Drip Drop Teardrop

A Novella

by

Samantha Young

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY

Samantha Young

Drip Drop Teardrop, a Novella

Copyright © 2011 Samantha Young

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another

person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,

then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Drip Drop Teardrop

A Novella

A Note to Readers: Thank you for purchasing Drip Drop Teardrop, a Novella. It should be noted that this novel is written in British English. US readers should expect

differences in spelling etc.

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Inspired By the Song ‘‘Overload’

By the Cardigans

Lyrics :

Overload, oh what a match we are,

as we romance along towards the fire escape.

Open fire, forever in your arms,

splendid time we have

doing what I dread.

Oh my Lord, can I buy some time?

I'm learning to dance,

dum di dee dance.

I am dancing, OK.

Overlord, Lord of the Underworld,

full of wonder girl,

as we twist and twirl.

Hot and dry, high in my cloven heels,

this is how real love feels,

as we prance and die.

Oh my Lord, such a fancy fire.

As we dance.

You sure can dance.

dance, dance.

You I will never forget.

I hope you remember me later.

I'm swimming in a puddle of sweat,

I'm hot baby, don't burn your fingers.

I'm tenderly served on your plate,

the band must continue to play,

so we can dance.

I love to dance.

Baby, dance with me.

Yeah I can dance.

Your love is to dance.

Now dance me home.

*****

Slow Dance in Time

This sallow-faced creature with the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes bruised with unnatural tiredness could not be her vivacious Aunt Caroline. Only a year ago her aunt had run
the New York Marathon, power walked to her job as an editor at the Greener World Magazine , and had proclaimed Sunday, not a day of rest, but ‘Rock Climbing
Sunday’.

But like a blood-sucking vampire that enjoyed playing with its food, cancer had stalked Aunt Caroline and now taken her hostage, drawing her life source out of her day by

day.

“You sure you’re going to be OK?” Avery asked for the fiftieth time as she tucked her aunt into bed. She put her meds beside her and made sure her favourite book was on

her bedside cabinet along with her reading glasses, a glass of water, her cell in case she needed Avery, and the remote to the ancient mini television that sat in the corner of the
room.

Aunt Caroline smiled wearily and made a shooing away gesture. “I told you, today is a good day. Will you please just go? Your friends are waiting for you.”
Ignoring the knot of anxiety in her chest, Avery pressed a light kiss to her aunt’s cheek and made her way quickly out of the apartment before she changed her mind. She

had gone through this every month since her aunt’s diagnosis. But it stopped her aunt from feeling unnecessary guilt, and truth be told Avery needed the break sometimes.

“There you are.” Sarah grinned at her, throwing an arm around her as she stepped out of the apartment building. Jemima winked at her and stubbed out her cigarette with

the toe of her six inch yellow heels. At five ten with dark chocolate skin, unusual hazel eyes and a figure to die for, Jemima belonged to the world of modelling in New York
City. She smoked because she swore it kept her skinny, but knowing how much Avery hated it (and everyone was taking it easy with Avery these days) she tried not to smoke
around her.

“How you doin’, girl?” Jemima asked, rubbing a hand up and down her arm affectionately.
Despite perks such as Jemima not smoking in front of her, this is what Avery hated: everyone treating her differently because her aunt was dying. It had happened when she

lost her parents and it was happening again. She forced a smile. “I’m all dressed up and ready to party.”

“You don’t say.” Sarah took a step back from her, her little sequined clutch purse winking in the cast of the street lights. “Josh is going to blow a gasket when he sees you in

this get up.”

Rolling her eyes, Avery pulled on the hem of her black dress. “Is it too much?”
“Nuh-uh,” Jemima assured her, already moving off the sidewalk to flag down a cab. “Just enough, I’d say. With legs as short as yours you need all the help you can get.”
“Excuse me if some of us aren’t Amazonians.”
Jemima snorted in response.
Avery frowned as a cab pulled over and she shuffled into it with her friends. “Where are the guys?”
Sarah shrugged. “We’re meeting them at the club instead. So, your aunt’s still OK about these club nights?”
Avery smiled humourlessly. “She practically forces me into it.”
Jemima grunted from the other side of Sarah who was packed in between them. “Don’t need to sound so thrilled to be with us, girl.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Jammy is just teasing.” Sarah glared at Jemima, and the girl narrowed her exotic eyes on her.
“I told you to stop calling me Jammy.”

Sarah grinned unrepentantly and turned back to Avery. “So seriously, she’s OK?”
No, her aunt wasn’t OK. She wasn’t going to be OK ever again.
When Avery first found out about her aunt’s terminal diagnosis she was a freshman at NYU, studying journalism just like Aunt Caroline had. It had been a struggle for them

to afford it anyway; Avery hadn’t moved out of their tiny one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, she was commuting. And she had a part time job at a coffee chain since they
were one of the few corporate companies that Aunt Caroline didn’t have a problem with.

But after they found the cancer it became clear that Avery was going to have to work full time to take care of them. Aunt Caroline had health insurance but it only went so

far; they’d had to use Avery’s small trust fund to pay the rest of the medical bills, but Caroline couldn’t work so there was no money for rent and food. Avery quit school and
got a full time job as an office assistant at the Greener World Magazine . Aunt Caroline had worked for them forever and they were devastated for them both, so they had
offered Avery a job and were really flexible if she couldn’t come to work when her aunt was having a particularly bad day.

Of course, her Aunt Caroline was riddled with guilt, thinking she had somehow destroyed her big sister’s little girl’s chance for a life. That’s why she insisted that Avery

joined her friends at their favourite nightclub, 4.0, at least once a month. No matter how much she tried to tell her not to feel guilty, Avery knew her aunt couldn’t help it. And it
was so stupid, considering her Aunt Caroline had given up her free and easy life to take care of Avery when her parents had died. That had been nine years ago when Avery
was ten years old. Her mom and dad had taken her on vacation to Europe. They were going to London, then Paris and then onto Venice and then Berlin. They only made it to
London. They hired a car and her dad had taken a stupid roundabout the wrong way and they ended up in a head on collision with a truck. Her parents were killed and she
had barely survived. Aunt Caroline flew over from New York, saw her through her recovery, and brought her home to her tiny apartment, to the sofa in the living room that
doubled as Avery’s bed. But Avery didn’t care about losing her pretty purple bedroom with the fairy lights and gauze bed netting that hung over her four poster making her feel
like a princess. All she cared about was Aunt Caroline, her hero. Her hero who had understood that all Avery wanted was to be normal again; who had spent all her extra
money on cool clothes so Avery fit in at school; had stretched Avery’s curfew so she could hang out with her friends and not be singled out for being a loser. Somehow only
she understood that after months of people ‘pointing’ at the kid who’d lost her parents, all Avery needed was not to be noticed. She liked to blend. In fact, standing out made
her physically afraid. And Caroline, who was the complete opposite, had never judged her for that.

And now Caroline was dying, too.
Avery swallowed against the burning lump in her throat, looking out the cab window and blinking back tears so Sarah and Jemima wouldn’t see.
She listened distantly as the girls chatted about work and guys for the forty minute or so drive to the Meatpacking District. They pulled up to the club and Avery spotted the

guys immediately. They were crowded together, not too far from the front of the line, Josh towering over nearly everyone else there. Adam and Aaron stood beside him deep
in animated conversation. As her gaze washed over Josh, who was ogling the ass of the girl in front of him, she drew in a deep breath. Josh was cute in that guy next door-
brown hair-perfect blue eyes-dimpled smile-kind of way. Cute but not too cute. He had been the perfect boyfriend at school - together they weren’t uncool, but they also
weren’t too cool, which satisfied Avery because that way they didn’t stick out. But when his incessant immaturity and possessiveness started leading to public drama, Avery
had broken up with him just before graduation. For the first few months of college he had persisted in trying to get back together with her. He only backed off now because
Jemima had threatened to castrate him if he bothered Avery when she was going through all this with her aunt.

“Avery!”
She glanced up as Sarah took her elbow and smiled wanly at Josh as he waved them over. Jemima was already strutting towards them, ignoring the wolf whistle from the

gorgeous guy two people back from the front. Avery and Sarah both rolled their eyes and then hurried over to the guys. The people behind them ‘hey-ed!’ and grumbled and
complained at them for cutting in front until Jemima spun around and iced them out with one of her famous glares.

“Avery, you look amazing.” Josh pulled her into a tight hug, smooshing her face up against his hard chest. She struggled to pull back and actually had to push him away a

little. He didn’t seem to notice though, his eyes washing over her, his eyebrows creasing towards each other in concern. “You OK?” He asked in sotto voce tones. “We’re all
worried about you. We’re not quite sure you’re coping, Ave.”

Avery tried not to grimace at how patronising he sounded and was thankful when Adam punched him on the arm. “Dude, shut up.” He turned to Avery, his chocolate eyes

smiling. “Ave, babe, don’t listen to him. We all think you’re coping great. Its little princess here who worries like a pimp-less whore.”

“Why would a whore worry if she didn’t have a pimp?” Sarah tilted her head to the side, her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I would have thought a whore would be thankful

not to have a pimp. Aren’t pimps bad?”

Avery shook her head in disbelief. “Are we really having this conversation?”
“No, we’re really getting into this club right now cos’ I’m freezing my bony little tush off,” Jemima growled and shoved past them. They watched as she flirted with the

doorman. They seemed familiar with one another. She pointed back at them and then brushed a piece of invisible lint off the doorman’s lapel. It was such a clichéd move,
Avery shook her head.

It worked.
Jemima waved them down and they hurried out of the line to the entrance, ignoring the yells of complaints from everyone else in line, afraid if they didn’t move fast enough

Mr Doorman would change his mind.

The bass of the music could be heard like a faint heartbeat in the distance as they checked their jackets. Avery shivered in anticipation. A security guard gripped the handle

on the double doors where the heartbeat pounded behind, each thud of the bass like a taunt beckoning Avery inside. And then the door was wrenched open, the music
shooting through Avery in thrumming waves, vibrating in the air around her, demanding her hips to catch the undulations. Sarah grabbed her hand and they took off down the
stairs and through the crowds clustered around the tables scattered on the edges of the main dance floor. She allowed Sarah to pull her into the throng of bodies moving to the
beat of Rihanna’s Only Girl (in the World), giving herself over body and soul and letting the beat wash away her stress and grief. Here was good. Here she was just one of
hundreds of people enjoying the heady bliss of the dance floor.

Soon Jemima found them and yelled that the guys were getting them drinks. Avery wasn’t sure how long it took them but it was a while before they returned with a round of

JD and diet coke for the ladies, courtesy of Aaron being twenty one and Adam and Josh having fake ID’s. Avery threw back the whisky and coke and broke through the
crowds so she could abandon the glass on a nearby table. She didn’t want anything, even a little glass, getting in the way of her freedom on the dance floor.

The guys danced with them for a while, and Avery’s elbow found Josh’s stomach a couple of times when he danced too close. Just as he was beginning to destroy her buzz,

the guys decided they were too hot and went off in search for a table.

Sometime later Jemima persuaded them to leave the dance floor to get another drink and find the boys. Eventually they found them upstairs at one of the low tables and

sofas that overlooked the dance floor below. They already had a round of drinks waiting for them. Avery stood with Sarah a little away from Jemima and the guys, who
lounged on the sofa, sipping the JD and coke this time as they swayed their hips in time with the music. As she surveyed the huge club, Avery felt a prickle of awareness and
her eyes automatically sought out the cause.

Her breath caught in her throat.
It was him again.
The last couple of months at the club Avery had become aware of this guy watching her – well, her friends said he was - but every time she looked over at him his gaze was

elsewhere. He was pretty hard to miss. It wasn’t just the fact that he was so tall and wide of shoulder. Or that he was always dressed in this stylish suit that looked as if he
should be melting in it. It wasn’t his longish silky black hair or eyes that seemed to burrow through the crowds with power. No. It was the hideous, long scar across his stark
face. It cut from just above his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose and deep along his left cheek in a diagonal slash. In the flashing light of the club that’s all she ever
seemed to see. That ugly scar. That ugly scar that made people turn and look at him with a mixture of fear and awe. The stir he caused made Avery shrink from him in her
natural disinclination to be centre of attention. While she swore she found him repellent, at the same time her eyes were weirdly drawn to him. She couldn’t stop wondering
what colour his eyes were.

A heavy arm thumped down across her shoulder making her spill her drink.
“Hey, pretty lady,” an unfamiliar voice slurred in her ear and she drew back from the breath that stank of alcohol and looked into the face of a very drunk guy.
Irritated, Avery tried to pull away from the stranger but he clung like a burr.
“You wanna dance?” His hips gyrated at her and she heard Sarah giggle beside her. She threw her an ‘I am not amused’ look.
“No thank you.” She tried to get out from under his arm again but her dark hair got caught in his grubby hand. “Will you let go,” she snapped. Why was it drunken guys

thought it was OK to manhandle strange women in public?

“Hey, baby, chillax, I just wanna dance.”
She grimaced. “Chillax? Really?” She tried to shrug him off again and only ended up spilling her drink.
“She said get off her, man!” Josh was suddenly in the guy’s face, pushing him aggressively away from Avery so she lost her balance and would have fallen if Sarah hadn’t

been beside her.

“Hey, man, chillax, chillax.” The guy could barely open his eyes he was that far gone.
“Chillax? I’ll fucking chillax, man.” Josh made to lunge for him but Adam thankfully grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “You better take off!”
The drunk stumbled down the stairs away from them, half the people at the nearby seats glaring at him and the other half at Josh. Avery was with the latter half.
“Jesus, Josh.” She thrust her empty glass at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t need your help.”
Josh glared at her, completely taken aback by her attack. “The guy wouldn’t get off you! I heard you ask him to a dozen times!”
“I was handling it,” she hissed, wishing she could melt into the floor so people would stop staring. This was why she had broken up with the idiot.
“No, you weren’t. You’re just a little thing, Avery.” Josh moved to brush a hand down her arm but she jerked away from him. “You’re not strong enough to deal with guys

like that.”

A flush of anger crawled up from the pit of her stomach, up across her chest, spreading up her neck like a rash of indignation. She was so fed up of people telling her she

wasn’t strong enough. You’re not strong enough to cope with college and work, Avery. You’re not strong enough to cope with a sick aunt, Avery, maybe we should
look in to getting you some help. You’re not strong enough to beat off some drunken guy, Avery! These people had no idea who she really was - the crap she had gone
through and was still going through. And all she wanted tonight was to freakin’ dance without people staring at her expecting her to fall to pieces!

“You’re not my boyfriend, Josh, and you won’t be ever again,” she snarled, ignoring Jemima punching the air in support, clearly glad Avery was finally telling him off. “So

stop pretending we are something, OK.”

He looked like a wounded puppy but Avery refused to feel bad. He’d used that look too many times to manipulate her in the past. No wonder he thought she had no

backbone. “But, Ave-”

“No. No ‘but Ave’ anything. I am going back down to the dance floor and if you follow me and try to dance up my butt again, so help me God I will kick you in the nuts.”
She swept past him hurriedly and down the stairs, hearing Sarah rushing to catch up with her. Once on the dance floor Sarah gazed at her wide-eyed, clearly desperate to

laugh. Avery threw her a sheepish shrug, wondering where that blast of anger had come from, and then hi-fived the hand Sarah held up to her. They burst out laughing. God,
telling Josh off had felt so good. Chuckling, she spun around letting the music take over again, stripping her life down to just this moment, on this floor, with this music in the air.

A little while later she felt a tug on her arm and Sarah was gesturing at her. She leaned in and Sarah yelled in her ear, “Hey! That guy is here. He’s staring at you again!” She

pointed through the crowds and Avery followed her gaze to the tall, dark scarred guy across the room. This time when she looked he didn’t look away. Their eyes locked and
Avery’s heart began racing like crazy, a hot tingling flush completely different from the heat she felt from the dance floor seized a hold of her, and for a minute she couldn’t
breathe, the sound of the music growing muffled, like she was under water or something. And then she blinked and he was gone, the hotness disappearing with him. She took a
huge gulp of air and turned to Sarah wide-eyed.

