Blood Witch (Paranormal Hunter Academy Book 1)

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Blood Witch (Paranormal Hunter Academy Book 1) Page 1

by Rae Hendricks




  Blood Witch

  Paranormal Hunter Academy Book 1

  Rae Hendricks

  Copyright

  © 2019 by Raven Heidrich

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any from or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Acknowledgements

  To my husband, my daughter, Liz Knox, and Rae B. Lake for getting me through the crazy writing process on this one. To Rebecca and heather at Zero Alchemy for giving me the courage to take the plunge with this book that I have just fallen in love with and doing it the right way.

  Other Books by Rae Hendricks

  Prophecy of the Stars Series

  DESTINED

  LOYAL

  TRANSFROMED

  Paranormal Hunter Academy Series

  BLOOD WITCH

  AURORA WITCH

  DEMON WITCH

  Mirrored Prophecy Triunity

  DAVINA’S QUEST

  DAVINA’S ASCENT

  DAVINA’S PREVAIL

  Blackwell Academy Series

  ALMOST DEAD

  UNDEAD

  KING OF THE DEAD

  Witches of Moon Gate Trilogy

  PRIME

  CREATOR

  HEDGE

  Academy of Dark & Light Series

  LEGENDARY TRIAD

  LEGENDARY DARKNESS

  LEGENDARY WAR

  Keep up with all of Rae’s latest releases via her website!

  http://bit.ly/rae-hendricks-author

  Coming Soon by Rae Hendricks

  ACADEMY OF OLYMPIANS SERIES

  SOUL ACADEMY SERIES

  BOUND BY THE COVEN SERIES

  Table of Contents

  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

  Don’t Miss the Next Paranormal Hunter Academy on Pre-order Now!…

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  "Not even Vivi is going to that party, Riley. I know it's your 18th birthday and you want it to be special. But trust me when I say, you are not prepared to handle yourself among other paranormals like that. Not there."

  The words of my uncle ring in my head even as I am awestruck at the scene in front of me. There are bodies further than my eyes can see, even though my sight is even better than a typical human's. Some are dancing and others are using magic out in the open; something I have never seen before but only read about.

  These parties pop up every once in a while to celebrate major points in our history and celestial events. Many times, the Indian reservations will allow us in so that we have the freedom we don't get while living among the unbelieving white men, as they put it. Being that I am 18 as of two hours and approximately eleven minutes ago, I can now step foot into one of these parties. I felt like it had to be fate that it was happening on my actual birthday. My uncle and cousin had been warning me away from it for weeks, but I didn't care. Hell or high water, I was going.

  And here I am.

  I hitched a ride with one of my distant cousins, third twice removed or something. I don't have a lot of friends in the witch community, but most of us are related in some way, whether distant or close. "You better wipe those stars from your eyes before somebody does it for you," Joanna, the cousin I mentioned, tells me, bumping me on the elbow.

  I roll my eyes as I see her smirk. She has been making fun of me ever since I got a hold of her and asked her to help me sneak out. She thinks my uncle and cousin are boring busybodies that are overprotective for no reason. After all, I do come from a powerful bloodline. I should be just fine. Even if I am a little sheltered from it all.

  Maybe if I wasn't, I wouldn't have wanted to defy my beloved uncle so badly.

  "I'll meet you at the car at dawn. Don't get lost," she says before disappearing into the crowd. I didn't expect her to hang with me, anyway. I just needed her to get me here.

  I start to walk through the crowd, the sights and sounds consuming me. First, I passed a group of witches and Native Americans sitting around a witch fire, the scent of peyote strong on the air. It has been said that such drugs unlock a part of the brain that helps us do more powerful spells, but I never bought into that. It's just a mind over matter thing, and many are too afraid of their own capabilities. I actually read that in one of my father’s journals I have found.

  Being the great hunter he was, many have wanted their hands on them, and my uncle has obliged a few times for the sake of keeping his legacy alive. Even though he is my mother's brother, he and my father were close. Though, it shouldn't come as a shock considering I have heard my whole life how much everyone adored my father – Samuel Graywood.

  A burst of dancing flames rising into the air in the shape of a dragon, pulls my attention away from the group that is smoking, and I stand my distance away and watch silently. I follow my eyes down to the source and see a fire breather is making the strange and amazing shapes in the sky; something I never thought I would see. Those like him are made by cross breeding a fire type familiar and a witch, which is forbidden in my world. Rules on reservations, though, are lax. They have their own ways and beliefs, and the Magistrate, our ruling class, does not care what they do on their land as long as it does not upset any of their work or our safety.

  For me, the rules are many.

  An incessant high-pitched meow hits my ears, and I suddenly remember my tag along. It was the way I have proved my age to get into this party; my familiar.

  Well, sort of my familiar. I may have borrowed him from Viviana without asking, but technically the day I turn 18 I have the right to the family familiar.

