Ashes

By Val St. Crowe

Clarke Gannon can longer deny her feelings for dragon-shifter Naelen Spencer. Unfortunately, her feelings for gargoyle Logan Gray haven’t gone away. A harrowing four months held captive by the psychotic vampire Ronan Cunningham has left the three bonded by their shared trauma and a thirst for vengeance against the vampire. Clarke can’t choose between Naelen or Logan, and the three are inextricably tangled together.

Cunningham now has seven of nine very powerful magical objects. He can’t get the other two or he’ll be unstoppable. So, together, Clarke and her guys go looking for one of the remaining objects in an old southern mansion complete with gargoyle servants who turn to stone on turrets and eerie noises that come from the attic.

They aren’t there long before they’re face-to-face with danger. The Brotherhood rides in on motorcycles with guns. Rogue dragons swoop in through windows. And they hear that a reprobate mage is lurking outside, eager for some vengeance of his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. J. Chambers
• Release date: Jul 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370505647

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I woke up in a cold sweat. I’d been dreaming of Cunningham, of his voice in my ear, whispering orders that my body had to obey because he had compelled me, and I couldn’t fight.

I opened my eyes to see that I was lying on a bed in the bedroom on Naelen Spencer’s private jet. Six months ago, I’d left a bar in Sea City with Naelen and Logan Gray. We’d been intent on finding Ronan Cunningham, a vampire who was in possession of powerful magical objects, who was very possibly the worst person I had ever met, and killing him.

We’d found Cunningham, eventually, but we hadn’t managed to kill him. Not yet.

The door to the bedroom was ajar. I could hear voices floating back to me from the other part of the plane.

Then I saw Logan walking past the door. Logan was a gargoyle. He was living stone, chiseled and firm. Very attractive. Naelen was attractive too. He was a rich dragon shifter. He used to say arrogant things to me, make me crazy mad. But lately, well, most of the arrogance seemed to have left him. We were all beaten down and tired.

Before all this got started, you said you’d kill Cunningham and then you’d go back to the way your life was before. That you’d leave Clarke alone, Logan was saying. I assume that’s changed?

Leave Clarke with you, you mean, came Naelen’s voice.

No, I don’t mean that. Logan stopped pacing, standing directly in front of the door, but facing away from me, so all I could see were his huge, stone-colored wings. I don’t want you gone. And we both know Clarke doesn’t want that.

Do we? Naelen’s face appeared over Logan’s shoulder. I caught a glimpse of his piercing blue eyes. And then I pretended to be asleep, shutting my own eyes. She hasn’t said anything in hours. Not since he let us go. She’s practically catatonic.

She needs rest, said Logan. She’ll be fine. She’s tough.

And so are we, I suppose, said Naelen. We’re all tough. But I have to tell you… I don’t feel fine right now.

You will, Logan insisted.

Don’t, said Naelen.

A pause.

I opened my eyes a slit to see that Logan had a hand on Naelen’s shoulder. Naelen was shrugging him off.

Don’t touch you? said Logan softly, removing his hand.

It’s only that it brings it back, said Naelen.

Right. Logan shoved his hands into his pockets.

They both turned to look at me.

I shut my eyes again.

I need to kill Cunningham, said Naelen in a quiet voice. I need to kill him more than anything on earth right now.

We all need to kill him, said Logan darkly. But we can’t force Clarke to go back to him.

I wasn’t saying we go back, said Naelen. We just got away, and we were helpless against him.

Four months ago, we got a line on Cunningham and went in to try to take him down. At the time, we had three of the nine magical objects, one for each of us, which should have meant that we were impervious to Cunningham’s compulsion. Cunningham had two power-enhancing objects, the knife and the bell. We had the stylus.

Specifically, Naelen had the stylus. He’s a dragon shifter and therefore the most magic of all of us. Logan and I could only do magic with talismans. Logan, being a gargoyle, was a lot more durable than me, however.

We didn’t count on Cunningham having a compelled army. Nothing organized, mind you. He had compelled any person or creature in the radius of his power to come and try to kill us. Even with the objects, we were overpowered.

Cunningham had some flunkie get to me, strip me of my object and talisman, and put a gun to my head. Naelen and Logan did whatever he said after that.