“You OK?” Sarah shouted, looking concerned. “He’s really creepy, Avery. And he looks really dangerous all scarred up like that. Maybe we should tell someone!”
Avery managed a weak shake of her head, not entirely sure what had just happened to her. But the last thing she wanted was drawing attention to the situation. Trembling,

she had to force her body to respond to the music again until eventually her muscles relaxed into it, her heart racing at a normal speed for the exertion she was putting it
through. At some point Sarah told her she was going to get another drink and Avery threw her a nod in response before spinning back into the throng of dancers, not caring
she was alone; she just closed her eyes and let the music sluice over her.

The beat of the Black-Eyed Peas began to wind down as the mix of the next song seeped into it, and Avery opened her eyes in disappointment as Paul Weller’s You Do

Something to Me came on. She wasn’t the only one confused by the song choice, but pretty soon people shrugged it off and coupled up, swaying to the sexy romance of the
music.

Avery sighed and turned on her heel, intending to leave the dance floor. She walked straight into a brick wall of a chest. This beautiful, fresh woodsy smell fluttered up her

nose and she tilted her head back slowly, her eyes taking in the dark suit, crisp white shirt, the broad-shoulders, the strong jaw. And then that face. That scar. For a moment
she could look at nothing else. It was so deep the skin around it seeming to curl into itself, slightly red compared the paleness of the rest of his face. It was a hateful
disfigurement. It was hard to see past it. But as that unfamiliar heat crawled up from her lower belly Avery managed to unglue her eyes from the scar and catch his gaze. His
eyes bored into her with an intensity that freaked her out. His eyes were black. Jet black. Fragments of light flickering and reflecting back at her from them. Now that she
wasn’t so transfixed by the scar she could see he was older than her by the sharp, strong planes of his face. He was so pale. And that scar… she shivered.

He scared the crap out of her.
“May I have this dance?” He asked in a soft accent she couldn’t quite place – it sounded English but it wasn’t.
Her jaw dropped. Creepy scarred guy wanted to dance with her? She felt her throat closing as she glanced around. Just as she feared, people were watching. Her heart

began to escalate as the old irrational terror came back. Her aunt had tried to get her to see a psychiatrist about it but that would mean someone being completely focused on
her and well… wasn’t that really the whole fruit of her fear. Avery felt a panic attack come on as people grimaced at her for talking with creepy scar guy.

But then he touched her wrist.
Delicious heat, like dipping into a hot bath on a cold, rainy day, rushed up her arm and her chest opened, her heart slowed. Turning back to him his face was still taut but his

eyes seemed… kind? Calm flooded over her, and despite her fear Avery found herself nodding. Why am I nodding? She asked herself distantly. He slowly reached out and
placed a strong hand on her waist, drawing her close. Her breath hitched in her throat as she raised her arm, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his left hand. Her
tiny hand got lost in his huge one and he smiled softly at her, knocking the rest of the air out of her body. She was so sure he was hideous but when he smiled… the scar
seemed inconsequential.

His wicked smile widened. “Breathe,” he whispered softly, and pulled her tight against him so that her head rested against his shoulder. She shuddered as he breathed her in,

positive he must feel her heart thumping against his chest. The hand at her waist slid gently up and down her spine and she shivered, wanting to burrow closer to him. The hot
tingles unfurled across her body and she felt this overwhelming need to melt into him. Even as her mind told her he frightened her, repulsed her even, a fog of intoxication
descended around her as they moved perfectly together. Her mouth quirked up in surprise as he repeated the lyrics to the song in her ear. In that moment all she wanted were
those lips of his on hers.

No, she jerked back, shivering at the thought. She didn’t really want this creep anywhere near her right?
He tugged her back, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, his hands tightening around her angrily. “This is right,” he growled in her ear.
It was, wasn’t it? She thought, her heart picking up pace again. She was frightened again. Because now this weird stranger seemed so familiar.
An upbeat dance track merged into the last chords of the song and a gust of cold air blew across Avery’s skin. She blinked, opening her eyes, gobsmacked to find she was

dancing alone, the dark scarred guy nowhere to be seen.

***

“Seriously, girl, I thought Josh was going to bust a blood vessel.” Jemima chuckled drunkenly as the cab driver headed towards Avery’s apartment. “Did you dance with that
ugly guy just to piss him off?”

Avery shrugged, smiling weakly, feeling a little sick. “I don’t know.”
Sarah nudged her with her shoulder, her blue eyes concerned. “I dunno if you should have danced with him, Ave. He’s really… ugh… and I think he may have paid the DJ

to play that song just so he could dance with you.”

She flinched at her friend’s unkind words. But hadn’t she been thinking the same? God, they were all so shallow. So what, she argued with herself, frowning. Scarred guy

had drawn a huge amount of attention to her by dancing with her and she was furious. Every time she thought about it she shuddered in horror. He deserved the cruel words.

“Did you guys see where he went?” She asked softly, her rational mind telling her that no person alive could move that fast.
“Nah,” Sarah replied, “I’m just glad he left. You didn’t give him your number, did you?”
Avery shook her head, refusing to acknowledge what felt like a twang of disappointment in her chest.
“Oh my God, Ave!” Jemima squealed gesticulating wildly in her JD infused haze. “You should have got his digits! He may be creepy ass but there’s something kinda sexy

about the idea of doing it with him! I’d bet he’d be super grateful, if you know what I mean!”

Avery grimaced at all the squealing in the cramped cab. “Can you make it stop?” She pleaded with Sarah, gesturing to Jemima.
“Yeah, can you?” The cabbie groaned.
Sarah giggled and patted Jemima’s arm. “Jammy, babe, you wanna lower the tone a little huh? You’re deafening children in Africa.”
“Pfft!” She waved them off before promptly thumping her head back against the seat, her eyes slamming shut.
“Wow,” Avery whispered, “You’re like a witch or something.”
Sarah giggled again and then began telling her to ignore Jemima. There was nothing sexy about some built stalker guy who has a knife slash across half his face.
Avery was so thankful when the cabbie pulled up outside her apartment. She needed to get away from all the lecturing and questions. She needed to get away from thinking

about that weird guy and the way he made her feel. Like she wasn’t who she thought she was. Like she was meant for something else. God, was there anything more
traumatising than an identity crisis? Yeah, no, she definitely didn’t need that right now.

As per usual she offered Sarah some money for their expensive cab trip but Sarah shook her head adamantly. Too tired to argue, Avery said goodbye and hurried up to her

apartment.

“Avery, that you?” Her aunt’s soft voice called to her as she moved around the sitting room, kicking off her heels and stretching her feet out flat against the cold wooden

floors.

“Ahh, that feels good,” she murmured before hurrying into her aunt’s room. Her Aunt Caroline was still awake, her book opened on her lap. “You can’t sleep?”
“I wanted to see if you had a good night.” She smiled softly at her.

Avery clucked her tongue reprovingly. “Aunt Caroline, you should be asleep.”
“Did you have a good time?”
At which part? She felt like asking. The part where I told off my ex-boyfriend or the part where I slow danced with the ugliest, sexy guy I’ve ever met?
“Yeah, I had a good time.”
“Did you dance?”
She grinned. “Of course. You know I love to dance.”

Cold Breeze Cutting Through

the Summer Air

The following month wasn’t a great one. Aunt Caroline underwent another round of palliative chemo and spent the next few days suffering from severe fatigue. Avery stayed
home from work so they lost more income. That didn’t matter so much as how strange Aunt Caroline was starting to look, kind of bloated as well as emaciated at the same
time, if that were even possible.

When she was starting to feel a little stronger her aunt told the doctors she wasn’t going to have any more chemo. They didn’t argue with her. Avery wanted to but it was

selfish to ask Aunt Caroline to go through the ordeal of it all just so she wouldn’t have to live without her for an extra couple of months.

Weirdly the decision seemed to put a spring in Caroline’s step. Finally facing the cancer, facing the inevitably of her death, had lifted a weight off her shoulders and the last

week of the month she had been strong enough to go to the market – they’d even gone to a movie together. She was exhausted afterwards but there was colour in her cheeks
again.

Nightclub night came around as quickly as it always did and for once Avery wasn’t as worried about her aunt. Her friend, Stacey, from Greener World Magazine had

come over with some wine and Caroline had said “to hell with it” and was forgoing her meds to have some. She was a grown woman. Avery wasn’t going to argue with her.
She left the two of them giggling at the television in the sitting room and ventured out to find Sarah waiting for her. Jemima had a modelling job the next day and was on a 24
hour fast because of it - it involved no alcohol and an early night in bed. Josh still wasn’t talking to her, and Aaron and Adam were on a double date with a brother and sister
(Avery refused to get into their complicated dating life), so it was just her and Sarah tonight. Avery didn’t mind. Sarah was the only one who seemed to be as addicted to the
dance floor anyway.

They hopped in a cab, Avery thankful she’d worn skinny jeans and a leather jacket tonight, considering the bitter wind blowing in from the north east. They were early so

there wasn’t much of a line outside and it wasn’t long until they were inside 4.0 sipping mojitos at a table in the corner. As soon as Jennifer Lopez’s On the Floor came on
Avery was shrugging out of her jacket and dragging Sarah up to dance. Like always, she was lost, carelessly dancing with random guys and girls who were enjoying the beat as
much as she was. But somehow as the hours crept along she began to miss something. And then she choked, coming to a stop when she realised what it was. There was no
familiar prickling sensation tonight. She spun around, searching the crowds and the club for tall, dark scarred guy - the tall, dark scarred guy she was afraid to admit had
crossed her mind more often than he should have this past month. Huh. He wasn’t here tonight.

Of course he isn’t, Avery snorted inwardly, it’s not like he’s stalking me or anything and only comes to this club on the nights I’m here.
“You OK?!” Sarah shouted over the music, her brow creased with concern.
“I’m fine!” She shrugged it off and continued to dance. But the rest of the evening was somehow poisoned by the thought of him not being there. Avery felt a little sick.

Which was just so weird… considering the guy scared the crap out of her.

Sarah didn’t seem to notice how distracted Avery was and they danced on into the night. They burst out of the club just after 1am, people milling around outside. There

were no cabs.

“We’ll have to walk a little, I think,” Sarah grumbled.
Avery groaned, the blue stilettos she had borrowed from Sarah pinching. Giving into her fate she tucked her arm into Sarah’s and they strolled down the street together, not

surprised by how busy it was even at this time of night. Just as they made it out of the busier section, Avery felt an alien chill rush over her at the sight of three people ahead of
them. Two guys and a girl. The girl stood in between the guys who were clearly facing off, their bodies bristling with aggression.

“Jake, cut it out!” the girl screamed, trying to pull the taller of the two men away.
“Oh God,” Sarah muttered, “Domestic.”
Avery tugged on her arm, somehow desperate to get to them. “Come on.”
“Avery…”
They grew closer, the two guys shouting in each other’s faces now, the girl having been pushed away from them.
“You think you’re a tough guy?!” the shorter of the two screamed, spittle dripping from his lips. “Yeah, let’s see how tough you are now!” There was a flash of silver and

then he seemed to punch the Jake guy in the stomach. But as the girl screamed and Jake fell to his knees, Avery came to a stop, bile rising in her throat at the sight of the
bloody knife pulling back from its attack on Jake’s body. The short guy brandished it at the girl. “Told you not to mess with Dominic! Bitch!” The guy spat and then he took off
at a run.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Sarah was trembling as the girl screamed over her boyfriend’s body. “Avery, oh my God!”
Avery pushed past the fear gnawing at her gut and hurried over to the girl. The girl looked up at her, tears streaming down her face, mascara all over her cheeks. “Help

me!” She sobbed, her hands shaking, covered in blood.

Jake lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, his white t-shirt completely soaked through with blood as it spread at a worrying pace. He shuddered in little starts that told

Avery he was going into shock. Shit!

“Sarah, call 911!” Avery yelled over her shoulder and then pulled off her leather jacket. She whipped her top off, goosebumps erupting across her skin in the cold night air.

Quickly, with trembling fingers, she pulled the jacket back on and zipped it up. Her top she balled up and pressed to Jake’s wound to try and staunch the bleeding. He cried
out at the pressure.

“It’s OK,” Avery assured him, breathing too fast. “It’ll help, Jake. It is Jake, right?”
“It’s Jake,” the girl answered, shaking hysterically.
“They’re on their way.” Sarah cast a shadow over them. Avery looked up at her, noting a couple of people who now stood to the side, pale and in shock, watching them.

Sarah was crying.

A prickle caught at the back of Avery’s neck and her heart seemed to stop. Slowly she turned and stared across the street. She gasped. Tall, dark scarred guy was

standing on the opposite sidewalk, pale and serious - his dark eyes fixed intently on Jake. There was a sense of finality about him. He sighed heavily, putting his hands into the
pockets of his black wool coat before he turned away from them, slowly striding out of sight.

And somehow Avery knew without looking down that the ambulance wasn’t going to make it in time.
Jake was already gone.

I’m Going to Watch you

While you get me Wrong

The next few weeks were not good. Her aunt had deteriorated quickly, whether it was the shock of finding out Avery was a witness in a murder investigation, or the cancer
had decided to take hold with a vengeance, Avery didn’t know. Despite Avery and Sarah’s descriptions, the guy who had killed Jake hadn’t been found because Jake’s so-
called girlfriend swore she didn’t know who had done it. She was clearly afraid of whoever was behind it and Avery knew she probably should be too. Instead she was a
bundle of emotions: surprised that her irrational fear of being centre of attention had dissipated during the events of that night, despite the crowds that had gathered around to
watch her huddle with a grieving girl and her dead boyfriend, and despite being the focus of attention from a few police officers. As well as that she was furious. A blood-
boiling anger lived inside her for the stupid idiot with his knife… and tall, dark scarred guy. It was irrational. Impossible. But somehow Avery felt he was responsible too
somehow.

Avery sighed, leaning against the doorframe of her aunt’s bedroom, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. Aunt Caroline was sleeping a lot lately. Her energy was

just… non-existent. Avery hadn’t been into work at all this week. She felt her throat closing, the muscles working painfully to stop the spill of tears and the sob that was
desperate to wrench out of her. Tonight she’d actually had to help her aunt bathe. Her capable, beautiful aunt. The truth of it all made Avery want to throw up. It looked like
Caroline had less time than they’d thought.

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, Avery pushed away from the door wishing to God she could scream until she was hoarse. Instead she turned silently and padded into the

sitting room, fully intending on collapsing on the sofa bed and sleeping for a million years.

“Holy Jesus Crap!” She shrieked quietly, coming to a stop. Her heart got stuck somewhere in her throat.
Tall, dark scarred guy was in their sitting room, standing in front of the television. The scar seemed to pulse at her menacingly and she swallowed, having forgotten how

much it unnerved her. Fear clawed at Avery’s chest as he moved towards her.

Understanding crashed over her in mammoth, terrifying waves, pulling her under. She couldn’t swim these waters. “No!” she whisper-shouted. “You’re not getting her!”
“Avery-”
“No! I know what you are!” Tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I know,” she sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “And you’re not getting her. I’m not ready yet!”
He moved so fast all she saw was a blur of darkness, like a streak of black paint across a grey canvas. Suddenly she was in his arms and he was hugging her, hushing her

cries, whispering soothing nonsense words in her ear. Avery pushed against him, terrified of this dark creature.

“No!” She pushed and he reluctantly let her go. “I know what you are.”
He frowned at her, rubbing his cheek in thought, his fingers brushing the groove of the scar. “I’m not here for your aunt, Avery.”
Relief immediately whooshed through her and she sagged against the back of the sofa.
“Not yet,” he amended.
Avery glared at him. “Why are you stalking me? Is it me? Am I dying?”
He smiled softly, drawing her attention out from the scar to his face. “No.”
She trembled, edging away from him. “Then what does Death want with me?”
His eyes seemed to spark to life and he shook his head. “You always amaze me.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know me.”
“Of course I do. I know you better than anyone.”
Why did he look so sad at her rejection? Didn’t he know how scared she was? “Why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here. I’m here for you.” He reached out a large elegant hand for her and she stumbled back. He grimaced. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I would

never hurt you.”

