Ivory White : A House of Misfits Standalone Read online

  Ivory White

  cambria hebert

  Contents

  Once upon a time

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Epilogue

  AUTHORS NOTE

  ABOUT CAMBRIA HEBERT

  IVORY WHITE Copyright © 2020 CAMBRIA HEBERT

  * * *

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  Published by Cambria Hebert

  http://www.cambriahebert.com

  * * *

  Interior design and typesetting by Classic Interior Design

  Cover design by Cover Me Darling

  Edited by Cassie McCown

  Copyright 2020 by Cambria Hebert

  * * *

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

  Once upon a time

  a baby is born, so pure and privileged she could only be named Ivory White.

  Everything is perfect… until all hell breaks loose.

  Prologue

  Huntsman

  * * *

  “I want it done. Quietly. Quickly. Now.” The voice on the line was smooth and calculating. Malice saturated every calm syllable.

  These were the most dangerous people. The ones who ordered murder like they did takeout.

  Greed was an affliction, and it seemed people who already had too much were cursed with it. It was never enough. Some people always wanted more.

  That’s why they came to me.

  I got my hands dirty so they didn’t have to. Blood washed off just as easily as anything else.

  “Do you hear me?” The voice spoke again, the whiplike tongue lashing out because I took too long to reply.

  From across the street, I watched my target, the one whose death was being ordered like a pizza.

  I made a sound into the line.

  “I’ll be waiting.” The line clicked off, and I continued to hold the phone to my ear even though no one was there.

  I stared a bit longer before finally lowering the cell.

  This was a simple job. Easy money.

  Yet for the first time in my entire career, I hesitated.

  1

  Ivory

  * * *

  I began every morning here in the forest that grew within the city. Trees twisted and tangled up toward the sky. The avocado-colored grass and large rock formations were a perfect contrast to the high-rise buildings crowding the space just across the street.

  My feet were light on the path, barely making a sound as I jogged my way along the familiar route. There were other people out jogging and enjoying the quiet before the city awoke entirely.

  I ignored them.

  I was here for me and me alone. This was my time. The only time I truly ever got for myself. As soon as I slid back into the black car waiting for me on the other side of the park, my day would be gobbled up by everything and everyone.

  Nearby, a squirrel ran across the path and leaped onto the side of a wide tree. Wind that could almost be considered cold kicked up, blowing the designer jacket I wore against my frame.

  Suddenly, the sun, which had only just risen, was swallowed by a large, dark cloud, shrouding the park in shadows. Gazing up, I noted the moon still hovering. Only half of it was visible. It seemed ominous, as if the reason the sun suddenly disappeared was that the moon didn’t want to give up the sky.

  A cold feeling crawled up my spine despite the warmth of my body from exercise. With the sun hidden and the moon staring, my sacred alone time suddenly felt more like the beginning of some creepy movie.

  Up ahead, the tunnel under the bridge I always jogged through seemed menacing. A small light flickered on within and glowed orange, making the space seem haunted.

  Wow.

  My imagination was severely out to play this morning. Perhaps this was a sign that I would have a good day at work. Hopefully, the creativity kept flowing. Hopefully, it would be less… chilling.

  I almost veered around the jack-o’-lantern-like tunnel this morning but stopped myself. Why should I deviate from what I liked to do? I had run here daily for years. Nothing bad was going to happen. No one would dare—

  Oomph.

  A heavy, violent hand slammed down on my back, making me trip and stumble midstride.

  Panic clawed at my throat, and a shrill sound escaped me, causing even more pain in my neck. Trying to right myself, I failed because I was lifted off my feet completely, my body hefted into someone solid and much larger.

  I started to kick and scream, and at that very moment, a sweaty palm slapped over the lower half of my face and the kicks I launched were successfully evaded.

  The hammering of my heart was so fierce that pain pierced my chest, threatening to split my ribcage in two. Above the hand, my nostrils flared, and I tried to scream even though it was muffled.

  My body hit the concrete wall like a rag doll, my cheek bouncing off the rough, cold side before my body rebounded like it hit rubber and not something unforgiving.

