The Black Swan Inheritance

By Marigold Deidre Dicer

The striking Black Swan is native to Australia, unrelated to the seemingly pure White Swan of Europe. She is found in the strangest of places – from ugly mines to cultivated farms, peaceful bushland to violent coast.

Yet, she always shies away from humanity.

The Black Swan is always beautiful, surprisingly resilient and very, very powerful. Most Black Swans are wise enough not to use that power to challenge the status quo.

Most...

Anita had the kind of reputation in high school that no one wants to carry into adulthood, especially since she wants to be a doctor like her dad. Now at university, she is determined to be good, but one little end-of-semester celebration can’t hurt, right? Well, it can if she ends up having a one-night stand with a werewolf that triggers a dark awakening. Turns out Anita’s over-active libido has become more than something hormonal – it’s magical.

The Black Swan is a powerful legacy that brings both temptation and danger. Having now inherited the title and all that comes with it, Anita finds herself beset upon by ancient abominations that won’t take no for an answer. No wonder the Black Swan had been driven to seclusion and banishment in the past. But Anita is determined not to run away – she is here to help, whether the medieval dragon-wolf or the undead cultists want it or not.

She will be no one’s pawn. She will rise to the challenge.

If she can just manage to deal with her own flaws first. Anxiety, panic-attacks, and bouts of bitchiness does not a successful diplomat make.

DISCLOSURE: PLEASE NOTE
This New Adult Paranormal Fantasy includes regular coarse language, violence, sexual references and sex scenes.
There is also reference to rape. Not in any detail, but there is reference to it.
END DISCLOSURE

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marigold Deidre Dicer
• Release date: Nov 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9780994225306

Marigold Deidre Dicer

Marigold Deidre Dicer is my pen name (I'm Sarah Thomas)Marigold: For all the beautiful things I loveDeidre: For the old soul who resides within meDicer: For my love of stylised violence. Yep.I'm an Australian writer living in Brisbane, Queensland. I like to explore things in my writing that I would, quite frankly, never do in real life. Some of things my characters say and think I agree with, and some I don't. Therefore, I try to make them as much into real individuals as possible.Please check out my novel, The Black Swan Inheritance.

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The Black Swan Inheritance

By Marigold Deidre Dicer

Book 1 of The Black Swan Series

Disclaimer

The Black Swan Inheritance is a work of fiction. All names, characters, incidents, and places are products of the author’s imagination. This work is meant strictly as entertainment and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. There is no pancake restaurant in Brisbane that is full of vampires, so don’t go looking.

All company or product names are the sole property of their owners. Google® is a registered trademark of Google Inc. Facebook is a registered trademark of Facebook, Inc.

Copyright

Copyright © 2014 Sarah Thomas writing as Marigold Deidre Dicer

All rights reserved.

eBook ISBN 978-0-9942253-0-6

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, scanning or any information storage retrieval system, without the consent of the author.

Edited by Leiah Cooper of http://soireadthisbooktoday.com/

Cover Art & Design by Emma Wakeling of https://www.facebook.com/Emmasartbox?fref=ts and http://disturb963.deviantart.com/

Acknowledgements

To my mum and dad, for raising me to read books even if you never would read my own. Not that I would want you to, I think that would just creep me out. Thanks to my mother for introducing me to Enid Blyton, and to my dad for sitting me down and making me watch Genesis of the Daleks. I’m sorry it wasn’t as good as you remembered from your childhood.

To my brother, for being the one member of the family who actually got a qualification in writing. It’s too bad it disillusioned you from ever trying to write again. Better luck with numbers, aye? And thank you for reading my children’s fantasy series. Your feedback was seriously helpful, even if you could never say if it was good or bad. I will publish those books one day, I promise.

To Leiah Cooper, obviously for being my editor and talking about passive voice and other things I really should’ve known about years ago. You proved to me that I never learnt proper English in high school, even if I averaged B grades. I also need to thank you for being my friend. You always conducted yourself with kindness and grace, even when you were critical. That’s an astonishing achievement.

To my two friends from high school, (you know who you are) thanks for always being bubbly and enthusiastic when I talked about my writing, even when I went off on random tangents and started to rave a little mad like.

Contents

Chapter 1: The Claiming

Chapter 2: Reminders

Chapter 3: An Appropriate Reaction to Reality

Chapter 4: The Black Swan Book

Chapter 5: Nerves & Necromancy

Chapter 6: The Abominations

Chapter 7: The Kindness

Chapter 8: The Blood Debt

Chapter 9: The Sort To Ask Questions

Chapter 10: The Spring-Heeled Monster

Chapter 11: The Rape of Hippodamia

Chapter 12: Diplomacy, And Where It Gets You

Chapter 13: The Greyzone

Chapter 14: The Point Of No Return

Chapter 15: Marriage Magic

Chapter 16: Strong and Sick

Chapter 17: One Week Later

A Thank You From The Author

Chapter 1: The Claiming

It all began with this majorly trippy sex dream.

