Serving Absynthe

SERVING ABSYNTHE

PAYNE CRAVEN

CONTENTS

Untitled

Untitled

1. Absynthe

2. Absynthe

3. Trebien

4. Absynthe

5. Kaius

6. Absynthe

7. Amaranthis

8. Absynthe

9. Zaphael

10. Absynthe

11. Kaius

12. Absynthe

13. Amaranthis

14. Absynthe

15. Kaius

16. Zaphael

17. Absynthe

18. Zaphael

19. Absynthe

20. Trebien

21. Absynthe

22. BONUS CHAPTER…

About the Author

Also by Payne Craven

Other Books in Monstrous Hearts

HOPE BITES BACK - BONUS BOOK

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

Copyright ⓒ 2022 by Payne Craven. All right reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without the express written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any means without permission.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Payne Craven asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is available exclusively through Amazon. First Edition.

Edited by: Ria Hockey

Cover art by: Angelina Kerner

Formatted by: Jayme Maness

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Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Kathryn Elizabeth Blysma and Ria Hockey for making this book-writing stuff so much better! You guys are the dream team I have always needed and never knew I wanted.

To MikkiFaye PA for holding on for far longer than she should have.

To My Readers and friends Thank you for your support of this very awesome Adventure I am on.

And to my family who buys my books because they are proud of me!

And to anyone I missed cause I am exhausted from Writing this book!

Thank you soo much!!

Huggles!

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Warning: This book contains blood drinking in sexual situations. It should be read by persons who are mature enough to handle it. If you are squeamish you have been warned.

1

ABSYNTHE

300 years ago… the year 1822

Absynthe, my father roared from down the hall, why is your cat, who died last week, in my office rubbing against my leg? I felt him coming down the hall before I heard each jarring footstep pound the floorboards on his way to my room. Ah damn, I thought, I am in so much trouble.

Papa, I pleaded with him, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I flinched as he undid his belt and held it folded in one hand. He grabbed me by my hair, lifting me off the floor. I whimpered as he laid me over his knee and took his belt to my body. I clenched my mouth shut as tight as I could because if I cried out it would only last longer and he would hit me harder. He hated weakness, so I tried to be strong, but I was only nine years old. I went into the sanctuary of my mind, hid there, and eventually, he stopped swinging. As I shuddered in pain, he dumped me to the floor and calmly spoke, which honestly was scarier sometimes. I knew what I’d get with his anger, but with calm, he was like a coiled snake. I waited for him to strike.

We are God-fearing people, Absynthe, but you are a demon come to life. I have had it. We will be burning the cat, and I am sending you to St. Vincent’s Reformatory. They will get rid of the demon in you then return you back to me as a child of God. Now get up, collect the abomination, and come to the backyard. Do it quickly. I won’t be kept waiting.

I clambered across the floor looking for the small black kitten that I brought back to life. Within my heart, I felt a tie to her. I knew when my father burned her, it would burn a hole in me. My heart will never be the same again, and I will blame him for it. I scooped up the cat, who I named Shadow, which was fitting really. She let out a gravelly purr and tears began to fall from my eyes. I am sorry, Shadow, but there’s no stopping Papa now. I hugged her tightly and opened the back door to where father waited impatiently. He already had a fire going. He tore Shadow from my arms and tossed her into the burning barrel. A loud shriek coursed through my ears. I covered them but the sound did not stop. The noise had come from me as my heart broke into a billion pieces and burnt to a crisp. My father laughed in glee. My anger at him grew exponentially as I grew up, and little did he know that years later, he would go in much the same way.

