Poisonous Amour

By L. A. Kennedy

War has bled onto the streets worldwide with only one group standing between The Order and all mankind. Their newest recruit must now decide between loyalty and love.

In the darkest corners of Van City, a deadly war rages between the darkness and the irregulars. With humanity on their knees, there is one group standing between them and their complete destruction—the Slayers. And now, their newest recruit, Bane, a Therian, must choose between his duty and his love.

Viciously loyal, ruthless and deadly, Bane has given everything to become a member of the Slayers. But when fate intervenes, he discovers his loyalty rests elsewhere. Trapped between his love for Jessamine and the fate of mankind, Bane must decide between the lives of his fellow Slayers and that of the woman he loves—Jessamine, a Hunter and sister to the Calyph of The Rancor Order.

Will true love win out—or will fate throw him another curveball and take his life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Oct 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781786862471

L. A. Kennedy

L.A. Kennedy, beyond the story… L.A. Kennedy is a Canadian born writer, living in the ever-growing city of Vancouver, Canada. Here, she spends her days getting lost in the beauty of reading and writing. L.A. Kennedy mainly writes fictional books. And can be found researching myth, folklore, and everything in between, with a special interest in edge-of-your-seat paranormal romance. L.A. Kennedy can be found behind a mountain of books, on any given Sunday. L.A. Kennedy’s writing credits include two hit series that mix mystery, horror, paranormal romance, fantasy, and intrigue.

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Poisonous Amour

ISBN # 978-1-78686-247-1

©Copyright LA Kennedy 2017

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2017

Edited by Jamie D. Rose

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2017 by Totally Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, UK

Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.

The Genesys Project

POISONOUS AMOUR

LA Kennedy

Book four in The Genesys Project series

War has bled onto the streets worldwide with only one group standing between The Order and all mankind. Their newest recruit must now decide between loyalty and love.

In the darkest corners of Van City, a deadly war rages between the darkness and the irregulars. With humanity on their knees, there is one group standing between them and their complete destruction—the Slayers. And now, their newest recruit, Bane, a Therian, must choose between his duty and his love.

Viciously loyal, ruthless and deadly, Bane has given everything to become a member of the Slayers. But when fate intervenes, he discovers his loyalty rests elsewhere. Trapped between his love for Jessamine and the fate of mankind, Bane must decide between the lives of his fellow Slayers and that of the woman he loves—Jessamine, a Hunter and sister to the Calyph of The Rancor Order.

Will true love win out—or will fate throw him another curveball and take his life?

Dedication

Dedicated to my sister, who always put up with my shit.

I will love you for always.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

YouTube: Google Inc.

Count Dracula: Bram Stoker

Coke: Coca-Cola Company

Old Spice: Proctor & Gamble Company

Ford: Ford Motor Company Corporation

Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation

Glock: Glock Gesellschaft MBH Limited Liability Joint Stock Company

The Art of War: Sun Tzu

I sleep with the wolves in my head and wake up in my own blood. We love the things that kill us.

― Christopher Poindexter

Prologue

Sid, you need to do this for me, Jessamy asked. She pushed an envelope into his hand. Please save my daughter, Jessamine.

Sid sat beside his oldest friend, his only friend. Her death hung in the air like a bowl of rotten fruit. Death was never kind. Sid knew that better than anyone. He had watched death claim thousands upon thousands. It took people who were too young, at their first breath and too many greats to count. Death didn’t care. It didn’t distinguish or discriminate. It was the end that came for all mankind.

It wasn’t often that the hooded vale of death touched Sid quite so closely. He had met Jessamy when she’d first come into the world and had watched over her up until this moment, the instant before she was leaving it. He had been there when she’d learned she was a Hunter and he’d been her trainer. He’d watched as she’d birthed a child and as she’d battled against evil for mankind. And now he would be there as death wormed its way into her body and would also take her daughter, Jessamine. Jess—as she preferred—would never become a Hunter. The end of all Hunters was near.

Death had come to Jessamy like a shotgun blast from behind, as it had with every Hunter before her. The Darkness always left behind his poison for those who were too resilient to give in. He would eat at them until their spirit could take no more. Jessamy would pay the ultimate price for her will. Although Sid knew that everyone died someday, somehow, death at the hand of the Genesys was less than a gracious end for a kind woman and her child. In hopes of ridding the world of the last two remaining Hunters, the Genesys would kill them both. The only saving grace is that a mother would not have to see her daughter die. Jessamy would be gone before the poison took her daughter.

