Beneath Blood and Bone (Thicker Than Blood #2) Read online

  This was a world where I could be queen, where my presence should have both the dead and the living falling to their knees before me.

  Because I would never go gentle into that good night.

  I would forever rage against the dying of the light.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Olivia

  I’m going to kill them.

  Lying flat on my back on the cold cement, I brought the top half of my body up, almost touching my elbows to my knees. What number sit-up was I on? I didn’t know; I’d lost count. This was my routine. Push-ups until my arms burned, sit-ups until my stomach cramped, and then I would run in place until my legs felt like jelly and I could no longer stand.

  Every last one of them, I’m going to tear to shreds. Even if I have to do it with my own two hands, I’ll find a way to destroy them all.

  Nobody treated me this way. And yet lately, everyone had been treating me like shit. First Eagle and his little peeshwank bitch, and now Jeffers.

  Rolling over, I pushed myself up and leaned against the damp and dirty wall.

  Jeffers. Couyon. My nostrils flared. God, what I wouldn’t give to see him die, watch as the life faded from him, useless man that he was. With any luck, he was dying right now from the bullet I’d sent through his side. A smile crept across my face as I prayed he’d already bled out. And if not, then I prayed for an infection to set in.

  My smile widened. I hoped it was a painful and horribly slow death. I hoped he felt himself rotting away. It was the least he deserved for letting Eagle and his whore leave Purgatory, and then for locking me away. And after all I done for him, been for him. He’d locked me away!

  Through narrowed eyes, I glanced around my prison cell. It was the same room I’d locked others inside over the years, forcing them to wait in darkness and solitude before presenting them with the fight to their death.

  It wasn’t any better than the shack I’d grown up in, although this might have actually been somewhat cleaner, and was devoid of the many smells of the swamp where I’d once lived. Also blessedly absent was my bon à rien papa, a drunk who couldn’t keep a job . . . or his hands to himself.

  My hands balled into fists, and I squeezed until I felt my nails split the skin on my palms. Bowing my head, I grimaced as several strands of greasy hair fell over my eyes. How long were they going to keep me in here, feeding me their leftover slop? Me!

  I had no idea how much time had passed. There were no windows, no light except for the slivers that shone from the hallway when a pair of guards would come to bring me my meals or to empty the bucket I was forced to use as a toilet. Always two guards would come, sometimes three, as if they didn’t trust me to behave.

  I giggled. They were right not to trust me. I couldn’t be trusted, and I would never behave.

  My gaze dropped to my lap, at my crisscrossed legs and bare feet, and my smile fell away. I was filthy. My jeans and top were smeared with dirt from the floor and walls, as were my feet, and I was soaked with sweat and God only knew what else.

  I promised myself long ago I’d never be filthy again.

  I’d promised myself a lot of things over the course of my thirty years on this earth, and yet every time I thought I’d managed one of my goals, something always got in my way.

  This time it had been Eagle.

  It had always been Eagle I’d wanted, never Jeffers, sad sack of shit that he was. But Eagle hadn’t wanted me, he hadn’t wanted anyone, and I’d been forced to settle for Jeffers if I wanted to be anything other than one of the many whores Purgatory offered.

  I wasn’t a whore.

  But then finally, Eagle had wanted someone. Just not me.

  Never me!

  Footsteps in the hall had my ears twitching. They grew louder, closer, the dull pound of hardened rubber against cement telling me one of two things. Either it was time to eat, or time to switch my bucket.

  My heartbeat sped up as anger coursed through me. How long will I be kept in here? How could Jeffers do this to me?

  The chains on the door jangled loudly, followed by several wooden creaks. I took a calming breath, and when that didn’t work, I tried grinding my teeth and squeezing my fists tighter, worsening the pain radiating through my hands.

  “You will get through this,” I gritted out softly. “You’ve lived through worse.”

  The door pushed open and light flooded the room. So accustomed to the dark, even the fluorescent light from the lamps strung in the halls was enough to momentarily blind me and leave me seeing spots.

  While I blinked repeatedly, the footsteps grew closer, much closer than they normally did, until I could practically feel the large presence looming over me.

