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  SAVAGE LOVE

  A Scourge Survivor Series Novella

  JL Madore

  Copyright © 2019 by JL Madore

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  JL Madore

  www.jlmadore.com

  Cover Design: Fiona Jayde Media

  Copy Edit: Jenn Wood, All About the Edits

  Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Note: The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author are illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

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  Savage Love / JL Madore -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-1-989187-09-8

  DEDICATION

  To the folks at 20Books for all their shared support, experiences, and wisdom. Michael and Craig inspire us to get words on the page every day.

  A QUOTE I FOUND INTERESTING

  Wolves no longer live in Oklahoma, according to the Oklahoma Archeological Survey. The state’s bounty hunting decimated bison population and reduced deer population until the complete elimination of wolves in the 1930s.

  Unsubstantiated rumors of wolf sightings still occur periodically, according to the Oklahoma State Game Wardens Association Magazine.

  CHAPTER ONE

  My head cranked around on my neck, the pain of gauntlet to jaw bringing the bite of tears to my eyes. Blood burst from my lip in a macabre spray, my adrenaline ratcheting up from mildly interested to growing amusement. Ten against two was hardly fair, but our opponents’ drunken fog seemed to negate Kobi’s warning that this wouldn’t end well for them.

  Ducking the strike of the wooden leg of a barstool, I spun and punched. My knuckles buried hard into flab, my opponent’s makeshift club clattering to the sticky dance floor along with the flannel-clad tough-guy who thought he had things all figured out.

  Kobi snorted behind me, the demon’s odd sense of humor triggered by a clumsy display of his attackers colliding off one another like something from a Three Stooges skit.

  “Stop the clowning around, you two,” Suzi snapped from behind the bar. “Take out the trash or I will.”

  The namesake and owner of Psycho Suzi’s cocked the sawed-off in her hand and raised a silver brow. Suzi topped the list as the toughest female I’d had the pleasure of working with and considering the depth of field that category held—Blaze, Lexi, and his sister, Zophia—that said a lot about the woman.

  If she were forty years younger, I’d be in love.

  Shit. I grabbed Kobi and pulled my brother-in-arms out of the path of a sucker punch rushing in from three o’clock.

  He scowled. “I saw that coming, Sav.”

  Yeah, right. I rolled my eyes and raised my hands. Next time, I’ll let them steamroll you onto the floor.

  Kobi eyed the worn, drink-drenched parquet and snorted. “Yeah, that’s just gross.”

  Back at it, grunts and groans escaped the mob of men falling at the soles of their shitkickers like late-night worshippers. By the worried grimaces from the no-longer-cheering section, these studs promised to impress the ladies by taking out the leather-clad hardasses.

  Ha. Sucked to be them.

  Kobi’s phone went off, and the generic ringtone was weird. Having a song dedicated to every person in his contact list got him razzed on the regular, or beaten if the caller didn’t appreciate the associated dedication.

  My ring was “Bad to the Bone.” I approved.

  Heat sliced my side. Shit. I spun, and the barroom brawl returned to the forefront of my attention. Dumb-fuck bastard. I grabbed the hilt of the switchblade lodged above my left hip and pulled it free.

  Kobi’s eyes flipped to scarlet, his mask to hide his demon side discarded. He finished off his final opponent with a palm thrust and a broken nose. The crunch of cartilage had the crowd groaning and the girls letting off little whimpers of distress. “Not cool, asswipe,” Kobi snapped. “Why go to weapons. We were having a nice little Donnybrook, and you went and ruined it.”

  I barely heard my buddy’s words. Fury fired in my gut, the acid burn of bile in my throat overshadowing all reason. After more than a decade of fighting the most powerful and vile enemy imaginable, did this asshat think he’d be the one to take me down?

  Not bloody likely.

  Fed up with the whole encounter, I grabbed two guys by the ankles, Flashed outside, and dumped them on the porch. When I stormed back inside, I grabbed two more.

