Duron mm paranormal shif.., p.1
Duron: MM Paranormal Shifter Romance (Assassin's To Order Book 3), page 1
Duron
Assassins to Order Book 3
JP Sayle & Lisa Oliver
Copyright
Copyright © JP Sayle and Lisa Oliver, 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover Design by Designs by Lowen (Tina Lowen)
First Edition July 2023
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, Lisa Oliver. Yoursintuitively@gmail.com
No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Lisa Oliver. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.
Ben is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks are owned by the relevant companies and are used for reference purposes in this book only.
Blurb
Two men from different worlds, brought together. One seeks answers to a century-old problem.
The other is running from a destiny he doesn’t want. What does Fate have in store for them?
Duron has wasted too much time dancing to the shifter council’s tune. He has enough on his plate, struggling to let go of a past infatuation. What he needs is an escape, and the offer to go to Paraguay on a hunt fits the bill.
What he doesn’t expect? The new shifter council leader is his mate.
Newly appointed lead Beaumont wants to rid the council of its rotten apples, which include anything connected to the assassin program. When one of those assassins turns out to be his mate, his determination increases.
Except life never goes according to plan. The past is about to intersect with the present.
Can these two new mates handle the truth? Or will the Devil continue to hold all the cards and blow their world apart?
Duron is book three in Assassins to Order series, which is a gritty MM Paranormal Romance. The book includes scenes of graphic violence and intimacies between two alpha males that will make your toes curl.
Dedication
Lisa Oliver
To all our lovely readers, thank you—there’s really nothing else I can say, except you are the rock that holds my world together.
To Holly from Publication Pixie, thank you for the edits, any remaining mistakes are all ours, and to JP—as you do with every book we work on together, you take me on an adventure, I’m never sure I’m going to survive. But somehow, like Beaumont and Duron, I do. Huge hugs my friend.
Jayne Paton
Each book is different and that is what makes it a pleasure. To Hannah, Julie and Mandy for your unwavering support. To Lisa for giving a fan a chance to create magic, you have no idea what a difference you have made to my life 😊
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Other Books by JP Sayle
About the Author JP Sayle
Other Books By Lisa/Lee Oliver
About the Author
Prologue
Beaumont
Two-days ride west of Sacramento – 1871
As his horse reached the crest of the hill just before his home, Beaumont pulled him to a stop, wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He was filthy and nothing he did could get the stench of the smoky train exhaust from his nostrils. But his contract with Central Pacific Rail was finished, at least for three months, and Beaumont was looking forward to spending some serious time with his wife and children.
Eugenie. Beaumont smiled as he looked down at the homestead they had built together, nestled in the valley below. The house was sturdy. Solid. Just like their marriage. Beaumont wasn’t sure who he had to thank for the way Eugenie came into his life, but he was forever grateful.
Eugenie had taken his animal spirit in her stride, even though her own father preached against the perils of ‘demons’ who walked in men’s clothing. She had said nothing about it, raised to be a decent woman in all things. She’d simply packed her bags when Beaumont proposed marriage and hitched her wagon to Beaumont’s life. In the years that followed, she’d blessed him with two sons and a daughter, turning their house into a true home.
“Come on, boy.” Beaumont urged his horse down the hill. Eugenie wouldn’t be expecting him, not that it mattered. She always kept a meal on the fire, and Beaumont’s blood surged as he imagined her helping him with a hot bath. He’d been gone three months—their only contact was the occasional letter. Beaumont always promised he would write to his wife more often, but working on the rail line had been hard and dangerous work. Most free moments Beaumont had, he spent eating or sleeping before they dragged him awake to face the next problem coming his way.
Eugenie would forgive him. She always did. Beaumont imagined her tut-tutting at him in that gentle manner she had as she helped him out of his dirty clothes.
His horse’s hooves clattered loudly over the paving stones she’d insisted on having laid around the back of the house—determined she didn’t want mud tracked onto her spotless wooden floors. The woman was a loving saint in every way, and Beaumont’s salvation. He didn’t like to think of the life he’d led before she showed him how a responsible man should be.
The state of the two-horse stables was the first indication that something was wrong. The old mare Eugenie had to pull the trap she used when she went to town, neighed frantically the moment she saw him. Checking her stall, Beaumont realized she had no water or feed, and her coat looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in a week.
