Crimson Horizon (Blood of the Sea Book 1)

  Crimson Horizon

  Blood of the Sea, Book One

  Heather Renee

  Lela Grayce

  Crimson Horizon © Copyright 2018 by Heather Renee and Lela Grayce

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

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

  For more information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book, email heatherreneeauthor@yahoo.com or lela.grayce.author@gmail.com.

  ISBN: 978-1729182673

  Editing: Jamie from Holmes Edits and Stephany Wallace

  Cover: Covers by Juan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Connect with the Authors

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Also by Heather Renee

  Also by Lela Grayce

  Dedication

  Heather:

  Lela, don’t forget you’re my wench.

  XOXO,

  Your Tyrant

  Lela:

  To Chris Hemsworth

  I’m flattered and I think you’re a great guy, but I’m happily married. I think we should just remain friends.

  Thank you for understanding.

  PS: I’m sorry, Heather. I never meant for you to find out this way.

  Chapter One

  My tired gaze roamed the walls as I sat at our kitchen table, pondering how my life had become so controlled and predictable. Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the animals, and help Aunt May prepare the day’s food before doing the washing and mending. Then, we’d wait for Uncle David to arrive home and serve him after his hard day’s work out in the fields.

  There had to be more to life. I craved more, but every time I thought I was making progress in becoming my own person, my uncle was sure to show me that it was only a dream I needed to throw away. Women weren’t supposed to be independent, and he was quick to remind me of that anytime he felt the need.

  I was not a servant, but I sure as hell felt like one. Even more so the day my uncle announced he had made a business deal with Pierce Ambrose.

  Pierce was one of the wealthiest men on our small island. He owned a plantation a few miles from our farm, and a decent amount of the businesses in Port Victory—all for which he had never done a hard day of work in his life. It had all been handed to him on a silver platter when his parents died under suspicious circumstances a couple of years ago.

  Now, I was being offered to him by my aunt and uncle, so they could save their failing farm.

  I tried not to resent them. After all, they had taken me in when I was orphaned at the young age of five, but I was an adult now. Nineteen years old, meaning I didn’t have to follow through with the arranged marriage. Running away and trying to figure out another path for myself was an option, but as I moved my stare from the wall to Aunt May, I couldn’t help feeling guilty when I thought of leaving. She had stepped in as a mother for me when she didn’t have to, leaving me to feel forever in her debt.

  Her once-vibrant blonde hair was now iced in silver, and her sage green eyes that held so much wisdom were surrounded by soft wrinkles. She tried to advocate for me—to make Uncle David see reason—but when he laid it all out there, saying it was my happiness or the farm and their livelihood, there hadn’t been much room for argument.

  “Lavinia, dear,” Aunt May cooed. “You’ve hardly touched your food. Are you well?”

  My dark hair swayed as I nodded. “Just feeling tired today.”

  Uncle David grunted. “You don’t know what it means to be tired, child. You’re lucky Pierce wants you, or you’d be in the fields with me each morning, instead of helping in the house.”

  He never minced words, so I knew exactly where I stood with Uncle David. I was the child he never wanted. He had wanted sons to leave his land to one day, not a daughter with whom he didn’t even share the same blood. Aunt May was my mother’s sister, which was how I ended up with them after my parents’ passing.

  He couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I was an obligation. To be honest, he was lucky my aunt’s heart was pure gold or I’d have left long ago.

  Pushing my food around the plate, I ignored his comment. I knew to pick my battles with him. Today was not one of those days. Aunt May began clearing plates. I moved to help her, but she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  “Why don’t you go wash up for bed?” she suggested.

  My gaze shifted to Uncle David to make sure he wasn’t going to argue her suggestion, but he was already making his way to his favorite chair in the sitting room, with a stiff drink in his hand. It was probably best if I was out of sight, anyway. A storm was brewing inside him; I could sense it coming, and I would try to avoid it at all costs.

  I walked out of the kitchen and down the small hallway. Their bedroom was on the right side, and on the left was my room, which was once a large food pantry. It barely held a single bed and a small shelf for my personal items, with no window to let in natural light. It was my own personal dungeon.

  My back slid against the wall as I made my way to the shelf to grab my sleep gown and brush before heading to the washroom. It was close to the same size as my bedroom, and the only room in the house Uncle David hadn’t skimped on when he built their home twenty years ago. Even though he worked in the dirt all day, he always made sure he appeared as if he came from luxury.

  Whenever he left the farm for town, he would wear only his finest clothes and wash as if he hadn’t stepped foot in a field for years. When he was cleaned up, his sun-stained skin made his blue eyes almost sparkle, giving a false sense of friendliness I knew wasn’t there.

