Talia_Sleeping Beauty Retold Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Talia

  By

  Daniela Jackson

  Sleeping Beauty Retold

  Shadow Immortals MC Book 2

  An Adult Fairytale Romance

  Copyright © 2017 by Daniela Jackson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Content

  Description

  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

  Description

  Micah

  Talia is everything to me.

  She’s my joy.

  She’s my torment.

  She’s my president’s daughter and she’s marked by death like her mother, Rive.

  The ghosts want to keep us apart, but I’ll fucking kill them all.

  *****

  Kadmiel and Rive’s daughters grow up and the saga continues.

  Explicit and dark content that may not be suitable for some readers. For adult audiences.

  Planned Books:

  Shadow Immortals MC Book 3

  Amaia: Red Riding Hood Retold

  Adva: Snow Queen Retold

  Chapter 1

  Micah

  I can see her kneeling by one of the medieval gravestones, her black wings shimmery against the storm clouds that layer the sky. A gust of wind lifts a few tendrils of her long almond hair like she’s underwater.

  “Talia,” I say softly so as not to scare her.

  She doesn’t react. The wind sweeps past the gravestones as the branches of the old oak tree move like enormous limbs. The leaves rustle their autumnal song.

  “Talia,” I say louder.

  She turns her face to me, her black eyes wide, clearly imperceptive. Tears trickle down her pale cheeks.

  “Talia, sweetheart, I’m here. I’m taking you home.”

  “They’re whispering, Micah.” A gasp follows her every word. “They’re whispering horrible things.”

  Anger wells up in my chest. Ghosts have been whispering to Talia her whole life, never giving her a moment of peace. Now, at the age of eighteen, she’s just the tormented shadow of a girl.

  “If I could, I’d fucking kill them all, baby girl,” I say as a sharp pain squeezes my heart.

  Talia grabs her head in both her hands and sobs as I rush towards her, my boots sinking into the moss covering the ground.

  The smell of rain, rot, and soil settles in my nostrils. A snap of lightning crosses the sky as I lean over her and hook her under her arms. She feels so light and fragile, my poor little treasure.

  “They told me to stay away from you,” she gasps as her face turns white—it’s almost a corpse-like whiteness, and her body trembles.

  I scoop her up in my arms, her wings sweeping the autumnal leaves away from the gravestones.

  “Ignore them,” I say with anger as I draw her closer to me and the sound of her rapid heartbeat breaks my own heart.

  The ghosts started whispering this message to her over a year ago. I don’t know why they keep saying this to her. None of us knows why. Neither Rive, nor Kadmiel. Not even Adva we asked for a piece of advice.

  At first, I thought about leaving the club to check whether this would calm those voices seeping into Talia’s head. But, when I left, Talia was even worse without me. Kadmiel found me two months later and brought me back home.

  Now I’m here for her whenever she needs me.

  It’s fucking ridiculous. The ghosts whisper to her that she should stay away from me, but their voices diminish when she’s close to me. I’m her only relief. I’ve always been.

  When she was a little girl, she demanded that I played with her. I taught her the basics of fighting with a sword. I taught her maths. I was her one and only friend. I still am.

  The wind smacks us like an enormous palm and lifts the light fabric of her pale blue dress, exposing her slim white thighs. She doesn’t pay attention, but I do. I noticed her thighs a few months ago. I also noticed her full lips and perfect breasts. I drown in her mysterious eyes each time our glances meet. I shouldn’t, but I do.

  I approach my motorcycle parked by the metal fence encircling the graveyard and sit Talia on it.

  “Hide your wings, baby girl,” I say.

  Her big eyes glance up at me as her long black eyelashes flutter and her wings disappear with a rustle.

  Talia is the only angel among Kadmiel’s daughters. Yara, Kai, and Murray are mermaids. The girls are happy teenagers, but Talia is like a ghost—her mind is occupied in the timeless space between life and death almost all the time.

  The resurrection Kadmiel and the club performed many years ago left Rive almost untouched, but Talia is like a living reminder of what we did against the order.

  I jump on the bike as Talia wraps her arms around my chest, her fingers digging into my flesh.

  “Hold on to me, baby girl.” I rev up the engine. “We’re going home.”

  We ride for two hours then I stop along the path leading to the front door of our clubhouse and scoop Talia up in my arms. Her fingers clutch the edges of my leather cut and she buries her face into my neck. Her hot breath sends heat into my dick. It shouldn’t, but it does each time I carry her like this. It’s been like this since she turned eighteen and I realised she was a young woman not a kid. I kick the door open with my boot and step inside. Kadmiel rises from the black couch.

  “One package safely delivered home, Prez,” I say.

  “Where did you find her?” Kadmiel asks.

