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You Make Me Die in Pieces




  Table of Contents

  YOU MAKE ME DIE IN PIECES

  Blurb

  Copyright Acknowledgement

  Dedication

  Cast of Characters

  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

  About the Author

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  MLR PRESS AUTHORS

  YOU MAKE ME DIE IN PIECES

  The Lines of Marsden 3

  N.J. NIELSEN

  mlrpress

  www.mlrpress.com

  Everything Michael Marsden has ever believed about himself is about to come crashing down around his ears. The life he never wanted is never going to let him go. How can he deal with the future when the past changes everything?

  When Doyle’s memories come back, they discover the past isn’t always about what you remember. Sometimes, some people live the same life over. What happens when he realises the cycle has to end?

  With help from their family and friends, Michael and Doyle are faced with an uncertain future in the fight to regain a sense of self. With each new revelation of what was, Venetia and her followers are knocking on the door and threatening war. She’s crazier than ever and hell-bent on revenge.

  Will what happened in their past be enough to save their future?

  Copyright Acknowledgement

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2015 by N.J. Nielsen

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Published by

  MLR Press, LLC

  3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.

  Albion, NY 14411

  Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:

  www.mlrpress.com

  Cover Art by Melody Pond

  Editing by Christie Nelson

  ebook format

  Issued 2015

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.

  DEDICATION

  To everyone who wanted to find out what comes next in The Lines of Marsden. Michael and Doyle have taken control of my writing schedule in their need to get this instalment of their story out to you all. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  To Emily S who is my very own Gypsy Marsden. May you forever remain just who you are.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Australia

  Vampires:

  Michael Marsden—king

  Doyle Kerwin—consort (omega and also reincarnation of Carleah—vampire queen)

  Christian Risely-Kincaid—Drarcaine

  Charm Lewis—destined mate of Jaffa

  Kerr Rooney—mated to Gypsy

  Aidan Newell

  Shifters:

  Jaffa: Jasper Farnell—alpha

  Maffa: Matthew Farnell—beta

  Gypsy Marsden (Michael’s second)

  Aggie Meyers

  Clive McGregor

  Julian Swan

  Rachel Olwyn—first bitten by Christian

  Tamsin Craddick—first bitten by Michael

  Fey:

  Blake Stevens (Stevenos)

  Pard:

  William Anderson

  Finn Anderson

  Deacon Anderson

  English Covens

  Holy Island:

  Benj Marsden—leader (Michael’s second)

  Kallan McGregor—third (shifter)

  Gavin Trenchill—second

  Vincent Benedict—consort’s bodyguard

  Gareth Lawson—doctor

  Dex McCormick—deceased

  London:

  Asher Sanderson—leader

  Varnoskulos Kincaid

  The Estate:

  Venetia Kincaid

  Lucio Kincaid—deceased

  Rickard Bennett

  Stefan Marsden

  Sebastian Proctulay—deceased

  Scottish Coven:

  Angus McKenzie—laird

  Lochlan McCreed

  James McGregor

  Eoin McTavish

  Fey:

  Zindel Ruskin—prince

  Aramon Brookes—guard

  Franklin Stevenos

  Drusilla Stevenos

  Keely Stevenos

  Demon Clutches:

  Hellano:

  Lhex Hellanos—leader

  Ohrin Kingle

  Cohle Reardon

  Bopara: (related to the Marsden family)

  Morgan Carnes—leader

  Jeffery Barone—Marsden cousin

  Drashner:

  McKinley Gaolin—leader

  Humans:

  Gena Reznikov

  Nick Reznikov

  Heather DeVonte

  Humans (who are turned):

  Tyler Campbell (Michael’s bodyguard/vampire)

  Jaxon Campbell (vampire)

  Coby James (vampire)

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Fun Never Ends

  For once in his life, Michael Marsden would’ve liked to have woken up when everything was absolutely perfect and he wasn’t in some sort of mortal fucking danger. Burning fury rocketed through him with the force of a lightning strike at the way his day was beginning. On the upside of this whole fucked up situation, this wake-up call had kicked his adrenaline up a notch or three. With a burst of his gifted vampiric speed, he rolled to the side of the bed and dropped to the hard floor as his attacker attempted to permanently remove his head from where it rested on his shoulders.

  Not gonna happen. Well, not today at least.

  There was no doubt in Michael’s mind Venetia was the one behind this current state of being attacked at the arse-crack of dawn. No one else hated him this much. Except for maybe Heather, but honestly he hadn’t been home enough lately to piss her off. Venetia and her rapidly growing band of idiotic followers were starting to become a big fat pain in his arse. The closer Michael got to actually finding a cure for Doyle’s memory loss, the more interference Venetia threw his way. Everything would be okay if the bitch played fair. The only problem was Venetia didn’t believe in fair.

