Strength (Mark of Nexus #1)

• Title Page
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  
• Chapter Twenty-Four
  
• Chapter Twenty-Five
  
• Chapter Twenty-Six
  
• Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
• Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
• Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
• Chapter Thirty
  
• Chapter Thirty-One
  
• Chapter Thirty-Two
  
• Chapter Thirty-Three
  
• Chapter Thirty-Four
  
• Chapter Thirty-Five
  
• Chapter Thirty-Six
  
• Chapter Thirty-Seven
  
• Chapter Thirty-Eight
  
• Chapter Thirty-Nine
  
• Chapter Forty
  
• Chapter Forty-One
  
• Chapter Forty-Two
  
• Chapter Forty-Three
  
• Chapter Forty-Four
  
• Chapter Forty-Five
  
• Chapter Forty-Six
  
• Chapter Forty-Seven
  
• Chapter Forty-Eight
  
• Chapter Forty-Nine
  
• Chapter Fifty
  
• Chapter Fifty-One
  

Praise

“Carrie Butler's
Strength
captivated me from page one. She created an amazingly unique world that drew me in until I was up way past my bedtime reading.”

~ Lynn Rush, author of
Violet Midnight

“Carrie Butler has an amazingly unique voice as a writer that reads so naturally you forget you’re reading ... Butler doesn't try and put a new spin on Vampires or Werewolves. She invents her own world of secrets and superpowers. It's refreshing to read something with a new and creative plot in the paranormal romance genre ... I was literally carrying the book around with me everywhere. To my delight, it just kept getting better and better.”

~ Jessica Therrien, author of
Oppression

“Carrie Butler’s debut novel is brilliant, riveting, imaginative and seamlessly written.”

~ Lisa Regan, author of
Finding Claire Fletcher

“I love when a ‘bad guy’ has me feeling unsure about his ‘bad guy’ status. I won't say more, as to not give anything away, but Butler does a fabulous job walking this line.”

~ Kelley Lynn, author of
Fraction of Stone

“I devoured this book in two days - staying up until the early hours because I didn't want to stop reading!” ~ Kyra Lennon, author of
Game On

“I freaking loved every last word on every page.” ~
Scelest's Journal

“...This is Carrie Butler's debut novel, and I have to give her full praise for the way she writes. The characters really came alive for me, and I could totally 'hear' their voices. The storyline moves quickly, without any slow points, but isn't rushed. I was really hooked on this book from the very first pages.” ~
Read It, Reviewed It

MARK OF NEXUS BOOK 1

Copyright © 2012 Carrie Butler

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher.

Sapphire Star Publishing

www.sapphirestarpublishing.com

First Sapphire Star Publishing ebook edition, March 2013

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN:
978-1-938404-36-8

Cover Image: Yuri Arcurs

This is a dpgroup exclusive.

Ack
n
owledgeme
n
ts

First, a shout-out to God. Without Him, none of this would have been possible.

I would also like to thank:

My parents, whose unflinching love and support have always meant the world to me. I hope to one day be half as cool as you guys. My sister, who sparked my imagination by convincing me our living room was home to carpet-dwelling crocodiles; my brother-in-law, who helped me stay on target—round after round; my nephew, who provided the comic relief; and the rest of my family and friends who lent their support. You believed in me, even when I didn’t.

Amy Lichtenhan and Katie Henson, who led me by the hand from 2,000 miles away; the Sapphire Star Publishing family, who never ceases to amaze me; and the many editors, critique partners, and beta readers, who shared their time, knowledge, and feedback. You shaped
Strength
into the book that it is, and you’ll always be a part of it.

Dave Taylor, who suffers the beast; Melissa Maygrove, who shall henceforth be known as the Goddess of Grammar; Lisa Regan, who has waited over a year to sport her Team Wallace t-shirt; Nancy S. Thompson, whose candor makes me grin on a daily basis; Laura Callahan, who taught me how to count (chapters); Iain Carter, whose reactions are priceless; and two of Wallace’s first fangirls—Lindsay N. Currie and Trisha Leaver.

Last, but not least, high fives to the blogging community, my NA Alley sisters, and the #NALitChat crew!

