Fractured Dawn: A Fallen Gods Mythology Love Story (Slate City Gods Book 1)

Chapter 1

Heavy bass and flashing lights pulse to the rhythm of the dull ache forming in the back of my head. I ignore it and force my party-girl smile a little brighter.

So far Slate City’s newest nightclub has lived up to the hype with its trendy décor, trendy cocktails, and trendier clientele—all points I’ll be making in my article for the Slate City Star.

At least this assignment came as the perfect excuse for my real mission tonight.

Several college guys leer at me and taunt each other from a table to my right, and I pretend not to notice as I straighten the hem of my Celia West minidress. None of them look familiar—or interesting—and I silently will them not to approach. I’m too distracted to keep a rejection tactful.

“Seriously, Gabs. It’s not going to kill you to have a bit of fun while you’re here.” Rachel sips her cocktail through a tiny red stirrer. “I wish I was being paid to party.”

“I’m not being paid to party,” I lie.

“And I’m nothing but fun,” I lie again.

My friend rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying, you need this. Clearly your friends weren’t the only thing you ditched these last few months. Have you dated at all? What about the hot boy band behind us that’s been checking you out all night? Ooh, I call dibs on Navy Blazer.”

“The frat boys?”

“How do you know they’re frat boys?” She turns to look, and I tug her back with a scowl.

“They might as well have cardigans looped around their necks.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Then, what about the guy at the bar with the silver…”

I don’t hear the rest of what she said.

It’s hard to hear much of anything when my gaze snags on the most stunning man I’ve ever seen leaning against a pillar about a dozen yards away.

Wild blond curls frame a chiseled face straight out of an archangel painting. His tall, lean body is expertly fitted in a white dress shirt and tailored slacks that hug his muscular thighs.

Even the subtle details of his shirt are perfection—sleeves rolled to the elbows, top few buttons hanging open to reveal the smooth planes of a sculpted chest. Despite the dark ambience of the club, the man looks sun-kissed and yacht-ready.

But the part that takes my breath away is the way his potent stare is locked on me.

Who the hell is he and how do I not know him? My family has access to every elite circle in Slate City. Knowing who’s who in this town is practically in my DNA.

“Helloooo,” Rachel says, waving her hand in front of my face. “What about… Holy shit.”

I blink out of my haze to find my friend’s wide eyes gawking at the mystery man as well.

“Damn,” she whispers. “Change of plans.”

“Yeah.” I draw my club soda to my lips, hoping it hides how intensely I’m checking him out.

But there’s no chance of that.

The stranger holds my stare, making his own appraisal. Heat surges through me, igniting dormant sparks I’d all but given up on. My journalist brain spins with questions, but he doesn’t move to approach.

Do I want him to?

After all, I’m not here to hook up. I’m not even here for my job, although it provides a nice cover.

But it’s hard to remember anything with the way I’m burning up inside.

Somehow, I sense that man makes a lot of people want things they shouldn’t.

“There she is!” someone sings from behind us.

I turn to find Pedro and his plus one.

“Hi, babe,” I say with a smile for my former roomie. My grin widens when I spot the Hermès watch he picked up on our graduation trip to Paris last summer.

“Wore it just for you, sweetie.” He leans in for a quick hug. “I’m so glad you invited us tonight. And not just because you’re the only chance in hell we had of getting on the guest list.”

I huff a laugh. “Oh, don’t thank me. No one pulls strings like my mother.”

He tilts his head with a compassionate look. “So, are you okay? I mean, I’m thrilled to hear from you, but it’s been months, honey.”

I give a small shrug, and he exchanges a quick glance with Rachel.

“We worry about you, Gabi. This”—he waves over my champagne dress and stilettos—“was not meant to hide in a stuffy high-rise.”

I laugh at his disapproving expression. “A six-thousand-square-foot penthouse isn’t exactly ‘stuffy.’”

He scoffs. “You know what I mean.”

“What he means is, tonight can be your re-awakening. Your coming out,” Rachel says.

