Betrayed: Lake Of Sins #4
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Lake Of Sins: Betrayed
Lake Of Sins, Volume 4
L. S. O'Dea
Published by L. S. O'Dea, 2017.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
LAKE OF SINS: BETRAYED
First edition. July 3, 2017.
Copyright © 2017 L. S. O'Dea.
ISBN: 978-1942706090
Written by L. S. O'Dea.
Also by L. S. O'Dea
Chimera Chronicles
Rise of the River Man
Feeding Fersia
Breaking the Brush Men
Rage Of Rattus Norvegicus
Leaving Level Five
Lake Of Sins
Lake of Sins: Secrets in Blood
Lake of Sins: Hangman's Army
Lake Of Sins: Betrayed
Whispers From the Past
Lake of Sins: Escape
Standalone
Lake of Sins Series Box Set Books 1-3
Chimera Chronicles
A Demon's Gift
Table of Contents
Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By L. S. O'Dea
Lake Of Sins: Betrayed
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1: CONGUISE
CHAPTER 2: JETHRO
CHAPTER 3: JETHRO
CHAPTER 4: HUGH
CHAPTER 5: TRINITY
CHAPTER 6: HUGH
CHAPTER 7: TRINITY
CHAPTER 8: HUGH
CHAPTER 9: TRINITY
CHAPTER 10: HUGH
CHAPTER 11: TRINITY
CHAPTER 12: HUGH
CHAPTER 13: HUGH
CHAPTER 14: HUGH
CHAPTER 15: JETHRO
CHAPTER 16: JETHRO
CHAPTER 17: HUGH
CHAPTER 18: TRINITY
CHAPTER 19: HUGH
CHAPTER 20: TRINITY
CHAPTER 21: HUGH
CHAPTER 22: TRINITY
CHAPTER 23: TRINITY
CHAPTER 24: TRINITY
CHAPTER 25: HUGH
CHAPTER 26: JETHRO
CHAPTER 27: JETHRO
CHAPTER 28: CONGUISE
CHAPTER 29: TRINITY
CHAPTER 30: JETHRO
CHAPTER 31: CONGUISE
CHAPTER 32: CONGUISE
CHAPTER 33: JETHRO
CHAPTER 34: JETHRO
CHAPTER 35: JETHRO
CHAPTER 36: JETHRO
CHAPTER 37: JETHRO
CHAPTER 38: JETHRO
CHAPTER 39: JETHRO
CHAPTER 40: JETHRO
CHAPTER 41: TRINITY
CHAPTER 42: TRINITY
CHAPTER 43: TRINITY
CHAPTER 44: HUGH
CHAPTER 45: TRINITY
CHAPTER 46: TRINITY
CHAPTER 47: JETHRO
CHAPTER 48: TRINITY
CHAPTER 49: TRINITY
CHAPTER 50: TRINITY
CHAPTER 51: JETHRO
CHAPTER 52: HUGH
CHAPTER 53: HUGH
CHAPTER 54: HUGH
CHAPTER 55: HUGH
CHAPTER 56: TRINITY
CHAPTER 57: TRINITY
CHAPTER 58: JETHRO
CHAPTER 59: JETHRO
CHAPTER 60: JETHRO
CHAPTER 61: JETHRO
CHAPTER 62: TRINITY
CHAPTER 63: JETHRO
CHAPTER 64: TRINITY
CHAPTER 65: TRINITY
CHAPTER 66: CONGUISE
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WHISPERS FROM THE PAST
Find out what happens next. | https://www.books2read.com/u/mgrNPK
Characters
Rise of the River Man
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Also By L. S. O'Dea
To all of you who contacted me telling me about my books, through email or reviews—THANK YOU. Some days, that’s the only thing that keeps me writing instead of watching television. Writing is a lot of work but your kind words and enjoyment of my stories keep me motivated.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, thank you to my beta readers and to my ARC Readers. I appreciate all that you do.