  I could see how my sweet Aunt May had fallen for him. He was a smooth talker, and very persuasive, which was how I ended up betrothed to Pierce.

  Setting my items on the counter in the washroom, I shuddered at the memory of that day.

  Uncle David had brought home a handmade, one-of-a-kind dress just for me. I had been so enthralled with the soft, cream-colored material that I missed the gleeful glint in his eyes.

  We went to town for the first time as a family, so I thought maybe the old man had begun to soften his heart toward me, but when he waltzed me into Pierce’s general store, my heart shattered.

  “David, where have you been keeping this gem hidden?” Pierce had asked as they shook hands.

  Pierce was a handsome man, I couldn’t deny that, all broad shoulders and dreamy blue eyes, with dark cropped hair. But his smile… there was something sinister about it. It wasn’t warm or welcoming in any way.

  His cold hand wrapped around mine, before bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “I’m Pierce, and whom might you be?”

  I politely pulled my hand back. “Lavinia Maycott.”

  He took a perusing gaze at my body, then turned back to Uncle
David. “Shall we discuss business?”

  That had been all I needed to know then. I had been sold like a harlot. The only kindness I had been given was that Pierce promised to court me and wait the suitable time before claiming me.

  Of course, that had been for his benefit, not mine. He didn’t want to appear improper by acquiring a new wife without following the standard etiquette for our community. A man needed to court a woman for one year’s time before he was allowed to claim her. It was one of the few rights we had as women.

  Pulling myself out of the memory, I shook my head and resumed getting ready for bed, trying to forget that I only had two months left before the year ended. Two months of limited freedom. I figured it was better than nothing, but the fear still filled me.

  My hand trembled as I brushed my thick ebony hair. There wasn’t much I was afraid of, but being tied to Pierce, knowing there was no way to run from him, frightened me more than I liked to admit. My deep hazel eyes stared back at me from the glass. A small voice in my head said to stop being a ninny. Aunt May would be fine if I ran. I shouldn’t burden myself with other people’s problems, or others with mine.

  But that voice hadn’t won.

  I shut it down as quickly as it came. I would not abandon my only living family. Even if Uncle David deserved it, Aunt May did not.

  I came out of the bathroom to hear snoring drifting in from the living room. Silently, I made my way back to the kitchen to check on Aunt May.

  She was just finishing up the dishes when I walked in, but I knew she wouldn’t sleep even when she was done. The sweet woman didn’t know what rest meant. She constantly kept herself busy, finding anything and everything that needed to be done, usually only sleeping a few hours each night. Part of me believed it was her way of surviving being married to Uncle David.

  A bright smile graced her face when she saw me. “Off to bed now, dear?”

  I nodded. “As you should be, too.”

  “I’ll be along shortly.” She reached for me, pulling me into a hug. “Sleep well. We have to travel to town tomorrow.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Was it already Thursday? How had I not realized? Part of the courtship with Pierce required me to visit town every Friday, so he could parade me around. It was sickening. I was a trophy for him and nothing more.

  I was partly thankful for that, because he had been so concerned with his public appearance that I had yet to be forced to spend any time alone with him. That wouldn’t happen until we were officially married, but time was not going slowly enough for me.

  He certainly didn’t mind placing his hands where they didn’t belong when we were in company, though. I trembled at the thought of what he would do when we were alone. One day I would have to face that, but tomorrow was not that day.

  Plastering a smile on my face, I pulled away from Aunt May. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I headed for my room, but she tugged on my hand, causing me to turn back.

  “You know I wouldn’t allow this if I had any other choice, right? I love you, and I hate to see you unhappy.” Worry lines creased her forehead as she frowned at me.

  “I do, Aunt May. Try not to stress. Everything will be just fine.”

  Nodding, she let go. I must not have been doing as good of a job at hiding my angst from her as I thought. I resolved to be stronger for the both of us.

  Laying in my bed, I pulled the wool blanket over my shoulders. My body shook, but I couldn’t decipher if it was from the cold or my dread for the next day.

  Sometime later that night, or it might have been early morning, I woke to the sound of screaming. My door was shut, but I could hear the cries of Aunt May. I rubbed my tired eyes, adrenaline starting to seep in as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

  “Take whatever you want!” Aunt May yelled. “Take the farm. We don’t care. Just let us leave.”

  I moved off the bed, standing at the door to listen better.

  “The farm ain’t what we want,” a man’s voice purred. It was enticing and threatening at the same time. “Ye know what we came here for. Now be a good woman an’ stay still, before I knock ye out like yer ol’ mate over there.”

  I sucked in a breath. We were under attack, but I had no idea why or who these men were. I didn’t recognize their odd accents, so I knew they weren’t from any of the islands near us. We had very little of value, so I didn’t understand what they wanted, but I sure as hell wanted to find out.

