Crystal Rose Read online

  CRYSTAL ROSE

  BOOK 1

  LEAH RHOADES

  COVER ART BY KISONU YUUTATCHI

  Copyright © 2020 by Dark Shifter Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2020

  Dark Shifter Publishing

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  Other Titles by Leah Rhoades:

  The Whisperer

  Nightkind – Amore Immortale Vol. 1

  Daywalker – Amore Immortale Vol. 2

  Rogue

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  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 1

  Even as a young child, something in the forest called to me, and tonight, I could hear the woods breathing.

  Mind yourself. Always know your surroundings.

  Grandma Charlotte didn’t have to tell me. I already sensed the activity buzzing around me, everywhere I went. Everyone called her an ‘odd duck’ but I didn’t think she looked like a duck at all. And odd was an understatement. But after my parents’ car accident, there wasn’t anyone else.

  So I’d come to live in Grandma Charlotte’s cabin for the last ten months, since right after my seventh birthday. And I’d fallen in love with the woods. They whispered to me during the quiet hours in the middle of the day and taunted me at night. I watched them sway like dancers and giggle as the breeze tickled them, the way I used to twitter and laugh when my daddy tickled me.

  Tonight, the full moon glowed brightly overhead, and it turned the summer leaves silver and white. I gazed out the window, waiting, listening, wondering.

  Watching.

  Never go into the woods at night, Crystal. Always be home before dark.

  Grandma Charlotte’s warning rang softly in the back of my mind, and I narrowed my eyes, tuning my ears to the creaks of the old cabin. The boards made eerie sounds, whistling when air seeped through the cracks and groaning as it settled. But there was a particular sound I strained to hear, the sound of rusty hinges and then the quiet clap of the front door closing.

  Followed by the click of a shotgun.

  If I wasn’t supposed to go into the woods at night, why did Grandma Charlotte leave me alone after I went to bed and sneak away, disappearing into the thick line of trees around the back with her double barrel? It wasn’t for target practice. The targets were in the field beside us, and she showed me how to use the gun during the day.

  I’d seen her go several times in the past week, something clawing at me inside and keeping me awake when I should have been dreaming. It wasn’t fear. I hadn’t had any nightmares in months. I thought maybe it was the woods, telling me to come and see what lay beyond the border. Tonight, I would get answers to all my questions.

  Precocious.

  It was a word I’d heard used to describe me, the way people called Grandma Charlotte eccentric and odd, or the way they had called my mother sweet and intuitive. Or my father militant and authoritative. Again, I could guess at what it meant, and maybe that was the reason I jumped into action as soon as the chain of events I’d been patiently waiting for took place. I had to follow my gut. I had to see where Grandma Charlotte was going and what was so important that she would creep away late at night.

  I’d already put on my sweats and sneakers, and I’d pulled my hair back with a clip. My mother had taught me how to do that for my birthday. Now, I slammed out of the cabin and ran at full speed around to the back of the cabin, getting there just in time to see my grandmother step into the darkness between two trees. They seemed to join hands above her like a welcoming gate and then bend to close the gap behind her.

  Swallowing her.

  But I hurried through the tall grass, determined not to lose her, and I barely hesitated as I crunched onto the bed of leaves where I’d just seen her. I gazed up, and the branches smiled at me. Hello, Crystal, they said. I grinned back, mischief and curiosity getting the best of me. Holding my head high, I told myself I had the courage of an explorer like the Vikings, only I didn’t need a boat. I could brave the woods like any warrior.

  Still, my heart raced, and I held my breath, attuned to any sound as my eyes adjusted to the blackness around me. The stream trickled over limestone rocks nearby. I’d been there during the day a few times, taking off my shoes and wiggling my toes in the cool, crisp water. But something told me Grandma Charlotte had gone the other direction, and I slowly turned to my right. The woods were thicker in that direction, somehow scarier. If I had to guess, I would have thought that was where I might need a shotgun for…whatever I might find.

  I started to march and thought better of it, tiptoeing the best I could over uneven ground. My shoe caught on a vine, and I tripped, catching myself on the trunk of a broad tree with rough bark. I blew on my palm to stop the stinging where I’d scraped it and continued, more careful now. Something chattered and scrambled above me, and pieces of leaf and bark rained down.

  I brushed them away, and I heard the click of the shotgun again. I froze, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Straight ahead, I thought, and I took one step, waited, and then another. That sounded like Grandma Charlotte’s crooked walk. She complained one leg was slightly shorter than the other, and it made her walk funny, though I couldn’t see the difference. But I could hear it faintly.

  It grew closer, and I jumped out of my skin, nearly crying out as Grandma Charlotte stepped around the shrubs to my left and blocked my path. I panted hard, trying to catch my breath. And even though it was so dark I could barely see the ground, I could make out her scowl as she chided me in a harsh whisper. “I told you not to come here! You’re not supposed to be in the woods at night, Crystal.”

