Beloved
BELOVED
Table of Contents
Title Page
Beloved (Dardanos: The Adrastos, #3)
Other books by
BELOVED
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 11.
Chapter 12.
Chapter 13.
Chapter 14.
Chapter 15.
Chapter 16.
Chapter 17.
Chapter 18.
Chapter 19.
Chapter 20.
Chapter 21.
Chapter 22.
Chapter 23.
Chapter 24.
Chapter 25.
Chapter 26.
Chapter 27.
Chapter 28.
Chapter 29.
Chapter 30.
Chapter 31.
Chapter 32.
Epilogue.
CALLE J.
BROOKES
LOST RIVER LIT PUBLISHING, LLC
SPRINGS VALLEY INDIANA
EST. 2011
Other books by
Calle J.
Brookes
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
DARDANOS Paranormal Romance
The Blood Hunter (formerly Live or Die)
The Blood Heir (formerly The Blood King)
The Blood Seer (formerly The Seer’s Strength)
The Blood Warrior (formerly The Warrior’s Woman)
The Blood Healer (formerly The Healer’s Heart)
The Wolf Bitten (formerly Once Wolf Bitten)
The Demon Queen (formerly Awakening the Demon’s Queen)
The Wolf Queen (formerly The Wolf’s Redemption)
The Wolf God (formerly The Wolf God & His Mate)
The Nightmare God (formerly God of Nightmares)
DARDANOS: THE LAQUAZZEANA
The Warrior Soul (formerly A Warrior’s Quest)
The Darkest Soul (formerly Out of the Darkness)
The Chosen Soul (formerly Warrior Blind)
The Reborned Soul (formerly The Witch)
The Destined Soul (formerly Balance of the Worlds)
The Healer Soul (formerly The Healer’s Soul)
DARDANOS: THE ADRASTOS
Outcast (formerly The Outcast)
Forlorn (formerly The Forlorn)
Beloved (formerly The Beloved)
Betrayed (formerly The Betrayed)
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Beginning (Prequel 1)
Waiting (Prequel 2)
Watching
Wanting
Second Chances
Hunting
Running
Redeeming
Revealing
Stalking
Ghosting
Burning
Gathering
Falling
Hiding
Seeking
FINLEY CREEK SERIES
TRILOGY ONE (TEXAS STATE POLICE)
Her Best Friend’s Keeper
Shelter from the Storm
The Price of Silence
TRILOGY TWO (FINLEY CREEK GENERAL)
If the Dark Wins
Wounds That Won’t Heal
Hope for Finley Creek (bonus novella)
As the Night Ends
MASTERSON COUNTY NOVELLA SERIES
Seeking the Sheriff
Discovering the Doctor
Ruining the Rancher
Denying the Devil
SUSPENSE/THRILLER
PAVAD: FBI CASE FILES
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001
“Knocked Out”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002
“Knocked Down”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003
“Knocked Around”
Calle has several free reads available at
www.CalleJBrookesReads.com
For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.
You will be missed.
Oct. 2015
For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.
Feb. 2016
For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always
miss him.
Oct. 2017
Calle J. Brookes is first and foremost a fiction writer. She enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.
BELOVED
Copyright © 2016 by Calle J. Brookes
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
www.callejbrookes.com
Book and Cover design by B. G. Lashbrooks
First Edition:JULY 2016
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
BELOVED
CALLE J.
BROOKES
Chapter 1.
POLITICS. Adric Adrastos despised politics and all who engaged in the act. He was a warrior first—and a politician never. That was a vocation he would never take up willingly. But as Dhar of his people, he had little choice now.
War came to the world they now occupied. It was just a matter of time before it was more than what it had already been.
That meant meetings and planning and different Houses jockeying for position. There were forty-four Dardaptoan tribes now, each one having two representatives, usually the Dhar and Dahn, the mated ruling pair. Some tribes—such as his—had unmated leaders, as well. Each tribe was made up of dominant Houses. Those Houses had a ruling pair that was tasked with providing for and governing their people. Most Houses were represented by their ruling pairs—the Equan. Each House had an equal say, regardless of their House numbers. More than a thousand Dardaptoans were in the ruling hall with him today, representing more than five hundred houses. Five hundred families. Each one had an equal say—as their Goddess had long ago decreed.
There were a few who did not like that.
His asshole of a father and maternal grandfather were some of the loudest voices this day. The original Adrik demanded everyone’s attention from where he sat. Unfortunately because of alphabetical seating, that meant the problem was immediately at Adric’s right and his older brother Aodhan’s left. The crowd of representatives were expecting him and Aodhan to contain their sire. Neither he nor his brother—nor the other twelve brothers and two sisters he had in the room—wanted to do a damned thing with their father. None of them gave a damn about the bastard who'd treated them all as offal once he realized they were not his precious heir, destined by the Goddess of their people to rule his supposedly noble house when he was ready to step down.
