by Colt, Shyla
Bad Blood
Bad Duology Book One
Shyla Colt
Inspired Ink
Copyright Info
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
©2018 Shyla Colt
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic or print) without permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author’s rights.
Cover Artist and Interior Formatting Dreams2media
Contents
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Playlist
Deftones: Change
White Zombie: More Human Than Human
Rob Zombie: Dragula
Danzig: Mother
Rob Zombie: Living Dead Girl
Marilyn Manson: The Beautiful People
Shawn Mendes: In My Blood
Nirvana: You Know You’re Right
Johnny Cash: Hurt
Imagine Dragons: Whatever It Takes
TWENTY ØNE PILØTS: Lane Boy
TWENTY ØNE PILØTS: Heathens
My Chemical Romance: Famous Last Words
TWENTY ØNE PILØTS: Ride
Boy Epic: Fifty Shades
To everyone who supported me, and encouraged me to chase my dreams.
Bad blood: a feeling of intense hatred or hostility; enmity
Chapter One
KEETA
Nakeeta Alva walked through SoulStone burning a bundle of dried sage and envisioning white light flooding every inch of the building. Different energies traversed the metaphysical store all day. Some who came to her for advice and assistance carried negative energy along with them. From attachments to damaged auras, the building constantly housed diverse and at times conflicting energies.
She ended every day with a cleansing. Following her instinct, she zeroed in on a disturbance that upset her stomach. Blowing the smoke toward the books that lined the shelves, she moved closer to the front door. The incense burning in the holders helped fill every nook and cranny with the cleansing smoke. An inky black wisp of smoke rose up from the ground. She froze.
Her fingers clenched. The dark energy was alluring. It called to her, tempting her with its potency. She gritted her teeth. “Return from whence you came.” Blowing the smoke directly onto the tendril, she imagined a blazing white-hot fire, eviscerating it like a laser. The energy shattered and drifted away. She bowed her head, breathing hard. Today, she won. Rattled, she quickly finished cleansing and moved to the room in the back. It’s time.
Nakeeta focused on the deck of cards she held in her hand. She didn’t read for herself often, but the unshakeable sense of dread had become a constant companion. Each day, she walked further out onto the razor’s edge, certain she would run into one of the mishaps her mind conjured up constantly. Paranoid and anxious, the on-going experience left her frayed.
As a spiritual advisor, she understood how much the small things matter. Hunches, dreams, and gut feelings weren’t to be ignored. Descended from a powerful medicine man, and a potent Voodoo priestess from ’Nawlins, spirits and the other side were ingrained in her from the minute she was born. Taught to embrace the unknown, along with her unusual talents, she found owning her own metaphysical store the only logical career choice. It allowed her to use her gift to help others.
Inhaling, she let her mind go blank as she shuffled the Oracle Cards. Today was about receiving messages. Now I just need to get out of my own way and accept. She was too close to the issue. It made an accurate Tarot reading impossible. Oracle cards were different. This was akin to going to a trusted friend for advice.
She laid out her first card. A flip of the glossy rectangle revealed a maiden with white hair, violet eyes, and brown skin beside a white unicorn. Discernment. Not all was what it seemed to be in her world. The message was clear. Her need for caution was not an imagined one. Card number two was a beautifully drawn blush pink unicorn hidden among the petals of a flower nearly the same shade of light pink.
A misty pastel background lent to the ethereal vibrations she felt exuding from the paper. Rebirth. Major change was coming. In order to be reborn, one had to experience a death of sorts. The third card representing her past made her balk. The black unicorn lined in a fiery silhouette was proud and majestic.
It exuded a masculine presence. Anger. No matter how she tried to leave her mistakes in the past, they continued to surface in the present. Regret was a slow working poison she needed to flush from her system.
Flying high on her success in life, she dabbled in the darkness, confident she could handle the black magic. The events that followed had done damage to her psyche and her aura, which took a year to fully heal from, and even more to forgive herself for. Her stomach bubbled like a cauldron. The days and nights that followed that event rushed back. Tiny bumps rose on her flesh, and her hairs stood on end.
Praying there would be a change of tide, she flipped the fourth card to see what her future held. Receive. A brown-skinned woman with curved ears and amber eyes leaned against a white unicorn and held a crystal ball. It couldn’t be clearer. This represented her. Open to what? Inhaling, she forced her body to calm with rhythmic breathing.
Brow furrowed, she flipped the fifth card to reveal a unicorn reared back on its hind legs on top of a mountain. Sunlight beamed down through a murky sky, turning its horn into a beacon of light. Be open to the unknown, and leap without looking. It went against everything she practiced since she paid the price for her carelessness.