  Rinse and repeat.

  Me dematerializing clued a few idiots into the fact that I wasn’t an average Joe biker hanging at the bar. Few citizens of the Realm of the Fair possessed that ability: gods, Weres, and Talon warriors.

  Two out of fucking three assholes.

  The heel of my size sixteens stomped the sac of Stabby-Mc-stabber man, and the tough guy with the mullet curled up like a boiled shrimp. Another trip outside and I slammed the door to shut them out in the cold.

  Harsh night, all the way around.

  The violence didn’t faze the patrons who cleared the dance floor to watch the fight. In this realm, and especially in the communities of Haven Mountain, everyone had pretty much seen or suffered every nightmare imaginable. The late-night socialites flooded back onto the dance floor and picked up their two-step shuffle, the altercation forgotten.

  Back at our booth, I hiked up my wet tee to assess the damage. Fucking hell. Couldn’t a guy go out for a few dozen drinks with a pain in the ass buddy without ending up on the pointy end of some wannabe tough guy’s poker?

  Kobi ass-planted across the table and eyed the damage. “Stop whining. It’s a flesh wound, you pussy.”

  I flipped him a skull-ringed bird. Mutes didn’t complain much, and I wouldn’t if I could. Where was the style in it?

  “Let’s not tell Zo about this, ’kay? She’s pissed that I danced around what I was doing when I left tonight. You getting shanked at Suzi’s wouldn’t win me any points.”

  I lifted my eyebrow. I’m surprised you’ve got points left to lose.

  Kobi checked the scuffed flesh on his knuckles and laughed. “I’m new to the whole marriage thing, but honestly, I think I’m rocking it. Not to get into TMI but your sister is a highly satisfied woman these days. Between Aust and I—”

  I drew my heat; twin Glocks pointed across the table. My BFF, and recent brother-in-law stopped flapping his jaw and laughed. “Techy. My point is that we’re solid.” He smiled at his own words. “Yeah, baby, so fucking solid—”

  I flicked the safeties off and set the guns at the ready. Not another word, demon. I swear the next indecent image of my sister popping into my head earns you lead.

  Kobi busted up, his platinum piercings catching the tavern light as he threw his head back. “If you shoot me, they’ll rush to my aid to heal me. Gotta say, with what the three of us get into, it would be soooo worth the hit.”
<
br />   I fucking hate you. I abandoned the idea of shooting him, refusing to be the cause of some mass orgy threeway with my sister and her two husbands.

  From what I heard, Aust, Kobi, and my sister, are a match made in the heavens. Her marrying two men kinda struck me stupid. It wasn’t like I was a prude or anything, I just didn’t get it.

  I was happy for all three of them—well, it weirded me out that my sister was sexing it up with Kobi—but almost completely, solidly happy for them. Three in a marriage just felt like a recipe for a complicated life. After all I plowed through over for almost two decades, complicated wasn’t what I craved.

  “Nice face on you,” Kobi said, leaning back against the wall. “Seriously though, you should come home with me and crash. Surely, the way we warriors live, your soul-searching can’t be that involved. With the cray-cray of the holidays over, the coast is clear.”

  Oh, the holidays. I considered returning home for the festivities but knew I’d stall out under the mistletoe in the entrance of Jade’s mansion. She decked out the entire place in white lights and greenery, and I couldn’t face it. A guy needed to build up defenses, to keep everyone’s Yule spirit from sweeping him out to sea in a monstrous riptide of cheer.

  Suzi joined us with a tray of drinks, a damp cloth, and a well-battered first aid kit we raided on the regular. It really should have our names on it, with little notches for each time we needed to use it. “You better not mention this to that new wife of yours, Kobi. She might put you on a leash.”

  Kobi laughed and waggled an ebony, platinum-pierced brow. “We were discussing that very issue, Suzi. Although, masochist that I am, I love bondage, and Zo’s a wildcat when she’s mad. The other night, she stripped me down and—”

  My gun went off, and Kobi’s shoulder hit the back wall of the booth from the impact.

