Vicious (Haunted Stars Book 2) 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

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Vicious

  Haunted Stars Book 2

  Lindsey R. Loucks

  Vicious (Haunted Stars Book 2) © August 2017 Lindsey R. Loucks

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright 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 and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters 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, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  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 prison and a fine of $250,000.

  For Natasha Larry

  whose generous, talented, intelligent, and compassionate existence

  is brighter than any star in the night sky.

  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

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  The purple and green curve of the planet Orin smiled at the twinkling stars that filled the window of the Vicio’s cockpit. Only three hours until we landed to hire people who resembled me in an attempt to throw the law off my fugitive tail. No small feat, but one made easier by the delicious ache from being ravaged night after night by the beautiful man lying next to me.

  Mase’s fingers curled against his palm in a loose fist, and the corners of his mouth tipped up in a relaxed smile. Strands of blond hair I loved to run my fingers through so much fell across one eye, down along the stubble of his strong jaw, and feathered almost to his shoulders. He looked so peaceful in sleep, even with the scars striping his perfection and often marring his memories.

  I sneaked out a hand from my blanket to graze his thumb and scooted a little closer, and for the second time in my life, I realized how impossible it was not to fall in love with something that slept near me. Granted, he didn’t lay nose-to-nose with me like my roommate Moon Dragon’s slothcat Jezebel did, but the effect was still the same. It made him seem vulnerable, more real somehow I supposed, and for whatever reason, that melted every single one of my soft spots.

  I should probably keep that information to myself though. How do you make Absidy Jones, fugitive ghost magnet, love you? Easy. All you have to do is sleep next to her.

  But surely I wasn’t that simple, was I?

  His eyelids fluttered, and as soon as his eyes, one blue and one gray, met mine, my heart stuttered.

  “Hi,” he whispered.

  “Hi,” I whispered back, and I was pretty sure my smile stretched to my ears and cracked my eardrums.

  He answered it with a beaming one of his own. “How are you?”

  “Sore.”

  “Would I be a giant dick if I said I wasn’t sorry?” he asked with a smirk.

  I touched my lips to his, instantly breathless with just that slight connection. “Yes.”

  His gaze grew heated, and through his smirk, he slid his tongue over his teeth. “I could be gentle.”

  “You could get me dead,” I said as I pushed away from him. “Randolph will murder me if I’m late again.”

  Ever since he’d been forced to go off alcohol cold turkey, having totally run out of it about a week ago, Randolph was almost impossible to be in the same room with. He’d already drunk what booze hadn’t been destroyed in the stasis food pantry when the Saelis aliens had boarded the Vicio—more accurately called the Vicious. I rose from the bed, the slight chill in the air peppering my naked skin with goosebumps, and grabbed my sweatshirt from the floor.

  Mase grazed his fingers over my bare ass with a groan. “Speaking of giant dicks…”

  “Put yours away.” I swatted at his hand while I searched the floor for my underwear. “Breakfast first. Then maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you put your hands down my pants before we land on Orin.” I threw him a wink over my shoulder.

  “That’s my favorite thing to do to you. That’s one of my favorite things to do to you,” he corrected, propping his head on an elbow to press kisses into my hip. “You won’t make me hold a potato instead?”

  I threw my head back and laughed. Feozva, it felt good to be free around him, free of my haunted past to embrace my future. But his wandering hands down the backs of my thighs and his sinful mouth on my skin were awakening the fire that only he could ignite. I needed to get away from him, and fast. My underwear had somehow wound itself around the toe of his cowboy boot—symbolism, anyone?—and I hastily pulled it off.

  “There will be no potato holding if you let me walk out that door in a timely fashion,” I warned.

  “On one condition,” he said, grabbing my wrist before I could reach for my sweatshirt. “No underwear today, in memory of me.”

  “In memory.” I snorted. “Like I need any help being reminded of you.”

  Sheets rustled, then he stood next to me, his chiseled body gloriously naked. And yes, a mighty erection. He brushed the sexy mess of hair off his forehead and connected his sharp, mismatched gaze with mine. “I don’t need any help being reminded of you either. But last time you were more than a ship-length away from me, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. This trip to Orin… I’m not looking forward to it.”

  I swallowed thickly. I thought I couldn’t love this man more than I already did because of the impossible size of his heart. Stupid me. We’d been through a lot in the short amount of time we’d known each other, including being kidnapped by aliens to a haunted rogue planet called The Black. Our lives were not the regular kind.

