Wild Thing: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Blueblood Vampires Book 2)

by Michelle Hercules

  “If you leave now, you will never be allowed back into this house. You will never see your sisters again.”

  My heart twists savagely in my chest. I don’t care about not coming back here, but forbidding me to see Miranda and Niko is a low blow. I look over my shoulder, not hiding an ounce of my loathing for her. “That, Isadora Leal, is a power you don’t have.”

  36

  Saxon

  I try my best not to show how fucking worried I am about Aurora as we approach Ember Emporium. I’m not sure why my chest feels so tight, almost as if I’m getting a premonition. She’s going to see her mother, not the witch from hell. Unless she lied. I immediately reject the idea. I’d have known if she wasn’t telling the truth. Now that the bond is finally solidified, I’m so in tune with her that I can almost hear her thoughts.

  With a closed fist, I massage my chest, trying to get rid of the phantom pain. Cheryl, who ended up riding sandwiched between me and her brother in the backseat, turns to stare at me with her eyebrows pinched.

  “What are you doing?”

  I drop my hand to my lap. “Nothing.”

  “You’re acting strange. I can sense it.”

  Grumbling, I look out the window. “Sure. Now everyone can sense everything about me. Did I suddenly become a broadcasting tower?”

  “Don’t be so grumpy about it. You’ve just completed a mating ritual. Of course you’re going to give off strong vibes when it comes to Aurora.”

  “All right, everyone. We’re here. Stay sharp,” Ronan announces from the driver’s seat.

  He parks on the side street next to Ember Emporium since we don’t know what the hell we’re going to find inside Larsson’s business. When I turn the corner onto the main street, I notice the absence of at least half the motorcycles that are usually parked in front of the dragon’s establishment. At this hour, the place should have been packed. Inside, we find it half empty as well. Cheryl walks ahead of us, veering straight for the bar where Jagger, Larsson’s younger brother, is polishing a beer glass.

  Immediately, I feel Ronan tense next to me, and a low growl comes from deep in his throat. “Easy there, buddy. Do not get territorial now.”

  He whips his face to mine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  His eyes are flashing red and his fangs are fully exposed, but his eyebrows are furrowed as if he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. I seek Lucca’s gaze, who seems as surprised as I am about Ronan’s lack of self-awareness.

  “You look like you want to rip someone’s head off,” Lucca replies.

  Ronan blinks rapidly, and after a moment, his eyes return to their natural blue color, just in time before Larsson walks into the main area, sporting a frown that means we can expect a serious shitstorm to come our way. Lucca leads our party to an empty table right in the middle of the room, the one Larsson was aiming for. If the decor of this bar were a little more rustic, I would feel transported to an old Western movie. The house might not be full, but the heavy staring could drown an elephant.

  “Why did you call this meeting, Larsson?” Lucca asks.

  The dragon kingpin—always dressed to the nines—unbuttons his suit jacket and takes a seat. He points at the opposite chair without breaking eye contact and waits until we’re all seated to answer Lucca’s question.

  “As you have noticed, half my associates are gone. And do you want to know why?”

  “They didn’t like your management style?” I answer.

  He squints while a deep rumble comes from deep in his chest. Cheryl hits me on the shoulder, then spears me with a meaningful glance. Riight, I shouldn’t antagonize the king of dragons when I’m not even recovered from the blow I received from one.

  “Earlier today, a newcomer came onto my premises,” Larsson continues. “A wolf shifter by the name of Coyote, who got half my people riled up again about Gus’s death. I wasn’t here or I would have put a stop to it as soon as he opened his piehole.” Larsson glances at Jagger, who takes the scathing, accusatory glance like a champ. He doesn’t even flinch.

  “Fuck,” Karl mutters under his breath while Cheryl glares at Jagger.

  “You couldn’t have told me that detail over the phone?” she grits out.

  There’s a visible wince on his part and my jaw drops. Larsson can’t get the guy to show emotion but Cheryl can? They’re definitely more than acquaintances. I chance a glimpse at Ronan, just to make sure he’s not about to pounce on the dragon shifter. Aside from the tight clench of his jaw, he seems okay for now.

