The Ruined Kind: Dirty South, #0

By Van D Vicious

ROSE

 

This isn't my life…

 

A witch finds identity in their craft. I was a healer. Now I'm a just a killer.

 

Excommunicated. Alone. Lost.

 

A demon cursed me, said I'd die alone with my last, gasping breath. Maybe it's time to speed up the dying part. Because this shouldn't be my life, and now that it is, I ain't even sure it's worth living anymore.

 

ZIM

 

How did we get here?

 

I didn't have much choice in becoming a werewolf, but I've made the best of it. The pack gave me a real family when I ain't never had it before. It's in the blood, a bond that won't break. So what if I have to peddle for the one that made me?

 

I've got plans. Big ones. I'll get out from under my maker before it's all said and done, and this town'll be mine sooner rather than later.

 

That's how it should've gone anyway. But now I'm staring at a dead pack mate and it feels a whole lot like the barrel of a loaded gun. I'll find her killer if it's the last thing I do.

 

The Ruined Kind is a gritty novelette in the Dirty South universe, set as a prequel to Rose and Zim's story in Roses Wild. Due to graphic content, it is recommended for mature readers. Possible triggers include gore and suicidal attempt/ideation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Van D Vicious
• Release date: Nov 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215738177

Book preview

A DIRTY SOUTH STORY

Van D Vicious

The Ruined Kind

© 2022 Van D Vicious

Portions of this novella were previously published on Kindle Vella under Roses Wild

© 2021 Van D Vicious

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for use in brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Printed in the United States of America.

First printing: 2022

Cover by Moonshot Covers

Interior design by Trash Goblin Express

L’Elf Noir du Mal typeface by SD Fonts

Downcome typeface by Eduardo Recife

Passengers Script typeface by Pathero Studio

Celexa typeface by Apostrophic Labs

TOC

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Bonus Content

A hundred pounds of solid brick weed stank up the warehouse, shrink-wrapped and ready to be hauled. I tilted my head, skeptical of what was being displayed. Glancing over at Dylan, I side-eyed that patient smile.

The guy looked like a WASP version of Scarface with a better suit. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence or trust, and the weird flex of showing off Weed Mountain just made me more suspicious. I’d come to Louisiana looking for a hook-up, following leads and quiet clues until I found the right distributor. Who I thought was the right distributor. But this went well beyond my pay grade.

Laughing, I tried to hang onto the good ol’ boy persona I’d played up thus far and shook my head. Yeah, I don’t get it, man.

You’re looking for a way out. Dylan indicated the pallet with a slight nod. I’m offering you a way in.

Into…what? I raised an eyebrow. 

New Orleans had been a last ditch when everything dried up closer to home. All I needed was enough medical grade to pull in ten grand. A hundred pounds offered the start of my own business. It also meant I’d never leave Arkansas. If I stayed, my best friend would end up dead. Dylan wanted something I couldn’t offer.

Look, man, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but…

Dylan shook his head. You don’t understand.

And I really don’t wanna. I pulled the money out of my bag and tossed the duffel down in front of the pallet. Three bricks. I just need to sell this and get my friend—

Meth is a terrible drug, Dylan cut in, taking the money from my hand to fan through the bills. I imagine you could double this in a few weeks.

Nodding, I widened my eyes and exhaled frustration. That’s the plan.

Your friend won’t leave it behind. Dylan’s mouth flattened as he handed the money back. You know I’m right.

I shrugged, refusing to admit I’d had the same fear all along, but I had to try. Masking my irritation with indifference, I looked at the plastic sheeting that covered one of the windows. The sun was almost down, and I’d wanted to be on the road already. This day just kept getting weirder the longer I stuck around—food and drinks at a five-star restaurant, time with the big boss, and now an offer into bigger distribution.

But I didn’t like being used, having my hopes smashed like a beer bottle. I liked it even less when it was held over my head like a big carrot on a stick. They’d listened to my hopes and goals, and now Dylan was using them against me. But what was the point if I couldn’t help Chris? The guy was my brother in all but blood, and I wouldn’t abandon him.

