Broken House (Tears of the Cosmos Book 2)

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  M. Sinclair

  Copyright

  Copyright © M. Sinclair, 2019. All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  For those who love our over the top alpha males AND our kickass heroines.

  “Create an empire together.”

  Description

  This. This, right here? This was fucking typical.

  No.

  I apologize. Wrong word. This, right here? This was ironic.

  This was the most ironic fucking shit, I'd ever experienced.

  How long had I spent wanting and pleading to die?

  Then, at my darkest moment... I'd found a reason for hope.

  A possibility for something more than what had been a fairly depressing existence thus far.

  So... the irony of being as close to death's door as I'd ever been was not lost on me.

  I suppose this was my opportunity to enjoy the closest I'd ever get to death. I was in Hell.

  Except hell was far different than I expected.

  By day the Art Deco hotel paradise featured a fantastic martini menu and my handsome psychopathic boss.

  By night it became a playground for a bloody hunt.

  Broken House: A show like nothing you've ever seen!

  If 'show' was defined as 'a hunt'.

  Hunting of exotic creatures was fairly popular with demons because it allowed them a night to do whatever the hell they wanted with them.

  The best part? My brother and I were on the menu.

  My problems are growing bigger everyday as I avoid a vengeful Momon.

  My boys have no idea where I am and my brother has completely checked out.

  I could give into this chaos but I want to live. I didn't want to live in a tortuous cycle of pain anymore. I know. Shocking.

  What I really wanted though? My boys back.

  Unfortunately, there was only one man who could give me that

  Is my happiness worth what it would cost me? I guess we'd see.

  Warning: This dark RH fantasy romance contains dark themes. Our heroine has been through a lot and continues to go through many struggles. The book contains substance abuse, gore, violence, swearing, abuse, assault, sexual themes (+18), PTSD, and an array of other dark subject matters. If those concepts are not something you can read about, I would suggest not reading this book. The series will end with a HEA but the heroine has to go through a lot to realize she can trust the men around her. If this book appeals to you I promise that it will be an emotional roller coaster.

  Age: +18

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  ©️M.Sinclair 2019

  Prologue

  Desmond

  She was gone.

  She had just disappeared from Earth realm. Utterly and completely vanished. I closed my eyes as I leaned against the doorframe of her modern bedroom. I couldn’t look at the wavy pattern on the golden walls of her room, salt water trickling. The water splashed onto the glass stones near the base of the wall and created an odd, watery reflection on the ceiling. I couldn’t look at that though. I couldn’t look at the massive, dark bed sunken into the floor. I couldn’t look at fucking any of it without thinking of her.

  The Louvre house seemed empty and cold without her presence. It was just a massive generic structure of glass and cement in the middle of a landscape of sand and heat. Even at night, the Arizona heat permeated the complex like the silence screaming loudly around us.

  The party was over.

  Dean had essentially kicked everyone out. He had his pride search the surrounding area and called in connections throughout Earth realm. It wouldn’t matter though.

  I knew exactly where the fuck she was.

  As King of Smoke, my rank in the demonic realm far exceeded that of Momon’s service position. Yet, if he got her within the walls of a specific realm outside my jurisdiction… there would be a lot of hoops we would have to jump through. Not that I fucking minded. I would rather just destroy the entirety of the demonic realm. But certain rules existed larger than even me.

  The demonic realm, referred to as Hell by most humans, consisted of several different kingdoms. Mine figured as one of the most prominent. Jinn culture in general garnered far more respect than most demon sectors, but that didn’t take away from the raw force that other kingdoms possessed. The one I was most worried about? Momon’s.

  I had men stationed at all of our borders in case they crossed through… but I knew.

  I knew where the fuck she was and that meant we needed to get down there. Now. The problem? I couldn’t just enter a realm like that without reason or proof. It was the type of place you could find yourself stuck in for… centuries. I looked down at my wrist watch. Already, days would have passed for her. The timing of such a place made it seem as though a full month had passed before a full twenty-four hours rounded out here.

  We needed to act. Fast. I hoped that the men I had embedded in each kingdom would get back to me soon. I shook my head. Rage pulsed through me.

  Heaven help anyone who tried to stop me from getting Lorcan back.

  I tried to never abuse my power but even now I could feel the flames under my skin licking at my body like a fucking wildfire. My jaw hitched together into a tight position as I imagined the horrors she could possibly be going through. I would suffer the guilt from abusing my power for millenia if it meant getting her out of there. I ran my hand over my mouth as I shook my head. I exhaled with frustration.

  “Desmond,” Adriel snapped.

  My eyes shot to the man in front of me, standing in an impatient stance. He had clearly been standing there for… well, probably some time. I hadn’t been paying attention.

  “What?” I asked quietly my voice hard, cold, and detached.

  Adriel’s eyes flashed darkly. “I am sending men down to your kingdom. Who do you want them to report to?”

