Sharp Things

By Brennan Barrett

Declan has been critically wounded and his girlfriend is out for blood. Follow Belinde through a journey of epic retribution to the emergence of an evil god as Declan clings to life and an unlikely hero steps up to save the day. Bits and Pieces delivers the moments you hope for in a fantasy novel, then slaps your mental taste buds silly with the most unexpectedly hilarious aftershocks you could imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brennan Barrett
• Release date: Dec 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9780991833214

Brennan Barrett

Brennan Barrett is an off the wall fantasy writer from New Westminster BC in Canada. Being an avid fan of both comedy and the Fantasy genres his entire life has imbued Brennan with a straight forward writing style that makes for an entertaining read in anything his irreverent mind creates. Fans will agree, you never know what to expect next. For anyone that has taken the time to write a review, please feel free to contact the author via email [e-mail] There is always time for a thank you. Thank you to the fans that offer great ideas, you make the process that much more enjoyable.

Book preview

Sharp Things

By Brennan Barrett

Copyright 2012 Brennan Barrett

Smashwords Edition

ISBN (ePub) 978-0-9918332-1-4 

This book is dedicated to the unsung heroes of the world, those few

who strive daily to make the world a better place,

one person, one act at a time.

Discover other titles in The Adjustor Series at Smashwords

The Odd Job

Bits and Pieces

The Naughty Necromancer

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the Author

Chapter 1

The moon was full. A slight breeze was blowing in from the west and Belinde could hear the soft whir of a rooftop intake fan nearby. Although she was dressed like a comic book character and perched on the west-facing precipice of an office building, Belinde felt comfortable. Forty stories above the hard and unforgiving pavement, crouched like a cat about to pounce, she was calm. Son of a bitch, I broke a nail, Belinde said examining a fingernail. Well mostly calm, slightly vengeful and now a bit annoyed, but mostly calm.

A little over twenty-four hours ago, Belinde had booked a French manicure. She rarely treated herself to lavish whimsy but in this case the money spent was worth it. She had booked the last lunchtime appointment at a salon near the office and had gone directly from work, after getting Glen his lunch. Glen was such an asshole. Normally the experience of having her nails done was relaxing but Belinde had been fretting about Declan.

Time and time again she had wanted to approach Declan since the office scandal where Glen, the slimy office manager had almost managed to rape her during a New Year's Eve party. Declan had come to her rescue like a knight in shining armor. Of course he had no idea that he was interfering with her chosen method of feeding, at least not at that time. He had made a bit of a bumbling fool of himself in finding out later but that just made him more lovable.

Each and every day she had hesitated to tell Declan how she felt about him. The number of times that the little succubus had lain in bed with her phone nestled between her breasts, desperately trying to work up the courage to phone the big idiot probably numbered in the hundreds by now. Thankfully, the number of times that she had found herself in his neighborhood trying to work up the courage to ring the buzzer at his front door numbered only in the dozens. She couldn't put a finger on what had finally caused her to decide to take action. Armed with her best sexy secretary look and a shiny new set of nails, Belinde had planned to call Declan after her manicure and invite herself over.

She was finally able to sleep after that. When she awoke the next morning, she booked her appointment for a French manicure and packed an extra pair of shoes in her bag. A few adjustments to the outfit she wore to work that day would make all the difference later, but a sensible girl didn't wear heels like the ones she packed to the office. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Belinde was usually the cool, calm, sexy huntress. Declan, that big lump evoked silly girlish feelings within her that resulted in butterflies and blushing fits at the slightest touch or smile.

Declan had been a bit aloof at the office recently but that was common for him. At least it was common after she had refused to press charges against Glen. The ratfink Glen in his usual weasely fashion had been shunting most of his own work onto Declan's desk since that scandalous night and Declan was not happy about it. The strange thing was that watching Declan suffering in silence made Belinde want the man even more. Glen just made her sick to the point where she would not even bother to feed off him. Which, in turn, made Glen even more annoyed with Declan. It was not a comfortable situation at all. Belinde was prepared to do her best to make it up to Declan. She figured that as long as she could manage sex with him that ended with Declan maintaining a pulse, life would be good.

In the present, Belinde continued to crouch on the rooftop and sniff the wind like a cat. Now and then she glanced down at her broken fingernail. It reminded her of herself; still pretty, broken and a bit jagged around the edges, but with a little TLC and time, she would be whole again. The position she found herself in at the moment was far from what she had imagined when she had booked the manicure she had just ruined.

