Burning Ash Read online

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  Dedication

  Forgotten Brotherhood

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more Amara titles… Bane’s Choice

  The Rogue King

  Pirate’s Persuasion

  Night’s Kiss

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by N.J. Walters. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Rd

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  [email protected]

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Candace Havens

  Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by MRBIG_PHOTOGRAPHY/iStock

  [email protected]/DepositPhotos

  ISBN 978-1-64937-054-9

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition September 2020

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  Author’s Note

  The world is rich in mythology. Every culture in the history of time has left a legacy—written and unwritten—for those of us who came after. As a writer, I draw on those myths, legends, and beliefs and twist them to create something totally new. So, while you may recognize many familiar creatures, gods, or belief systems in this series, this world is something totally new. Expect the unexpected. It can, and will, happen. This is a work of fiction, as told to me by the characters portrayed within the pages.

  The world is a wild and crazy place. I don’t know how I’d get through it without my family. Your love and support is everything.

  Forgotten Brotherhood

  Asher feared no one—man, creature, or god. He’d long passed his normal lifespan. Those he’d loved had been lost to the sands of time. Now the only ones he called friends were the Forgotten Brotherhood.

  The Brotherhood had been created by the fallen angel Maccus after the two of them had been hired for the same job. What could have led to mass bloodshed had instead spawned the Forgotten.

  They were the most dangerous men in existence, loners with loyalty to no one. They had no pack, no coven or community. Or at least none that would claim them.

  They killed only those who deserved to die—paranormal creatures that murdered without discrimination. Try to hire one of them to slay someone innocent or who didn’t deserve to die? Well, that never ended well for the one trying to secure the contract.

  They mostly kept to themselves, but they all lived by a code. Kill only those that deserved it and let their gods sort them out. Kill them before they killed you. Never, ever betray a fellow assassin.

  Simple and easy with little room for discussion. Because once a contract was accepted, it was carried out. There was no other option.

  In their line of work, there could be no mistakes.

  Chapter One

  “You have got to be kidding.” Asher stood in the shadows at the back of the abandoned church in rural Kentucky, exasperated by the spectacle unfolding in front of him. A multitude of candles flickered in the light breeze as two dozen fawning acolytes—or as he liked to call them, idiots—stood with their attention focused on the man standing on the slightly dilapidated raised dais.

  “I am Prince Vlad. I am the father of all vampires.”

  He barely kept from snorting at the ludicrous pronouncement. It was all kinds of wrong. Not only was Vlad the Impaler not the father of all vampires, he was also very dead.

  And how did he know that for certain? He’d been the one to handle that job some three hundred years ago when the former prince had gone on a rather long and extensive bloody spree across Europe.

  But then again, Vlad always had been bloodthirsty with a flair for the dramatic.

  “You are my chosen.” Fake Vlad dramatically raised his arms up into the air and flashed his fangs. The audience gasped in awe and took a collective step back.

  Boring. If he hurried, he could probably catch an episode of the Real Housewives of somewhere. It would definitely be better than this second-rate theatrical performance.

  “Who will be the first to offer me their blood?” The pretender had barely finished his request before everyone there flung themselves toward him. Okay, not everyone. No way in hell was he offering up his vein to this baby vamp.

  He wasn’t certain why he was here other than pure curiosity. An unusual email had come in. Not to the Forgotten Brotherhood website where all potential clients made contact, but to his personal inbox. That in itself was odd enough to require investigation.

  Even more curious, he couldn’t trace the email. That was cause for concern.

  With the technical skills he’d acquired over the years, he was a master of the electronic world, could trace virtually anyone anywhere. Whoever had sent the message was equally wily at shielding themselves. He’d chased it through servers scattered around the world before running it down to a dead end in Beijing.

  The information in the note had been short and simple. Humans were being lured by the promise of immortality and then being slaughtered.

  Normally, he wouldn’t get involved. As one of the Brotherhood, he worked by contract only. His days of freelancing were long done. It was the job of the Vampire Council to monitor these kinds of situations. As soon as they got word of what was happening, they’d send someone—likely the vamp’s maker—to clean up his mess.

  Asher’s skills were kept for those the Council couldn’t handle—the very old and powerful that were too deadly and dangerous for most.

  Because everyone and everything could be killed. Even the gods.

  Those that had lived the longest were sometimes the worst. They locked themselves away, fearful of losing their lives.