Rather than spend time filling troughs, Beaumont released her and his own beast into the paddock behind the stables. There was rainwater in the trough there, and his concern grew as the mare flew to it as if demented, drinking fast. Looking around, it also surprised him that no one had come out to greet him. On previous homecomings, Eugenie would immediately go into the kitchen to heat water for his tea. And from when his sons could walk, they would both dash out of the house, often forgetting to put their boots on as they couldn’t wait to fling their arms around Beaumont’s legs.
The back door was wide open. There was nothing but ash in the kitchen stove. There were three bowls sitting on the table, spoons resting on the lovingly sanded wood—clean, as if waiting for the evening meal. But there was nothing cooking, and as Beaumont strained his ears, there were no sounds coming from anywhere in the house.
He sniffed, his animal side alert and wary as they picked up a musty metallic smell in the air and then the stench of death wafted over him like a wave.
“Eugenie!” Beaumont yelled, as he raced through the house, tugging at his shirt and the fastenings on his dusty pants. There was mud on his boots—Eugenie would be so disappointed… although, as Beaumont raced into the family room and stopped short at the horrific scene, he knew with the sudden plummet of his heart she would never be disappointed in him again.
There were so many flies. Beaumont let his shift come over him—alligators couldn’t cry, and the last thing Eugenie or baby Victoria needed was tears. Their bodies bloated in the oppressive heat, all Beaumont could hold on to was that the damage done to two fragile human bodies was above the neckline. Little Victoria’s body was still half hidden by her mother, who had tried to protect her passage through into the afterlife.
His thick tail swung around, sending a chair and a small occasional table flying. Beaumont remembered gently teasing Eugenie—what’s the point of an occasional table? What if we want to use it all the time? Eugenie had laughed, patting his arm in that way that always made Beaumont feel special, while he paid for the table she’d asked for. She so rarely asked for anything.
The boys. Where are the boys? His oldest son, Beau, was nine. His younger brother James—named after Eugenie’s deceased brother—was seven, almost eight. One of the reasons Beaumont had pushed his horse so hard to get home early was because it would be James’ birthday in just three days.
His alligator stalked through the
But they hadn’t been safe. Someone had come. More than one person. Stealing into his house while he was away working, murdering his precious wife and his sweet little girl. Victoria was only four. Dead and stinking up the living room, Eugenie carefully swept and dusted every day.
The boys were gone—there was no sign of them anywhere. Beaumont didn’t know whether to be relieved, or terrified for what might’ve happened to them.
Raging through the night, Beaumont waited for the morning to come before burying his sweet wife and daughter. Forgoing the house, Beaumont slept in the stables with the horses on the odd nights he was home, spending every minute he could hunting for the men who’d destroyed his family.
That was until he received word about the small body of a boy found washed up on a beach miles away, three months later. It was Beau. There was still no sign of James anywhere. After burying his son, Beaumont went home, packed a few basic possessions, gave Eugenie’s horse to the neighbor, and laid a fire in the house. The walls were falling under the flames as he rode away.
But Beaumont would never forget. Someone had answers about what happened to his family, and by everything that was holy, Beaumont wouldn’t rest until he found those answers and his family’s tragic deaths were avenged.
~/~/~/~
It took over a hundred years before Beaumont would get even a sniff of a clue about what might have happened to his family. While Beaumont was working on the shifter council, he listened as an unusual man named Marvin spoke in front of a members’ meeting about his friend Riley.
Riley was a young boy who’d been abducted from his murdered mother when he was just a few weeks old. He’d been kept away from his father, who was in the military—the father blackmailed into compromising his position by the promise of Riley’s safety. During a mission, the father finally learned Riley had been dead all along. He’d killed the man who claimed to have strangled baby Riley and thrown his body into the sea. The sea—the same place Beaumont’s son had been found washed up from.
Beaumont remembered thinking how at least Riley’s father had the satisfaction of killing the man who’d taken his son. But Marvin’s story wasn’t finished. Riley was returned, turning up at the father’s hotel like he’d just been out on a playdate—a playdate that lasted six long years.
Beaumont hated how his heart lit up with hope at hearing Riley’s outcome. Maybe now, after all the time that had passed, he could finally get some answers. All he had to do was to make friends with some assassins, apparently. And fortunately, he had plenty of contacts who could help him do that—one in particular. If only the damned man would answer his cell phone.
Chapter One
Duron
Duron sat on the couch and stared at Ajani like he’d lost his mind. “Let’s just recap! You want me and Wyatt to go to Paraguay on some fucking wild goose chase for a shadow that people are too terrified to even mention the dude’s name and so call him the Devil?”
