For Blood & Glory Read online

  For Blood & Glory

  Chronicles of the 13th Tribe

  Cassandra A. Hendricks

  Edited by Annetta Ribken

  Edited by Richard Crasta

  Edited by Tyler Hendricks

  Cover Art by Nathalia Suellen

  Enchanted Dreams Publishing

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

  Text copyright © 2019 by Cassandra Hendricks

  Cover Art © 2019 by Nathalia Suellen

  Typography © 2019 by Hampton Lamoureux

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Enchanted Dreams Publishing. In Accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at:

  [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-7328831-0-9 (paperback); Library of Congress Control Number: 2018915313

  ISBN: 978-1-7328831-1-6 (epub)

  ISBN: 978-1-7328831-2-3 (kindle)

  ISBN: 978-1-7328831-3-0 (hardcover)

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Dedication

  Courtney, this book—this journey, would not exist without you. You inspire me. Thank you for showing me what true strength and

  perseverance really is. I love you!!

  Payton, Kaetano, Sydney, Courtney and Tyler. Everyone deserves a little magic in their lives. You are mine. Expressing my everlasting thanks and love to all of you. You are everything to me. The embodiment of all my hopes and dreams. Your steadfast support has made this possible.

  My rock-star of a husband and soul mate Rodney.

  Where would I be without you?

  Thank you for loving and believing in me, always.

  John and Cassandra, you are exceptional parents.

  Thank you for loving me.

  To Grandma Mary, I love and miss you!

  I can’t imagine my life without any of you.

  To all the children of color. Your color is beautiful.

  Your heritage is beautiful. Like all other kids, you are gifts from God.

  Lift your head up high and be proud of who you are!

  To all the foster kids, kids with disabilities and all the children and families out there with challenges that sometimes seem too difficult to surmount. Hang in there and don’t ever give up.

  You are special, and you are loved!

  To the beautiful women and men of Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles (CHLA) who wield real magic everyday. Thank you for providing your special brand of love and support to people who need it.

  To my dear friend Eric. Fight on!

  Contents

  1. Reel Me In

  2. Beautiful Creature

  3. Natalie

  4. Pay It Forward

  5. 13 Minutes

  6. Now Or Never

  7. Operation Rescue

  8. Show Yourself

  9. Sefira

  10. Jelly Beans

  11. Blythe

  12. Speak Of The Devil

  13. Chase

  14. Dance Card

  15. Killin’ It

  16. Lightweight

  17. Yellow Brick Road

  18. Rule Number One

  19. Fervor

  20. Little Red

  21. My Bad

  22. Let Me Finish

  23. Awake

  24. Shrink

  25. Kaetano

  26. The Devil’s Spawn

  27. Bliss

  28. 666

  29. Footprints In The Snow

  30. Track Is This Way

  31. Blowing Kisses

  32. Surreal

  33. A Visitor

  34. Get It Done

  35. Black Rose

  36. Revelations

  37. Party’s Over

  Dear Reader…

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Reel Me In

  “Turn the music down! I want to make a toast.” Rick grabbed a few beers from the chest behind the wet bar and tossed them all around. A gust of wind rippled his t-shirt and shorts against his tall, lean frame and sliced through his hair, abetting his taste for the dramatic.

  “Here’s to badass Jake over here for comin’ through with a badass boat.” Nodding, he thrust his frosted brew into the air before taking a swig.

  “A boat?” Nathan, short, stocky and barrel-chested, stopped twirling his flashlight and stood up from his bench seat, chiming in. “This is a freakin’ yacht, dude. Cabins, wet bar, sun deck.” He wagged a finger in Jake’s direction. “You are so Jay-Z right now.” A chorus of laughter followed.

  Jake wiped the excess beer off his lips with the back of his hand and smiled. He was glad Nate had come along. In the short few years he’d known the guy, he never lacked for being the life of the party. “C’mon, Nate,” Jake jested. “You’re a Cali native—”

  “Oh, here we go. Here we go with California again.” Nathan thrust his hands in the air, spilling some of his alcohol in the process. “What’s Cali got to do with anything?”

  They’d feigned this argument a million times before, and it never got old. Jake shifted, juggling his beer between hands as he bunched the sleeves of his sweatshirt up well-toned arms. “You know how you Cali folks do it,” he replied, “I’m just trying to keep up with the 90210.”

  “Boats, man, I’ve rocked boats.” Nathan sipped his brew and smoothed his long crop of blond curls back with his hand. “Not yachts.”

  “I still don’t know how you managed to snag ‘The Commander’ from your old man.” Rick eyed Jake as he nursed his beer.