Raising an arm, Dylan beckoned to someone.

Aiden emerged from the shadows. The massive lackey always seemed out of place in his expensive suits, but maybe he’d look like that no matter what he wore. More than anything, Aiden looked like a grizzly bear forced into human skin. Shaggy, brown hair. Thick, brown beard. Wiry, brown hair escaping the wrists of his dress shirt and flowing down the back of his hands.

When Dylan nodded at the duffel bag, Aiden picked it up and held it in a loose hand. Sir?

Dylan smiled, completely at ease when he took the bag and placed a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. Aiden, would you mind showing Eric what I can offer him?

Of course, sir. He loosened his tie and pulled it off his neck, followed by the jacket.

When he started on the buttons of his white shirt, my brain threatened to short-circuit. I held up my hands and backed away. I’m not doing porn for weed! I glanced between them, unsure what I’d gotten myself into. That ain’t my bag, all right? Just gimme the bricks and I’ll go.

Dylan grinned, showing off a perfectly white smile. We haven’t dipped into adult film just yet, Eric. This isn’t about sex or money.

What do you want from me? You think it’s funny to dick people around when they’re desperate? I tossed the money on the ground, staunchly ignoring Aiden as he removed his shirt. I just wanna help my friend. I closed the distance to Dylan, my eyes blazing as I pointed at the bag. Gimme the fuckin’ bricks! Dylan’s smile never wavered, but up close, I noticed the unusually sharp canines and that little bit of doubt finally had a name.

Before I could speak it, Aiden snatched me by the collar of my polo and pulled me close. Brown fur had sprouted in patchy clumps along his chest and neck. Likewise, his teeth had grown sharper and protruded in a wolf-like grin. His glowing, brown eyes were magnetic, impossible to ignore.

This is what Dylan can offer. The words were more growl than speech.

Eyes widening, I stared at the shifter. I’d known they were real; hell, the governor in Arkansas won the election by running on a platform for stricter sanctions against werewolves. But I’d never actually seen one, never should’ve this far south.

I should’ve been scared. I should’ve begged for my life or whatever pathetic thing humans did in the face of the supernatural. But rage bled through my pores and it drowned out everything else. These mother fuckers had played me.

Leaning closer, I yelled, I don’t fuckin’ want it!

Then we eat you, Aiden spat through his overlong teeth.

Dying like a cow wasn’t in the cards. I pulled at the shifter’s grip, my struggles growing more pronounced with each second. I grunted and shoved, finally trying to rip my shirt free, but Aiden held firm. Finally, I looked to Dylan. I ain’t goin’ out like this, I promised.

Then don’t. Dylan laughed. I turn you and send you home with what you asked for. Turn your friend and he’ll never struggle with addiction again. Isn’t that better than watching him suffer and fail?

Maybe this would help Chris in the short term, but what happened in the future? Becoming a shifter just meant I died before my time and took Chris down with me. That wasn’t much of a choice.

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. You’re gonna kill me anyway. They were werewolves. Self-control wasn’t in their vocabulary. I’d seen leaked footage of a full-moon shift in the middle of a nightclub and I was about two seconds from ending up as mincemeat.

But my accusation seemed to strike a note and the entire atmosphere shifted around us. I am going to elevate you, Dylan corrected, his voice taking on a harsher note. That tone was all wolf.

My eyes went to the window and the orange light that was almost gone. Shit! I kneed Aiden in the gut and somehow managed to jerk free.

Before I made it three steps, the massive wolf tackled me and wrestled me around onto my stomach. In a matter of seconds, I was helplessly pinned beneath Aiden’s weight, my head pressed to the floor.

Stop squirming. He flexed his hand, making it clear he could crush my skull without breaking a sweat.

Go fuck yourself! My eyes darted, still searching for some way to escape.