“B-b-but you’re d-death,” she stuttered moving further back until she hit the wall. “Why else would you be here for me?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, seeming far too human for her liking. “Can we sit? Will you listen while I explain?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He tilted his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s try not to be melodramatic, Avery. You always have a choice.”
Watching him carefully, Avery nodded, feeling as if she was watching this play out from a distance; it was so surreal. Yet, she knew this was no nightmare. It was

happening. “Explain.”

“Do you want to sit?”
“Not particularly.”
“Fine,” he huffed, actually seeming affronted by her manners. He folded his large body into her aunt’s armchair and Avery almost smiled at how ridiculous he looked against

the floral pattern of the fabric covering. “My name is Brennus.”

“And you’re Death?” Avery asked warily, trying to remember if she had accidentally taken some hallucinogens in the last 24 hours.
He shrugged. “Depends on what you mean by Death?”
Avery rolled her eyes at his blasé tone. “Death. As in Angel of. Grim Reaper. Black hooded cloak. Big scythe.”
Brennus chuckled and sank back into the chair, appearing completely relaxed. “Well that’s not right at all. For a start… there isn’t only one Death.”
The breath whooshed out of her body. “You mean you’re not… alone?”
Seeming amused by the idea he shook his head slowly. “You really think one guy can take care of all the deaths in this world?”
Well… when he put it like that… no.
She replied with a jerky shake of her head.
“There are many of us. Once ordinary men and women, we were offered the chance of immortality in exchange for ferrying the dead into their afterlife.”
Avery felt sick. She shivered, her eyes narrowed on him. “You chose to do this? Why would you do that?” This man, this immortal, who she was at once attracted to and

wanted to run from, was some soulless creature who had sold himself to the underworld for the chance at immortality. She was disgusted with herself for being drawn to him.

Brennus’ face darkened, his eyes flashing dangerously, reminding her who he was and how powerful he was. “You misunderstand, little one.”
Even though her breath was coming in shallow gasps, Avery was determined not to be browbeaten by this… creature. “Then explain.”
“We don’t kill people, Avery. We just show them the way when their time is up.”
“But why would you want that kind of job?”
“Someone has to do it.”
At his sad answer Avery felt a little faint and she let her body slide down the wall until her bottom hit the wooden floors. “What do you want with me?”
Sighing, Brennus leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His gaze had softened again as it washed over her face, tallying her features. “We’re called the Ankou. Or the

Thana, depending on where you’re coming from.”

Avery just stared at him, not even asking what he meant.
“My province was London,” Brennus continued. “I was responsible for seeing the safe journey of the dead there over to their afterlife-”
“For how long?” Avery interrupted, needing to know, no matter how upsetting (could it get any more upsetting considering she was sitting here talking to Death?).
“Nearly two thousand years,” he replied promptly. “When London was Londinium and much smaller, I might add. I had more free time back then.”
She gave a little guffaw of hysterical laughter, ignoring his glare. She waved him off. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing at this.” She gestured around her. “I think all

the trauma has finally gotten to me.”

Brennus stared her down. “You know this is real, Avery. You know me.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. You do,” he insisted, his voice hardening under her denial.
She shivered, clutching her stomach, heat blossoming on her cheeks. She felt a little feverish. “Why?” She desperately wanted to cry as she pinned him with her forthright

blue gaze. “Why are you so familiar?”

Brennus exhaled, a relieved smile playing on his lips. He had a beautiful mouth, she realised distantly. He relaxed back into the armchair. “I only took over New York nine

years ago. I came here for a reason. When she was ten years old, a little girl and her parents came over from the U.S. to Britain, and they were involved in a tragic car
accident. I came for them all.”

Avery swallowed past the lump in her throat, not sure if she had heard correctly over the rushing of blood in her ears. “Them all?”
Nodding, Brennus leaned forward again, his eyes dark with sympathy. “I took the parents easily. But the little girl…” He shook his head, his face alight with wonder. “…she

fought me. No one had ever fought me before. You fought me, Avery. You fought me and won.”

“No.” She quivered, pressing her spine against the wall, wishing she could melt into it. Tears spilled over her lids but she couldn’t escape the truth. No wonder he was so

familiar.

“We made a connection that day that can’t be broken. I knew I had to watch over you. So I called up Edward who controlled New York and we traded.”
Her jaw dropped. “You make it sound like you traded baseball cards.”
Brennus shrugged. “After eighteen hundred years as an Ankou you tend to be less sensitive about death.”
Avery ignored the comment, staring at her bare feet in a daze. She’d painted her toe nails black today. That wasn’t an omen, was it? “So you followed me?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice packed full of emotion she wished wasn’t there.
“And now what?”
“You belong with me, Avery. I feel it in my gut.”
Her head snapped up, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. “When you say belong… you mean…?”
Throwing her a wicked smile that would thaw the iciest of hearts, Brennus replied, “As in belong with, as in my friend and eternal lover.”
She dropped her head in her hands, shaking uncontrollably. “This can’t be happening, this isn’t happening, I’m going mad-”
“Avery, stop,” he snapped and she felt the breeze of blurry movement as he knelt before her, only inches from her now. He moved supernaturally fast. His warm hand

reached up and yanked her hands away from her face so she’d have no choice but to look at him. All she could see were his eyes; the paleness of his face and horror of his
scar just a blur compared to the sharp clarity of those eyes.

“You’re warm,” she said dumbly.
Brennus grunted, “You expected different?”
“Cold. I expected you to be cold.”
He snorted. “I’m not a vampire, Avery.”
Her eyes widened. “Do they exist?!”

His eyes closed and he shook with suppressed laughter. Finally his lashes fluttered and he opened his lids, pinning her to the wall with his black gaze. “No. They don’t.”
Trying to pull her wrists out of his grasp, Avery muttered, “So you really think I belong with you, huh?”
“Didn’t you feel it when we danced?” he whispered sensually, his hot woodsy scent enveloping her.
“Stop that!” she snapped, snatching her hands back.
Brennus frowned in confusion. “Stop what?”
“That.” She gestured vaguely. “That intoxicating, drugging thing you do with your heat and smell…” She drifted off at his languid grin. She huffed, “You’re not doing

anything, huh?”

He shook his head smugly.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting from me but you’ve got the wrong girl,” she insisted.
Brennus went back to glaring. “I’m not wrong.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “I know I’m not much to look at, Avery, but if you gave me a chance…” He gulped in a

breath and shook his head. “I’ve lived a long time, Avery, and I know that you’re the one. The Ankou are destined to live forever performing the duties of their obligation to
the dead… unless…”

“Unless?” she whispered.
“Unless they fall in love with a mortal who loves them back. The mortal frees them from their obligation and joins the Ankou in immortality. They live forever together, the

Ankou no longer tied to the world of the dead.”

Slowly realisation dawned and for some reason she felt a stab of pain in her chest. “You’re using me!” she hissed, her eyes narrow slits of rage. “You’re using me to get out

of being a reaper!”

Brennus threw her a disgusted look. “Of course not! I have to love you and you have to love me. It has to be real. Or it won’t work.”
“Well I’m sorry to burst your little fantasy, mister, but I don’t love you.”
The air thickened around them. A chill, tight and cold, descended over them and Avery knew Brennus was responsible for it. “You’ll give me a chance, Avery. Spend some

time with me. Please.”

“No.”
“Avery-”
“I said no!” she growled aggressively in his face. “You took my parents!”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Get out!”
“Avery-”
“No!”
“Avery!” he snarled ferociously and she slid back, seeing real darkness in him, the scar glaring at her. “I’ve frightened you? Good.” He stood up in one fluid motion, staring

down at her with no expression. “You have a choice, Avery. You come with me for a week and give me a chance to prove what I say is true, or I take your Aunt Caroline
before her time.”

Rage shot her to her feet and she launched herself at him, pummelling his chest with her tiny fists. “You bastard!” she shrieked, not caring if she woke her aunt up. “You sick

son-of-a-bitch!”

Brennus didn’t even flinch under the attack. He grabbed her wrists and thrust her away from him, holding tight. There was a ruthless quality in his eyes. Avery had the awful

feeling this man, this Ankou, always got what he wanted. “If you come with me, if you choose me, if you love me…” he pleaded now, trying to draw her close. “…I get a gift,
Avery. When I leave the Ankou, I get a gift for all the years I’ve honoured my obligation. I will use that gift to save Caroline. I’ll make it so you never existed and so that she
never gets cancer. She’ll live a long happy life and she won’t remember you to miss you.”

A sob burst out from the pit of her chest. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Brennus promised. “I never lie.”
“And if I don’t come with you for a week, you’ll come for her quicker?”
He nodded sharply.
“But I don’t have to stay with you for any longer?”
“Not if you think you don’t love me.”
Avery choked on her tears, glancing back to the doorway where her aunt slept. “What will happen to her? She needs someone to take care of her.”
“I’ll take care of it. We leave now, and she’ll wake up with a carer. When you get back she’ll never remember you’ve been gone.”
She stared at him dubiously.
“She’ll believe whatever I want her to believe, Avery.” His eyes had grown soft again. But she wasn’t fooled. There was darkness in him. He was ruthless, alien and strange,

and she wanted nothing to do with him. Her mind knew that, even if her body didn’t.

But she wanted her aunt for a little while longer; she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
“Fine. I’ll come with you.”
Brennus smiled in relief and, bizarrely, placed a hand out to her, his other arm reaching around her waist and drawing her close. “Will you dance with me, Avery?”
“W-what?” she stammered, completely dazed.
“I know how you love to dance.”
Tentatively Avery placed her hand in his and he drew her close, a rush of tingles exploding over her body at his close proximity. She hated herself and him for it. Slowly he

began to dance with her, until he was moving them towards the fire escape. He bent down at the window and gracefully stepped out of it onto the escape, reaching a
gentlemanly hand back in for her. Avery shuddered, throwing one last look over her shoulder, praying she could trust this dark being’s honour. With a deep breath she put a
foot out of the window and suddenly the world whirl pooled around her, her skin feeling as if it were being sucked into a vacuum. She fell into Brennus’ arms just as the

sensation began to disappear. She felt sick. She pushed against him and he steadied her, and when Avery glanced up her eyes widened. Pulling away from him, she took in the
room, felt the soft carpet beneath her feet.

“Uhh… where are we?”

I’m Gonna Choose you ‘Cause

You Have No Choice

The room was huge. High ceilings, oversized fireplace, sofas, and armchairs. Everything was the height of luxury, expense and style; from the fabrics to the vases, to the flat
screen television attached to one of the walls. Most breath-taking of all was the glass wall that looked out on to a wide balcony. Light flickered outside and Avery could just
make out the dark sea of greenery for miles around the house. Jeez, it was an estate.

“Upstate,” Brennus finally answered her, seeming reluctant to let go of her arm. “My home.”
Avery turned in a slow circle, drinking it all in. “You guys must make good money.”
“I was considered wealthy in my mortal life. We’re allowed to keep our mortal state of being.”
She nodded carefully, afraid to look at him. Standing in these modern, beautiful surroundings he seemed almost human. And she didn’t want to forget that he wasn’t.
“I have questions,” she told him quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Of course. That’s why you’re here. So we can get to know one another better.”
A morbid thought crossed her mind and she grimaced. “Who’s taking care of the dead while you’re here trying to schmooze me?”
Instead of answering Brennus gestured to one of the sofas near the fireplace. The flames flickered invitingly and Avery suddenly realised how cold she was in her pj bottoms

and camisole. Tentatively she sat down near the edge of the sofa, the heat from the fire licking her skin deliciously, little goosebumps rising all over her skin. She watched
curiously as Brennus walked over to a device on the wall near double doors. He pressed his finger to a touch screen and it made a buzzing sound.

“Sir?” a cultured accent asked softly.
Avery raised her eyebrow and Brennus smirked at her before speaking into the device. “Could we have a tea tray and some snacks sent up please, Ames?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Thank you.” Brennus pressed the touch screen again and then turned back to her.
Avery exhaled. “So how huge is this place?”
The annoying creature smirked at her again as he took a place across from her on the opposite sofa. “Which question shall I answer first?”
Trying to remember what the hell she’d asked first, Avery took a minute. Oh yeah, she slapped a hand to her head inwardly, the first, definitely the first. “Who’s taking

care of the dead?”

At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer her. He just stared at her and she shifted uncomfortably. The longer he stared, the hotter she felt, a strange fluttery feeling in

the pit of her stomach making her squirm. He was doing it deliberately.

Avery narrowed her eyes on him. “Well?”
“Apologies,” he replied in a low voice that made her tingle. “You’re just so beautiful.”
No one had ever told her she was beautiful before. And not like that. Josh had told her she was hot and a couple of guys had told her she was really cute. But not beautiful.

And somehow she believed (or maybe she just wanted to believe) that this alien, damaged man in front of her actually meant it. Along with the warm fluffies she was getting,
she was suddenly pissed off. “Yeah right,” she snapped. “You really gave me to time to dress for the occasion when you abducted me.”

Brennus threw her a look. “You came willingly.”
“I was blackmailed!”
“Same difference. You made a choice.”
The door cracked behind him and a small, older man with the best posture Avery had ever seen came into the room carrying a large tray that should have been too heavy

for him.

“Ah, Ames, thank you.” Brennus stood up and reached for the tray.
Ames nodded respectfully. “I hope everything is satisfactory, sir.” He didn’t even glance at Avery.
Brennus put the tray down and then turned back to Ames (the butler?!). “Ames, I’d like to introduce you to Avery.”
Avery fluttered her hand at him. “Hey.”
“Miss.” Ames gave her a little bow.
“Avery.” Brennus gestured to Ames. “Ames is my butler and the head of the household staff. If you have any problems or need anything, Ames will be more than happy to

assist you.”

“More than happy, miss,” Ames added congenially.
“Thank you,” she somehow managed to be polite. It wasn’t the butler’s fault that his employer was a twisted, blackmailing, kidnapping immortal son of the dead.
“Thank you, Ames.” Brennus dismissed him and the butler left the room without making so much as a peep.
It became clear, as Brennus fiddled with the tea, making up her cup (a splash of milk, one sugar – she didn’t even want to know how he knew how she took her tea!) and a

little plate with sandwiches and biscuits, that he wasn’t going to answer her question unless she asked it again. He was really going to make her work for it, which was so unfair
considering she was the one who apparently held the key to his future happiness (freedom).

“Well?” she snapped, jerking the cup out of his hand as he passed it to her. He threw her another one of those irritatingly wicked hot smiles. “Are you going to answer the

damn question or not?”

Settling back into his seat he watched her through narrowed eyes. “I’m going to assume your lack of manners this evening is due to the shock of discovering you have a soul

mate.”

Avery choked on her tea, a dribble of hot liquid rolling down her chin. She wiped at it furiously and nailed him to his chair with the deadly look. “Soul mate! Manners?! Are

you frickin’ kidding me?”

Brennus snorted. “You make my point brilliantly.”
“You arrogant, pain in the ass. You kidnapping, evil, twisted-”
“Yes, yes I get the point,” he sighed wearily. “I’ll refrain from teasing you.”
She reminded herself that her Aunt Caroline brought her up to be polite and in control of her emotions. Avery closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, calming breath. She

shook a little as she reached for her tea again.

“I have servants who help me with the dead,” Brennus answered suddenly and her eyes popped wide, staring at him, immediately intrigued despite herself. “We’re allowed

a handful to help carry the burden.”

“Who are they?”
“Men and women who died. Spirits.”
“And they take care of the dead you can’t get to?”
Brennus nodded. “They’re tied to me. They feel what I feel; they do what I would do.”
“How many spirits are tied to you?”
“Five.”
Avery gulped. This night just kept getting weirder and weirder. “Did they have a choice?”
Brennus sighed, seeming somewhat annoyed by the question. “Contrary to what my scar portrays I’m not some kind of ogre, Avery, forcing people to do things.”
She snorted.
Refusing to take the bait, Brennus sighed again. “Most people, nearly everyone, believe in some kind of afterlife, even if they don’t think they do. It can be buried deep

down, a precious piece of hope in something akin to paradise awaiting us after our lives here in this plane of existence end. But there are those few who never even
subconsciously dream to hope. They become spirits, shades, wandering the infinitesimal line between this plane and all the others.”