Sid could feel death approaching like a faint voice down the hall, growing louder the closer it came. It would come to her with the slow rattled gasps that had claimed every other Hunter before her. Her breathing would stop momentarily, only to spring back like a drowning victim with a grip on life. In a few moments, she would die. And at sunrise tomorrow, the young Jessamine would follow her mother into Elysium.

Sid knew he could save Jessamine. He could break every law and rule to save her. Interfering was forbidden. It was absolute law. Mankind’s path may never be disrupted. Sid couldn’t help but to want to intervene. He knew there was nothing he could do for Jessamy. Her soul was already preparing for her journey home. He could feel the Journeyers in the room with them, quieting the pain inside Jessamy, readying her for the passage to Elysium. All true Hunters returned there.

Swear to me, Sid, that you will save Jessamine. I have fought for hundreds of years. I have never once asked you for anything. I have given humanity everything, but I cannot give them my daughter. Jessamy gripped Sid’s hand with her last bit of shaking strength. She placed an envelope in his hand. Should she survive, please give this to her. She needs to know the truth. She needs to be prepared. One day the Darkness will come for her again, as it did for me. I am honored to have known you and fought beside you.

It is I who am honored. May your journey finally bring you peace. Sid leaned down and kissed Jessamy’s forehead.

He watched the agony play over her face in dark shades of gray as she fought for a life that was no longer hers to have. She held on for one reason only, her daughter. It would take a horde of Journeyers to pull her soul from her bones. Sid’s breath caught in his throat. He had held his breath many times before. He never truly needed to breathe, but this wasn’t like that. He felt like he had a gun to his temple with a magic bullet that could end his existence and was being told he shouldn’t feel the pain in his heart or the trigger would be pulled. For Jessamy, he would always feel that pain. The moment the coolness of fresh air rushed into his lungs, he knew Jessamy had breathed her last breath. She would be carried home in the arms of a Journeyer, leaving behind flesh and bones to be placed into the decaying earth.

I know your thoughts better than you know them yourself, Sidriel, the Orygin spoke from behind Sid.

Her voice was more soothing than a thousand birds in Elysium. He turned to see her standing at the doorway to Jessamy’s bedroom. She stood as a young woman, no older than twelve, her long red hair twisted in knots on top of her head. Her clothing reminded Sid of beggars from days gone by, tattered and stained and far too big for the starved body underneath it. The Orygin had never come to Sid as the same person twice. She was a he, and he was a she. Sid never truly knew the gender of The Orygin. No one did.

Before you ask, Sidriel, I know your heart’s desire better than you know your own heart. You wish to save the child, the Hunter named Jessamine. You want to heal her and change her fate. The Orygin knew exactly what he had wanted without him having to ask. The path you are on will lead us right back here, Sidriel. I have seen this play out for you. You will always come back to this moment, the moment where you change the fate of mankind. Once you open this door, you can never close it, and it will only bring you and mankind pain.

Sid slipped off the bed and knelt in front of her. He had always walked a fine line between rules and the bending of them, but he had never wanted to snap the rules in half until this very moment. A war inside his chest brewed. He was torn between his borne duty and his love for Jessamy. He had loved her as he would have loved a sister and as he loved his many brothers. The affection he felt for Jessamy and her daughter was unparalleled to the grief that had taken up root in his soul. For the first time, he was willing to sacrifice himself to pay for the unbalance he would create.

I will not take that sacrifice, Sidriel. That is not balanced. A life for a life, a hand for a hand, an eye for an eye… The unbalance grows as we try to patch the rule we have broken. The Orygin ran her hand down his cheek, collecting the tears on her fingertips. Sid slumped forward as the Orygin backed away from him. I will grant you the honor of her journey. You will bring her peace in her final hours and carry her home. That is my gift to you, my dear Sidriel.

Sidriel looked up at the Orygin. His brow scrunched in anger. For the first time, he felt real resentment. Throughout his entire existence, he had loved her with all of his being. Every step he took was for her. Every life he saved and ended was always for her. And now, he didn’t believe in her words. Sid stood and moved toward the bed on the other side of the bedroom. Jessamine was curled into a tight ball on her side, fever racking her body. He tucked the letter from her mother into her pillowcase. Sid couldn’t allow her to suffer the same painful end as Jessamy and he knew the Orygin could not stop him. He, like all mankind, was given free will.

I have seen her fate. Humanity needs her. She will be the piece to a puzzle that cannot be solved by anyone but her. Sid didn’t turn around to speak. She can do this. I feel it in my soul. They can’t do it without her.