  The truth was Venetia was pissed at him for more reasons than he was able to take the time to count right now, and he was starting to lose track of why she actually wanted him dead. Her intentions seemed to change with each passing day. Michael supposed it really didn’t matter why she hated him, yet he knew her three main motives were: One: he was the mirror image of Benj. Two: when she had orchestrated to have Gypsy taken, Michael had gone in and taken her right back. And three: when she’d had Doyle kidnapped and tortured, Michael had once again walked in and reclaimed what was his. Mind you, the bitch did get the last laugh in taking Doyle’s memories of Michael while leaving everything else intact. Her actions only filled Michael with the desire to fulfil his ultimate
goal of seeing her dead.

  Michael lay on the floor wondering why the hell it was taking so long for his attacker to get on with the job. His assailant seemed to stop and listen, as if trying to gauge what Michael’s next move was going to be. The fucker probably didn’t even know how good of a fighter he was. The fact was, he’d had to shut down his pacifist tendencies and harden the fuck up ever since the night long ago when he’d woken up as a vampire and had his existence changed forever. To this day, he still both loved and despised Christian for turning him. He’d completely forgiven him, but it’d still pained him to find out his vampirism was because he resembled Benj so much, even if Christian hadn’t understood why. For a short time in the beginning, he’d loved deeply and hurt greatly when Christian had regained some of his lost memories and the truth had come out.

  He also had come to realise Venetia was taking out her hatred for Benj on him, mainly because she couldn’t get close enough to Benj to harm him. The rumour was at some stage in a distant lifetime, Venetia had loved Benj with her whole being—if such a feat was even possible. Michael very much doubted it, because the bitch had a heart of ice and was twice as cold. The real problem for Venetia was Benj was in love with her brother, Christian. Michael knew she would never forgive Benj for choosing Christian over her.

  Somebody should tell her to build a fucking bridge and get over herself.

  Not that she would listen.

  Also, Venetia was apparently jealous that Christian had been the one in their family to be blessed, or cursed—depending on which way a person looked at it. He had inherited the power of a Drarcaine which ran in the Kincaid lineage. Venetia wanted the magic for herself, and now with her fucked up logic she had gotten it into her head the only way to take said abilities was to kill both Christian and her father, Varnoskulos. Michael couldn’t allow either death to occur. Especially as the whole magic of being a Drarcaine had somehow given him and Christian the same fucking soul to share. Fucked up was an understatement in their strange relationship, especially now as they weren’t even together. Not that it mattered, seeing as Christian had always truly belonged with Benj. Weirdly, the upside of their bond meant Michael and Christian also powered each other up. On the other hand, the downside was if one of them died, so would the other. Yeah, reality was so not fun.

  Christ on a cracker, if his guy didn’t hurry the fuck up Michael was going to die of old age before he started his attack. As an eerie silence filled the room around him, Michael had to wonder if his would-be assassin had disappeared or something. Not that Michael was stupid enough to move to find out. Venetia might be a calculating bitch, but more often than not these lackeys she sent after him were dumber than a box of rocks. He actually relished the breather, the moron above him was probably waiting on Michael to do something. Michael was more than willing to wait the prick out. Having fought so many opponents before he was easily going to defeat this idiot as well.

  As he lay there, Michael’s mind wandered to Doyle Kerwin. Michael believed wholeheartedly he truly belonged to his consort. The major setback with Doyle’s memory loss was he no longer even knew he and Michael had once been something more than friends. Even now, the ‘friends’ thing was a bit of a stretch. With each passing day, Doyle seemed to like him less and less. At first, Doyle had accepted what the rest of the extended family—who he did remember—had told him about being Michael’s consort, yet lately even those memories seemed to be fading from his mind. In the end, Michael had to come to terms with the fact that he probably wasn’t meant to be happy.

  Hence the reason why he now went on so many missions.

  Michael hated Venetia with a passion. He hoped like hell he was the one who got to end her existence. And sooner rather than later. He couldn’t prove yet she was behind what had happened with Doyle, except his gut instinct was screaming at him and he knew without a doubt she was to blame. Hell, everyone at home thought it was her, too. Michael was beginning to think maybe he should forget all about the cure, and concentrate on killing the stupid bitch once and for all, if only for the satisfaction of having done so. In the end, it would give him the same result. If it was the last thing he did, Michael was going to restore what was taken from his friend. If nothing else, Doyle was still his family, and his consort, whether the guy wanted to be or not. Michael had tried to play nice and kind. Now, he needed to play hard and nasty. He had always believed the situation would work itself out and he and Doyle would eventually be together again.

  Then Heather had shown up.

  She had suddenly come onto the scene, and all of Michael’s dreams had shattered the day he’d walked into the living room and found Doyle and Heather in a very intimate moment. The only thing he could do to save his own sanity then was to back away and lock the hurt deep inside him. He hadn’t wanted to do something stupid to ruin what little friendship remained between him and Doyle.