  “No aliens will be taking me away from you,” I said, pressing myself against him in a tight hug. “Nothing will ever take me away from you. I love you too much to let that happen. You’ll find an engineer, we’ll find copies of you, me, and Ellison to throw the police off all our trails, and we’ll be back together again in no time.”

  Mase squeezed me right back, and I had to wonder how it would feel if I thought I’d lost him forever too. His musky smell, his laugh, the disarming things he’d say to make me laugh, the way he moved inside me—he’d become my new addiction, had seeped so completely into my soul that I spared only a fleeting thought or three to iron. More when he wasn’t by my side. Being without him terrified me as much as being without iron once had. Before now, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it, but today we woul
d have to split up, if only for a couple of hours. An eternity.

  “I’ll go without underwear if you do too,” I said around the sudden knot of emotion lodged in my throat.

  “Agreed. But only if you stay away from the engine room. It’s not safe.”

  I leaned away to study him. “What?”

  “Nesbit was like a tornado in there, and the barrier around the engine is broken. Don’t go back in there.”

  “I haven’t been in the engine room lately.”

  “You sure? I thought I saw you slip in there yesterday, but I got too distracted last night with some pretty serious body exploration to say anything about it.”

  I smiled. “As in your body exploration?”

  “I know my way around mine, college girl. It’s yours I’m committing to memory.” He tapped his temple. “And I don’t quite have it yet.”

  “I really haven’t been in the engine room.” Not lately, anyway. I’d explored it briefly when I’d ransacked the ship for iron when Nesbit, our former engineer, had stepped out. But that seemed ages ago, not yesterday. “Maybe you saw Ellison. We look alike, you know.”

  He chewed his lip, a skeptical gleam in his eyes. “Pretty sure I know the difference between the Jones sisters.”

  “Maybe I infected you with my parasites, and they’re causing you to hallucinate.” I shrugged. “Oops.”

  He snorted and held me close again. “We need an engineer in there. Without one, things go south fast.”

  I pressed my lips to the scar slicing from above his eyebrow to his jaw. “We’ll find one.” One who wasn’t like Nesbit—a human/alien hybrid who wanted to devour the iron-eating parasites from my blood. Really, it wasn’t asking for much.

  Mase’s breath sighed against the top of my ear, and I trembled at the ripple of warmth it sent down to my toes. I turned my face to his, melting into the depth of love I saw in his shuttered gaze.

  He captured my lips with an urgency that spun the cockpit and roared fire through my veins within seconds. He pushed me against the closed door with a low groan, the rumble in his chest vibrating a shockwave into mine and down to my center.

  I moaned and arched into him, all my aches and pains forgotten except the throbbing one between my thighs and the pinch around my heart at how much I loved this man.

  “You’re not being very good,” I said, breathless. “I might make you hold that potato after all.”

  “I’m no good at being good,” he rasped. Then he hiked up my legs around his waist and pushed into me in what seemed like one movement.

  “Thank Feozva for that,” I said between kisses, then lost myself in the sensations of being loved by Mase Ryan.

  He buried a groan in my neck, a tremor of pleasure that swept straight south to the coiled heat sitting low in my belly. I fisted my hand through his messy blond hair and dragged him back to my lips, my tongue seeking his, my body craving all of him at once. His hips thrust harder, faster, building the tension between my thighs until I felt myself begin to crumble, piece by piece, under his expert touch.

  On the edge, I dug my fingernails into the backs of his shoulders, but he instantly slowed, an evil smile twitching his mouth.

  “Not yet,” he growled.

  I moaned in frustration, my hips bucking against his languid pumps to urge him on. But his chaste kiss silenced me, and his hands dipped lower around my ass to control my desperate movements. His heavy pants feathered my cheek as he lifted his gaze to meet mine.

  I brushed his hair away from his stubbled chin, my annoyance temporarily forgotten at the way he looked at me, the way he always looked at me, with passion, love, acceptance—the same way I was sure I looked at him. One of us usually slowed down during sex to make it last, to prolong this powerful connection that threaded us together as close as two people in love could be.

  “I love you, Mase,” I whispered.

  He rested his forehead against mine, his beautifully scarred body quickening its rhythm. “I love you, Absidy. Always.” He moved one hand between us and trailed a path of goosebumps low, low, until he thumbed my clit.

  My thighs clamped tight around him. I thumped my head into the wall as his touch powered a thrill strong enough to curl my toes and pushed me back to the brink. He slammed into me, his thumb swirling in tight circles, until stars burst into existence behind my fluttering eyelids as bright as those streaking by the ship. My loud moans carried them all away while my body clung to the sensations rolling through it. A moment later, he buried a growl into my neck as his entire body quaked against mine.

