Inception: The Blood Court, #2

By S.A. Price, K. Margaret and Dagmar Avery

Things are heating up for House Blut. It's obvious someone is trying to ruin their business, and now, someone is trying to kill Nymea. But who? And why?

Mea's faith in her guard's ability to keep her safe is unaltered, and the mystery of the attacks deepen when she starts receiving gifts --- pieces of her past --- that both help and confound her. And with Faerie reemerging from its dormant state, old flames return and new experiences are on the horizon. Including new guard and a new lady-in-waiting.

But the threat is there, however underlying, and Mea needs to deal with it before it gets out of hand, and hurts those she loves. Shades of the past collide with the present, and battle lines and loyalties will be drawn.

Because her inner circle is not secure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.A. Price
• Release date: Feb 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386200130

Book preview

INCEPTION

THE BLOOD COURT BOOK TWO

K. MARGARET & DAGMAR AVERY

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Inception: The Blood Court Book 2

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Copyright© 2019 Dagmar Avery and K. Margaret

Cover Artist: Stella Price

Interior text design: Stacee Sierra

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All rights reserved. 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.

Acknowledgements:

As usual, we couldn’t do this without our amazing team:

Editor extraordinaire Chelly Peeler and Beta bitch Kayse Fabans. Without both of you in our corner we would never get anything done. We aren’t a huge group, but we are family.

Big ups to our reader group, and insane readers. Without you guys, Nymea and the boys wouldn’t be telling their story.

And huge thanks to our Patreon Jackie Fitzpatrick... Who continues to kicks so much ass it isn’t even funny.

Dedication:

To you, you stony bastard. Because you finally are where you need to be.

Chapter One

Ryker was going to kill her. No other thought went through Nymea Blut’s head when an explosion rocked the whiskey distillery with such force, she felt like her ears were bleeding. Well, the captain of her guard would only get to kill her if she didn’t die from the heavy weight pressing her against the floor, making it hard for her to breathe. It felt like a boulder dropped on her, but since it was warm and breathing it was definitely living. She knew it wasn’t Ryker, Bechar, or Tripp; she knew exactly what their weight felt like against her. This weight felt entirely unfamiliar.

Don’t move. The voice sounding against her ear sent a shockwave through her.

Her entire body heated and even her nipples tightened. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It could have something to do with her brain frying at hearing those two words spoken in a deep, gravely tone. It sounded like the guy swallowed sandpaper, but gods, she wanted him to talk again. She shifted under him then froze when she heard a loud crash not a couple feet from where she lay. Gods, all she wanted was a moment of peace without anyone hounding her about one thing or another. Was it that difficult to just have a full five minutes to herself? Apparently it was.

Literally two minutes after her guard declared the distillery safe enough for her to be alone in, the damn thing exploded and she was being forced to the ground and covered up. Maybe this was a sign from the gods that her life would never be what she expected it to be and just suck it up and deal with it. She huffed out in frustration.

I said, don’t move, the man above said again.

Bossy. It would be her luck to have some bossy man with the sexiest voice she’d ever heard try to kill her, or kidnap her, or whatever the guy’s plan was. But with the way her body was responding, she was thinking kill her would be better. No way would she turn into one of those chicks who fell for their kidnappers. Only humans did that stupid shit.

Mea! she heard Bechar yell, followed by the sound of footsteps running into the room. The cavalry had arrived.

I’ve got her, the man said. I’ll get her out. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to take care of the fucks that managed to get in here. He paused for a moment. Ryker, I counted four, but there might be more.

Holy fuck, Bechar said before he started laughing, then she heard what sounded like an all-out war. Not that she could see a damn thing. Her face currently pressed against the ground made it hard to make out anything but a stain on the floor that looked like a butterfly. For some reason, she found the sight disturbing. She really wasn’t a fan of butterflies. Too damn fragile.

I’m going to pick you up now, Princess, and you’re going to keep your head down. Clear?

Clear? she coughed out. Was this guy serious? Okay, so he probably wasn’t about to harm her since her guard made no move to save her from him, but did he really expect her to just do what he said? Hell, for all she knew he was the asshole who tried to blow her up in the first place.

How about you just get off me and I’ll walk out of here on my own two feet?

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. But you go ahead and think you’re in charge at the moment. I know how much you like that.

She sputtered and tried to lift herself up, but when she started to move, he slipped his arms under her and cradled her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin like she was some damn toddler. It infuriated her. She was a grown ass woman, the fucking princess of the Blood Court. Hell, she had her own damn dragon and she could fry this fucker without breaking a sweat. She did not need to be carried around like some damsel in distress. Put me down. The command was evident in her voice, even though the words were calm.

The inside of her, however, was screaming it in hysteria. Her reaction to this man, a man she couldn’t even see, didn’t know, was unsettling. Unfortunately, her body was not agreeing with her head. Too late, she realized she curled into the heat of the man’s chest, one palm flattened over his heart. She frowned. She couldn’t feel it beating. All she could feel was something hard and cool under the thin t-shirt he wore. Mea knew what hard muscle felt like, she touched it daily. Hell, she was almost positive Bechar didn’t have a single ounce of fat anywhere on his body. But this guy? This guy was hard as stone.

