Trigger (Origin Book 1)
TRIGGER
By
Scarlett Dawn
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
TRIGGER
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2017 © Scarlett Dawn
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the author / publisher.
To my fans.
New York Times bestselling author, Scarlett Dawn, has created a fresh and magical new adventure for romance and paranormal lovers alike. Shifters now run the world through corporations after the humans all but destroyed Earth. It's too bad humans are still oblivious. They have no clue terrifying beasts rule their broken world.
And then along came a human. A beautiful and klutzy human.
She's the trigger the shifters have been waiting for...
But beware of the soul-sucking darkness soon to follow.
CONTENTS
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THE END
CHAPTER ONE
“Are you going to beg again?” Logan asked. His cheeks pinched as he grinned. This man who was checking my electronic bracelet to allow me entry to the compound knew full well my dilemma. He had to listen to me complain every time I marched outside for air, after an argument with my father. “You have less than two days before you’re screwed.”
My face scrunched up in irritation. “I have a different plan if my father says no this time.”
His silver hair gleamed in the fading light of the setting sun. “That would be?”
I shook my head ever so slowly. “It would probably be best if you didn’t know.”
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” One bushy eyebrow rose.
“No.” My brown eyes rolled. “I do love the bastard.”
“Just don’t do anything illegal,” he rumbled. He patted my back as his scanner beeped in confirmation that I had access—of course, I did. I had lived on bases like this my entire life. His beefy right hand opened the door for me after he tapped in the code. “I worry about you, Poppy.”
I walked inside, mumbling, “Don’t. I’m a big girl now. I can handle myself.”
“Be careful! I mean it,” he hollered after me.
The door shushed, closing out the fallen world.
I shook my head and tightened my ball cap on my head as I went through the body scanner. The guards there waved as I went through, gifting me encouraging smiles. Even I knew it was sad how the military personnel here were more fatherly than my own parent was. But I would take matters into my own hands if it came down to it. Because Logan was right. Time was running out.
I had turned into a selfish bitch the last few years.
It didn’t bother me any. If I wanted my freedom, I had to be ruthless.
My father no longer had access to my hard-earned money. Not that I had much, but I had saved to do what I must if he said no tonight. I would not be stuck here forever.
* * *
My rump was almost numb by the time my father walked into our quarters. I had been sitting in wait at the dining room table for just this moment. His red uniform, decorated with medals, shone in the bright kitchen overhead lighting. My father may be a pain most of the time, but he knew how to intimidate in his finery. All of his subordinates were scared of him.
I used to be too.
Now I was just pissed.
“Hello, Father,” I stated with false cheer. “How was your day?”
He opened the fridge and ducked to peer inside it, the inside light showing the wrinkles on his forehead. “I know that tone, darling dearest.” His brown eyes flicked in my direction as he pulled a bottle of water from the depths of the cooling unit. He kicked the door closed with ease and turned to face me. His throat worked as he took a long drink from the bottle, staring over the edge at me.
He grinned full of mirth. “What is it that you want this time?”
I tilted my head and cracked my neck. “Who says I want anything?”
“Pretty much every time you’re waiting for me after work, you want something.”
My red brows furrowed. “Really?”
“Really.” His black shoes clicked on the tiling as he walked toward me. His strong hand pulled out the chair next to me, taking a seat. Eyes identical to my own stared into my soul. “I can guess what it’s about this time.”
I stayed silent.
He rubbed at the wrinkles in his forehead absently as he leaned back, getting comfortable. “We’ve had this discussion a hundred times. I won’t sign off on you entering the Corporate Army.”
I kept my expression serene, not showing any of the frustration racing inside my head.“But you would sign off on me marrying a stranger? A stranger who is in your army?”
His voice was as calm as my façade. “He isn’t a stranger. I know him well. He’s a good man for you to marry. And it’s a good thing he works for the Liberated Army. You know that.” He swallowed another large drink of his water, and then he sighed. “Does it help that he’s a good-looking man?”
“I don’t care what he looks like.” Though I was surprised my father had taken the time to make sure the man he chose for me was ‘good looking.’ I hadn’t expected that. “And I don’t care what the laws are. I don’t want to marry a stranger. The only way for me to stay single is to join the Corporate Army. You know that.”
This time, he stayed silent.
I jumped on his hesitancy. “Father, you’ve trained me well. You know I’ll make the cut. I’ll pass, and I’ll have my freedom.”
