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- Rachel M Raithby
The Beast Within
The Beast Within Read online
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2015 © Rachel M. Raithby
http://woodlandcreekseries.com
Cover by Rising Horse Creations
Formatted by JRA Stevens
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Acknowledgements
First I’d like to start off by thanking the awesome writers in the Woodland Creek group. This book was a little different for me. I wouldn’t normally sit down and plan a book, I usually just go with, which voice is shouting loudest in my head. It was good to push myself, and learn to write within set boundaries. Though I still hate rules!
A big thank you as always to my family. You know who you are. Without your support I’d have not been able to get this book finished on time.
And lastly to my readers. This year had been an emotionally roller-coaster for me, but your kind words, and love for my books has kept me going. So thank you.
Dedication
For Cole, Lilly, and Calean.
Keep smiling. Keep Dreaming. Never change.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Titles
For more maps and information, please visit the
Woodland Creek Website
http://woodlandcreekseries.com/
Two years previous
Smiling at the blonde sitting across from him, Aster searched for something to say. He actually liked this one. He’d been on more dates recently than he could remember in his pursuit to find the one female who’d hold his interest, or his beast’s interest. The Minotaur was becoming restless. Desperate in his search to find his female, the beast was already snarling in Aster’s mind, sure they were wasting their time. Every date had resulted in a one-night stand, with him promising to call and then never doing so. He was a dick, and he knew it, but Aster was a sexy dick, and all the women loved it…well, until he left.
“This place is nice.” She smiled, fiddling with her hair.
It wasn’t. The place was a dive, but they did a good burger and it was close to his apartment, for a handy exit to his bedroom.
He wasn’t entirely sure what made him call her. He’d never done this before. A part of him wondered if she was the one. Was this dumb, blonde waitress his fated female? I bloody hope not! Julia was good for a quick fix, and she wasn’t actually that stupid, but Aster knew the day he finally met his female would come. She’d crash into his life, be smart-mouthed and as strong-willed as him. She’d have to be that way, because Aster could only hide his true nature for so long. His Minotaur wasn’t civilized. He’d need someone with the will to push back, and the courage to face his beast.
His food was placed in front of him, and he took a bite out of his burger before Julia’s plate hit the table.
“Hungry?” She giggled.
“Hmm,” Aster mumbled around his mouthful. His Minotaur appetite was greater than a human’s.
He’d only made his way through half of his food when the bar door burst open. Gunfire resonated around the walls.
“You! Empty the till,” one masked gunman yelled, aiming his gun at the barman.
Standing frozen, the barman didn’t make a move, his eyes locked fearfully on the barrel of the gun.
“I said empty the till! The money, now.”
Stumbling forward, the barman fumbled for the till, but as his hands shook with terror, the gunman lost his temper and fired.
The first shot was the catalyst for chaos. Screams filled the bar as patrons fled and the three masked men fired at anyone who moved, while their partner leapt over the bar and took the money.
The ancient beast living inside Aster rose. His hands balled into fists as his body started its change. Muscles expanded and skin darkened as the Minotaur took control.
Julia shrieked opposite him. Panting through his rage, Aster forced the beast inside him down and reached for her. “It’s okay. Don’t move, I’ll protect you.”
Yet as his hand brushed hers, an ear piercing scream tore from her throat. She scrambled to her feet. She’d seen too much. Horror washed over her face as she looked upon him with wide eyes. Disgust and terror marred her features when she took in his form. Will I ever find someone not afraid of me?
Forget her, she wasn’t the one, his beast growled, angry that she was afraid of him.
Aster lunged for Julia as gunfire filled the air. She gasped, going limp in his arms as she was hit. The masked man emptied a round into his back. A savage roar left him as the leash on his beast slipped. His head morphed, his skin darkening to a deep brown. Horns protruded from his skull and his eyes turned red. His muscles grew impossibly wide, bulging and straining as the human half of him tried desperately to keep a semblance of rational thought.
Julia’s eyes widened in distress as blood coughed from her lungs. She looked down at the bullet wound in her chest in disbelief, then back to Aster.
“It’s going to be fine. You’ll be fine,” Aster tried to soothe, but the growl of his beast chased every syllable.
Aster’s last coherent memory before he lost himself to his beast was of Julia’s fear as she died, yet there was no fear of death, only him.
****
He woke to the sounds of sirens, and an overwhelming fear of his identity being discovered. Blood from the torn limbs of the four gunmen littering the bar around him soaked his body. He had no way of explaining the scene to the police. Dragging himself up, Aster looked down at Julia’s still form; she hadn’t been the one, but she’d been someone. Someone he could have saved if she’d not been afraid.
She was weak. Forget her. Our female will not cower in the face of our true nature.
She wasn’t weak. She was human. She didn’t understand, Aster replied internally.