“Purgatory?”
He shook his head. “If you believe in purgatory then yes if you’ve not repented for your sins, but these people haven’t believed in anything. Not even the idea that we simply

cease to exist when we die-”

“So people who believe we just cease to exist…”
“They just cease to exist.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway, I’ve given the choice to a few of the spirits and they’ve chosen to do something with their strange existence and help me ferry the dead into their afterlife.”
Avery was engrossed despite herself. What Brennus was telling her was unbelievable. As a person of no religious affiliations it was astonishing to be told that our beliefs in

life were strong enough to determine our afterlife. For a moment her busy brain forgot she hated him. “OK, so say I believe in heaven, hell and purgatory. Where do I go when
I die?”

“If you believe in them then you believe in the rules. It all depends on how you lived your life.”
Avery huffed, a small smile playing on her lips. “Wow, Sarah would be so smug right now. She’s always going on and on about the power of belief.”
Brennus nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s very loyal, your Sarah.”
That statement jolted her back into reality. Jaw clenched tight with restrained emotion, Avery shook her head at him. “Please don’t tell me you’ve actually been watching

over me… as in stalking?”

He raised an eyebrow. “OK, I won’t tell you.”
“How can you be so blasé about this? Don’t you know what you’re doing is wrong?”
At the sudden stillness of his body, Avery knew she had angered him. She hated to think how quickly she was learning the nuances of him.
Those dark eyes settled on her and she felt an icy chill holding her stuck in place. “You made the choice to come with me and give me a chance to prove to you that we

belong together. Baiting me and continually throwing the choice I gave you in my face is not upholding your end of the bargain.”

Her blood sizzled under her skin but she nodded jerkily. “Fine.”
Warmth enveloped the room again and Avery shuddered, her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage. She was scared. And she hated being scared.
“So can I still ask questions?” she queried indignantly, determined he wasn't going to see how much he unsettled her.
Brennus appeared happy with her interest and smiled softly. “Of course. And then it’s my turn.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to snap ‘I thought you already knew everything about me?’ but she curbed the instinct and saw by the mischievous flicker in his eyes that he

knew exactly what she was thinking. “OK.”

“Fire away.”
The question she most wanted to ask was the one she was scared to ask.
What made someone like Brennus become an Ankou? Was it the power, the immortality he craved? And if it was, how could he possibly think he was the kind of man

she’d want? A man who would choose a morbid existence to live forever? There was just something so empty in that. “Why?” she whispered. “Why did you choose to be an
Ankou?”

“Ah.” He nodded, his face tightening, the scar seeming to pulse angrily, the masculine sharp lines of his jaw clenching. He shifted, his arm lengthening along the back of the

sofa, his legs crossing over. He stared into the fire, offering her his profile, the cheek without the scar. God, he was beautiful. That wasn’t true. But it was. Her breath hitched
and she looked away, even more terrified of how attracted she was to him than the answer to his question. He didn’t seem to notice her inner turmoil. “I thought you might ask
that,” he continued. “I will tell you.” He turned back to her, the contrast between his nearly unblemished profile and ravaged front transfixing her. “I don’t like telling this story
but I promised we would be honest with one another and so for you I’ll… I’ll explain.”

Avery thought her heart might explode in her chest. Somehow it was only now beginning to dawn on her that this being, this immortal, powerful being had chosen her, had

latched onto her. Little ol’ her. It was utterly terrifying.

“I was a mortal man during the 2

nd

Century A.D. I came from a long line of strong, capable Celts. Britons. By the time of my birth my family were Romano-Britons, and by

the age of fifteen I was a wealthy, arrogant tradesman in Londinium. At the time Londinium was considered a large city even then, an important centre of commercialism and
trading. Coupled with my father’s wealth… we were very successful and important. We dined each month at the governor’s palace, rubbed elbows with the elite. In fact I
married a Roman girl. My father liked her father’s status and her father liked my money.”

Avery kept very still; afraid she would break the mesmerising spell he seemed to be under.
“Her name was Anonna. She was beautiful and I was captivated by her. I thought I loved her,” he grunted. Avery felt the bitterness swell out of him. “Not long after we

wed, a great plague hit Londinium as well as the rest of Western Europe. It took hold of Anonna. When the Ankou came for her I could see him, I could see him in my utter
desperation to stay with her. So he offered me a choice.”

Without having to be told, Avery knew what that choice had been. In a way he was offering her the same thing. Brennus caught her own bitter smile and he nodded gravely.

“Yes, he offered me the choice to save her. In return I would become one of the Ankou.”

At that moment Avery hated him. She hated him for having sacrificed himself for someone he loved, because it drew them deeper into this strange connection. She hated

him for his honourable reason for becoming an Ankou. Why couldn’t he have just been a soulless demon who craved immortality and power? Instead he was a man capable of
such immense love he had literally sold his soul for Anonna.

Deep down, she hated him for that too.
“You must love her very much,” Avery whispered, disgusted by the prickles of jealously crawling across her chest.
Brennus snorted. “It wasn’t love. It was infatuation. I didn’t even know her that well.”
Avery frowned. “But you were married.”
He shrugged. “Times were different then. A wife was property. I thought because we were kind and considerate of one another, enjoyed one another inside and out of the

bedroom, that it meant something. But I didn’t really take the time to get to know my wife. If I had looked closely enough I would have seen the spoilt brat that she was and
her poisonous, never-ending need for attention.”

“Wait, I’m confused. If you have such contempt for this woman, why on earth did you give up your mortality for her?”
She could tell he was growing agitated by the subject but Avery had to know, she needed to know if he still loved this woman. She wasn’t even going to question why.
“When I became Ankou I was given Londinium as my province. I kept watch over my wife. I discovered she had been having an affair with my father behind my back.”
His father! Ugh! Avery grimaced. “Your father?!”
He caught her look and smirked. "My father was only fifteen years older than me and I was only nineteen when I married Anonna-”
“You were nineteen when you died?” she gasped, disbelieving. Nineteen year old guys tended to have that cute in-between boyhood and manhood thing going on. Brennus

was just all raw masculinity… no boyishness anywhere in sight.

He laughed lightly. “Twenty. We looked older back then. Life was harder.”
She nodded, still unbelieving. “OK. Sorry… you were saying…”
“Well my father was still in his prime and was considered very handsome. So was I before I was scarred.”
“I’ll bet,” she murmured, her eyes washing over Brennus, thinking what his wicked smile did to her insides. It made her forget the unforgettable mar.
His dark eyes caught her and they glistened in the light. A soft sensual smile played on his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She blushed but rolled her eyes, waving him off. “OK, so your father was only thirty four and a hottie… it’s still gross.”
“I agree,” he growled. “But my father and I were competitive and he decided to take it to a new level with Anonna. He wanted to prove he could have and do anything I

could have and do. Anonna didn’t care if she was betraying me. When we married my face was unscarred. But, as I said, I was arrogant and selfish back then. One day I was
out at market discussing transport of stone from a nearby quarry with a client when a man I had ceased doing business with approached me. He had been a wool merchant and
we had done fine deals with one another for years. I had turned my back on our business relationship six months before when told his wife and child had died from an illness
that sounded suspiciously like plague; my disinterest made others follow suit, and callously I did nothing to stop it. I even laughed at the poor man’s misfortune. So he attacked
me, slashing me deep across the face, screaming that now I would know what it felt like to be abhorred. And he was right. Anonna flinched from me. Foolishly I convinced
myself I understood, having worshipped beauty all my life I realised how difficult it must be for her to be faced with my disfigurement. But I thought that underneath she still
loved me. I realise now that instead she had turned to my father.”

“So you kind of made a big mistake giving up your life for hers huh,” she stated sadly, actually feeling bad for him. At least she knew if she made the decision to save her

Aunt Caroline that she was doing it for the most decent person she had ever had the privilege of knowing.

“Yes,” his voice was low again, hoarse with the old pain. “But Anonna got her comeuppance.”
“What happened?”
“The plague ravaged Londinium and although the city remained important during Roman reign it never really recovered economically. My mother died in childbirth, my father

was wifeless. A year after my death he offered marriage to Anonna. She was sleeping with him as well as the governor. When the governor heard of my father’s proposal he
told Anonna that he would make her his mistress, a wealthy mistress, if she refused my father. My father was struggling financially at the time, he still had his wealth but he
wasn’t adding to it, so Anonna snubbed my father and became a kept woman. Her own father had died in the plague so she didn’t have anyone she was disappointing.”

“Except your father.”
Brennus nodded at her, his eyes soft on her. “Yes. Except father. Who foolishly, like me, loved her.”
“What happened to her?” She almost dreaded knowing.
“The governor was cruel. As soon as she agreed to the contract of being his mistress his attitude changed.” Brennus’ eyes darkened. “She was subjected to vile things.

Things even she didn’t deserve.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yes. If I were a harder man I would say it was justice for what she had done to me, but, in the end, it had been my choice to sacrifice myself for her. One night the

governor beat Anonna so badly she begged for death. So I came.”

A well of deep sadness opened up inside Avery and she felt her eyes prick with tears. Unbelievably, she felt for him. For him. “You granted her mercy even after what she

did to you?”

“Yes,” Brennus replied softly. “I gave her the choice.”
Avery gasped. “Anonna is Ankou?”
At his slight nod, at the clenching of his jaw, her heart began to race a little. She felt a little sick. “Anonna is Ankou.”
So… his ex was immortal. Did they still…? “Do you still see her?”
Brennus raised an eyebrow. “You think the Ankou have time for social events?”
“Yeah. You have spirit dudes to help you out remember.”
He chuckled. “OK, so sometimes we bump into one another. We aren’t supposed to though.”
“Do you bump into Anonna?”
“She bumps into me.” He frowned and looked away. “Like me, death has changed her.”
Great. His ex was still hanging around. “Where’s her area?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Texas.”
Avery felt even sicker. “Has it always been Texas?”
Brennus threw her a look. “You know it can’t possibly have been.”
“How long has it been Texas?”
He inspected a piece of lint on his trousers. “Nine years.”
For some inexplicable reason Avery felt more than a little annoyed. “She followed you?”
He shrugged.
“Your ex isn’t quite over you, huh?”
Again with the shrugging!
An awful thought occurred. “I don’t look like her, do I?”
At his deep chuckle Avery narrowed her eyes on him. This sooo wasn’t funny. “Avery.” He shook his head. “You are nothing like Anonna. You don’t look like her, you

don’t act like her and you feel nothing like her. She has nothing to do with what’s between us.”

She sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “There isn’t anything between us.”
At the sound of material whispering against material, Avery looked up as Brennus stood slowly and crossed over to her, as lithe as a big cat. He sank down beside her on

the sofa, so close she could feel that delicious warmth radiating from him. She gulped, trying to shift away from him but she was already at the very edge of the sofa. He leaned
back, his arm drifting across the back of the sofa, his fingers flicking her ponytail. “If there was nothing between us, Avery,” he whispered and edged a little closer, his dark
eyes fixated on her mouth, “You wouldn’t be jealous of Anonna.”

Her mouth fell open at his arrogance. “Jealous!” She spluttered. “I am not jealous! I don’t even know you to be jealous!”
“You keep saying that but you know it isn’t true.”
God, the man was insufferable. He may quite possibly be even more annoying than Josh. She threw him a dirty sideways glance and turned away from him to stare into the

fire. She felt the heat of his finger on her skin as he trailed it down her arm, goosebumps following in its wake. She shivered and told herself she hated him for it.

“Stop it.”
“I like touching you.”
“You’re a creep.”
“Avery,” he warned.
She shrugged, still refusing to look at him.
“It’s my turn you know.”
Despite herself, Avery whipped her head around to glare at him. “Your turn to what?”
“To ask the questions.”
She shrugged. “Fair is fair. Go ahead.”
His smile slipped and he was glaring at her again.
“What?!”
“Why on earth did you date Josh for three years?”
Avery groaned and flopped back on the sofa, not caring if her head was cushioned against his arm. She should have known his question would be related to sex and

relationships somehow.

My Name is Yours…

Can I Sleep on your Floor?

He interrogated her for what seemed hours. Avery was surprised by the things he knew about her life. After she stumbled through a clumsy explanation of why Josh had been
perfect for her in high school, Brennus nodded, telling her he knew about her fear over being centre of attention. He said he still remembered her freak out at her junior prom
when the prom committee told her she had been nominated for prom court. She had urged Josh to leave, practically prostituting her way out of the situation by promising him a
chance to go to third base with her if he did. Brennus glared and she glared back, demanding to know if he had stuck around for the rest of the show that night. His face

mottled red with seething anger but he shook his head. “I for one am a gentleman,” he said, reminding her that Josh had humiliated her anyway by telling all his friends the next
day that he’d gone down on her the night before. Come to think of it, she couldn’t believe she’d stayed with him as long as she had.

Among his seemingly never-ending questions, Brennus apologised for embarrassing her when he danced with her at 4.0. Immediately she felt ashamed because he seemed

to know she had been humiliated to be seen with him and his scarred face. Somehow she found herself apologising back, telling him she couldn’t help it, her fear of being
noticed by crowds of people was some psychological bullshit she’d picked up after the death of her parents. But they both knew that was only half the truth. Suddenly, Avery
wondered why he wanted anything to do with her. She wasn’t the nicest person.

When he was done unravelling her little mysteries, Brennus finally let her drift off into sleep just as the sun broke the horizon.
Avery awoke hours later, the vast darkness beyond the glass windows telling her she’d slept all day. It had been a wonderful, dreamless sleep. She felt refreshed for the first

time in a long time.

A throat clearing above her head shot Avery upwards, and she found herself gazing into the grey eyes of Ames.
“Miss.” He nodded his head congenially at her. “Sir has asked me to show you to your room where you can freshen up, have a bite to eat and get dressed for tonight.”
“Tonight?” she queried slowly, rising to her feet to follow Ames who was already heading out the door. “What’s tonight?”
“Sir has plans for you both.”
That sounded ominous. Shivering in her pj’s now that she was no longer near the fire, Avery hurried to follow Ames through the gorgeous modern house straight out of

Interior Design Magazine. He took her up this huge, wide staircase with chunky oak banisters to the second floor. At the end of the hall was a double set of doors. He thrust
them open with a flourish and Avery gaped as he led her inside the bedroom suite. It was bigger than her and Caroline’s apartment in Brooklyn. A king-size bed dominated
one side of the room, sitting on a massive circular dais. The other side of the room had an ornate fireplace to equal the one downstairs. Avery shivered deliciously. It was lit.
There were sofas and chairs, an entertainment unit. Her eyes widened as they passed over the open doors to a walk-in closet bigger than their Brooklyn sitting room. The
bedroom must have faced the same way as the sitting room downstairs, for another glass wall dominated, leading out onto a balcony that looked over Brennus’ estate.

“Through that door is the bathroom, miss. Why don’t you freshen up? There are some clothes that should fit quite well in the closet. I’ll have a tray of food sent up.”
Avery was in a complete daze as Ames left, shutting the doors behind him. She numbly followed his directions and wandered into the bathroom.
“Holy moly…” she breathed.
Correction. The bathroom was bigger than her apartment.
Floor to ceiling, the bathroom was decked out in lavish travertine and gold. There was a spa in one corner, a claw footed tub in the middle of the room, and separated by a

tiled wall, a wet room at the back. Before she had time to think about it she was stripping out of her clothes and heading with excitement towards to the wet room. Three
shower heads came on automatically as she stepped inside and Avery gasped at the shock of the beautifully warm water hitting her skin. She sighed happily and leaned back
against the wall. That’s when her eyes fell on the shelving unit built into the wet room. It was like something out of a his and hers catalogue. The top shelf had men’s shampoo
and conditioner, aftershave, deodorant, razor, shaving foam, shower gel. All of it used. The bottom shelf had her favourite shampoo and conditioner, deodorant, coconut
shower gel, shaving foam and the Gillette Venus razor she preferred. None of it used. Her heart thudded in her chest and she struggled to draw breath.

