Excerpt
Forsaken Prince Teaser #1
The lights inside Jacob's home were off. That wasn't normal. Mom always kept lights on. She would rather pay an elevated electric bill than live in a dark house.
Jacob flipped the switch. Nothing happened. He stepped inside, and something crunched under foot. He looked down. He'd stepped on broken glass. Jacob glanced around the room. All the bulbs had been shattered—the lamp near the front door, the overhead light, and the lamps on the shelves by the piano. Nothing else was broken.
His heart did a little flip, and foreboding settled over him. What had happened?
"Mom? Dad?"
No answer.
He stepped into the kitchen. Everything there was broken—not even the battery-operated clock on the wall was still ticking.
Jacob's breath caught when he spotted blood all along the edge of the counter.
"Dad! Mom! Amberly!"
In a rush, he searched the rest of the first floor, then bounded up the stairs. He didn't get far before stumbling to a halt. A huge body was sprawled across the top of the staircase. Jacob gasped, stepping back involuntarily, and nearly fell down the stairs before catching himself. It wasn't human. It couldn't be. No human looked like that.
He clung to the railing, staring at the dead beast. What the crap was it? The thing was huge. Humanoid, with stubby, muscular legs, massive arms, and four fingers on each hand. The wall all around it was splattered with blood and marred with spray from a shotgun.
The creature wore dark leather pants. It wasn't wearing a shirt, and Jacob nearly wretched as he stepped up the stairs and saw a huge gaping hole in the thing's chest. More blood slicked down the stairs and pooled beneath the beast.
The entire thing was covered everywhere with very short hair. Spikes jutted out from the lower jaw, coming to sharp points about two inches from the chin. The eyes had rolled back in the head, the lids open.
Jacob stumbled up the stairs, trying not to touch the creature or its blood. Were there more of those things in the house? Was he in danger? And where were his parents?
His breathing came in pants and gasps. His dad's shotgun lay in the hall near the top of the stairs. Shells—some empty—were scattered across the floor. Jacob grabbed the gun and several of the shells, fumbling to load the weapon in case he needed to defend himself.
Someone whimpered, and he rushed down the hallway. He passed another one of those beasts, this one missing a head. His stomach flipped. He refused to look at the gaping neck.
"Hello?" he called out, clenching the shotgun. "Mom?"
His parents' room was empty. He barely glanced into his and Matt's separate bedrooms before pausing in the doorway to Amberly's. A familiar figure huddled on the other side of the princess bed, and he gasped.
"Mom!" Jacob rushed to her side, dropping to his knees. He set down the gun and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She jumped, shrinking against the wall, her hair falling over her face.
"It's me! It's Jacob. Are you okay? What happened? What's going on?"
Mom slumped in relief and sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
He gently pushed her hair away from her face, then startled. She was covered in blood. Bruises were blossoming across her cheeks and neck.
"What's going on?" he repeated.
"We tried . . . to protect you . . ."
"Where are Amberly and Dad?"
"They—they took them."
"They who?" Jacob asked. He pulled out his phone to call 911.
"The Lorkon." Mom's eyes cleared as she concentrated on her son's face. "They sent their servants. Your father and sister have been taken. You must go get them!"
