Excerpt: Stray by J.K. Hogan

Hi folks! J.K. here! I’m here to talk about my new project (you know, in addition to all of my traditional WIPs) called STRAY. Stray is a book I’m releasing by the chapter, free on my website (think fanfiction, but not). It’s a bit of a deviation from my normal M.O. of contemporary with a side of mental health issues, delving farther into world-building, futuristic tech, and combining human lore with paranormal fantasy. This story is purely for my own—and hopefully your—enjoyment. Read on for an excerpt!

About the Web Serial

Title: Stray: A Sentinel Story
Series: Sentinel: Book One
Author: J.K. Hogan
Publisher: Patreon
Release Date: Ongoing
Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Genre: Romance, Erotica, Fantasy, Paranormal, Shifters, Magic, Vampires
Goodreads
Read it for free at jkhogan.com
Blurb: All of the mythical creatures that howl, prowl, bite, and kill—from vampires to werewolves, from wendigos to witches, monsters to demons—are real. The Midnight Sentinel exists to protect the delicate human race from the monsters that wish them harm.

Sebastian Locke never asked to be a Prince among the Feliscindae, a race of feline shifters. He never asked to be the champion of an entire species. He never asked for responsibility.

Noah Cowan never asked to be abandoned by his parents. He never asked to be homeless. He never asked to fall into a reality where up was down, north was south, and nightmares were real.

Two men living in a dystopian world, post-apocalyptic several times over, in which all of things that go bump in the night truly exist, are drawn together by an intricate spiderweb of fate, duty, blood, and love.

There’s something about Noah. Sebastian is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but so are many others—those much more dangerous than he. In order to keep Noah safe, Sebastian must trust him with his most guarded secret: the truth of the supernatural.

Excerpt

Arliss laced his fingers together in his lap. “I thought you might not want an audience for this. I was trying to be considerate.”

“For what?” Sebastian growled, becoming increasingly irritated with each moment he was forced to stand at his father’s feet. “The considerate thing would be to stop with the theatrics and tell me why I’m here.”

“I had hoped consigning you to the Midnight Sentinel could save you, son. I really had. If I couldn’t force you to do your duty of carrying on our bloodline, I tried to at least instill in you a respect for the value of human life. Yet you remain…unmoved.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed as he thought about nightly patrols, training young recruits, not to mention his homeless shelter. “I don’t understand. I’ve done everything the Sentinel has asked of me and more, even when Cyprian came to see me in Beltrane outside of a conclave—which I had believed to be against the rules, but I’m no expert. So what is it that you think I’ve done?”

“Three nights ago, were you patrolling in Beltrane’s central park?”

“Obviously you know that I was, or you wouldn’t be asking.”

“Impertinence won’t do you any favors.”

“Neither will obeisance, evidently.”

Arliss took a loud breath in through his nose, visibly trying to calm himself. “Did you or did you not ignore a human being attacked by an Uluscindo?”

Sebastian froze. He’d known Arliss had the Praesidium watching him, but he hadn’t realized just how closely they followed. “The victim was a cretin. While on patrol, I caught him raping a girl—another human—but he escaped while we were helping her. As far as I’m concerned, he deserved whatever he got.”

“What he got was his throat torn out and his heart eaten, in case you were wondering. Ulus are carrion-eaters by nature, but one won’t ignore an easy kill if he happens upon it.”

Sebastian rocked back on his heels, wondering where exactly Arliss was going with all this. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Exactly. You don’t see. You knowingly left a human to be ripped apart by a Supernatural, when your job is to protect them!”

“Not just a regular human. A rapist.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Arliss bellowed. “It’s up to the humans to set their own laws and govern themselves. That is not your mission!”

“Humankind can barely wipe their collective asses, much less govern themselves. I think the girl he raped would agree with my decision.”

Arliss went still. “Then you are clearly admitting that it was a conscious decision? Not just a heat-of-the-moment act or a lapse in judgment. You knew he would be killed and you allowed it to happen.”

Sebastian lifted his chin, prepared to stand firm in his convictions. “Yes.”

“Do you realize that not only did you fail in your obligation to the Sentinel by allowing a human to be killed, but you risked exposing us all by not preventing a Supernatural-on-human crime? Is any of this penetrating?”

It was starting to, yes. Sebastian believed to the very core of his being that the rapist deserved to become a quick meal for the Ulus, but the risks in allowing it were starting to sink in. He licked his dry lips. “All right, I can see your point, Father. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” said Arliss in an ominous tone that told Sebastian he had something altogether different in mind to prevent future errors in judgment. “Petru.”

The fair-haired, newly-minted Captain of the Guard broke rank and came to Arliss’s side. “Yes, Excellency?”

“Summon the White Mage.”

“As you wish, Provost.”

Petru faded into the velvet-draped wings just as Arliss’s words sunk in for Sebastian. His eyes widened and his head spun with a sudden wave of vertigo. “What? No!”

“Sebastian the Lucent, White Prince of the Northern Territories, I charge you with gross negligence which directly led to the death of a human. The penalty for this can be anything from banishment to imprisonment as deemed befitting by the White Mage.”

“Father—”

“You’re lucky it isn’t death!” Arliss roared. “A man of a lesser station, or one who committed crimes in the past mightn’t’ve been so fortunate. You will defer to Nikhil’s judgment in this matter.” Arliss looked away.

Now Sebastian’s outsides were trembling as well, because he found all deliberate magick terrifying, and knowing that it was about to be used to punish him severely was a paralyzing reality.

