The Assassin's Daughter (The Hybrid Chronicles Book 1)

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The Assassin's Daughter (The Hybrid Chronicles Book 1) Page 1

by Shana Vernon




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Author Notes

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Assassin’s Daughter

  The Hybrid Chronicles Book One

  Shana Vernon

  Copyright © 2020.

  All rights reserved by Shana Vernon. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system without the written permission of the author. The characters, places and events contained in this publication are figments of the author’s imaginations and in no way reflect real or true events.

  To my husband and sons, who give me their unending love and support.

  Author Notes

  Cover by Christian Bentulan

  Editing by Paula Beaton

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  Shana Vernon’s Supernatural Squad: Join my closed reader group on Facebook, where we can chat and have fun. We’ll discuss Urban Fantasy (books, movies, and television shows), or whatever seems like a fun topic. Grab a glass of wine, a cup of coffee or tea, and let’s chat. Click here.

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people I would love to thank from the bottom of my heart for their contributions to my writing process.

  I have to begin with my husband, Nati, who has sat by my side patiently listening while I excitedly discuss all of my ideas about characters and plot twists. He has given me unending support throughout my process, and made the extra effort to help out so I can focus more on writing.

  Next, I would like to thank my main Beta Readers: Bianca, Eleanor, and Hailie. They have given me wonderful advice during my editing process that really helped my book come to fruition. I cannot wait to continue this process with you all :)

  Lastly, I need to thank my beautiful baby triplets: Ilay, Adir, and Nadav, who played nicely with each other while I wrote and babbled to them about my book. You cuties are my life and my motivation for working hard.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I drummed my fingers around the mug of hot chocolate as I stared at the door, impatiently waiting for him to enter. He was supposed to be back fourteen days ago. Occasionally there was a delay if he had a particularly complicated contract, but never fourteen days. Papa was a member of the Guild, an ancient organization of assassins, who accepted contracts against the worst members of society. The humans or vampires the Government either wouldn’t or couldn’t touch. In my twenty-two years of life, he had never taken fourteen days to make contact after a hit.

  The sound of giggling and hushed whispers came from my right, and I repositioned myself in my chair in order to hear more clearly. I peeked through the black locks of my wig and saw two girls who were huddled over a phone looking at the newest vampire dating app called V-date.

  “That one is seriously hot,” the petite brunette said to her friend, pointing to her screen.

  “Have you ever hooked up with one?” her friend asked, twirling one of her black braids around her fingers.

  “No way! Not after what happened to Stacy. She let one drink from her during sex and she was covered in bruises after.”

  Her friend rolled her eyes. “They aren’t all like that. You can’t lump them all together.”

  The brunette looked at her with eyes wide. “Oh my god! You let one drink from you!”

  Her friend shook her head. “No, but they aren’t that different from us you know. They eat real food. There is a vampire, Peter, from my psych class who always eats granola bars during the lesson. If it weren't for the bracelets they have to wear, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he wasn’t human.”

  I let their voices blend into the background as I looked around the quaint, little coffee shop Papa had picked out for our meeting place. I had come and sat at one of the mismatched, hipster-friendly tables and waited, day after day, for Papa to walk through the doors. Each day growing more and more unnerved at his absence.

  Every time he left, we chose a meeting point. A different location each time. The only constant was the meeting time. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed me that it was five minutes to two, which caused my heart to begin rapid palpitations like it had done every day for the past fourteen days at this time. Papa was probably not coming home.

  “Can I get you anything else, Miss?” I looked up and met the gaze of the middle-aged man in front of me. Based on the pictures lining the walls, he and his wife owned this little cafe off Dudley Square, in Boston, Massachusetts.

  “Just the check please,” I said and swallowed the remainder of my hot chocolate which had already turned cold, my hand trembling slightly on the mug. I handed him the cash for my order and watched him make his way back to the register, my mind not deviating from Papa.

  I crumpled up the wrapping from my blueberry muffin and tossed it into the garbage as I wandered toward the bathroom, passing a man sporting a bun, busy typing on a literal typewriter.

  That must be heavy to carry around. I ignored my thoughts and entered the bathroom.

  Today’s ensemble was a short black wig with full bangs, dark brown contact lenses, thick square glasses, and a collared black dress.

  Every time I left the house I had to use a different disguise to make sure nobody knew what I looked like.

  The only plan I had was to scope out Papa’s last contract and see if he was still alive. Before Papa left, he told me he was going to see Maximus Chernov, the head of the Russian Bratva in Boston, who also happened to be a super powerful vampire.

  I wasn’t typically worried for Papa’s safety since very few could best him in a fight. He was more skilled in combat than most vampires or humans, but it was unlike him to be gone so long.

