down from the vantage point of the rocky cliff. With the hover mode engaged, he zoomed over the land, hitting the only road that ran through this part of the area, and shot forward. He’d long ago modified his bike to be faster, tougher, than most others. These assholes didn’t stand a chance outrunning him.
By the time he caught up, the trailer lay on its side with thick plumes of white smoke billowing from inside, leaving Ares to suspect it came from smog grenades instead of fire. The two drivers lay dead upon the ground, their life’s blood already baking in the sun overhead.
Two marauders emerged from the trailer and blinked at him, seemingly confused. Ares fired his blaster in quick succession, hitting both. With mortal wounds, they fell to the ground before they could even figure out he wasn’t part of the gang. A third returned fire. Ares ducked as he brought his blaster up and fired rapidly…one, two…
The marauder hit the sandy earth and lay unmoving as half his face was blown away. Ares throttled close to the dead man and stared down. Hatred and disgust welled up inside him, and without hesitation, he spit on the corpse.
The dust plume of two motorcycles riding away floated in the air behind them and caught his attention. Ares gunned his own to follow. One bike was far ahead of him, and although he could easily overtake both, the second held a woman. She fought her captor like a hellcat, clearly not understanding the danger she presented if she caused the rider to crash. Ares had two options: Focus on the closer motorcycle and rescue the woman, or crash it to get both. He could clearly blow their engines with the firepower he had, even with the first being so far ahead, but if he did that, the woman might be hurt. His decision was made for him as the closer bike swerved. The woman fought the rider, and the biker punched her.
A murderous rage filled Ares. The Overlords were nothing but marauding scum, and he’d made it his life mission to destroy every single one of them.
Women were a precious commodity out here in the desert, and hurting one meant a death sentence to anyone who dared. Seeming to think he had the upper hand, the bandit pointed a blaster at Ares and fired. Ares ducked at the last second and the energy bolt flew by harmlessly. He pushed a button on his bike’s console and a laser gun rose, the targeting computer aiming for the back wheel. With one shot, he melted the rubber enough to slow the man down without flipping him. He easily overtook the biker until they rode side by side, and then he trained his own blaster on the rider, showing his intentions if he didn’t stop.
The rider sneered and just as Ares was getting ready to fire, the back tire wore out and popped. The bike’s safety lock kicked in and clamped down, causing the chopper to come to a jarring halt. The rider jumped from his bike and dragged the dazed woman with him. Ares also came to a stop but didn’t dismount. He kept his blaster trained on the bandit.
The motherfucker suddenly turned his weapon on the woman’s temple. Stop right there! I’ll kill her. I swear it!
The terrified face of the woman registered before Ares turned his attention to the bandit holding her. Let her go.
I’ll kill her!
You kill her and you’ll be breathing out of your forehead.
The woman’s stark eyes stayed trained on him, her gaze a piercing plea. He chanced another quick look at her. Big, green eyes stared back at him. The type of eyes one only sees in the beauty of nature, like sparkling emeralds, and they were a sledgehammer to his fucking libido. Eyes were the windows to the soul, and her trusting orbs held such power he momentarily forgot where they were for a nanosecond. The bandit’s grip around her throat tightened and she gasped for breath.
Ares stared at the man. Let her go and I’ll let you live.
He had never, ever, uttered that proposition before in his life––and it didn’t matter that it was a big fucking lie. Of course the dickwad couldn’t live.
Fuck you! Lay down your gun and give me your bike.
You can go as soon as you release her.
Instead, the bandit only tightened his grip more. The woman’s hands came up to try to pry the choking arm off her windpipe. She turned an ugly shade of red.
Okay,
Ares said. You win.
He held up his hands and let his gun fall limp around his trigger finger so the butt of the gun faced the man. When the bandit relaxed his arm, Ares depressed the trigger on the side of the gun. A small dart shot out of the butt handle and buried itself in the man’s arm. He stood for a second, looking at the dart, until he fell back with a thud. The woman toppled with him, under his dead weight.
Ares turned off the bike’s engine and the hover function cut out as the wheels came down. He engaged the kickstand and dismounted, shoving his blaster back into its holster. The woman pushed herself up on her arms, her white gown stained with dirt. He grasped her arm to help her up, and the turban she wore fell. A curtain of blonde hair tumbled down her back, capturing his attention. He couldn’t seem to look away from the long locks. His palms itched to touch the silky looking strands so he did, letting them glide through his fingers. She turned her head and their eyes met, held.