CHAPTER 1: CONGUISE
CONGUISE STARED OUT THE window at the rising sun. It was going to be a beautiful day, crisp and sunny. Unfortunately, he’d spend most of it in the basement. He could hold off another day or so, but sunny or rainy this task was never pleasant, so he might as well get it done and he would. Right after breakfast.
He added another slice of toast to the large tray of bread and fruit on the counter and picked up his plate of toast and sausage, carrying it to the table. He refilled his coffee and sat. There were two papers waiting for him today. It was early for the rebel’s propaganda. Usually, Afar only brought that paper on Saturdays. His hand skimmed over the rebel’s rag. No. He’d read the official paper first, like always. He scanned the news while he ate. There wasn’t anything unusual or interesting in the pages. His eyes darted to the other paper. If there was nothing interesting to report, why were the rebels early with their lies? He folded the paper and put it aside, picking up the second smaller one.
There was nothing but more stories about the freeing of the Guards and Servants from the shelters. It seemed the rebels had nothing new to report either. He turned a page and his hands shook as his gaze landed on a photo of Hugh and that creature they called Trinity. Hugh was bandaging her arm. Apparently, she’d been injured while helping to steal the Guards from the shelter. Hugh gazed at this female as if...as if he were infatuated with her. The professor’s hands fisted, wrinkling the paper. It was that creature’s fault Viola was dead. Viola had loved Hugh and he was betraying her again, defiling the memory of her love with that thing. He pushed his plate aside. One day, he’d kill Hugh. All he had to do was decide how and the more brutal the better.
Afar stepped into the kitchen from the pantry, closing the door behind him.
Conguise took a deep breath as he straightened the rebel’s paper and set it aside. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, sir. There are four Guards in the back room.”
“Get two more. We may need them.” He walked to the counter.
“Of course, sir.” Afar collected the abandoned breakfast dishes.
Conguise added a glass of water and a large knife to the tray of bread and fruit. His reflection caught in the spotless blade. He’d aged a lot. Sorrow did that to a man. He opened the pantry door, grabbed the tray and headed down the stairs. Dread filled his stomach, churning with each step. This wasn’t a task he enjoyed. He wasn’t a cruel man, but he’d never again prepare or eat any food without knowing firsthand the source of the meat.
The first time he’d done this he’d had no idea what to expect. His plan and execution had been flawed and the results had been horrible. He stepped off the final stair, took a deep breath, plastered a smile on his face and entered the concrete room. He’d been right about leaving the room bare. It was cold and desolate, but easier to clean than tile or wood.
“Good morning, Professor.” The young, male Producer was lying on the cot in the cage. He scratched his chest, his shirt stained with dirt and sweat, as he stood and walked to the table and chair. “Whatever you have smells good. I’m starving.” br />
The cage was filthy, clothes and bedding littering the floor. This male was slovenly and his habits were unclean. “Yes, I’ve brought homemade bread—the brown kind you like. I even toasted a few slices.”
“Great.” The male locked his feet in the restraints attached to the floor by the chair and then snapped another shackle around one of his hands. “Can I leave the other off today?” He held up his free hand which was slightly swollen. “I’ve injured my wrist.”
“You know the rules.” The professor placed the tray on the table outside of the cage and retrieved the key from the wall across from the cell.
“Okay.” The Producer’s tone was sullen as he snapped the other lock around his wrist. “Ouch.”
“I’ll take a look at your injury after breakfast.” Conguise opened the door. It was best to keep up the chatter, no matter how inane. “It doesn’t look too bad. A cold compress should make you feel as good as new.” He picked up the tray and carried it into the cage, placing it in front of the Producer.
“Looks good.” The Producer lifted his hand toward the bread.
“Rules.” The professor touched the male’s shoulder.
“Okay.” He dropped his hand and closed his eyes, tipping back his head.
“How did you hurt yourself?” Conguise picked up the knife.
