Retaliation by S. D. Paine ––Copyright © 2024

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning means, including the information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 979-8-9901373-0-1

  Cover Design: Miblart

  Editor: Andrea Halland, Editing by Andrea

  When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick knives.

  -Lauren Eden

  To the ones who always wanted to be the villain of their own story.

  Let your daemons out to play.

  AUTHOR NOTE

  This book contains dark themes and the characters make questionable decisions. Tropes and triggers include graphic violence, torture, bdsm-related scenes, and explicit intimate scenes.

  For more information about this book and future books in the series, visit my website and sign-up for my newsletter!

  www.sdpaineauthor.com

  Book One Playlist

  Find me on Spotify to listen to the Retaliation Playlist!

  Wolves by Sam Tinnesz

  Closer by Nine Inch Nails

  Let It Burn by ZZ Ward

  Odds of Even by Marilyn Manson

  Monster by PVRIS

  Sarcophagus by Do Not Resurrect

  Running Up That Hill by Placebo

  Bad Things by I Prevail

  Masterpiece by Motionless in White

  Happy by Mudvayne

  Cinderella’s Dead by Emmeline

  Dating the Devil by Davina Michelle

  Seven Devils by Florence

  Necessary Evil by Motionless in White

  Suffocate Bad Omens and Kayzo

  Monster by Paramore

  Easy to Love Bryce Savage

  FOMO by Ready Set Fall

  Sleeptalk by Dayseeker

  Just Pretend by Bad Omens

  Granite by Sleep Token

  Hurricane by I Prevail

  Werewolf by Motionless in White

  Seen a Ghost by Lose Control

  Heaven Knows by Pretty Reckless

  Lost by Bring Me the Horizon

  Twisted by Missio

  All the Good Girls Go to Hell by Billie Eilish

  Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz

  Silence by Marshmallow (feat. Khalid)

  A Little Wicked by Valeria Boussard

  The V.I.P. List

  Seraphina Valdis Bronwen - Undercover as Sara Braun

  Tabitha “Tibby” Marsden - Tech wizard and friend of Sara

  Andras Blackbyrn - Prince of the Obscuritas, son of Laszlo

  Typhon “Ty” Radnor - Prince of the Obscuritas, son of Darren

  Leviathan “Levi” Delano - Prince of the Obscuritas, son of Samuel

  Devon “Dev” Parrish - Prince of the Obscuritas, son of Ezekiel

  Laszlo Blackbyrn - King of the Obscuritas, Leader

  Darren Radnor - King of the Obscuritas, Enforcer

  Samuel Delano - King of the Obscuritas, Seducer

  Ezekiel Parrish - King of the Obscuritas, Technician, Deceased

  Aurora Valdis Bronwen - Mother of Lailah, Seraphina, and Michaela, Murdered by The Obscuritas

  Joseph Bronwen - Husband of Aurora, Father of Lailah, Seraphina, and Michaela, MIA

  Lailah Valdis Bronwen - oldest daughter of Aurora and Joseph, Murdered by The Obscuritas

  Michaela Valdis Bronwen - youngest daughter of Aurora and Joseph, MIA

  Pawns & Players

  Ryan Lancing - Lead Bartender at Noircoeur

  James “J” Azer - Gym Manager, close friend of Ty

  Dominique - Owner of Noircoeur, Obscuritas member

  Otis Redford - Operations Manager of Noircoeur, Obscuritas member

  Josie and Lottie Hayes - Twins, Dancers at Noircoeur, friends of Sara Braun

  Jade Dawlish - Professional boxer, employed at Ty’s gym, allegiance unknown

  Audrey Kingston - Student at Law School, attends classes with Sara Braun

  Xavier Saladino - Fireman at firehouse, member of unnamed gang, allegiance unknown

  Important Places

  Noircoeur - Burlesque Club beneath restaurant downtown Boston, owned by The Obscuritas

  The Towne House - Home of Andras, Typhon and Leviathan, located near Harvard University