  “But Grandma, I—“ She covered my mouth, cutting me off, and her eyes darted back and forth. She looked terrified, and I couldn’t remember ever seeing her frightened by anything. Sure, she was serious about me not being out after dark, but she’d only ever sounded grumpy and maybe a bit crazy about it. Never scared.

  But the whites of her eyes glowed in the dark as they widened with fear. “Crystal, I want you to turn around and march home right this instant. Don’t look back, and don’t say a word,” she whispered. Her words came fast and short, and I wanted desperately to ask her what was wrong. But I knew better. Grandma Charlotte wasn’t the kind of person to spank me, but she would certainly find a good way to punish me for disobeying. Maybe she’d make me sweep the patio all day tomorrow or clean the wood burning stove again. Either way, I didn’t speak when she finally uncovered my mouth.

  Both our heads whirled in the same direction as a twig snapped, somewhere off to my right. I felt the tension in my grandmother double, and a glance at her told me she didn’t like what she’d heard. My bravery suddenly lacking, I started to question why I’d come, but the trees seemed to gather around me and urge me to stay. We’re
here for you, Crystal. Don’t be afraid. So why did I feel panic weighing down my feet and sending shivers down my spine?

  Snap. Crack. Thump.

  In quick succession. I was glued to the spot, intrigued and worried all at the same time. Was this the forest coming alive, taking possession of me? The jungle had taken Tarzan and Mowgli. It could certainly come for me. I was an orphan, too.

  But something didn’t feel right, and a twitching sensation in the back of my mind told me not to defy Grandma Charlotte as she pushed my shoulder with urgency. “Run, Crystal! Run back to the cabin. Lock the door, and don’t come out!” She wasn’t whispering anymore.

  On the heels of her words, a rumble echoed from all directions, like it surrounded us. A deep, dark, evil sound that shook the ground and made the trees tremble. I felt it in my bones before I even heard it, and I sensed it in the churning of my stomach as I tried to pick up one foot and failed. “Go!” she cried, and this time, she shoved me hard enough to send me sprawling on the ground ten feet away.

  Thundering steps, like four paws running, chasing. Hunting.

  The brush seemed to part and reveal a dead emptiness, but suddenly, it wasn’t empty. The blackness wasn’t just the night – it was a beast. A monster.

  “Run!” Grandma Charlotte’s scream pierced the night, and then there was an explosion of sound that rocked me to the core, deafened me. A shotgun blast. The silence lasted the space of a heartbeat, as the beast – all black, matted fur with a crooked, snarling mouth full of jagged, sharp teeth – leapt from the bushes. It stretched four times as long as I was tall, and its paws were the size of my head as it launched at Grandma Charlotte.

  I scrambled backward, trying to get to my feet, but I slid in the mud under the leaves and twigs on the ground. In horror, I saw the shotgun fly backward, out of my grandmother’s arms, as the beast knocked her back with enough force to take down one of the tall buildings in the city where I’d grown up.

  I finally managed to stand, but I couldn’t stop watching. The beast stood over my grandmother, pinning her to the ground, and I saw thick lines of saliva fall from its open mouth as it seemed to grimace at her, just for a moment. Then, it roared so loudly I thought my head might explode, and it drove me into action.

  I whirled and took off, my grandmother’s wordless scream tearing through the trees and seeming to light up the sky with the red of the blood I could smell in the air. I knew as I hit the open field and raced into the house that she was gone. That I was alone. But that wasn’t what haunted me.

  The image burned into my mind was the glowing yellow embers of the beast’s eyes, which had seemed almost human.

  Chapter 2

  I checked my watch as I walked out of the campus library, cursing under my breath. I had an hour to make it out to the cabin, if I wanted to be on time. I’d have to hurry to the car and fight my way through the mass exodus, then rush down the road to get there by four, but it was my own fault. I’d spent too long pouring over the research material for my thesis, which I’d just started working on.

  I blew my hair out of my face, the breeze outside making my efforts in vain. I scowled and half jogged down the street to where I’d parked and slammed into the car, wishing the subway would take me upstate. I could have taken a northbound commuter train, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere near my destination.

  I hated driving to school, usually left my car in the garage, but knowing I couldn’t get out to the cabin any other way, I’d dredged up the nerve to brave the streets of the city. Now, I had to get out of the standstill traffic and to the interstate to head north, hoping any delay wouldn’t anger the new tenants.

  In hindsight, I should have just sent the keys to them through the mail. I didn’t want to go out there anyway, too many tainted memories and too much pain. It was the reason I’d decided to rent out the place. Sure, it had cost a pretty penny to get the cabin in shape and have the property cleaned up. After all, it had been sitting there, empty and unkempt for the better part of fourteen years. I imagined the field overgrown like a jungle, overtaking the patio.

  But it was worth it. I wanted nothing to do with the cabin, though now that I’d inherited it and the lump sum of the accounts that had belonged to my grandmother and my parents, I couldn’t bring myself to actually sell it. I felt like that would be pissing all over Grandma Charlotte’s memory.

