Blood of my Enemy Read online

  Blood

  of My Enemy

  Kings of Sterling

  Leeah Taylor

  BLOOD OF MY ENEMY

  Copyright © 2020 Leeah Taylor.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incident are the product of imagination, or used in a fictionalized manner. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Front cover image by Delicious Book Covers.

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Contents

  Ramsey|1

  Ramsey|2

  Ramsey|3

  Ramsey|4

  Ramsey|5

  Ramsey|6

  Ramsey|7

  Lucien|8

  Thank you so much for reading!

  Ramsey|1

  Tapping his fingers on the table, Ramsey kept his attention on the brunette at the other end of the bar. She trailed her pretty manicured fingers down a man’s chest, leaning in too close with her plump crimson lips pressed to his ear. Whatever she whispered was lost in the low chatter of the bar. He didn’t miss the devious spark in her gaze when she glanced at him in the corner though.

  Keep it up, princess.

  He tolerated Rebecca’s little games and indulged her whims. She had a habit of taking it too far. A graze of her lips here. A southerly touch there. Either to provoke him in giving her what she wanted in bed or just to rile him up. All it accomplished was pissing him off. She’d do anything for attention. She craved it like an addict looking for her next fix.

  Checking his watch, he grumbled and swiped the beer from the table. Was it too much to ask to show up on time? There was no reason to stay any longer than necessary. It was too close to Sterling. Too close to be seen with her again like three years ago. It almost ruined everything.

  Tracking Juliette Marquis down has almost ruined everything.

  Crafty, resourceful little hybrid she’d turned out to be. She was definitely using magic to cloak herself, rendering his locator spells useless. He tried to avoid getting anyone else involved. Stay under the radar. After years of trying to track her, he finally conceded. Rebecca had demanded it. She was tired of waiting for results.

  He let his attention drift back to her. The bartender set a shot glass down and filled it to the brim with tequila. Her cheeks were flushed with the liquor already warming her veins. She flicked her eyes in his direction and traced her tongue over her bottom lip. Pretty plump red lips that needed to remember the rules. She could play all she wanted, but at the end of the night, only one man was claiming them.

  She had fallen in his lap five years ago. Literally. It was either dumb luck or perfect timing. She looked cute, tipsy and swaying through the bar. Landed in his lap after stumbling with big brown hungry eyes. She was supposed to be some fun in the sack. He just wanted to sate the need for a connection with someone. Anyone. But she turned out to be Rebecca Law, and it was like Christmas morning. She was his ticket back to Sterling.

  A means to an end.

  He didn’t plan on falling for her, though. In his way, at least. Rebecca was complicated; her insecurities ran deeper than he could fix. She needed constant supervision to keep from getting into too much trouble. But she was beautiful, and, when she wasn’t playing her games, enjoyable company.

  A body stepped in his line of sight, blocking the bar and Rebecca. Annoyance trickled through him.

  “You Ramsey?”

  He took in the man blocking his view. Leather jacket, eyes like a cat, worn jeans. Must be the tracker.

  About damn time.

  Ramsey nodded, leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of Rebecca. She was onto man number two, and another shot glass had appeared in front of her. The tight black dress hugged dangerously to her curves. Every man in the bar had eyes on her.

  I should have made her stay back at the motel.

  “Have a seat.”

  The man sat in the chair across from Ramsey. “So, you’re looking for someone.”

  “You got a name?”

  The man shifted in his seat. “Is that a requirement?”

  “I don’t know.” Ramsey settled back in his chair, lifting the beer to his lips. “Is paying you a requirement?”

  “Cash.”

  Bright one, aren’t you?

  “I figured as much.”

  The man shook his head, chuckling. “No, my name is Cash.”

  Annoyance flashed through his chest, pulling it tight. He should have thought twice before meeting someone on the full moon. A subtle reminder pinged deep in his core. Or dealing with Rebecca’s head games. He caught a glimpse of her wedging herself between a guy’s legs. A vibration echoed and shuddered through his bones.

  He clenched his fist. Don’t fucking do it.

  “I’m looking for a woman.” He pulled his attention from Rebecca. She was treading dangerously on the edge of their rules.

  Cash smirked and looked over his shoulder. He raked his defiling gaze down her body. Ramsey gripped tighter to the bottle. Another echo shook down in his bones.

  Don’t do it. He forced out a shaky breath.

  Cash turned back to him with a grin. “Looks like you already found one.”

  “Not her,” Ramsey growled.

  He never meant to get so attached to her.

  “Ever hear the name Juliette Marquis?” he asked, forcing himself to keep his focus on the tracker.

  Cash leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and went quiet.

  So, he’s heard the name before. Good.

  “Well?”

  “The Juliette Marquis? The witch hybrid?” Cash asked.

  “The one and only.”

  If it fazed the man, he didn’t show it. He just sat back, in thought, studying Ramsey.

  “Heard her name pop up a few times over the years. Damien Frost is searching for her. Might have something to say about a wolf looking for her too.”