She flipped the next card and gasped. Two gray unicorns stood together. The male stood a head taller than the female. His stance was protective, and his soft brown gaze was full of tenderness for his mate. Butterflies floated around them. Mate. Someone would be entering her life to help her understand what was to come. Unlike before she would listen to the words of wisdom the card held.
She shuffled the cards with jerky, agitated motions. For comfort, she ran over the people and events occurring in her life. Instead of putting her at ease, the reading amped up her anxiety. Her concentration had been riddled full of ‘what if’ shotgun shells. There would be no figuring this out tonight. Growling, she released a puff of air, blowing the riotous black curls off her forehead.
She arranged the cards into a compact square, placed them facedown on her length of black silk, and wrapped them. Satisfied with her bundling, she returned them to the black velvet pouch where they lived, and pushed away from the table.
Stretching her arms above her head, she rose onto her tiptoes, releasing the tension that had built in her spine. Her gaze danced around SoulStone. The tranquil Caribbean-blue walls and beloved knickknacks she’d collected over the years never failed to anchor her to the here and now.
She fought hard for this place. Working two, sometimes three jobs to pay her bills and save up while she did readings for family, friends, and eventually clients on the side. The day she turned in her resignations, five years prior, had been a giant milestone.
A boom of thunder sounded in the distance, jerking her from her musing. She looked out the window. The blue sky had turned gray, and plu
mp clouds tinged a menacing dark hue blotted out the sun. A storm was rolling in fast, carrying a sinister vibe with it. The wind whistled outside, rattling the shutters on her windows. Urgency struck, setting off internal alarms. Her skin tingled and her mouth dried. Grabbing her black purse off the desk, she ran from the door to escape an invisible foe.
Fat, angry drops of rain splattered against the shop windows. Her hand shook as she twisted the key in the tumbler. As she stumbled away from the door, her ears strained to detect a threat. Cold water slipped down into the hollow between her breasts, and across her bare back. Shivering, she stepped into the light drizzle.
Her heels tapped a manic tune on the concrete as she strode down the sidewalk, clutching the handle of her purse. A chill that had nothing to do with the rain hit her body and penetrated down to the bone. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Nothing.
Her stride became a light jog. Ignoring the protest the soles of her feet made as they took the impact from three inches in the air, she made the fifteen-minute walk in about seven minutes. Her chest heaved with the exertion as she stopped at the crosswalk across her street. A vivid bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and the heavens opened.
She placed the clutch over her head to keep the shard-like droplets off her face as best as she could. Cars zipped by, throwing water onto her open toe-shoes. Squish. Wrinkling her nose, she willed the light to change. When the stoplight went from green to yellow, she mentally cheered.
All she wanted to do was get into her house. A few more feet and she could shut out the world for the rest of the evening. Screeching tires made her jump back from the curb. She lifted her head just in time to see two blinding circles of light.
* * *
Thick fog painted the world around her white. She wrapped her arms around her waist, disoriented and frightened. Unable to see more than an inch in front of her face, she stood paralyzed. Rustling in the distance set her heart racing. There’s something out there. A throaty growl followed by a long howl set her feet into motion. Lunging to the left, she took off full tilt.
A marsh-like ground gave beneath her bare feet. The scent of smoke and leather drifted up from the tan hide dress she wore. The material flapped against her skin. She stumbled. Her arms flailed as she struggled to regain her balance. Breathing heavily, she stared at the unyielding white, seeking clues.
The howls continued. They grew closer and more intense as more wolves joined in. Gooseflesh broke out over her flesh. The sound surrounded her as they circled her, boxing her in. She struggled to breathe as her chest tightened and her heart raced.
A large animal broke through the fog. She screamed, throwing her hands up to protect her face. The impact never came as the large, gray wolf with amber eyes landed beside her. She lowered her arms and watched as it grew to a two-legged man with dark black hair and dark eyes. His olive skin stood out against his breechcloth and leggings. A dark gray wolf pelt hung around his shoulders. She took a step back.
There was something evil in the depths of his obsidian eyes. SkinWalker. He held out his palm.
Ancestors, protect me. This was old magic.
“You are of my line.” His heavily accented English gave her pause.
“What?”
“You are my descendant. I will not hurt my own blood.”
“Where am I?”
“You are in the dreaming place. Not awake, yet not asleep. I have brought you here.”
“Why?”
“To show you where it all went wrong.”
Narrowing her gaze, she shook her head. “Where what went wrong?”
“Wait.”
The fog swirled into a series of tornadoes dancing around her like giant sentinels. She closed her eyes against the dizzying effect.
“Look.”
She opened her eyes in response to the guttural command.