“The princess of Slate City has arrived, everyone!” Pedro shouts, drawing a few whoops from the Ivy League Boy Band beside us. I shove him with a smile.

Fine. Yes. I’ve missed them. There’s no room for gloom with these two around, and I force down guilt that I only invited them tonight for one reason—access to the man on Pedro’s left.

“Good to see you again,” I say to the fourth member of our group.

Rob Carnegie is Pedro’s older stepbrother. More importantly, he’s my father’s former assistant and my last hope for information. I’ve waited weeks for an opportunity to find out what he knows about my father’s disappearance. He’s ignored every message I’ve sent and subtle attempts to probe, so maybe I can be forgiven for taking more drastic means.

“Good to see you too, Gabriela. Speaking of your mother, how is she?”

“She’s doing well, all things considered.”

Rob stands stiffly, his hands folded on the high-top table like he forgot this is a nightclub, not a board meeting. It’s amazing how two people raised together can be polar opposites.

“I’m getting a drink. Anyone else?” Pedro announces.

Rachel throws back the rest of her pink cocktail. “Me. I’ll go with you.”

Pedro lifts Rachel’s hand to lead her through the bodies on the dance floor, and for the first time ever, I”m relieved to be alone with Rob Carnegie. I’ve always gotten an uncomfortable vibe from him. This moment is no exception.

Rob’s lips twist into what’s supposed to be a smile, I think.

“How about you?” he asks. “How are you doing?”

I offer a weak smile. “To be honest? Hanging in there. I miss Dad a lot, obviously.”

“It’s understandable.”

He scans the room with a distracted expression while I take a long sip on my straw.

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask if you ever met the woman he ran off with,” I say in a casual tone. “I’m curious about her, you know?”

His gaze shifts before landing on me. I’m not sure if he’s uneasy because he knows the entire story about my dad running off with a mistress is bullshit or if it’s because he just learned that I know it’s bullshit.

“No, I never met her. I’m sorry.”

I release a disappointed sigh. “It’s just so weird, right? He supposedly loved this woman enough to leave his entire life behind, and yet, the people closest to him didn’t even know he was seeing someone. He must have been ridiculously good at covering his tracks.”

Rob’s brows pinch, and I hold my breath.

“Well, I knew he was seeing someone, just no details.”

“Ah.”

I let the word hang between us, hoping for more information.

“I’m trying not to be mad at him,” I continue when he doesn’t bite. “I’m sure he had his reasons, but sometimes it’s just… I don’t know. I thought we were close. And then—poof—he disappears without even a goodbye.”

A rock lodges in my chest at the reminder. I don’t even have to feign emotion this time. We were close, and the fact that Dad disappeared without a word is how I know there’s more to this than an affair. He wouldn’t abandon me. I refuse to believe that. Something happened, and it must be bad.

“Your father lived a complicated life. There’s probably a lot that didn’t make sense to you.” Rob’s tone is still evasive and vague, two things I’ve come to despise over the last six months.

Ever since Dad disappeared, people have spouted half-truths that don’t add up. My mother’s made lying to me an artform.

Maybe I need to be more direct.

“Can I ask you something?”

His jaw ticks as he forces his attention back to me. “Sure, but hasn’t that been this entire conversation?”

I return a stiff smile. “If he was so secretive about leaving, how do you know it was because of a woman? How can you be sure that’s what actually happened?”

Rob’s expression darkens, and I’m afraid I pushed too far.

“Where are you going with this, Gabriela? What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just confused how someone hired to run another person’s life would have no idea that person was having a sordid affair and planning to abandon everything.”

His jaw tightens further. Something flashes in his eyes that chills my blood, and I force my gaze steady as he scans my face. “Like everyone else, I knew what he wanted me to know. Look, I get that you feel betrayed, but you seem to forget your life wasn’t the only one affected by his disappearance. My life and livelihood were disrupted as well. So was your mother’s. He hurt us, and you’re acting like we’re the villains.”

“I never said?—”

“Oh, please. You’re practically interrogating me right now. You don’t think I know that’s the only reason you invited me?”