  I stayed utterly still, not willing to as much as breathe in case this was it. Would it be a swift death? Or would I be taken to the pits, forced to fight a rotter or worse, one of my own fighters?

  I would lose. I wasn’t big enough, wasn’t physically strong enough to go up against any one of my fighters. And after all I’d put them through, they’d undoubtedly take pleasure in prolonging my death.

  My only option was to escape, to somehow fight my way out of here. I only hoped I had enough strength to accomplish it. The lack of sunlight and what little food and water they’d been giving me had left me weaker than I’d been in a long time.

  How long have I been in here?

  “Liv.”

  Adam?

  I blinked my watery eyes, attempting to put a face to the shadow above me. Dark skin, a close-shorn head of black hair, deep yet soft dark brown eyes, and unfairly symmetrical and handsome features. And beneath his baggy clothing, I knew there was a body built specifically to please a woman.

  Ademar—known as Adam around Purgatory—was here. But why? We might have shared a few orgasms, but I wasn’t born yesterday. The man hated me as much as everyone else did.

  “Jeffers is dying.” His tone was oddly expressionless, devoid of his usual good nature. It threw me for a loop, having never heard him sound so . . . cold. Adam wasn’t cold, even after all he’d been through. He was infuriatingly happy and uncommonly good.

  “So fucking what?” I shot him a nasty smile and shrugged my aching shoulders. He knew Jeffers meant very little to me. The man had always been and would always be a means to an end. He’d never loved me, and I’d never loved him. We served a mutual purpose to each other, even though his purpose in my life had always been far from satisfying.

  Now, Eagle . . . that had been a satisfying man. Until he too had become weak and useless.

  Adam dropped down on one knee before me, and I shot a glance at the door. Two guards stood there—guards that had once taken orders from me—with their weapons pointed at my head. I couldn’t take them, but if I lunged, maybe I could catch one of them off guard, take their weapon and shoot my way out of here.

  “Only a few of us know,” he continued. “Tryin’ to keep the peace and all. But Jeffers doesn’t have a successor lined up—”

  “He did,” I spat out, feeling a surge of bitterness. “Eagle.”

  Adam’s brow rose. “Yeah, puta, not much good that does us now, does it?”

  “What do you want, pretty boy?” Craning my neck, I glared up at him. “Did you come here to gloat?” I laughed loudly. “Go right ahead. I don’t give a fuck what you think.”

  “We’re staging a coup before all hell breaks loose.” His deep voice was considerably lower as he let me in on his secret. Pausing, he shot a glance at the two guards by the door. “Only a few of us are in on it.”

  Shock rippled through me. A coup? Adam and a merry band of misfit guards were going to overthrow Jeffers’s reign? My shock transformed quickly to excitement at the possibilities.

  “You need me,” I purred, unclenching my fists and reaching for him, but he slapped my hands away. I fought the urge to punch him. He hadn’t found me so repulsive not all that long ago. He hadn’t slapped me away then. Countless times, I’d done things to his body that had shocked that pretty-boy
smile right off his face and left him begging for more.

  “I do,” he agreed, grimacing. “You’ve been a figurehead here a long time now. I’m going to need your support on this if I want them to listen to me.”

  “If you want them not to riot and kill you,” I corrected him, forcing myself to sound as sweet as cane sugar. “Get me out of here and I’ll make sure the crown passes to you. And me, of course,” I added.

  Cocking his head to one side, Adam stared at me, his expression still unusually blank.

  “You’re misunderstanding me,” he said softly. “I don’t want the crown. I want the power so I can change this place. But these people are too used to being treated like animals. That’s where you come in. You show your support of me, they’ll trust me, and then slowly I’ll start to change things.”

  “And what about me?” I hissed. Now I understood what he wanted—to use me like a whore for his own gains. What would happen when I was of no use to him anymore? What would my fate be?

  “You’ll do as you’re told,” he whispered cruelly. “Exactly as you’re told, or you will die.”

  I opened my mouth, and Adam held his hand up. “You’ll die in this room. Alone. You won’t have some grand exit, and you won’t be able to take anyone down with you. You’ll wither away right the hell here until there’s nothing left. I’ll make sure of it.”