They stood at the entrance of a cave. The moonlight shone down, illuminating the arch. A fire crackled in the center spilling its warm glow on the grizzly scene in front of her. The man sat in front of large stones fixed around the fire. A red lump rested on each stone. His mouth was covered with blood along with his hands. He grabbed one of the … hearts? Then, he took a large bite.
Her stomach roiled.
“I wanted more power than I should have had. Each animal has a spirit. When you ingest their heart still warm and coursing with their life, you take them into yourself. This is bad magic. I was warned. I ignored them because I did not understand what it would cause.”
He moved on to a dark purple lump.
‘What is that?”
“The beginning of the end of the work our line once did to save humanity.”
He lifted the organ to his mouth and sank his teeth in deep. Dark blood oozed down onto his hand. “It’s my first sampling of blood from a beast. One who walks only at night and lives on the life force of others.”
“A vampire?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Choking, he dropped the heart with a wet plop. His body twitched. He foamed at the mouth and fell onto the ground in what looked like a seizure.
“This was the start of my transformation and the weakening of the spell we cast to keep man and beasts separated. I did not stop here. I consumed the ones who walk as wolves under the moon and one of our own. A powerful medicine man.”
“You consumed human flesh,” she whispered, horrified.
“It is up to you to fix what I have done now.”
“What—”
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and pain flowed through her body. She cried out, arching as violent energy moved through her.
* * *
CREWE
The shush of the ventilator interrupted the silence in the room as it moved up and down, breathing for the woman who lay lifeless in the hospital bed. Her heart-shaped face was a canvas of blues and purples. They’d shorn her curls and shaved her hair down to operate, and then stapled her skull back together like Humpty Dumpty. The short buzz made her features sharper beneath the swollen flesh.
He tried to envision her before the accident, healthy and whole. She was an echo of her mother with a few of her father’s features thrown in. Beulah and Arve Alva had come to him seeking help for their daughter. Powerful, poised, and distraught, the couple had admitted to hiding their daughter away.
Nakeeta. He rolled the name around in his head. She was nearly lost to them. The van did a real number on her. It was touch and go. For a moment, he thought they were too late, and the one chance they had for a fresh start was gone. It took years to trace the correct bloodlines, and longer still to narrow down the cities. His people had no luck finding her until today when they were contacted.
He shuddered thinking of the failed attempts with the wrong people. The horrific results would stay with him for the rest of his undead life. The blood turned them into slaves—or worse, it burned through their body, ravaging them like an infectious disease.
Reaching inside his black trench coat, he removed a bag of blood so dark it looked black. Walking to her bedside, he swapped it with the O positive currently flowing through her veins. Regret sucker punched him in the gut as his blood traveled down the I.V. and into her system. Had he delivered a death sentence or discovered their salvation?
Either way, life would never be the same for her. She had bad blood in her now. It made him feel guilty. He never wanted this life, and yet he’d passed it on—the one thing he’d promised himself he’d never do. They were both victims to the wheel of fate. Once it spun, you learned to rotate with it or be crushed by its unstoppable force. Crewe held his breath and watched as the bruises began to fade slowly.
It wouldn’t be long before her body healed itself. Sitting in the navy-blue hospital seat beside her bed, he closed his eyes and waited for the transfusion to complete. They’d know soon enough if they got it right. He was tired. They all were. For years, they fought a losing battle as the spells that kept them in check waned.
M
ore and more Vampires walked in the day. Coupled with the madness ravaging them like a plague as the press of years weighed down on increasingly fragile minds, the situation had spiraled out of control. The blood of his friends stained his hands scarlet. Their ghosts haunted him, seeking justice.
The council could barely keep up with the cover-ups. He’d heard whispers of the Weres growing in numbers too large to be supported on their land. Time was running out. Once she woke, he needed to get her on the fast track to becoming their savior or prepared for the beginning of the end. Rubbing his temple with his thumb and middle finger, he did his best to relax. He needed to be ready for the insanity waiting to devour them whole.
Chapter Two
KEETA
Nakeeta’s eyelids fluttered open. Sunlight pierced her retinas. She automatically clamped her lids shut in response. Opening her mouth to cry out, she choked on something lodged in her throat. Gagging, she tugged at the length of flexible tubing, and thrashed in the bed. High-pitched tones squealed, stabbing her eardrums like sharp knives.
“Ms. Alva, please stop! If you pull your tubes out, you could do some serious danger.”
A hand clamped down on her wrist like steel.
“You’re in the hospital. You were hit by a van, and you’ve been in a medically-induced coma for the past couple of days. We placed the breathing tubes in because your brain was too swollen to gauge the damage.” Their words penetrated through the haze of confusion and she stilled. Memories rushed back. The blinding light followed by a pain unlike any she had ever experienced. It felt as if her bones splintered from the inside out and collapsed on themselves.