  The demon’s head cranked around like something from The Exorcist. His eyes glowed scarlet, the flames of Hell bringing his demon side to the surface. “Fuck you, Savage. That hurt.”

  I set my smoking Glock on the table and felt no regret. I told him not to get into sexual specifics with me sitting there. I barely knew my sister.

  Who wanted images like that stuck in their head?

  Kobi shucked off the sleeve of his jacket, checked that the slug had passed straight through, and grabbed a roll of gauze. “That was dirty pool. I wasn’t even talking to you, asshole. I was speaking to Suzi.”

  Still my sister. Still don’t want to hear it.

  “All right, boys, I’ll leave you two to duke this one out.” Suzi nodded to a server at the bar and left us to our Good Housekeeping patchwork session.

  I opted for liquid sedation before addressing the ooze warming my hip. I refilled my tumbler and then slid Kobi the bottle. I was a gentleman like that.

  “You need to get laid,” Kobi groused, shoving the medical supply kit my way. “This self-induced sexual dry spell you’re rocking has made you into a fucking bear. What happened to the guy who’d bang two or three chicks a night? That guy could party. Having troubles down yonder, buddy?”

  This time, I aimed at his crotch. Stop thinking about my cock. Right now, or I’ll shoot you again. Have you considered that I might know how to be discreet? It’s a concept lost on you, I know, but not everyone hangs their junk out for everyone to see.

  “I pity those who don’t. And no, you aren’t discreet. I’m an Incubus, dumbass. I sense sexual frustration. I’d smell if a female has been getting you off. You’re too long on the road, big fella. Time to head on in and wet your whistle. And when I say whistle, I mean your cock.”

  I leaned back and shook my head. I wish I could quit you. I really do.

  “Lies.” Kobi snorted. “You luuuurve me.”

  “Yeah, we thought we’d find you two here.” I followed the melodious chime of a choir’s song and met the gaze of my half-sister, Zophia. A pure-blood Fae goddess, she was a stunner despite the disguise of mundane clothes and makeup she wore when leaving the sanctuary grounds of Haven.

  I nodded to Aust at her side and figured it was my duty as Kobi’s fellow soldier to fall on the sword. Hey, sis, I said straight into her mind. The god channel we shared negated the need for hand signals, which I didn’t mind now that I was used to it. Not his fault. I asked him not to say anything.

  “Uh-huh. And what have you boys been up to tonight?”

  With the adrenaline of the fight dissipated, the brilliant red of Kobi’s demon side had drained away. It left only the Goth GQ chic of a man in leather and guyliner. He looked up at his mates, and the rush of adoration that colored his face was nothing I ever expected from the demon. “Nothing much. A few drinks, a bar brawl, oh, and Sav shot me.”

  Totally thrown under the bus. I warned you twice. It wasn’t like you didn’t know it was coming. Besides, it’s just a chicken wing. Now, who’s whining, pussy?”

  The demon’s phone rang again. This time, the Celtic tune, “Men Behind the Wires,” came on and Kobi pulled it out to answer. “Hey, Julian, what’s doing?”

  While Kobi chatted with ground control, I wiped things clean, avoided eye-contact with my sister, and finished with the butterfly tape. This wasn’t the first hole I’d plugged in my side and wouldn’t be the last. I dropped my shirt over the damage and reclaimed my glass, giving the concerned on-lookers a thumbs up.

  Zophia signaled for Kobi to shove over and Aust grabbed a chair, flipped it around, and straddled it at the end of the booth. After topping up Kobi’s glass, my sister took a long swig and pointed at my side. “If you reclaimed your abilities, patching yourself up would be a moot point.”

  Yeah, Castian gave me back what my brother stole, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that door. Activating that side of my gene pool weirded me out. For fifteen years, I’ve been fully mortal, fighting the fight, bleeding, aging—all the good stuff. I think I’ve done all right.