Guilt seeps through me. There’s no point denying it. “So why did you come?”

“Maybe I thought it was time we hash things out as well.”

An awkward silence follows as I search for a response. “Glad we had this chat” feels ridiculous, and I have no intention of taking things further and sharing my evidence for why I think there are villains in this story.

His gaze locks on something to his left before he leans in with a hard stare. “A word of advice? Let this go and concentrate on moving forward. There’s no story here, Gabriela. Your father wasn’t what you thought. The end.”

The bite in his tone sends a shudder through me. My pulse pounds as my worst fears are confirmed. He talks about Dad in the past tense.

“Whoa. Who died?” Rachel says, returning with another drink in hand.

I wince, then realize she’s referring to the somber mood, not my father.

The teasing drains from her face as she studies me.

“You okay, Gabs? What happened?” Rachel’s head swings between us.

“She’s fine,” Rob clips out, drawing a concerned look from my friend.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” I confirm before this gets awkward.

The last thing I want is to raise more suspicions.

“If you’ll excuse me, I could use a drink after all,” Rob mumbles. He dodges Pedro, who lifts a brow at his stepbrother’s abrupt departure.

With a broad smile, I force the party-girl mask back on.

“Ooh, what’d you bring me?” I say, stealing Pedro’s glass.

His drink is syrupy and burns the back of my throat, but I swallow it down along with the rest of my disturbing conversation with Rob.

Once I’m centered, I toss Rachel a wicked grin.

“Okay, you were right. I’m ready to pull.”

Her worry immediately brightens into delight as she squeals. “You’re going for it?”

“Damn right I am. Wish me luck.” I discard the empty glass on the table and smooth my hair.

“Going for what? What am I missing?” I hear Pedro question behind me. “Wait. That guy? Jumping right in the deep end, huh?”

I twist back for another mischievous grin before stalking toward my unsuspecting prey.

But when I search again, the object of my lust is moving toward the exit on his phone.

Shit.

For several seconds, I watch his retreat. Even walking away, his stride is mesmerizing, confident and in control. I want to kick myself for not approaching sooner. At the very least, he would have been a great interview—and photo op.

I’m about to head back and call it a night when I feel a hand on my arm.

“Everything alright?” a deep voice asks beside me.

I turn and take a sharp breath at the new stranger.

Dark, messy waves accent the man’s defined cheekbones and mossy green eyes. Heat blooms inside me when his full lips curve in an easy smile that’s straight-up magnetic.

If tall, dark, and stunning is my consolation prize for the blond stranger exiting before I could say hello, I’m a happy loser.

“I need a favor,” I say with my best coy smile.

“A favor?” A smirk lifts the corner of the stranger’s mouth.

“See those people over there?” I wave toward my friends, Rachel and Pedro. “They insist I’ve lost all ability to have fun and be spontaneous.”

His smile breaks loose, revealing a subtle dimple in his cheek that’s not even fair.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there something I can do to help?” The playful glint in his eyes triggers another rush of adrenaline.

“You could dance with me. That would prove them wrong.”

His eyes flare with heat and amusement as he considers my proposal.

Around us the bass drops into an aggressive house beat that kicks the crowd up a level. My veins burn with energy I haven’t felt in months.

Not so long ago, thiswas all I did. Partied all night to shake off a day of grad school lectures. On track to graduate summa cum laude while embracing everything it meant to be an heiress to the Wells’ family fortune. I was Slate City’s “it” girl—and I could tag any man I wanted.

Now, dating feels so foreign, I can’t tell if I’m relieved or concerned that my flirting seems to be working.

The stranger holds out his hand, and I turn off my brain. Maybeshallow funis exactly what I need.

A subtle tingle runs along my palm when it meets his. The sensation is strange but feels… good.

Really good.

I glance up at him, curious if he feels it too, but he’s too busy leading us through the mass of clubgoers. The gentle buzz over my skin continues, making my heart pound with each step.

By the time we reach the dance floor, my tense talk with Rob is all but forgotten.

“This okay?” he shouts as we squeeze into an open space.

“It’s perfect.”