This was Brennus’ bedroom suite.
And clearly he had been waiting for her to join him in it for a while.
His harsh face flashed before her eyes and she shuddered, confused and disgusted for the way she felt about her would-be kidnapper.
“You’re only nineteen,” she whispered to herself, ripping the shampoo down off the shelf and popping it open. She began lathering it into her hair in jerky, angry motions.

“You’re just a girl, being manipulated by a much older man. Well… he is only twenty.” She bit her lip and then shook her head, sending stinging shampoo foam into her eye.
She groaned. “Twenty give or take a couple of thousand years. He has a lifetime or thirty on you… he knows how to play the game.”

Avery snorted at herself. She was talking crap. To herself.
Suddenly scared Brennus might decide to show up Avery rushed through the rest of the shower and hurried back out into the suite, wrapped modestly in a huge bath towel.

She was still alone. Except now there was a tray of gorgeous smelling food on the table by the sofa. Stomach grumbling she sauntered into the walk-in closet and her towel
promptly dropped.

“Holy hell…” Her fingers brushed the rows of folded jeans, t-shirts. The skirts, all colours, all lengths, hanging on the rails. Dresses, coats, jackets. Drawers that opened to

reveal underwear, pretty underwear… sexy underwear?!

There were even drawers with jewellery and perfume. Racks of shoes, sneakers, boots, belts, bags, purses, hats, scarves... All in her size, all to her taste.
“I think you should be a little more creeped out than you are, Ave,” she whispered shakily, drawing on a pair of panties, bra, black jeans and a shirt. Her gaze fell on the

other side of the closet where the layout matched this side. Except it was filled with what was clearly Brennus’ stuff.

“You get everything you need?”
She squealed like an idiot and whirled around to see him smirking at her. “JeSUS!” She glared at him and brushed past him, ignoring the sparks that shot down her arm

where their bodies met.

Thumping down on to the sofa, she grabbed at the food tray and began digging in, glaring at him the whole time as he took the seat opposite her. She swallowed when he

refused to look away. “You know this is all just a little too Virginia Andrews for my liking.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“The clothes, the accessories, the shampoo!” Avery shook her head in disbelief. “It’s creepy, Brennus.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. Her eyes widened a little. Was he embarrassed?
“Perhaps I went overboard.” He shrugged sheepishly, no longer meeting her eyes. “I just wanted you to be comfortable.”
For some inexplicable reason Avery felt bad for upsetting him. “I know. The thought was nice… if poorly executed.”
Brennus frowned, looking up. “The things weren’t to your liking?”
“Of course. It was just… doing what you’ve done… it’s alarming and a little… gothic.”
He surprised her by chuckling, the sound tugging at her belly. She flushed. God, Josh had never made her feel this way. Sex with him had been perfunctory and boring.

Somehow she knew with Brennus it would different. When she looked back over at him, his eyebrows were raised speculatively and she had the weirdest feeling he knew
what she had been thinking. Avery blushed even harder and he responded with a wicked grin.

“Sorry, if I ‘freaked you out’, as you kids say today.”
She snorted ignoring the heat in her cheeks. “Could you sound any older?”
“Yes.”
Rolling her eyes at him, it took her a minute to remember she was supposed to be pissed off at him. She stopped smiling and dropped her gaze.
“Avery,” he moaned softly as if her coldness physically hurt him.
Ignoring his plea, she shrugged and continued to eat. When she was done, she leaned back and concentrated on his scar, waiting for the ripples of revulsion she had first felt

when she saw him. She bit her lip, telling herself she still felt them. She thought of Sarah and Jemima and how freaked out they’d be if she started seeing this guy. Even the
knowledge of their humiliating judgement didn’t bring on the ripples. How long had she been here? It felt like forever.

“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” She asked softly. Giving in.
Brennus stood up and held a hand out to her. “For one night only… I’m going to show you my world.”

I Wonder What it’s Like…

Walking by your Side

The last place Avery expected to end up was the hospital. One minute she was shrugging on a jacket (this gorgeous leather bomber… so soft… she wanted to die – if her aunt
saw her in it she would) and taking Brennus’ hand. The next minute, the whirlpool thing happened and they were standing in a brightly lit hospital corridor, nurses and doctors
rushing by. Not one of them looked at them and when a short, flustered-looking doctor headed straight toward her as if she were invisible, Avery yelped and pushed Brennus
aside so the doctor didn’t walk straight into her.

“What the hell…” she snapped, glaring at the doctor as he hurried off. She was all for not being centre of attention but that was just ruuudddee.
She stiffened at the sound of Brennus’ chuckle and spun around slowly to pin him to the wall with a ‘ferocious’ look. “What?”
He smiled at her, the scar stretching up on his cheek. It seemed more prominent under the fluorescent lights. It must have hurt when he got it, she thought, feeling a pang of

pain for him. “Avery, no one can see us.”

Her eyes widened incredulously. “We’re invisible?”
He nodded, the smile slipping from his face as he sobered. “We’re here for the dead.”
Once more he held out his hand and tentatively she took it, tears prickling painfully in the back of her eyes for some reason. Despite everything inside her screaming for her

to run in the opposite direction, Avery followed Brennus as he wandered into the ICU. His shoulders seemed to hunch over as they walked into a private room. A teenage girl
lay broken on the bed. An older man and woman were curled up together on the sofa against the wall, their faces strained with terror even in their sleep. As she stood there
with Brennus, an icy cold descended on the room and the heart monitor by the bed went crazy as the waves on the screen flat lined. Nurses and a doctor rushed into the room,
pushing paddles on a trolley, and Brennus pulled Avery out of the way, guessing she wouldn’t enjoy the sensation of someone running right through her. They worked in a calm
hurry to save the girl’s life, her parents held back by a nurse as the doctor attempted to stop the inevitable. Brennus stepped forward through the medical team and brushed the
girl’s hair off her face. Gently he bent down and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to her forehead.

Avery tended to cry if someone else did and as the man and woman sobbed hysterically when the doctor pronounced, ‘Time of death, 20:16,’ Avery felt a hot tear score

her cheek as her throat muscles clenched together, determined to hold back her answering sob.

She felt the brush of Brennus’ fingers on her cheek and she looked up at him. He stared back with such love, she felt her knees buckle.

*

For the rest of the night he took her from pillar to post, answering the call of the dead. Each person he treated gently. Respectfully. Sombrely.
He was the most beautifully sad thing she had ever seen.

I’m Gonna Kiss the Parts

that you have Lost

After such an exhaustingly emotional night, Avery was surprised when Brennus suggested they go dancing the next evening. Her first instinct had been to flinch inwardly at the
thought of being seen at 4.0 with Brennus. As soon as the thought floated out into the verse she berated herself. When had she grown into such a shallow, hateful person?

“I didn’t mean 4.0.” Brennus shook his head. “Your friends might be there.”
She wanted to tell him she wasn’t ashamed to be seen with him. But she wasn’t sure if that was true or not. God. She was disgusted with herself.
Seeming to read her mind, Brennus smirked. “You are remembering that you consider yourself my captive, right, Avery?”
She straightened her shoulders and nodded at him. “Yeah. Right. Forgot about that.” She felt a little better about herself.
But Brennus was grinning that wicked grin that did funny things to her insides, the kind of funny things that made her wish he would just grab her and kiss her already.

“Forgot hmm? I’ll call that progress.”

Avery grimaced. “That’s not what I meant.”

She had to admit that choosing an outfit for going dancing was difficult. Brennus had great taste. Understated, classy. In the end she chose a pair of skinny jeans and a silk

top that tied into a gorgeous floppy bow behind her neck, the wide ribbons sliding sensually across her back as she moved. Her stilettos were emerald green to match the

colour of the top. Her clutch matched too. She shook her head. Where had he gotten all of this stuff? She wondered, shrugging on a little cropped jacket a lot like the one
she had at home.

Avery tried not to shiver at Brennus’ approving regard as they got ready to leave. He wore a black cashmere jumper that moulded to his well-defined body. With all the

delicious things she was starting to notice about him, the scar was beginning to fade into the background. She wasn’t sure if she even saw it now.

They ended up at a club downtown she had never gone to before. It was a lot smaller than 4.0 and it was in a basement, but the DJ had good taste in music. At first she felt

awkward walking into the club with Brennus. People stared and Brennus had to hold her hand and infuse that calm over her so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. Inside, the staring
continued, following Brennus as he left Avery at the edge of the dance floor to get drinks. He was back in record time and she shook her head in bemusement as her gaze took
in the crowds around the bar. I’m not even going to ask, she thought as she sipped her JD and coke. As they watched the people on the throbbing dance floor, the music
teasing Avery, twitching its fingers on her hips and urging her towards the main floor, she wondered if Brennus even enjoyed this kind of dancing. Sure, he liked holding her
close and swaying to the lilt of good old Paul Weller… but R&B, hip hop…?

When she finished her drink, Brennus took her glass and dumped it on a nearby table with his own. Then he was taking her hand and leading her into the throng of figures.

His strong arms caught around her waist, nudging up the silk of her shirt so his fingers brushed her bare skin. She sucked in her breath as goosebumps exploded in ripples
across her flesh. Her heart raced harder, faster as he drew her into the heat of his body. She had her answer.

Brennus knew how to dance.
The music was like a drug. She forgot who she was. Who he was. That he scared people. That people were staring. Instead she slid her arms up across his chest to lock

around his neck, enjoying the way his eyes flared with heat. It was enthralling to have someone with his power in her control.

Seconds later Avery wished she had never dared that arrogant thought.
As his hips caught hers, their bodies sliding across one another, she realised he wasn’t in her control.
His head dipped and he brushed a tentative kiss across her lips.
She was in his.
Avery groaned and tugged him back, pressing her lips harder against his gorgeous mouth, widening her own invitingly. He took the invitation with a dangerous growl that

shocked her, his kiss deep, his tongue dancing with hers in the most carnal make-out session she’d ever had. As she felt the press of him, felt his excitement against her hip,
Avery curled into him, her fingernails clawing into his skin as if afraid he wasn’t real. She deepened the kiss. It was wet. Hard. Aggressive. So not her. Yet she’d never felt
more like herself. His hand slid down her back, stroking the sensitive dimples on her lower back, his other sliding up, his thumb stroking the underside of her breast. Her needy
whimper purred against his mouth and Brennus broke the kiss abruptly. They both stared wide-eyed at one another, struggling to draw breath. Avery’s whole body was on fire
and she knew by the heat in his dark eyes, Brennus’ was feeling that burn.

Oh my God, she stumbled back a little. What the hell was she doing?!
“I um… I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, knowing somehow he could hear her.
He nodded tightly, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll have a beer. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Brennus brushed past her, blurring through the crowds.
Avery exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest where her heart beat a rapid tattoo. “I’m officially losing it,” she whispered and made her way towards the bar.
For some reason Avery seemed to have whatever magic Brennus had, and people groaned in irritation as the bartender ignored everyone to take her order. She was back

on the dance floor in minutes. But there was still no Brennus. She sipped her drink, suddenly feeling awkward to be alone. She’d never felt that way before. Only 48 hours in
this guy’s company and he’s stripping you of your independence. She shook her head in determination. Stay strong, Ave, stay strong. She licked her lips. She could still
taste him. Avery winced at her own weakness.

As she waited, a good-looking guy a few inches shorter than Brennus sauntered up to her, all arrogant smile and cocky twinkle in the eye. She studied him as he

approached. His hair was an in-between colour. Not dark brown, not light brown. Not dark enough, she mused. And his eyes, she thought, as he stopped in front of her. They
were blue. She liked dark eyes. Black as jet.

“Hey sweetheart.” The guy knocked his glass against hers in greeting. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing standing here all alone?”
The guy turned out to be pretty hard to shake. He went from casual flirty to obnoxious in knot to sixty seconds. His hand brushed familiarly down her cheek and she jerked

back, telling him politely to back off. He didn’t. Instead he urged her to dance with him. She said no. He wrapped an arm around her waist, laughing, and cajoling her onto the
dance floor. She dug in her heels and told him if he didn’t remove his hand she’d remove his testicles.

He blanched and backed off, muttering under his breath about the trials of frigid high school girls.
Avery shook her head at his departure and turned a little. Her breath caught. Brennus just stood there a few metres away, watching her. He gave her a slight smile and

headed over to her. She decided he had a sexy walk. Confident, even though he had to be aware people were staring at his scar, pointing and judging, making him ‘other’.

“You OK?” He asked, taking his beer from her and placing a proprietary hand on her hip. She tried to mind. But it was too exhausting.
“You saw?”
“The jerk? Yeah.”
Avery frowned. If Josh had been there, there would have been blood and drama and hyperventilation. “He was an asshole.”
Brennus shrugged and smiled at her. “I knew you could handle it.”
Delicious warmth spread across her chest and she answered his smile with a wide grin. He made her feel eight feet tall. “Yeah?”
“Of course. I would have stepped in if you needed me, but I knew you didn’t.”
“Josh doesn’t think I can handle anything.”
“Well, Josh isn’t a two thousand year old Ankou who fought you for your life and lost.”
At that she burst out laughing. Real, happy laughter. The first in many months.
She hated to admit it, but she was kind of starting to like this guy. “Thank you.”
Brennus grinned back and took her hand, leading her back onto the dance floor. By the look in his eyes, she knew he was going to kiss her again.

And she was going to let him.

The Song You Sing Today

Wasn’t Always in Your Head

Avery was thankful that Brennus was sleeping elsewhere. He seemed to render her willpower non-existent. That’s why, the next morning, after lying in bed replaying the night
before over and over in her head, flushing hot with how intimate it got, Avery began to pull away. At breakfast she answered his questions in monosyllabic tones, one word
responses. When they took a walk in the estate in the woods, she pretended to hate the fresh crisp air and stunning surroundings. When he reached to brush her hair off her
face and press a kiss to her lips, she jerked away from him like she’d been stung and made her way into the sitting room. Despite the fact her heart was racing a mile a minute
and her lips tingled as if he really had kissed her, Avery flopped down on the sofa with an air of indifference and clicked on the flat screen. She only got through the first minute
of a Friends re-run before the television screen blinked, the screen going black. Drawing on all her determination, she craned her neck around to see Brennus holding the
remote and glaring down at her.

“What?” she snapped.
His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and then he was sitting down on the opposite sofa, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned towards her.
“What’s going on?”
She shrugged.
“Avery… why are you pulling away? Is it because of last night?”
“I’m not pulling away,” she huffed. “Maybe I’m just not a very nice person.”
When he rolled his eyes at her, Avery had to hold back a smile. It was such a un-Brennus-like expression it was comical on him. “Right,” he replied sarcastically. “Or

maybe you’re just writing this off before it’s even begun.”

Anger rippled through her at the suggestion. “Writing this off? I have the chance to save Aunt Caroline’s life… you think I’m writing this off?”
At her retort Brennus’ expression darkened, a sad rejection entering his eyes before he thought to curb it. A twinge of pain originating from her chest drew into a battle with

her mind. She had to stop feeling bad every time she hurt his feelings!

“This can’t just be about saving Aunt Caroline, Avery. It won’t work. It has to be about you and me too.”
Avery shook her head. “Brennus, Caroline is everything to me. If I do this, then it’s because of her.”
“You would trade your life for hers in a sense then?” He frowned. “Why? Why is she everything?”
It seemed like such a silly question. But then she took a moment to remember that Brennus had only ever had people in his life that had betrayed and hurt him. When he had

traded his life… in the end it had been for the wrong person.

She leaned back more comfortably into the sofa and smiled at the thought of her aunt. “Because… she gave up a free and easy life to raise a pre-pubescent child. She

taught me to be a person with good values and principles. She’s never cared what anyone else thinks about her and she’s never judged me because I do care. She’s always
pointed me in the right direction. She helped me make decisions that have made my life better. In school she was on the school newspaper and she said it was really fun, so I
joined the school newspaper and I met Sarah. Aunt Caroline played volleyball, so she taught me, and I tried out for the team and I played for the last three years in school and
met some really great people. She had such an amazing time at NYU doing journalism that I knew I would too, and I did, the little time I was there.” It was true. She wouldn’t
know how to be without Caroline. All the biggest decisions in her life had been shaped by her. Suddenly her chest felt tight with panic.