  I tried not to focus on the tightness in my chest as I drew nearer the property, tried not to think about the woods and the last time I’d seen the cabin up close. I’d sent contractors out and had a property manager take inventory of the place, not quite ready to face it myself, even after all this time. I don’t know if I was expecting my grandmother’s ghost to greet me or a rabid animal to appear and consume me the moment I stepped on the property, but I was desperate to finish this errand and be on my way back to the relative safety of the city.

  I pulled into the gravel driveway right on time and knew the Navigator just behind me had to belong to Everett Wesley, my new tenant. No one else would drive out here without a purpose. There had been no other traffic on the road with me for the last two miles.

  It took a lot of self control to force my eyes to the cabin, which didn’t look any different than it had when I was seven. I figured a fresh coat of paint and replacing a few boards had done the trick.

  I briefly glanced toward the woods before I got out of the car. But my imagination created a trail of blood trickling out and running toward the cabin, so I looked away quickly and stood, pasting what I hoped was a welcoming smile on and turning toward the two men who stepped out of the SUV.

  The older gentleman, Everett, I assumed, wore a deep scowl that marred his looks. He seemed old enough to be the other man’s grandfather, though I knew they were actually father and son. I figured some of the unsightly wrinkles and graying hair had been caused by his not so cheery disposition. He didn’t like me, I could tell instantly, but it didn’t matter. I was nothing but a landlady to them, and I would have someone else perform any necessary maintenance. They never had to see me again.

  The younger man – Luke, I presumed – seemed much more intrigued and gave me a handsome grin that showed beautiful, straight white teeth. The resemblance was strong, though I felt that tingle on the back of my neck and low in my stomach that I got when I found someone incredibly attractive. He had to be at least six feet tall, maybe more, and his dark hair was streaked with white blond in a way that seemed totally natural. It set off those brilliant blue eyes of his, which showed the sincerity of his smile in the way they glittered in the sunlight.

  Absolutely devastating.

  I tried to reel myself in, but I couldn’t help noticing his body. He wore a tight fitting t-shirt and jeans that hugged his hips and legs, showing muscular thighs and an overall athletic build. He didn’t look like the type to work out every day, so I assumed he was naturally built that way. And how delightful!

  But it was just eye candy. I stepped toward them and held out my hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

  The father gave the cursory quick pump, but the son grinned even broader and held on just a tad longer than necessary. I trembled slightly as he released his hold, a shockwave of pleasure rippling through me with the rich tone of his voice. “I’m Luke, and this is my father, Everett. I didn’t catch your name.”

  I hadn’t said it. I tried not to attach myself to the stories in the paper, even when it came to newcomers who may not know my history. It warranted national headlines, the poor orphaned child whose last remaining kin had been mauled to death in front of her by some rabid animal. I swallowed the lump in my throat that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with lingering nightmares. “Crystal,” I told him, not using my last name. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize it.

  But the flash in his eyes, however brief, told me he’d heard about the incident and probably knew my life story. I put it out of my mind and took the manila envelope with two sets of keys out of my jacket pocket. Clearing my t
hroat, I handed it to him. “The keys with the yellow rubber are for the storage shed. The ones with the red open the front and back doors. And there’s a storm shelter about a hundred feet behind the cabin, in case of emergency. The little key opens the padlock on it.”

  He nodded and squinted against the sun at my back. “We appreciate it, Crystal. Do you mind if we look around and make sure we’re set before you go?”

  I just wanted to leave. Something about the woods still touched a nerve, the way it had when I was little. I’d nearly forgotten the sensation, the way it seemed to talk and breathe and nibble at my ear, almost seductively. I couldn’t walk into them. It was late in the day, and the sun would disappear soon behind the mountains to the west. Besides, the authorities had found Grandma Charlotte’s remains in those trees, and I’d peered at them, even when I wasn’t supposed to.

  Bones and clothes, a few pieces of raw meat, and her gray hair. That was everything left of her.

  I could see it, piled in the thicket of trees where she’d died, and I thought maybe that was the place her gruesome ghost waited, filled with anger and disappointment still that I’d disobeyed her.

  Of course, I couldn’t explain any of that to my tenants. They would think me mad, like everyone assumed Grandma Charlotte had been. Or they might actually leave, asking for the deposit back, and I’d be at square one again. I had a fair amount of money in the trusts I’d inherited, but I knew I’d struggle with starting my career once I graduated and would need every penny I earned from renting out the cabin.

  “Sure, I can hang around for a bit.” I told myself there were good memories to find in the cabin and on the property. The target practice area where my grandmother taught me to shoot, a brief glimpse into the room I’d lived in for such a short time, which I’d been allowed to decorate with my choice of colors. I smirked as I followed them toward the front door, remembering how offended she’d been when I’d chosen orange and purple.