Read Elite (Eagle Elite) Online
Authors: Rachel Van Dyken
Tags: #organized crime, #mature young adult, #New adult, #contemporary romance
Elite (Eagle Elite) (27 page)
What felt like hours later, Phoenix awoke, screaming in pain. Nixon had contacted Phoenix’s father and asked him to meet us at the site.
Dean De Lange walked in and swore. “Phoenix, what have you done?”
“Yes.” Nixon sneered. “What have you done?”
Phoenix smirked. Blood stained his teeth where he had been punched repeatedly. “You think you can silence me?” He laughed. “Father, guess who our little Tracey is? You should know, after all, you killed her parents.”
“What?” Mr. De Lange paled and gaped at his son. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s over. And I’m not stupid.” Phoenix spat. “You set them up. I know everything and now they do too.”
“I didn’t—” his father repeated, but his words were silenced, by the crack of a gun. I gasped as he fell to the ground, blood was everywhere. I looked to Nixon, but he seemed just as shocked as me. But Grandpa, he wasn’t shocked at all. In fact, he was the one aiming the gun.
“It is over,” Grandpa said hoarsely.
Phoenix laughed from his position on the ground, blood trailing down his chin. “Oh, it’s far from over… you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“Killed the man who murdered my son!” Grandpa yelled.
“I lied.” Phoenix grinned. “And now you’ll never know. By the way, congratulations on killing the one man standing in the way of making me the boss. You just bought me my freedom.”
“Like hell he did!” Nixon stepped forward, but Grandpa held out his hand to stop him.
“War is coming,” Faust said from behind me.
“The Sicilians are coming.” Phoenix laughed from the ground.
“God help us all.” Chase swore and tugged me out of the room, swearing in Sicilian the entire way.
Chapter
Thirty-four
I didn’t hear from Nixon all the next day. Chase was eerily quiet as he walked me back to my room. For once I was okay with him having his gun out as he searched around me for any sort of sketchy person.
Once we reached my room, I asked. “War? And the Sicilians?”
Chase swore. I’d never seen him freaked out, but he looked about ten seconds away from losing it. “Our family — we’ve been in charge of keeping the peace for over a hundred years, Trace. Your grandfather just shot the De Lange mob boss in cold blood, who the hell knows what’s going to happen to Phoenix? We either have to kill him or buy his silence. You can’t just go around shooting people.”
“Yeah, got that part. But aren’t you the mafia, I mean—”
Chase swore. “Trace, listen, you clearly don’t understand. You don’t want the Sicilians here. Hell, I don’t even want them in Sicily. If they come, and if they find out everything that’s been happening. Shit!” He kicked the bed.
“But they won’t find out. I mean who’s going to tell?”
Chase looked at me like I was insane. “Trace, did you see all the men in there? Do you realize how desperate some of them are for money or to get on the good side of one of the originals? You can’t control people, and you sure as hell can’t keep them from looking out for themselves.”
“What does this mean, for… for all of us?” I asked, numbly sitting on the bed.
“It means we face them. Together,” a voice said from the door. I gasped and looked up. Nixon was sporting a black eye and bloody lip.
“What happened?”
Nixon shook his head and winced. “Don’t worry about it. Pack your stuff, you’re leaving.”
“Leaving?”
He ignored me and looked at Chase. “Get a bag?”
“Hold on one second!” I threw my hands into the air. “You can’t just make me leave!”
“Trace.” Nixon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your grandfather and I decided it’s safer for you to be with me at all times. I can’t exactly shimmy into your dorm at all hours without people finding out. It’s just not safe.”
“So I’m going to be a prisoner in my grandfather’s home?”
“Of course not.” Nixon smiled. “You’re going to be a prisoner in mine.”
Chase snorted.
“What was that?” Nixon snapped at Chase.
“Air. I coughed. Found a bag.” He handed Nixon my small duffel and saluted me. “Love ya, Trace. I’ll be waiting at Nixon’s. I think it’s best if we all pow-wow together.”
“Okay.” I waved goodbye and turned back to Nixon. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Probably.” He pulled me into his arms and sighed. “I can’t lose you again.”
I started crying softly. When had things gotten so screwed up? “I’m scared.”
“I’ll be scared with you,” Nixon murmured, repeating what I told him when I was six. “I’ll be scared until you aren’t scared anymore, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And I’ll save you from all of it, Trace. I promise.”
“That’s stupid.” I laughed into his chest. “Boys can’t save girls.”
“You’re right.” He kissed my temple. “It’s the other way around, because you saved me, Trace. You saved me when you were six and you’re saving me now.”
“By doing what?”
“Staying alive… and allowing me to rescue you.”
“Stupid girls. We always need rescuing.”
“Stupid boys, we always jump at the chance to do it.”
“I love you.” I kissed his lips softly.
“I love you too,” he said kissing me back. “Now, let’s pack. It looks like we’ll have plenty of time to slumber party in the next few months.”
“Yay.” I rolled my eyes.
“And…” Nixon grinned shamelessly. “Maybe we’ll find some time to work on that whole goal you have before you die.”
“What goal?”
“The goal.” He eyed me up and down. “You know, about not dying a virgin.”
“Ass.” I threw a pillow at him and laughed.
“Hey, I’m just offering to help with the bucket list!”
Monroe burst into the room. “Is it true?” She looked between me and Nixon and back at Nixon again.
He nodded.
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They’re going to come for all of us.”
“I know.” Nixon walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “But we’ll be ready.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He held her hand and reached out to me. We hugged together and began packing the rest of our room up. It was going to be a long night, but not near as long as the rest of the school year was going to be. Whoever said life was boring clearly didn’t go to Eagle Elite.