His father had an heir, he just refused to acknowledge her. He smiled at his youngest sister; she wasn't a Dahn or an Equa yet, but had found her way to the meeting as an assistant to his brother Marcos’s Rajni—his goddess-ordained mate—Lana, who ruled the large House of Amyenka. It always made him smile to see them next to one another. Lana was the smallest full grown female he had ever seen within their Kind, and one of only a few truly redheaded. His sister Nora also boasted dark red hair, but she kept it cut short—and died with blue and purple stripes. She stood out. His father despised her.
Adric thought the girl—she was very young at thirty—was a damned credit to her raising. His brother Rion had done a fine job with the girl child who'd been dropped off on him and abandoned years ago.
His brother Rion was in the room with his timid half Dardaptoan/half Lupoiux mate Mara.
The Adrastos name was represented more than any other House. Combined, they oversaw more than 130,000 of the original Gaian Dardaptoans.
Their votes counted for something. Whether their sire thought so or not.
Adric nodded at the moderators of this little summit. His cousin Nalik and his sister Aureliana were extremely powerful beings known as Laquazzeana, they outranked all of the gods and goddesses their Kind had worshiped for the five thousand years of their existence. Their father was a fool to challenge the both of them.
His sister nodded at him. Adric stood. He waited until the room quieted again after their father’s last outburst. Adric was not a politician—but he was a leader. He had been since the prick on his right had banished him from his House over five hundred fifty years ago.
How The Fates could turn things around.
He held up his hand. "I am Adric the Younger. I lead the Switzerland house of Adrastos. My sire–he speaks not for me or the House I lead. My House is in full support of
the work of the Laquazzeana. In fact, I do not understand how any can be against it. We have so few numbers now. More than seven million demons populate this realm. Hundreds of thousands of Lupoiux have been judged. Their numbers are as decimated as ours. The Druid and Witch kinds are twining themselves together rapidly, but if all of us do not work together we will have no hope to defeat this dark enemy. Why are the needs of but a few houses so more important than all of the others? That speaks only of self-serving ways. That will gain us no foothold in this war."
"We merely ask better accommodations for our larger House," his father said. “Closer to the Demon King’s castle.”
Adric's cousin Nalik stood and stared hard at the uncle Adric knew he hated to claim. “You are one of the ones responsible for condemning a vulnerable widow and her young to an inhabitable shack. A widow you were obligated to protect. One whose daughter is the Rajni of your very own son. Yet you wish the best accommodations for your House over any other? The lands closeST to the demon’s castle have long been taken by the Dardanos Houses who were instrumental in securing relations with this world to ensure the safety of all of our Kind. They are settled there and will not be relocating on your whim. Request denied."
Adric knew the story–the widow’s eldest daughter was Rion's mate. She'd been half starved when his brother had rescued her family. The timid little Mara sat next to his brother a few tables down; they were the ruling pair of the Australian Adrastos. This world had been a great shock for the young female—who’d been raised thinking she was human.
No one argued with Nalik. His disgust was hard to miss. Adric took a moment to study the Dardaptoans surrounding him. Royal white clothing dominated, of course. All Equan, Dhar, and Dahn were allowed to wear that color, but there were quite a few who’d chosen to wear their House colors instead.
That concerned him.
If they were to survive this upcoming war, they would need to pull together as one Kind. Not a bunch of divided Houses. And the masses would be looking to those in this hall to lead them as one.
His father and grandfather were the biggest thorns in that unity’s side.
He knew they’d be causing trouble again soon. He would be ready.
Chapter 2.
MIRANDA Taniss stared at the people waiting on the steps of the ruling hall, waiting for reports of what was going on inside. She didn’t give a flip for whatever it was—this crowd was separating her from what amounted to her den. Her home.
She didn’t need the reports, anyway. If she wanted to, all she had to do was focus her energy in the direction of the large chamber hall and she’d be able to hear every word said in there. But she didn’t care.
Her main focus was getting back to what masqueraded as her home in this realm. It was the only shelter, the only safe place, she had. If the creatures surrounding her realized she wasn’t one of them they’d probably kill her. She didn’t have any illusions of that. Vampires that called themselves Dardaptoans, werewolves known as Lupoiux, Druids, and Witches...they were all far more dangerous than she could ever be.