He instantly shook his head. “Working for the Corporations is not freedom.”
My temperature started to rise, staining my cheeks pink. “And neither is an arranged marriage.”
“I know that, Poppy!” He jerked to stand and grabbed his w
ater with a hard hand. “But I would rather have you marry someone I know is a good man than to have you be a slave to the Corporations. Don’t you understand that? They killed your mother. Or have you forgotten that little detail?”
“No. I haven’t forgotten.” I ducked my face and leaned my elbows on the table. I stared at my clasped hands. Ever so slowly, I shook my head, my voice quiet. “I don’t want to marry a stranger. I can’t. I won’t. And I only have a day and a half left before I’m too old to join the Corporate Army.”
“And there’s only a few weeks left before you must say ‘I do.’ By law. I’ve waited as long as I could. But you’re almost twenty-five now. You didn’t pick anyone to marry, so I made the hard choice for you.”
No, I was making the hard choice.
I continued to gaze at my clasped hands. “I wish you would reconsider.”
“I can’t. I won’t, as you said.” He turned and walked back into the kitchen. “I have a meeting I’m getting ready for, so don’t disturb me. I’ll be working until later tonight.”
“Father?” I glanced up, pleading with my eyes. “Please…”
He shook his head one last time. “No.” His eyes scanned my face, softening a minor degree. “Your fiancé will be here tomorrow. You’ll be able to meet him then. I promise you that I’ve picked the best I can. I do believe you’ll like him.”
My eyes widened to the extreme. “Tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Yes, I thought it would be best for you two to have a few days together before…” He trailed off and sighed. “Well, you’ll get to meet him soon enough.”
I could only gawk at my father.
“He truly is handsome.” He winked as he exited into his office.
Fuck. Me.
CHAPTER TWO
I punched a code into the door, my fingers shaking with anger. The light turned green. I jerked the long handle sideways and exhaled in appreciation as the large food locker’s freezing air hit my face. I stepped from the loading dock into the refrigeration unit and took my time winding through the maze of product. When my skin was properly chilled and no longer flushed with frustration, I walked through the far door and into a dimly lit hallway.
The walls were painted ivory, and the floor was made of dark silver concrete. It was a hallway I’d stumbled through—in a drunken stupor—many times. I walked with forced patience, more than ready to sit down where there were plenty of bottles of alcohol. The burn of hard liquor running down my throat would be a welcome sweet agony.
A right turn took me to the back entrance of my favorite bar on base. Typically, it was filled with military personnel I knew well. But tonight, I stopped just past the door and glanced around. The walls of this place were paper thin, so I tried not to listen as a man peed inside the bathroom on my left. There were many individuals—every single one a male—sitting at the bar and at the free standing tables, all chatting amicably.
But they weren’t wearing the red uniforms of the Liberated Army.
The soldiers wore black military attire, a golden crown stitched on the material.
It was the Corporate Army.
I pulled my ball cap down a little further on my head as a few peered in my direction.
I had apparently walked in on their private party.
It wasn’t the first time I had done such. There were always different groups coming onto the base to meet with officials here. I just hadn’t expected it tonight.
My favorite bartender waved in my direction. “What’ll it be tonight, Poppy?”
Guilt for crashing their party made me hesitate.
Gina coaxed, “Come on, girl. I know you need a drink. I can see it on your face.”
I strolled toward her and sat on one of the two vacant high seats at the end of the curved bar. Gina was right. I did need a drink. Or three. Maybe a bottle or ten. Who knew how trashed I would be by the time I left here.
The bathroom door opened and shut behind me, and the place quieted down noticeably.
I leaned on the bar and dropped my forehead onto a crooked arm. I groaned. “I’ll take two shots of whiskey and a beer. To start with.”
She whistled loud. “It must have been a hell of a night so far.”
I peeked up at her from my arm. “My dad is dead set. He won’t change his mind.”
The man who had exited the bathroom brushed my arm as he sat down on the remaining empty seat in the bar. I slow-blinked as the occupants of the place chattered on with gusto once more. I rubbed at my left ear with annoyance. They were damn loud.
“Did you put up a calm argument?” Gina questioned. She placed my two shots down in front of my face and lifted a beer from the cooler under the bar. It, too, was sat in front of me. “I told you that you needed to speak rationally to him.”
