Bloodties: The Foster House Legacy Series, #2

By Teresa Crumpton

A family secret has been revealed.

During a siege on the Foster House, Alexis is locked in the attic of her family's mansion with her boyfriend, District Attorney Josh Hampton. Upon reading from a long-lost book, Alexis' legacy is soon revealed. Her ancestors were witches––and Alexis is the last of her line.

A Knight will learn his true purpose.

Ex-special ops Captain, Brenton Young learns his final mission had been a set-up. Orders were changed at the last minute from an observe-only mission to a retrieval mission, which led to Brenton making a gut-wrenching decision. There was no way to win. Now, he has a chance to truly right the wrongs and take his rightful place beside the other Knights that protect Alexis from evil.

An empathic law student must train.

Alexis must learn how to use all of her abilities, now that they have been revealed to her. Her training won't be easy, and it could very well kill her.

The Foster House

Knight, you must save your energy. You will need it. Your friends may be lost to you, but you must fight the darkness within. Tristan poured his family's evil into you and your friend, over there. Deep down, you know what your mission has always been. It was never to serve Tristan. Think––use the powers within you. Remember your history. Remember your true nature, your true mission.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Crumpton
• Release date: Oct 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9798201575632

Book preview

Bloodties

A Novel

by

Teresa Crumpton

Copyright © 2018 Teresa Carol Galinari Crumpton

Cover Design: Gray Publishing Services

Edited by: Stephanie Taylor & Gray Publishing Services

Formatting: Gray Publishing Services

––––––––

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.

eBooks are not transferrable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.

For more information, contact the author at http://www.teresacrumpton.com

Dedication

––––––––

To my family with love.

Letter to the Fans

––––––––

Dear Fans,

As I sit here writing this, I’m filled with joy to be able to finally give you Bloodties. This last year has been crazy, trying to get this story out to you the way I’ve wanted. Sadly, that meant I had to go back and change Her Legacy, so you’d have the whole story. I know for some, Her Legacy was a hard read, mainly because I had to give you so much information in such a short timeframe. Trying to get the rules right and where the Knights needed to be has not been a simple task, but it’s getting there. As with most Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Mysteries the first book is the hardest and after you have the building blocks it gets better. I hope you guys agree.

For those of you that hate cliffhangers...I’m sorry. I tried not to give you one, but as with Her Legacy this one felt right and I couldn’t force a different ending.

Thank you for all your support and for sticking with me. Happy reading and enjoy!

XOXO,

Teresa 

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Acknowledgements

Other Books by Teresa Crumpton

About Teresa Crumpton

One

––––––––

Charisma: Alexis’s Backyard- 21 January/ 1900 hours

F

uck me! Someone has a sniper rifle. I knew those new guys weren't friends of hers. Damn it, Tristan!

Colin stop! You and Lance need to turn back before they kill you both, Brenton hissed at his friend across the open yard.

He couldn't budge, thanks to whatever Tristan had done to ground him. Every twist or step he tried to take only resulted in wasted energy.

Knight, you must save your energy. You will need it. Your friends may be lost to you, but you must fight the darkness within. Tristan poured his family’s evil into you and your friend over there. Deep down, you know what your mission has always been. It was never to serve Tristan. Think and use the powers within you. Remember your history. Remember your true nature––your true mission.

The raspy voice faded as an arctic breeze whipped past. Brenton sucked frozen, cleansing air into his lungs. With a glance skyward, he pushed his will toward Colin with all the energy he had within, praying it would stop him. Unfortunately, it didn't work. With his energy drained, his shoulders slumped as he pitched forward and face-planted into the snow.

Shit.

Pushing his upper body off the wet, freezing, bright white powder, he rocked back onto his knees and ankles before dusting the snow from his face and chest. From his vantage point, he observed as Colin, Tristan, and Lance advanced on the house. In front of him, flickering lights in a room far above the action caught his attention.

Protect her, Knight. She is the key. Do not let that twisted abomination near her. He will kill her.