  His face doesn’t betray any emotions but I know he’s very worried about Talia.

  “In the graveyard,” I say, “as always.”

  Theo sweeps his concerned eyes over Talia and leaves the clubhouse. He can’t stand when she’s in such bad shape.

  “It’s very bad, Dad,” Talia squeaks.

  “You just need a proper rest, sweetheart,” Kadmiel says and looks at me. “Can you stay with her?”

  “No problem, Prez,” I say.

  I see Rive emerging from the kitchen, her glassy emerald eyes sliding over Talia. “Are y
ou hungry, sweetheart?”

  “No, Mom,” Talia murmurs. “I just want to sleep.”

  I rush towards the metal stairs leading to the bedrooms. I climb at a fast pace, taking the steps two, three at a time, then I kick the door of Talia’s bedroom open and walk in. I lay her on the metal-framed bed and pull the violet curtains together then drop into the antique armchair. My hand travels to her head and I stroke it gently.

  “Sleep,” I say. “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

  “It will never be better,” Talia says with anger.

  “Sleep.”

  She salutes me and rolls on her side. “Stay until I’m asleep.”

  “As always, baby girl.”

  Talia

  It’s better when I’m asleep. I have dreams about a beautiful land inhabited by magical creatures. The moment I open my eyes I’ll be dead again, surrounded by ghosts and their whispers. They’ll torture me with their pain, regret, and fear. They’re the souls of the people who committed suicide or died unexpectedly in an accident. Or those murdered, by serial killers for instance. Those torment me the most.

  I always tell them to go farther, but some of them struggle to accept their death. Sometimes, they’ll take possession of me entirely and I find myself in the graveyard.

  They make me sick, but I can’t cut them off. I teeter on the edge of mental breakdown. Only Micah gives me some relief.

  “You want a glass of water or something?” Micah asks, his voice soft, laced with huskiness.

  I’m his favourite kid in our family. My sisters are sometimes jealous, but they know how much I need him around me.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  I’m a half-ghost after all, half-dead. I was marked by death in my mom’s belly when my dad resurrected her after demons had killed her. And me—I was in her womb when a demon slit her throat.

  We both should be dead. But we aren’t. I can turn into a grey shimmery mist if I want to. I don’t want to though. I’ve tried a few times and the world of the dead almost swallowed me. I was one of them then—a shadow enveloped by timelessness. A shadow witnessing my mom’s death over and over again.

  My living part doesn’t need much food or water, but I love eating and cooking. I love cooking for Micah and the rest of us.

  Micah removes his cut and throws it over the backrest then sinks deeper into the armchair, his knees splayed. I see the ebony glow of his skin. It reminds me of the black glassy ocean on a cloudless night. His skin looks like coffee in the sunshine.

  “One day you’ll have to leave,” I say.

  It just pours out of me like I can’t hold my fears on a leash any longer.

  “What?” He sounds like I have torn him out of a nap and he rubs his palm against the front of his grey t-shirt.

  His perfect muscles bulge under his dark skin. He is all muscle. I’m like a dwarf compared to him.

  “I mean, maybe one day you’ll start a family or something,” I say and roll my eyes for fun.

  “I’ll take you with me.”

  “Your future wife will be jealous.”

  The thought of a woman touching him makes me angry for some mysterious reason. I’ve never seen him with a woman, but I know there have been women in his life. The boys sometimes gossip when they think nobody can eavesdrop on them.

  I can move like a ghost. I know all the secrets of the clubhouse.

  Micah’s full kissable lips curl into a smile then he bursts into laughter. I’ve always loved that honest outburst of his.

  “Why are you thinking about it anyway?” he asks and rests his elbows against his knees.

  “Well, you’re my medicine and I need you.”

  “Your medicine, you’re saying? That’s fucking interesting.” He glides his palm over his shaved head.

  I hold my weight up on my elbow and shrug. “My very own medicine. My private medicine.”

  “Your very own medicine, huh?” His amber eyes lock onto mine, burning like never before. “So what am I supposed to do now? Warm you up?”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I cringe into myself.

  Chapter 2

  Micah

  What the fuck is happening? Is she fucking flirting with me or what? She’s never talked to me like this. Her voice has never been so, I don’t know, sultry.

  “Well…” Talia’s voice falters and it makes me angry for some mysterious reason.

  “If I’m going to be your long-term treatment, you have to give me more precise instructions.”

  “Keeping me warm and sane will be enough.”

  “You’d have to move into my place.”

  She huffs out. “You’d have to marry me first.”

  At first, I’m stunned then thoughts flash through my mind. It’s not such a bad idea. It would solve all her problems.

  I wink at her. “I’ll think about it.”

