Bone Deep

Bone Deep by Lea Griffith


Her tears will never reach Heaven.

She was formed of the earth, and time has hardened her into stone. To her marrow Bone is the coldest of killers. She is the only one of First Team who lusts for death. Yet even a killer’s heart can bleed.

He has never wept for his greatest loss.

Dmitry Asinimov knows well what it is to lose the ones you love. Nothing is thicker than blood, nothing. He has hidden his pain, but never has he stopped searching for vengeance. Now he’s close to answers, but first he must break the woman whose eyes whisper of pain and whose strength is unlike anything he’s ever known.

Bone and blood. Two sides of one coin. Retribution draws them together but before all is said and done they will learn love can either break you or make you stronger.





Dedication


This book is dedicated to all of my G’s BadAssAssins--Jess, Amy, Laura, Thaty, Kelley, Ange, Sarah H., Jennifer, Kasey, Fallon, C.C., Michelle, Sheri, Sarah C., Holli, Andrea, Diana, Kassi, Krystal, Danielle, Stephanie ,Megan and Brianna--You kick much ass and I love you, not just because you’re awesome, but because you love my killers.

It’s also dedicated to every reader who has hit me up via email or social media—you might not know what your words do but they are my bread and butter. You’ve given me the courage and strength to finish this book and while I can’t name you all, you know who you are. I hope you love what you read and come back to me for more.

Lisa Hart – This book wouldn’t have happened without you. Thank you for making my words shine.

Georgia Woods – Thank you for your unwavering belief.





Author Notes


This is a romance, but the themes present in this series are sometimes harsh and brutal. Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction.

Also, I have taken liberty with some of the places mentioned in this work. I try to stay as true as I can to geographical references—any mistakes are mine.

The Russian translations in this book wouldn’t have been possible without the generosity of Lolla Zvonova Stovall. Russian is hard, y’all, and for a girl raised in Georgia, that’s USA, they were damn near impossible. Thank you, Lolla, for your time and patience.

I must also give a shout out to Rebekah James. Her insight into the Hebrew culture was invaluable. I love you much, Reb. Thank you for your time and patience.





The Beginning


Arequipa, Peru

22 Years Ago

The night split open above her, the black fading to gray and slowly the gray to pink. Fingers of orange sifted through the clouds like a mother stroking her child’s hair. The colors bit deep into her mind, but as the darkness exhaled and gave up its breath to the light, all Bone knew was a pin-pricked numbness, and it was beautiful. She didn’t move except to breathe, taking in the dawn and recognizing this day would change so much.

Maybe she would leave this bright morning as she’d left that black night so long ago…maybe she would be different. Her belly swelled as she took in air and the rope taunted her. She was strung up, the burn on her skin having long since faded, leaving her marked but still alive.

Always Bone was left alive.

She had been forced to stand the entire night. When her legs became tired and she drooped in the hold of the rough bindings the short, bristly fibers dug into her skin, reminding her she was a prisoner. There were choices she had to make. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Live or die. She knew this to be true and yet the pinks and oranges of morning rained down, stealing her concentration and forcing her to remember.

Forcing her to hate. She was no stranger to that emotion—had been reared in its taloned grasp by her parents. But she could not control it and that made her suspicious of what she’d become. There was a tug inside her now—a craving she didn’t know how to name.

She shifted, feeling the wind caress her naked body as it brought stinging drops of fog. The air smelled of the ocean that existed beyond the white-capped mountains of this place she’d been brought to. These mountains were nothing like the plateau of Masada. They were higher and jagged, and they did not call to her soul.

Her mother said God was everywhere, saw everything, but Bone knew God did not live here. He’d abandoned her in this hellish place.

The gray mist that stalked these mountains never stayed very long but blanketed all it touched. Like the ocean it smelled of, the fog carried salt into her wounds, scalding the marks left by Minton’s rope. If she weren’t tied she imagined maybe she could float away with it, back to the sea—disappear beneath the waves and sink to the bottom. She would be carried away into the cold grip of the water and cease to exist. She was so tired. Maybe those waters would carry her soul home to Jericho. How she longed for that.

“The sky’s very blue, Gretchen. Why do you think the sky’s very blue?” The little girl’s voice was growing weaker, and it scraped across Bone’s nerves, tightening her scalp, calling to the demon in her that wanted to end the child’s torment.

Kill. Kill. Kill. It could have been her aba’s voice or her imagination. Her father’s tone had always been frightful, taunting the hate that lived inside her even though she tried to conquer it.

Bone had not been afraid in a long time though she couldn’t remember how many days and nights she’d been here in this place of black mountains and pain. The little girl’s voice made her heart pound and her skin prickle under the rope. She searched for the reason behind the phenomenon and found it…fear.