Earlier that day when she was returning from her manicure, Belinde noticed that Declan wasn't at his desk. It took less than a minute before she was approached by a co-worker and the first juicy speculation from the office rumor-mill took hold. From what she understood, Declan had been involved in a fight with Glen, he was apparently covered in blood from a shooting, and the police had been called. Poking her head into Glen's office, Belinde was surprised to find him also missing. Belinde had then begun frantically calling Declan's cell phone.

After attempting to reach him about twenty times, she finally decided to take a cab directly from work to Declan's apartment. Deftly following someone into the apartment building to avoid buzzing, she flashed her disarming smile at a paunchy middle-aged custodian who seemed put out by her lack of attention to protocol. He practically snapped off his own arm in his rush to hold the door for her. Surprising Declan by knocking on his door, Belinde found him standing in his apartment amidst what looked like the aftermath of a bar fight in Future Shop. Poor Declan was beside himself and Belinde had to blink away tears as feeling for the man bubbled to the surface. She had no idea what to say that might comfort Declan. It was awkward but just as she was about to offer ordering in take out so Declan could eat while she helped straighten up his place, everything got weird.

A British guy that Belinde had never seen before calmly walked into Declan's apartment through the open door. He stepped over the broken remnants of Declan's belongings and stood amongst the chaos as if it were commonplace. Declan didn't seem to be reacting much to a stranger waltzing into his home and Belinde found his lack of surprise disconcerting. The man introduced himself as Wellington. He was a strange mix of James Bond and a librarian. Belinde had the distinct feeling that he was gay but when he spoke, you listened.

The stranger calmly informed Declan that he was the new adjustor. Declan was already an adjustor at the office where they worked and Belinde had to wonder if there was another meaning behind the title Adjustor or had just been hired by another company. Hopefully it wasn't like 'Mechanic' the term for hitman, she had thought.

Then he talked a little more than he should have and told Declan the one thing she had been hiding for so long. When Declan heard she was a succubus, Belinde honestly thought she would faint. She had automatically corrected the Englishman on his usage of the term vampire without thinking and made matters worse. It took every ounce of self control that Belinde possessed not to kick the stuffy Englishman square in the nuts.

The most troubling thing was that Declan didn't even bat an eye at hearing the truth about Belinde. She realized, almost too late that Declan didn't believe what Wellington was saying. Well, why should he? Declan had, after all, been forced to rescue her from rape once already. Maybe Wellington would just shut up and go away soon, Belinde had thought hopefully. Then things just got stranger and stranger.

Wellington assumed that Declan and Belinde came as a package deal and to be honest, she didn't do or say anything to make him think otherwise. There was no bloody way she was letting Declan out of her sight until she knew what was going on. He'd been through enough already today, and for that matter, so had she. Who did Declan think he was, making her worry like that anyway?

Wellington put Belinde on the spot after that. He left no doubt that while she was every mans fantasy, she was shitty girlfriend material. Her secret was already shot to hell with holes, she thought so hiding her abilities was no longer an issue. After picking Declan up and carrying him to his car, Belinde joined him as if invited. Until he told her otherwise, she was staying close to him. Without being asked, she had settled herself in Declan's brand new car. A car that talked, had an attitude problem, and launched rockets at people. It was not exactly the first date she'd have planned.

Shortly after arriving with Declan at the estate in the countryside, Wellington had taken Declan aside to deal with some official paperwork. He had sent her off with Merrill, the receptionist of the clerical department. This was all fine, Belinde thought, because she'd probably wake up any minute to find she was drooling on her desk, tired after being up all night cuddling her phone. Sadly, it had happened before. That's the price you pay when you're a succubus that generally feeds at night. She didn't wake up though. She hadn’t been sleeping. She found herself in a real life dream and parts of it were amazing. Of course, like all dreams, parts of it were scary too.

The moment Merrill had Belinde to herself, the interrogation began. That was the only accurate way to describe her time with the curious woman. Merrill had immediately turned spooky and damn, there was a lot more to that shrewd little lady than first met the eye. At first sight, Wellington's assistant had seemed polite and meek, the perfect assistant who was always ready to help and probably not very popular in school.

Then a different side of Merrill came out that was chilly in its very own unexpected way. Merrill had asked Belinde what her motives were in following Declan to the estate. Her eyes had bored into Belinde's soul as she spoke. Belinde almost blurted, He's an idiot! Someone has to look after him! Upon answering, she unexpectedly held nothing back. She had told Merrill about the crush she had on Declan, the fear of giving into that crush, and possibly killing the man she was falling in love with.