  The body shoved in, slamming me back against the wall, pinning me there ruthlessly so I couldn’t move or run away.

  My lips parted, and a scream unlike anything ever released before formed inside me. The flash of a silver blade caused pain, not because it cut through my delicate flesh, but because it effectively stopped the forceful yell in my throat.

  “I don’t have any money,” I croaked, my normally cool, even voice unrecognizable. “But if you let me go, I’ll get it and give it all to you.”

  He shoved me even harder into the wall, and the same sore spot on my cheek that hit earlier scraped again. “I’m not
here for your money,” a low, foreign voice intoned.

  I tried and failed to crane my head around. Where the hell is my bodyguard? He always ran a little ways behind me so I didn’t feel crowded, but he should have been here by now. He should have been doing something about this!

  “Wh-what do you want?” I wheezed.

  “Your life.”

  I caught a barely there glimpse of myself in the shining blade the man brandished. My skin, which was usually white as snow, was now translucent. A blue vein ran down my forehead and across my cheek like some sick scar. My lips were also colorless, my eyes wide with fright.

  Like a living corpse. Like this man had indeed already started sucking the life out of me.

  “No,” I begged, the plea falling from my lips without thought. I’d never begged for anything in my entire life.

  But I would now.

  The flickering orange faded out, and darkness converged. The only light was from the ends of the tunnel, and it was dim at best.

  “Please,” I whimpered, somehow managing to get my arm free from between myself and the wall. When my icy fingers closed around the thick, warm wrist that wielded the knife, I was shocked.

  He didn’t even seem threatened by me. In fact, the beating of his heart was even against my back. His breathing wasn’t heavy. He was utterly calm. So in control that me grabbing the hand holding his murder weapon didn’t even shake him.

  The power in his body, in his wrist alone, outweighed mine tenfold.

  My fingers shook and fought for the strength he already had.

  I was going to die.

  Here, just blocks from my impressive apartment, in the middle of a peaceful forest that had suddenly turned menacing.

  I had only one thought. One single thought as the knife lifted, promising pain. My life was filled with so much, but in death, only one thing remained.

  “Daddy,” I whispered.

  The sound of the blade cutting through the air, so sharp it practically whistled, made me cower against the cold wall, anticipating pain. Violently, my head was forced back, my scalp screaming as my eyes watered, blinking up at the darkness overhead.

  Swipe. It was a sound, not a feeling, and suddenly, my head was released, making me stumble sideways.

  “Get out of here. Run away and don’t come back.”

  “Wh-wh—” I started to turn toward my attacker but was roughly shoved again.

  “Agh,” I cried, falling sideways. My hand caught the brunt of my fall, and pain exploded up my arm instantly. “Ah!” I gasped, falling onto my side, cradling my hand.

  Squinting down, I noted that my perfectly manicured, nails were scuffed, one of them broken and barely hanging on.

  “My nails!” I gasped, suddenly indignant. “What the hell?”

  Out of nowhere, anger rose up, pushing away the worst of my fear. I started to lunge toward the man.

  Slam.

  I cried out when I was pinned to the ground, his heavy body like an anvil in the center of my back. My throbbing hand pounded on the ground beside me as I struggled to get up.

  Strands of hair rubbed over my cheek and neck, making me pause.

  “Don’t push me,” the man growled. “I’m giving you this one chance. Take it and go, or die right here.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “I’ll go.”

  “Don’t come back. Trust no one.”

  “But I—”

  Snap!

  I screamed in agony, and he cursed, standing up off my body. The pain was actually blinding for a moment. At first, I thought he’d stabbed me after all, but as I writhed, I realized all he’d done was rip the fingernail off my hand.

  Blood dripped down my finger, spreading across my palm.

  Scrambling up, I staggered away, feeling his presence but too afraid to turn back.

  Cradling my hand, I lunged toward the other end of the tunnel, toward the light. Toward people who could help me.

  Hair brushed my neck again. Panicked, I reached up… grabbing a handful of air. I reached again.

  It was gone… I stopped dead in my tracks. Forgetting my painful digit, I felt all around.

  “My hair!” I gasped. “What did you do to my hair?”