Pulling himself to his feet, Brenton used every ounce of strength he had left and darted for Colin, knowing he was the bigger threat. Shots rang out. Brenton watched in horror as Colin staggered to a stop. Moving quickly, Brenton arrived just in time to catch his best friend’s body as Colin crumpled to the ground. His dead weight brought Brenton to his knees. Focusing all of his senses on Colin, he listened to his intake of air and the thump of his heartbeat. Slowing his own racing heart, Brenton attempted to calm himself, so that he could locate where the bullets had hit his friend.

From the wheezing of Colin's breath, Brenton surmised he'd been shot in the chest, most likely around a lung. Gently, he lowered Colin's head to the ground and searched his body, finding a pool of blood on the right side of his chest. Rising to his knees, Brenton put pressure on the wound.

Bren–– Colin tried to speak.

Don't say anything. Save your strength, Brenton interrupted, his voice a mere tremor.

He didn't want to see his friend die. Again. This is not where he's going to die. No more deals with demons. Please! Someone good help him!

As if answering his silent prayer, a vision in pale white appeared in front of him, and Brenton flinched.

Stay away from me. I'm not making deals with demons again.

Her soft voice put Brenton at ease. Lowering his shoulders, he tried harder to stop the blood flowing out of Colin’s chest.

Knight, I am not a demon, and technically, neither is Tristan. His family, however, did fall from the good graces of The Order long before he became a psychopath. Or did they call him a sociopath? I do not remember. I digress.

What do you mean? And why are you calling me ‘Knight’? I'm no knight. I'm not even a soldier anymore. He closed his eyes and lowered his head in shame.

You were born from a long line of Knights, whether you want to believe it or not. That is why that traitor wanted you for his bastardly plan. He needed one of the other chosen Knights to do his bidding. The question is, do you want to leave your fate with him, or with those your family swore an oath to protect? Before you answer, know that we cannot help you with the trouble you will find yourself in for the attack on Alexandria.

I never wanted to hurt Alexis, and I'll accept whatever punishment the authorities decide to hit me with. I know, now, that I should have let my troops die in the desert when we came upon Tristan.

Maybe. Or––maybe not. You wanted to help your friends and their families. Tristan created the situation to turn you to his side. How could you have known? Did your family tell you about your legacy? I'm sure they did not. Most of the Knights do not know of their legacy until they get close to the ones they are bound to protect. That is why you started to feel differently about bringing that, she said, pointing to a body on the ground a few feet closer to the house than himself. He is of Tristan's line.

Mister Young, don't move! a voice shouted from behind him.

My friend’s been shot in the chest. I'll do whatever you want if you’ll just get him medical attention. Please!

The ghostly woman nodded at his choice before vanishing.

Help is on the way, Mister Young. Slowly move away from your friend.

I'd rather keep my hands on his wound until someone can take over. I won't budge, and you can keep your weapons drawn. I don't care.

Two men strode in front of Brenton with their weapons pointed down. He looked up and found two of Alexis's friends. He snorted as the realization struck that he'd spent Saturday night with them.

Fuck me! Her friends are cops! Here I thought we were playing her, and instead, she was playing us. That's what I get for listening to Tristan.

The cop to Brenton's left, he couldn't remember either of their names, finished reading Brenton his Miranda rights––or so he thought.

Do you understand what I have said? the cop asked.

Brenton shrugged.

Detectives! a new voice called out.

Brenton glanced over his shoulder and stiffened. Captain Bond? Brenton stammered.

Former Captain Young, Grant greeted.

Sir, why are you here? he questioned, pursing his lips.

Captain Bond wore a stern expression and hesitated before responding. They sent me to help the FBI and the Marshals. What the hell were you thinking? First, you disobey a direct order and innocent lives are lost. Then, you break out of Fort Leavenworth and go after an heiress. Why? What was worth the trouble you find yourself in?

Brenton swallowed as his posture slumped. I'm not sure where to start, but I'm willing to tell you––and the FBI––everything. But first, can I get some medical attention for Colin?