Cunningham had been pulling that trick to manipulate us a few times too many, if you asked me.

Anyway, then he kept us captive for four months. We were his… toys… pets… playthings. He compelled us, forced us to do whatever he wanted us to do for his amusement. It went on and on, day after day, week after week.

And then today… this morning… I guess he got bored with us. We’d been carted around with him to several different remote mansions all over the U.S. Most recently, we’d been somewhere in the northwest. We woke up in our playroom, and there was no compulsion. There was no Cunningham.

So, we ran. We ran until we found someone who’d loan us their phone, and Naelen called his pilot. And then we were on the plane, flying away from all of it, as if it had been one, long terrible dream.

"So, then what were you saying?" said Logan.

I wasn’t making a suggestion. I was only saying that I want him dead.

I opened my eyes again, peered at both of them. They were so attractive. And that thought sent involuntary shudders through me. How was it, that after everything, I still wanted them? Shouldn’t that part of me be turned off, destroyed or something? Apparently not.

I want him dead too, said Logan.

Right, said Naelen. So, we… recover, whatever that means, and then we make a plan, and we take him out.

We? said Logan. And by we, you mean?

Us, said Naelen. The three of us. Or if Clarke is too messed up, then just the two of us, then.

So, you want me around?

Naelen eyed him. "You don’t want me around? Then he looked down at his feet. I would understand why you wouldn’t—"

No, I didn’t say that, said Logan. Of course I want you around. I’d say we’re both pretty screwed up, but there’s a bond between us. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to try and break that bond or not.

No, said Naelen. No, for better or worse, this is what we are now. He walked away from the doorway, and I couldn’t see him anymore, only hear his voice. It’s a little funny. I used to be so obsessed with controlling my life. I was afraid of loving Clarke, because that would make me out of control. But once Cunningham was completely controlling me, loving her was the one thing I could cling to.

We both love Clarke. Logan was gazing in on me.

I shut my eyes again.

Yes, said Naelen’s voice. We do.

* * *

Eden Hudson was giving us all hugs. We were so worried. We haven’t heard from any of you since January, not since we gave you the stylus and the pendant. We thought you were… She lowered her voice. That you might be dead.

We’re alive, said Naelen.

Yeah, said Logan. Not dead.

But their voices were wooden.

And I still couldn’t find mine. I knew I needed to speak, that my silence was worrying both of them, but it seemed easier this way. I’d had so little ability to make choices for four months, and now, I could choose everything. I chose not to speak. For now, anyway.

Eden’s face creased in concern. What happened?

Naelen and Logan exchanged a glance.

Then Eden did a double take. Logan? It’s day time.

Oh, right, said Logan. He got annoyed with me turning into stone during the day. Limited his playtime. So, he compelled me not to turn.

He? Cunningham? said Eden.

Yeah, said Naelen. He kept us captive.

Eden shook her head. How does that even work, Logan? How can you not turn to stone? All gargoyles turn to stone.

Logan made a face. It’s like, when he compelled me, I could see the process that I went through in my body every dawn, and I could resist it. And even though his compulsion has worn off, I still remember how to do it.

Could you teach other gargoyles? asked Eden.

I don’t know, said Logan.

Eden chewed on her lip. What do you mean by playtime?

Naelen and Logan fell silent.

Eden looked at us, gazing into each of our eyes, one after the other. Are you guys all right? she whispered.

More silence.

You want some wine? she said.

We were drinking on the plane, said Naelen, but… yeah, maybe, more alcohol is definitely the way to go.

She ushered us into the living room of her house. Eden Hudson was a member of a polyamorous family. She and her wife Jocelyn were both married to a guy named Brian, and they had two toddlers together. Both of the kids were apparently out with Jocelyn and Brian for the afternoon. Eden had been alone in the house, catching up on some housework, but she was happy to set it aside to talk to us instead.

I sat down in the middle of the couch. The guys sat down on opposite sides of me, so that I was between them. I felt my breath hitch.

They both looked at me.

Clarke? said Naelen.

I tried to smile at him. It felt like a wobbly smile.

You know, maybe you might want to tell us what happened when he took you away for that week, Logan said in a soft voice. Or maybe you want to tell Eden?