  He didn’t understand it. What they were doing wasn’t living. They might as well be dead. But who was he to judge? His life certainly hadn’t been without fault.

  Which brought him back to his current situation. Even though he’d expected tonight to be a trap, a way to lure him to a specific location by whoever sent him the note, he’d come all the way from New York.

  But there was no one here
but the motley group in front of him.

  Who had sent the email? And why?

  The watered-down version of the great Vlad laughed and ran his hands lovingly over the faces of his intended victims. The guy was getting off on the adoration as well as the hint of fear that permeated the space.

  It was ironic that he’d chosen an abandoned church to commit this atrocity. The building was small but well-built, a testament to the love and attention that had gone into creating it. There were too many of these buildings tucked away in rural America, places that time had forgotten as communities shrank or were abandoned altogether because the search for work led people to larger centers.

  It was sad, but it was the way of life.

  While he’d been lost in thought, Vlad had pulled his first volunteer forward. He supposed he should do something to stop it, but these folks were not only willing, they were eager to offer their lives for the promise of immortality without fully understanding what it was they were giving up.

  The air stirred in the doorway. Asher melted deeper into the shadows and went completely still. A silent figure stealthily crept into the space, moving along the opposite wall.

  Whoever it was, they were human, not another paranormal.

  Curious, he followed the newcomer. He doubted the crowd in front would notice them if they ran through the place naked.

  Everyone in the room focused on Vlad as he sucked the blood from his first victim.

  It took more than being bitten to become one of the undead. He had to share his blood back.

  Call me crazy but I don’t think Vlad is a sharing kind of guy.

  The newcomer stepped into the light. “Vampire.” The melodic voice carried easily through the building. The hood of a long, leather duster was shoved back to reveal a tall, stunning woman with a deadly crossbow held easily in her hands.

  Asher’s heart skipped a beat. Blood pounded through his veins, hot and thick. Confident and deadly was always a huge turn-on. This woman was both those things and more.

  As soon as Vlad turned toward her, she fired. A steel bolt whistled through the air, speeding toward the intended target—the vampire’s heart. At the last second, Vlad yanked the person he was holding upright, using them as a shield. The bolt pierced the man’s spine.

  “Shit,” she muttered and released the crossbow. It was secured over her shoulder by a leather strap so it fell to her side. Reaching behind her, she pulled a short sword from a sheath on her back. “Come and face me, you coward,” she ordered.

  Her fearlessness was captivating. Who was this woman?

  No way could he allow anything to happen to this delectable creature.

  Several people screamed, shaking the rest of them out of their stupor and causing a stampede. They shoved their way to the exit, seemingly more afraid of the hunter than the vampire.

  Because that’s what she was—a vampire hunter.

  He’d crossed paths with many of them over the years. Some were fanatical, slaying paranormal and human alike, without discrimination. A small few had good intentions, confirming their prey was legitimate before they struck. He’d stayed out of their way.

  It wasn’t his fight.

  Blood wafted on the air as the last of the intended victims fled, not realizing the deadliest predator in the room was right beside them. But they were safe from him. He didn’t prey on innocents or idiots, and all his attention was on the woman holding the sword. It was obvious she’d had training and practice.

  “I’ll drink you dry and bathe in your blood.”

  “Promises, promises,” she mocked. “And kinda hard to do both. You’ll have to pick one.”

  Her taunts brought a smile to Asher’s face. She was smart. Most vampires, especially the younger ones, were arrogant. They believed themselves to be superior to everyone. It was as though they forgot they’d once been human.

  Vlad sprang forward, flying through the air with ease, claws extended, sharp teeth flashing. At the last possible second, the hunter dropped and rolled, shoving the blade upward. The creature screamed as the sword pierced his stomach.

  Blood spilled from the wound before it sealed shut.

  She was on her feet and already moving toward her target.

  Impressive. Even though she looked to be in her late twenties, she was a seasoned fighter. The blade flashed through the air. Vlad moved faster than the human eye could see, but somehow, she anticipated where he was going to be. She cut him again and again.

  It was utterly fascinating.

  There was no way she could destroy Vlad like that. Those small wounds wouldn’t even weaken him.

  Yet he didn’t interfere. There was still the matter of the email from the unknown sender. Was it her?

  She breathed heavily. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but there was no give in her. In a bold move, she tossed her sword to her left hand and brought the crossbow up with her right, firing before the weapon was steady. This time, the bolt hit the intended target.

