Gods & Monsters: Crimson Shadow, #6

By Nathan Squiers

All hell is breaking loose…

Xander Stryker has faced a lot in the past few years: an abusive, misery-hungry stepfather; a psychotic rogue with a vendetta against Xander's bloodline; super-powered hunters; miles and miles of blood-thirsty rogues; and, of course, a slew of enemies who revered themselves as gods. Yet, all of their boasts and all of their claims meant little when Xander was finished with them. Until now…

A force unlike any other that has latched itself to Xander's city like a weed; a force that has made anyone and everyone a possible enemy; a force hiding under the guise of a church, spreading a gospel of monsters and murder.

Fortunately for Xander, however, a group of unconventional newcomers—"The motherf***ing Vaileans, b****es!"—have arrived, a group that's been chasing their own troubles straight to the doors of Xander's clan. And if they can avoid killing themselves long enough to unravel the chaos, then maybe this unholy threat won't result in an apocalyptic end for all mythos kind.

If you like grit, horror, and compelling character chemistry, take a bite out of the dark, supernatural series by Nathan Squiers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Literary Dark Duo Publishing
• Release date: Apr 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201406448

Book preview

1

HOMECOMING

It felt like the worst of sins at that moment.

And Xander Stryker had more than his fair share of experience in the realm of sin. It was, after all, practically the family business.

Less than sixteen hours earlier he’d still been naked on the night-bathed beach of a private island that his colleagues had managed to secure for him. For them. Because he hadn’t been the only one naked on that island; wouldn’t have even been naked if not for his company forcing him to abandon any and all clothing the moment they’d arrived there. A full week of nudity and peace and beauty on a paradise all their own. If it had been possible to get closer to the Garden of Eden in the here-and-now Xander would have kept his guns handy for defense against any whispering snakes.

Besides, there was a strong likelihood that, were it real and the stories surrounding it true, Eden wouldn’t be open for vampires to visit.

But after the hell that he and his company had been through before getting there, a pseudo-biblical paradise and some mandatory nudity was exactly what they needed.

What had taken place on that island, however, was evidence enough that any resemblance that island might have held to the legendary origin of man stopped solely on appearances. Between their pent up aggressions, delayed desires, and more than just a few gifts tailored to guide their moral compasses as far from reserved as possible, they turned their week on that island into their own personal mission to tempt any god that may be watching to try to cast them away.

They’d both faced worse, and woe be unto the deity who tried to delay their well-deserved honeymoon any further.

Finally married, and finally free to enjoy that fact, Xander and Estella Stryker made that island theirs. If there was a grain of sand or a palm leaf that hadn’t witnessed their passion—hadn’t been in some way impacted by their explosive unions—then it had not been for a lack of trying.

It had been enough to draw Xander’s ordinarily pessimistic and paranoid mind away from its own nature for a no-doubt record breaking one-hundred and seventy-three hours. This, Estella teased him, was nothing short of a miracle, if not one ordained by a god. At that point, she’d reminded him that the plane would be arriving to take them home and that, though she wasn’t against giving the incoming pilots a show, it would probably be in their and their modesty’s better interest to get dressed.

Less than sixteen hours earlier…

It was a surreal thought that such a short time ago he’d been naked and happy and carefree with his wife. How what had been less than a day away could feel like a lifetime. The clothes had come back on, and, as though they were a part of the outfit, the worries and demands came flooding back. Everything he’d spent that week forgetting about—leaving buried in the darkest recesses of his mind while he basked in the glow of his enchanting bride—was upon him and wracking his brain with every bit the merciless savagery it had in the first place.

One week of making love to Estella—his Estella; Estella Stryker!—on their own private paradise and, less than sixteen hours later, he was standing at the gates to the Trepis Clan’s mansion and preparing to dive back into his life of blood and horror and chaos.

And that, despite all the debauchery of the past week, felt like the worst of sins at that moment.

Especially since his first order of business was to bust in the teeth of one of his closest friends…

For the moment, however, he resigned to simply staring up at the headquarters for the clan that he was expected to be the leader of, feeling a strange mixture of resentment and pride and uncertainty welling up within him. On any other day, he wouldn’t have been certain what to make of any one of those emotions, and would very likely vent whichever it was with what he did best: making bad things dead. All those emotions at once, however, with no real target to project them on turned his otherwise laser-sighted aggressions inward and he found himself once again mourning those who would no longer be occupying the Trepis Clan’s mansion. And that thought alone was enough to break the hypnotic trance and push him to take the first step towards the mansion.

The next step came easier, and every following step even more so until he was practically sprinting for the double doors.

Xander, Estella’s voice chimed in his head and a moment later she was beside him and taking his hand into her own as she gave him an understanding, albeit stern, look. Don’t make it ugly.

He smirked at that, realizing that his wife, though not likely thrilled with what he planned to do, wasn’t about to try to stop him. In many ways, he supposed, she would have liked to contribute to the violence, but, while she had advanced quite a bit from the meek human witch who would go into sobbing hysterics at the sight of roadkill, she was still a long ways from indulging in the pain of