  We caught our breaths, neither one of us willing to move. I would’ve stayed like this forever if I could’ve, if not for the grisly thoughts of murder I was surely inspiring in Randolph.

  “I’ll love you always.” Mase pressed a kiss to my temple, and I closed my eyes with a smile at the promise in his voice.

  But it quickly faded when I glanced at the clock next to the bedding on the floor. “Oh no, Mase.”

  He pulled out with a reluctant nod and eased me to my feet. “Right. This crew and their inconvenient need to eat.”

  “Again.” I shook my head and dived toward my clothes piled all over the floor. “It’s terribly rude. I’m sure Randolph is in the kitchen thinking the same thing.”

  “Or he’s hacking at a breakfast sausage.” At my breathless laugh, he said, “Isn’t that what all chefs do when their apprentices are late?”

  With my pants hiked halfway up my thighs—no underwear for me today—and the arms of my sweatshirt dangling loose around my neck, I declared myself mostly ready and leaned in to Mase for a fast peck. “I’ll see you and your breakfast sausage later.”

  He grinned and opened the cockpit door. “I like this obsession we have with food and sex.”

  I chuckled on my way out the door, still trying to dress myself and failing miserably in my rush. The third floor of the ship had been emptied of the many crates full of dried vegetables and grains, and now stood wide open with titanium polished to a dull shine on all sides. Like the rest of the crew, I had once been afraid of what lurked around every corner of this ship, but now my steps announced my location, my gaze trained straight ahead instead of at twisting, creeping shadows. For the first time in my life, I felt confident and happy.

  Which might’ve explained why what I needed to do after breakfast seemed so reckless.

  I finally made it to the second floor, through the dining room and into the kitchen, where something popped and snapped on the stove, filling the tiny space with the smell of salted meat. Randolph stood over it with his back turned, an orange Smixton College vest hugging his large frame, his shoulders set in a rigid line.

  “Finally decided to show up, did you?” he growled.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, retrieving a stack of plates from a cupboard. I didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse since everyone knew where I slept at night. “I’ll come with you today to help shop for food, okay?” I leaned next to the stove, careful of the snapping meat. Bacon cut from volanti pigs, from the looks of it. More dessert than breakfast, though I doubted anyone would complain. It was probably all the food we had left. “Twice the eyes, twice the arms. We’ll get it done in no time.”

  He shot me a glare from under bushy eyebrows that matched his thick, dark hair. “Well, I wish we had more than volanti, but your boyfriend drank all the milk. You can’t expect me to make anything resembling a proper breakfast without milk.”

  I sighed. Mase and his milk.

  By the time I finished setting the table, it was already six a.m. Ellison entered the dining room first, dressed in a crisp white medical smock, and her long braided hair swung over her shoulder.

  “Fine,” I said before she could say anything. I’d been fed up with her constant stream of health and wellness questions since she’d boarded two months ago. How well are your scars fading from the Saelis attack? Let me see them. Any soreness from your reset bones? Does your hair hurt while it’s growing in? I hadn’t actu
ally heard that last question yet, but I was sure it would come any day.

  Her gray gaze narrowed, then she shook her head, seeming to brush it off, and sat at the gurney we used as a table. “How about a ‘it’s so nice to see you, dear sister. I do hope you slept well.’” A flash of metal rolled across her tongue, visible long enough to flood my mouth with saliva before it vanished again.

  I whirled around and slammed through the double doors into the kitchen. My insides squirmed with need, kicking and wailing for a taste of what she had—iron. Sharp and tangy, the thought of it dancing over my tongue crushed my teeth together and triggered the iron-eating parasites within me to dangle off my organs until they got more metal.

  Randolph did a double take over his shoulder, then rushed to my side and guided me to the small table in the center of the kitchen. He fished a silver flask from under his vest and pushed it toward me. I took a sip of straight hot sauce because that was all the convincing my taste buds needed to switch my craving brain to something else, like the lava pouring down my throat.

  “Every morning, Randolph,” I rasped.

  He sipped at the flask, too, and a whole-body shudder quaked through him. We shared this morning ritual to fight off our addictions, if only temporarily, but I was glad to have him by my side for support.

  My sister, a doctor who should know better, was an enabler. She’d originally pumped parasites into me because the metallic iron they fed on repelled the ghosts that had haunted me my whole life. Over the years, she’d become as addicted as I had once been. Okay, was still. I’d probably forever be a work in progress regarding iron and the safety it had once provided.

  “Better?” Randolph asked, his voice rough. His eyes watered from the hot sauce.