Nitara Read online

  Copyright © 2018 Caged Fantasies Publications

  Written by Jessica Cage

  Edited by There for You Editing Services

  Cover design by Solidarity Graphics

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1724998919

  ISBN-13: 978-1724998910

  To the readers who recently filled my heart with such joy. Growing up I always wanted to see myself represented in the stories I loved. I have been overwhelmed by the recent support and gratitude that I have gotten for daring to represent characters of color in such a bold way.

  To that little girl out there, dripping in melanin and immersed in the world of fantasy, you too can be a vampire, fairy, or a dragon, ... you can be it all!

  Thank you for picking up a copy of Nitara, the second book of the Djinn Rebellion series. I know you’re going to love it! As a show of my gratitude, and excitement to have you as a reader, I have a special gift waiting at the end of this book!

  Happy Reading!

  JESSICA CAGE

  Wind lifted her hair, separating thick tresses into wild strands that reached out into the air behind her as the chill of an approaching winter caressed her skin. She pulled the leather jacket tighter around her full figure as the beacon just a few miles away from her location pulsed. It was a continued demand for her presence. The closer her proximity, the stronger it became, though increasing the distance wouldn’t have allowed her to outrun it. Patience was a virtue, but it was one that the eternal pain in her ass didn’t have in his possession. Not that it mattered when she considered that time was quickly running out—soon enough, the full strength behind the magical chokehold would return and drag her right back to the last place she wanted to be. Still, risking the pain of the resurgence of his power over her, she stood atop the hill, looking down on Reverie, a city filled with vampires, and other underbelly types who could find no safe place in the rest of the world. This unsettling place was her home now, whether she liked it or not. Her heart ached as she considered what returning to him really meant for her.

  There was a tightness in her chest, a sorrow that was only echoed by her hatred of the place she watched. Because of her connection to Reverie, she had to walk away from the love of her life, Jinn. She’d only just gotten him back, and for the blip of time that the universe allowed for them to be in each other’s arms, she was happier than she could ever remember being. Eyes closed, she erased the view in front of her as she called to memory the sight of his face above her own. The concern and love that marked his expression as he looked down on her both warmed her heart and caused it to ache more. In all of the time they’d spent apart, there wasn’t much that had changed about him. Yeah, he had a different hairstyle, but the face she was met with was the one that had always belonged to her. If she could have she would have stayed with him, wrapped in the infinite embrace that was his love. That wasn’t a possibility because from the moment she opened her eyes, her new captor was alerted. It was barely a breath of a moment before she was called to return to his side.

  The hardest thing she ever had to do was tell Jinn that she couldn’t stay with him. Especially after all that he’d just gone through to save her from Daegal, a warlock who’d made a deal with the devil and exchanged his soul for the magic he’d used to turn two former witches into immortal djinns. Daegal robbed Jinn and Nitara of their lives together countless times before, and it seemed even in his death, he’d succeeded in doing it yet again. Wrapped in his sheets, she laid there, silent, and listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat, the calming rhythm of his breath, and before her eyes opened, she came to terms with the knowledge that she would have to break his heart. Jinn loved her like no one else had before, and like no one else ever would. Even after centuries had passed he still cared enough for her to face the depths of hell and bring her back from its fiery clutches.

  The only way she could think to keep Jinn from following her was to tell him that she was leaving by her own choice. Any other explanation and he would have tried to come after her. Without a doubt, she knew that he would have made another attempt at a rescue mission. She would have loved him for it, but there was a difference this time around. He couldn’t save her, regardless of his efforts—he would fail, and it would crush him a thousand times over. She couldn’t allow that. It was Nitara’s turn to be the protector, and by breaking his heart, in the most twisted way possible, it meant saving his life. This wasn’t something she could ever be saved from. Thanks to the bastard who made her what she was, she was stuck, and her new master was pulling her strings. She sighed as the cool air brushed against her skin, setting in a chill that seemed to bring emphasis to the feeling of walking away from not only her love, but her freedom.

  “Nitara, it seems you finally decided to come back to me.” The ego dripped voice of a narcissist echoed off the high ceilings and trilled in her ear. At least someone could take pleasure in the moment of her return. The sour faces of the other guests awaiting her, told that he was the only one. Not so shockingly, the lord of all who sucked was exactly where she expected to find him—ass sitting comfy in his gaudy throne that was perched atop an elaborately accented, grand staircase. The oversized seat was framed in gold and silver; the same material lacing the banisters that reached down to her, an extension of the host, welcoming her home. At the top of the headrest was a large medallion stamped with an image of the letters ‘V’ and ‘T’. V for Reverie, the city of vampires, and T for the tyrant that ruled it, Tyrellis.

  “As if I really had any other choice?” She sneered as she passed his flunkies—vampires who looked as if they’d had way too much blood which was likely laced with something much more toxic. This half-drugged state was the only way they could tolerate being around her without showing just how much her presence terrified them. Her arrival meant that the ego maniac at the top of the stairs was once again more powerful than any one vampire had ever been.