The feel of him wasn’t the only thing twisting her up inside. He felt like hers. He felt like he belonged to her, but that was the very last thing she wanted. She wasn’t ready. Wells and Rocco hadn’t been gone long and she didn’t think she was ready to move on, to replace them. Sure, she would never have the power she was supposed to have, and Norbert would never reach his full potential, but the idea of loving another guard, having them be a part of her heart, her soul, only to have them ripped away? She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go through it again. She couldn’t have another one walk away from her either, even if they had no other choice.

So, while her voice was steady, laced with its usual ice, she was feeling anything but calm. Put me down, she repeated and realized he’d stopped walking and somehow managed to get them out of the distillery and all the way down to the edge of the vineyard. The man moved fast, and silent. How the hell did every man she knew move like a ninja? It was infuriating. I don’t want to have to repeat myself, she warned.

He didn’t move, if anything his hold on her tightened. He stood there and held her and she heard him draw in a deep breath before letting it out, as if he’d decided something. Then he set her down on her feet. She took an automatic step back and brushed off some of the dust from her suit before looking up to finally see his face.

Her entire world stopped and her heart slammed so hard against her chest she was surprised it didn’t beat its way out. It might have been five years since the last time she’d seen him, but he wasn’t a man she would ever forget. Especially not since she’d thought about him every day since the day he had to leave.

Riven, she breathed, her eyes not leaving his face. He’d changed, but not drastically so. He looked older, battle worn, and tired. Gods, the man looked tired. Her feet moved toward him before the movement could process, being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Usually she was the flame, but not this time. Lifting her hand to touch his cheek, she drew it back before she made contact. It would hurt too much to touch him, only having to let him go. But she wanted to trace the new scars on his face, ask him how he got them. Hear the tales of war.

One scar ran straight down from just under his hairline, over his right eye, and continuing until it almost reached his lip. Another slashed across his cheek. It didn’t take away from the gritty, somewhat dirty sexiness the man put off. If anything, it made him even more attractive.

His dirty blond hair and beard were now sprinkled with grey and her fingers itched to touch him. He snatched hold of her wrist and brought her hand up until her palm was pressed against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch and her body tightened, screaming at her not to let him go again.

I don’t understand, she managed to say, what are you doing here? I thought you were with the Hunt in the Goblin Realm.

I was until a few days ago, Riven Argos said as he moved her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. I don’t want to tell the story twice, so I’ll wait until Ryker and the guys finish up in there. Instead of letting go of her hand, he stepped closer and tucked it against his chest. I didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t mean to take you down to the ground so hard.

I’ll live, she said. The entire situation was surreal. She never thought she’d ever see him again. It was the deal they made when they agreed that he would never be able to be one of her guard, even though both of them knew he was supposed to be. Even though part of her was empty due to the loss. But Poppy would never have allowed it. A monster with a princess was one thing, but a Dank Courts huntsman? It was just not done. Poppy was gone now and Riven was there.

How? she asked, wanting to know the reason he was standing there. How he managed to save her when none of them had known there was a physical threat.

The corners of his lips curved. Still stubborn as always, I see. A little patience, Nymea. I know how Ryker, Bechar, and Tripp fight. They’ll be along soon enough and I’ll tell you everything.

Shit! She’d forgotten her guard were back in the distillery fighting gods knew what. She turned her head in that direction and watched as smoke and dust billowed out of the open doors. Thunder rumbled overhead and the sky began to grow darker. If they all didn’t walk out of there in one piece, she was going to take their bodies to Ria, so she could bring them back...then she’d kill them again.

***

Bechar’s grin might have been a little too wide, considering he was standing in the middle of a building that could collapse at any moment, infiltrated by at least four unknown assailants, but he couldn’t stop picturing the look on Mea’s face when she found out exactly who had gotten her out of the building. He barked out a laugh and turned to look at Ryker, who directed him to the back of the building where Mea’s makeshift office was. Their princess was going to be spitting mad when she got a good look at the damage already caused by the explosion.

While the place always smelled like whiskey, now he was sure he was getting a contact high. Several of the barrels were smashed to smithereens, whiskey sprayed all over the place. Dust and smoke fill the room, so thick, it was actually a little difficult to see. Well, it would be if he wasn’t a demon who happened to have perfect vision in the dark. He held up two fingers to Ryker and pointed toward the front of the building where he’d seen two figures move. He’d let the captain have his fun and go after those two. The man was going stir crazy, whether he’d let anyone see it or not, not having a good battle to throw himself into. The fae was made for warring.

While Bechar enjoyed a good ass kicking, he didn’t need them. Hell, if he got the itch, he’d head to a pub, knock some skulls, come back and let Mea ride him until he passed out. For a guy whose life started out as a shit show, it sure did end up being just about perfect.

