Take Read online

  Take

  Copyright © 2015 by Nashoda Rose

  Toronto, Canada

  ISBN: 978–0-9937023–7-2

  Copyright © 2014 Cover by Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs

  Editing by Hot Tree Editing

  Content Edited by Kristin Anders, The Romantic Editor

  Formatting by Champagne Formats

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, brands, and artists mentioned in the novel Take are the property of the respective owners and copyright holders.

  Warning: This book contains offensive language, violence, disturbing situations and sexual content. Mature audiences only. 18+

  dedication

  Books by Nashoda Rose

  Glossary of Terms (alphabetical order)

  him

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  author's note

  acknowledgments

  Perfect Chaos

  about the author

  Books by Nashoda Rose

  Tear Asunder series

  With You

  Torn from You

  Overwhelmed by You

  Shattered by You (coming 2015)

  Unyielding Series

  Perfect Chaos

  Perfect Ruin (Date TBA)

  Perfect Rage (Date TBA)

  Scars of the Wraiths

  Take

  http://www.nashodarose.com/

  Glossary of Terms (alphabetical order)

  Center World Other (CWO): For thousands of years, numerous organisms that survived the Ice Age remained hidden until a hundred years ago when they emerged to the Earth’s surface in the form of insects. Intelligent. Can inhabit a recently deceased human body, possessing them body and soul. Transformation occurs within seven days, depending on the species. Immune to Wraiths’ powers. Protected by heat and minerals from the Earth’s core.

  Deaconry, the: Assembly comprised of four Wraiths, two Scars, and one witch. Decide laws and punishments for all who live under the Goddess Azzurra.

  Deep Sleep (DS): A state of sleep which one can be contained for short periods.

  Grits (CWO): Derived from the common cockroach. Odorless. Difficult to track. Able to heal within seconds. Means of destruction: decapitation.

  Assumes the bodies of attractive males with a strong presence. Will lure women to bed with the intent of siphoning the air from their lungs to live longer in their human states.

  Goddess Azzurra: Goddess of the realm. Created the Scars and Wraiths. Also is the Goddess of Witches.

  Ink: A tattoo on a Scar that can be called to life.

  Lilac (CWO): Lepidoptera order of insects. Assume the bodies of females. Known to be strikingly beautiful to lure their targets. Their skin emits a powdered substance that smells of lilacs. Able to trap prey in webbing. Victims are stored in cocoons which are later used as sustenance.

  Long Necks (CWO): Derived from the common beetle. Known as followers. Have unusually long necks. Characterized by bad acne, substantial bulk, and foul odors compared to rotten garbage.

  Maite: Husband or wife of a Scar

  Pests (CWO): Derived from the common mosquito. Spawn from swamp, or marsh-like areas near gravesites. Emit a buzzing only Sounders can detect. Possess excellent eyesight. Skin emits an itching agent.

  Realm, the: An otherworldly dominion where the Wraiths reside and Deaconry convenes.

  Rest: A coma-like state of mind a Scar is placed when punished. Length of rest determined by the Deaconry.

  Scars: Immortal warriors with capabilities derived from the senses: Trackers, Sounders, Healers, Tasters, Visionaries, and the rare Reflectors.

  Evolved in 1610 in Zugarramurdi, Spain during the Spanish Inquisition. In order to combat the devastation of the masses, five witches swore fealty to the Goddess Azzurra. In exchange, she granted them immortality, unique abilities of the senses, and an Ink that could be called forth for protection.

  Scar Healers: Females with the capability to heal other Scars and humans. In rare instances, capable of healing animals and other entities. Able to envision the injury and heal the wound from the inside out. Experiences the pain of the injury.

  Scar Reflectors: Possess a strong empathy toward emotions. Can alter emotions of others.’ Characterized with stronger telepathic abilities.

  Scar Sounders: Able to detect high frequencies from long distances.

  Scar Tasters: Able to detect others’ emotion by a distinct change in molecules in the air which affects taste.

  Scar Trackers: Posses the ability to track shed skin cells.

  Scar Visionaries: Able to see through certain objects. Some are able to read in hyper-speed or burn through objects.

  Sublymns: Children living in the Realm who have died horrible deaths on Earth.

  Talde: Group of Scars, similar to a covenant.

  Taldeburu: Leader of a Talde of Scars.

  Tracing: Ability to teleport to a past location.

  Wraiths: Four witches, who had been burned at the stake, were offered a reprieve by the Goddess Azzurra. Each spirit was resurrected as a Wraith with the power of one of the four elements—Earth, Water, Fire, and Air.

  Live in the Realm, but may walk the Earth for short periods of time.

  I COLLAPSED THE MOMENT THE chains released my wrists from the overhanging branch and my knees hit hard on the dry, unforgiving soil. Hunched over, I took several deep, ragged breaths as the blood rushed back into my arms.

  The heavy chains around my shoulder and chest slowly unraveled and I knew it was too late for my Ink . . . I felt the emptiness. The engraved tattoo was still there, but what lived within was dead. Starved. Broken. Trapped for days beneath the chains, unable to release from my body with my call. It was the first part of a Scar that died when close to death.