  He is now scratching at the inside of the bag I have him slipped into for safe keeping, so I roll my eyes and step away from the crowd, weaving in and out until I get to the edge of the tree line. A mix of evergreens and other trees long choked into a brown from the summer’s yearly drought, stand at my back as I yank the unhappy cat from my bag and turn him in my grasp so I can look into his eyes.

  “Now, Jinx, we talked about this. You have to stay with me so I don’t lose you. If you go running off, you won't make it back to Vivi,” I warn him. Other than his wise-looking, golden eyes that often squint at me with disdain, I find it hard to believe Jinx is anything other than a grumpy, old, house cat. He has long tan and white wisps poking out of him everywhere, and he is small enough to carry in medium-sized purses. I have never seen him take another from even though familiars are supposed to be able to, at the very least, look like a human. It makes it hard to buy in
to the whole thing, but familiars are supposed to be important for a witch’s growing power; the only reason the Magistrate did not ban them completely after witches created them without permission long ago.

  “Fine, fine, but only for a moment!” I hiss at Jinx as he wriggles in my arms, yowling incessantly, especially for a cat of his size. He practically leaps from my arms onto the ground, running towards the trees. “Jinx!” I call out, turning to run after him.

  “He’ll be fine, you know.” The voice has me practically jumping out of my skin, losing sight of Jinx. I turn around, ready to give whoever embodied the voice a what for, and I wrap my arms around me in an instinctive protective stance. In the darkness, all I can make out is a shadow of a face underneath a dark sapphire cloak that can only be told from black as the moonlight shines on certain parts of it. I don’t know why I don’t move around … him? I assume from the stature it is a male and the slope of what I can see of his jaw.

  He speaks again in my silence. “You must be new to the whole familiar thing. He will come back to you at some point in the night, and at the very least when you call and are ready to leave. Familiars are very well trained even when their witches are not.”

  I hear a slight chuckle in his voice and feel insulted. Not that I should considering despite that fact that I am a Graywood, my training has been minimal in comparison with my potential. Those with family familiars are allowed to train at home starting at 16, but there was no such luck for me. I think it is because my uncle is afraid, but I don’t think I will ever get him to admit it.

  “He is not used to me. I was worried he would run off. I borrowed him from my cousin.” My eyes dart up and down the cloaked man as if I am going to glean anymore about him from doing so, but then I veer to the right and try to move around him. Though, he catches me by the wrist. The slap of his skin on mine echoes into the night, and I feel a surge of something – a fuzziness like mild electricity coursing into my body and leaving its mark. I am assuming it's the mark of his magic, and it is so strong, my heart races with fear at his possible intentions. Maybe my uncle had been right about coming here. If this man wants to do something to me, there would be no stopping him. He is much too powerful.

  “I didn't mean to offend you,” he says, and I catch a glimpse of his eyes for a moment sparkling in the darkness. They are hypnotic, and I wonder if it is some kind of magic trick. I can't get a reading on what he is, so he may not be a witch, even though the skin on his hand tells me his is also no Native American. “Sometimes helpfulness can come off as pride. Let me make it up to you.” He lets go of me finally, and I pull my wrist away but don’t make a move to trek back towards the large crowds in the field.

  “How do you propose you will do that?” I raise an eyebrow at him, suddenly feeling brave. He has not tried to harm me, only slightly insulted me. And I am 18 now, and a witch at a true paranormal party. I should start acting like I belong here rather than like a lost little girl who doesn’t venture further than her front porch. Even if much of that may have been true in the past. I had come here for fun and adventure, hadn't I?

  “I am thinking some wine and a dance or two.” He nods in the direction of a large crowd to the south acting as if they are in a crowded nightclub rather than a wide open reservation land.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I do not see how this makes up for your rudeness, but because I came here to celebrate, I will take your offer anyway.” I cross my arms over my chest and lead the way to the makeshift dance floor, the thrum of music played live by enchanted instruments working its way into my blood. I do not know if the music has been spelled to make others wish to dance to it for many hours at a time, or if it is only the high of being here, but my hips instantly begin to sway to the strange beat.

  The stranger has pulled his hood more protectively around him as we come under the light of a large bonfire, so I cannot be sure, but I think he is watching me as I blend into the crowd, my hands above my head as I sway more to the music.

  “I will be back with your drink,” he finally tells me in a husker tone than before, and I am shocked I am having this effect on someone.

  Get a grip, Riley, he is not interested in you. You’re seeing things that aren't there. You always have.

  Cloak guy comes back with two drinks in hand, both smelling sweet. When a witch brews wine it is always sweet like a fine nectar extracted from the most exotic plant. It is a spell anyone can do but few can do right. I have spit out many since turning 16 and haven't stomached one.

  But as I let this one slide down my throat, it’s like hot butter.

