The Society Series Box Set 2 Read online

  The Society Series Box Set

  Books 8 - 14

  Mason Sabre

  The Society Series Box Set

  Mason Sabre

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Mason Sabre. All rights reserved, including the right to publish this book or portions thereof (except for reviews, news media reports, brief quotes with attribution, and purposes of promotion of this book or other novels by Mason Sabre in any form whatsoever.

  Written permission may be obtained from the author.

  Contents

  Free Books

  Also by Mason Sabre

  Team Sabre

  Places to find me

  Seraph

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bleed

  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

  Fractured 1

  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

  Fractured 2

  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

  Epilogue

  Martial Magic

  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

  The Forgotten

  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

  Epilogue

  Mortal Wings

  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

  Did you enjoy that?

  Places to find me

  Team Sabre

  Also by Mason Sabre

  Dedications

  Free Books

  Free Book

  A love not even death can break

  Henry’s Beginning

  Free Book

  Loss. Friendship. Hope

  It’s time to rise out of the ashes

  Phoenix’s Beginning

  Also by Mason Sabre

  Society Books

  Book 1 Cade

  Book 2 Dark Veil

  Book 3 Hidden

  Book 4 Exile

  Book 5 Fractured Part One

  Book 6 Fractured Part Two

  Book 7 Broken

  Book 8 The Forgotten

  Society Companion Books

  Henry

  The Rise of the Phoenix

  Death Awakening

  Broken Snow

  Seraph

  Bleed

  Chaos

  Martial Magic

  Enigma

  Mortal Wings

  Other Books by Mason Sabre

  Death Dealers (With Rachel Morton)

  Dead on Time

  Dead on Arrival

  Others

  Watch Over you

  Cuts Like an Angel

  Cuts like an Angel 2

  Cuts Like an Angel 3

  Lucy

  She Promised

  Skin Trade

  Non-Fiction

  10,000 Words per Day

  Write Better Scenes

  Patreon for Writers

  Team Sabre

  Wolf Club

  Join Wolf Club

  Do you want to join Mason’s Sabre Slackers club? From as little as $3 a month, you can be part of an exclusive club with access to unseen work, insights into what he is doing. Advance reader copies of books, mugs, paperbacks and even the chance to join Mason in writing a book.

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e

  Places to find me

  Join my mailing list for news, contests and exclusive content click here.

  Email me - [email protected]

  Find me on facebook - https://www.facebook.com/msabre3

  Website – Authormasonsabre.com

  My author page - https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMasonSabre

  Seraph

  To those who know me truly and still don’t disappear.

  To Nina Stevenson, whom this book is about. Thank you for joining my cast of characters.

  Book Eight

  Chapter 1

  Eastbourne had always been a quiet town—small, with a population of three thousand people. That was small on many scales. Small meant quiet. Except today. The sound of the first shot ricocheted through the village—the short, sharp burst of the bullet leaving the chamber. No one paid any mind to it, though, dismissing it as nothing more than a car backfiring. It was the second shot that made people turn their heads. Or maybe it was the screaming.

  The shop sat on the corner. Everyone went there. It was the kind of store where single mothers could take their children, dressed in their pyjamas, at night, because they had forgotten to purchase the milk for the morning. No one chased away the urine-stenched tramp sitting outside leaning against the door. He'd sit and wait patiently for someone to feel sorry for him enough that they would refill his cheap special brew.

  The priest stood at the back of the store. In his hand, he had a half-filled basket containing enough alcohol to rival any gentleman’s club. The drink had been in the basket before he arrived. He had found it. Not the basket. Shit no, that was the priest’s. What he had found was the right vessel. The perfect meat suit ... another one of the many fallen; another one not fit to wear the collar. He placed the basket on the ground beside his feet, gently, so as not to clang the bottles together and scare the would-be pant pissers around him. He pulled up his collar, straightening it, the whiteness of it under his chin.

  The people around him walked in odd ways, their spines bent and misshapen. Not through sickness or defects, but through the weight of their souls. He saw them ... the real them. Not the veneer that everyone else saw. Every single fucking one of them. It was rare to find a Human who could walk with a straight back. The priest waved his hand toward the door, a quick flick of his wrist, silently fixing the lock into place. No one would know until they tried to open it. When they would scream and run for it ... Only, they couldn’t.