  Jake smirked. Judging by the looks on their faces, they didn’t think he’d have the balls to do it. Quite frankly, he didn’t. Jake Tolsom was crappin’ logs right about now. But, far be it from him to shy away from a dare, especially in front of his girl. His broad shoulders rested against the railing that aligned the aft deck’s covered patio; a cold lager dangling artfully from his fingertips. “It was a lot easier than you think,” he began, while raking fingers wet with condensation through mid-length, tousled brown hair. “I simply walked over to him and very maturely presented my case.” Straightening up, he puffed his square chest, dropped his voice an octave and reenacted a moment reminiscent of a cheesy television drama. “I said, ‘Dad, tomorrow’s Friday night, and you know how I am about my Friday nights. Make sure the boat is stocked, docked, and ready to rock by six—no exceptions.’”

  “Yeah. Right.” Nathan cut in, playfully jabbing Jake’s ribs. “Here’s what really happened. After you begged to take the boat out and Pops shot you down, you waited till he left and took her out anyway,” he said, folding his arms across his chest in mock satisfaction.

  “Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?” Jake winked as he took a seat and a sip.

  “Dude’s gone from choirboy to derelict all in one semester,” said Rick.

  “I beg to differ,” said Mariah. Dressed to impress, Jake’s girl was bikini-clad, covered in a long, expensive-looking, sleeveless cover-up; hair swept in an auburn, messy-bun atop her head. Emerging from the main salon, she sauntered over to Jake; draping her long, thin arms around his neck as she sat in his lap. “My man’s never been a choirboy,” she said, stroking his nose. When she leaned in, he got a whiff of that perfume that drove him wild. Howls and whistles followed.

  “
Hey, Karen, you cold?” Rick inquired of another girl sitting on a chair nearest the salon’s sliding door.

  Karen took her glasses off, placed them in her lap and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, I’m only shivering uncontrollably over here. Don’t mind me,” she answered, her short, brown, asymmetrical haircut blowing in the wind. From the look of things, she was trying to shield herself from the brisk breeze weaving through the outdoor seating area by sitting as close to the salon as possible. Judging by the way she was clutching her arms, her long-sleeved pink sweater wasn’t doing its job and the ‘sit by the salon’ tactic wasn’t working either. Jake was embarrassed that he’d practically banned them from convening inside.

  “You know, Rick would love to keep you warm,” Nathan teased.

  “Shut up, Nate,” Rick replied, cutting Nathan off before he could inflict more damage. Nathan was still laughing as Rick turned to Karen. “Hey, um, you want to borrow my jacket?”

  “Told you,” said Nathan.

  “It really is getting cold out here,” Mariah said, rubbing her arms. “It might be time to put on a jacket.”

  “I know,” said Jake. “The weather guy said it was supposed to be pretty mild, but there’s definitely a bite in the air.” With that, thunder boomed and light zigzagged across the sky.

  “Really?” Karen said, eyes to the sky, lips curled.

  “Dude. You see that?” asked Nathan, tipping his chin in the sky’s direction.

  Rick looked up to the sky, stroking the short stubble on his narrow face. “The lightning? Yeah. We might have to wrap this up early.”

  “That wasn’t lightning, it was something else. Like a meteor or something.”

  “Dude. A meteor?” Rick rolled his eyes, smirking. “Really? You are such the master exaggerator.”

  Nathan’s face screwed and the muscles in his shoulders tensed. “Why would I need to exaggerate?”

  “Then it’s the Heineken talking. It was lightning.”

  “Hold up,” said Jake. “I don’t care if it’s the second coming, ain’t no monkey stoppin’ this show.” He handed his beer to his girlfriend and patted her back to indicate he was getting up. “You know what?” he said, rising as Mariah repositioned herself on the bench. “I’ve got some blankets on deck. As long as it isn’t raining, we’re good. Give me a sec, and I’ll grab one for you.” He walked starboard toward the front of the yacht.

  “Thanks,” said Karen, her voice trailing.

  The crescent moon, riding slightly above the clouds, didn’t provide much in the way of light, but it cast enough of a glow to assist Jake with his search. As he passed the panoramic windows of the multimillion-dollar yacht, he smiled to himself and sniffed the cool air—never felt better. For once in his life, he was doing something he wanted to do, and it felt good. Nate was right. No matter how responsible Jake was or how good his grades were, there was no way on earth his dad would trust him enough to take out that darn yacht, even though he knew it inside out. He’d served as deckhand and first mate for years now. Rick could attest to that, as he’d spent more than a few summers himself helping out for extra dough. Sneaking the yacht out probably wasn’t the most prudent thing to do, but damn it if the old man didn’t have it coming. His dad cared more about the stupid boat than he did for him. Luckily, his father figure had a date this evening. They were usually all-nighters, providing the perfect opportunity for him to take the yacht for a spin.

  It took forever to get his dad out of the house. Jake told the crew he’d meet them by eight, but by the time he got out, it was well past nine. In his haste, he forgot a few things but managed to grab a few duffel bags worth of supplies. Not that the yacht was short of anything. It wasn’t. But good ol’ dad was like a bloodhound when it came to The Commander. One misplaced or broken item, and the chances of his getting away with this were worse than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. So, he placed his stuff on the foredeck, didn’t unpack, and his friends couldn’t use the interior, except to use the bathroom. Was it tacky? Yeah, but the last thing he needed was evidence of a late-night booze cruise.