  “Maybe you fought so long and focused so hard on stopping Abaddon, now that the battle is won, you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

  I bit back the growl and looked around for our server. As a Fate, Zophia’s insights rang far too accurate for my liking. I preferred to be the aloof, broody stranger in the corner. Not front and center being psychoanalyzed.

  The skillset of a heartless assassin doesn’t translate into everyday life. I’ll re-slit my throat before accepting a desk job or anything at the academy.

  In truth, teaching physical combat didn’t totally suck. After wiping the blood off my fingers, I reclaimed my tumbler and went back to numbing my brain. Enough social outing for one night. I needed to commit to the task at hand.

  Kobi would be happy enough to call things early and head home with Zo and Aust. I glanced over to my wingman to see how he was doing on the phone.

  “Tonight? It’s fucking Oklahoma cattle country, Julian. What could happen between now and the dawn of the morning?”

  Jack Daniels caught in my throat and I spat spray and sputtered on the burn. Trouble brewing in Oklahoma cattle country brought rolling nausea to my gut and a tightening to my cock. Which was crazy. Oklahoma was a big state and odds were that the trouble had nothing to do with—

  “Why isn’t Cowboy handling it?”

  I cursed inwardly, my grip tightening on my glass. Okay, but Cowboy’s old wolfpack had caused trouble before. It still didn’t mean that it had anything to do with Hann—

  “Hannah Burke? Who the fuck is that?”

  The hair on my arms stood on end.

  “Yeah, I got it.” Kobi rolled his eyes as if he was bored while my heart ricocheted like a rogue pinball in my chest. “I got it. Fuck off. I said I’ll take care of it.”

  I poured myself another round and tried to still the tremor in my hands before the ever-watchful gaze of Zophia noticed I was wigging out. I tipped back the glass and chugged. The empty came down on the pitted surface of the table with a crack, and I lifted my hands. So, what’s doing in Oklahoma?

  “Some woman called an old cell
number of Cowboy’s that Julian rerouted. She left the wolf a message that there was an emergency with his parents and he needed to get home.”

  Cowboy’s parents? Why should he give two shits about those assholes?

  Kobi tossed cash on the table and shrugged. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Sav. I’ve already got one hole I didn’t ask for tonight, fuck-you-very-much.”

  Aust eyed the seepage staining Kobi’s gauze wrap and frowned. “You should come home to heal, not venture off to aid people who beat their own son and left him for dead.”

  “Trust me, Highborne,” Kobi said, his smile more intimate than should be allowed in public. “I’d much rather come home and heal, but I’m the lucky bastard who gets to follow up. Bruin’s at a Were Summit in Africa and Cowboy’s there as his Beta. They’re out of communication for the next couple of days. I drew the short straw.”

  I shook my head and gathered my guns. After holstering them at the small of my back, I changed the program. I loved the incubus demon but wouldn’t let him anywhere near Hannah—especially when he had a wound to heal. You three go home. I’ve got it.

  Kobi lit up. “Seriously?”

  I met the demon’s fist for a bump. It’s the least I can do. I shot you, remember?

  “I vaguely recollect the bullet searing through my flesh.”

  Shifting to get out of the booth, I waited until Aust stood to clear my path. Gods, even those quick seconds seemed to tick into hours. I needed to lock my shit down.

  “Safe home, Savage,” Aust said, dropping his chin.

  I squeezed the guy’s shoulder and gave my sister a nod. Laters all.

  “Before you go.” Zophia rose and stepped in front of me. Even with her opal skin covered and wearing a hoodie and jeans, there was no way anyone with half a brain wouldn’t know she was extraordinary. Her powers brought the very air around us to life.

  She straightened and wasn’t far off meeting me eye to eye. “Promise you’ll come home when you’re finished this assignment. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jade and Lexi ask about you all the time, and with you not here for training, the men are getting a little soft around the middle.”