“What about your parents?”
Avery frowned at the abruptness of the question and the question itself. “What about my parents?”
He shrugged slightly. “Well, what was your relationship with them like?”
The vice on her chest tightened. “I don’t know. I was a kid.”
“You were ten. You must remember them.”
Her skin felt too tight. She scratched the nape of her neck and looked into the fireplace, escaping the penetrating darkness of Brennus’ gaze. She got the creepy feeling he

knew her thoughts before she did. “I don’t know. They were great. They loved me… I don’t know.” She shrugged again and her eyes prickled with frustrated tears. Angry
tears. Self-directed angry tears. “I guess I was kind of a brat.”

“Brat, how?”
Avery laughed hollowly. “They did a lot of things for me. Mostly because I would throw a fit otherwise.”
The corner of Brennus’ mouth quirked up. “Sounds like every kid on the planet.”
She shook her head. “Not every kid. I mean… I really pushed them.” She snorted thinking back. “When I was six we were in the department store and I saw this

gorgeous doll house, big enough for me to fit in. It must have cost a fortune because when I said I wanted it, my mom, who spoiled me rotten, said maybe for Christmas. So I
got inside the doll house and wouldn’t come out. The manager came over, other customers were looking. Ugh. My mom was so embarrassed she bought the house. I think I
played in it twice.” She shook her head, that deep buried guilt starting to burrow its way out. “When I was eight, I watched Something to Talk About with my mom and
decided I needed a pony. I gave my parents the silent treatment for an entire month.” She raised her eyebrows ignoring his smirk. “Do you have any idea how difficult that is for
a little girl? A month of no talking. My parents were going out of their minds, arguing with one another, my dad telling my mom to give in, my mom telling him they had to have
some boundaries. God, I remember it like it was yesterday. Anyway… they eventually signed me up for riding lessons and the first time they put me on the horse I screamed
and cried, terrified of the damn thing. My mom was pretty smug about that to my dad.”

Brennus was shaking with laughter. “You sound horrifying.”
She wanted to laugh at herself. But she couldn’t. “And then when I was ten, our class did a project on capital cities and I was given London. I did all this stuff on

Buckingham Palace and the Royal Family, on the Royal Ballet, on the West End… you know, the stuff little girl’s dreams are made of,” she whispered now. “So after another
endless semester of tantrums my parents cancelled our annual trip to the Cape and booked us a trip to Europe.”

A chill fell over the room and this time Brennus had nothing to do with it.
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Avery-”
“You know what!” Avery stood up abruptly, a false smile pasted on her face. “I could go pizza for lunch. I know this great place… in Westchester, believe it or not.”
When he smiled softly and stood up to take her hand without saying a word, without forcing her to admit what was buried deep down inside, without forcing her to wonder

if she became a person at all or was merely moulded into someone who already existed because she was the kind of girl who hadn’t gotten her parent’s killed, Avery’s heart
seemed to miss a couple of beats. Willpower, she whispered inwardly, willpower.

***

“You know I was a real dick when I was a mortal.”

Avery nearly choked on her pizza at Brennus’ random comment. She snorted and coughed, trying not to laugh harder as he grinned wickedly at her.
They were sitting in Papa’s Pizza eating the most delicious pepperoni pizza she had ever tasted, munching in comfortable silence as she tried to shrug off her moment of

naked vulnerability with him. He had gotten things out of her that no one had. And he hadn’t even done anything but ask a couple of ‘innocent’ questions. So when he called
himself a dick in a family restaurant, it made her feel better. Just as he intended.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled. “What were you like?”
He shrugged, smirking. “Not very nice.”
“Oh, come on, you have to give me more than that.”
Brennus nodded, his eyes twinkling. He lay down his slice and wiped his fingers with his napkin. “I was very arrogant.”
Avery snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He laughed and she could see people looking at them from the corner of her eye. She would be searching too for the source of that gorgeous, chocolate laughter. But she

knew that wasn’t why they were looking. It startled her to realise that they had been sitting there all this time and until now she hadn’t felt the stares of the public who were
intrigued and repulsed by Brennus’ shockingly scarred face. The more time she spent around him, the more the scar just became a part of him. It had stopped bothering her.
And when she was with him, she didn’t panic when people stared.

“OK.” He chuckled. “I deserved that. But I mean I was a snob. Arrogant. Superior. Often unkind because of it. Saying it was a different time is no excuse. I believed myself

above others and thus they were below my notice or my kindness.”

“Were you physically cruel?” she asked carefully, fearful of his answer.
Brennus shook his head. “I’m a very big man and aware of my physical prowess over others. I knew using it against them could be dangerous and unfair. I was arrogant but

I had a little sense of honour. No, mostly I was condescending and curt. I had little patience for most people and very little sympathy for the plight of others.”

“What’s the worst thing you ever did?” It was such a morbid question but if she was to give this man a chance, if she was to have any chance of loving him, then she had to

know this stuff. They didn’t have the luxury of time to figure it all out.

Nodding his head, Avery knew Brennus understood that. He sighed heavily and took a sip of his coffee. His face had grown a little stark, like his skin was stretched too

tight over the bones of his face. “The worst thing I ever did… was to a friend. Caedmon. We grew up together. Both our families were well off, we were of an age. Very close.
And stupid. We got into quite a tangle over women.”

Avery could just imagine them. Two good looking rich boys devastating the town. “What age were you?”
“Sixteen.”
Her jaw dropped and he laughed. It was dark and… roguish. She shivered. “Boys were men at sixteen. And Caedmon and I liked to prove we were the biggest men of our

peer group.”

“What happened?”
Brennus exhaled. “His father died, leaving them with debts. His mother prostituted herself and Caedmon couldn’t find work. They were ostracised and I was afraid if I

remained friends with Caedmon I would lose my own good standing. So I deserted him.”

“Brennus,” she whispered sympathetically, seeing the guilt he still carried after all these years.
“Caedmon joined auxilia, the corp of the Imperial Roman Army open to imperial subjects who weren’t Roman citizens. They were heavy infantry, did as much as a

legionnaire. He left. I never saw him again. But when I became Ankou it was easy to discover truths. He died in action… only a year into his career as a soldier.” Brennus
shook his head slowly. “He should have died a wealthy tradesman with a beautiful wife and ten children.”

Avery reached forward and touched his arm gently. “If he stayed he could have died in the plague. Or took a fever. Or drowned. Or-”
He held up his hand cutting her off, a cynical smile curving his lips. “You’re really going to try to rationalise for me?”
Remembering he hadn’t pushed her, she grimaced and pulled back. “You’re right. Sorry. You feel bad for abandoning your friend. I get it.”
He nodded solemnly. “Mayhap I would have grown into a better man… my father was a decent man. Instead I became an immortal and death changed me. I grew up fast.”
Avery nodded, understanding perfectly. “It has a tendency to do that to a person.”
Their gazes caught and her heart sped up. She felt that flush of heat all over.
Worse… she didn’t feel alone anymore.

It’s Gonna Cost You but

You Might Hurt Less

I feel like I’m fighting what I want because of what my world expects from me. My friends would call him creepy stalker guy; Aunt Caroline would say he was too
old for me guy; pop culture would say he’s the devil guy; and the person I was five days ago would call him a blackmailing, ruthless son-of-a-bitch guy. And I guess

that last part is still kind of true. But I’m not so sure about the other stuff. If he really is that guy that my world describes, shouldn’t I be deterred? Shouldn’t I want
to run in the opposite direction? Shouldn’t I be terrified of him? Because I’m not. I’ve never felt safer. I’ve never felt more like a person who isn’t scared to make
my own choices… and that in itself scares the crap out of – if that even makes sense.

Last night we took a walk around the estate. I let him hold me. Kiss me. I kissed him back. My lips gave to him what they never gave to Josh. I don’t even feel

guilty for that. But I’m scared. Did I say that already? I wasn’t scared last night. Last night we lay on his incredibly comfortable bed… and we talked. I spoke about
my mom and dad, which I never do. The kind of people they were. The way they lived. Loved. He told me about eternity. What he’d seen and done. He’s not perfect.
He’s made choices maybe some people wouldn’t have but at the same time I don’t think I’ve met a man with more heart. He’s kind of hard to hate. Too easy to lov-

We held hands last night. I woke up entangled in him.
Have you ever had moments of absolute peace? Like nothing can touch you? Only moments, they never last long… but when they do it’s this sense of lightness

of being; like you’re so relieved to be happy you kind of cry. Do you ever notice how you cry when you’re angry, frustrated, scared or happy? I rarely cry when I’m
sad. I don’t know where that misconception came from. Sadness isn’t hot tears. It’s cold. Numb. Hard.

He’s out; checking things are OK with his spirits. See, I should totally be creeped out.
When he’s gone I lose my battle with my doubts. I’m doubting. Would Caroline really want me give up my life for hers?
She would be so mad if I did…
“Hey, what are you doing?” Brennus strolled into the bedroom, bringing the scent of fresh air and grass with him.
Avery slammed the diary shut. Having mentioned that she was having journal withdrawals, Brennus had promptly produced one for her.
“Writing,” she replied softly, tucking the journal behind her back.
He smirked, throwing her a look. “I’m not going to sneak a peek at your diary like some pre-pubescent girl.”
She snorted, not really picturing Brennus doing anything so undignified. “I guess you wouldn’t.”
Smiling at her, he shrugged off his coat, dropping it lazily onto an armchair. She knew by the change in his body language that his attention was entirely focused on her. As

he strolled towards her languidly, Avery felt her breath hitch at his approach. The bed shifted under his weight as he braced his hands on either side of her and leaned down for
a kiss. She inhaled his musk, her eyes locked on his, her mouth already falling open. Her hands reached up to clutch at his chest and her heart sped at the feel of his breath
across her face. Her skin tingled. His lips brushed across hers softly, one stroke, two. Playful. Teasing. Excruciating. She tried to catch them but he kept drawing back,
laughing softly under his breath. Without thought Avery took his face in her hands, cupping his jaw tight. He stiffened, his eyes flaring a little with apprehension. She hadn’t
touched his face before. Gulping back anxiety, Avery struggled to breathe normally. She swore she could hear his heart fluttering like a mouse caught between the paws of the
neighbour’s cat. Her own picked up pace in response. Tentatively, afraid he’d be angry but needing to do it nonetheless, she trailed the fingertips of her right hand up across his
cheek, running over the haggard lines of his scar. He flinched but her hold brook no argument. She followed the lines of his scar over his cheek, nose, his forehead. Brennus’
eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into her touch. Pain flared up her arm shooting for the direction of her heart. She hated the man who had done this to him. But more than
that, Avery hated the fact she’d recoiled from him because of it.

This man was more beautiful than she’d ever be.
Trembling now, Avery leaned up and pressed the sweetest kiss to his cheek, to his scar. Brennus shuddered against her, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing

her close. Not finished, she peppered fairy kisses to his wound, trailing them down in a magical course of acceptance to his happy ending mouth, where she pressed a kiss of
such… longing. He groaned harshly and kissed her back, hard. Avery clung on as he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching hers, needy and wanting; his arms binding her
tight, his hands gripping her skin so hard he almost left bruises. A heat, this unimaginable flush, charged through her and she felt that tug in her lower body that Sarah had told
her all about. The tug, the heat she had never felt with any guy; the tug and heat she’d been jealous of as Sarah expounded upon her night of passion with some French guy
during the school’s business trip to Paris. But now she was feeling it; that fever, that need. She almost smiled in exhilaration against Brennus’ mouth. Finally, she was feeling all
grown up.

Any further thoughts were obliterated when Brennus reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Even his fingers brushing against her bare skin sent these sparks shooting out of her

nerve endings. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. Feeling drugged, Avery let him pull the shirt over her head, barely allowing a second of separation before she was
pressed back up against him, his hands running up and down her back frenziedly, as if trying to find a way inside.

“Sir!”
They broke apart abruptly, Avery’s eyes flying to the door. Thankfully Ames was nowhere to be seen.
“What is it, Ames?” Brennus snapped into the room at large.
“I apologise, sir, but you have a visitor.”
They tried to catch their breath. Brennus groaned and leaned his forehead on Avery’s shoulder, his hand making circles on her naked back.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He sighed and Avery realised he was using that telecom system thing. Ames was probably downstairs somewhere.
Brennus groaned again and Avery smiled softly at his frustration… her frustration too. She sighed and brushed her hand through his hair. “You better go.”
He nodded and lifted his head to gaze at her.
Her breath caught.
No one had ever looked at her like that before. His eyes spoke words his mouth could never so poignantly convey. Selfishly, she was glad he felt that way about her.
She wet her lips self-consciously and Brennus took it as an invitation, brushing a kiss across her mouth before jerking away from her.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he promised and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to restore his flustered state to presentable. He didn’t look at her. Shaking her head,

Avery searched for her shirt and found it discarded on the floor. Quickly, she pulled it on and he threw her a grateful look.

“Who will it be?”
“The visitor?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. I’m about to find out.”

***

Avery didn’t know why she did it. It was his visitor. His home. His private business. But she gave him five minutes and then tip-toed out after him, praying Ames didn’t bust
her. At the sound of Brennus’ voice her ears lifted, and she mocked herself for acting like a puppy hearing her owner’s keys turning in the lock. Making sure Ames was
nowhere to be seen Avery followed the voices to the sitting room. One of the double doors was cracked open a little and she peered through the gap, her breathing stuttering
to a halt at the sight of Brennus standing opposite a tall woman. She was so tall she came to Brennus’ chin. Her light brown hair was pulled back off her face in a knotted
messy bun that somehow managed to be stylish. She wore tight black jeans that accentuated the slender long lines of her legs. A leather jacket and matching boots completed
the ensemble. Like Brennus, she wore all black. Avery could just make out her profile but what she saw of this woman amounted to gorgeous.

“This is a difficult time.” Brennus moved around her and leaned against the fireplace. The woman turned and Avery felt a twinge of jealousy. She was stunning. Not cute. But

beautiful. Fine featured. Dark, exotic eyes.

The woman grimaced at Brennus. “I know. That’s why I’m here. Rumour has it you’ve bagged a human.”
Avery’s heart sped up. That would be her.
Brennus growled angrily, “That’s none of your business.”
The woman’s dark eyes flashed just as angrily. “None of my business?! You’re contemplating cashing in this job, this life, this connection to me, for some silly little girl and

it’s none of my business?! When are you going to forgive me, Brennus? When are you going to admit that you still love me? When are you going to forgive me and believe me
when I tell you I truly love you?” her voice softened to a plea.

Oh my god, Avery felt sick.
“Anonna…” he breathed, his eyes closing as if in pain.
Anonna. The exotic Ankou was Anonna. Brennus had left out the part where Anonna had finally come to her senses and admitted her true love for him. Watching Anonna’s

agony, Avery felt a vicious jealousy take hold. It burrowed its way under her skin, heating her blood, cutting off rationality, narrowing down her perspective. She hated this
woman.

She didn’t know her.
But she hated her.
“Brennus please don’t do this,” Anonna whispered.
Avery waited, the blood pounding so hard in her ears she was afraid she wouldn’t hear his response.
“I don’t love you anymore, Anonna. I haven’t for a long time.” His eyes were sad, regretful. “I’m sorry. But I must ask you to leave.”
Anonna’s face hardened, like those Roman busts Avery had seen pictures of in history books, her eyes almost as opaque. “You choose her, Brennus… and you will regret

it.”

“I’ve already chosen her.”
Anonna nodded, a brittle movement, as if unsure a more forceful gesture wouldn’t just cause her to shatter.
She vanished.
Avery sucked in her breath.
He’d chosen her.
And Avery had somehow chosen him.

Unlike Brennus, Avery had no intention of admitting it. It would cost too much.

