Born In Blood (Born Hunter Book 1)

by Nia Davenport

  Reyes motioned for their waitress to bring over a sixth round. The petite redhead arrived with three new shot glasses and an unopened bottle of tequila. Cara immediately noticed the red-stained bottle for what it was and sobered up.

  “Um, that is not what we are drinking,” she pointed at the bottle the waitress sat on the table.

  Reiya eyes widened as she took in its label as well. “It sure isn’t. I love you guys, and I know I said tonight was my treat, but I cannot afford that even with my fancy new Field Director’s salary.”

  “Leave it,” Reyes instructed the petite waitress.

  “Cara can afford it. She might as well put that ridiculous trust fund of hers to some use. Who has millions of dollars at their disposal and refuses to touch a penny of it?” he teased her.

  Cara tensed at the mention of the money she inherited when her father died.

  “Reyes!” Reiya admonished her twin.

  “Reiya,” Reyes childishly mocked her back.

  “It’s cool. We both know Reyes is an idiot,” Cara assured Reiya then turned to the idiot himself. She sweetly smiled at him while kicking him as hard as she could in the shin underneath the table.

  “Fuck, Cara!” he yelped.

  Reiya offered him a smirk that said serves you right. “There must have been a mistake. We are drinking Repasado Silver, not Platinum,” she told to the waitress.

  “The tequila is compliments of a gentleman I assume is an admirer of hers,” the redhead explained and motioned to Cara.

  “Excuse me, WHO?” Cara choked out.

  “He wishes to remain anonymous,” the waitress responded apologetically before she turned on her heels and left.

  “Oooh, Cara has a secret admirer,” Reyes tormented her.

  “Secret admirer my ass. Something doesn’t smell right about this. I am going to get to the bottom of it.” Cara downed a glass of water in an attempt to clear her head of the alcohol-induced haze, then stood up and marched over to the flame haired waitress behind the bar.

  Reyes shrugged downing his shot and her untouched one. “Does she always have to be so pissy?” he asked his twin.

  Reiya sighed and threw back her shot as well. “You know Cara. She always has to have her I am a bad-ass and don’t fuck with me panties on.”

  “Before you torture a poor, innocent waitress for information, why don’t you try going directly to the source,” Aiden stated matter-of-factly as he slid onto an open barstool beside Cara.

  Cara eyes shot daggers into his as she turned and faced him. “She gave up her status as a poor innocent the second she allowed you to drag her into whatever game you’re playing.”

  A slight smile played upon Aiden’s lips and Cara mentally damned herself to hell for noticing how incredibly attractive he was when he pseudo-smiled.

  “So you would really harm a human? One whose only crime is being asked to deliver an expensive bottle of tequila to the wrong person at the wrong time?”

  “I would not hesitate to harm anybody, human or vampire, if it meant protecting the people close to me. Their guilt or innocence be damned.”

  Aiden’s eyes glinted with a hint of what Cara would have taken as approval maybe even respect if she did not know any better.

  Tired of the crap, Cara jumped up from her seat and faced the vampire prince head-on. She had never been one for small talk and she sure was not about to indulge in it now. She spread her feet a little farther apart and bent her legs at the knees a fraction, balancing out her weight and preparing her body for a possible attack. “The only thing that outlandishly priced bottle from an anonymous admirer was designed to do was make me suspicious enough to draw me away from my friends to seek out further information about its sender. And here I am. All isolated and alone, suspicions effectively piqued. What. Do. You. Want. With. Me.”

  “To have a drink of course.” The bastard bestowed a smile upon her that had ten thousand watts of brilliance and charm wrapped in it and motioned for her to sit back down.

  Cara remained standing, refusing to take the bait. “Like hell you do. You weren’t trying to have a drink when you were attempting to rip my throat out three nights ago.”

  The Dark Prince smiled even brighter. “Technically I was. Although tonight my attempts are much more… civil.”

  But just as terrifying, Cara thought to herself. She conspicuously dropped a blade concealed in the inner sleeve of her leather jacket into her palm.