  He wasn’t as cunning as he obviously believed. Ramsey knew very well Damien was looking for her. He knew just about every move the Frosts made. Which made this all the more frustrating. If Damien couldn’t find her with the resources he had at his disposal, Ramsey had to wonder if she was dead.

  That would be a shame.

  He cursed himself for not keeping an eye on her earlier before she fell off the map. She wasn’t needed back then. Shame on him for getting too complacent about her and her whereabouts.

  “Can you find her?” Ramsey asked.

  Cash thought about it. “Ten grand.”

  “Done.”

  By the look on his face, he’d expected more of a fight. He probably should have asked for more. Ramsey would have paid it.

  “What do you want with her?”

  Ramsey smirked with the beer at his lips. “Now, that is none of your business.”

  “I just don’t want the Frosts tracking me down after you’ve killed her or something.”

  “Then don’t leave a paper trail.”

  Cash’s jaw ticked, and Ramsey had to wonder if he needed to end this right now.

  “Any lead I can follow?”

  Money always trumps morals.

  “Now if I had a lead, do you think I’d be hiring someone to find her?”

  “Got a picture?”

  He shook his head. All he had was the description Rebecca gave him. Which wasn’t exactly reliable. He’d never had the pleasure of seeing her in the flesh.

  “Brunette, about 5’5, and she has purple eyes.” He stole a look up at the bar, quiet rage igniting in his chest when a man’s hand gripped her ass. “More than likely working in bars. Places that’ll pay her under the table. At least my source insists on it.”


  That’s my ass, and it’s going to be red when I’m done with it.

  “Who’s your source?”

  “A reliable one.”

  Or as reliable as Rebecca could be. He waded through her vilifying hatred of Juliette to pick out what was mostly true and utter trash. She loathed Juliette Marquis for nothing more than she had what she wanted. Damien Frost’s attention. Everything else in between was Rebecca’s insecurities fueling the narrative.

  “In the state? Out of the state?” Cash asked.

  “Probably in the state.”

  All he had to go on was his gut. Juliette meant something to the Frosts, but they meant something to her too. She probably wouldn’t stray far from home. He never had. Not too far, at least. Why would she be any different? Sterling, no matter how miserable his childhood, was home. Lingering close was a default setting.

  Standing, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. He placed it on the table and locked eyes with the man.

  “Five grand now and the other five when you find her.”

  Cash picked up the envelope and thumbed through the bills before nodding. “Give me a couple of days. Finding a girl with purple eyes shouldn’t be so hard.”

  “Avoid using her name if you can. Be as discreet as possible.”

  “I’m good for a reason.” Cash pocketed the money, stood, and offered his hand. “I’ll call.”

  Ramsey took his hand with a squeeze. “Screw me over, and the Frosts will be the least of your concerns.”

  “I don’t screw people over, but I appreciate the threat.”

  He eyed Cash walking out the door before turning his attention back to Rebecca. She leaned in closer to her newest target. The man’s grubby hand gave a squeeze, but she squeezed something too.

  He stormed across the room with his fists clenched at his side, and Rebecca’s lips perked up. She pushed away from the man as he reared back. A sharp sting erupted in his hand when he connected with the man’s nose. The man went backwards off the stool, grabbing for the bar, but he just missed and hit the floor instead.

  “Keep your hands to yourself.” Ramsey glared at Rebecca.

  “Broke my fucking nose.” The man scurried to his feet, holding to it.

  Ramsey could easily take him. The ache down his bones was looking for an outlet to soothe the beast scratching to get loose. But he’d rather take his anger out on the person that deserved it, and it wasn’t this man.

  “I’ll break more if you don’t stop looking like you want more,” he warned. “Try me.”

  She had the nerve to bat her eyes up at him as if she were innocent. “Hi, handsome.”

  “Had your fun?” he gritted out.

  She slid her hands around his waist, blinking up at him. “Are you done playing big bad secret agent?”

  He rolled his eyes. “We’re leaving.”

  Reaching into his back pocket, he took out two hundred-dollar bills and laid them on the bar.

  “Buy a few rounds on me,” he said.

  With a hand around her arm, Ramsey steered her toward the door. She was only allowed to play if she didn’t break the rules. He wasn’t about to risk it all because she was feeling neglected.

  The door slammed against the brick building when he stormed outside, and he had her pressed up against the bricks before it clicked closed.

  “What have I told you?” he growled.

  “I don’t know.” She smirked, pressing into his chest. “Remind me.”

  “You know damn well. You don’t touch.”

  “I didn’t—"

  “The hell you didn’t. Gave him a good squeeze, didn’t you?” He clenched his jaw.

  She blatantly did things for attention. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. Like a damned child. He couldn’t afford the attention when he had to swoop in and rescue her when she pushed it too far. When a guy got too handsy or forceful.

  She batted her pretty brown eyes and slid her skilled tongue over her bottom lip at any guy that looked to have a few hundred in his pocket. Then charmed them out of drinks and whatever else she could. Taking them for every dollar they had in their wallet. She begged, thirsted, for the attention.