The Bath that You Poured Me

has Drained, and it’s Gone

She didn’t tell him she knew about Anonna’s visit. And he didn’t tell her about Anonna’s visit. She didn’t pull away from him outwardly. Instead she embraced being with him.
Living life to the full, they called it. He never asked it of her, but on the final night… she gave to him. Everything. She let him kiss her, touch her. She kissed him back, touched
him back. She let him undress her and trail shivers across her over-heated skin. Now she understood what Sarah meant when she’d said she’d been to the stars and back. As
Brennus showed her what sex could really be like, he didn’t stop with the stars. He hit the moon and the Milky Way and lit never-ending fireworks the entire way there and
back. But it wasn’t just amazing sex, like Sarah had described. It was that allusive thing Aunt Caroline told her about. Connection.

Sex. Making love. She got the difference now.
So she wasn’t surprised at Brennus’ reaction the next morning as she slid out of his embrace and began getting dressed. He felt the chill in the air; the chill she had created.

He’d asked her what was wrong and Avery had seen the panic in his eyes. Then she’d told him she was ready to go home.

He wrenched back the bed covers and pulled on his dark slacks. He turned to face her, all bristling angry male, the way he had been that first night. “What the hell are you

talking about?” He seemed to struggle to keep his voice calm.

Avery gulped, willing her heart to stop racing. She trembled as she reached for a jacket she had left lying on the sofa. Then she realised it wasn’t her jacket. Brennus had

bought it for her. She dropped it back down and drew on all her courage to face him. His lips were white with anticipatory rage but his eyes pleaded with her. “I’m sorry,
Brennus. I like you.” She swallowed the lukewarm sentiment that didn’t even amount to a percent of what she felt for him. “I do. But Caroline wouldn’t want me to trade my
mortality for her.”

“Caroline!” he shouted now, his scar stretched as tight as his emotions. “What the hell do you want, Avery?! Not Caroline. You!”
She shook her head. “I want my life back.”

The room seemed to darken, and a definite icy cold descended across the room as Brennus struggled for composure. “This is what you really want? To go back to her?”
She nodded, afraid to speak.
Brennus made a choking sound and covered his face with his hands.
Oh god, Avery felt like crying out to him, her hand reaching out of its own accord.
He drew his hands down his face. It was stark, and cold. Seemingly dead. Except for the bright shine of tears in his eyes. “I’ll kill her, Avery.”
A bucket of cold water. Like an unexpected slap to the face. She felt that jerk of shock slam her organs against her bones. “You bastard,” she whispered hoarsely.
He shrugged numbly. “I’d do anything to keep you.”
“What about our deal? You said if I stayed the week you wouldn’t take her before her time.”
“I lied.” His eyes were like ice chips. “Your choice. Me or her?”
She glared at him. “I choose her.”
The room spun around on her and she reached out, thinking it a fainting spell. Sick rushed up her throat in an acidic soup and she collapsed to the ground, vomiting up on

the hardwood floor.

Wait. Hardwood? The bedroom was carpeted.
Avery raised her head and gazed around the room. It was her and Aunt Caroline’s sitting room. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.
He’d sent her back. Without saying goodbye.

***

True to Brennus’ word, Aunt Caroline had no memory of Avery being gone. Neither had Sarah or Jemima. Life quickly returned to normal. Well, as normal as it could be. Her
aunt didn’t rapidly deteriorate, although Avery waited on tenterhooks for Brennus to make good on his promise. Every day he didn’t, she began to hate him a little less.

When a month passed and still no change, it crossed Avery’s mind that he may have lied. Was it just a desperate ruse to try and get her to stay? She wasn’t sure. There

was a ruthless aspect to Brennus when it came to her. She had seen it that first night. She wasn’t sure that was a lie.

She hated that he crossed her mind every day. That when she lay in bed at night, she could still feel the press of his body against hers. She grieved for him. But Caroline

would never have chosen someone like him for Avery. And Caroline always made the right choice.

Sometimes it was hard to remind herself of that fact. Like that first night out at 4.0. Avery had searched the crowds for him, praying she would see his severe face in the

crowds. But he didn’t show.

Caroline asked her constantly if she was alright and that just tripled her guilt because the last thing she wanted was Caroline worrying about her on top of everything else.

Then Caroline had brought up funeral plans and Avery had freaked out, shouting incoherent nonsense before slamming out of the apartment. When she returned later that day
neither of them said a word and Avery seethed on her own shame.

As the weeks moved into the second month, she felt like she was being haunted. She would be standing in the DVD rental store and she’d catch a whiff of this beautiful

spicy, earthy smell that reminded her of Brennus. She’d look around to see if he was there but there no one. And then she’d sniff the air again and the scent was gone. It
became an obsession; every journal page filled with descriptions of him. Finally, she started doing some research, looking up whatever she could on the Ankou. There was an
astonishing amount of information on the web and in the library, and she locked it all inside her hoping…

Hoping what? That it would somehow make her stop loving him?
She admitted it only that once and then pretended it had never happened.

Caroline had taken to sleeping longer in the mornings. The rain lashing against the windows outside were kind of a lullaby and Avery drew her aunt’s door closed, wishing

she could keep her there forever. The apartment was cold, damp. Avery made herself some herbal tea and, feeling maudlin - but what was new, right - she pulled out Aunt
Caroline’s photo albums and snuggled onto the sofa with a blanket. She’d chosen the album of all the photos when Caroline was younger. There were ones at college; the kind
of photos that made you long for your own college experience. Somehow it was never quite as great as the photos made it seem. Caroline had had so many friends though.
There were photos of her with a couple different guys over the years; all cute, sporty types. Avery’s hands trembled over the pictures of her aunt rock climbing. Biking.
Rollerblading. Playing baseball. Ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. She was like an advertising campaign for LIFE.

Her chest tightened and Avery struggled to draw breath. She clutched at her t-shirt and gulped at the air, tears streaming down her face.
“Baby,” her Aunt Caroline’s soft voice called from behind her, but she couldn’t turn around. She felt her aunt’s warm body ease next to hers, her safe arms coming around

her. Like a panicked dog abandoned at the side of the road, Avery pleaded with her aunt with her eyes. Caroline brushed her hair off her face. “Breathe, baby, breathe.”

She sucked in a deep lungful of air and the inhalation caught on a sob. She allowed herself to be pulled into her aunt’s chest and she soaked her with tears; an entire

season’s worth of rainfall that had been weighing down the clouds for quite some time.

It’s Not Murder

it’s an Act of Faith

There was relief in admitting her grief to her Aunt Caroline. It was what Caroline needed from her, so she gave it. Somehow Avery managed to get through the funeral talks
and financial discussions, holding herself together by the tips of her tremulous fingers.

It was weird… but she felt closer to her aunt than ever.
That was why, on club night, as Caroline watched Avery get ready from her perch on the sofa, her blankets all around her, the latest Charlaine Harris book in her lap,

Avery unconsciously let her obsession take to the fore.

“Aunt Caroline?” She asked hesitantly as she pulled on some bangles.

“Mmmhmm?”
“Did you ever date a bad boy?”
Caroline raised her eyebrows questioningly and smiled. “Should I know something I don’t?”
Avery blushed and shook her head. “No, just hypothetical.”
“Yeah right. How bad are we talkin’?” Her New York accent thickened with the query.
“Well what do you consider a bad boy?”
Caroline gave her a look but conceded the question. “I dunno. A bum. A cheat. A drug addict. An alcoholic. Abusive. Lazy. A commitment-phobe who pretends to be

otherwise. A thief. A criminal… should I go on?”

Those were all the obvious, weren’t they? Avery stiffened, turning her back on Caroline as she pulled on her stilettoes. “What about… different?”
“Different? Different how?”
She shrugged, turning back around but not really looking at her. She fiddled with her earring nervously. “Maybe a little older?”
“How much older?” Caroline snapped up, showing a little of her old energy.
Avery grinned. “Not that much older. Early twenties.”
Caroline frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“What if he had money? A lot of it.”
“Depends how he came by it.”
“Commercialism.”
Caroline grunted, “Honest or not?”
“Honest.”
“Well it’s not the best but it’s not a crime. Unless you like him for his money, then we have a problem.”
“No, no. No. But what if your friends thought he was kind of creepy because… he might not be the best looking guy in the world. What if he seemed kind of harsh and cold

but he wasn’t always like that?”

Her aunt was watching her with narrowed, perceptive eyes. “What is he like?”
“Kind. Warm. Funny. Loving. Imperfect. Arrogant. Superior. But right…”
Caroline smiled slowly, her eyes suspiciously bright and shiny. “Then I’d tell my friends to go to hell.”
Avery felt the breath whoosh out of her body. “You would?”
“Avery… stop asking me what I would do.” Caroline shook her head. “I’m not going to be here, sweetheart, and you need to make your own mind up about things.

Important things. And you need to do that without fearing something bad is going happen because it was your decision.”

Her aunt might as well have shot a steel pipe into her backbone. Avery stiffened and instead of crying like she thought she would, she felt heat. The heat of relief.
“I’d tell them to go to hell too,” she whispered.
Her aunt’s answer was a triumphant grin.

***

Now that her mind was made up, Avery couldn’t wait to get to the club. Surely Brennus would turn up this time. He had to be missing her as much as she missed him. And it
wasn’t just him she missed. It was his weird, abstract world. It was fragmented. She was fragmented. But somehow it fit. She liked who she was in that world.

Sarah and Jemima kept tugging on her and asking her what was bugging her as she drew on to her tiptoes and tried to see over the crowds. She wanted to tell them but the

truth was she knew they would never understand. Maybe they were still too young. Maybe life needed to happen to them more. Shrugging them off with a soft mysterious
smile, Avery pushed through the dancing throng on the floor and swept the room for Brennus. Surely she would feel him if he was here. God, she wished he’d come. She
wanted to dance with him so badly.

“Looking for someone?”
Avery whirled around, her heart stuck in her throat as she gazed up into the fiercely beautiful face of Anonna. “What are you doing here?”
Anonna sneered at her. “Correcting a mistake.”
Avery flinched as the woman reached for her, her slender fingers wrapping around Avery’s arm in a painful grip. The room blurred and spun around them and Avery

stumbled out of the sensation and into a dank basement. Her heart was thumping so hard she felt sick.

“What do you want?” She backed away from Anonna. But the Ankou stalked her right into the cold brick of the basement wall. Her chilled hand slid up Avery’s throat,

circling her neck gently but menacingly.

“I was going to let you live, you little fool,” she whispered, her eyes bright with anguish. “But you had to change your mind. You had to come to your senses…”
“How did you…?”
“I’ve been watching. Just in case. I knew you had to fall in love with him.” Her eyes brimmed with emotion, her lashes growing damp with tears. “He’s exquisite darkness.”
Remembering what Brennus had told her about this woman, Avery glared at her. “You didn’t used to think so.”
Anonna’s face sharpened. “I was a stupid, shallow mortal. I know what love is now. I know that you and Brennus can never be, because he and I are linked.”
Avery shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
“You think a silly little girl like you can have what we have? You can never understand Brennus like I do.” She wrenched back from Avery and Avery watched in confusion

as Anonna turned, giving her, her back. And then she lifted the hem of her black shirt and drew it up so Avery could see her damaged flesh. Deep lashes, hundreds of them
crossing over one another, marred Anonna’s pale flesh. The lines of those lashes reached down past the waistband of her trousers and Avery could only guess that her body
was covered with them.

“How?”
Anonna spun back around, her eyes black with hatred. “I gave myself to a man who brutalised me. Despite what I had done to him, Brennus came for me and saved me

from that existence. That’s the kind of man he is.”

Avery crumpled inwards. “You really do love him.”
“Yes.” For a moment there only silence, and then a tear slid down Anonna’s cheek. “When I first saw him, I was thrilled that’d he be mine. Other girls, my so-called friends,

had married old, fat, rich Roman men and still Papa had not arranged a marriage for me. Instead he took me away from Rome when I was fifteen. I despised Londinium; but
soon I began to enjoy the superiority of my high birth among many of inferior origin. At first when Papa told me I’d be marrying a non-citizen I was furious, the other girls
would have sneered at me behind my back, so happy to see my downfall. They’d always been jealous of me. But my husband was young and handsome and rich. I thought I
loved him just because… we were beautiful together.” She shook her head, a bitter smile curving her lips. “And then he was attacked in the street by that mad man and I
wasn’t even frightened that he could have been killed. All I cared about was the hideous scar that took my beautiful husband and replaced him with someone people didn’t
want to look at. I hated the thought of him touching me. And Brennus… oh my sweet Brennus, he was so patient. And all the while he pandered to my selfishness I was
sleeping with his father.”

“Why?” Avery asked hoarsely, trying to keep the anger out of her question.
Anonna shrugged pitifully. “Because… he looked very much like Brennus. The Brennus I wanted. Not the Brennus that was. And then I fell ill and I couldn’t remember

what happened, only that I had awakened to find Brennus was gone. I was angry. Angry and relieved. I was a hateful person, Avery. Hateful. I made many more foolish
mistakes after that. And one of them brought me to where I am now. By the time Brennus came to me and explained what he had done for me, who he was, I was so damaged
by what had happened to me I would have gone anywhere to be away from that vile man I had given myself over to. So I became Ankou. Brennus didn’t just leave me to
stumble through life as an Ankou. At first he visited with me, helped me come to terms with what had happened to me. With it came perfect clarity, and I could see past that
scar and into the soul of a man who had given everything for me. It took dying for me to finally love Brennus the way he deserved.”

Avery could feel the waves of pain rushing and undulating out of Anonna and hated the pang of anguish she felt for her.
This woman wanted to take Brennus from her.
“I am sorry, Anonna,” she whispered, “But I think for Brennus, it’s a little too late.”
A strained silence fell between them until Anonna made an odd choking sound. “This is terrible.”
“What?”
She shook her head, her light brown hair seeming black in the darkness of the basement. “You’re a sweet girl, Avery. It makes this so much worse.”
With the same intuition that had told her what Brennus was, Avery understood why Anonna had brought her to this basement; that there would be no talking her down.
The fear came back in air-crushing floods. “Anonna…”
Anonna shook her head. “He loves you. He’d choose you. I have to… I’m sorry.”
Avery had always imagined that if she found herself facing death she would be dignified. Stoic. Like Aunt Caroline. Chin up, eyes blazing with strength and resignation.

That’s not the way it was. Avery was so scared her legs buckled and her chin trembled. Knowing you were going to die was terrifying. The helplessness was unbearable. She
wasn’t ready. There was no peace. They lied. There was no peace.

“P-please,” she whimpered, shaking her head as tears streamed out of her eyes. “Please d-don’t,” her teeth chattered.
Anonna shook her head and looked away. “I love him.” The knife slid out of the sleeve of her shirt in a practiced motion.
“Oh god,” Avery beseeched, choking on hard sobs. Her legs gave way and she slid down the wall to the floor, watching as Anonna approached her slowly, the knife

gripped hard in her hand.

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to be with Brennus and Caroline was supposed to be saved and they were supposed to

have the happily ever after thing that she knew just couldn’t be true but she had so hoped, oh god why had she hoped, she couldn’t have done anything worse than hoped. All
that time wasted, dreaming about him, wanting him, all those books and research on the web about the Ankou… all that-

“Oh God.” Avery looked up sharply and Anonna stilled at the look in her eye.
“What?” Anonna asked hoarsely.
Avery shook her head as the answer came to her. She prayed the thick tome from the library had it right. “I’m so sorry.”
“What-”
“THANATOS, I SEEK AID AGAINST A FALLEN ONE!” She screamed, her face rushing with blood.
“NO!” Anonna shrieked.
A scuttling sound, like a million cockroaches appearing from the dark, enveloped the room. Avery tried to shrink back against the wall as Anonna swung around, her eyes

stark with terror. She brandished the knife. “No,” she whispered as the scuttling grew louder.

And then Avery saw it and her stomach clenched in absolute horror. Dark, misshapen shadows crawled along the walls and floor, all heading for Anonna. They swam

towards her, in bobs and fits, the scuttling so loud it was a like a shriek. Anonna turned back to her, staring at her as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. And then she
closed her eyes as the shadows swam up her legs, torso, chest, mouth… covering her in its shrill black ink until she was drowned in the entities grasp. With one last wail the
shadows fell to the floor, disappearing and melting into nothing.