  As Michael lay there on the floor, he got tired of waiting for the idiot to move. “Are you going to attack me yet? If not, I’m a tad hungry so how about we reschedule for next Tuesday?”

  Michael chuckled as a loud roar above him told him to get ready. He reached beneath the bed and extracted one of the daggers hidden there. After too many close calls, Michael was now in the habit of keeping himself well and truly armed. As Gypsy would say: better to be prepared for an apocalypse than sorry later for getting his damn arse handed to him.

  As if sensing Michael was in trouble, Gypsy and Benj were suddenly inside his head. Both of them told him to be careful. While at the same time, they demanded to know why he was just lying there like a tool. Sometimes, he hated how they were permanently linked to him. Peace and quiet were now a thing of the past. Their ongoing questions and wanting to know what the hell was happening weren’t helping his concentration one little bit. “Get the fuck out of my head, or are you purposely trying to get me killed? I’ve done this a million times before. Killing this fucker will be a piece of cake,” he shouted at them.

  In the last few months, Michael had found himself swearing a hell of a lot more than he used to. Gypsy was always ranting at him because he was changing, but what did they expect when some crazy fucked-in-the-head bitch decided to mess with his life?

  Meek little Michael Marsden was long gone.

  With a twist of his body, Michael jumped up and drove the dagger straight through his assailant’s throat until the tip protruded from the nape of the fucker’s neck. The onyx spurt of hot fluid only pissed him off more. He was fighting a fucking demon. Shit was going to be brutal until the very end of the fight. He wasn’t going to be taken out as easily as Michael had first thought, because demons in battle mode never knew they even were injured until they were dead. Most viewed being wounded as a minor annoyance.

  Why is this fucker still standing?

  “Fucking great!” he muttered as he scrambled back beneath the bed in search of the other blade he’d need to end the bastard’s life. In recent times, Michael and his extended family had acquired a whole new set of fighting skills as the war they didn’t want kept finding them and dragging their arses back in. One of the lessons they’d learnt was the only way to permanently kill a demon was to kill it twice, or the fuckers didn’t stay dead for long. The twice kill method involved firstly severing the spinal column as close to the base of the skull as possible. Then, while the first blade was still imbedded deep in the demon, a second one had to be plunged through the demon’s heart, staying there until the damn thing stopped beating.

  A cry of triumph left him as his hand closed around the hilt of his other dagger. The two blades had been gifted to him by the members of Asher’s coven’s inner circle. Michael kicked the demon’s legs out from under him, and as soon as the fucker hit the floor, Michael rammed the weapon through the bastard’s rapidly beating heart. Michael grinned coldly as he saw the life fade from the demon’s eyes.

  One down, only about a gazillion or so to go.

  The moment the demon died, the magical based seal,
which had been placed on the room lifted. The door burst open to reveal a slightly dishevelled Tyler standing there fully armed, with murder in his eyes. Right behind him were Aggie and Clyde, both equally irate. The only thing Michael could do was laugh at the sight before him.

  “You’re a bit late, guys. I had to do all the hard work myself.” Michael flopped back on the floor and let his body gain some semblance of control. His muscles ached like a bitch as he waited for the adrenaline to run its course through his system. He hoped it was fast. They needed to get out of here, because when Venetia found out she’d once again failed she’d send in more people and hit him harder.

  Tyler savagely slammed the door closed behind them before he stalked across the room. “Well, if we went home long enough for Chris to convert me, these bastards wouldn’t be able to mind-fuck me enough to leave you unguarded, your Majesty.” Tyler’s use of Michael’s royal title should have clued Michael in as to how pissed off his guard and friend truly was. Instead, he lay there and watched as Tyler viciously kicked the corpse at his feet and snarled. “As soon as we get rid of this fucker we’re making a trip home. Jaxon tells me everyone has now moved to the new place Benj and Chris bought. It’s time, Michael. I lived up to my end of the bargain, now you have to do the same.”

  Recently, Benj and Christian had bought the farm which had once belonged to Michael’s Grandpa Jack. In Michael’s opinion, it should never have been sold off in the first place. It should have stayed with his family. The truth was a greedy uncle had sold it off not long after Grandpa Jack had died, even though the land didn’t belong to him. It had been set aside in the will for Michael and Gypsy’s use.

  Michael tuned out Tyler as he phoned home for a clean-up crew to come and remove all evidence of the fight he’d recently survived. Also the conversation going on inside his head only partially held his concentration. Benj and Gypsy in their need to make the situation less full-on for him were talking him down from his adrenaline rush by giving him a rundown of what was happening at home. More so, how their lives had changed because some dumbarse was once again out on a patrol and not at home where he should be to take care of everything. It was true that ever since the day his heart had shattered over Doyle, Michael had thrown himself into work. Against everyone’s wishes, Michael had put together his own four crew scouting team and gone out. Granted, his goals were more based on finding a cure for Doyle, but the outcome was slowly adjusting as needed with each new mission.