Stigmata
Twisted Eventide - 9
L.M. Adams
Contents
Also by L.M. Adams
Quote
Prologue
Note to Readers
Act 1 – The Wedding of the Damned
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
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Act 2 – Return of the God-King
God/Goddess Names
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Act 3 – Rise of the Blood Moon
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Epilogue - 1
Epilogue - 2
Epilogue - 3
Epilogue - 4
Author Note
About the Author
Also by L.M. Adams
Twisted Eventide– Snow Covered Moon
Twisted Eventide – Yuletide Crimson
Twisted Eventide – Hunted Nightmare: Descension
Twisted Eventide – Hunted Nightmare: Ascension
Twisted Eventide – Murder of Crows
Twisted Eventide – Harper Files
Echoes of Time – Thread of Life
Sin Eater – Fall of the Faithful
Twisted Eventide – Bad
Twisted Eventide – Good
Echoes of Time – Absence of Time
Twisted Eventide – Sacred Bones
Twisted Eventide – Moon Rise
Twisted Eventide – Touch
Twisted Eventide – Monster
Twisted Eventide – Finding Honor
Twisted Eventide – Cursed
Twisted Eventide – Stigmata
Perhaps the idiom is true, home is where the heart is, and my heart has always been found in the eyes of Jaevia and Capaneus.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.
Novel contains extreme sexual horror and other content not suitable for persons sensitive to trauma fiction. Content not suitable for those under 18.
Edited by: Jenifer Dyer, jmarieediting@gmail.com
The ache for home lives in all of us…
Prologue
Two monsters sit in a room together… a room in an old stone turret, in an old castle, on an old land. A fire in the hearth does little to warm the air. It’s cold, deathly cold, and neither can be sure which of them is the cause of the unnatural chill – both of their hearts are little more than grit frozen over.
The weather outside is as hellish as the souls they claim to have. Cold rain pelts the earth unforgivingly, lighting and thunder cracking the heavens apart in retribution for such a meeting, between such men, at such a time.
They sit in two high-backed matching chairs and stare at the flame, clear glasses with dark liquid gripped in their hands.
The monster with the blue eyes takes a drink from his glass, hoping the bloodwine will warm him. “What brings you to my castle?”
“
I have a task for you.” The monster with the bleeding wound smiles.
“I did as you asked,” the monster with the blue eyes hisses. “I corrupted him.”
“So you have,” the monster with the bleeding wound nods.
“Then our agreement is done.”
“Our agreement is done when I say it is done,” the monster with the bleeding wound says darkly. For when he claims a soul, he claims it to keep.
He would not be here if he was not desperate. He’s tried every magic known to him, but his shell refuses to heal. He was cut by the Dagger of Kris – it was designed to end a god’s life.
The only recourse left to him is to find a new shell, to ascend into a new incarnation. He knew at some point he would have to. Human flesh has its limits after all; but with the sunstone still active, transferring his spirit and melding it to a new scion does not come without some risk.
Besides, he’s become accustomed to this body, he’s had it for eons.
Yet he knows a simple truth, when a creature refuses to change, to evolve – it dies. It becomes a victim of time and crumbles under the weight of it – nothing lasts forever.
He looks at his companion for the evening and is reminded of that truth.
“Come now Evzen, it will be like old times,” the monster with the bleeding wound sets down his glass of bloodwine and stands, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
Much like the first time, his prey’s heart speeds with trepidation, fear… lust, “You have not visited my chambers in a hundred years, and now you think to come here and…”
The slap across Evzen’s face is defining and sharp. The glass of bloodwine slips from his fingers, the sound of it shattering on the cold stone floor echoes up into the rafters.
“Do not forget your place,” the monster with the bleeding wound hisses.
The fear in the room becomes heady, perhaps Evzen believed a hurt monster was a safe monster – but that is when a wild thing is at its most dangerous.
Evzen gets up from the chair and kneels down before his master as he did that one time, that one night, over a hundred years ago to beg the gods of old to give him a son… he should have been more specific with his request.
“That’s better,” the monster with the bleeding wound whispers as he reaches for his pants.
Note to Readers
Stigmata takes place after events in the Twisted Eventide novella: Cursed.
Act 1 – The Wedding of the Damned
1
Jaevia
The earth is soft, makes for good digging. I thought the cold would never leave the earth, leave my heart. But it has, and the smell of spring is in the air. The birds are returning and bringing with them the life of the season.