Now I was a healthy young woman, and I did occasionally (maybe) have the odd weird sex dream. But, and this was a little embarrassing to admit, I never actually... finished a sex dream. The other weird thing about it was I could not remember a damn thing that had happened. All that I knew was that I went to bed at 11pm after studying for my final exam, like a good girl should, and then I woke up in the dead of night completely drenched in exhausted sweat just, just spent. The weirdest thing of all was (and this was even more embarrassing) it was the best orgasm I ever had. That was weird, right?

So of course, it completely put me out of sorts for the Advanced Animal Structure and Function test I had that morning. I still aced the test (because it was a first-year subject and it only rehashed what I had already learnt in high school) but the whole day just felt so surreal to me that I kept messing up little things. For instance, I left my phone behind (I had never done that before) and I didn’t realise until after the exam. I was meant to meet my dad for lunch after I finished, but he wasn’t sure when he could get away from work, so he was going to text me. I had to ask my lab partner Mel if I could borrow her phone and if I hadn’t done that, I might not have been invited out that night.

We’re going to have drinks at the uni bar, but I think we should make a night of it, Mel told me. Put your number in my phone and I’ll text you later. You do drink, right?

I didn’t know Mel that well, but I knew her better than anyone else in my class. We got along alright, but her assumption was spot on – I had avoided going out ever since I started uni and I really, really tried to avoid drinking in public. Though now that the semester was over...

That sounds great, I answered and typed away at her phone. So... that’s clubbing, right?

Mel laughed warmly. Yes sweetie, we’re going clubbing. So see if you can wear a dress and some heels?

I grinned sheepishly, knowing that I would not last the night if I put on heels. Though perhaps that meant I should wear heels. I wanted to become a doctor like my dad, and I didn’t want anyone snapping dirty photos of me when I was stinking drunk. Luck had gotten me away with it in high school, but I had done some really stupid things back then. I didn’t want to tempt fate any further than I already had. Besides, I was a good girl now.

Dad wanted to meet for fish and chips near his work (he only had a half-hour window) so that gave me a bit of a walk through the city to calm down. Brisbane was an ugly city; I couldn’t deny that, but having grown up here, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Sure, we had the rare beautification project, and the botanical gardens next to the uni were pretty good, but the city still hadn’t recovered from its knee-jerk reaction to a population influx back in the seventies. Lots of Australians of a certain generation had migrated from the rural towns to the state capital, and in response Brisbane had torn down much of its heritage – beautiful old Queenslander-style buildings and homes were just demolished to make way for those awful, cheap eyesores that were easy to build back in the eighties. As such, the city was now decidedly... grey. Just, grey.

Coupled with the brown Brisbane River and the salty stink from what mangroves that remained, it wasn’t much to be inspired by, but it was home.

It was a blazingly hot day, so I was grateful for the shade from the ugly buildings and the wind-tunnel effect that made the walk bearable. I still couldn’t remember my dream, so I forcibly pushed the curiosity from my mind and thought about the future instead.

I graduated from high school last year with reasonable grades, but not good enough to get into a medical course straightaway. That meant I had to do a couple of years of basic biology before I could move into medicine. I knew that Dad was disappointed, though he tried to pretend otherwise. Hannah, my step-mum, actually seemed to be happy that I couldn’t get into medicine immediately, expecting that it would give me enough time to ‘find’ myself. She tried to convince me to take a gap-year and go travelling, but I wanted to be able to work as soon as possible and start building a foundation for the rest of my life. I knew she meant well, it’s just that Hannah was the sort of person who could live in the moment, whereas I could only live for the future (at least, since I pulled my head in).

My real mother died before I could remember, and while I’ve seen her in photos and visited her grave, I couldn’t properly imagine what it would be like growing up with two parents. Dad only married Hannah a couple of years ago, and they only started dating (to my knowledge) a year before that. So, there was just Dad and me until I was almost sixteen. I did like Hannah, even if I had no idea what she and my dad had in common. Or maybe that was part of the attraction?

As for my own love life, it was fairly non-existent. A bit like my social life, really. Dad put so much work into raising me on his own that I never wanted to let him down. I was always studying so much that I never really had time to make friends (or so I told myself), but when high school hit, it hit me hard. I struggled to get the grades I wanted, battering my pride, and I had no friends to support me. Feeling worthless and lonely, I ended up doing some pretty dumb stuff...

But, in the final year of high school I managed to get clued in (with help from Hannah, credit where credit’s due) and did the only thing that I could do – I completely isolated myself from the world outside of tests and assignments. That might not sound like a particularly happy ending, but it did mean that I stopped feeling so bloody miserable all the time. In the end, I might not have gotten the university prospects I wanted, but I had no regrets. I knew I had given it my best shot and that was the important thing. Hard work was the key to being a good doctor, Dad always said. I had to remember that. I had to keep working hard, to make something of myself.