Every Provost kept within his or her Court both a White Mage and a Dark Mage, named such for the type of magick each practices. While White Mages were tenuous allies to the Feliscindae, Dark Mages were enemies. Each sent emissaries to Court to keep one another from having complete autonomy, and unchecked influence over the Provost.

Sebastian had known Nikhil, the Locke’s White Mage, all his life, while he’d only seen Solen, the Dark Mage, a few times in centuries. It was only fitting that Nikhil be the one to mete out his punishment, a man who’d been closer to him than his own father.

The heavy carved mahogany doors opened behind him, and Nikhil entered wearing traditional White Mage ceremonial robes, the heavy red and black brocade trailing the carpet. This was to be a somber affair, apparently. Like all White Mages, Nikhil had white hair, though his was kept short on the sides, and longer on top and in the back, and his skin was pale, radiating a soft lambent glow. His hands were tucked inside his sleeves, and he kept his head down as he slowly approached.

When he finally met Sebastian’s gaze, Nikhil’s eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. He didn’t look away from Sebastian as Arliss reread the charges for his benefit.

“You will…handle this,” Arliss said to Nikhil, while making a vague gesture in Sebastian’s direction, his voice suspiciously gritty. “I wish to have no further involvement.”

Sebastian’s pulse leapt, and an undignified whimper escaped him as his father turned his back on him. He flinched when a warm came down on his nape, the touch gentle. Nikhil urged him to turn and guided him out of the room. Sebastian was in a daze, completely separated from reality. How was this happening? He was being…banished. Or…imprisoned. Over some human shit-stain rapist who’d finally picked on someone his own size and lost.

Sebastian knew he should be devastated—was devastated—but his body and heart were numb. At least he wouldn’t be facing execution, something that was far more brutal and horrifying to the Feliscindae than any other species. Human mythos was mostly based on the realities of beings they did not understand. That old wives’ tale about cats having nine lives came from snippets of Felis ethnology trickling down over time from the few humans who were privy to the knowledge.

A Feliscindo wasn’t entirely immortal. He would not die of natural causes and aged at a glacial rate, but he could be killed. He had nine regenerations, but the tenth fatal blow would be permanent. A Felis execution had rarely ever happened because of how horrific the method. The few times where a crime had been so unthinkable that the sentence was death, the offender was staked in the courtyard, not crucified, but impaled. That would almost always be the first death. Each day, after regeneration, the criminal was ceremonially killed a different way until the tenth execution finally ended him.

As Nikhil led him through the courtyard, Sebastian shivered while remembering the single execution he’d witnessed in all his many years of life. Instead of stopping, they exited through a gate in the wrought iron fence, and continued to stroll the grounds. Nikhil gave him a sideways glance as they walked shoulder-to-shoulder. “It will be okay, you know.”

Sebastian stopped and glared at the wizard, a man who had been more of a father to him than Arliss, and more of a brother to him than his real one, Dalian. “Will it, friend?”

Nikhil sighed heavily and stopped in his tracks. “Yes, Basti. It will.”

“Gods, don’t call me that,” Sebastian scoffed, even though Nikhil was the only one who’d ever said it without derision.

“Arliss would never hurt you, no matter what you’d done. You’ll probably find your punishment…unpleasant, but you’ll survive it intact.” He turned to continue their stroll to gods knew where.

Sebastian hurried to catch up to him. “Could we just get on with it?”

“Patience, Basti. Something you could stand to have more of.”

Sebastian glared, but didn’t correct him about the nickname again. He didn’t want to prolong him getting to the damn point. He just kept his mouth shut and followed. They traveled over the grassy, gently rolling hills of the grounds, until they were walking parallel to the edge of the woods. Nikhil pointed toward the tree line.

“Consider the Japanese arrowroot.”

“Huh? The Kudzu?” Sebastian asked, noting the dense thicket of vines draping over huge, ancient oaks until they had almost covered them entirely.

Nikhil nodded. “Many consider it a weed, a parasite, the way it covers the existing flora, shades it, and borrows nutrients. It is a delicate balance. When living symbiotically, the arrowroot adds valuable nitrogen to the earth the trees depend on, enriching the topsoil to help the vegetation thrive, and its deep root system prevents erosion. But if allowed to grow unchecked, it chokes the life out of the trees and blocks the sun from the grass, until everything around it withers and dies.”

Sebastian knew it was some sort of elaborate metaphor, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything until he knew what his sentence would be. He could barely contain his nervous twitching as he wiped his sweaty palms on his leather jodhpurs.

Nikhil turned to face him. “We are the kudzu. Sebastian the Lucent, it is time for you to learn what it is like to be the tree. Because you must remember we are, all of us, half human.” The wizard’s eyes filmed over, turning an opalescent milky white. “Shift. Please.”

What? If he shifted now, he wouldn’t be able to speak, to gesticulate, to…fight back. Though he was expected to accept his punishment without contention, it was his natural instinct to want to protect himself. “Now? But how can I—”

Somehow those pupil-less, white eyes managed to look imploring, almost sad. “Don’t make me force you, Basti. Please.”

Sebastian fiddled with the cuffs of his coat with trembling hands, before closing his eyes and allowing his body’s need to shift take over. Once he was in his Felis form, he sat, curling his long tail around his body like a shield.

“Thank you. It will be easier for both of us if you can’t argue.”

About the Author

J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?

J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and two sons, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit http://www.jkhogan.com.

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