I folded my hands together in my lap. Ah, yes. The week with Cunningham. About a month and a half into our stay, he’d taken me away from the guys and kept me all by myself. I hadn’t much talked about it. But then they hadn’t talked about what he did to them while I was away. When I came back, though, that’s when Cunningham really let loose with us. That was the turning point.

I mean, Logan was still talking, if it would be easier to talk to another woman or something.

Eden came back into the room carrying two bottles of wine. One was white, one was red. She set them down on an end table next to a love seat that faced the couch the rest of us were sitting on. White or red?

Either, said Logan.

Doesn’t matter, said Naelen.

Eden wrinkled up her nose at the wine bottles, trying to decide. She grasped the necks of both of them. You know, my friend was with Cunningham—the one who stole the pendant from him—and she never much talked about what it was like being there, but she was a blood slave, and we all know that sometimes vampires make their blood slaves do things… She let go of the bottles of wine and looked up at me. Clarke, you haven’t said a word.

I licked my lips. I’d prefer white wine. My voice sounded as if I hadn’t used it in decades, not hours.

Okay, said Eden.

What he made us do… I hesitated. I think it was worse for the guys than it was for me.

And they both stiffened next to me, almost at the same time.

I almost reached for their hands, to comfort them, but then it all seemed wrong somehow. I wasn’t sure how to behave now that Cunningham wasn’t controlling my actions anymore. So I only clasped my own hands together, and I didn’t look at Naelen or at Logan.

White wine, said Eden. Right. She twisted the corkscrew into the bottle of white.

It’s not important anyway, I said. What’s important is that Cunningham has the objects we took. All three of them. He’s got the comb, the pendant, and the stylus. And he already had the knife, the bell, and the star. That’s six objects.

Eden yanked the cork out of the bottle. He’s got the arrowhead too.

What? said Logan. But we took that from him.

Well, he got it back, said Eden. While you guys were gone, the protector who had it turned up dead. The object was gone.

No, said Naelen. That means he’s got seven of them.

I know. Eden took a deep breath. I forgot the wine glasses. She disappeared.

Well, if he gets the other two, he’ll have them all, said Naelen. Where are they?

Eden came back holding four wine glasses by the stems. She set them upright on the end table and began to pour. The scarab is safe within an ancient magical order. I gave it to them to keep it from Cunningham. They’re very strong. He won’t be able to get it from them. And the cup? Well, no one knows where that is. It hasn’t been seen in nearly a century.

So, said Logan, we need to find the cup before Cunningham does.

What you need to do, said Eden, handing us each a glass of wine, is take some time off, if you’re asking me. I think after being held prisoner by a madman for four months, you deserve it.

Maybe a little time, said Naelen. I have a lake house down south. Nice and secluded, right on the water. We could go there.

That might be good for Clarke, said Logan.

You’d come too, said Naelen.

Logan nodded. Sure.

Guys, I’m fine, I said. I’m really fine.

Yeah, that’s why you wouldn’t talk to us for the entire day, said Naelen, his voice an annoyed rumble.

I’m fine, I said again, repeating it like a mantra.

We all sipped our wine.

We’re sorry about the objects, I said to Eden. You entrusted them to us, and—

Cunningham is powerful, she said. You did the best you could. No need to apologize.

Naelen cleared his throat. Could we, um, change the subject for a minute?

Eden raised her eyebrows. Okay, sure.

You and your… people, said Naelen. Jocelyn and Brian. You guys all are… He mashed his fingers together, showing them intermingled.

Logan sat up straight. Right, yeah, how does it all work exactly?

Eden sat down on the love seat, clutching her wine. You want to talk about this? Right now?

Both of the guys nodded.

Unless it’s too personal, said Naelen. If you don’t want to get into it, you don’t have to.

She laughed a little, setting down her wine. I don’t mind. I’m an open book. Um, yeah, we’re all… She mimicked Naelen’s gesture.

Do you…? Logan seemed to be searching for words. Do all three of you do… things together at the same time?

Eden picked up her wine and took a sip. We have, sure, but not always. We think the the individual pair bonds within our relationship are important, and so sometimes there’s intimacy between just Brian and me, or just me and Jocelyn, or just Jocelyn and Brian.