  My brother, Holden, lightly touched my arm and I jerked away. “Wasp, let me—”

  I held up my hand, while keeping my head down, eyes closed. “Don’t. Fuckin.’ Touch. Me.”

  The image of her broken body tossed in the shallow grave like a rotten piece of meat kept repeating and cracked the fragile sane pieces I had left in me. I hadn’t been strong enough to fight them.

  Weak.

  Pathetic.

  When my limbs were functional again, I crawled toward the spot they’d buried her and stared at the disturbed soil. My palms flat on the ground, pressed into the earth. Emotions hit me like bolts of lightning. She couldn’t be gone. I couldn’t have done this.

  I snapped as a wild frenzy took hold and I curled my hands into the soil and started digging.

  I clawed.

  Scraped.

  Tore at it and tiny granules shoved up under my fingernails.

  It was desperation as my sanity crumbled into fragments of the man I used to be.

  Find her.

  I had to find her.

  Protect her. I hadn’t protected her.

  The ice-cold wind clutched at my naked skin, but I barely noticed. I was n
umb to the elements after hanging by my wrists for what felt like weeks. The days had been the worst as the sun beat down on me, a carcass dangling in the heat.

  Then the nights came and the relief from the sun didn’t last long. I shook so violently from the cold that the chains rattled constantly. But I’d suffer far worse if only I could get her back. Save her from them.

  Faster. I had to dig faster.

  They buried her here. I saw them. They had held my head up and forced me to watch as they tossed her limp lifeless body into the grave in front of me.

  “Help me, damn it.” I meant to yell the words, but my throat was so dry from lack of water it came out a scratched muffled sound.

  A hand came down on my shoulder and squeezed. “Wasp . . . Jasper.” The tone was barely audible, but being a Sounder, I could hear the snap of a twig or the flutter of a butterfly’s wings a mile away.

  Blocking out sounds was crucial to learn as a child or the chaos would drive a Scar Sounder insane. My hearing was ordinary except when I focused and used my unique ability.

  But the vampires made me so weak I couldn’t control the sounds. They hung me here, naked, fighting against the unbreakable chains, shouting until my throat was so inflamed it bled.

  They knew I’d hear everything they did to her before they killed her.

  They got off on hearing my screams. Her screams.

  But when they brought her to me . . .

  A sob caught in my throat and I dug harder. Faster. Soil flung into my face and I tasted the grit as some landed in my mouth.

  I heard the voices of Holden and his best friend, Guise, along with a couple others, around me, but their words were muffled as my mind reeled into the darkness of what I was scared to find. It was descending, the reality trying to leak into my insanity of what I thought I could do—save her.

  I did this.

  She was mine to save and I’d been too late. I’d told them what they wanted too late and they killed her anyway. If I’d told them sooner maybe . . .

  Unrelenting hands on my arms pulled me away. “No. Leave me the fuck alone.”

  I wildly fought against them, the roar in my chest pure agony. I kicked and punched, not knowing who I was hitting or fighting anymore, just that they were keeping me from getting to her. I heard a loud grunt and the grip on my right arm loosened. I yanked free then swung around and punched the other person holding me.

  My fist connected with his jaw and for a second after the impact, I hesitated as my vision cleared. Blood ran from the corner of his lip and it matched the tears that streaked his cheeks.

  My brother stared at me like I was a ghost, eyes wide and filled with grief. I caused that. I put that look in his eyes.

  “Jasper. She’s gone.”

  “No! A Healer can bring her back.” I knew it was crazy, that somewhere in me my words didn’t make sense, but it was as if I was gasping for air and the only way to breathe was to bring her back.

  “It’s too late. Jasper, look at me.”

  I shook my head back and forth, the soil that clung to my hair pitched in every direction. “No, a Healer . . . a powerful one . . . Lillian . . . Lillian can bring her back.” I scrambled toward the grave, but my legs buckled and I landed on my side. “She was ten. She was only ten and I killed her.” The words ripped from my throat in a haunted voice I didn’t recognize.

  I knew my brother and the Talde were watching, but they didn’t try to stop me this time as I dragged my broken body back to the grave and pulled at the soil again. I dug until the sun dropped and the moon rose. I couldn’t stop. I had to keep trying. But I was so weak I could barely move handfuls of soil.

  I finally collapsed onto my back and stared up at the starlit sky. The moment I stopped digging—there was a loss of who I’d been. And maybe that was why I tried for so long to get to her because I sensed as soon as I gave up and let the truth in . . . I’d never be the same man.

  The final pieces of me burned into ash then scattered into the sky—disintegrating. Disappearing.

  I stared up at the bright stars and they twinkled as if they were laughing at me.

  I closed my eyes. Then coldness descended and sank into my heart.

  “MOMMY, PLEASE.” I FELL TO my knees and pressed my hand on the gaping wound on her neck. Blood surrounded me and when I looked down at my shirt I was soaked in red. I moved in slow motion as I trailed my finger down my shirt through the warm, sticky substance—syrup. And I had breasts. I was older. But I was supposed to be only ten years old.