Forcing his injured body up as the sirens grew nearer, Aster fled the bar. Heading out into the dark night, he kept to the shadows avoiding populated areas. Finding his way to a man he knew helped patch up wounded shifters like himself, his blood slowly dripped to the ground as he banged on his door.
Moments later, the human doctor opened his door, his hair rumpled, and his eyes drowsy with sleep.
“What’s the meaning—Aster? What the hell happened?”
“I need…” Aster’s words trailed off into a pained rasp, as he battled against unconsciousness, but lost.
****
 
; Waking to the rumble of early morning traffic, Aster sat up with a grown, his injuries not yet healed.
“Morning. That bar got anything to do with you? It’s all over the news.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Aster contained the growl travelling up his throat. “Wrong place, wrong time. I didn’t start it.”
“But you lost control.”
“The idiots shot me,” Aster snarled.
Enough! We don’t have to explain ourselves to him, his Minotaur grumbled.
Getting to his feet, Aster looked Kevin in the eyes. “I’m getting out of the city. There’s too many humans here.” Too many people who fear me, he added silently. “Thanks for patching me up.”
Nodding, Kevin pointed at a pile of clothes. “There should be something that fits you in there.”
“Thanks.”
Aster left Kevin’s. Keeping his head down, he watched his feet travel in front of the other, ignoring the pain, which was a constant reminder of the night before. Yet it wasn’t the torn, bloodied gunman Aster pictured, but Julia’s face. Her fear of him.
No more women, he told himself.
Don’t be a fool. I want what’s mine, his Minotaur snapped in return.
Pushing his beast away, Aster ignored the snarls in his mind. He’d had enough of the fear he induced in others. Closing himself off from the world, where he’d be safe from rejection, he moved from one town to the next, until he found Woodland Creek and finally the beast inside of him calmed.
Woodland Creek was different. Shifters lived in numbers, hidden in plain sight. Though still, Aster couldn’t bring himself to begin his search again. Julia’s death had affected him more than he cared to admit. So he hid from the world, and from his true nature, ignoring every protest of his beast.
Becca hadn’t had a blessed life. Recently though, she thought it was reaching an all-time low. Even being tossed from one foster home to the next her entire childhood was beginning to seem like heaven compared to the last few months.
Existing rather than living, her very essence was being drained by her lifestyle. Every day she witnessed and experienced horrible acts she could never erase from her mind. Becca was trapped, a prisoner, yet her captor didn’t see it as such.
When she was almost eighteen, she had run away from her final foster home, deciding she’d rather chance the streets than live with the foster dad with wandering hands. After a year, things began to take their toll. Stealing for food wasn’t easy, and no one wanted to employ a homeless woman who’d only just scraped through school with her GED. The day she met Alex Scar was a turning point in her life. At the time, she’d thought it was for the better, but how very wrong she’d been.
Alex Scar had many talents. His best though was wearing a mask. Alex Scar could turn from safe and handsome nice guy, to the leader of a drug cartel within seconds. He’d worn his mask for months, luring Becca into his trap. He gave her a home, a job, and he wanted nothing for it in return. Well, for the first six months at least.
Becca knew she was beautiful…sexy even. When she had nice clothes and a place to live, her dark brown hair glimmered almost black. Her blue eyes shone when she had no worries on her shoulders, and her smile was infectious and easily given. For six months, Alex had only been a friend. He’d given her a new life, and not once wanted anything more. The night he’d first touched her, he’d been gentle and sweet. His kiss had been light, teasing, leaving her wanting more.
I never do this, Bec. The girls I help, I never have any intention of wanting anything from them, but you, Becca, you are the sweetest of them all. I can’t help myself.
His words and smooth tone had captured Becca in his spell, and for a while, she’d been happy. Yet eventually, Alex’s mask began to slip. She witnessed glimpses of his real nature, and his real life. By the time Becca wanted out, she’d seen and heard too much. Her only out was death.
So there she was. Just twenty and girlfriend to Alex Scar, leader of the drug cartel in Detroit. Alex kept her by his side like a trophy. He knew she hated what he did, and it seemed to only please him more. He loved torturing her mind, loved to make her watch his interrogations. He also enjoyed hitting her when she stepped out of line.
Becca often wondered whether she had a limit, if there would come a time when she couldn’t take anymore. What would finally make her snap?
“Come here, Bec.”
Plastering a smile on her face, Becca glanced up at Alex. There was a new shipment of drugs in, and Alex and his crew were sampling the goods. Becca never touched the stuff, and Alex had never forced her to…yet.
“Yes?” she asked sweetly as she approached. Pulling the hem of her dress down, Becca felt eyes on her. Alex chose her clothes. He told her what to wear.
“Stop fidgeting,” Alex scolded, slapping her thigh. “Come, sit on my lap.”
Swallowing her revulsion, Becca complied. She hated nights when Alex got high. He always got too rough.