The guys both nodded again.

Naelen took a big gulp of his wine. Do you have to do it that way?

You? said Eden. Who do you mean by you?

Guys… I said, but my voice came out without much volume and none of them seemed to have heard.

Hypothetically, Logan told his glass of wine. Just in theory.

Eden leaned forward. What happened to you all when Cunningham held you captive?

I gave her a wry smile. Oh, I don’t think it’s that hard to put the pieces together, is it?

She sat back.

We were all quiet.

Logan ran a finger around the rim of his wine glass. It started to sing. He stopped.

Eden set her wine glass down. There aren’t rules to polyamory. It doesn’t ‘have’ to be done any way at all. So, if you three wanted to form a relationship, and intimate bonds were between Clarke and Naelen and Clarke and Logan and not between Naelen and Logan, that would be fine. It would be up to you how you wanted to organize it. The important thing would be that you all sat down together and figured out what you wanted out of the relationship. That you made ground rules for yourselves that you were all comfortable with.

I drained my glass. I don’t think I’m comfortable with this entire conversation, I muttered. Can I have more wine?

The guys both looked at me.

Eden furrowed her brow. I think you probably have a lot to work through. You need to talk to each other.

Since no one was refilling my glass, I got up and crossed the room. I poured more wine into my glass.

So, we could… switch off? said Logan.

It doesn’t have to be at the same time? said Naelen.

My hand started to shake. It was spilling wine all over Eden’s carpet. I set the glass down on the end table.

No, it doesn’t have to be, said Eden. She looked up at me. Clarke, are you all right?

I walked out of the room.

CHAPTER TWO

I pretended to sleep for the plane ride to Naelen’s vacation home. And when we arrived, I didn’t say much. I gave myself an impromptu tour of the house. I’d only ever been to Naelen’s house in Sea City, which was large and opulent. This house was much more cozy. It was only one story, and it contained three small-ish bedrooms, each stuffed with a big king-sized bed and its own private bathroom, and a kitchen/living room that was divided off by a marble breakfast bar. It was immaculately and tastefully decorated, like something out of a magazine.

I claimed a room as my own that had a view of the lake. It also opened out onto the house’s wraparound porch.

The porch was the real selling point of the house, if you asked me. It was deep, stocked with rocking chairs and lounge chairs. There was a swing on one corner. In the back, it had a built-in picnic table next to a huge, state-of-the-art gas grill. Near my room, however, was a big hammock, complete with a pillow. I imagined myself lying down in that hammock and reading trashy romance novels—

No. Not trashy romance novels. Definitely not that.

Cozy murder mysteries, then. I would find of those series with twenty-books about a woman who solved murders while baking cupcakes or something and then I would read each book, one after the other, and I would stay on that hammock for weeks.

Logan was in the doorway to my room.

I turned away from my view of the lake and the porch and the hammock. I tried another smile. This one didn’t seem quite as wobbly.

Naelen’s going to the grocery store, said Logan. You want to go?

Are you going? I asked.

Maybe, he said.

I’ll stay here, I said.

He was quiet.

I crossed the room to face him. You guys should have fun, I guess. I don’t know if I’m up for crowds.

I could stay with you.

Nah, I’ll be all right. I cast my glance to the corner of my room where I’d set my bow and arrows. It was my spare set, the one I kept on Naelen’s plane. Cunningham had taken the other set. It was comforting to have my weapons, however.

Logan leaned against the door frame. Are you trying to avoid me? If you don’t want me around, if you want it to only be you and him—

I’m not trying to avoid you. Silently, I added, not just you. Maybe I wanted to avoid them both.

Clarke. He gave his head a nearly imperceptible shake. I know you. You’re not okay.

I folded my arms over my chest. And you’re doing peachy?

He didn’t answer.

Naelen appeared behind Logan. What’s going on? You coming to the store, Clarke?

I think I’ll stay here, I said. Maybe I’ll lay out on the hammock for a while.

It’s a nice hammock, said Naelen.

Looks nice, I said.

A long pause.

Well, said Naelen, if you don’t come along, you’ll have to be satisfied with whatever I buy.

You do a lot of grocery shopping? I