“I took your advice.” I bounced my forehead against my forearm twice and growled. “My father is an absolute overbearing, stubborn ass. I thought I almost had him, and then he put up the brick wall.”
There was a quiet grunt from the man next to me, the one who had brushed my arm. “Most fathers are a pain. I have one myself who I would categorize just as you did yours.” He paused, and stated, “Gina, I’ll take another beer, please.”
My attention perked as the man spoke. His accent was delicious. I’d never heard it before, and I had been many places in my twenty-four—almost twenty-five—years on this wretched war-torn earth. The tones of his voice were like honey and chocolate, each syllable fighting for the most delectable cadence.
My favorite bartender was breathless as she answered, “Coming right up.”
He must be a looker for her to act that way. She was the most married of married here on base. Thirty years of marriage, four children, and ten grandchildren. Gina was exactly what the marriage law had in mind when it was enacted almost one hundred years ago. A woman to help populate the earth again after we all but destroyed ninety percent of the population from war. A broodmare, for lack of a better term. But Gina actually loved her husband, and he loved her. They were a perfect match, even all these years later.
I sat up on my chair fully and lifted one of my shot glasses to the right. To the man who had sat down next to me. All I could see from under the bill of my ball cap was a deep gray suit. It appeared to be made of the finest material too. He was definitely corporate in that outfit, and a higher-up corporate, but I didn’t see many men who wore it quite so well. It fit him snug in his broad shoulders, and where he had unbuttoned the jacket, his white dress shirt was snug against a flat, trim stomach. His gray slacks hugged his thighs to perfection. The suit was indeed tailored to fit him; it was an extension of his powerful physique.
This man was rich in a world that lived in poverty.
He was everything my father hated.
“To overbearing fathers?” I asked, lifting my shot glass a little higher.
The man chuckled, and it was like a sultry night on satin sheets. He raised the beer Gina had left for him before she blushed and scurried to the other end of the bar. A dark tan hand, strong with perfectly manicured fingernails, angled his beer against my shot glass. The two clinked together under the low-hanging light.
He returned, “To overbearing fathers.”
We both tipped our drinks back in agreement of our toast. The whiskey warmed my throat just as I’d needed tonight. I pushed the empty glass away from me and pulled my beer closer.
I twirled my drink in slow motion and stared down the neck of the bottle to the golden alcohol, my anger rising once more. If my father just had listened, I wouldn’t have needed to plan my escape tonight. I wouldn’t have needed to forge his name on the Corporation Army’s enlistment—which was illegal in all the wrong ways. Now, I would be leaving him behind for a future he did not want for me.
“Speak again,” the man stated.
My brows puckered, but I didn’t look up from my stare down with my drink. “Why?”
He didn’t immediately answer. But when he did, it was quiet. “Your voice do
esn’t hurt my ears.”
I chuckled. “That’s a new one.”
His shoulders shrugged. “It’s the truth.” He took another drink from his beer. “What’s your name?”
“Poppy.”
“That’s new.” He grunted and took another drink. “Last name?”
I didn’t hesitate to give him my middle name. I didn’t like people knowing I was the daughter of the great General Carvene. “My name’s Poppy Bree.”
He reciprocated in kind. “I’m Godric Leon.”
I took a slow swig of my beer, closing my eyes just to listen to that delicious voice of his. “Are you here on business, Godric?”
“I am. You?”
I peered down at my simple navy cargo pants and white t-shirt. I laughed outright imagining myself going to a meeting with the legendary General Carvene dressed as I was.
“No. I live here on base.”
When he took the longest drink so far, I waited. Just waited, with my eyes now open, for him to speak in that beautiful accent. He sat his beer down very gradually and paused. He leaned closer to me, and I didn’t move as he stole my remaining shot of whiskey.
When he downed that, he asked evenly, “Are you married, Poppy?”
The bar quieted once more, and I glanced in the direction of the throng. They were still talking, but it seemed more passive. Or perhaps I was just getting used to their disorderly group. I shook my head and pushed my beer away. I knew where this was going.
“No, I’m not married. Not yet, anyway.” I flicked a finger at him. “You?”
“I’ve never been married.” He drummed his fingers on the bar, his long tan fingers. “Your age?”
“Old enough.”
“For?”
“What you’re about to ask me next.”
More drumming of his fingers. “I need your age, Poppy.” He didn’t pretend ignorance.
I liked that about him.
“I’m twenty-four.”
His fingers stopped drumming. “And you’re not married?”