So shall it be, Sidriel. What other paths will she interrupt with her existence? What was never meant to be will be, and it will bring an unbalance to all. She will become the upset the Darkness will need. He will be granted the chance to seek out what was never destined for him to use. He brings poison to all of humanity. She answered as she always had, in riddles, only now Sid didn’t care. "You will fall, Sidriel, and your landing will remain painful for all days. Do not do this."

The room grew dark, as did the chances of Jessamine’s survival. Sid was tortured inside. He was damned either way. If he did nothing, Jessamine would die and humanity would suffer. If Sid disobeyed, he would save Jessamine but would fall from the grace of his Creator. Whether the Orygin could see it or not, he knew the fate of mankind was resting in this balance. Sid could not see an outcome where there was no suffering. More than that, he saw Jessamine as an adult, fighting beside the last hope of mankind—the Slayers. Sid had seen a wolf at her side, ready to die to defend her as she waged war. They would be the answers needed, together. Without them, the war would be the least of their worries.

Sid dropped to his knees and closed his eyes. So shall it be.

He placed his hand on Jessamine’s stomach and did what he’d once sworn he’d never do. He chose to alter destiny rather than allow it to run its course. As he pulled the infection from Jessamine, he fell from the Orygin. He fell from her grace. The pain was incredible. Every neuron fired at once and his body twisted in pain, but he never removed his hand from Jessamine. He tilted his mouth to the sky and screamed. He knew he had left his status as a Watchyr behind at the feet of The Orygin. He thought of Desdemona and prayed she would be gifted with a Watchyr of honor, one who would be willing to Fall for her.

I’m sorry, Des, Sid whispered and fell to the floor. He gripped Jessamine’s hand and cried. He had to lose for humanity to live. That, in his opinion, was as balanced as it was going to get.

Chapter One

Present day

Ten years had passed since the death of her mother. In her hand, she held her mother’s last words to her.

My Dearest Jessamine,

If this were a dime store novel, it might have started something like… He came into my life like a cool autumn breeze—graceful, elegant and shameless, with a smile that could bring women to their knees. His thick eyelashes drew attention to his catastrophically vivid blue eyes, as though the very lashes were holding back the ocean. His hair was midnight black and his pale skin made him appear devilishly handsome. His prominent cheekbones and sharp chin framed his face perfectly. He had looks that stopped every eligible female in her tracks. His nonchalant gaze and grin said he had grown used to being eyed by ladies and most gentlemen. Muscles ripped across every inch of his body as he moved and his clothing pulled tightly against him, begging to be let loose. He was a strong warrior or a leader in the many armies. The way he moved made him appear ever more mysterious. He swept me off my feet, and we lived happily ever after. The End.

But this isn’t another cheap novel, my sweetest Jessamine. This was real life, and there was nothing graceful or elegant about him. The sweeping off my feet was much more brutal than a happily ever after. The man almost belonged…but not quite. Something about him stood out. He dressed in an elegant suit, as most men had in those days, but there was something about the suit that said it had seen days longer than he could possibly have. Although he was a handsome gent, it was his eyes that took away the false, boyish charm—like the man staring out didn’t fit the package he was presenting to the world. I should have trusted my gut, as I always tell you to do. The instincts of our line are never wrong. This was the first time I had seen him in town. The second time had taken my breath away.

The peak of the witch trials had begun in the seventeenth century. Hordes of men and women had been slaughtered. I would come to learn that these people were not witches, but they did pose a threat to those in power. My mother had been assaulted. I was born nine months and six days later. She had been accused of dancing with the devil and spawning a demon—me. She was hanged when I was but three days old. I was raised by two spinsters who were later burned at the stake. My first dozen years looked a lot like a serial killer novel, everyone around me dropping like flies. Those were the days that painted our history in red. If only we’d known then what we know now, we could have saved so many.

I, at the young, tender age of twenty-one, was named a witch. I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could take me. I was not a witch, nor did I dabble in any form of witchcraft. In fear of a trial and certain death, I left everything behind, which due to the trials, wasn’t much. I had seen what had been done to those accused of witchery. Trials were nothing more than accusations and brutal killings of hated neighbors and scandalous ladies. Each one killed had been innocent of sorcery. They were hanged or drowned or burned at the stake. They died for no other reason than an unfounded accusation and fear-mongering of the masses.

When my legs could carry me no longer, I found myself exhausted and hiding inside the hollowed trunk of a tree. The Wandering Woods, a place not even the hounds would venture into, was where I tucked myself away. Things lurked in the shadows of those woods. The thickets grabbed at my hair and flesh, pulling me deeper into the darkness. It was said that the woods were haunted by creatures of the night—stories told to young boys and girls to keep them from venturing too far from home. Those silly tales barely touched on the truth. It was much worse than any could imagine. The