  The Haven - Local pub owned by Devon, lives in apartment above

  Vespertine Hall - Estate located just outside city of Boston, owned by The Obscuritas

  P4 Fitness - Gym owned by Typhon, located near The Towne House

  Words & Phrases

  The Obcuritas - Exclusive cult seeking otherworldly power

  Umbra Noctis - Shadows of Night, secret sect of The Obscuritas created by the Princes

  Daemons - monstrous creatures of myths and legends, varying degrees of magic/power relating to the elements

  Lumens - ethereal creatures of myths and legends, varying degrees of magic/power relating to the elements

  Diabla - Spanish, (she) devil

  Mi diosa - Spanish, my goddess

  Belle femme - beautiful woman

  Tu es magnifique, mon amour. - You are beautiful, my love.

  Veux-tu me baiser ce soir, pompier? - Do you want to fuck me tonight, firefighter?

  Merci, bébé. - Thanks, baby.

  Tu es magnifique, mon ange. - You are beautiful, my angel.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sara

  Oh fuck me, I’m about to die.

  I scrambled back, ducking behind a maroon wingbacked chair as the next gunshot rang out, the bullet narrowly missing my head. Despite the fact I’d spiked this motherfucker’s drink with enough sleeping pills to knock out a whale, he was still standing. Sort of. Furniture crashed as he wobbled around the room, shouting for my death. I peeked over the chair and ducked back down just as quickly when he fired the gun again. The bullet whizzed by where my forehead had been seconds before, exploding into the drywall behind me. I guess they didn’t call him Bullseye for nothing. Thankfully the Rohypnol slowed his reflexes enough for me to dodge his shots. The bulky asshole lunged for the chair, and I darted behind a bookshelf. He roared his fury, his words slurring as he hounded after me. Thank the gods I wore my combat boots tonight instead of my heels. The shoes didn’t match my dress, but whatever. Comfort over fashion. Kill or be killed.

  The sizable mansion ten minutes outside of Boston was pretty much destroyed. I’d managed to cut down the majority of The Obscuritas cult henchmen while they sat around their fancy dinner table getting drunk on their uber-rich employer’s fancy liquor. The last few goons had been holed up in the study smoking cigars, exactly where I anticipated them to be. But damn if Bullseye didn’t go along with my plan, favoring his smokes over the drugged booze—hence the sloppy shootout. I had one weapon left and I had to make this final strike count.

  “Alright, I’m coming out! Don’t shoot yet!” I made my voice quiver with fear like a frightened little girl. A naturally soft voice had its perks.

  More incoherent words tumbled from his lips. I was very confident he said something like “Sure Sara, come on out and let’s be friends.”

  I slid the knife from my boot and sucked in a steadying breath, quieting my mind and sinking into the darkness inside me, preparing to pounce on my prey. My eyes snapped open, and I sprinted around the bookshelf and threw the blade seconds before Bullseye could pull the trigger. The knife buried to the hilt in his left eye. He dropped a heartbeat later, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  Bullseye, motherfucker. I snorted at my own joke, then winced as pain shot through my ribs. Definitely bruised, possibly broken. But I healed quickly—like inhumanly quickly—so at least I had that going for me.

  I looked around at the other dead bodies, but none of them were important enough to remember. I didn’t mind killing them. Actually, I enjoyed it. My body sang with adrenaline and arousal at what I’d just done. Fucked up, maybe, but I didn’t linger on that thought. Avoiding emotions like guilt and feeding on ones like rage worked well for me over the last decade. Besides, they were all predators. Karma was bound to catch up with them. And tonight, I was their karma.

  Bullseye, aka Big Fugly Douchebag, was one of the top assassins working for The Obscuritas, and he had a vile kink for torturing women. Rule Number One, never trust grown men in creepy cults. Unfortunately, the core members of The Obscuritas were much more than creepy. They were vile murderers with fucked up rituals. And they would pay for taking my family from me and fucking up every good thing I had ever known.