  “We both know that there's always a choice.” Tyrellis stood from his seat and his wiry frame became lost beneath the heavy fabric of the gold cape draped over his shoulders. The only thing that could’ve made him look more ridiculous was if he’d added a crown. He would have, if not for the urging of his wife to refrain from the tacky addition. In reality, he was no king. Blond hair fell in his eyes before he pushed the strands back into place, tucked tightly behind his ear. “Of course, that choice would mean a lot of pain for you. I don't want you to be in any pain, Nitara.” His concern for her was as shallow as his personality. If she wasn’t so valuable to his existence, he’d walk over her just like he had done to so many other people.

  “Oh, please spare me the dramatics, Tyrellis.” Steps forced by magic carried her up the staircase and past more drugged out vampires who lay out on the gold trimmed steps. Tyrellis’ home was more of a gothic cathedral. Gaudy statues lined the main entrance with pillars that held up a high ceiling decorated in painted depictions of bloodlust. And that was nothing more than the entrance to a property that took up one hundred acres of prime land. Each wing, and there were numerous, had a different theme. Whenever the vampire leader got into another phase of his life, he would simply wish that she produce a space to commiserate it. The last addition to the territory was covered in purple crushed velvet in honor of the human singer, Prince. Tyrellis had become nostalgic for a time that was centuries in the past. Playing at all hours were hits from the singer, and if anyone entered without dancing, they were to be flogged, a ridiculous rule that was rarely enforced, and not just because no one ever ventured into the space. “Must everything be such a grand production with you? I mean you called me, you knew I didn't want to be here, and yet here I am, because I have no other choice. Let's not pretend that this is a friendly visit, or my ha
ppy return to the blood den.”

  “Visit? Well, it’s definitely not a visit, my Nitara. No, not this time. You’ve returned to me, and you’re right where you belong. This time it’s permanent, so no, I see no point in pretending otherwise.” He paced the floor in small circles and kicked aside the women who lay at his feet. “Now that Daegal is gone, there’s absolutely nothing that can take you away from me. You’re mine now and forever!” He opened his arms to her as she continued to ascend the steps against her will. “Come to me.”

  The final steps separating her reluctant body from his eager one disappeared beneath her feet, and she found herself in his arms wrapped inside of the cold darkness that was his soulless body. She sighed, welcoming the return of a punishment that she didn’t deserve, and one that would never end. Daegal wanted to prove a point, and he done that. She wouldn’t be with the love she desperately longed for … instead, she would waste away as a djinn tied to a vampire by the darkest tethers of magic.

  Nitara wished that a life surrounded by bloodsuckers could be anything besides the stereotypical imaginings that most had come to expect. Unfortunately, it was just that. Once again, her daily life was an overflow of sex, bloodlust, and incessant whining. It wasn’t just their egocentric personalities or their inability to lift a spoon to their lips without celebrating the act as if they’d invented the lightbulb. It was that nothing was ever good enough. Every ridiculous show was immediately reduced to mediocrity and replaced by one that was even more outlandish. And Nitara had the pleasure of being the one to make it all magically come to fruition!

  The parameters of the post-apocalyptic world made it all the more agreeable for the vampires to live their lives. No longer were they in hiding, the things that go bump in the night. When magic was unveiled to the human world, none were more thrilled than the vampires. Quickly, they took over the night, terrifying the human population. That was, until the fae stepped in. True beings of the night, the fae were determined to take it back. Though they were neutral in the war, they took on the battle with the vampires. Their dirty deeds were starting to affect the magic of the night. After a year of the vampires having free range to terrorize their prey, the stench of fear and evil clung to the air. The moment the sun escaped the sky, the world turned into a haunting place.

  Fae magic being fueled by the moon, their magic was stronger when it shone, but the result of the rise in vampire activity began to affect that connection. Vampires were beings made of a powerfully dark magic, quite like the djinn were. Whenever they were especially active, that magic moved into play. Still, they weren’t strong enough to take on the fae. The outcome of the dispute between the two races was Reverie. The end of the short battle resulted in Vampires being given a defined territory where they could live their lives as freely as they wanted, yet if they got too out of hand, the fae were there to remind them. A head was put in place to regulate their activities and insure their continued survival. Tyrellis was currently that head.

  No matter what wish Nitara granted for the vampires, it was never enough. After far too many failed attempts, she gave up on the hope of trying to make any of them happy and learned that the best she could expect was that they would be placated long enough for her to get a decent night’s sleep. Humans were much easier to please. She missed their simple requests. They wanted only enough to fulfill a single lifetime, not a thousand endless lives. With vampires, the wishes got more frivolous, and more ridiculous with time.

  Her boots smacked against the hardwood floor of the bar, as she monitored the tipsy population that was holed up inside. This was one of her duties, vampire babysitter. She was Tyrellis’ eyes and ears, meant to keep the peace and make sure that none of the children did anything that would break the pact with the fae. Though she moved freely through the space, no one acknowledged her presence. By design, the vamps only saw her when she wanted them to. The best watch dog was one that could go unnoticed. At the far end of the bar, sipping on a glass of thick, red liquid, was someone who’d become a regular at the bar. Frequently she spotted him there in the same position where he kept a close eye on the other vamps who patronized the establishment.

