Ravenous Brutality

By Michelle O'Neill

For Gypsy Theron, her life seems to be spiraling out of control. As her life-mate and husband, General Kharon, struggles with a dangerous infection of Serillian Fever, an epidemic of the disease has also broken out. The possibility that Gypsy might lose Kharon plunges her into a devastating depression that threatens to swallow her mind and soul. As Kharon grows sicker, so does Gypsy, and a new, terrifying truth emerges. It is becoming increasingly evident that General Kharon might be the one thing that could finally destroy her. Could their intimate connection through the Primal Fever ultimately bring death to them both?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: May 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781611604757

Book preview

SIREN WARRIOR BOOK 10:

RAVENOUS BRUTALITY

by

Michelle Marquis & Lindsey Bayer

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

Published by

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

Copyright Ó 2013 by Michelle Marquis & Lindsey Bayer

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN 978-1-61160-475-7

Credits

Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

Editor: Sara Kent

Printed in the United States of America

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Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

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Siren Warrior Series

Incubus Nights

Android’s Kiss

Midnight Becomes You

The Love Machine

Over the Moon

Machine Lust: Black Copper

Dedication

                    To all the series fans

Chapter 1

The sickness was growing, building like a terrible storm. Gypsy rode through the sparse forest next to her husband, Kharon, feeling the illness expanding within him, polluting his health. The welcome warmth of the low lands was the only thing that offered her any solace.

Their band had been riding for over a week, finally they were almost home. High Lord Chang had mapped them a faster, albeit more treacherous route back to the empire. The passage had taken them along the edge of icy cliffs and through rapid rivers but they were able to cut a number of days off a journey that should have taken well over two weeks. With every passing minute, Kharon grew sicker, weaker.

Gypsy slid her mind inside his and felt the heaviness in his chest and the ache in his spine. Whenever someone questioned him he said he was feeling fine and redirected them with a dismissive joke.

But Gypsy knew better.

She could feel the invading force raging inside of him. If she surrendered completely to their connection she was quickly overcome by the severity of his illness. Her lungs felt as though they were filling with molten metal forcing her to breathe in short pants and her stomach twisted and churned with an acrid queasiness. Dr. Sam had given him some broad spectrum antibiotics to help stave off any associated opportunistic infections but he didn’t have anything specific to Serillian Fever. The drugs seemed to have helped though, because when they stopped to make camp Kharon would get up the next day feeling a little better than when he went to bed. Not her though. Each morning she awoke, curled up in his arms, weak and depressed, strangled by the sadness of a stolen future. The happiness she was supposed to feel from finally being able to hold and be close to him was opaqued by the unspoken truth of his fate.

Gypsy was angry that they had made the trip at all. The morning of their departure had started with a big fat argument between her and Kharon. She insisted that the long ride home would be too much for him and had pleaded with him to stay put and have her mother come to the Triumvirate’s kingdom. But her husband was so incredibly stubborn sometimes. He flatly refused and told her that he wasn’t going to allow her mother to be removed from where she was needed just to care for one patient.

Everyone in the group knew an epidemic was coming and all hands were needed back home. He put an end to the argument by telling her that he was going home with or without her. Then he grabbed his gear and walked out the door of their guest room. Gypsy followed but didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. Her father, General Gavin Theron, had sent them to the back of the group as a precaution against contaminating others because he too knew what was happening. Pretty soon, everyone would know that whatever Caraculla had infected Kharon with was taking its awful course. Gypsy was so sad and desperate she thought she was losing her mind. Since there was no fear of infection for them because they were not AEssyrian; her brother and Kahlee would venture to the back and gossip with them. Gypsy didn’t feel much like socializing though. But she knew the casual banter made Kharon feel better so she was grateful for the visitations. Even Gavin rode back a few times to check on them.

For his part, Caraculla seemed annoyingly pleased with himself. He was bound with his hands shackled to his waist and a Tantalum spit guard secured to his face, but he’d still twist around in his saddle to catch a glimpse of Kharon several yards behind him. His eyes squinted with laughter and the joy on his face revolted her. It took every ounce of control Gypsy had not to draw her saber and hack his head off. She could give a shit that he was defenseless. In a million years she would have never believed that she could ever hate him so much as she did right now. The potent mixture of sorrow and fury waved through her just below the surface of her skin threatening to break through to the outside in either an eruption of violence or hysteria. The realization of what he’d done still left a resonation of bewilderment and she felt partially responsible for Kharon’s death sentence.