  My dagger slid from Bulleye’s eye socket easily. I wiped his filthy blood off the blade with his jacket. Blood dripped down my arm from a nasty cut, so I tore a piece of fabric from the dead guy’s shirt and tied it around the wound, knotting it with my teeth. I picked my way through the broken glass and overturned furniture toward the front door, sucking in fresh, wintry air soon as I opened it. The wind whipped my hair around my face. I was still getting used to the silvery blue color of it, but I c
ouldn’t risk anyone recognizing my signature copper locks. The brown-colored contacts itched my eyes, and I was more than ready for comfy clothes and a steaming hot shower to wash away this day.

  I stepped over the dead guy on the doorstep and walked toward my Buell motorcycle, one of my few prized possessions. Many hours were spent modifying and painting the bike to make it my own. Riding was a freedom unlike anything else. For that stretch of time, I was free from my thoughts and the darkness attempting to swallow me whole.

  “Come in, Nova,” a voice cracked in my ear, and I winced from all the gunshots still ringing in my brain.

  “Here, Tib—”

  She cut me off quickly. “Code names, Nova.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Here, Zenith.”

  “Injuries?” The click, click, click of her keyboard echoed in my ear as I made my way down the long driveway.

  “Minor,” I grunted, holding my ribs and eyeing the cut on my arm.

  “Casualties?” She popped a gum bubble in my ear.

  I snorted. “Many. Full house tonight. Including one very dead Bullseye.”

  “I saw. Really going for that deadly double entendre, eh?” Zenith popped another bubble.

  I snorted a laugh. “I suppose I did. Felt good too. Did you get anything from them?”

  Tibby let out an evil laugh. “Of course. Despite your failure to keep them from blowing their entire system to hell, I was able to extract some information before they crashed the network.”

  I smirked to myself. “Your skills are inferior to none, queen.” I hesitated, but couldn’t help asking my next question. “Anything on my family?”

  The silence verified what I already knew. If Tibby had found them, she would have told me right away.

  “Sorry, friend. Not yet.”

  I swallowed down my emotions and sighed. “See you later, Zenith.”

  Another bubble popped in my ear. “Peace out, Nova.”

  I strapped on my helmet, tucking my hair inside, and revved the Buell’s engine. My motorcycle was great for quick getaways, even if it was a freezing January night in Massachusetts. I zipped down the dead-end street and away from the bloody mess, not feeling the cold biting at my skin quite like most people did. I kept the lights off as I eased out onto the main road. Tibby hacked into the cameras and diverted the feed when I first arrived at the house, but I couldn’t risk someone seeing me leave.

  Tabitha Marsden, aka Tibby, aka Zenith, was pretty much my one and only friend. We’d met in a shelter for homeless teens. She was hiding out in the States after leaving London where she put her abusive stepfather in a coma. And I was…well I was a mess with nothing and no one. A few friendship bracelets and several bottles of vodka later and voila. Tech hackers, thieves, and murderers.

  I’d stolen a few pieces of jewelry, all the cash in the safe, and one particularly badass-looking medieval club-like weapon from the mansion to throw off anyone who came hunting for the murderer. Not that anyone would be looking for me specifically. No one even knew I was alive.

  I didn’t linger on that thought, not feeling up for a pity party tonight. I had plans in place. Things were finally coming together after almost two years of solid detective work on my part and a bit of tech sleuthing by Tibby. The Osbcuritas would pay. Starting with their Princes.

  I pulled my bike into one of the employee parking spots behind the local pub, The Haven. I’d made friends with the bar owner and, as of two months ago, occupied the apartment above it. I’d finally found a solid lead on the men I sought and, lucky me, all four of them currently lived in the same city. Devon Parrish was my first mark, an Obscuritas Prince masquerading as a “lowly” bar owner. Of the four men I tracked, he was the only one not strutting about the town, flaunting his wealth. Then again, I’d found out only six months ago his father, Ezekiel Parrish, one of the four Obscuritas Kings, was dead, and Dev didn’t seem to stay in touch with any of the other Princes. Tibby couldn’t find any details about his father’s death other than the headstone Dev had purchased. The mystery of it just screamed “secretly murdered by the cult leaders.”