  Unlike the others, he wasn’t a member of the central nest that dwelled in the capital of Reverie. He was an outsider, one of those who refused to accept Tyrellis as their leader. If not for Nitara, his opposers would have challenged his position the moment he tried to take over. Instead, those who stood against him lived away from the main cities. Most assumed they were plotting, trying to devise a way to get to Tyrellis. It was because of these rumors that Nitara was often sent to the outskirts on recon missions. If any of the other rebels were to visit the local bar, they would have been ripped to pieces and their dismembered limbs shipped back to the camps. But not Graham. His reputation was one that allowed him access to areas which would otherwise be off limits to outsiders. It also helped that he was one of the oldest vampires around and most of the others didn’t stand a chance against him in a fair fight.

  “You’re back.” The baritone voice of the dark eyed man sitting at the end of the bar carried over the blues music that set the edgy yet relaxed tone of the setting.

  “Yeah,” she sighed and walked over to join him, claiming a stool for herself. She conjured up a drink of her own, something that didn't contain chromosomes from the local farmer.

  “Couldn't stay away, huh?” He lifted his glass to hers, and gave a toast to her return from the unknown.

  “From this place? Never!” Her sarcastic response was punctuated by the sound of her glass as it clinked against his, before the hot shot of whisky traveled down her throat.

  “Why do you hang around here?” He glanced over his shoulder where he eyed the scarce collection of drunkards. The overweight man in the corner belched, scratched his belly, and winked at him. “There has to be somewhere else a djinn like you would prefer to be.”

  “You always ask me that.” She smiled. It was the same question every time they met. Graham was prying, but why? She laughed as two women entered, giggling before they spotted her. With bucked eyes and descended fangs, they stopped in their tracks, and quickly turned to exit the bar. “How could I ever dream of missing the grand reception I get from the locals?”

  “Ah, they just don’t know what great company you make!” He sipped from his drink again. “Regarding my question, is there any chance that I’ll get an answer this time?”

  “Do I ever give you an answer?” She tilted her head and caught his smile from the corner of her eye. “What would make today any different?”

  “I suppose, absolutely nothing.” He shook his head and laughed at her expression. “Though, it is unseasonably warm out.”

  “Unfortunately, the temperature has no bearing on my decision making!” She ran her finger along the rim of her glass and the empty vessel was full again. “But feel free to keep asking. I know that you will.”

  “Of course, I will! Just call me a hopeful fool.” He tapped the bar to signal for another refill of his drink. “One of these days, you just might give in and tell me.”

  “Keep hope alive.” She lifted her freshly filled glass to his again before knocking back a second shot.

  “You better take it easy.” He sipped his drink slowly. “Can’t be drunk on your first day back in action.”

  “Trust me, I am.” After all she’d been through, she wanted a lot more than a couple of shots of whiskey, but it wasn’t the time to drink away her woes … at least, Tyrellis didn’t think so. So, of course, that meant she couldn’t partake.

  “Can I at least ask where you’ve been? I’ve missed seeing that somber face of yours around here,” Graham dug in again as he tried to pull information from her. Nitara was used to his incessant questioning, it was what made him interesting. He was the only one she’d encountered who had enough balls to ask such bold questions of her.

  “No place special.” No, she hadn’t been anywhere worth bragging about. Just locked away in a dungeon, bound by the wi
shes of an asshole, and made to do terrible things that she would never be able to forget.

  “One of these days you’re going to let me in.” He picked up the black cowboy hat that sat on the bar next to him and placed it on his head. Sensing the bullshit that was coming, Graham decided it was time for him to leave. He stood from the barstool and allowed his stocky height to tower over her.

  Nitara turned her head, lifting her ear to the sound of an engine roaring outside of the door. “Yeah, one of these days.” She smirked and abandoned her own seat.

  “Later, hot stuff.” The vampire grinned as he watched her cross the room until her figure faded to nothing. Nitara was planning a surprise entrance for the new arrivals. Laughing at the poor souls who would have to face her, he made his exit from the bar. Things were about to get sticky and the last thing he wanted was to be around to witness any of it.

  The rowdy group fell through the doors. Each member was already overly intoxicated, but the group wanted more. This was what she’d come to expect from most of the vampires who frequented the bars. They were self-indulgent and had no sense of personal limits. Nitara remained cloaked in the shadows, as she watched them make complete fools of themselves. The bartender frowned as two of the drunken goofs fell onto the bar and knocked a bowl of cherries onto the floor. Without so much as an apology, they pounded on the bar and demanded service. The leader of their group—a tall, blond moron—laughed as he boasted about their latest roguish deeds.

  “It’s only a matter of time, boys!” he yelled as the previous patrons began to leave. They wanted nothing to do with the chaos the group would undoubtedly cause. “Tyrellis is going down!”

  “How many times have you said that shit, man? Cast, give it up! Tyrellis is the king and you’re here drinking and dreaming with the rest of us,” another smaller vampire with short, dark hair and eyes too big for his face joked.