Wyatt, who was standing with his back to Duron, looking out the open window, didn’t show any of what he thought about the situation. They’d arrived back from a trip an hour ago from what was supposed to be a simple job: get in, do the kill, get out. Only it wasn’t.
The council, though they weren’t pulling their strings like they had previously, was still meager with details of the jobs they gave them. This time, those lack of details had nearly cost Wyatt an eye, and Duron continued to feel the ache where the vampire had chewed on his leg. The poor sod had been desperate to feed after his owner thought starving him would make him more compliant.
The target, the owner of an enormous mansion, had several pets, as he referred to them. He’d chemically chained them and abused them repeatedly. Wyatt and Duron agreed it was only right to let those who’d suffered kill the fucker themselves. Slowly. So they’d had to wait for days for the drugs to wear off, and then feed them to help them get back their strength.
Duron didn’t want to think too hard about the bloodbath that ensued after the guys’ captives had given the owner a taste of what he’d done to them. In Duron’s mind, it was nothing less than he deserved, irrespective of how much it twisted his guts into painful knots. He preferred to make any kill as clean as possible.
Marvin came into the room… blooming.
Duron blinked, then rubbed his tired eyes. His heart throbbed in his chest, and he had to look away from what his heart yearned for. It wasn’t for him. Marvin was Ajani’s. Fate had decided, and there was nothing Duron could do about that.
“Duron, are you okay?” Marvin came to him and sat next to him, rubbing a gentle hand up over his arm much like he’d done all the years he visited him when no one was looking.
“I’m fine,” he replied gruffly, creeping his arm away from Marvin’s touch so as not to upset him.
Marvin’s head quirked to the side. “You don’t look it.”
Ajani came closer, and Duron couldn’t take it and rose to give himself some distance between the pair who loved each other. It shone from them when they looked at each other as they were now.
Paraguay right now looks like a good option. His bear was smitten with Marvin, though his bear had always told him Marvin wasn’t meant for them. Duron hadn’t listened.
“What do you think?” Duron asked Wyatt, going to him and looking at his expression to see what his thoughts were. They hadn’t had any downtime in two weeks, and Wyatt had to be as tired as Duron.
“I’ve never been to Paraguay.” Wyatt gave him a slap on the shoulder, his eyes showing sympathy. “I’ll come with you to sort the Devil out. I’m sure we’ll be getting the VIP treatment of the Thalassa private jet.”
Ajani ignored Wyatt. “Are you sure you want to go, Duron? I could ask Conrad or Ekon?”
One look at the couple on the couch, and the answer was easy. “Yeah, I’ll go. I was planning a holiday. Paraguay might be a good place to get lost in for a little while after the job is done.”
Wyatt squeezed his shoulder and walked to Ajani. “Who will be our contact in Paraguay? Ben?”
“Ben’s leaving the council. He stepped down and bought an island near the Thalassa one. Isn’t that cool? They’ll be our neighbors, with me being their family, and you all being my family.” Marvin grinned happily as he stroked his round belly.
“Beaumont is now in charge,” Ajani said. “He’s back in Paraguay, and he wants to deal with the situation himself. He’s staying with Ben’s family, who have been seeking the Devil for some time without success, but they know the most about him.”
What Ajani said didn’t bode well, although Duron kept his thoughts to himself. A trip to the other side of the world was a good thing. It was.
“When can the plane be arranged for?” Wyatt asked before Duron could.
“As soon as you want to leave,” Alexi said, as he came into the room with Marin chattering nonsense in his arms. Duron had spent some time with all the children. He had a thing for children’s laughter. It was the brightest sound and could lift the spirit like nothing else. “I’ve had the plane on standby waiting for your return after the numerous calls from Beaumont wanting to know when you guys were coming.” Alexi chuckled. “The alligator doesn’t appear to have any patience, which is odd considering how they like to do their killing.”
Duron gave a noncommittal nod and took the baby from Alexi when Marin held out his arms, grinning at him, revealing his new teeth. The baby was fond of rubbing at Duron’s cheek, one which Duron could turn into fur with a thought. His bear was the most dominant of the animals who shared his large body. What they’d done to him meant he could randomly shift any part of his body at will. And as Marin’s father, Danik, was a bear, he suspected it was why the baby was drawn to him and liked to rub his furry cheek.