  I locked up my bike and used the fire escape to enter the apartment. The only other way in was via the stairs through the bar, and since I didn’t fancy Devon knowing all my comings and goings, the fire escape was preferable. I shoved open the window and crawled through, cursing as my bloodied arm bumped into the rusty stove. The small kitchen was barely big enough for a child. Lucky for me, I was only 5’3” and although I wouldn’t consider myself thin, seeing as I lived in the gym when I wasn’t committing crimes against cult leaders, I could slip in and out of small spaces easily enough. My older sister, Lailah, had been gifted with legs for days and supermodel looks. I grimaced, unwrapping my arm and shaking the thoughts of my murdered sister from my mind. I tried not to think about her. Unless I was killing people, and then her broken body was all I could see before the rage took over. Sometimes I even blacked out from the fury of it, coming to on my bedroom floor with broken things scattered around me. I kept very little furniture these days.

  I flicked on a lamp as I grabbed a towel from the hall closet and tugged off my boots, heading for the bathroom. My arm no longer bled freely, and the cut wasn’t too deep. I hissed in pain as I rubbed a cotton swab with peroxide over it, cleaning it out before it closed up full of dirt and grime.

  I wasn’t entirely sure how my healing abilities worked, so it was better to be safe and clean the wound. The first time it happened, I was ten years old. I remembered my mother’s face like it was yesterday because everything changed after that stupid day.

  “Momma!” I cried out as I ran to her, my knee bleeding freely. Lailah and I had been playing in the yard when I fell from the trampoline. We were pretending to fly.

  Our mother was beautiful, like an angel. Her auburn hair fell around her shoulders in waves as she ran toward me. “My sweet princess. What happened?”

  I sniffed, my face wet with tears. “We were trying to fly. I fell and landed on one of Michaela’s toys. Look at my knee!”

  We both looked down at the bloody mess. Mother had come prepared with a cloth. She wiped it away gently, but the cut was already healing. I stared, confused. I looked up at her, and her eyes held something I didn’t understand at the time. Fear.

  My eyes burned with angry tears as I shook the memory out of my head. I turned the shower handle all the way to the left, needing the scalding hot water to cleanse my body and clear my mind. I stripped out of my bloody clothes and tossed them into a trash bag stashed in the bathroom closet. I’d need to pick up a few more shifts at the club to replace all my ruined clothes. Even though Tibby kept us rich with stolen money and offshore accounts, I needed to maintain a believable, low profile for now. I chose the underground burlesque club for two reasons: to observe drunk, rich idiots willing to spill their secrets and to sing.

  The scalding water soothed my mind and washed away the grime from the evening’s events. I lathered my skin with my favorite lavender and mint soap and scrubbed my body as I replayed the fight in my mind. While taking out Bullseye had been incredibly satisfying, tonight didn’t go as planned. He’d made me instantly, and I didn’t have time to interrogate anyone before the shooting started. Bullseye wasn’t a completely useless assassin and somehow saw the devil in my eyes when I walked into that mansion. I needed to change tactics. None of the lower level cult members were giving me what I needed. So lucky me, I’d be starting law school next week.

  Andras Blackbyrn was currently attending Harvard Law School’s elite master’s program. And with a bit of tech magic, Tibby had me enrolled as a student. We shopped online and purchased anything that screamed “slutty student.” I didn’t entirely hate it. I could really rock a tiny plaid skirt. Based on his dating history, Andras preferred his women blonde, young and pliable. I wasn’t changing my hair again, though. The long, silvery blue locks were staying. I couldn’t risk him recognizing me with a more neutral color. Not that he would. I hadn’t seen the sons of The Obscuritas leaders since we were children.

  I was only thirteen when they came for my sister, and the Princes were only a couple years my senior at the time. Lailah, my beautiful and bold older sister, was seventeen when she was murdered; sacrificed for some stupid ritual I still didn’t understand. Tibby and I scoured the dark web for details, but found very little. The Obscuritas clearly had their own tech wizard to keep their dirty secrets hidden.