  Here they are. A pile of neon bags were strewn haphazardly atop a couple of wooden folding chairs. Normally, he was a tad OCD when it came to being orderly. The mountainous mess tugged at his soul. But then again, it’s a party, right? As if on cue, someone cranked the music up. The pulsing strum and bass of Nirvana’s “School” blasted through the air. He kneeled, rummaging through the mess, when he thought he glimpsed something in the water that gave him pause. It was strange. Like—a glow of some sort. Curious, he dropped his bags and peered over the boat’s railing.

  An unseasonably cool, salty mist lapped his face and blew his hair back as his eyes searched the glimmering black sea. The waves were rougher now, no doubt. But nothing he couldn’t handle. He stood there, arms propped over the railing—waiting. Nothing. He returned to the bags, chiding his overactive imagination. Ankle-deep in aerosol cheese and toiletries, his ears picked up a distinct splash. Think I’m losin’ it. Dropping toiletries, he returned to his spot, convinced that something was out there. The music dipped sharply.

  “Yo, Jake!” Nathan yelled. “What’s up with the blankets, dude? Did you fall into the water or what?”

  “Guys,” Jake yelled. “Come over here and bring the flashlight. I think I saw something.”

  “C’mon man,” Rick shouted. “And the Oscar for best man in a dramatic series goes to…. ”

  Seriously? “Get the flashlight over here and hurry up,” Jake shouted back.

  Moments later, the crew was by his side. Jake snatched the cool, metal flashlight from Nathan’s hands, flicked it on, and scanned the deep water. Silence rang loudly as the group strained to make out something below.

  “Jay,” said Mariah, “there’s nothing out—”

  “Shhh. Did you hear that?” He practically covered Mariah’s mouth with his hand. “Sorry….”

  “Yeah,” Karen said, nodding. “I heard it. Like a splash, right? It came from over there.” She pointed.

  Jake’s light skimmed the waves until it found an odd mass bobbing in the water.

  “Oh my gosh. What is that?” Mariah’s hair fell forward as she leaned as far as she safely could over the railing to snag a better look.

  “Is it trash? No, wait. Is that a head?” asked Karen, eyes pinched. Abruptly, she pivoted on her heel toward Jake. “I think somebody’s out there.”

  Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed. “No way,” he whispered.

  “Hey!” Jake cupped his hands. “Somebody out there?” They waited; no response. Again, he repeated, “Hey! Somebody there?” Minutes passed. “Rick, flick the floodlights on and take the wheel.”

  Nathan raked fingers through his hair. “Dude, what are you going to do?”

  “What do you think? If somebody’s out there, we can’t just let ‘em drown. I’ve got slings by the stern. Rick, you know the drill. I’ll throw it out, and you circle around.”

  “Wait—Jake.” Rick grabbed his arm. “We don’t even know if anyone’s out there. That could be anything. Besides, even if there were someone, they’re non-responsive. If you throw the sling out and they can’t get it, then what?”

  “Then I’m goin’ in.” The words spilled from his mouth before he could even think about it. He peeled his arm from Rick’s grip, and Rick gave him one last look before trotting off. The rest of the group exchanged glances, and Mariah took it upon herself to pick up where Rick left off. Walking backward, she stepped in front of Jake and placed her hand gently on his chest. “Jake, I don’t think—are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  He knew what she was getting at and feared that if he paused, he might second-guess himself. With diverted eyes, he removed her hand from his chest. “We’re running out of time. Let’s go.” Sidestepping his girlfriend, he slapped Nate on the shoulder. “You’re the look-out. Countin’ on you, bro.”

  Karen chewed her lip. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Help Nate,” Jake an
swered in passing, as he ran toward the sling. Meanwhile, the boat was already circling.

  “Right there, right there,” said Karen, pointing to the mass.

  Jake snatched the sling from its pouch and threw it overboard as Rick continued to circle. Karen was right. It didn’t look like trash. That being the case, they couldn’t get too close. No use in trying to rescue someone if they were going to run them over.

  “Cut the engine,” said Jake.

  “Rick, cut it off,” Nate yelled.

  The engine died, and the boat was shrouded in silence. Jake’s throat seized tight as a fist. Okay, it’s now or never. His sweatshirt was the first to go, followed by his shoes.

  “Here.” Mariah handed him a neon yellow life vest, which he donned. “It’s dark out there. We could lose sight of you.”

  “That’s why I’m tying myself to the boat.” The knotted rope scratched his palms as he rigged it, securing it around his waist. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to reel us in.” Nate came running up, followed by Rick. “Extra slings right here.” Jake pointed them out. “Rick, don’t be a hero, use the davit.”

  “I’m on it,” said Rick.