  “Do you know this shifter?” Lucca asks Karl.

  “Yes, he’s the alpha who has challenged Marcus. Why didn’t you kill him on sight?” Karl asks Jagger.

  “Kill him on what grounds? He came in as a patron. We don’t discriminate and I didn’t know who he was at first.”

  “Plus, we don’t interfere with problems that don’t concern us,” Larsson adds.

  “Really? I think you do like to meddle outside of your territory. Isn’t that my mother’s necklace you’re wearing now?” Lucca is glowering at the dragon so hard I’m afraid laser beams are going to shoot out from his eyes. I had totally forgotten that Larsson asked Vivienne to steal that necklace from Lucca.

  Returning Lucca’s death glare, Larsson leans forward. “And it’s because of this necklace that I’m going to give your insolence a pass.”

  “Could you stop with the testosterone contest for a second and focus on the problem at hand?” Cheryl interrupts. “What exactly did that snake say?”

  “He said the Accords didn’t exist anymore and that Gus was the first casualty of many more to come,” Jagger replies. “And that it was high time shifters united to purge the vampire plague from Salem.”

  Karl stands abruptly, pushing his chair back so hard it screeches against the wooden floor. “We need to find that son of a bitch right now and put an end to this madness.”

  “You can’t do anything against Coyote. You’re not part of the pack anymore. If you kill him before Marcus has the chance, he will be disgraced,” Cheryl retorts, but the fire in her brother’s eyes doesn’t extinguish.

  “Does that rule apply to vampires killing that motherfucker?” I ask.

  She pierces me with a satisfied glint in her eyes. “No. It does not.”

  At once, several ringtones fill the room. They come from my phone, Ronan’s, and Lucca’s. My thoughts immediately go to Aurora, but the text message is not from her. It’s from Dean Davenport, the leader of the Red Guard. It says “call to arms” in capital letters and a location: downtown.

  “We have to go.” Ronan jumps from his chair, followed by Lucca and me.

  “What is it?” Cheryl asks with round eyes.

  “It’s an urgent alert from the Red Guard. Coyote and your dragons must have already put in action their pitiful revolution,” Lucca growls in Larsson’s direction.

  At once, all the shifters who were sitting in the area get out of their chairs, eyeballing our group with bad intentions. We’re completely outnumbered and outgunned. Everyone here is packing some serious heat.

  Larsson rises to his full height, which is a head taller than Lucca. “You’d better tread very carefully, boy. You don’t want me to unleash my full wrath on you. You saw the damage one shifted dragon did.” He surveys me for a second.

  In true Lucca fashion, he takes a step forward, eyes glistening red, fangs bared. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You know what? Fuck you all. I’m out of here.” Cheryl walks out the door before anyone can stop her.

  Jagger makes a motion to follow but hesitates. He and Ronan exchange a glance that tells me they’re not about to become best friends. Karl, on the other hand, does go after his sister. The wolf siblings have the right idea. We’re wasting precious time dicking around.

  “Hello? The text message said ‘CALL TO ARMS,’ not ‘take your time,’” I pipe up.

  Ronan pulls on Lucca’s sleeve. “Come on, Luc. Saxon is right for once.”

/>   I flip him off right before I veer for the door, only to find it blocked by a bald dragon holding a rifle in a menacing manner. “Seriously, dude? What part of ‘this is an urgent situation’ didn’t you understand?”

  He snarls in response as his pupils turn into slits. Fucking lizards with wings.

  “Let them through, Eddie,” Larsson orders. “We’re coming too.”

  37

  Aurora

  It’s done. I’m officially no longer Isadora Leal’s daughter or next in line to become the High Witch. I thought I’d feel more devastated, but in reality, I’m partially relieved. Not being a member of the New Salem Coven any longer is freeing. Besides, I can continue learning on my own. There are other sources of knowledge besides the Council of Witches’ library.

  The only loose end now is Elena Montenegro. I’d thought there would be bigger consequences to doing the opposite of what I vowed to, but maybe when Ryker removed the repel spell, he also removed the hold Elena had on me.