  My insides were trembling, raging, as I stared up at him. He was no better than the others. No better than any man I’d ever encountered. He wanted to use and use and use, and then discard me when I was no longer of use.

  No matter how hard I fought, I would never be one of them, one of the women who was cherished and revered for her strength and tenacity. I would always be the piece of garbage I was born to be. Like gratin, usually forgotten about and thrown away.

  “Fuck you,” I hissed. “Fuck your coup, and fuck you!”

  Adam jumped to his feet. “Good-bye, Liv.”

  My heart racing, my thoughts spinning, I watched with both anger and sorrow as he headed toward the door.

  I couldn’t die in here, not after everything. I had to make this work somehow. Somehow I would find my legs once again and I would use them to trample them all.

  I’ll make them all pay.

  I just needed time. Time to form a plan and gain allies. And Adam would unknowingly give me that time.

  As the guards parted and Adam moved between them, I scrambled to my feet.

  “Wait!”

  Standing between the two guards, Adam paused and turned to face me. One dark eyebrow rose in question.

  Gritting my teeth, balling my hands into fists at my sides, I nodded sharply. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Adam’s unreadable stare seemed to penetrate me, leaving me feeling as if he could see straight through my lies. Even so, he nodded once and turned to leave.

  “I’ll be back,” he said over his shoulder.

  As the door shut behind him and I was once again locked inside, I turned away, and grinned.

  More Dystopian Adventures

  The Soul Mate

  (The Holy Trinity Book 1)

  by USA Today bestselling author

  Madeline Sheehan

  Having barely escaped a worldwide apocalyptic plague that has transformed most of humanity into flesh-eating monsters, a young woman named Trinity finds sanctuary with a band of roving Gypsies who possess magical powers she’d never dreamed existed.

  Safely entrenched in the magically protected Gypsy camp, Trinity finds herself facing a whole new set of problems, the biggest being a six-foot-four-inch Scandinavian Gypsy who compels Trinity the way no other man has ever before. Unable to control her impulses around him, she soon becomes convinced he is using his magic on her.

  While the remaining humans are fighting for their very survival, Trinity is at the same time fighting a very different battle. She is fighting for the right to choose her own destiny.

  Note to readers:

  The Gypsy cultures, traditions, languages, and lifestyles depicted in this novel have been altered to reflect the author’s imagination, and are not intended as a depiction of real-world Gypsies. No Gypsies were harmed in the production of this novel.

  Odium The Dead Saga

  (Book 1)

  by USA Today bestselling author

  Claire C. Riley

  It’s better to die by the gun than die by the dead.

  Nina’s life was irrevocably changed when humanity’s dead began to rise. Now, she lives behind the walls.

  The barricaded cities, erected by the government to protect the remnants of civilization, have become a brutal dictatorship—causing the inhabitants within to starve, steal, and claw for survival. Life behind the walls has become as terrifying as roaming the zombie-ridden landscape beyond.

  Citizens trade what they can to gain food, water, and shelter. Nina has only one currency, her body, and she is tired of submitting herself to the greedy hands of the self-proclaimed leaders.

  An opportunity to escape presents itself in the fate of a young girl named Emily-Rose. For the price of a stale piece of bread, she is set for banishment from the city, and most likely a horrific death at the hands of the deaders. Nina tells herself that it is sympathy and not self-preservation that makes her follow the young girl out of the walled metropolis, and into the overgrown world beyond.

  Unused to fighting the deaders, Nina tries to scrounge for her survival, and against her better judgment, she begins to care for Emily-Rose. However, when you have a bread-stealing liability providing your only backup, survival seems even tougher. Nina is forced to fight for their lives, and with every zombie slain, she becomes fiercer, faster, a grim reaper with her not-so-sharp butcher’s knife.

  Along the path to a safe haven that might not exist, Nina and Emily-Rose meet Mikey, who introduces them to a new life they could not imagine, a life above the ground. However, this new world brings new dangers, and darker shadows than she knew.

  Nina finds out that the deaders aren’t the only thing to fear beyond the wall.

  And that fear will not be ignored, or forgotten.