Young Blood (A Witch Hunter Saga Novella)

by Nicole R. Taylor

  “Whoa,” the guy said, holding her steady. “Careful there.”

  Looking up, her gaze met the most swoon worthy set of green eyes she'd ever seen in her entire life.

  “Are you okay?” the guy asked, a frown creasing his forehead. He looked about her age, a head taller.

  “Um, yeah,” she muttered, looking away, realizing she'd been staring at him like some kind of idiot. He was hot. Like, there were hot guys and then there were hot guys. He was in the latter category. Amazing eyes, short brown hair, chiseled jawline, hard chest… Definitely hot.

  Why the hell did she have to be all sweating and gross in her running gear right now? It was like the universe had conspired against her. The guy was still looking at her, a grin pulling at his lips. Shit, she was staring again.

  “Are you sure you're okay?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Yeah. I'm fine,” she retorted, beginning to get irritated. “You just surprised me.”

  “Sorry 'bout that.” He shuffled from foot to foot before saying, “I'm Sam.”

  “Liz.”

  “I just moved here with my brother. Nice place.”

  “Why would you want to move here?” She was trying her best to get out.

  Sam laughed at her reaction and ran a hand through his hair. “It's as good a place as any. Helps we own a house here.”

  He had money and was hot. Nice combination. “You own a house?”

  “Yeah,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world - a guy that didn't look a day older than twenty owning a house. “The plantation manor over by the lake.”

  “The Degaud manor?” Her mouth almost dropped open. Nobody had lived there since the Civil War - since the alleged massacre.

  “Yeah. I know what you locals think of the place, that's it's haunted. But I haven't seen a ghost yet.” He gave her a wink that almost melted her insides.

  “But nobody's been in there since…”

  “The Civil War.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it's our families ancestral home, so you know.”

  “You're a Degaud?” she asked, letting her surprise show.

  Sam nodded slowly, cocking his head to the side.

  “It's just,” Liz began, “there hasn't been any Degaud's around here since the place was abandoned.”

  “Well, some are still alive and kicking,” he said with a laugh. “Where are you going to? Liz…”

  “Evans.” She gestured to her clothes and pointed down the street. “I'm going home to change. Then I'm going to work.”

  He looked her over, letting his gaze drag slowly over her body and despite herself, she shivered. “Well, I won't keep you. It was nice meeting you, Liz. I'm sure we'll run into each other at some stage.”

  As he stepped around her and continued down the sidewalk, she called out after him, “Nice meeting you, too.”

  When he glanced back and caught her checking out the rear view, she turned away, her face beginning to flush. It had been a crazy week. First Gabby and her amazing witch abilities and now a hot guy to drool over…and he was a Degaud no less. A Degaud with a brother. Damn, she was in trouble.

  If there was one thing Zac was good at, it was sniffing out the closest bar.

  The only place that seemed to exist in a twenty-mile radius was a hole called Max's. It seemed to be part TGI Friday's mixed with a dose of rough biker bar. But it was the South after all. If it wasn't mental and off the wall, then it didn't belong.

  Setting himself up at one end of the bar, he settled in for the long haul. A glass of scotch wasn't anywhere near adequate, so he bought the bottle and kept topping up when it got low. Never mind that it was only four pm and not even dinnertime. Zac drank enough booze to send any normal human to hospital ten times over, but it never seemed to be enough. Control was something that was constantly out of his grasp...and he wasn't talking about the drinking. The thing about being a vampire who was turned against his will was that he was never taught or never learned when to start or stop.

  He died in the Civil War like some kind of cliché, was turned when he was as good as dead and taught to hunt and kill the people he used to share DNA with. And then there was Sam. It was his fault that his little brother was turned and did he pay for it every fucking day. It took every ounce of his will power not to chow down on the population of Ashburton, the town they once called home. The town that they wanted to call home again.

  Scratch that. The town Sam wanted to become human in again and as usual, he was along for the ride. Did he want the same thing? He wasn't human anymore. Hadn't been for a very long time.