  Talia winks back and extends her arm towards me. I hold her hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing her knuckles. She emits a joyful chuckle and some dark force spreads in my veins. I yank her hand and she jumps off the bed, swaying. I yank her hand again and she sighs as I sit her on my lap. She curls into my chest.

  I hold her chin and tip her face up to mine. “You know good girls shouldn’t talk to men like this.”

  “How do you know I’m a good girl?”

  “You’re a very good girl, Talia.” I inhale her hot breath like it’s mine.

  “And you’re a very bad man.”

  “You shouldn’t flirt with me.” Her sweet and spicy scent clouds my mind as blood boils inside of me.

  “You shouldn’t hold me on your lap.”

  She’s right.

  I shouldn’t touch her as a man would touch a woman, but here we are, sitting like lovers, gazing at each other with passion. My arms wrap around her chest and hers wrap around my neck.

  “I can’t hear them at all,” Talia murmurs.

  “That’s wonderful, baby girl.”

  She rearranges her body so she straddles me, her knees pressed against my hips.

  My heart flutters at the thought she’ll discover what she’s doing to me at the moment and I want to shove her off my lap, but, a second later, I realise I just want her to sit on my thighs forever. I want her to rub herself against my hard on. I want to have her impaled on my dick. I want her to ride me.

  Her breath brushes against my ear. “You’re hard for me.” Her voice falters.

  “I’m very hard for you, baby.”

  I hook the back of her neck with my hand and hold her head in place. Then I slam my lips on hers. She yelps into my mouth and her fingers dig into my shoulders. I part her lips with my tongue and devour that sweet mouth of hers.

  Talia

  A light knocking on the door makes me shudder. I jump off Micah’s lap and lie down on my bed. The door creaks open and a slim figure walks in.

  “Grandma,” I squeak and sit up, cross-legged.

  Adva sweeps her eyes over Micah then over me and clears her throat. “Everything fine here?” There is a pinch of sarcasm in her voice.

  “I’m fine, grandma,” I say.

  Adva crosses the bedroom, her immortal body dancing almost above the red carpet spread on the concrete floor. With a graceful sweep of her tiny hand, she throws her long black hair down her back and perches on my bed. Her eyes bore through Micah as she runs her knuckles up and down my cheek.

  “You look surprisingly well,” Adva says as something mischievous flickers in her cobalt eyes. “Not as pale as usual.”

  Adva has been living with us since forever. My mom summoned her after she’d given birth to Yara. Adva took her grandma duties very seriously; she moved in and never mentioned anything about moving out. She’s sarcastic, prying, and the best grandma I could wish for.

  “And you, Micah,” Adva says. “You look like you’ve just won a million dollars.”

  Micah scratches his head. “What can I say?”

  “You’d better say nothing,” Adva says, making Micah widen his
eyes. “And you must finally sleep.” The words of a lullaby drift from her mouth. It’s an ancient mermaid song Adva used to sing to my mom.

  My eyes grow heavy and I drop off to sleep.

  Micah

  This ancient mermaid stares at me like I have just perpetrated a crime on her family.

  “She’s asleep,” Adva whispers. “You can go now.”

  She raises herself, leans towards me and grabs my elbow. We walk out of Talia’s bedroom and go downstairs.

  “Talia’s grown,” Adva says.

  “Yeah, she has grown.”

  My eyes sweep over the bar counter and unoccupied couches. Sabrael and Zarall are doing business; Theo must be on guard and Kadmiel is probably enjoying Rive. The girls have to study in their bedrooms in the evenings. Our club is very strict when it comes to their upbringing and education. We want our precious little gems to be intelligent young women.

  Women. That word hits me. They were just babies not so long ago.

  Adva yanks my elbow and I growl with irritation. I miss my wings and my powers in such moments. Adva would respect me more if I was an angel. Now that I’ve lost my wings, she thinks she can treat me like a naughty little boy. I bet she has a lot of fun at our expense.

  “Hurry, pretty boy,” she says. “It’s our turn to check all the spells around the compound tonight.”

  Right. The spells.

  We buy them on the black market from the blackest of black witches. We used to kill those bitches, but now we have to trade with them.

  We walk out of the clubhouse and part. I immerse myself into the humid air of the woods around the compound. Every spell must be intact in order to make us invisible for the angels and demons hunting us. Cold pricks my skin as I bend every ten steps and check every small mound formed by stones, bones and soil. About twenty minutes later, I see Adva meandering among the trees.

  “Everything seems fine,” I say.

  She nods at me. “We’ll have to buy more in two, three months.”

  “You fancy going to the black market with me?”

  She raises her hands in a warding gesture. “I despise witches so no, thank you. But you can always join me at night, pretty boy.”

  This is not an indecent proposition.