I slide my hands up his chiseled arms toward his shoulders.

Before I can think myself out of it, I lock my arms behind his neck and settle against his lean chest. It’s the closest I’ve been to another person in a long time, and my body is suddenly smoldering in all the right places.

“What’s your name?” His hot breath brushes my ear, sending shivers through me.

“Gabi. You?”

“Cian.”

“Nice to meet you, Cian.”

His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer.

Within seconds, I”m lost in sensation. The sound, the scents, the way it feels to slide my curves over his hard edges… I can pretend nothing’s changed, that I’m still a girl who doesn’t live each moment wondering if her father is dead or alive.

The song changes tempo, and Cian’s heavy hands settle on my hips, sparking another rush. Maybe Rachel is right. I’ve deprived myself too long.

Maybe I should…

Screw it.

I drag Cian’s mouth to mine for a kiss. His surprised inhale transforms into a playful suck and hard grip in my hair. Our hips grind together with aching friction, while our mouths open so our tongues can play.

He angles his head to deepen the kiss, and I dissolve into the hard heat of his body.

Fuck, he feels good. Tastes good. Maybe he has nothing I need, but he’s got everything I want.

I writhe against the thick outline of his arousal.

He tugs my hair back to expose my neck, and I moan as his soft lips spread tiny sparks along the sensitive skin.

It feels incredible, and I’m about to suggest we go to a private room when a piercing gaze fixes on me from across the room.

Scalding. Predatory.

The blond sun god from earlier is back and watching me with fierce hunger as I kiss another man.

The lights, the music, Cian’s mouth on mine, all of it becomes distant as I melt beneath the stranger’s possessive stare. I can’t tell from the fire in his eyes if he wants to murder Cian or join us.

Heat pools between my legs.

“You okay?” Cian asks, kissing the corner of my mouth.

Music still blasts at the same frenetic pace, but everything feels different now.

“What? Oh. Um, yeah. Fine.”

A twinge of guilt runs through me at the lie. I pursued Cian only to get stuck on another man mid-kiss.

I’ve never been a player, but that doesn’t stop my gaze from dropping to the blond Adonis’ mouth, now tilted in a subtle smirk. It’s like he’s enjoying the fact that he stole my lust from someone else.

He pushes off the bar and advances in our direction.

My heart pounds as the crowd instinctively parts for him, as though sensing his presence. His movements possess a hypnotic blend of power and grace, like someone well versed in the art of pleasure.

Taking or giving?

Cian breaks our kiss when the stranger taps him on the shoulder.

The man appears younger than I originally thought, mid-twenties, although there’s something in his manner that”s ageless.

His gaze rests on me, and my mouth goes dry. I’m burning up again as my fingers dig into Cian’s shoulders in a vain attempt to satisfy this sudden craving for someone else.

The stranger’s focus slides to Cian.

“Hey, man. I’m heading out,” he says.

They know each other?

Cian frowns. “Already? You just got here.”

“Sorry. Duty calls.”

“Right,” Cian says with a smirk. “Well, good luck, I guess. Not that you need it.”

The stranger’s full lips curve in a gorgeous smile. It’s a dangerous combination with the naughty suggestion of his perfect brows. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

In the club’s flashing lights, I can’t read the color of his sparkling irises but there’s something about them that holds me captive. I sense Cian’s attention but can’t tear my gaze away from his friend.

“Have a nice night,” the man says to Cian, shaking his hand.

Before either of us can respond, we’re watching the phantom’s broad shoulders carve a path back through the crowd. For the second time tonight, that man leaves me flushed without sparing me a single word.

“A friend of yours?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.

“You could say that.” Cian’s polite smile doesn’t match the knowing twinkle in his eyes. “You don’t want to get involved with that one, trust me.”

“Why? Is he a player?”

Cian laughs, pulling me in again. “No, darling. I’m a player. Thatguy is the entire fucking league.”

But as Cian’s lips return to mine, it’s not a kiss I’m thinking about.

“…Have a nice night.”

I can’t shake the feeling that the stranger’s parting words were meant for me.