  Zac Degaud was the definition of the word monster.

  He caught movement out the corner of his eye as someone came up to the bar near where he'd set up residence. He straightened up when he got a whiff of something tasty. Something female and tasty.

  “What'll it be, Liz?” the bartender asked.

  “Gimme a plate of fries and a jug of beer.”

  “Comin' right up.”

  Zac eyed the girl out the corner of his eye as she waited for her order, and as expected, she glanced his way, giving him the once over. She wore those little denim shorty shorts that women were so fond of this decade and a cream blouse. When her gaze met his, he found himself staring. There were blue eyes, then there were hers.

  “Hey, I'm sorry to stare,” she began, turning to face him, “but you kinda look familiar.”

  “I don't think so,” he said with a smirk, swiveling the stool around to face her. Familiar or hot? ”I just moved here with my brother.”

  “Brother?”

  “Sam, the high and mighty. Maybe you've seen his big head.”

  “Oh, Sam? Yes, I've met him then,” she exclaimed. “This morning.”

  Zac was tall and lean with a head of messy brown hair. Sam was a lot more heavy set than he was, his hair lighter, but they shared the same green eyes and bone structure. Simple way of putting it, they looked like brothers.

  “Really?” he asked. It wasn't like Sam to smell out a pretty girl day two, but then again...

  “I didn't know there were any Degaud's left. I mean, any that were related to the founding family.”

  “Well, there's two of us.” He took another mouthful of scotch to soothe the burning that was rising in his throat.

  “I'm Liz,” she declared, holding her hand out.

  Zac let his gaze drop and wondered if he should touch her. That would be dangerous, considering he was already wondering what her blood tasted like. It was getting to the point of awkward, so he held his breath and took her hand.

  “Zac Degaud. Older brother. Bad boy.”

  “Oh, so you're one of those.” She laughed as he held her hand for a moment too long.

  “This is your first warning,” he said, his lips curving into a lopsided grin.

  Pulling her hand away, Liz laughed, shaking her head, but he knew different. Her heart had sped up slightly and his already massive ego inflated to bursting point.

  The bartender came back at that moment, interrupting their interlude and put her order on the bar in front of them.

  “Well, I'll see you later.” She slid off the stool, taking her plate of fries and jug of beer and walking across the room just so. Damn.

  “Well, I can see you're working fast as per usual.”

  Zac looked up and found Sam sliding into the stool on his other side and shrugged. “A bar and a pretty girl. You know what I'm like.”

  Sam glared at him. “She-”

  “Smells nice?” Zac asked with a grin.

  “Get lost.”

  “Helps she's pretty, too.”

  “Don't you dare touch her Zac, or I'll-

  Turning in his seat, Zac narrowed his eyes in warning. “Or you'll what?”

  Sam let out a sharp sigh. “Just don't cause any trouble. I want to settle here for a while. Don't ruin it before its even begun.”

  “Let me guess.” Zac tapped his temple, pretending to think. “You s
aw her first, so this is your way of saying hands off? You know you can just say hands off, right?”

  “I'm getting some contractors out at the manor tomorrow, so keep clear, okay?”

  “Subtle change of topic, Samuel.”

  Sam's jaw tensed, but he didn't rise to the bait. “It's the difference between no hot water and electricity, so just play along.”

  Zac shrugged and turned back to his scotch.

  “I'm going home...and Zac?”

  When he didn't reply, his little brother shoved his shoulder. “What?”

  “No eating the locals.”

  Before he could retort, Sam was striding across the bar, giving a little wave to Liz as he went. Since when had his little brother become his parent? Shit.

  That's when he realized Liz wasn't alone. Probably served him right, fixating on the first pretty girl to cross his path. He watched that newbie witch, Gabby, talking with her and rolled his eyes. Tabitha was friends with the girl? Figured.

  When the witch turned and caught his eye, she scowled. Giving her a little wave, she rolled her eyes and turned back to Liz. Zac cast his hearing out, already knowing exactly what they were talking about and groaned.