  “I would not if I were you,” Aiden warned. “You may walk out of here alive but I can guarantee that your friends over there will not.”

  Cara’s blood ran cold. “You sonofabitch,” she hissed at him.

  Quicker than she could blink, the vampire prince dropped all pretenses of civility. He slid off his own barstool and straightened to his full height. He towered over her by at least half a foot. It was an action Cara had no doubt was meant to intimidate her. The being that glared down at her looked every inch the deadly heir to the dark throne that the entire supernatural world and the select humans that knew anything other than themselves existed dreaded.

  “Refer to me in that manner again and I will dismember you,” he practically growled at her.

  “Do I detect mommy issues, Your Darkness?” Cara purposely baited him.

  She could tell she had unknowingly struck a nerve, but now she was going to milk it for all it was worth. The more she kept his attention on her, the less time it had to wander to her Reyes and Reiya. She spied them out the corner of her eye sweetly teasing and joking with one another, as close siblings were prone to do. Every so often they would glance toward her and exchange knowing smirks with one another. No doubt they assumed the stranger at the bar with his back turned to them to be her anonymous admirer and she was being the usual stick-up-the-ass Cara and bitching him out for the audacity. They were clueless to the danger that lurked not twenty feet away from them, and she preferred to keep it that way.

  “Not everyone has parental issues Hunter.” The Dark Prince’s jab answered at least one question that nagged her since their encounter in the alley. It was not by chance if he was hinting at her past.

  His demeanor abruptly switched again, his expression flickering from menacing and deadly to arrogant and glib. The not so subtle reminder of her father’s brutal murder was like a punch to the gut. She steeled herself against the flood of painful memories that threatened to consume her. Cara stared straight-ahead, into the broad chest of the bastard of a vampire in front of her. She refused to be made to look up at him, as if she was inferior and he lorded over her like he lorded over the entire freaking world. Being raised among and as one of Manhattan’s Upper East Side Blue Bloods, she could do haughty with the best of them.

  She masked the well of hurt the single flippant comment caused with pretentiousness and a menacing air of her own as she spoke. “This conversation is over. I am going to go collect my friends and leave. If you as much as think about harming them, I will do the world a favor and detach your head from your body.”

  Aiden sat in stunned silence as she self-righteously marched away and did exactly as she said she would. He had never encountered a creature like her in his entire life. She was tough and proud and stubborn to a fault. But for all her strength, she also had brains and beauty to match. She possessed a cunning and quick-witted mind wrapped inside a stunningly attractive package. At 5 foot 7, her height surpassed that of the average human male, but her petite frame and soft feminine features made her appear delicate and rather dainty. An observation Aiden knew from first-hand experience was anything but the truth.

  Five

  Cara looked up at the 30-story high rise known as Cavanaugh Towers. The setting sun reflecting off its solid glass panes made it glitter like a jewel in the evening sky. Cavanaugh Towers, with its grandiose architecture, lavish penthouses and hefty price tag, was the Upper East Side abode to reside in. The crystalline door trimmed in gold swung open as the doorman her grandparents had employed since she was a young child
warmly greeted her.

  “Miss Cavanaugh!” Renaldi exclaimed with genuine warmth. “You do not make it by to visit us nearly enough. I assume your grandparents are expecting you? The elevator is waiting to carry you to the top floor.”

  “Thank you Mr. Renaldi. It is nice to see you as well. I know my visit is long overdue, but work is pretty hectic.”

  Renaldi placed a hand in between the elevator doors to stop them before they shut. “Your grandparents really do miss you Miss Cavanaugh. They love you dearly. They speak of you all the time… I think it sometimes breaks their hearts that they do not see you as often as they would like,” the elderly man gently chided her.

  “I know. I really will make a greater effort to come around more,” she promised the doorman as well as herself as the elevator’s doors quietly slid closed.