Avery stared at the empty spot before her, her heart slowing.
It worked.
Thank God.
During her research she had come across this passage about Ankou that broke the rules and stalked humans. It sort of majorly pissed of Thanatos who was kind of their

leader, and if you called to him, he’d come and take care of the problem. Avery was so glad the scholar who’d written about it, knew what the hell they were talking about.

She blinked and tried to stand to her feet, but as she did the room spun and she fell forward, collapsing onto familiar wooden floors. She groaned and flipped over, staring

up at the ceiling of her sitting room. Craning her neck around, she saw Caroline asleep on the sofa.

She closed her eyes in relief and sagged against the cold floor. “Where are you, Brennus?”
“I’m right here.”
She snapped her eyes open. He towered above her. He was the most beautiful sight. His scent enveloped her. She felt stupid tears prickle in her eyes and her lip trembled.

“You came.”

Brennus glanced over at her sleeping aunt as though checking he hadn’t disturbed her, and then he knelt down beside Avery, hesitantly reaching out to help her sit up. “Are

you OK?” He asked softly and she nodded, disappointed as he let go of her quickly.

“I’m fine.”
“I heard.” His face was dark. Dangerous. She knew that look. He was seething. “Anonna has been punished. She’s no longer an Ankou. She’s been sent into her afterlife.”

He shook his head, regret in his dark eyes. “I am so sorry, Avery.”

“No.” She hurried to assure him. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
He waved away her reassurances and stood back up. “I just came to see if you were alright. I don’t know where you learned to do what you did, but I’m glad. I’m glad

you weren’t hurt because of me. Goodbye Ave-”

“No!” She yelled and then bit her lip, glancing back to make sure she hadn’t woken Aunt Caroline.
Brennus stilled, startled by her exclamation. He frowned down at her. “What?”
Feeling a little unsettled sitting at his feet, Avery struggled to her feet and gazed up into his face imploringly. “Brennus… I- I miss you.”
His jaw clenched. “I miss you, too.”
“No.” She reached for him, clutching a hold of his arm, her fingers digging into his skin in desperation. “I mean, I miss you. Tonight I went to the club looking for you.”
His eyes widened and he clasped her hand tight. “Avery?”
She smiled softly, reassuringly, and then lifted a hand to silence him. In a hush, she went over to Caroline and stared down at her aunt’s peaceful, yet sickly face. Slowly, so

not to wake her, she leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her aunt’s forehead.

Just as silently she returned to Brennus’ side to take his hand. “I want to make the deal.”
The colours of the room faded around her until she vanished from the Brooklyn apartment. The only evidence of her existence was her tiny teardrop that had dripped onto

her aunt’s cheek.

It slid down off Caroline’s chin and splashed onto her favourite sweater.
Indelible. Eternal.

You Can Feel the Earth Shake

When They Start to Dance

They closed the deal. In more ways than one.

Avery stretched like a cat. A naked, satisfied cat. She smiled with her eyes closed and let Brennus pull her back into his body.
“I don’t ever want to get up,” she said softly, stroking a finger along his cheek.
He took hold of it and kissed it. “I know. But we have to.”
She grinned at the colour of his pallor. He was no longer pale. He was no longer Ankou. And she was no longer mortal. “Why? We have all of eternity to get up.”
The sheepish look he gave her made her draw back from him a little.
“What did you do?”
He sighed, rubbing his cheek with his fist. It was a gesture of his when he wasn’t looking forward to telling her something. “I may have promised the house to the new

Ankou.”

She felt a twinge of disappointment. She loved the house. “But this is your home.”
“If I can use the old cliché, my home is wherever you are.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and she melted into him happily.

***

As they sat on the fire escape, peering inside her old apartment, Avery was glad that some of Brennus’ powers remained intact. Like not being seen by her Aunt Caroline as
they watched her move around the apartment. She was wearing cycling shorts and a sports top, her sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floors as she rushed around
getting her stuff together. There was no sign of the cancer. She looked younger than ever. Avery’s eyes prickled with happy tears. Brennus had given her such a wonderful gift.
As Caroline passed the telephone cabinet in the corner, Avery spotted a picture of her parents instead of the photo of her at her prom.

Brennus had kept his promise. She hadn’t existed. No one remembered her to miss her. Avery thought she’d feel sadder about that. But the truth was… maybe she hadn’t

ever existed.

“Brennus?” She asked softly as Caroline left the apartment. “Would you have taken Caroline away from me before her time, like you threatened?”
He stared deep into her eyes. “I wouldn’t have had to. She wasn’t going to last long.”
Avery took a deep breath. “But if she hadn’t been…?”
“Truth?”
“Truth.”
That ruthless glint she had seen in his eyes that first night was back. “I would have done anything to have you.”
She nodded slowly. He was being honest. There was a darkness in him. He had lived too long. Seen too much. And in the end he hadn’t taken Caroline before her time.

Plus…Avery had chosen him, hadn’t she, despite all that. She shrugged to herself. There was darkness in everybody. She loved Brennus. Not the man she thought he should

be. Maybe that made her dark and twisty like him, but at least it made her something.

“You glad you made a deal with the devil?” Brennus murmured in her ear, his arm warm and strong encircled around her back.
Avery smiled into his eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “With this devil, yes.”
When he grinned back at her, she saw herself in his eyes. That person in there, shining back at her… that person existed. He and Caroline had made sure of it in the end.

She brushed her fingers across his jaw in affectionate thanks.

“So what now?” He asked softly, glancing around them pointedly.
“Now?” Avery grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close. “Now… dance me home.”

The End

Read on for a Sneak Preview of Samantha Young’s upcoming Fantasy Romance ‘Slumber’...

Slumber (The Tale of a Sleeping Beauty)

…Sleeping Beauty may be the damsel in distress, but her White Knight? Why her rather un-knightish best friend of course. And the White Knight’s White Knight?
Well… none other than her reluctant mortal enemy…

When Haydyn falls victim to the mysterious Sleeping Disease, the world of Phaedra is thrown into Chaos.

Rogan, Haydyn’s best friend and handmaiden, is the only one who can save her. Together, with the Royal Guard and their young Captain, Wolfe Stovia, Rogan must set off
across the provinces to find the Somna Plant that will wake Haydyn from her dying sleep.

Beset on all sides by the chaos, Rogan tumbles into a dark world of kidnapping, prejudice, betrayal and love… a journey that will change her forever, and a journey that will
change their world forever, if she does not retrieve the cure.

YA Fantasy for Older Readers…

Prologue

When I was a child the world smelled of summer.

The heady perfume of the dancing wildflowers would hug my senses every time the breeze rattled their song and took them with it on its journey to soothe my cheeks from

the heat of the afternoon sun. The relieving scent of the damp soil when the sun had pushed the sky too far and it wept rain for days on end, before wearily turning the world
back over to its golden companion. The refreshing aroma of lemons in the thick air of the house, mixing with my mother’s baking as she prepared our afternoon repast of bitter
lemonade and thick warm bread, slathered with creamy butter made cold from the sheltering shade of the larder.

And my father’s pipe.
The sweet odour of tobacco tickling my nose as he held me close and whispered the stories of our Salvation and the mighty Kral who lived in the grandest palace in all the

land with his beautiful daughter the Princezna... how kind and gentle they were... the reason my private world was one of innocence and endless summer.

My memories of that life never leave me. The sounds of my brother’s laughter carrying back to my young, happy ears as we ran through the fields of gold and purple, racing

over the farm to the brook that ran behind our land. The gentle trickle of that stream drew us each day; my brother for the rope swing he had looped around the strongest tree,
the one with the trunk that seemed to bend towards the water as if thirsty for a taste of its pure relief. For me I was drawn to its coolness on my skin, its moisture in my dry
mouth, its familiar smell... like damp metal and wet grass.

Sometimes I hear my mother calling our names in my dreams.
There was no warning to summer’s end. Its end began like any other day. I lay with my brother beneath the shadow of an oak by the brook’s edge, my young voice barely

heard above the babbling water as I recounted the story my father had told me over and over, to my little brother. I could hear my father’s rich voice in my head, remember
every word and as I recited it, I remembered to speak in the hushed, awed tones my father used to make a story sound as magical as this one really was.

“Aeons and aeons ago, our people were the most blessed of mankind. Powerful and beautiful we could tap into Mother Nature and draw from her powers; magical beings,

spiritual and wondrous to behold. But mankind grew envious of us, and wise as we were, we knew mankind, with so many wars already brewing between its people, could not
withstand a war with us. The wisest of us persuaded us it was time to fade from mankind’s earth, to fade as one into a world of our own. We drew from the earth and imagined
a paradise. Mankind began to melt around us as we fell deep, deep into the fade. When our people awakened it was to find themselves here, in the Phade, in a new born land,
a sky, a moon, a sun, trees, plants, water, and all animals familiar to them awaiting them, awaiting them to begin the new world in peace. Fearful of our emotions betraying us as
they had to mankind, it was decided that the Dyzvati, a clan of magical evokers, with the ability to lull the people and the land with peace, would reign as the royal family. The
Dyzvati named our land Phaedra, splitting it into our six provinces, giving a province to the clans with the most powerful magic. Sabithia, in the south, was taken by the Dyzvati,
and they built a beautiful palace in the capital city of Silvera, where the shores of the Silver Sea edge its coast with its vibrant silver surf. To the Clan Glava, the largest and most
powerful of the mage with their many psychic abilities, whether it be reading the past, present or future, or shifting objects and summoning elements with their mind, was given
Javinia to the east of Sabithia and also Daeronia in the northeast.” I turned my head to smile at my brother who gazed at me enraptured by the story. “And our own slice of
haven, Vasterya, was given to the Clan Azyl; seekers, mage with the ability to seek whatever their hearts desired. Eventually, the Azyl became servants of the Dyzvati, using
their abilities to seek whatever the royal family wished, helping the upkeep of the peace in Phaedra. Many centuries onwards and the Azyl’s magic had evolved with their
position; no longer able to seek that which they wished for themselves, only what others wanted sought.”

“That’s a little unfair.” My brother frowned and I nodded in agreement. I thought so.
“Anyway, the province of Daeronia, beyond the northern borders of Sabithia, was given to Clan Dravilec, the healers, to keep them close to the Dyzvati.” I thought on how

much a fairytale this sounded now, a many millennia on from the beginning of Phaedra. “Now there are so few mage left. Papa says there are none left in Vasterya at all. And
now only the Kral and Princezna Haydyn remain of the Dyzvati.”

My brother hadn’t been listening to me anymore or my woe over our people’s sad evolution. “What about Alvernia?” My brother asked instead in a hushed voice.
I shivered at the thought of Alvernia; the stories I’d heard of the rough, uncivilised northern mountain people, terrifying tales of their macabre misdeeds and unsettling

lifestyle, all because the power of the Dyzvati began to wane towards the middle of Alvernia.

“It was given to those of middling magical abilities. A few of the Glava went with them, as there were so many, and set themselves up in the southern most point in the city of

Arrana.”

“Where the Vojvoda lives?”
“Where the Vojvoda lives.”
“I wish I was a vojvoda. Or a Markiza. Or a Vikomt!” He cried excitedly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I’d have horses. Lots of horses. And gold! We could

play treasure hunt!”

I laughed and pushed him playfully. “All those titles and you didn’t choose the best.”
“What?!” He pouted.
I stood up, bracing my small hands against my youthful hips, legs astride, chin defiant. “Why… Kral of course!”
“Yeah!” He jumped to his feet now, mimicking my stance. “I am Kral of Vasterya!”
“And me?”
“My servant, of course.”
I growled in outrage. “Servant indeed.”
I still remember the sounds of his beautiful laughter as I chased him for his teasing.
At the grumbling of our bellies, my younger brother and I reluctantly ceased playing and began walking back towards the house. I remember holding his hand as we wove

our way through the fields. I remember the gust of wind that shook the gold and purple and blew my hair back from my face, sending shivers of warning down my spine. My
feet moved faster then, tugging on my brother each time my heart beat a little quicker.

I remember the expression on my father’s face when we appeared out of the fields. Pale and slack, his eyes bleak as they drank me in. My mother clung to his arm, as tiny

as my favourite doll, her eyes just as glassy. At the sound of a horse’s nicker I turned to see who stood outside our home. Four men. All dressed in livery that matched those of

their horses. My eyes were drawn to the emerald and silver heraldic badges with the silver dove crest in the middle... our symbol of peace.

They were from the palace.
I do not know why, but I was scared. I remember trembling so hard I thought I must be shaking the very ground beneath my feet. Whatever reasons unknown my instincts

had me pulling my brother behind my back, out from the view of the men looming ominously over our parents.

Then one of them descended from his beast and I realised they weren’t all dressed in livery. He alone came towards me like a serpent slithering on the ground, his purple

cloak hissing in the breeze. His eyes were the deepest black and probing, so fixated on me I shivered in revulsion as if he had actually touched me.

“This is the one.”
“You’re sure?” The soldier who towered above my parents asked gruffly.
The serpent smiled at me, ready to strike his killing blow. “She is the one.”
“No!” My father bellowed as my mother whimpered at his side. “Run, Rogan! Run!”
But I was frozen in place by their panic. An ice sculpture who watched two soldiers hold my father as he struggled in their arms and a third pull a dagger from his belt and

plunge it into his heart. He twitched and stiffened in their hold, a horrifying gurgling noise making its way up through his chest to spurt a thick, bloody fluid out of his mouth and
down his chin. My mother’s screams played the soundtrack to this memory before the dagger-wielding soldier strolled towards her crumpled figure, his black gloved fingers
stroking comfortingly over her hair. They slid like leeches down to her throat and back up to her cheeks. And then he twisted her head between his hands with a jerk that sent
an echoing crack around my world.

That’s when I felt the tug on my hand and remembered my brother. With a thousand screams stuck in my throat I whirled with him and began to run, dragging him with me

into the cover of the fields, my father’s last shouts reverberating in my ears. I drowned out the sounds of my shallow, panicked breaths, the hiccupping cries of my brother as I
practically hauled him with me, and the hollering and thundering behind us that made me race harder.
When the thundering eased, I knew I had lost them in the fields. We were small and knew the land as well as we knew each tiny scar and line upon our palms. I headed east,
picking up my brother when he tripped, shushing him when I was no longer sure we were alone. At last we reached the cave my father had punished us for hiding in only a year
before. Bears, he had warned. But now I feared the soldiers from the palace more than the bears; the soldiers who wanted me, why I did not know. It must have been
important. They had slaughtered my parents to have me. Would they murder me too? My brother? At the thought I remember burrowing him against me in the dank cave, felt
his tears soak my dress.

“I’m sorry,” he had whispered.
I wanted to tell him he need not apologise for crying, for grieving, but I feared if I spoke all my screams would burst forth with terrifying consequences.
“I didn’t mean to.”
At that, I pressed him back until a shaft of light filtered over his face. He looked so lost my young heart broke over and over again. He clutched his trousers turning away

from me and it was then the smell hit my nostrils. I began to cry. I did not want him to be ashamed of his fear. He was so little.

“It’s okay,” I whispered and made to reach for him, but his shirt slid through my hands as he was whipped out of sight. I must have yelled - I don’t know - but I stumbled

blindly after him back into a day that had suddenly turned grey. A day that had once blazed in a beautiful fire of heat and life. Now it was gone. And as my gaze found my
brother, I realised even the last sparks of the embers had been snuffed out, leaving only the fire’s funeral shroud of smoke.

My brother’s small body lay at the feet of the cave, the dagger edged in blood from his neck slipping back into its place on the soldier’s belt.
The serpent stepped over my brother’s body and knelt before me.
“Say goodbye to your family, Rogan. A new one awaits you.”

Coming June 2011

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Samantha Young is the author of the Tale of Lunarmorte Trilogy. She graduated from the University of Edinburgh in 2009, where she studied ancient and medieval history.

Sam enjoys incorporating her love of history into her writing, and is currently living in her home county of Stirlingshire, Scotland, doing just that.

Visit

http://samyoungyafantasyauthor.blogspot.com

for more info on Samantha’s upcoming novels.