  “I'll be right back,” Gabby was saying and a moment later, he felt her approaching. This place was suddenly extremely aggravating.

  “Stay away from her,” Gabby hissed in his ear.

  Zac took another mouthful of his scotch before raising an eyebrow at her. “Or you'll make my head explode?”

  “I'll do more than that.”

  “I can smell a bluff a mile off, Tabitha, so save yourself the hassle and go back to the minor leagues. Something tells me you can't cut it in the majors.”

  “Eat shit.”

  “Eat shit? Eat shit?” He laughed, slapping his had on top of the bar. “Kids these days.”

  “You keep your filthy fangs to yourself, Zac Degaud, or I'll rip them out myself.”

  Downing the rest of his drink, he got up from his stool and leaned in close to the witch's ear and whispered, “Try me, Glinda.”

  He felt the telltale hum in the air that signaled the newbie witch was about to get all voodoo on his ass.

  Eyeing her he said, “Gabrielle Marie Cohen. Twenty years old. Works as a clerk over at the real estate agency across the square. Lives at the top of that eyesore of an apartment block on Sycamore. Crazy absentee grandmother, who I'm guessing was a witch and had her secret exposed. Parents Judith and Thomas. Mommy is a teacher at Ashburton Primary. Daddy dearest is a lawyer at Everton and Cootes Legal in Baton Rouge. They live over on Everton Street, right?”

  “Asshole.”

  “Meh,” he said with a shrug. “It's called insurance, sweetheart. You make my head pop, I make someone else's pop right off.”

  “Leave Liz alone.”

  “Look at you getting all territorial and foamy at the mouth.”

  “Fuck you, Zac.”

  “No thanks, brunettes aren't my type.”

  “She doesn't know what you are and it's staying that way. You don't touch her, you don't even look at her, understand?”

  “I don't think you understand what a threat entails, little witch.”

  “I'm calling your bluff.” Gabby crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I love a dare,” he snarled. “Push too far, Gabby and I'll push back ten times as hard. You really want to play this game?”

  “The next time you go near Liz, we'll see who's really bluffing then, won't we?”

  Zac's lips curved into a wicked grin as his blood began to quicken. He loved living life on the edge. A newbie witch versus a one hundred and seventy year old vampire with a blonde beauty as the prize.

  “Bring it on, Tabitha. Bring. It. On.”

  Chapter 3

  Three weeks in Ashburton and Zac still felt as pathetic as he always did. It was a hole of a town filled with nothing and nobody. Except maybe a certain blonde human who was particularly nice to look at. Three weeks wasn't very long in the grand scheme of his afterlife, but as always impatience ruled.

  He'd lost count of how many times he'd got into fisticuffs with some guy whose girlfriend had wandering eyes, or rednecks who thought it was their duty to beat him up because he was new in town. It was always the same wherever he went. Trouble followed and he was happy to show it his fists. No prizes for guessing who came out the other side victorious. Their blood always tasted like crap.

  “Hey.”

  Zac looked up from his regular spot at the bar and grinned when he saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at him. “Hey.”

  “You certainly are the booze hound, aren't you?” Liz asked, nudging his bottle of Jack Daniels with a finger.

  “Where some people like a fine wine, I prefer the hard stuff.” He gave her a wink and ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

  “What's your game?” she asked, sliding onto the stool next to him.

  “My game? I have no game.”

  “Are you the same Zac Degaud that’s beat up every tough guy in town?”

  He rose his eyebrows and flashed her a wicked grin. “I told you day one, beautiful. Bad boy.”

  “So, is this my second warning?”

  “Are we only at two? I'm slipping.”

  When Liz laughed, her whole face lit up. “I think we can skip the warnings, I get it.”

  He felt his cold, dead skin begin to warm. “Do you want a drink? I'm buying.”

  “I'm going to have to say no,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I'm meeting Gabby.”

  “Ahh,” he said. “Blown off for a girl.” Otherwise known as Glinda the good witch. Or more aptly described as the annoying as hell witch who still didn't have the guts to call her bluff.