  Cracking the door open, I peered down the hallway. For once, I was grateful for our small home. The kitchen and a portion of the living room were visible from where I stood. Uncle David was sprawled on the floor, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead.

  Aunt May was sitting in a chair, as the unknown man towered over her small frame. He wore dirty trousers, a linen shirt that opened at the collar, and a black bandana around his head that covered ratted hair.

  His hands gripped her shoulders. “Thar be any workers on ye farm?”

  She shook her head rapidly.

  “Don’t lie t’ me, wench. It will make yer death that much worse.”

  Aunt May held her ground, but she made a grave mistake. Her eyes darted toward my door.

  I held my breath. It was dark. There was no way they could see me, but still, my heart beat faster as I waited to see if our attacker had seen her glance as I had.

  He followed her gaze but didn’t move. “What ye hidin’, human?” he snarled, digging his nails into her arm, drawing blood as he yanked her up. “Damn it. Look what ye made me do!”

  Lowering his head, he sniffed her arm. “I’m tryin’ to be patient. Tryin’ to be civil about this, but yer makin’ it increasingly difficult fer me.” His tongue darted out as he ran his mouth down her arm, lapping up the blood from the wounds. “Blood be just like wine, it gets better wit’ age,” he hummed greedily.

  “Come on, Dom,” another male voice shouted from the living room, where I couldn’t see. “Why we still here? Let’s drain ‘em or bring ‘em back as slaves. I didn’t see th’ lass or anyone else down by th’ barn, and we needs the ships t’ be at sea by dawn.”

  Dom tsked. “There be another here. Did ye check the bedrooms?”

  Before the other intruder could respond, Aunt May’s eyes widened in fear and she began fighting back. I silently begged her to stop. I had a small sliver of hope that if we cooperated with the pillagers, they’d let us live.

  “Farrg this.” Without breaking a sweat, Dom snapped Aunt May’s neck and sank his teeth into her skin.

  It took several breaths for my mind to comprehend what I was seeing. I’d heard fables of blood drinkers when I was young, but I had never believed in them. I couldn’t even remember what they were called, but I knew they were ruthless and dangerous. My miniscule hope at making it out of the house alive had diminished completely.

  “If ye get her for yer meal, then I get the bloke,” the other one whined.

  The sickening sounds as they fed on my family reached me, turning my stomach, and I closed my door, cursing my room with no windows to make an escape.

  I was trapped.

  Yet, I still had two options. I could hide beneath my bed in hopes they didn’t find me, or I could attempt to sneak from the room while they were distracted and make a run for the door. It only took two seconds for me to decide I wasn’t a coward. If I was going to die, I would at least die trying to survive. I refused to cower, awaiting my death.

  Reaching for the door, I laid my hand on it, hesitating only a moment before opening. I braced myself, waiting for the attack, but it didn’t come right away. I heard an inhale before a man, or whatever he was, stepped into the room. The one called Dom stood before me. His head tilted to the side, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth down to his chin.

  “How did I…” he muttered, seeming confused. “Doesn’t matter now. You be comin’ with us, or ye get to be dessert. Yer choice.”

  His grin showcased the fangs I
had heard about, but instead of being afraid, I acted on instinct.

  I wanted to live.

  Reaching back for my shelf and appreciating my small quarters for the first time ever, I grabbed whatever my hand found first. It was only my old hairbrush, but it would have to do.

  Dom watched me like I was nothing more than a wild animal that made him curious. I charged him, all the while losing confidence, knowing it was going to be impossible to get around him, but not willing to roll over and die just yet. I jammed the brush into his stomach, hoping to at least get a grunt out of him, but instead the brush broke in half, cutting my hand in the process.

  “Ye be a scrappy one. Maybe I shall keep ye as me pet instead o’ takin’ ye back,” he said, his voice making me shiver.

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  I dropped the broken piece of the brush as his hand snaked out to grab mine, bringing it to his face. Just as he had done with Aunt May, he placed his mouth over my wound. I tugged on my arm, trying to wrench it from him, but his grip was unyielding.

  What I hadn’t expected was the sucking sensation, and how, instead of feeling afraid, I felt alive for the first time since I was a child. Since before my parents died.

  He tossed my hand away with a strange look. “What did they feed ye? Ne'er mind, I ain’t really care. I be full anyway.” His head turned toward the door. “Craig! I found her, but ye can have the lass. She ain't worth the trouble of bringin’ back.”

  Dom pushed me on the bed and shook his head. “Ye were almost the perfect pet. Such a waste.”

  He walked out of the room as his cohort came in, licking his lips. He was equally as grungy as Dom, even missing a tooth as his grinned at me. My body trembled at the thought of his filthy hands touching me.