Two days later, I was sent to the reformatory. It was a terrible place, dark, damp, and desolate. The nurses pushed me into a tiny padded room and locked me in. They did horrible experiments on me all in the name of God, but I refused to change. I was born a Necromancer, there’s no changing that no matter how badly they wanted to. I became a fairly feral child, biting, scratching, and attacking anyone who got too close. After seven years of torture, and not getting the response they wanted, they decided the next step was to do a lobotomy and make me into an empty doll. I knew it was time to get the hell out of there. The night before the procedure, I was ready. I waited until the night guard Frank brought me dinner. He was a predator of the worst sort. There were many here, but he was made of all things evil. I smiled sweetly and told him I would be a good girl. He unlocked the door to my cell and slipped inside. He set the tray on the small table next to my bed and turned to me with a predatory grin. I called him over to me, acting coy and innocent. As he reached for the button of his pants, I shook my head. Aren’t you going to kiss me first? I asked him with a blush. He pulled me against his body and pressed his lips to mine. I felt the life coursing through him and I wanted it. My power sucked the life out of him slowly at first, so he didn’t notice. As I sped it up, he cried out, but it was too late. I drank down his life essence and dropped him to the floor. Drunk with power, my magic buzzed through me, and I felt so much stronger. I pressed my hand to his dead heart and brought him back as my zombie slave. To say it was easy to escape was an understatement. My zombie, Frank, scared the smart ones, who ran, and ate the dumb ones, who tried to fight him. It was glorious and I was freed.

There was only one place I desired to go, once I was free. My power was much stronger after my feast. But it had grown through the years as I was confined, waiting for its moment to be set free. I felt it coursing through me, reaching for all of the dead that were spread out across the land. There was only one death I yearned for and through my search of the land… I realized he was still alive. Bully for me… I get to do it myself. My mind drifted back to my poor little Shadow, her second death the beginning of my intense hatred. Walking along the path set before me by my magic, it was not long before I found my father’s house. I told Frank to wait outside, and he obeyed. I entered the house and searched for my father. I found him in his office. He was older now, and life had not been kind these last couple of years. He was dirty, unkempt, and thinner than a rail. I relished in this knowledge. As I was suffering, he was too.

He didn’t look up until I spoke, Hello, Papa, my words like acid, spitting out of my mouth.

Fear lined his face and his eyes widened, Absynthe, he questioned. A moment later he sprang out of his chair, and shouted, What are you doing here? They didn’t tell me you were getting out! Begone, devil!

I laughed in his face, and called out, Frank, come here!

My so-called father looked at me in panic, You’ve made another abomination, he asked me as he reached for his sword.

Yes, but don’t worry, he’s not going to kill you, my zombie entered the office, Hold him down while I prepare, I tell him. And no biting.

My father’s face turned white as a sheet and he dropped his sword, You’re going to kill me?

Yes, of course, I am. After all, you are the one who made me into the monster I am. But do not fret, I won’t be bringing you back. I grabbed any liquor and spirits I could find and poured them all through the house. I covered my father in it next. Keep holding him, Frank, don’t let go. I grabbed a burning candle my father was using as light, and walked through the house, setting various spots ablaze as I went. When I stepped outside, I could hear shrieking, but this time it wasn’t me. My father and my zombie burned up in the flames, but unfortunately, it did not lessen my hatred. It burned as brightly as my father’s house, never to be dampened.

But this story isn’t about my father, not one bit. This is the story about me. Absynthe Cleaver, the Necromancer and Villainess, and my undeniable journey into finding that fate undoubtedly had other plans for my tainted heart.

2

ABSYNTHE

300 years later…Year 2122

Vivietia?… Vivietia?…Vi, I hollered down the hall of my massive fortress in the Simcoe Mountains of Washington. Well, what’s left of them anyway. Humans have destroyed the world, and there is so little green anymore. Where is that damn girl? I mutter to myself. I hear a buzzing of wings and soon she is before me in her fae form. I look her up and down. Her dark brown hair is sticking up all over the place, her clothing is disheveled, and her hazel eyes seem duller than usual. I frown, Were you sleeping? Go clean yourself up, one of my guards called in that guests are heading this way. I want you in human form and looking your best. It has been ages since I have had visitors.

Vi’s eyes widen, Guests? Yes, Mistress Absynthe. I’m on it. I’ll meet them at the gate. She bows and flits away from me as quickly as she came and I shake my head. She’s been my assistant for one hundred years, and she still acts