  The priest started at the back—there was a man standing there, looking at the magazines. Not the normal ones, but the ones on the top shelf with the cover hidden inside a bag so as not to offend those holier-than-thou sort. He'd pulled one magazine down and was checking the adverts at the back. ‘Girls in twenty minutes to your house’. He twisted the gold band around his finger, absently, his vows in his subconscious, but not enough he might honour them. He took out his phone and took a photograph—cheap ass bastard wouldn’t even buy the magazine. At least taking himself to the bathroom and whacking himself off to the contents was a little better than what he would do.

  The priest raised his empty hand and curled his fingers in a half fist, the bottom two fingers curled in, his index and middle finger out straight. He stuck his thumb into the air, making a gun with his hand.

  "What the hell are you looking at?" the man asked, scowling when he noticed him. His mouth twisted in a disgusted snarl.

  The priest angled his head to the side. "Vengeance, my friend. Vengeance. One’s vows are made in front of the house of God."

  "Fuck you."

  "Fuck me?" The priest let out a bellowing laugh, rich, deep, thick, enough that the man stepped back from him, feeling the edge of the malice it held. "Oh yes, fuck me. No, fuck you." He lowered his thumb in a clicking motion and made a popping sound with his mouth. The man's forehead cracked open, blood trickling down his face. He stared at the priest, not knowing just yet what had happened. He touched his fingers to his forehead, coming away with blood. He staggered forward, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fell to his knees and then slumped to the floor.

  The priest winked as the man slumped, leaning into the shelves as he slid to the ground. His eyes stayed open as he landed on the floor—dead eyes staring up unseeingly at the priest.

  "You’re welcome."

  Next was a woman. She was pretty to look at, young, the kind of girl that one would take home to Mum and Dad ... the kind of girl to steal from your ailing grandmother who was too generous for her own good. The priest shook his finger slowly at her, tutting.

  "How will you ever pay all that money back?" he asked her.

  She turned to him, eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

  "From your Nana too."

  "What? Who are you?" She didn’t notice the man on the floor at first, her eyes on this stranger that had her number, but when she did, the priest smiled.

  He raised his hand again, clicking his thumb. The girl fell, faster than the man had. She took it straight in the head.

  It was when he aimed his unarmed hand at another woman and pulled the invisible trigger, blowing out the best side of her face and splattering the assistant with blood, bone and brain, that the screams began for real. The place erupted in echoes, fear-filled cries and delicious chaotic shouts that fed the priest. Fuck, this was glorious. One screaming orgasm. He could hardly breathe as the pack of rats scurried, all of them heading for the door ... the locked door.

  They threw themselves on the floor, lying down With their hands over their heads. One man stood at the door, hands raised up. Innocent ...

  Innocent? The priest laughed. Innocent—the biggest fucking joke of them all. The priest fired. Smashing the invisible bullet into the man’s head and sending him toppling onto an already screaming woman. If he thought she was screaming loudly before, it was nothing compared to when the man's brains slipped from the hole in his head and landed on her.

  There was a teenager at the sweet stand, a little skinny kid with pimples that would one day be pock marks. He ignored the priest behind him. He ignored everything. Another one of those grotesque Humans who thought themselves above it all.

  "Hey, kid," the priest said.

  The boy sighed, shaking his head, slumping as if it was just too much effort for him to bother.

  "Hey, I’m talking to you, kid."

  "I heard you." But still he didn’t turn.

  "You're quite a vulgar specimen, aren't you?"

  "Yeah?" He turned to face him, the piercing through his lip glinting as he put his head back and eyed the priest up. "Well, fuck you. How is that?"

  The priest stepped closer. Oh, this little shit. One day he would have a house, not his own, but one of those given to him, a wife, and three children. More drains off the state.

  "Do you think you scare me? Bible bashing kiddie-fiddler. Go back to bashing your dick in the pews."

  He reached out to the boy, going for his arm, head angled with curiosity as he observed this creature.

  "Don't you fucking touch me." The boy snatched his arm away.

  "I'll fucking touch you if I want to." The priest grabbed the boy by the shoulders, digging in bony fingers, pushing between the bones. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, delving into the mind of one so young. Vicious.