Merrill had stopped her at this point to have Belinde explain further. Belinde had stared fixedly at her toes as she told Merrill about her feeding habits as a succubus and how she had feared what might happen if she ever tried to have a relationship with someone she was prepared to surrender herself to. She told Merrill about the times she had stood outside Declan's apartment building wishing that she had the courage to press the damn buzzer and just talk to him. Thinking back, that part made her sound like a stalker. But there had been tears, questions, and then more tears until finally the interrogation became girl talk.

Eventually Wellington had shown up without Declan. He had explained that Declan was in the midst of dressing for dinner and that he had a few forms for her to sign. This didn't seem like a big deal until Belinde discovered that the penalty for breaking every one of the signed contracts was death. She realized with dismay that Declan had probably signed all the same forms without even reading them.

The upside was that Declan had somehow managed to get himself hooked up with Elder Gods. One of the perks was that all good service went towards paying off karmic debts. To Belinde, any chance to wipe clean the slate of her past and purge her soul of the darkness it had accrued from years of killing was worth the price.

In her heart, Belinde knew she would follow Declan for as long as he allowed. While she couldn’t begin to explain it, she felt like she belonged to him. It was hard to explain, even to herself. Hell, it defied explanation, but Belinde honestly felt a higher power guiding her actions where Declan was concerned. Belinde wasn't a soulless vampire, she was a succubus and that meant her soul was intact. With a soul came guilt, fear, shame and all the other wonderful gifts that made it very hard for her to feed for so many years. The fact that she would never again fear the reoccurring nightmare of Declan discovering her dirty little secret was worth everything to her. The relief she had felt when Declan accepted her situation could not be put into words. So, Belinde vowed to herself that she would do her very best to keep the big lug out of trouble.

Now Declan was clinging to life in the estate’s infirmary. Every time the picture of Declan's broken and brutalized body came to Belinde's mind, she was caught between crying and slipping into a killing rage. Bran, the god of healing, had assured her that a risky treatment involving the blood of a titan and the blood of a demigod had saved Declan's life and that he would heal in time. She had nearly lost Declan twice in twenty-four hours and the tension she had been holding in her chest had been like a vice around her heart. Belinde had sobbed with relief.

As she regained her composure, Belinde calmly decided that she would kill anyone she could find that had a hand in Declan's injuries. There would probably be more of those creepy guys in suits, but someone had to be calling the shots. Whoever that was, Belinde was determined to find them and make them pay for hurting Declan. Looking down to the darkened street forty stories below, she thought, and they made me break a nail.

She had enjoyed a single wonderful night with Declan. While one night was often enough in romance novels, it wasn't good enough for her. Belinde had waited a lifetime to love and someone had tried to take that love away before she'd had more than a taste. So, while the only man she had ever been able to safely give her heart to rested and healed, she would take up his duties.

Everyone at the estate referred to Belinde as Adjustor but she didn't have Declan's heart or his soul. He had a purity of spirit that she still had to earn. The ability to transport herself from one place to another with only a thought kept Belinde safe even from a fall. Being able to transition from one place to the next in any position whether moving or still was a wonderful gift, but the downside was no exercise and that would make her fat. At least that was the excuse Belinde was using for leaping from roof top to roof top in the dead of night. A girl needed to stay fit after all.

Belinde was a living vampire with not only a desire, but a need to exercise her inherent abilities. 'The Kiss' had genetically altered her body to the point of perfection where sexual bait was concerned, but that didn't mean she was just eye candy. It also didn't mean that there wasn't a chance her figure would suffer if she sat around like a lump.

She was a succubus with near vampire strength. Belinde had Danish blood so she didn't tan well but she also didn't burst into flame in direct sunlight, and that was definitely a plus. The suns rays would greatly diminish Belinde's strength but at night, as Declan would put it, the shit she could do was pretty awesome.

Wind whistled past her ears as her leap carried her to the next building to touch down gracefully. Tonight Belinde was a different animal. Tonight, the moon was full, the air was fresh and she was not only in her element, she was fueled by vengeance. The beautiful little succubus had fed from her lover before his injuries and received a blessing from the currently appointed Elder of Elders, Odin himself. She had never known this much strength and she intended to use it.