I found him waiting for me outside the fish and chip shop, which really surprised me.

Dad! I hugged him. Did someone cancel?

No, Lily just read the appointments wrong, he said in his warm, kind voice. I stood back and looked at him. He seemed healthy.

Not stressing out so much lately?

Dad laughed. It wasn’t the stress! I’ve taken dairy out of my diet and I feel brilliant!

Oh, what? You’ve become lactose-intolerant? Wasn’t that hereditary? But, I loved milk!

It happens. Dad shrugged. I am getting older.

I shook my head in disbelief just as I heard something buzzing.

Dad pulled the buzzer out of his pocket. Ah! That’s us. I ordered for you, is that okay?

Calamari and chips?

And aioli.

Love your work, Dad.

I smiled as I found a table and sat down. Dad was in his mid-fifties, and was starting to grey, but I always thought him as healthy and impervious. I knew lactose-intolerance wasn’t the end of the world, but it reminded me that... well, he was getting older. Things could change.

Hannah was a fair bit younger than him, so that helped. She worked as bookkeeper in one of the inner-city suburbs, so I only really got to see her when we all had dinner together. Of course, we all lived together during my last year of high school, but that just made me realise I really wanted my own place.

Which I had now. Yay. I was a proper independent woman.

Fuck me, I was tired.

So, how was your test? Dad asked as he placed my order in front of me. The smell of good grub snapped me back with a bounce.

Easy. I know it will get harder next year but I think I can handle one summer course until then. It will still give me time to take on extra shifts to save up money, just in case I need to cut down on work next semester. And it will mean I could always drop back to three subjects if one of the semesters gets too difficult.

Dad smiled at me. Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.

’Cause I do. I dipped one the calamari rings in the aioli and started gorging. I didn’t realise how hungry I’d gotten.

You don’t want a break at all? Dad asked tentatively.

I frowned. No, I answered bluntly.

It’s just... Hannah and I are going away for Christmas-

I know that, Dad. Hannah already told me. It was the only time of year the both of you could get off.

And you’re alright with that?

Why wouldn’t I be? It’s your first holiday since your honeymoon, I reminded him.

But what are you going to do? Dad asked, seeming a little exasperated.

I laughed and waved away his concerns. I’ll be fine, Dad. What are you so worried about?

He didn’t say anything, just started eating his chips.

I hoped my panic didn’t come out in my voice as I asked again, Dad?

Have I sheltered you too much?

Wow. He really did have no idea what I got up to in high school. Thank goodness.

Okay, stop. I put my hands on the table. "I work hard because I want to. Everything I do is because I want to. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything in my life. I am happy, Dad. Do you believe me?"

He looked far from convinced. So, I had to be more convincing, then.

If it makes you feel any better; I’m going out clubbing tonight with people from uni.

I... suppose that should make me feel better, he grumbled.

I laughed again, though it was starting to sound forced. And it was forced – I was trying to ease his fears.

I’ll be safe, I promised. I’m not dumb. Anymore.

I know. Dad sighed shook his head. You’re right and I’m sorry.

Wow, I don’t hear that often. Could you write it down?

He laughed again and the knot in my stomach lessened. I hadn’t realised I had gotten so worked up. I thought I was past all that.

I pushed the thought away and promised myself I could have some fun tonight. I had to stop over-analysing things. I was bigger than that now. I was mature. Yeah.

My uncooperative brain flicked back to that damned dream, and I clenched my jaw in guilt. No. I could do this. I could be a fully functioning adult.

I wasn’t that girl anymore.

~

Later that evening, I tried on what I considered to be clubbing attire. I figured any old summer dress and heels would do the trick, but the difficult part was trying to match the one pair of heels I had with a dress that didn’t look ridiculous. So many of my dresses were ‘bohemian-hippy’ style and the heels... well, they were a weird brown colour with a fake fur tuft. I bought them in a weak moment, and had always wanted to wear them, even if they could never match any item of clothing, ever. Everyone had a pair of shoes like that, right? The kind that you bought because you absolutely loved them until you got them home and realised how outrageously tasteless they were. I still loved these shoes; I was just too embarrassed to wear them so the damned overpriced stilettos sat in the closet.

Somehow, I didn’t think a hippy dress and fur (although fake) shoes could ever work.

After an hour of trying to fix the impossible, I ended up slumped on my bed staring at the ceiling and trying not to look at the piles of clothing I had scattered around my room. Eventually, I came to the realisation that nothing I owned was conventional clubbing garb. In retrospect, this made perfect sense, because I never went clubbing.

I sighed and weighed up my options: ditch the shoes and wear flats, or buy a new dress.