The End
Stay tuned for a sneak peek of the sequel…
Elect.
Elect
Book 2 (Elite)
Prologue
I gauged her reaction, hoping that I was wrong. Hoping to God that Trace would just this once listen to me. Her eyes flickered with interest for a few brief seconds before she looked down at the ground.
Shit.
I waited in the shadows. A part of me knew this would happen. The part that told me to damn my feelings to hell and heed all the warning signs I’d been seeing. But now it seemed like it was too late. I stayed, planted where I was, watching, waiting.
“Chase, you can’t…” Trace shook her head. “You can’t be like this. We can’t do this!”
“We aren’t doing anything,” Chase said in low tones, reaching for Trace’s hand. “Don’t you?” He looked directly at me, though all he saw was a shadow, I knew I was well hidden. “Don’t you feel the same way?”
Trace jerked her hand away from Chase’s. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. It’s not about me, Chase.”
“But it is.” Chase reached for her again. This time her hand grasped his in such an intimate embrace I thought I was going to vomit all over the ground. The outside air was cold as hell. Little pieces of ice tried to find their way into my wool coat.
“It isn’t.” Trace sighed. “It never was.”
Chase jerked her towards him. She fell against his chest and looked up into his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done a long time ago.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips touched.
I had to look away.
The only sound in the night was that of my soft footsteps as I walked away… leaving my heart in broken pieces where I last stood. She was lost to me, and it wasn’t even the Sicilians who had taken her. It was my best friend.
Want more good books similar to Elite? Check out Astraea Press’s debut author, Wendy Knight. Her new book Feudlings is now available!
Feudlings
Wendy Knight
“Shane, I’m tougher than I look. I can handle it,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more about his magic than she already did. It could get him in trouble. But she couldn’t just leave it alone. Part of her wanted to know. Maybe the monster-killer part of her.
She squashed that thought.
Shane stopped, studied her. Under his intense blue gaze her heart started to pound and she thought giddily that her favorite color just happened to be the exact color of his eyes. What were the odds? “I’m serious, Ari. There’s this war going on, and knowing anything about it could get you killed.”
“Killed?” Ari tried to look dubious.
Shane glanced around and grabbed her hand, pulling her with him out the front doors. The air was crisp and cool; Ari could see traces of her breath. If Shane was aware that half the student population was watching them speed-walk into the woods, he didn’t show it, and after a final glance back Ari ignored them too.
When the school was out of sight, she stopped and pulled her hand away. “Okay Shane. Spill,” she commanded. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look cold. Normals would be cold right now, but because of the flames flowing through their blood, neither she nor Shane could feel it.
Shane sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Where to start? Even the short version is long. We’re sorcerers, and there are two sides to this war… of course, because that’s what makes a war, right?” he rambled. Ari raised an eyebrow at him as she tried to shiver. “I’m a Carules. I have magic that stems from these blue flames that, well, they’re in my blood. Hunter, too. And all other Carules. The other side is Edren, and their magic comes from red flames. Basically, we spend all our time trying to kill each other. It’s a lot of fun,” he said with a bitter frown at the ground.
“So you hide your magic because if an Edren found you...”
“They’d kill me. Or try to, anyway,” Shane finished for her.
Ari flinched at his words, and she knew right then that if she had seen him on that battle field in Adlington, she wouldn’t have been able to kill him. Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opened into a silent “Oh”, and he
r heart started to pound. This was a very, very dangerous revelation she’d just made to herself.
She had a weakness. And it was Shane.
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Author Note:
First I just have to thank God. Truly, he is the reason I am able to do what I love every single day!
Laura Heritage, you are the best editor and cover artist a girl could ask for! Thanks for joining me on this wild ride!
Readers, I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. You guys rock my world! I feel like we’re family. I can’t even tell you all how much I appreciate your love and support. I’ll keep writing as long as you keep reading.
I really wanted to write a book that was different. I’d been seeing a lot of New Adult novels coming out that dealt with people who had a lot of emotional baggage. Heck, I’d written a few of my own (Seaside Novels, anyone?), but I thought it was time to do something different.
Enter in… the mafia.
I mean how cool would be it be to be a part of a secret society? To grow up your whole life thinking one thing, only to find out you’ve been wrong the entire time? I am planning on doing two, possibly three books in this series.
As always, please feel leave reviews good or bad on Amazon/Barnes/Goodreads and anywhere else you can think of. If you want to connect with me to see what I’m working on, check out my website: www.rachelvandyken.com, Twitter: @RachVD, or Facebook: Rachel Van Dyken Author.
Media/Review requests/Blog requests can be directed to Angie: [email protected].
To contact me personally you can reach me at: [email protected].
Thanks again! Happy reading!
Other books by Rachel Van Dyken:
Every Girl Does It
Compromising Kessen
Savage Winter
The Parting Gift
Waltzing With the Wallflower
Beguiling Bridget
Taming Wilde
The Ugly Duckling Debutante
The Seduction of Sebastian St. James
The Redemption of Lord Rawlings
The Devil Duke Takes A Bride
Upon A Midnight Dream
Whispered Music
The Wolf’s Pursuit
An Unlikely Alliance
Tear: A Seaside Novel
Pull: A Seaside Novel
The Bet
Coming Soon:
Shatter: A Seaside Novel
Divine Uprising
Irresistible Terms
Fall: A Seaside Novel
Elect
The Wager
(The Bet 2)
About the Author
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her husband and their snoring boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandyken.com.
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