  Cara adored her grandparents. As a child she spent entire weeks with them at a time while her parents, a respected surgeon and renowned archaeologist, were consumed with work. Edward and Carolyn Cavanaugh adored their only grandchild as much as she did them, showering her with constant affection and love. They had been like a set of surrogate parents to Cara before her father died. Afterwards, out of grief her mother dismissed all things that reminded her of or left her connected to the memory of her husband, including Cara’s grandparents. Once Cara was old enough to visit them herself, several years had passed and though she loved them dearly, like her mother, seeing them was just too painful a reminder of her father. That was the one and only instance in which Cara and Dianna, even semi agreed on anything. But unlike her mother, Cara did not go to the extreme of completely severing all ties with Edward and Carolyn. Seeing them regularly brought to the surface too may painful memories she would rather keep buried deep inside, but she did make an effort to visit them twice a year. Once on her grandfather’s birthday and again on her grandmother’s. Today marked her grandfather’s 75th birthday, which her grandmother planned an intimate dinner in celebration of.

  The elevator let Cara off outside her grandparents’ penthouse that consumed the entire thirtieth floor of Cavanaugh Towers. She politely knocked at the door. A tall elderly woman of Russian descent with broad shoulders and blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun affectionately welcomed her in.

  “The food smells lovely Irina. Its scent teased me all the way to the door,” Cara complimented the housekeeper on the dinner she prepared.

  Irina smiled widely and motioned her toward the formal dining room. Cara navigated her way out of her grandparents’ foyer and down a hall whose walls were tastefully decorated with various family portraits. She momentarily paused in front of one of her parents and herself that was taken the Christmas before her father was murdered. The mother smiling back at her was the Dianna of the past. Outgoing, high-spirited, and happy. She saw the mother she loved so thoroughly as a child. Edwin appeared as he always did… timeless, unyielding, respectable, and dedicated to providing for his family. Cara remembered how happy her family had been. How her parents loved each other, their daughter, and life so fiercely. She fought back tears at the unwelcome memory of life before devastation struck. Cara quickly moved down the length of the hallway, keeping her eyes straight ahead so she did not see any more reminders of the future that had been snatched away by her father’s murderer.

  “Cara!” her grandparents exclaimed in unison the moment they spotted her.

  “My how I miss you, ma petite fille,” Carolyn gushed as she walked around the ornate wooden table and embraced her granddaughter in a tight hug.

  “I miss you too, grand-mère,” Cara hugged her grandmother back, using the French endearment for grandmother simply out of habit. From the time she could talk Carolyn insisted she call her grand-mère in lieu of grandmother or any other derivative of the name.

  “I know our birthday gatherings are normally just between us three, but your grandfather invited a last minute guess,” Cara’s grandmother confessed with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  Taking that as his cue, her grandfather stood from his seat at the head of the table and wrapped her into a big bear hug. “I normally leave the meddling to your grandmother dear. However, I got wind that a strapping young lad and very eligible bachelor recently took up residence in the building. He bought out the entire 25th floor! I ventured down to introduce myself and what you would have it, the rumors from the old hens are true. He is a fine, respectable fellow, and I thought now this is the kind of man I would like to see my Cara bear settle down with before I die.”

  Cara inwardly groaned. “Grandfather please stop calling me that. I’m not five years old anymore.”

  “Nonsense,” her grandfather waved his hand dismissively. “It does not matter how old you get or how many vampires you hunt, you will always be my little Cara bear.”

  Most of the human world was intentionally naïve to the existence of any being other than themselves, but Edward Cavanaugh was arguably the most wealthy and influential man in New York City. He did not attain or maintain that level of power by not being in the know about any and every thing.

  Almost everything, Cara amended as Irina led their ‘last minute guest’ into the formal dining room. Cara’s eyes bulged out of her head as her heart momentarily stopped beating and then restarted itself. The damn Dark Prince himself was standing beside her grandparents’ dinner table bearing flowers and a bottle of vintage wine. Her grandfather had invited the devil himself into his home and was completely oblivious to the fact.

  Aiden delivered a respectful nod toward her grandfather and presented her grandmother with the bouquet of yellow roses and bottle of wine. Her grandmother eyed him suspiciously, but politely accepted the gifts. She handed them both to Irina who disappeared down the hall.