My phone buzzed with the text tone and I found that Mel wanted to meet at the Pancake Place in an hour. I thumbed at my phone, disheartened, and started to scroll through my past messages for purely procrastination purposes.

Hannah’s name caught my eye, and it jogged my memory. Back when she was dating Dad, Hannah took me out shopping for ‘girl time’ and bought me a dress she said every girl should have.

A little black dress.

I jumped off my bed and dived under it, to where I stowed those excess clothes that I rarely wore. I knew I still had that dress somewhere (did I know that it would one day become useful?) but the real question was, would it still fit? Was sixteen-year-old me the same size as almost-nineteen-year-old me?

Almost. So very almost that I would have jumped for joy had the severely tight black dress not been squeezing the life out of me.

I sucked my stomach in and tried to breath at the same time. I turned this way and that, tugged a little at every inch of the dress just to try and stretch it... just... a little… bit! I bent over. I squatted. Gradually, the dress remembered that it was made of elastic material and gave in to my needs.

I almost collapsed on the bed again. I was exhausted, and the night hadn’t even started yet.

~

I wandered unsteadily through the dimming city streets, my heels tap-tap-tapping on the concrete. It was a mere two hundred meters from the train station to the Pancake Place, and I consoled myself by considering the ordeal to be training. Each step I took was different from the last – I was literally trying to find my feet in those damned shoes. Eventually, I settled on keeping my foot in the position the shoe forced it into the entire time, though it kept instinctively trying to flatten itself out. I had to pretend I was a ballerina princess on the way to a ball who had to stand on tippy-toes the whole way. Well, it worked.

Through it all, I made it to the restaurant without any topples or dangerous sways whatsoever. I felt reasonably proud of myself until I misjudged the single step into the restaurant and almost fell flat on my face.

Instead, I face-planted into a conveniently placed rock-hard chest and was enveloped by equally hard guns. I felt my face grow hot from embarrassment as I tried to apologise.

Don’t worry about it, love, said a rumbling voice. It’s not every day a random girl falls into my arms!

The giant laughed warmly as I tried to steady myself off him. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I kept my face down, apologised again, and hurried away.

Shit, calm down! I could feel my face burning hot. Don’t cry. It would be so stupid to cry...

Hey! a familiar voice shouted. It was Mel, waving from a long table where almost twenty people sat. Oh crap, did they all see that?

Mel waved me over and I gratefully hurried to her side. I took the chair that was empty next to her and tried to calm down.

Tell me you got his number, Mel giggled in appreciation.

I looked up to where the man was and saw him properly for the first time. He was built like a rugby player. I watched as the bloke cuddled what looked to be his girlfriend.

Oh, no phone number then? Too bad. Islanders are so hot. Mel’s voice was positively dreamy. White guys just don’t look proper with that many muscles, you know? But black guys are just built for being built.

I couldn’t help but throw Mel a disbelieving look – she was so white she was almost translucent.

What? I can’t help what I’m attracted to. She giggled again. Oh, sorry. Let me introduce everyone.

We’ve all taken the same subjects since the start of the year, Mel, the guy across from us said. I recognised him, but I had no idea what his name was.

Yeah, but there’re hundreds of people doing this course, Mel answered and started brazenly pointing at people for my benefit. So that’s Todd, he studied law for a year and a half before he changed his mind. This is Fiona next to me here- Fiona waved at me. - next to her is Dave, her boyfriend, and next to you is Aaron.

Aaron actually offered his hand to me. He must have been a mature-age student, though he didn’t look precisely old.

Are you straight out of high school? he asked me, before Mel could continue introducing people.

Uh, yeah.

That’s tough. I went travelling straight out of school. I taught English in Korea and Singapore.

Wow, I managed before Mel wrested control of the conversation.

And next to Todd is Ryan and Lexi-

And so, the introductions went on. As it turned out, I had subjects with everyone at the table, which did make it any easier to broach conversations. I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything to say, but as long as people kept talking about dodgy lecturers, and what they heard about next year’s subjects, I was fine.

Aaron kept asking me questions, which at first I thought was just him being nice but I eventually realised that he might be a little too interested in me. Thankfully, Mel seemed to take the title of the group’s chatterbox and I was often able to turn away from Aaron and towards her.

We ordered, and I had some sort of savoury crepe. Pancakes really didn’t seem the thing to eat before drinking, but I was not about to challenge what appeared to be common practice.

Have you ever been to Bass Beast before? Mel asked me, but before I could answer the guy across the table chipped in.

We can’t go to BB first, Mel. Let’s ease into it and go to the Irish first.

You’re no fun, Todd. They have a live band tonight and I hate live bands at pubs.

That’s because you’ve never been a struggling musician.

No I haven’t – because I did the smart thing and learnt something that could actually make me money.

Cold.

"You wanted