  The Guild operated all over the world, so they used local assassins for each contract. That meant that Papa rarely left Boston.

  After readjusting my wig, I strode out the door into the blisteringly hot August afternoon, beads of sweat dripping down my neck. I had a few hours to spare before checking on Maximus, seeing as the Bratva did not operate during daytime hours, and I was definitely not dressed the part. For where I was going, I would need something a lot fancier.

  Maximus had his people involved in all sorts of criminal activities, but his favorite vice was gambling. I knew he often went to the hidden casino downtown a few nights a week and I crossed my fingers in the hope that tonight was one of those nights.

  As I walked down the street, I passed a line of people holding posters advocating equality for vampires. There were some human-led organizations that called for additional rights for them, and one of the groups were gathered to protest outside of the Mayor’s office. He was known for his lack of sympathy for our fanged friends.

  The vampires had come
out to the human population more than five hundred years ago, before humans were strong enough to properly police them. Their numbers had increased exponentially, so much so, that the government was unable to police them. Instead, they expected the Guild to handle most of the cases.

  A few hours, a long slinky black dress, blue contacts, and an auburn wig later, I knocked five times on the secret door to the underground casino. I tried to keep my mind focused on Papa, but I couldn't help the chill that swept down my spine at the thought of entering a vampire gang property.

  Many of the vampires were participating members of society, having regular jobs and paying taxes, but because most of the jobs that were available during the night were all vampire-led organizations, they stayed pretty separate from the human workforce.

  The door banged open to reveal a burly vampire with a scar down the side of his face.

  What could permanently scar a vamp?

  He grinned a mouthful of fangs at me and waved me inside, locking the door behind me. You would think that a secret underground casino would be shabby, but this place was absolutely magnificent. I glanced around at the immaculately dressed mixture of vampires and humans walking about, carrying cocktails, laughing, and enjoying the low-lit environment.

  There were tables sectioned off to the sides with curtains hiding them from view, to allow for private feeding sessions. If I hadn’t been aware of vampires my entire life, the mere thought of people drinking human blood would send shivers down my spine, but I had become hardened to the concept. It was just a normal part of life for my generation, though there were some people like the brunette from the cafe who were still freaked out at the prospect.

  The sensuous jazz melody drew me in as I descended the carpeted staircase onto the main level, the faint scent of cedar reaching my nose. This was not the kind of casino where you would find slot machines. Each table in this area had a minimum buy-in of one thousand dollars, and there was a VIP section in the back for the high ballers wanting to play into the millions.

  I passed by the blackjack tables on my way to the bar, a woman squealing and jumping up and down as she collected her winnings. If I was seen lurking around the tables without a drink in my hand, people would start to get suspicious. I sat down on the plush leather bar stool, waiting until the bartender focused on me and ordered a martini, my mouth dry.

  Once I had my drink in hand, I swiveled around in my seat to search the crowd for Maximus. I focused my attention on the VIP section for ten minutes before finally locating him. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw his blonde, shoulder-length hair poking out from behind a seat at one of the thousand-dollar tables.

  I knocked back the rest of my martini, not loving the dry flavor of the vermouth, and placed the empty glass on the bar with the olives still inside. Weaving my way through the crowd I strolled up to Maximus’ table, noting the way his grey, tailored suit formed to his body. I pulled out a stack of one hundred dollar bills and placed them by the empty seat to his left.

  “Is this seat available?” The croupier nodded at me and exchanged my bills for chips.

  Purposely ignoring the man to my right, I placed my bet and watched the croupier deal the first set of cards to the table. From the corner of my eye, I could make out his strong jaw and flawless, ivory skin.

  I felt Maximus’ heated gaze on me while I tried to remain focused on the table. The first two players were dealt a five and an eight, and just as I watched the croupier placing a king in front of Maximus, he cleared his throat and spoke to me.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  I turned to meet his cerulean gaze and smiled. “It’s my first time actually.” Maximus was wearing a pinstripe grey suit that easily cost thousands of dollars, and I could hear Papa’s voice in my mind droning on about the importance of not being materialistic.

  Papa made a lot of money being an assassin, but he also had strong opinions when it came to spending needlessly. I squeezed my eyes shut and stopped my lips from trembling at the thought of him.

  I reopened my eyes to see Maximus’ lips widened in a broad smile. “Well, I am honored to be present for your first time. This is definitely a cause for celebration.” He gestured to a waiter and requested champagne. I groaned inwardly at his joke, but could not help the slight blush that crept along my cheeks at his remark.

  “That really isn’t necessary,” I mumbled before remembering that I wanted him to be comfortable with me. “But that sounds lovely.”