Something creaked to his right. It reminded him of when he used to try to sneak up the stairs at the Lotus Sithen, only to forget that one loose floorboard. He got caught every damn time. Grin growing wider, he picked up a piece of one of the barrels and listened carefully as another creek sounded. He turned toward the noise, the wood in his hands positioned like a baseball bat and swung. The wood connected hard with someone’s face, causing his makeshift weapon to splinter, pieces of wood flying in every direction.

It...could...go...all...the...way... he said in his best announcer’s voice as a boom of thunder sounded right outside the distillery.

Knocked the fuck out! Tripp said as he literally galloped by. The man was on the shoulders of his victim, holding on for dear life as the guy flailed, trying to shake Tripp loose.

A body came flying from the way Ryker went, stopped by the largest whiskey barrel as it embedded into it. The man twitched, and then went limp. Clearly Ryker was enjoying this.

Tripp, stop playing with him and kill him. No quarter, Ryker called from the other side of the room. Bech, yours out?

Bechar walked over to where the guy was laid out and nudged him with the toe of his boot, but the guy didn’t make a sound. There was a thick sliver of wood protruding from his cheek and his nose was at an odd angle. Even with the blood covering his face, it was still obvious. He hunkered down next to him and checked his pulse. Steady. He’s still breathing, but out like a light. You want him to stay that way or should I give him another good whack?

Keep him. This mother fucker is dead, he said as whoever he was stalking screamed. There was a sickening crunch that came seconds later and the room went quiet.

Right then... Tripp said and broke the man he was riding’s neck and stepped to the floor as the guy fell like a sack of potatoes. That’s that then. Who the fuck are they?

My question exactly, Ryker said, walking up covered from his head to waist in blood. Clearly he wasn’t taking any chances. Cromwell is going to have one hell of a clean-up. He looked to the man sticking outta the barrel and smirked. Broken neck...

Tripp walked over and pulled the guy from the barrel and nodded. Forty-five-degree angle.

Ryker toed the guy on the floor. Well, let’s neutralize this asshole and find out why long lost love is here now, yeah? He smirked. God, I hope she didn’t kill him.

I’m more curious if she’s got him chained up somewhere, Bechar said with a grin then looked around the room. Pretty sure she’s gonna kill this asshole when she sees the state of her whiskey room. It’s pretty much D.O.A. He let out a long whistle as the dust started to settle and they could get an even better look at their surroundings.

The explosives took out all the equipment. Pieces of it were scattered everywhere. The exact spot where Mea had been, the ceiling had caved in, debris everywhere, except for one area, where Riven must have taken the brunt of the falling roof. Of course, knowing Riven, he probably didn’t even feel it.

Well, I know one thing, he said, turning to look at Ryker and felt a storm brewing inside him. No human did this. And these four? Definitely not human.

Tripp shook his head and lifted the guy he killed up by his hair. Clearly. I mean I know humans color their hair but this asshole’s hair is mauve.

Ryker frowned. So, we have an issue within Faerie. She is not going to be happy. He looked at Bech. Grab this asshole. Tripp, stop playing with the newly dead, he said and started toward the door.

Bechar scooped up the prone body, and not so gently tossed the guy over his shoulder before stepping up to Tripp. So, I’m thinking good old Ryker there decided to take a blood bath in hopes Mea jumps him the minute she sees him.

Possible, though he’s been a bit...pent-up recently, so any chance to carve the fuck out of a body and he takes it. We really need to take a weekend trip to the front. Let him murder some assholes.

I heard that, Ryker said.

Of course, you did. Tripp doesn’t have a quiet tone. But Tripp had a point. They could all use a weekend of warring. He’d grown up in a place where you had to fight constantly to stay alive and sleep with one eye open. By the time he was a teen, he had a higher body count than most of the men imprisoned with him. But while Bechar loved a good fight, he loved having a home and a safe place to rest his head even more. Not that he went around spouting that kind of fluffy, happy nonsense.

They followed Ryker out of the crumbling building and stopped when they spotted Mea and Riven at the edge of the vineyard. Riven was neither tied up nor dead, so apparently their princess was still in shock at his arrival. So, bets? What do you think he’s doing here and how long you think he’s gonna stick around? he asked.

Tripp scoffed. He knows something, so maybe he’s just stopping in, though I don’t think she’s going to be happy about that.

Ryker smirked at both of them. Look at his face. That man is staying, mark my words.

His face looks like he walked into a sword, several times. And that fuck always knows something, he told them. I mean he’s been in a different realm for how long, and yet he still manages to find shit out. They started toward the two of them again and he watched as Mea visibly relaxed when they got closer.

He hated that she’d been worried about them. She never had been before, but no matter how hard she tried to hide it, how strong she forced herself to be, they all knew the murder of Rocco and Wells affected her a lot more than she let on.

You brought me a present, she said, looking at the body hanging over his shoulder. You shouldn’t have.

I know how much you love your men passed out and vulnerable, sugar, he said with a wink and her lips twitched, easing his worry for her.

Riven, Ryker said, thank you. He nodded to him. She’s safe because of you. Sight for sore eyes, man.

Right...you look like shit, man, Tripp offered. Looks like you could sleep for a week straight.

Ryker looked at