It's on the way. Gentlemen, I'll stay here with Brenton. Can you make sure the paramedics find their way back here?

By all means, the cop to Brenton's right sneered.

Trent, I'm not sure what your deal is, but it would be better if we have everyone alive to help Alexis. Do I need to talk to Agent Naylor, or better yet, Chief Daniels about your attitude?

No, sir. The detective stalked off, and Brenton watched as Captain Bond rolled his eyes.

You know what his issue is, Grant?

I do. But she doesn't need his asshattery right now. You know, I'd love to ask how you've been, but Brenton, I already know. What the hell happened to you and Colin? Grant asked, pacing back and forth.

Brenton's eyes followed his movements then he sighed. I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you.

Grant's shoulders rolled back slightly. Brenton knew not many would've picked up on Grant's tension release if they didn't know him, but Brenton did know him. They'd had classes at the Academy together, and he'd played football with Colin.

Grant, I'm not sure who I can trust anymore, but I know that I'm willing to trust you with my life. And with Colin's.

I will do what I can, but I make no promises. You’ve done many things that I can’t condone.

Brenton stared off, not meeting Grant’s gaze, as emergency vehicle sirens sounded in the distance. He only hoped they were headed in his direction. Beneath his hands, he felt Colin's chest stop rising, and he could no longer feel his friend's heart beating. Tears started to well in his eyes, but before one could stream down his face in front of Grant, he lowered his head.

Brenton didn't know how many minutes had passed before he heard shoes crunching on the snow. Yet, he didn't peer up.

From far off in the distance, he heard a deep baritone voice say, Sir, I need you to let go so I can help your friend.

Brenton, if you want them to try to save Colin, you need to move out of the way. Now. Grant’s concern broke through the fog in his head.

Just then, Brenton registered a small group gathered around him, and Grant was squatting down to eye level. Brenton nodded as he removed his hands from Colin's chest.

Please––do everything you can for him. None of this is his fault, Brenton pleaded as he made eye contact with those around him.

Sir, we will do everything we can to save him, the paramedic promised.

Brenton rocked back onto his feet with his hands spread away from his body. The officer to the left, who still appeared somewhat pale, pulled out his cuffs. Knowing the drill, he twisted both of his arms behind his back to make it easier on the officer. The cold metal pressed hard against his skin as the handcuffs cinched closed.

A hand grabbed his upper arm, pushing him forward, and he stumbled slightly before gaining his footing. The cop quickly led him through the house and out the front door. It was all a blur to him until he sat in the back of a patrol car and watched as the house faded into the distance.

Two

––––––––

T

he pale attic light flickered on and off before the faint glow of candlelight filled the room again.

What was that? My head snapped up, my voice audibly panicked to my own ears.

My guess is either Logan or Naylor cut the power, Josh suggested, running his long fingers through his already tousled dark hair.

Josh, how could Logan or Naylor mess with the candles? I asked in sarcastic fear.

Even though Josh's blue-gray eyes sparkled with excitement, a thread of fear lurked in the background. It thrilled me to see his excitement, however, that fear was what concerned me most. I could only imagine what Josh saw reflected in my blue-green eyes.

Wishful thinking, I suppose. Would you prefer I say the house did it? His blended Bostonian and Oxford accent came out soothing, if a bit stressed.

Not really. Although, it's more probable. My brows furrowed. Is it just me, or is it really quiet? Do you think they apprehended Brenton and Colin?

He cocked his head to the side, as if listening. I think you’re right.

Tucking his long legs under himself, Josh stood. For the first time in weeks, his six-foot-two, toned frame towered over me. Stretching his arms above his head, the edge of his steel blue sweater lifted slightly, revealing a hint of the six-pack hidden beneath. One of these days I'll ask him what he does to stay so fit, I mentally noted. However, tonight wouldn't be that night.

Dropping his arms back to his side, Josh cantered forward with one hand out toward me while his other hand continued to hold the family history book he'd been reading to me. I'd been too focused on his abs to realize he'd stretched with it in his hands. I blinked, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. Reaching up to grab his hand, I uncrossed my legs as Josh pulled me to my feet. Once on my feet, it occurred to me just how close we were to one another as I stared up into his eyes.