The worst were the demons that were native to this world. Some of them were sex demons; Miranda had had a pretty tight brush with one of them a week after she’d been dragged into this world. She’d barely escaped with her clothes that day. It wasn’t the sex that scared her—it was the way he’d threatened to consume her when he was done.
She’d escaped and relocated to the other side of the city after that. She eyed the small entrance to the shelter that she’d claimed as hers. It was on the back of the library—or what she’d thought was the library. They were forbidden from going inside it, so she hadn’t even tried. She wasn’t that stupid.
She’d slipped beneath the shortest column that separated the library from the ruling hall and discovered a small chamber. It was only about five feet in width, but eight deep. The entrance was about eight feet off the ground, which had proven a problem at first. Until she’d found small chinks in the side of the column that were perfect footholds. The entrance itself was a small hole, just wide enough for a person to get through. Not much else. It was a gap in the architecture, only about six foot tall, but it was shelter. That counted for something. And in the six months she’d been in this world, no one had found her there yet.
Miranda figured it was as safe as a homeless, family-less human could get in a world she didn’t want to be in in the first place.
Her little listening trick had been the cursed ticket that got her found and brought to this demon world of Thrun to begin with.
She’d been sitting near some other beings—mostly Lupoiux werewolves who’d been eyeing her like she was a meaty bone—hoping she’d not be caught as a vagrant. A thing of some sort had arrived and rounded the Lupoiux all up. Zapped them here.
She’d had the misfortune to be swept up along with them, as completely clueless as possible. With her psychic skills, he had not realized she was merely human.
He’d brought her here, and the homelessness had continued.
She hadn’t always been homeless, though. It had happened less than two years before she’d ended up in the demon world. She’d been on her own since she’d been five, but she’d always had a roof—usually provided by the state—until someone had come after her in her small apartment one night.
She’d barely escaped—thanks to her little psychic skill—and had been running from the whatever it was ever since.
It was because she was different; Miranda understood that. Apparently there were bounties on the heads of those that were different. Who knew, right?
Miranda had no home, no family, and no clue how to return to Boston.
She was just doing her best not to get captured by another sex demon or a werewolf. The vampires mostly left her alone. They were a bit more civilized, as far as she could tell.
She’d stolen a set of their clothing off a clothes line the first week. Human clothes had stood out far too much.
She changed up her disguise by a variety of colored scarves she’d collected over the last six months. The scarves had something to do with what family a vampire belonged to. She didn’t fully understand it, but she knew enough now to always have one or more available. They made handy disguises.
She tried not to use the same scarf two days or two locations in the city in a row. Too dangerous. Without a scarf she drew more attention than she wanted. She’d had a few close calls before she’d figured out how important those scarves were.
Miranda was twenty-five, and she suspected if she stayed in this demon world, she wouldn’t make it to twenty-six.
As far as she could tell, she was the only human in the world.
She shivered, even though the air was warm around her. Miranda tightened her hands on her only real companion. Petey was a type of dog of some sort; she wasn’t sure what. He looked something like a beagle, but he had spines down his back just underneath his fur. There were tiny horns just above his big brown eyes. He was small, maybe fifteen pounds, and she suspected he was still a puppy.
He was all she had and she adored him. “It’s ok, Petey. We just have to wait a while until the crowd is gone. Then we’ll head on home.”
She usually strapped him into a harness she carried in her pack before she climbed the column. Once inside, she would cover the entrance with an old tapestry she’d found in one of the abandoned buildings nearby. It wasn’t much, but for her and Petey, it was home.
She had her bag slung over her shoulder and a smaller one shoved in the pocket of the weird gray trousers she wore. Inside that bag was her entire net worth. What would translate back in the real world to about five dollars or so. It wasn’t much, and she knew it.
Purple and yellow stones unlike any she’d ever seen in her world were worth about half a day’s worth of food for her each. She spent several hours each morning searching the banks of the nearby river for those stones. Once she had two or three—they were extremely difficult to find—she’d trade them to a merchant in the center of the town. He’d give her enough coin to buy some of the weird grain that could be cooked simply by soaking it in water for a few hours and some type of fruit or vegetable that he also sold. She usually boiled the vegetables to make broth to help spread the food out a few days. She rarely had meat—Dardaptoan vampires preferred fish, grains, fruits and veggies, apparently.
He’d rarely asked her any questions, just took her money and wished her a good day. His daughter was just as polite. Miranda always carried a green scarf like his in her bag. She’d swap it for whatever other color she was wearing that day. So that he didn’t realize she actually didn’t belong to the same family as he did. The man and his daughter were her only real contact among the vampires, along with some of the women who wore buttery yellow clothes who she’d see on the same roads she used.