Chapter One

I plastered myself flat against the wall, straining to distinguish footsteps from heart palpitations. He was close now; he had to be. My shoes gave a little squeak as rubber met linoleum, and I inched toward the corner.
Come on...

For the millionth time since I’d gotten to the seventh floor, I had to wonder if coming up here was worth it. I mean, I hadn’t even been back on campus for twenty-four hours, and here I was—caught in a game of hide-and-seek with the madman. What did that say about
my
sanity?

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best time to consider it. Whether I liked it or not, I was halfway to his suite and I needed to stay under the radar.

“All right, Madman,” I muttered, peering around the edge. “Ready or not…”

It took two quick scans of the hallway for me to finally drop my shoulders and let out the breath I’d been holding.
Thank God.
Brave face or not, I would’ve shit my Vicki-Secrets had he actually been standing there. The guy gave me the creeps, and we’d never even met.

It wasn’t like I needed to see him to know his type. He was probably some scrawny little recluse in pedo-glasses, lurking around the dorm in one of those throwback tees from the ‘80s. Or at least, that’s how I pictured him.

See, word got around last semester that muffled screams and thuds were coming from this guy Wallace’s room every night—and not the kinky kind, either. He’d been isolated since his roommate went off the radar in September, and from what I’d heard, never had visitors. For all any of us knew, he’d built a torture chamber in there and smuggled his victims in at night. What were we supposed to think with all that noise?

Complaints were issued, but only resulted in a dorm-wide e-mail reminding everyone to be considerate of their neighbors during evening hours. God only knew how much of our tuition went into that brilliant solution. It had no effect whatsoever.

Fear threaded through the spreading rumors and wove the tapestry of our own, personal urban legend. Right here in freaking Wilcox, Ohio. By the time winter break rolled around, the story had been stretched and pulled beyond all recognition. Believe me. I knew all too well how it started.

The reason I’d heard so much, and the reason I was braving the seventh floor at all, was Wallace’s next-door neighbor, Aiden—
one
of my very best friends. He’d been the one to tell my roommate, Gabby, and me about the commotion, long before it became public knowledge. We might’ve shared that story with a few friends, and...well, things snowballed from there.

I shook my head and stole another glance down the hallway. No use dwelling on it now. After being apart for a month, I wasn’t going to let a little anxiety keep me from checking in on Aiden. Not during the day, at least. It was time to get serious.

There had to be some way to get down the hall, through the suite door, and into Aiden’s room without attracting any unwanted attention. All things considered, the maneuver should’ve been easy. Auto-pilot.

Every suite in Reid Hall has the same formulaic layout—a common room with two double-occupancy bedrooms and an adjoining bathroom. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I’d been in their common room more times than I could count, squirming and waiting for Aiden to answer the door. But it still managed to freak me out. Every. Time.

Waiting in their common room evokes a whole new level of awareness. Somehow, I always feel Wallace’s tunneled gaze as I stand there—his eye tracing my every move through the peephole. At any given moment, he could rip his door open, clamp a hand over my mouth, and drag me inside.

Rena Collins—another virgin sacrificed to the gods of campus chaos.

I wiped my hands on my pants and drew in a shaky breath. Okay, with that mindset, maybe I deserved to become a statistic. Idling here wasn’t going to make this any easier. If I didn’t rip off the Band-Aid, I’d lose my nerve.

Pulling my shoulders back, I lifted my chin and strode around the corner. It wasn’t like I’d taken those self-defense classes for nothing. If Wallace jumped out and tried anything, I’d give him a taste of my heat-seeking knee. The poor fool wouldn’t know what hit him.

I straightened my spine and took another step toward the door.
Heh. Yeah.
Maybe if someone actually stood up to—

Hinges creaked and something slammed into me full force. The impact burned my nose and forehead as the world tilted back in a sickening blur. It all happened so fast. I hadn’t even seen the door open.

And, just like that, everything stopped.

Something—no,
someone
—grabbed my shoulders in a death grip and steadied me on my feet. I lurched forward, struggling to right my balance, and found myself nose-to-chest with a stranger.