I strike the ground with my shovel again, grunting with the effort. We’re a few feet down now and this deep the earth still sits a bit frozen from the chill of the winter.
The shovel now weighed down by a fresh mound of earth is heavy as I lift it and dump the muted brown soil into the waiting wheelbarrow. I’m sure Tabari could come up with some magical spell that would just displace the dirt and rock. But I want to do this the hard way, I want to feel the pleasure of a task done with nothing but my bare hands.
“Water!” I call out and drive my shovel into the ground to stand straight up. I take off my work gloves and give my aching body a break.
The hole has to be about six feet deep now. It’s not as wide or as long as it needs to be, but we’ll get it there. Hopefully, before the wedding.
Kiah comes over with a bottled water handing it to me. He’s the youngest of the berserker boys, but lately, he’s been filling out more with muscle, losing some of that softness in his features.
I give him a smile. “Thanks.” I crack open the top and guzzle down a good portion of the cooling water.
The heat of the spring isn’t here in truth yet but digging holes is back breaking work and I’m sweating like a pig without a mud pit.
I take a moment to really see Kiah, he’s dressed in a pair of old jeans, a white tank top that’s got a good bit of dirt on it now. He’s flush with his own efforts from helping me dig. But most importantly, his aura looks clean, healthy… happy.
“Did you visit your Pax?”
He looks away quickly, lowering his eyes. “Yes, my Queen.” He murmurs low.
Getting them to stop calling me Queen wasn’t going to happen, so I just let it be. But I’m most definitely not queen of anything. Peter made sure of that.
Not to say I’m running away from my problems, I just stopped. I stopped trying to fight for a people that don’t want me. I didn’t give up, I just gave in. Perhaps I should thank Peter. His little stunt with releasing the recordings of my evil deeds freed me from so much that was weighing me down.
Bishop actually took down the voting system, I didn’t protest. He made an announcement that until they are able to ‘investigate’ me and the people of Ra’suá, it wouldn’t be appropriate to hold a vote.
I don’t care, good luck to all of those fuckers. The world is its own, they can make their own choices and I don’t need to be a part of that. I can live a happy life away from it all, and so I’ve decided to do just that. For the first time in a long time, my life is my own.
The next thing on my to-do list? Get this damn hole dug.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “You look good, Kiah, healthy.”
“Thank… thank you, my Queen.” He seems shocked at the kind words coming from me.
Another thing people will just have to grow accustomed to. I know I could be a bitch; I know how to kick a dog when it’s down. But now… now… there’s no deep-seated resentment filling me. There is nothing but peace and the possibility of what my life can be.
I hand him the bottle back. “Got a few more hours in you?”
He nods quickly. “Of course, my Queen.”
“Any chance I can get you to call me Jae?”
He cracks a real smile. “Not yet, my Queen.”
“We’ll try again tomorrow then?”
“We’ll try again tomorrow.” He chuckles a bit, it’s our thing now. We have a thing, an inside joke. How simple and small that is, but how it warms my heart.
“Get back to work, I’d like to get another foot down before…”
“What in Ra’s name have you all done?!”
“… before Lucien and Jack get back.” I mumble before turning and waving my arm wildly so Luey can find me in the dirt.
“Luey!” I call out and a moment later he’s standing at the edge of my nice new hole, hands on his hips, a fierce frown painted on his face.
Even with the frown Luey is a gorgeous man. Dark skin with a trimmed beard and mustache, long locs hanging down his back. Muscular, tall… oozing with primal heat and domination.
“What’s the meaning of this, Wench? Is it a trap?” He almost sounds hopeful.
I chuckle. “No, it’s your wedding present.”
He looks up and down the length of my hole, a puzzled look on his face.
“Thank you?” He finally settles on the safest bet to not hurt my feelings.
I grin, “You’re welcome.”
“Are you planning on killing me?”
I laugh again, “No it’s not a grave.” I turn around peering at my work. “But it would be the perfect size for a body or two.” I do have to admit.
Lucien turns his head away. “Capaneus, she means to kill us for our wedding present.”
I stand on my tiptoes so I can see over the edge of the ditch. Jack is talking quietly to Carter. Carter is the second in command of my guard and right now he’s agitated trying to explain to Jack why he let me dig a hole in the ground.