“My sexy, sweet thing,” Alex cooed, taking hold of her breast and squeezing tightly. “Show me how grateful you are, Becca.”
Sliding her hands up his body, Becca’s mind went blank as she retreated deep into herself, and performed an act she’d done many times with no thought. Blocking out Alex’s crew, she imagined they weren’t there. She didn’t feel anything when she kissed, and touched Alex Scar. It was like she wasn’t home. She’d left her body, and it acted on its own accord. Becca felt dead on the inside, and each time, she died a little more, yet she could see no way out.
Feeling extra hands on her, Becca snapped back to herself and pulled away as Tony, Alex’s right-hand man, groped her.
“Get off!” Becca yelled, venom in her tone.
Tony looked shocked she’d spoken. Anger filling his features, his eyes narrowed dangerously. She wasn’t quick enough to miss his strike. He clipped the side of her face. She fell back onto the floor and scrambled away. Her eyes met Alex’s, silently pleading with him to say something, to stop this, but Alex laughed, delighted with this new game.
“Get back here, Bec,” Alex ordered, patting the hard bulge between his legs. Then with a nod he indicated to Tony that he was okay to touch.
Bile rose up Becca’s throat as Tony’s eyes lit with delight. “What?” Becca whispered, her eyes looking from Tony to Alex. “But I’m yours, Alex.”
“Yes, you are. I own you, Becca, and I want you here on my lap. You’ll let Tony do as he pleases.”
Her legs moved on their own. Her mind screamed in protest, but nothing seemed to respond. They pulled at her, touching her, and stripped her body of her clothes. She felt their damp skin rubbing against her, but saw none of it, registered none of it.
Her back met the floor as Alex loomed above her, ripping the last shred of clothing from her body. A tear rolled from her eye as Tony’s cock hovered above her face.
“Now be a good girl and open up,” Tony sneered.
With one last pleading glance at Alex, Becca complied. I really do have no limit…
The door burst open.
“I’m busy!” Alex growled.
“I’m sorry, boss, but this is urgent.”
Alex’s hands dug painfully tight into her thighs. “I’ll finish with you later… Enjoy, Tony.”
For one hopeful second, Becca thought she’d been saved. Yet Alex stood, pulled on his jeans and then left with the rest of his crew and closed her in the room with Tony.
“At last I have you all to myself.” Tony smiled.
Becca snapped. Scrambling away, she turned to escape, only to be pulled back. Her head hit the coffee table with a painful thud, and the stack of cocaine tumbled to the floor, sending white puffs into the air.
“Bitch, you’re going to pay for that.”
“No…please.”
Her begging only enticed him more. Discarding his jeans, Tony pinned her to the floor, his grip painfully tight. As he neared her entrance, Becca turned her head away, unable to watch. Her eyes focused on the contents she’d knoc
ked from the coffee table; bags of cocaine, cigarettes and a gun, half hidden under a newspaper.
As the tip of his erection slid into her, Tony’s head tipped back with a moan, his eyes closing. Reaching out, Becca fumbled for the gun, knocking the cocaine out of the way and finally touching metal.
Becca knew there was a high probability she’d not leave the warehouse alive, and even if she did, Alex would never stop hunting her, yet her hand clasped the gun. The metal felt oddly right in her hand, her finger found the trigger as she pressed it against his chest, her hands unsteady. Tony laughed, not expecting her to shoot. But whether she lived or died, Becca wouldn’t allow herself to be loaned out to Alex’s men. Reaching her limit, she fired.
Even with a silencer attached, the gunfire was deafening. He slumped on top of her, the warmth of his blood seeping onto her skin. Pushing him off, Becca bit her lip to keep her revolted cry inside, and jumped to her feet. She stared at Tony, and then at the gun grasped in her trembling hand. Dropping it, she watched it tumble to the floor. Her heartbeat thudded through her skull. Each breath rasped through her lungs, never quite delivering enough oxygen to her blood. Dizzy, her body froze in shock as Tony’s blood pooled into the carpet, forever marking what she’d done.
The sound of a slamming door brought Becca to her senses. Snatching her dress from the floor, she pulled it over her head and raced from the room. She headed up the stairs to her and Alex’s bedroom. Finding her old rucksack in the hidden depths of the wardrobe, Becca briefly remembered the first day she’d packed clothes into the bag to run away. Only now, if she was caught, she’d die. Stuffing clothes in at random, Becca closed the bag, then pulled on the leather motorcycle pants Alex had bought her the month before. With her dress tucked inside, she slung on her matching leather jacket and walked to the safe built into the wall.
She’d known the combination code to open the safe for months, yet she’d never had the nerves to steal from Alex. Now though, stealing was necessary for her survival. If she were to have any chance of living, she’d need money to start over. Taking the envelope thick with cash, Becca couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction as she slipped it into her bag.