  I don’t call Saxon until I put some distance between myself and the High Witch—that’s how I’ll refer to the woman who birthed me from now on. I also wanted to calm my nerves first. At a red traffic light, I reach for my cell phone to send him a message. If he’s still meeting with Larsson, I can swing by. Call it mated female protectiveness, but I’ll feel better if I’m around. He can so easily get into trouble. I wouldn’t be so worried if he had been one hundred percent recovered, though. I’m not a helicopter girlfriend.

  Girlfriend. The word is strange even in my head. We’re more than that. We’re mated, which, according to vampire standards, is like being married. The feminist in me should rebel against the idea, but she too has fallen madly in love with the cocky vampire.

  My fingers hover over the digital keyboard, frozen. I didn’t make the conscious decision to pause like that. When my hand drops the phone on my lap, and grips the steering wheel tightly on its own, alarm bells sound in my head.

  What the fuck is going on?

  My foot presses on the gas pedal, and the car peels off without me willing it so, making an illegal U-turn. My body is moving of its own accord. That’s not right. Someone is controlling me as if I were a marionette. It’s Elena, I’m sure of it. She must be using the blood vow to do it.

  My heart races as I try in vain to force my limbs to obey my command, but nothing I do seems to work. I can’t even recite out loud any type of spell. The only things I seem to be in control of are my thoughts. Damn everything to hell! Where is she taking me?

  I’m shaking nonstop, and my pulse is spiraling out of control. My hold on the steering wheel is slippery thanks to my clammy hands. The drive takes fifteen minutes, more or less, but the nightmare is only about to start. I park my car in the exact spot I did yesterday when the bond led me to Saxon. I’m in dragon shifter territory again. But why?

  I get out of the car and head straight into the woods. My pulse is drumming so fast and loud in my ears that it’s all I can hear. The forest is eerily quiet, and in my experience, when animals don’t make a peep, it means they’re afraid of a bigger threat.

  I’m not surprised when I wind up in the same clearing where the clash between the vampires and dragons took place. Elena is waiting for me, no longer stooped over her cane, but standing tall and proud. Her white hair hangs loose, reaching her waist and contrasting with her midnight gown. Her lips are painted red, and when she smiles at me, it looks like a slash on her gaunt face.

  She’s still keeping my mouth shut, so all I can do is glare at her. She forces me to stop a foot away from her, right on the other side of a dark spot on the grass.

  “Isn’t tonight a lovely evening, Aurora? A perfect time for a celebration,” she says.

  Fuck you, bitch!

  She chuckles, shaking her head. “Ah, I can only imagine the petty names you must be calling me. It’s amusing really when I’m the one who should, by rights, be angry. You tried to screw me over, after all.”

  Damn, I wish I had the power to stun her with my eyes.

  “What? You didn’t think I wouldn’t know that you were fucking around with that Blueblood? I don’t know how you managed to circumvent the preventive spell I placed on you, but it matters not anymore.”

  Her hateful stare drifts to a point behind me. I can’t turn, but I can hear footsteps crunching the grass, getting closer.

  “Ah, my second guest has arrived.”

  When Calvin appears in my line of vision, my anxiety spikes through the roof. He doesn’t seem to be here against his will.

  “Did you bring the grimoire?” she asks him.

  “Yes. I’ve got it.” He looks at me with so much hatred that it feels like a punch to my chest.

  My adrenaline is rising to dangerous levels, which makes it harder to breathe. The shakes racking my body are impossible to hide. Elena, Calvin, and the first grimoire. This can’t end well for me. I can’t even scream for help.

  “Good,” Elena says. “Just set it on the ground.”

  “Wait. You said that there was a spell in here that would make Aurora and her bloodsucking lover pay for what they did to me.”

  “Yes, patience, boy. First, we must finish what we started.”

  “What the h—”

  He freezes mid-sentence after Elena throws a sparkling powder over him. He can’t move a muscle besides his eyeballs, which are twitching frantically, alternating between looking at me and her.