  Vlad screeched—in pain and outrage—as the metal rod struck his chest. Too bad it was just a fraction too far to the right. The heart had to be obliterated for a vamp to die. This would just piss him off. And there was nothing more dangerous than a wounded or cornered vampire.

  Blood seeping from his chest, Vlad yanked the bolt out, shrieking in agony. She had nicked the heart. It would take time and require blood to regenerate.

  Breathing heavily, blood and saliva dripping from his teeth, Vlad drew back his arm and threw the deadly bolt directly at the woman.

  Asher flung himself forward, arm extended, and snatched the bolt out of the air just before it would have reached her. If she’d still been there. Once again, she’d proven she was better than any hunter he’d ever encountered and was currently standing several feet away.

  Both hunter and vampire were staring at him.

  He grinned and tossed the bolt back to her. “You may need this.”

  She caught it in midair, reloaded, and fired all in one motion. This time she hit her target dead-on. He stared down at his chest, as though shocked to find the metal stake piercing his heart.

  “I didn’t miss this time, bloodsucker.” She stalked toward him with sword drawn. Vlad fell to his knees and stared at Asher, likely sensing what he was.

  “Don’t look at me. You brought this on yourself.” Vampires were usually very careful with their blood hosts and very discreet. Attention wasn’t good for any of them. This creature had broken all the rules and would have eventually been sanctioned by the Council.

  On a mighty yell, the hunter raised the sword and swung. Vlad’s head fell to the floor and rolled toward him. Asher stopped it with his foot.

  “Good swing,” he told her.

  …

  Jo Radcliffe was dirty, sweaty, and utterly exhausted. It had been a long hunt, but it was finally over. Vlad had left a swath of death across rural Kentucky and Tennessee. This was to be his biggest mass slaying yet. He’d worked in small groups of three or four until now.

  All she wanted to do was go back to her truck, find a motel, shower, and sleep.

  But that wasn’t going to happen just yet. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded of the tall, lean man who was still mostly in the shadows. Whoever he was, he was dangerous, maybe even more so than the creature she’d just beheaded. He’d come out of nowhere and snatched the crossbow bolt out of the air like it hadn’t even been moving.

  A shiver raced down her spine.

  Dressed all in black, he blended with the dark. She hadn’t known he was there until he’d deliberately come forward. And she always had total situational awareness. It was a matter of survival.

  Her profession had a very high mortality rate.

  A nudge of his foot sent the vampire’s head rolling back toward the body. The undead would need to be burned if he didn’t start disintegrating s
oon, but she was keeping her distance from the man in black.

  “Asher.” He gave her a half bow. “And you are?”

  A quick shake of her head. “You don’t need to know.”

  “That hardly seems fair considering I saved your life.”

  “It didn’t need saving,” she asserted. “I’d already moved.”

  “True,” Asher conceded. “You’re fast, but I didn’t know that. I should get points for the attempt.” He sauntered out of the dark and fully into the candlelight. The flames flickered over his face, exposing a strong jaw, straight nose, and high forehead. His blond hair was pulled back in a short tail at his nape. His skin was olive toned or tanned, hard to say. Piercing brown eyes stared at her.

  Good looking was much too tame. Handsome didn’t fit, either. There was something dangerous and predatory lurking beneath the surface. Primal. Compelling. Yeah, that was it.

  It was time for her to leave.

  “While I appreciate the assist, I’ve got this.” She jerked her head toward the door, hoping he’d take the hint.

  A ghost of a smile flickered on his full lips before it disappeared. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”

  “Great,” she muttered.

  His laugh slid down her spine, a whisper of heat. Her nipples puckered and rubbed against her bra. Uh. No. The last thing she needed was some kind of fatal attraction. Because he was one of two things—a fellow hunter or another vampire. Neither of which were good for her.

  “Come now, I’ll help you clean up this mess. Then we can get a cup of coffee somewhere, maybe talk.”

  “It’s almost one in the morning. Nothing around here is open.” God, she was tired. She just wanted to fry this vampire and leave. Usually they disintegrated fairly quickly. This one was taking his sweet time. He either wasn’t truly dead yet or he was very young. The older they were, the quicker they turned to ash.

  Ash.

  “Your name is Asher?”

  He inclined his head. “At your service.”

  She ignored the way her insides heated. Paid no attention to how deep his voice was or how it stroked over her skin like silk.