The cool breeze brought Belinde's thoughts back to the present as powerful muscles bunched, and she sprang up and forward. Sailing gracefully through fifty feet of open air, Belinde touched down gently on the next rooftop and once again reached outward with her senses searching for a specific scent.

She had visited the standing stones again this evening, heeding Freya's warning not to transition directly into the stone circle. Transitioning into the circle was a right reserved only for one person, her lover and her lord, Declan Aingeal. At the standing stones, she had scoured the area until she found the clearest trace of the scent belonging to the one who had mysteriously killed a number of women without leaving a mark on them. In each case the warrior had been holding their own until the moment they died suddenly as if struck down by an unseen force. Strangely there had been no sign of a mortal wound, only a frozen expression of terror that was wildly out of character for such fearless women.

That was the scent she followed now. Her reasoning was quite simple; every organization had a hierarchy and if the one she followed wasn't calling the shots, then he probably knew who was. Catching a hint of the scent she was following, Belinde panned back and forth with her head; smelling, sensing, and tasting the very wind to pinpoint its source. Thankfully Belinde's quarry was somewhere in this realm, her realm, the world the elders called Midgard.

She saw no reason that she shouldn't be able to travel to the associated realms of Midgard, other than the fact that she didn't know how. She could fix that. As her muscles bunched beneath her, a devilish smirk spread across Belinde's face. If her quarry had stepped to another realm, she'd just have browbeat Wellington or Smith until they taught her how to travel between the realms or took her to someone that could.

At least sixty-five feet of open space flew by beneath Belinde as she made the current jump. Not the longest jump of the night, but close. The blessing from Odin had bolstered her strength to extraordinary levels. There was a lot more to a real blessing from a god than simply benevolent peace and goodwill. As she touched down on the next rooftop, Belinde remembered a night when she had fed too deeply on a man and could have used the extra strength a blessing from Odin would have given her to escape his friends.

She had found herself leaping from rooftop to rooftop that night as well. Her early days as a succubus had mostly been spent luring the human type of predator back to her master or practicing the endless drills of the martial dance that kept her master safe while he slept. As she got older, her own need to feed became stronger. She would often pose as a runaway to attract her 'dates' as she called them at the time. She had done this regularly since she was fourteen.

One night, shortly after Belinde had turned eighteen, she attracted the wrong kind of attention or the right kind of attention for a succubus. She had managed to get herself picked up by a biker with friends. He was kind of cute at first in a rough manly way. She actually felt welcome when he brought her back to the clubhouse to party.

Now, crouched atop a high-rise, sniffing the wind for the scent of her prey, she winced at the memory. The sex had been amazing, but how many girls had been lured back to that same clubhouse and reintroduced to society as prostitutes, she wondered. Belinde's mental musings came to a pause as she checked the wind. There was the scent again, stronger and directly west.

The next rooftop was much lower but in a diagonal path across an intersection. Her muscles bunched and she sprang. The jump caused Belinde to remember a night from her distant past when she had last been a creature of the night, leaping from one rooftop to the next. This time was different. Tonight she was hunting. That night she had been fleeing a biker gang after leaving one of their members lying dead on a stale lumpy mattress.

She wasn't going to make it. Her jump was easily a hundred feet. The longer distance she covered was made possible by her starting from a much higher rooftop. However, she would still reach the target a few feet low and splatter on the side of the building. Thinking of her broken fingernail almost made her laugh as she sped toward an awaiting impact. If it weren't for her new ability to 'step', a broken nail would be the least of her concerns. A few feet from impact, Belinde transitioned to a point she had chosen on the roof and reappeared walking calmly west.

A chuckle escaped her lips as she came to a halt. She would never have had to use the dance if she had possessed the skill of 'stepping' all those years ago. Her master had killed her family and taken her at the tender age of thirteen. If the horror and tears hadn't been enough already, the endless practice of the dance should have finished her, but by that time she was no longer entirely human.

Belinde had used the dance to defend her master on three separate occasions while he slept. One of those occasions had been from a younger vampire who had designs on her master's territory. The second had been a gang that had wanted the abandoned building the vampires lived in, and third was a deluded vampire hunter. The last had been the only time she had felt guilt for her actions in defending her master. Belinde had been very disappointed when the vampire hunter hadn't killed her. He would have been free to finish off her master if he had been successful in ending her existence.

Belinde had bloomed early. Already a budding beauty at thirteen, she had visions of one day marrying a good man and watching her father bounce her children on his knee as her grandfather had bounced her. Her master spared her from death that night. He had not fed upon her and