  Suddenly, I sense the power keeping my mouth shut release. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, dear Aurora? You know what I want, and unfortunately, I still need you to get it for me. When this fool here burst into the council headquarters yesterday, filled with rage and jealousy, it was easy enough to convince him to bring me the grimoire. He’s dead set on making you and your Blueblood pay.”

  She bends over, reaching inside a large bag she has by her feet.

  “What are you going to do? You can't force me to marry him.”

  She smiles slyly, waving a fresh vine in her hands. “Oh my dear, but I can.”

  Walking without any difficulty, she ties one end of the vine around my left wrist then does the same around Calvin’s.

  “What’s this?”

  “This vine represents your union. Now, the sacrifice.”

  She cuts me right above the knot, deep enough that immediately, droplets of blood soak the vine. Her blade strikes Calvin too, and at once, I begin to feel the tangles of earthly magic wrap around me. My stomach twists savagely, making me so sick that I’d be puking my guts out right now if Elena weren’t controlling my body.

  She turns her face skyward, lifting both arms above her head, and begins to chant. “Ancient gods of the Earth, hear now my prayer.”

  “No! I refute this vow! You c—”

  With a flick of her wrist, she cuts off my ability to speak.

  “In this midnight hour, I call upon the ancient powers of the moon, of the stars, of the earth, of the wind. With these sacred vines, I bind these souls through the sacrifice of spilled blood. Body to body. Spirit to spirit. Heart to heart. So must it be.”

  The most excruciating pain pierces through my chest. I can’t feel my legs anymore, and I know the only reason I’m still standing upright is because of Elena. A scream of despair rises up in my throat, but it gets lodged there, choking me. It feels like I’m dying.

  I search deep inside of me for the bond, fearing the worst. What if Elena broke it somehow? There’s a small flicker. I can still sense Saxon, but it’s not as potent as it used to be. I route all my strength to it, hoping I can reach him before Elena unleashes doom all over Salem.

  Saxon, my love. I need you.

  Saxon

  When we reach downtown, chaos is already reigning supreme. Some buildings are in flames. There are people on the streets running around like headless chickens as they try to get away from the rioters responsible for the mess. Through the noise of shouts, breaking glass, and crackling fire, I also p
ick up wolves howling in the distance. I can’t tell if those shifters are from Marcus’s pack or Coyote’s.

  Karl and Cheryl quickly disappear in the dark smoke, heading in the direction of the wolves. At least there aren’t any shifted dragons—yet. But Lucca, Ronan, and I are more concerned with finding Jacques or any of his sycophants in the crowd. It’s clear that he’s behind this, and knowing how the motherfucker operates, he’s somewhere nearby. It’s not his MO to simply stay away. That’s more in line with Tatiana’s style to just sit on her ass and watch the destruction from afar.

  It doesn’t take long for my nose to pick up the stench of the enemy even through the smoke. They have a distinct rotten smell that’s impossible to miss. Killing so many innocent people throughout the centuries does that to vampires. I was lucky that I saw the light before I turned into one of those monsters.

  I unsheathe my katana and glance at my friends. “Do you smell that?”

  “Yes,” Lucca growls. “Those bastards are near.”

  We break into a run, going east on Essex Street until we reach the Hawthorne Hotel where we find the bloodiest part of the fight. Immediately I spot King Raphael fighting like the beast he is. He swings his sword in a powerful arc and decapitates a bloodsucker who was dumb enough to face off against the king.

  We don’t pause as we join the fight. There are more than our enemies here. We also have to deal with dragons and their fucking guns, firing willy-nilly. King Raphael and his guards are all wearing bulletproof vests, just like we are. We can’t die of a bullet wound, but it will slow us down, which can be fatal.

  “Don’t kill any of the dragons!” Ronan shouts over the cacophony.

  “Are you crazy? They have assault weapons,” I argue, swinging my katana when a regular vampire tries to stick me with his pitiful blade.

  His head rolls off his neck in a shower of blood. It gets in my eyes, and now I’m seriously pissed.