Kharon’s chest rattled as he coughed up something and spit it into the bushes. Despite the cool morning breezes he was sweating more than she remembered and his hands held a slight tremor as he gripped his reins. Those beautiful mismatched eyes were moist and runny but held the staunch determination he was famous for. Gypsy knew he was going to ride all the way back to the empire without any assistance. I want you to begin working on close combat when we get back. Your hand to hand skills are very weak. We’ll need to develop some strategies to compensate for your lack of size and strength.

Gypsy gave a short nod, too worried to speak or argue. After several minutes she said, Why don’t we stop and take a rest?

Kharon frowned. No. What am I, your grandmother?

She couldn’t help it, she smiled at that one. No, you’re my stubborn, pigheaded husband. I just thought you looked a little pale and could use a break.

That’s not it. He gave her an angry look and tapped a finger against his temple. Don’t give me that innocent crap. You’ve been coming into my head. Do you think I can’t feel you?

I’m just worried.

Kharon reined his hyperia up and waited for the rest of their group to continue on ahead. Gypsy waited with him. When everyone was out of earshot, he said, I’m not going to survive this, Gypsy, and everyone knows it.

She was so stunned she was sure her jaw had dropped to the ground. What is he saying? You don’t know that for sure. As soon as we get you back to the empire my mother can start treating you. She’ll come up with something.

Kharon urged his mount forward and gave her a sober stare. I wish it were that easy. I’m one of the first infected, I’ll be one of the first to die. That’s the way this disease runs. I was a very young man during the last outbreak but I remember everything. You should prepare yourself now.

A terrible agony sat in her chest and her eyes stung. But no tears came, yet. "Prepare myself? How exactly do I prepare myself for something like this? Don’t you dare fucking quit on me you son-of-a-bitch. I am not going to give up on you nor am I going to listen to this crap. So just shut up or you can ride back here by yourself."

There are accounts set up, money set aside for you and my former wives. I want you to use that money for training, okay? I also left you—

Waving her hand at him she looked away from him shaking her head while squeezing her eyes shut. Don’t…please stop it.

Kharon reined up his mount, jumped off, and leaned down purging several times on the side of the trail. No warning, he just got sick that fast. Gypsy was about to dismount too when he held his hand up to stop her. I’m all right. He stood up straight, dragged the sleeve of his tunic across his mouth, and then mounted back up. She heard a heavy, raspy sigh squeeze from his chest with the effort. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together. It would have been nice to have a family of our own someday.

His words were like knives stripping her skin. Gypsy thought her heart was going climb right up her throat and explode. Tears threatened to flow from her eyes as her sinuses burned. You are really starting to piss me off with this. You’re not going to die, Kharon. The words were said with more conviction than she felt. So just stop talking about it.

It would be wise for you to get the Dissolution of Marriage paperwork from the clerk’s office as soon as possible so I can give you your freedom. But don’t wait too long because I probably won’t be able to sign anything by the end of the week.

The tears finally made their escape and rolled down her cheeks unchecked. Why was he saying these horrible things to her? Why was he trying to hurt her so badly? I already told you I don’t want that.

You should rethink that decision, Gypsy. I could be very ill for a long time before—

Please, Kharon. Please stop, her voice exhaled in a defeated whisper.

His frown deepened and her heart ached even more. I’m not saying these things to hurt you. I’m saying them because they are facts. I know what I’m talking about. Almost no one survives Serillian Fever.

Gypsy twisted sideways in her saddle to face him. I already told you my mother can heal you. I know she can.

She might be able to save the others, but she won’t be able to save me. I’ve already got symptoms. It’s too late for me.

She turned to face forward wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. I’m serious, Kharon. You really need to shut up now. I can’t take much more of this.

May I say just one more thing?

Gypsy sighed finally getting her tears under control. If you must.

Sweat ran down the sides of his face and he looked even paler. I love you, Gypsy. I love you more than any woman I’ve ever been with and I don’t regret one moment of our lives together. You’ve made every ounce of suffering I’ve endured in my life worth it and I would do it all again ten thousand fold just to have made it to this point. You’re everything a man could dream of and I hope you find love again because you deserve it.