  “Cara, Aiden. Aiden, meet my lovely granddaughter, Cara,” her grandfather introduced them.

  He made a show of bowing exaggeratedly before her and placing a light kiss on the back of her hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he discreetly smirked up at her.

  Cara felt the urge to knee him in his sternum but fought it. She refused to visit violence upon her grandparents’ home. For a second time in two days this godforsaken vampire had popped up around her loved ones and she was growing sick of whatever warped game he was playing at. She yanked her hand out of his grasp and wiped the back of it on her cream-colored slacks.

  “I am starved. Is dinner ready?” Cara asked her grandmother, rudely turning her back on the heir to the vampire throne.

  Carolyn smiled approvingly at her. “Of course dear. Irina will be bringing out the first course any moment now. Let us have a seat.” She motioned towards the cherry wood dining table that spanned the length of the room.

  Throughout dinner Cara’s grandfather kept telling Aiden how terrific Cara was and hinting at Cara what an amazing catch Aiden would be. It took everything within her not to stab her carotid with a steak knife and put herself out of her misery. Cara’s grandmother sat at the opposite end of the table silently scrutinizing her unbeknownst vampire guest the entire time. At least one of her grandparents was not fooled by his act. Eventually Cara excused herself to the balcony no longer able to stomach her grandfather’s matchmaking efforts.

  Cara sensed the vampire’s presence long before he ever spoke. He smelled of spring showers and the crisp night air. His scent both cloyed and pulled at her. She did not have to turn around to know he was standing at the balcony’s entrance silently taking her measure, stealthily scanning for weaknesses, and slyly contemplating the precise moment of his attack. His actions were synonymous to those of a big cat with prey insight. Yup, Cara thought rather cynically. The hunter has definitely become the hunted.

  Finally Aiden spoke. “Your grandfather asked me to bring you a post-dinner Madeira. He says it will pair nicely with the crème brulee.”

  Fighting the urge to turn and face him, Cara gripped the edge of the balcony and continued staring at the glittering lights of the Manhattan skyline.

  “Most in
dividuals would be terrified at the mere thought of having me at their back.”

  Cara rolled her eyes at the arrogance of his proclamation, which in all fairness was nevertheless true. As heir to the vampire throne, he had been raised in the image of his sociopathic father. Viktor, the vampire’s Sovereign Ruler, was the most bloodthirsty, diabolical creature to ever exist. Caligula, Nero, Ivan the Terrible, Attila the Hun, none of them came close to the ruthlessness of the vampire ruler. He murdered without provocation, massacred without prejudice, and definitively destroyed all those who would think to stand against him. The Dark Prince was every bit as deadly and pitiless as his father. Cara was in fact scared shitless with having him at her back, but her pride refused to let it show just as it kept her tightly gripping the balcony, giving him only her back.

  “What game are you playing at?” She threw the question over her shoulder, masking her fear with ire and irritation.

  “It depends on which one you are willing to play along with.”

  The distance between them suddenly shrank. Cara felt Aiden’s searing warmth radiating from behind her. The invitation was whispered into her ear and felt as much like a viper’s sting as a lover’s caress.

  “You are deranged. First you try to rip my throat out and then you show up a few nights later gifting expensive tequila and threats of dismemberment at a Chelsea bar. Now you’re offering me a dessert-wine sent via my grandfather in an attempt to make a suitable match between the two of us!”

  The absurdity of it all left Cara bordering on the precipice of hysteria. She inhaled and then exhaled on a long breath attempting to calm herself. Intuition told her she could not afford to have anything but a level head when dealing with this vampire. He may have been trying to bring about her untimely death during their first encounter, but since then his actions had been less about her demise and more about mentally unhinging her. The ploy with the tequila, cornering her at the bar, moving into her grandparents’ building and showing up at their place for dinner, it all pointed to him attempting to disconcert her. His actions told her he wanted something from her and that something hinged on her losing control. Cara had no clue what that something was or why his motives would have changed between their initial encounter and now. Cara did know that whatever it was, if the Dark Prince wanted it, she would damn well do everything in her power to find out what it was and never let him have it.