  I looked back at my mother and blood gushed through my fingers. Why didn’t the bleeding stop? My hands burned with my healing ability but it was all wrong. I didn’t heal her. I couldn’t because he took me away from her.

  Urgency ripped through me and I panicked. I had to heal my mom. I had to heal her. Now was my chance. My body burned as if I was in a furnace. God, why was it so hot?

  “Mommy, please. I can heal you. Don’t leave me.”

  My mom’s neck stretched out as she inhaled a gurgled breath. Then she spoke, but it was different than before. Her voice was clear and strong and she was smiling at me.

  I knew the words, every single one of them was etched in me. ”Mom, don’t talk.”

  But it was as if she didn’t hear me and the broken record repeated the words I’d never forget. “It’s too late for me, baby.”

  No. It wasn’t too late. This time I could heal her and then I’d heal the Talde and we’d all be okay.

  The record kept going. “Drake has an Ink that must never be healed. The Goddess Azzurra killed it.” She coughed up blood and it sprayed my face over and over again. It wouldn’t stop. God, stop. Please stop.

  I sobbed hysterically as I sat in a pool of her blood as she calmly spoke. “He is too powerful with his Ink. Drake doesn’t know about your other ability . . .” Her features melted together and then she burst into flames.

  Oh, God, Mom. Mom. No. I tried to get away, but I couldn’t move.

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it. It was so hot. I had to get away from the fire. “Never tell anyone, Breanna. It’s too dangerous. Never use that ability.”

  Suddenly, Drake was there, dragging me from her and out of the house. My mom. My Talde. They were all dead. He killed them.

  I didn’t want to go. I never had the chance to save them.

  I kicked and struggled, but my body refused to obey my commands as it lay limp in his grasp. Why wasn’t I moving? I tried screaming, but no words emerged.

  His voice cut through the images and I was in complete darkness except for the echoing sound of his deep voice. “Shall we watch your mother burn?”

  I jerked awake so abruptly, my head hit the wall. I was on the floor in the corner of the room, trembling and cold, yet sweat dripped down my brow. I hadn’t had this nightmare in a while, most of the time I dreamt of the six years I spent living with Drake.

  But this . . . I took a long, deep inhale . . . this was the worst one, the day I was taken. I hated this nightmare; my mom’s voice . . . the burning. Ten years ago and it was like it was yesterday.

  I crawled to my feet, using the wall to help gain my balance then went into the bathroom. I peeled off my damp pajamas, grabbed the plastic clip from the basket beside the sink and twirled my mouse-brown hair up in a knot and fastened it. Reaching into the shower, I turned on the taps, noticing my trembling hand. It had been four years since I was rescued and still the nightmares lived in me.

  It was Xamien and his Talde who found me in Drake’s basement with a chain on my ankle to keep me from escaping. Although, to this day, Xamien had no idea it was Drake’s home. Drake had been away and his vampire followers had been ‘looking after’ me.

  Drake made it a habit to travel places he’d never been so that the next time, he was able to Trace, teleport, there. He told me that one day there wouldn’t be a place in this world he hadn’t been before. And his reasoning was so there was never a place in the world I could escape that he wouldn�
��t find me. I’d become his private Healer and he was never letting me go.

  But I’d been free for four years now, living in Xamien’s pazo—his manor—in Spain. It was unlikely Drake had ever been here considering Xamien was a Taldeburu.

  Unfortunately, with my freedom came the nightmares as I began to thaw and crawl out of the darkness.

  I fought it.

  I wanted to remain numb and alone.

  Without questions. Without answers.

  I could hide who I was from everyone and bury the past beneath the rubble. I even told Xamien my name was Max. I wasn’t Breanna anymore and I never would be.

  Within this protective shell of numbness, I was strong and I’d fought hard to be this way, closed to the fear that woke me in the night. That was the only time it found me. The only time I had no control. I became a windmill in a storm, spinning out of control, my fear gusting through me unable to be stopped. But the detachment was fading. The light that had been snatched from me when I was only ten years old was struggling to find a way to repair.

  I didn’t want to repair. I couldn’t. Not if Drake was still alive.

  I touched the white gauze bandage on my neck and trailed my finger over it, the stickiness of one corner of the upturned tape catching my skin. I pushed it back down, ignoring the tenderness as I pressed harder than necessary.

  The hybrid vampire-witch Xamien had living in the attic had sunk her teeth into me yesterday and then picked me up, tossing me across the room as if I’d been a weightless plastic figurine. My body had slammed into the wall then crashed to the floor. I’d hit hard, leaving my side knitted with yellows and greens.

  The new wound on my neck was just another scar to add to my collection. Reminders of why it was safer locked away. Every burn. Every mark Drake scored into me. It was him tormenting me. Never letting me go.

  That was what he’d done to me. That was what woke me in the middle of the night screaming. He was the only thing I feared. Pain, death, torture . . . none of it frightened me anymore. But him and the power he had over me . . . he owned me and that fear I couldn’t bury because if he was alive, one day the monster would find me again.