  Clearly this guy was a charmer, so it seemed like flirting would be the way to go. Which really was better since fighting him in the middle of a casino was never a good plan to begin with. Looking down, I saw a Queen of Hearts sitting in front of me.

  “So, are you new to the city?” He put an arm around the back of my chair, his fingers grazing my shoulder, sending an unwelcome flurry of butterflies through the pit of my stomach.

  “I’m only in town for a few days and I heard this is the place to go for a good time,” I said and obviously checked out his lips in case he didn’t understand my innuendo.

  “Oh, I can show you a really good time,” he said, his voice smooth like rich chocolate as he handed me a glass of champagne. I choked down a few gulps to moisten my dry mouth, glancing at the other people around the table who were studiously ignoring us, and noticed that my second card was a seven. Not perfect.

  “Hit me,” I said to the croupier as he made his way down the table with the optional third round of cards. I took another sip of the crisp champagne and then placed it aside as I could already feel it warming my face.

  The croupier picked up a card, flipped it over, and placed it in front of me to reveal a four. Blackjack! He collected the winnings and deposited them in front of me.

  “Congratulations, you won,” Maximus said without a hint of disappointment in his voice and leaned closer, his thigh brushing against my own. I guess he had enough money to throw around that a few thousand dollars meant nothing to him. I discreetly checked on the iron stake holstered to my thigh and tried to think of a way to get him alone.

  I met his gaze again and with new alcohol-induced confidence said, “I hope I won more than money tonight.” I could see the lust in his eyes and knew I had him in the palm of my hand.

  He edged closer, his breath hot against my neck and whispered in my ear, “Are we going to play this game all night Lenna, or do you want to go someplace private to talk?”

  What the heck? He knew who I was?

  Nobody knew that I even existed, let alone my appearance or name.

  This was bad. This was very, very bad.

  My heart hammered in my chest with such ferocity that it felt as if it might burst through my ribs at any moment. My knuckles gripped the side of my chair tightly as I fought the urge to stake him right there.

  “I see that I have rendered you speechless,” he smirked and got up from the table. He placed his hand in front of me, palm up, and waited.

  Did he want me to take his hand?

  I looked at him in bewilderment and squirmed in my seat.

  He laughed at my obvious discomfort and reached for my hand.

  “Don’t worry, Solnyshka, you are safe here.” He pulled me up. Still holding my hand, he led me through the crowd to an exit at the back, my body rigid.

  “If you think you are going to feed off me, you are sorely mistaken,” I said as I pulled my hand back from him.

  He stopped and brought his face into my hair, nuzzled my neck and whispered, “There are too many ears listening, Solnyshka, we need to go somewhere private. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Going someplace private with him would work out to my advantage, I had my stake and could kill him if necessary. I would do whatever it took to find Papa, including taking out the man in front of me. I nodded, following him out the door into a dark hallway.

  He strolled to an elevator and tapped in a code to enter. Once inside, he clicked the button to descend a few floors and I opened my mou
th to ask him what was going on. He shook his head at me, clearly not wanting me to speak yet. I inclined my head to show that I understood and waited for the doors to open.

  He took my hand again and brought me down an empty passageway to another door that required retinal scanners and handprints. He brought his cerulean eyes to the scanner and it clicked with approval, permitting us entrance.

  “As entertaining as that was,” he said as he pulled me deeper into the office, “what took you so long?” He missed my bewildered expression as he shut the door behind me. “I’ve been waiting for two weeks, Solnyshka.”

  My breathing turned rapid.

  “How do you know who I am and why would you be waiting for me for two weeks?” I asked, pulling my hand out of his grasp, my eyes narrowed.

  “Lenna, I’ve known you since you were born,” he said calmly.

  I let out a sharp gasp.

  How did he find out about me? Is he the one who took Papa?

  “Th... That’s not possible. My father would never tell anyone about me. What did you do to him!?”

  I pulled a stake from the holster on my thigh and leapt toward him.

  He had clearly anticipated my reaction and was ready for me. He easily side-stepped my lunge, grabbed my outstretched hand, and twisted my body so my back was against his chest. I could feel his heated breath against my neck as I struggled to escape from his hold.

  “Lenna, calm down. Your father and I are not enemies. He came to me two weeks ago saying that he was likely going to be captured by the Guild for information he discovered about them and to wait for you. He does not want you to come after him. He specifically asked me to protect you, so I have had safe houses, cash, food, and disguises ready for the past two weeks, but you didn’t show up until now. What happened?”

  The two-week wait was set up by Papa when he realized that people might be watching his movements. He always told me not to trust anyone with my identity and people would start to notice if he continuously met up with a girl immediately after each assassination.

 

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