  “Proof,” came the voice from the darkness.

  “Proof,” I repeated, my voice like a ghost.

  “You no longer exist, Ivory White.”

  He knows my name. That knowledge brought on a whole new level of panic. This wasn’t just a mugging. This wasn’t just some weird random act of violence.

  He really did come here for my life.

  He was letting me go.

  “Why?” I asked, my voice oddly calm. “Why are you letting me go?” It was dangerous, but I had to ask.

  “Consider it a debt I owed your father.”

  “Daddy,” I whispered again.

  “But if I ever see you again, you won’t walk away.”

  Gasping, I spun. The newly choppy, uneven strands of my hair flew out around me as I moved.

  He was gone.

  Light suddenly filled the tunnel, reaching toward my sneakers and filling the park with brightness once more.

  Shaken, confused, and radiating with pain, I limped out of the tunnel, stepping into the sun. I felt my eyes squint and blink as if I hadn’t seen daylight in years rather than moments.

  Up ahead, someone jogged down the path, and I raised my arms to signal for help.

  Nearby, a branch snapped, acting as a sharp warning. Alarmed, I folded in on myself.

  The sensation of being watched wrapped around me like wild vines reaching up from the ground to hold me in place. Shuddering, I whirled and saw no one…

  But I knew he was still there.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  If I made a mistake, he would slay me.

  At the very edge of my vision, a man concealed by all black slithered behind some trees.

  Trust no one.

  Frightened and confused, with his words echoing in the back of my scattered mind, I fled.

  2

  Ivory

  * * *

  So many people are going to get fired for this! I promised myself as I rushed down yet another dark, unknown street.

  The sun had long since set, the moon once again taking over the sky. I was still out here, and the more time that passed, the more confused I became. Cold seeped through the clothes I wore—clothes that were so inappropriate for what I was doing.

  Were there even clothes appropriate for running for your life?

  I snorted softly. Of course there were. There was an outfit for every occasion.

  A sudden sound from behind caused me to shriek and whirl. Black hair whipped around, slapping me in the cheek, making me whimper. Earlier, I’d caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a building. It was not good. Not good at all. All my glorious locks were destroyed. Hacked and uneven. Torn roughly from my head by a blade not meant at all for hair.

  Tears sprang to my eyes, and I dashed them away. Heart pounding and teeth chattering, I took in the area around me, expecting to see the hunter appear.

  There wasn’t much to see, though, because it was dark and none of the streetlights seemed to work here. “What the hell do I pay taxes for?” I muttered, still scanning the area around me but finding nothing.

  Seeing nothing didn’t make me feel better. In fact, it only made my anxiety grow. Just because I couldn’t see a creeper creeping didn’t mean he wasn’t there. I was being followed. Watched.

  Hunted.

  I might not see it… but I could feel it.

  A bitter wind kicked up from the side, pushing all my hair into my face and tangling the now-short strands like unruly vines.

  I nearly tripped over my untied shoelace as I hustled farther down the sidewalk, but I didn’t stop to fix the issue. You didn’t bother turning on the alarm when the house was already on fire.

  Tugging my hand into my chest a little farther, I adjusted the makeshift
bandage I had wrapped around my bloody hand. My nail-less finger still ached and stung, but the bleeding had stopped awhile ago. Probably because the sock I was using as a bandage had clotted up, dried, and was now stuck to the torn flesh.

  It seemed nearly impossible that this was happening right now. I had never in all my twenty-three years experienced anything even close to this. Attacked. Nearly murdered. Hair chopped off, fingernail ripped away. Threatened. Forced to use my sock—my freaking sock!—as a bandage. I had no money, no cell, no identification, and my feet had blisters from running around the city all day. So many times, I almost gave up and called someone to come get me. All I would have to do was snap my fingers and it would be done.

  But I didn’t.

  I was too scared. Confused. I needed to think.

  How could I think when I was stumbling around, lost in the dark, without any safety at all?

  At the end of the block, lights illuminated the sidewalk and music spilled out from a building. Even though the music was terrible, it was still a welcome sound. It meant I wasn’t alone. It meant maybe there was a safe haven within reach.