If we weren't up here for my protection, and I hadn’t just learned that I might be a witch, I'd kiss you.

As if reading my thoughts, Josh leaned over slightly and kissed the tip of my nose.

Let's go see what's happening. It will help to put our minds at ease. Then maybe everyone will bugger off.

Mister Hampton, are you trying to get me alone? I teased.

He wrinkled his nose and glowered. You know, I truly dislike when you call me that. I didn't relish it before, and I sure as hell like it even less now.

Awe, but it’s so much fun screwing with you. Rising onto my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek.

He simply shook his head at me.

What are you going to do when I'm allowed to go back to school and work? I'm sure the gossip about us started immediately after the holiday party.

We'll discuss that later. And yes, it did. I'm actually glad you weren't in the office to witness that. Some of the things I overheard...geesh. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

I started to laugh, but before I could make a sound, Josh pressed his lips softly against mine. He leaned back, and I met his eyes once again, finding them alight as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

With his hand still clasping mine, Josh pulled me toward the window, and we stared out over the snow-covered back lawn. From this vantage point, I could make out three men on the ground, two of whom were surrounded by a ring of men holding guns, while the other lay by himself with three officers standing over him. The breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding exploded from deep inside my chest. My body relaxed, leaning into Josh, as all fears and tension faded away, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

With a tilt of my head, I gazed up at his chiseled jawline and caught his blue-gray eyes staring down at me.

Do you think we should head back down? I wondered.

I probably need to, however, I'd prefer that you to stay up here. Although, I know I'm not going to be able to talk you into that, Josh mused.

Honestly, I don't really want to be close to Brenton or his crew. On the other hand, I'm not sure I want to be alone in the attic, either. Could I talk you into dropping me off in my room?

Josh’s hand slid from my shoulder and down my arm until his fingers laced with mine. Squeezing slightly, I silently prayed he realized just how much his touch soothed me. With one last gaze over the grounds, I turned and followed him back toward the center of the turret where I'd been sitting earlier, as I listened to him read bits of my family history.

Being klutzy like I am, I failed to watch my step, even knowing the floor was cluttered with books, papers, and candles. I stumbled, falling into Josh, and heat radiated in my cheeks. Avoiding eye contact, my hand slipped out of his as I fell forward. Grabbing my upper arms to steady me, he allowed me a moment to regain my balance.

Ouch, I winced.

What hurts? he asked in concern while looking me over.

I stubbed my pinky toe, I replied, reaching down to rub my injured digit. Laughter echoed around the room as I balanced on my good foot while trying to rub my injured toe without falling. I glared up into Josh's mirth-filled eyes.

Remind me––why do I like you?

His mouth curled into a mischievous grin. Well, it's certainly not for what some might think, since I haven't even tried to get past first base.

True, and I thank you for that. Ironic that people would believe the gossip, given we haven't even been on that first date we discussed, I said, worrying my bottom lip. In an attempt to avoid running into anything else, I focused my attention on the floor. There, just a few inches from my foot, lay the weathered, leather-bound book I had been reading earlier. Squatting down, I retrieved the book before rising and making my way toward the exit, careful of where I stepped in order to avoid any more obstacles. As I attempted to open the attic door, I realized it was locked, just as it had been previously. Though, I knew Josh couldn't have been the one to lock it.

Adopting his courtroom voice, Josh turned to face me. Alexis, it seems your family wants us to stay put. This is not a good sign.

It seems so.

I stood silently for a moment or two before I realized that Josh hadn't said anything else. Instead, he stood staring over my shoulder, a stunned expression upon his face. Curious as to what had him so riveted, I turned to face the window and came face to face with a ghostly figure standing in the center of the room. Even with Josh's ability to buffer his emotions, I could still tell he was edgy and on high alert. Fear radiated off of him, but thankfully, it didn't knock me on my