“I was trying to stand on my hands.” The Producer’s face flushed a bit.
“Whatever for?” He stroked the male’s hair. He was always surprised at how soft it was. It reminded him of brushing Viola’s hair when she’d been a little girl.
“I was bored. Can I eat now?” asked the Producer, eyes still closed.
“Not yet.” His voice was calm. That was important. These creatures could sense dread and unease. He raised the knife and in one smooth stroke slashed the Producer’s throat.
The male stiffed for one moment, his eyes opening and meeting Conguise’s. Confusion and surprise filled the male’s visage as he tried to stand, but the restraints restricted his movements. Conguise stepped back as the Producer grasped his neck, pushing the chair and table as he stumbled. The professor looked away from the betrayal in the creature’s brown eyes and focused on the blood pouring onto the floor. There was always so much blood. He needed to figure out a way to capture it. It’d be good fertilizer and some could be saved for blood sausage—cooked with peppers and onions would be delicious.
A few minutes later there was a thud as the Producer hit the table and fell to the floor. Conguise stepped out of the cage as six Guards moved down the hallway from the backroom. They always knew exactly when to arrive. He wasn’t sure if it were the sound or the smell, but he was grateful. He didn’t like to be alone down here as the body twitched its final fight. He strode to the room where the Guards had been. They’d follow in a few minutes with the carcass.
By the time the Guards carried the Producer into the room and hooked him on the hoist, the professor was ready. He had his knives, saw and spreader lined up on the table. The Servants cleaned and set up the room after each butchering, but he always sharpened his knives and double checked everything.
“He was a big one,” said a Guard.
Conguise placed his hand over the Producer’s eyes, closing them. They reminded him too much of Viola’s on the cart, glassy and unseeing. “Tell Afar to get another one right away. Have him get a large one, but make sure it’s obedient. I won’t have much time with this next one.” He was in charge of the menu for Jason’s granddaughter’s college graduation in a few months.
CHAPTER 2: JETHRO
IT’D BEEN WEEKS AND there was still no sign of the Producers. Jethro was glad. He liked the thought of young Producers running free through the forest. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of the forest—rabbit, squirrel, earth. He’d missed this. He didn’t ever want to go back to living in the suburbs and managing the Producer encampments. He should flee the Protective Services and live out here. He sniffed again, half-hoping to catch a whiff of Trinity. He’d caught her scent when they’d first set out, following the Producers’ trail away from the encampment. No one else even noticed it, but he’d recognize her scent anywhere. It’d accompanied her into his dreams every night since he’d seen her in his basement.
As soon as possible, the Producers had moved from the brush to the clearer sections of the forest, thus leaving no trail of broken branches and smashed bushes. The Guards had resorted to following the scent but that hadn’t taken them far. The smell of Producer had been all over the forest and then it’d vanished, replaced by pine and herb. He had no idea what Trinity had used to cover their odor and he wasn’t going to try and figure it out. Conguise and Jason expected him to help and he was, but he didn’t have to like it. He didn’t have to like Captain Calvin Folgrant either.
The captain was arrogant without cause. If he were the best the Almightys had to offer, Hugh and the others would never get caught. Cal had spent most of this morning droning on about how important it was to be quiet in the forest, especially when hunting. It was hard to keep a straight face when he’d catch the disgusted looks the Guards shared with each other. There was no way anything didn’t know about their approach with Cal’s constant chattering, but finally the captain had fallen silent.
“This way,” said Brick, one of the Guards. He had his head tipped back, sniffing the air. “Producer, I’m sure.”
Jethro’s nose twitched. Sure enough. It was Producer. Cal’s entire army followed Brick through the forest. He trailed a little behind the Guards, not wanting to be in the lead and give any indication that his sense of smell was better than it should be. He also didn’t want to be in the back because that was where Cal and the other Almightys were and he didn’t get along with them. They were condescending toward him and the Guards. Only the threat of being sent back to the Producer encampment had kept him from punching the sneers off their faces more times than he could count.
