Sweet Ruin
(Book 15 in the Immortals After Dark series)
A novel by Kresley Cole
Dedicated with much gratitude to Nancy Tonik, production genius.
You always help me build a better book.
EXCERPTED FROM THE LIVING BOOK OF LORE . . .
The Lore
“. . . and those sentient creatures that are not human shall be united in one stratum, coexisting with, yet secret from, man’s.”
• Most are immortal and can regenerate from injuries, killed only by mystical fire or beheading.
Primordial
“The mightiest of them all; filled with power, magicks, and majesty.”
• The firstborn—or the oldest generation—of a species.
The Møriør
“In the tongue of the Elserealms, Møriør can mean both ‘The Dozen’ and ‘Soul’s Doom.’ ”
• An alliance of otherworldly beings led by Orion the Undoing.
• Have seized control of most planes of existence.
The Noble Fey of Grimm Dominion
“A warrior nobility who ruled over all the demon serfs in their realm.”
• Were féodals, an ancient term for feudal overlords, which became shortened to fey.
• Their source dimension is Draiksulia, their empire the Grimm Dominion.
The Dark Fey
“Offspring between darkness and light. Cursed banes on the fey.”
• Halflings born of a fey and a demon.
• Their black blood is poisonous, known as baneblood.
The Demonarchies
“The demons are as varied as the bands of man. . . .”
• A collection of demon dynasties.
• Most demon breeds can teleport or trace to places they’ve previously been.
• A demon must have intercourse with a potential mate to ascertain if she’s truly his—a process known as attempting.
The Accession
“And a time shall come to pass when all immortal beings in the Lore, from the Valkyries, vampire, Lykae, and demon factions to the witches, shifters, fey, and sirens . . . must fight and destroy each other.”
• A kind of mystical checks-and-balances system for an ever-growing population of immortals.
• Occurs every five hundred years. Or right now . . .
Those who oppose us will know their doom.
When in doubt, squeeze till something breaks.
ONE
Houston County, Texas
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO
Jo woke to the taste of copper.
She smacked her lips, moving her tongue. Something’s in my mouth?
Her eyes flashed open. She bolted upright, and spat two pieces of crumpled metal. What the hell are those?
Clutching her aching head, she gazed around, wrinkling her nose at the antiseptic smell. Where am I? Her vision was blurry, the light dim. She thought the room was tiled.
Shit, was she in a hospital? No good. That’d mean she and Thaddie were back in the foster system and off the streets. Which meant she’d be breaking him out yet again.
Where was he? Why couldn’t she remember what happened?
Think, Jo. THINK! What’s the last thing you remember?
Slowly images of the day began to surface. . . .
It’s getting too hot to stay here.
Closing in on the library, Jo scanned the streets for the gang lord’s Monte Carlo. She thought she heard its newly replaced engine rumbling a couple of blocks over.
The streets of this hood were a maze, the Monte Carlo a dragon. She was a plucky superhero, carrying her trusty sidekick on her back.
But last night hadn’t been a game.
She craned her head around to ask Thaddie, “What do you think?” His little body was secured in the Thadpack—the stolen backpack she’d modified, cutting out holes for his legs. “We lost ’em, didn’t we?”
“Loss ’em!” He waved his single toy, his Spider-Man doll, to celebrate.
She and Thaddie needed to get scarce, maybe head to Florida, making a new start in Key West.
She eyed their surroundings one last time, then slipped through the library’s back door, left open for her by Mrs. Brayden, part-time librarian/full-time busybody, a.k.a. MizB.
The woman was in the lounge, already setting up the high chair. Her picnic basket was full.
Do I smell fried chicken?
“Hope you two are hungry.” Her dark-brown shoulder-length hair had a touch of gray. Her eyes were light brown behind her boxy glasses. As usual, she wore some lame pantsuit.
Don’t look too eager for chicken. “Whatever.” Jo freed Thaddie from the pack, then took a seat, adjusting him in her lap. “Guess we could eat.” She propped her combat boots on the table.
MizB sighed at Jo’s outfit: ratty jeans, a stained T-shirt, and a black hoodie. The woman had offered to do laundry for them, as if Jo and Thaddie had a wardrobe of other stuff to change into while they waited.
“We need to talk, Jo.” She sat, but didn’t unload the basket.
“Uh-oh, Thaddie, it looks like we’re about to get a lecture.” Jo winked at him. “What do we say to MizB when she lectures us?”
He grinned at the woman, his adorable face dimpling, then yelled, “Fuggoff fuggoff fuggoff!”
Jo laughed, but MizB was unamused. “Excellent, Josephine. Now he has a potty mouth because of you.”
“He hasn’t reached his full potential of potty. Oh, but he will. Because my baby bro is brilliant!” Two and a half years old, and he was a boy genius.
At least, that’s how old she thought he was. Thirty months ago, she’d been found wandering the outskirts of Houston, wearing black robes and speaking “gibberish.” She’d clutched Thaddie in her arms, hissing at anyone who tried to take him from her. Before that day, she had no memories.
The docs had put him as a newborn and her age at eight. They’d figured head trauma had caused her memory loss.
No parents had come to claim them. Fuckers.
Sensing the drop in her mood, Thaddie made his Spidey doll kiss Jo’s cheek. “Mwah!” He smiled again. The kid loved showing off his new teeth.
Whereas Jo would just as soon sneer at someone, he babbled greetings to everyone, inviting them to play with his toy. If she’d ever owned a toy of her own, she never would’ve shared it with people who weren’t Thaddie.
“Be fwends?” he’d ask anyone, blinking his big hazel eyes at them, and “awws” would follow.
Folks fell in love with him as deeply as they fell in hate with Jo and her “sullen attitude,” “sickly looks,” and “pinched expression.”
“He needs a checkup,” MizB said. “And vaccinations. You both do.”
“If Thaddie didn’t like you so much, I would’ve popped you in the mouth by now. You realize that, don’t you?” She swiped her sleeve under his running nose. “He’s fine. We’re doing fine.” Jo had never meant to get so dependent on the woman.
A year ago, the tiny library had seemed like a good hideout for the day. She’d planned to steal some comics and wash herself and Thaddie in the bathroom like the rest of the homeless did.