  I closed my eyes. “Fifth Section Commander. They are the closest to the border of the realm I think he is taking her to.”

  “You know where she is?” he hissed.

  I could feel Dean and his two brothers enter the room before I saw them, but I ignored them. “I can assume. Although I hope I am wrong.”

  “Where?” Dean demanded as his lion rumbled a low dark sound from his chest. The expression he’d endured when he’d realized Lorcan had been taken was one that would probably be ingrained in my head, forever. You didn’t forget pain like that.

  “Momon works for Mr. Black. He is the king of the ’Alam Realm. I’d have to assume they have been taken to Broken House if that’s indeed where they went.”

  ‘Alam meant “pain” in Arabic. The other six kingdoms had been n
amed similarly, my own being called the Dukhan Realm. The smoke realm. So, you can probably imagine what Mr. Black’s realm consisted of.

  Pain. Lots of fucking pain.

  Adriel stilled at my admission. The brothers shared confused looks. Well, two of them did. Dean didn’t react at all. The King of Nightmares spoke in a tight voice. “You aren’t fucking serious, Desmond. Right?”

  “I am,” I drawled. “I have men stationed there. The minute they receive word that she is there, our friend Mr. Black will receive a visit from me. Personally.”

  I sounded dead. I sounded collected. I sounded calm. I was blistering on the inside.

  “What is Broken House?” Rhett asked, his voice strangled. His eyes darted back and forth between the two of us. Cash appeared frozen in thought. Not angry and not anything else. Just sort of lost.

  “Broken House,” Adriel seethed, “is a fucking abomination. It’s a hotel within the realm that allows demons to hunt and torture the exotic and special creatures it holds captive there.”

  It was a sickening, if comprehensive explanation.

  I would kill Mr. Black if he laid one fucking hand on her.

  Dean let out a low growl. “I want her out of there. Now.”

  I swallowed. “If they enter into the realm, more importantly the hotel, their souls will become enslaved to the entity that is Broken House. At that point, the only way to destroy its hold on them is to break them out of the property.”

  Cash spoke softly. “I’m assuming that isn’t as easy as it sounds?”

  My eyes closed as I spoke the hard cold truth. “It’s impossible.”

  Chapter 1

  Lorcan

  Who would have guessed that Hell had such good martinis?

  That’s right, folks. I’d been in that damn cell for all of a day before realizing what Hell was all about. Let me tell you, it was fascinating. I am positive that this place was the inspiration for Hotel California because the similarities were uncanny.

  Of course, the place had its limitations but I was finding even them to be rather cushy. At least during the day. But we’d get to that. You see, the entire realm was decorated to look very much like the L.A. strip. Then again, maybe L.A. was made to look like this. Either way, I found myself feeling as though I’d been transported back to the 1960s. Neon signs flashed along the palm lined street. The dusty red sky gave everyone an eerie glow. You’d never guess we were dead center in Hell, specifically in what had been described to me as the “pain” realm.

  My lips touched my martini glass as Cormac lit a cigarette and looked at the front door. Throughout the day, demons came and went through the hotel. Only at night was the door ever locked. Unfortunately, for us prisoners, no such luxury was allowed. We could do whatever the fuck we wanted during the day. Except leave.

  Believe me. I’d tried.

  I’d tried leaving the hotel several times. Every time it had ended in a fuck ton of pain and my magic rebounded back into the lobby. I had no idea how they were keeping us here, but I’d made an attempt each night to search for an answer. So far, I’d only come across a lot of blood and a lot of dead ends. I wish I could tell you I’d tried to save some of the victims I’d come across.

  The truth? I wasn’t a good person. I was saving my energy and magic because they were being drained and I simply prioritised myself and Cormac over them. I’m a bitch, right? Except this was a ruthless place so I couldn’t feel all that bad. I know. You are probably shocked that I am saving myself... or at least trying to.

  The truth? If I took anything away from my bonded, it was that I wanted to live.

  They’d be so fucking proud.

  I sighed. I inhaled once again and shook my head. Would they even know where to look for me? Did they even know where I was? Did they care? I tried to ignore that last thought.

  Broken House was what you’d imagine every 1960s L.A. hotel to look like. The front was a panel of massive glass that allowed copious light through. The carpet beneath us was a flamingo orange and pink, complemented by the velvet couches and tuxedoed waiters. Obviously they knew what they were doing because they continued to drop off drinks and empty our ash trays. The sound of the front desk music was soulful. I tapped my heeled foot. Overall, it was very chill and if it wasn’t for the complete nightmare it turned into at night, I’d enjoy it.

  Unfortunately, at night it was far safer to hide. Broken House wasn’t a normal hotel. No. It was home to a marvelous show. Each night, Mr. Black, the king of this realm, led the guests in a game of sorts. He would introduce us, all of his “pretty puppet” prisoners, and the guests would choose who they would “hunt” for the evening. Fun, right?