As they continued following the faint odor of Producer, the morning turned into late afternoon. Some of the Guards were grumbling but he didn’t care. The longer it took to catch the Producers, the longer he got to enjoy the forest and since Cal had insisted on bringing his entire troop, they weren’t going to capture anything. Even quiet, fifty Guards made noise and gave off scent. He hadn’t seen so much as a squirrel in their path.
The ripple of the command to stop filtered through the troops. He leaned back against a tree, enjoying the sun on his face. This was typical of Cal’s astute leadership. They had even less of a chance of catching anything when they weren’t moving.
The Guards parted as Cal and his second approached.
“Jethro, take four Guards and continue on. If you find something report back,” said Cal.
He pushed off from the tree. “Yes, sir.” So, Cal wasn’t stupid enough to keep hunting with an entire troop of Guards. That was a surprise.
“Take Indy, Brick and those two.” Cal pointed to two other Guards and then faced Jethro again, his lips twitching in amusement. “I expect results.” His eyes darted to his second. “Or Jason and Conguise do. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Yes, sir.” He kept his face impassive as he turned and headed into the forest.
Cal had purposely picked the worst Guards in the group. Brick was as dumb as his name. He was big and muscular but stupid and the other two were so young that they should be home playing with toys not running around in the forest. Indy was another story. The Guard was about his age, had dark brown hair, kept his beard neatly trimmed and had brown eyes that sparkled with humor and intelligence which was Indy’s main problem. He was smart and found amusement in almost every situation, causing him to take nothing seriously.
They made their way through the woods in silence, none of them except the two, young Guards happy about this assignment. Jethro knew it was a waste of time. Whatever Producers had been in the area were long gone, warned by the approaching troop of Guards. This was sabotage on Cal’s part. When they went back into town in a few weeks
, the captain could report to Jason and Conguise that Jethro had been given an opportunity to capture Producers but had failed.
“Smell that,” said Brick, grinning. “We found the scent again.”
“Yeah.” Indy turned toward Jethro. “Producer. A lot of scent but it’s old.”
He nodded. He’d realized that over ten minutes ago.
“I don’t think there’ve been any Producers around here in weeks,” said Indy.
“Are you sure?” He was positive.
“Yeah. The first scent we’d caught had been fresher. We must’ve lost it somewhere and picked up this trail.”
“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, since he agreed. He wanted to tip back his head and inhale deeply, catch all the scents in the air, but he didn’t dare.
“We should report this to the captain,” said Indy.
“Not yet. Let’s follow the trail a little longer to see where it leads.” He was in no hurry to return to the others.
“It’s not going to lead to any Producers,” grumbled Indy.
“Humor me or do you want to go back and listen to Cal gloat?”
Indy eyes widened and a smile spread across his face. “I thought all you Almightys were best friends.”
“Hardly.” He headed into the brush.
“I’d keep that quiet, if I were you.” Indy jogged to catch up with him. “Some of these idiots are loyal to Captain Cal.”
“Good to know.” He didn’t care what Cal thought of him, but the man was going to report on his progress which would eventually decide his fate. He didn’t want to lead his own troops against Jackson, Hugh and Trinity, but he also didn’t want to run the Producer encampments. Eventually, he’d have to send Producers to the Warehouse District and he wasn’t ready for that. He needed time to figure out how to get out of both of these jobs and still keep his home.
His nose twitched. Guard. He paused, holding up his fisted hand to signal the others to stop. This scent was fresh. The Guards were close. The urge to track them down, to hunt, was strong but he didn’t want to catch them. If he were alone, he’d stalk them through the forest for the challenge, but he wasn’t alone. If he caught them, he’d have to turn them over to Cal. “Ah, it’s getting dark. We should go back. Let Cal gloat and be done with it.”