Set In Sparks (Morningstars Book 2)

SET IN SPARKS

Sam Destiny

Set In Spark
s
©2015 by Sam Destiny

All rights reserved.

Amazon Edition

Cover Copyright © Airicka’s Mystical Creations

Formatting © Airicka’s Mystical Creations

www.AirickaPhoenix.com

Edits by Bree Vanderland of Fire Hearts Editing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied or reproduced without written consent of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places or people, living or dead, is coincidenta
l
.

For all those boys that grow up.

For all those men that man up.

For all those souls that belong nowhere.

This is for yo
u
.

He hated Helpston with a vengeance he never knew he possessed. The streets were dirty, covered in scum and shadows. The latter didn’t bother him, but the former actually pissed him off. He didn't have much of a choice though since the rat he
had hired would draw less attention here than at his normal area.

As he waited for scuffling of shoes against asphalt, memories of a few months back played behind his closed eyelids. His priorities had shifted greatly since then and even though he had been ready to tear down the Morningstar Queen, he now wished he'd never thought about that in the first place. If he had stayed away from Helpston, he wouldn't be knee-deep in obsession and he wouldn't have to hide in corners that stank of piss and vomit, sneaking around as if he was worthy nothing more than those lowlifes he dealt with.

Finally the squishing of soles against pavement announced his contact's arrival. The guy reeked of dead blood and decay. Was it even possible for Hellraise to stay healthy with the amount of blood they were consuming? Probably not, but he didn't care as long as the dude didn't utter his last words while being here with him.

“What do you have?” he asked and the scumbag raised a brow.

“You know, I know what you are thinking by the way you are looking at me, but let's be honest here: Who of the two of us is really the one we who should be despised? After all, I get to see the Queen regularly. I take in the smell of her sweet blood, see her fair skin and dark waves. I could even -”

“You could even shut up. If I hear any of you touching her, I will make life a personal hell for you. And trust me when I say I can.”

“What do you have, man? Nothing. You don't have money. Hell, you don't have influence, either.”

He seriously didn't like this dude's attitude and liked his words even less. “I don't have any influence, and yet you come running the moment I call,” he snarled and the guy across the alley huffed his cheeks. Those idiots loved what he was providing and therefore would always come back.

“Tell me what you gotta say. I seriously can't differentiate between the way you smell and the way this corner does. Then again, maybe if you spend enough time in shitholes like this one, you'll take the stink on... and the look, too, if the sight before me is any evidence to go by,” he taunted, leaning against the wall next to the contact to appear calmer than he actually was.

“She left again. Will you attack this time?”

“Did she take someone?”

The guy in front of him was brave enough to laugh at him. Stupid, really, if you considered whom he was up against. “Did the Queen take someone with her after leaving the house? No, of course she didn't. I mean, why should she? A lone female, worth more than her entire race combined should always roam the streets alone.” Not for the first time since the meetings with this certain scumbag had started did he wonder if the guy once had been higher up in society. Were his parents the elite of said Queen's race? The way that dude spoke at least hinted towards high class upbringing. “Will you attack her this time or will you stalk the house and wait until she returns to that damn fortress of hers again?”

There would be no attack. In fact, most of the time he was just the back-up, making sure that no one ever got the chance to get close enough to her to hurt or touch the Queen. That was with exception of that damn freaking mate she had. The rumors about the warrior's downfall had spread high and low; starting with his eyes bleeding out of his head to him having been reincarnated by their very own Creator. It bothered him that he didn't know the real story.

“I don't think it's any of your business what I plan on doing. Where?”

“Upper Helpston?” His nice little rat was developing an attitude and it pissed him off big time. He was the one in charge and yet depended on Hellraise to tell him where the object of his obsession was going, because in contrary to them, her blood didn't call out to him. This certain siren's song was reserved for those who wouldn't be able to refuse any drop of blood, especially not the royal drops her precious hands would be able to provide. The way he understood it was that blood could sustain them longer than any other - if it wouldn't burn the hell out of them or get the Morningstar warriors on their tail. By the Creator, how he hated those bastards. They cared way too much about his precious Queen; not that she knew that she was his yet.

“Where exactly?” he inquired, but the low-life just leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

“That desperate to see her again, huh?” the rat taunted and he had to breathe deeply a few times to keep himself from doing something stupid, something like killing that little piece of shit.

With a shake of his head he realized that his language had taken a turn for the worse in the last months. The contacts were few and far down the social ranks. In fact, so far down he wasn't sure they ranked at all.

“Tell me or there will be blood spilled, and I promised it won't be the one you think about.”

Finally the guy pushed off the wall and sobered considerably. “You don't wanna go there tonight. It's gonna piss you off and last time they almost caught you.”

He gritted his teeth at the onslaught of pictures. The Queen and her damn mate were out together and whereas the beginning had been a rough one between them, they had gotten quite cozy over the last months, leading to handholding and almost PDA. It made him sick to the core. She shouldn't be looking so happy every time that bastard was around.

“Rumor has it he hated her guts when first realizing he was supposed to mate her. How the fuck did it turn to them doing walks in a group of five and still appearing as if the world had shrunk down to them?” The rat shook his head, regret on his face, regret and longing, which he hadn’t expected to come from a Hellraise like the one in front of him; in fact, he didn’t expect it in
any
Hellraise at all.

“Jealous much?” he snickered, but the guy just cocked a head.

“Every damn vampire of the race wants his own Origin, but only few get lucky.”

“I hadn't realized fuckers like you could get sentimental. Or a female.”

“Only if fate plans it that way.” Fate sucked. There was nothing clearer out there. He had gotten the wrong end of the deal and didn't know how to correct it. “So, you still want to know where your precious is?” the other guy pulled him from his thoughts.

Debating if not seeing her was worse than seeing her coddled and kissed by her damn mate, he made fists at his side, frustration needing a release. He just didn't know where to go with his anger and asking for trouble was not his way of dealing with it. No matter how pissed he was, hand-on-hand-combat wasn't anything he indulged in because it ruined your clothes and your face.

His healing abilities were outstanding, no doubt about that, but he preferred avoiding injuries in the first place.

“Here's your whore,” he announced, pulling the drugged girl close by her hair. In fact, she wasn't a whore at all. There was nothing purer than virgins and as much as he wished the peculiar taste of his
business partner
would be different, he didn't mind to serve to it. Sure, finding virgins in today's society was hard, but it gave him something to do during the long, dark hours between seeing his Queen one night and then the next. If only there was a way to get closer to her to prove that no one was more devoted than him! But one night his chance would come and once he'd present her with what he considered to be the wedding gift, she'd be forever his. There was no doubt about that in his mind.

Stalking out of the dark alley, leaving behind munching noises that would have made any other person nauseous; he hoped that one night soon he'd get the fix he craved so much. It wouldn't be that night because in his anger he maybe would be tempted to hurt her one way or another, but soon, very soon, she wouldn't be able to withdraw from him or hide behind her mate. Sometime in the very near future, those violet eyes would be upon him with adoration and gratitude.

Sometime soon, the Queen would be standing in the blood of her warriors and not care the leas
t
.