That did it. Her fragile control shattered and the tears returned. They flowed freely from her eyes, down her face, and dripped into streams running down her armor. And this time she couldn’t stop it and didn’t even try. So instead she rode on and silently wept all the way home.

Chapter 2

When the clinic doors emitted their customary hiss as they slid open Harlan looked up and was so overjoyed to see her husband back safe that she could barely contain herself. Just as quickly all of that warm, happy emotion vanished when she watched who walked in behind him escorted by two guards.

Caraculla.

The instant she set eyes on him, she was furious. Her reaction surprised her because she normally didn’t have such strong emotional responses to others. But this time it was personal because Caraculla had not only attempted to sexually assault her but he’d also threatened to spit on her daughter, Missy.

Once again Harlan was eternally grateful for Desmond’s impeccable timing during her time of need. That’s twice now he’d saved her ass; the first being when he’d found her near death on a river bank after some thugs had abducted her. The anger she harbored over Caraculla’s threats were matched only by the anger she felt at him for choosing to embrace his weakness for narcotics. She was so sure he’d gotten control over his addiction and thought he’d matured past all of this over the years but apparently she was wrong. Like most addicts, the minute they encounter life’s difficulties they retreat to their familiar refuge. It was foolish of her to think Caraculla was going to be the exception. Harlan was sure that Gypsy’s marriage to Kharon, coupled with Caraculla’s demotion and exile to the frontier duty station was fertile ground for his old demons to emerge and prosper.

Without a word Gavin handed her a piece of paper that she immediately recognized as a medical requisition form. Caraculla’s name was at the top and her husband’s signature was at the bottom. The request was to administer a mild tranquilizer to the Colonel so it wouldn’t be so dangerous switching out the borrowed spit guard with one that fit him properly. Harlan didn’t speak or even make eye contact with him. She looked at Gavin, nodded and walked back to an exam room where she grabbed a pre-loaded syringe from a small wooden storage box filled to the top with them. Tranquilizers were a common fixture during the treatment of injuries; severe or not. Sometimes an AEssyrian warrior could be unpredictable in his response to some pain or discomfort during treatment. After she had almost been mauled a few times while doing some stitch work, she kept a cache of them handy just in case.

Harlan returned to the lobby where she’d left the four of them standing and pulled up the sleeve of Caraculla’s tunic. After injecting him in the bicep she took two steps back with her arms folded and waited the forty-five or so seconds it took for the sedative to kick in.

His head lolled forward a couple of times and his inner eyelid pulled halfway over his green eyes. The guards hesitated glancing nervously at each other. Oh for heaven’s sake. Harlan desperately wanted Caraculla out of her clinic and away from her. Stepping forward with intense purpose Harlan reached behind the Colonel’s head and unsnapped the spit guard handing it back to her husband who took it and gave her the new one. Once she’d secured the new spit guard, Gavin ordered the guards to place the Colonel in one of the Emperor’s long term cells. They weren’t as rough as most cells and had a proper toilet, sink, and a regular bed, unlike the steel or wooden bench normal cells had. These cells were usually reserved for nobles or high ranking officers. Harlan knew when Megolyth found out about Caraculla’s new quarters he would pitch a fit. Though she hated to admit it; she would be on the Emperor’s side on this one. She didn’t think Caraculla deserved the special treatment but then Gavin didn’t know about everything he had done. While Gavin finished with the guards, she retreated to her office and sat at her desk to review some labs while she waited for him to join her.

Gavin entered a few minutes later and closed the door. He settled into the chair across from hers and propped his boots on the desk. Desmond said something happened between you and Caraculla. I want to know what he did. The rich baritone of his voice held that commanding authority that wasn’t asking her to tell him what happened; it was demanding that she tell him. It was spoken like an order that he’d give to one of his men.

Harlan was afraid of this. There was no way to tell Gavin what happened without detonating his temper and probably causing irreparable damage to his relationship with Caraculla. But on the other hand, she didn’t dare sugar coat things either. Gavin would know immediately if she was withholding information which would only make things worse. His mind would become a breeding ground for paranoid ulterior motives.

She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. She chewed her lower lip and took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Caraculla came to see