  I drink the glass too fast and grab my head, the cloaked man having to steady me with his strong grip. He doesn’t let go until I am fully back on my feet and feeling a warmth pass over me. “Not so fast, witch, you don’t have a tolerance yet, and this stuff is no joke.”

  He takes the glass from my hand and tosses it into the field beyond. “Hasn't anyone ever told you not to litter?” I ask him, but it comes out in more of a groan than the joke I meant it to sound like. I can't believe I am such a lightweight. Witches are supposed to have a much higher tolerance to the stuff. I seem to fail at everything I am supposed to be good at – one of the many reasons I am not a student at Paranormal Hunter Academy like my parents were. But that’s okay because my uncle didn’t go either, and he is a record keeper for the Magistrate – a respected member of society.

  “You know this place is full of witches, right? They clean it up after,” he tells me with a shrug, and I can’t help but feel yet again I am being made fun of.

  “It’s also full of people dancing,” I challenge him, “and people whose faces I can see.”

  He lets out a dark laugh this time and takes my hand. “Well, I can make you happy on one of those.” He leads me further into the crowd of dancing bodies, and I feel a little out of control. I have never dared to flirt with a boy I didn’t know before, and certainly not one wearing a cloak so I couldn't even see them. I danced with a human boy once in grade school, but it was sad and pitiful like you would expect from two 12 year olds. There was also a boy at a cousin's wedding that kissed me and ran off when I was seven, but that doesn’t really count. Though, no one I know suspects my innocence.

  I am good at blending into the crowd. I don’t stick out, but I don’t act like everyone else either per se. I do my own thing in a sea of people.

  Vivi has always teased me for looking like a stereotypical witch; black eyeliner and dark lipstick, fishnets and chains on my clothes. Lace and mesh are my favorite materials. But I have mingled with humans in society rather than witches and found that this is a part of me. Even if it makes people think I am someone else. That I have done and experienced things. Sometimes, that assumption keeps me safe, and other times it gets me into trouble.

  Maybe it is time for a little bit of trouble in my life.

  I am 18, I am a witch, and I am bored.

  This life is supposed to be anything but boring.

  I smile slyly at him – or what I assume is sly. Never done this before, and I take his hands as we get into a rhythm of our own. I will admit that the drink has gone straight to my head. But I let it go and feel his warmth. I don’t know how I can be so instantly enchanted by a man whose face I cannot see, but the way he moves and the way he laughs has me seeing sparks. Or maybe it’s the drink. I don’t know. I am probably just a silly, naïve girl, but I can be that for one night and apologize tomorrow.

  The bonfire catches his face as I turn around, his hands on my hips all of a sudden, and I can make out his face. His hair must be tied back or shaved close because all I can see is the shape of his pale face and those eyes I had caught a glimpse of before, but just as I look into them, I am wracked with a feeling of pain.

  I double over right there, feeling eyes on me as I groan.

  “Oh, Riley, I didn’t think it would work this fast.”

  “Riley? How do you know my name?” I am wracked with another pain, the speech taken right out of m
e. Instead of getting an answer, he takes my arm and leads me away from the crowd, back to where I lost Jinx and found him. I have no idea what is happening, but I have a bad feeling now that my uncle is going to be hanging his head over my grave and saying ‘I told you so.’

  “Look, I am really sorry for what I am about to do.” I look up at the boy whose name I never got, and the world is blurry. What was in that drink?

  The searing pain goes from my abdomen to my head and then collects against my shoulder. My vision is shaky, and I can’t choke out any questions, not even call Jinx to me for help. I am going to die here alone and not even know the name of my killer, even though he knows me.

  Chapter 2

  I wake up to a familiar meowing and realize that I am not dead. Not entirely, anyway.

  The light is breaking over the trees, and Jinx has returned but is hissing and meowing at me in that sireny way cats do when they don’t like someone. Jinx has never been my best friend or anything, but he has never reacted like this.

  At first, I worry about the guy who put me in this state, flat on my stomach and drooling into the grass. He might still be around and that's what Jinx is mad about. But when I flip over in fear, gasping, there is no one there.

  My head is spinning as I remember the events of the night before; the sweet taste of the drink, the man in the cloak, the dancing, me in pain and him knowing my name…

  As the unrelenting desert sun creeps up closer to its morning peak, there is only one thought I have. I have heard about it happening, but I never thought it would be me. What reason would someone have?

  How could I be so stupid?

  Hissing and clawing aside, I grab Jinx and run into the safety of the woods, knowing I need to hide for more than one reason, if what I am thinking is the truth. Jinx, please,” I beg him, tears in my eyes as I collapse in front of a tree in the darkest part of the forest I can find, it not being lost on me how fast I must have gone to get from the edge to here in mere moments. “It’s me. It’s Riley. I know I must smell funny, but I need you to stay with me. I am scared.” My tears must mean something to him because he curls up into my lap as I wipe at my tears, my hands trembling as I see red covering them.

 

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