  The good news? Cormac and I had been able to distract most of our hunters with what they truly desired. You’d be shocked to find how many people were covering up their own horrors and needs by inflicting pain on others. My eyes traveled to Luke, the older, mute bartender, who every night had provided us a safe place to lead our hunters. My eyes closed as the memory of last night resurfaced.

  My heels hit the soft carpet as I walked over to the foyer bar. Luke offered me a sympathetic expression. I didn’t bother trying to read their desires yet and Cormac didn’t seem very concerned. He had far more depth and understanding into these things. I just had my brain squeezed by star calls every so often. Fun right? No.

  I grabbed a new martini as my brother drank his whiskey. Three men stood in front of us. Their emotions appeared to range from awkward to furious.

  It was clear they’d wanted us to run. Louvres didn’t run.

  “Gentleman.” Cormac smiled as I took a sip of my drink.

  “Why aren’t you running?” one of them demanded.

  “Why run?” I stepped forward as Luke began to play a haunting melody through the speakers. “You don’t really want to hurt us.”

  They didn’t but they seemed confused by this. Most of these demons wanted something neither of us could give them. Love. Acceptance. Honesty. Well, I suppose that one I could but would they even listen? Or would they hear what they wanted? Then! Then, there were the ones that craved pain. Like Momon.

  I gave the three stooges names.

  Mr. Bold stepped forward with a determined glint. “Yes, I do.”

  Cormac shook his head and offered him his drink. “No, you don’t. You don’t even want to be here. You want to be back home. Your work friends won’t even notice you’ve gone. Go home to your wife.”

  His eyes darkened as something insecure flashed across his face. “If they found out I left…”

  “Say you were with me all night,” I suggested.

  The man nodded and walked off. That was one of the better cases.

  “What the fuck was that?” Mr. Angry snapped.

  I turned to him and lifted my hand. A loud scream echoed through the hotel, cut off by a bloody gurgle. The large man, his eyes dark and body shaking with something I didn’t understand, stepped closer. My hand wrapped around his jaw as I infused my compulsion into him. I was glad my brother’s method of manipulation worked for him, but I had less tact.

  “Go upstairs and go to sleep. You aren’t supposed to be here.” I spoke softly with command.

  I saw his focus waver. His body shimmered as if his power could fight me. His voice strangled as he voiced his last protest. “Why did we pay all of this money then?”

  My throat was tight. “You paid to forget heartbreak.”

  I could see it, just like with the man before. It was easy to give them a false sense of acceptance and understanding. My siren purred happily at the concept of helping someone rather than submitting to their twisted minds.

  Then the man hugged me.

  A weird sensation, not quite compassion but very foreign, flickered across my heart. I wrapped my arms around the man as a cold truth filtered over me.

  Everyone here, hunter or prey, was a prisoner of their own heart.

  I watched as he walked away and my brother turned to our true pain lover. Alw
ays one.

  “You’re Drake Alex,” Cormac smiled. “You were close friends with Toris, no?”

  I sneered at the name.

  “Rumor has it he’s dead,” I drawled taking a long sip. The man narrowed his eyes on my lips.

  “It isn’t often a prince of this realm is killed,” the man conceded, “but I heard the same. It would be a loss for all of us.”

  It was all I needed to justify my violence. I walked closer as my siren shivered in protest against his need for pain and violence… except, couldn’t we give him that?

  The martini glass I had shattered over his head.

  He grunted as I grabbed his hair, kicking his knees, and allowed Cormac to slice his throat. He wanted pain? Now he had all of it. I watched as his dark blood stained the carpet and screams echoed around us. My lips pulled into a smile.

  He was the type of demon that deserved to die. We didn’t need more of him.

  Luke had fresh drinks for us as we went back to the bar. The glass smeared a dark red, nearly black, as we watched the body bleed out. Our nights were long but sometimes very satisfying.

  I knew that wouldn’t last though. No. Unfortunately, I could feel the pull on our power like a slow moving drain. I had no idea what was causing it, but it was slowly weakening me and I feared I’d soon have to put up an authentic fight. Something I wanted to avoid.

  “Hello there,” a friendly greeting sounded. A lone man approached us.

  I looked up with curiosity. Cormac outright ignored him. What? Why the fuck would we be nice to anyone trying to hunt us?

  “Do you need something?” I reached over to the table to grab a cigarette, lighting it with an easy flick of my lighter and inhaled deeply. The man’s desire for pain tainted the area with darkness. I couldn’t wait to kill this fucker later. Although, looking up, I realized he didn’t look like our normal pain lovers.

  The man watched my lips carefully. An average demon, sweat dotted his forehead as he tugged on his collar. Ah. We had a nervous one. I offered a stare as I crossed my legs. I had to admit, the fashion here was dated but in the best way possible. I was wearing these adorable pink and green swirled capris with pink heels and a fringe top. Shit like this wasn’t even made anymore. Mr. Black had emphasized that he didn’t give a fuck what we did during the day as long as we didn’t disturb the peace and looked good.