  Ramsey had money. It was just part of her game. Fine. Play her game. Let her do what she wanted within reason. Never had anything to do with jealousy.

  Bullshit.

  It paled in comparison for his need to get what he wanted. Twenty-five years was a long time to wait. Rebecca pranced around, pinching, squeezing, and hustling guys. It had the potential to destroy his hard work. Especially if it caught the right kind of attention.

  A witch? A vampire? She needed to knock the shit off.

  “Pfft, rules apply to you too.” She pushed him off. “You just make sure you remember that when you find Jules.”

  Ramsey closed his eyes, cursing under his breath.

  For fuck’s sake, here we go.

  “Becca!” He caught up with her halfway across the parking lot. Even in heels, she managed to keep a few steps ahead of him. “We’ve been over this.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and twisted her around. A fiery hatred laced with all her jealous rage for the witch hybrid glared back at him.

  “I don’t need rules to keep me in line.” He pushed her back until she was pressed up against his truck. “It’s you and your inherent need for constant attention that requires rules. I let you play and have your fun. You insist on pushing the limits.”

  “Just wait. You’ll lay eyes on her, and like a fucking siren, she’ll take you from me too.”

  “Are you that insecure?”

  She went to say something, but the hurt he saw must have stopped her. Hurt or not, it was the truth. Everything he’d managed to learn, and he never figured out what made her this way. Utterly ruined by something, or someone.

  It wasn’t for lack of trying. He treated her like a fucking queen. Gave her all the love and attention she could possibly ever want, but it was never enough. No matter how much he tried to love her, she still believed the worst. In him. In their world. In all of it.

  “What’s it going to take, sweetheart?” He cupped a hand to her cheek. “What do I need to do to make you see that I love you? Why am I not enough?”

  He wanted to be enough. Get what he was owed. Give the Frosts what they deserved. Then give Rebecca all she ever desired.

  She swallowed and looked away from him. “I’m ready to go back to the motel.”

  Sighing, he kissed her on the forehead then reached over to the passenger door and opened it.

  “Then let’s go back to the motel.”

  Ramsey|2

  Home became whatever motel room they had for a night or two. Sometimes three. However long it took to comb through the city looking for Juliette. Checking every bar packed from stool to stool.

  It got old. Quick.

  He yearned for home. For the smell of freshly baked pastries in the District. The view of the Falls from the Riverfront. His father may have confined him, hidden him away like a dirty little secret, but he had managed to sneak out on occasion. Stealing glimpses of the city that should have been his home until finally, he escaped.

  Rebecca was adamant Juliette all but lived in Juleps back in Sterling. Worked behind that bar like she owned it herself. Right beside her favorite brother, Oliver Frost.

  I hate that fucker.

  By the usual vehemence, he took what she said at face value. Her jealousy ran too deeply, and she struck like a venomous little viper when her insecurities were challenged. It eventually got her outcasted from Sterling. He knew what she did. Bile rose, and he worked to swallow it back.

  In a lot of ways, she was no better than the witches that strung up his Tess. His pure, sweet Tess. They hung and burned her for nothing more than loving him. Marrying him. Because she was a witch and he was a hybrid mutt. Going against their precious union laws.

  I should have taken her home to Sterling. Maybe she
’d still be alive.

  They took away everything he held dear to his heart. Stripped away the little bit of humanity he had left. And they paid for it in the end.

  Too bad it was too late.

  But love was funny, and somewhere along the line he fell in love with Rebecca Law.

  “You all packed to go back to Sterling tomorrow?” he asked.

  Rebecca didn’t say anything, and he glanced up from the pages spread over the table. She laid across the bed on her tummy wearing only a white tee with the TV remote in her hand. She clicked through the channels with a scowl on her pretty lips. Cute little ass peeked out from the bottom of the tee.

  “Are you pouting, sweetheart?”

  He smirked when she clicked the remote with a little more determination. She could be so damned stubborn like a child sometimes.

  Giving the pages in front of him one last look, he stuffed them back into the grimoire beside him and closed it. Rebecca was very proud of herself when she showed up with Juliette’s grimoire. It was one of two that he needed, but hers was more useful at the time. She took a big risk to get it. If she had been caught sneaking into the coveted Frost office at Juleps, he had no doubts she’d have been killed.

  And his plans ruined.

  “Sweetheart?” He lowered his voice, taking off his shirt as he moved toward the bed. “What are those pretty red lips pulled down for?”

  She kept her eyes trained on the screen as she clicked with more fervor than needed. Ramsey chuckled, kneeling on the bed beside her, sweeping the hair away from her neck.

  “Can’t stay mad at me forever.”

  “I sure can.” She pouted.

  He straddled her legs, palmed her ass, and leaned forward to run the tip of his nose over the side of her neck. “You going to behave yourself in Sterling like a good girl?”

  She needed to get close to Damien Frost. For her, that spelled disaster. Between her history with the Frosts and her need for attention, she had the potential to ruin everything. But he had no more options. Not when what he needed sat protected in the Frost house. Warded with a spell that required an invitation. Rebecca was his only hope to get into their home.