  “Yeah, sorry.” Waving across the room, she threw a smile back at him. “See you later.”

  When Liz turned away, he made a kissy face at Gabby, who'd just walked into the bar and was throwing daggers with her eyes. Tapping his temple, she turned away and greeted her friend like nothing was wrong. Witches.

  Not wanting to suffer Gabby's presence, he downed the rest of his bottle of Jack and strode across the bar and out into the darkness. The street was lit in an orange glow from the street lamps, the gardens across the road bathed in a thick layer of black. Truth was, this whole place stunk of a life he'd never get back. It wasn't boredom, it wasn't like he couldn't find anything interesting to do…he just didn't like the reminders that were every-fucking-where. He was a failure who got his entire family killed and he was the reason his brother was a blood sucking parasite. Good fucking job, Zac Degaud. You should have stayed dead that time you got shot in the gut. You should have asphyxiated on your own blood and embraced the darkness and never woke up.

  Grimacing, he turned to start the long walk back to the manor, the scene of the crime. Rounding the corner he came face to face with last night's conquest. Three big beefy rednecks otherwise known as stupid one, stupid two and stupid three, who just didn't get when to walk away.

  “Oh, hey,” he drawled, coming to a stop in front of them. “Didn't you get the message when I beat your asses into the pavement the first time?”

  “You only get to beat my ass once, Degaud,” snarled the biggest, plaid clad idiot. “Once and never again.”

  “Oh, I'm going to have fun with this.” Zac laughed as the human stepped forward, his friends egging him on.

  The redneck took a swing, and for good measure, Zac let his fist connect with his nose. The humans let out a holler as blood began to drip over his lips and onto his brand new black shirt. Damn. If there was one thing he hated, it was doing laundry. Bloodstains were the worst.

  Feeling his teeth begin to ache at the taste of his own blood, Zac said, “I was going to be nice and let you get in a few before I snapped you in two little boy, but you just ruined my new shirt.”

  Moving faster than the human men could follow, Zac's fist connected with a temple, dropping one before turning to the second, grinding his face into the paveme
nt before turning back to the guy who'd given him his bloody nose.

  “Shit,” the guy hissed, realizing he was on his own.

  “Shit, indeed.” Zac grabbed the guy's shoulder and rammed a fist into his stomach, before shoving him up against the wall, cracking his head against the brickwork. It must have split his skin, because the sickly scent of blood began to fill his nose.

  Letting him go, Zac stepped back a few steps and gestured the guy forward, bouncing from foot to foot. “C'mon,” he said. “Give it your best shot.”

  The human took a swing with an impressive roar, but Zac grabbed his wrist, shoving him against the opposite wall, drawing more blood.

  “Is that all you've got? You're piss weak. Go again.”

  “Asshole,” the human grimaced, rubbing his nose and smearing blood across his face.

  “Why, yes, I believe I am.”

  He lunged again, but it wouldn't do him any good. Zac could see every possible move coming a mile off. He'd seen it all in his one hundred and seventy years and even without his speed and strength, he'd get out of this fight the same way. Stupidity bred stupidity and dumb as fuck brawn who didn't know their left from right.

  Sick of fighting already, Zac downed the guy with a single blow to the side of the head. The human fell heavily onto the pavement, groaning in agony, clutching his head. The stench of blood filled up his senses and grabbing the front of the human's shirt, he lifted him from the ground, letting his eyes begin to change into complete darkness. Scary vampire, check.

  “Zac.”

  Rolling his eyes at the sudden appearance of his little brother, Zac let the guy go, doing nothing to cushion his fall back to the asphalt.

  “Again?” Sam exclaimed, surveying the ass whooping he'd just delivered to the latest group of heroes that dared cross his path.

  “I didn't start this one, just so you know. I was defending my honor.” He smirked, holding up his hands. “They taste like shit, so wipe that look off your face, little brother. I wouldn't eat that even if you paid me.”