“I will.”
“Bye!” Jane ends the call so I fire off a quick text to Ramirez, letting him know the same thing I told Jane. Can’t have anyone panicking because they can’t get ahold of me. Last thing I need is to be the subject of a search party.
Pocketing my phone, I walk toward the frosted glass window near the back and stare out over the sprawling land that has belonged to the Astor family since Salem was first settled. My sister and I explored nearly every nook and cranny of this place, minus the bunker beneath me.
We didn’t step foot in there until after our parents died.
I still remember it vividly, being so broken over the loss. My grandmother left no room for argument though. She dragged Delaney and me down here so we would know what to do with the place once she was gone.
Delaney went without argument. I, on the other hand? I wanted nothing to do with the world that murdered my parents.
Now, here we are, years later, and it’s claimed the lives of not only my grandmother—but my sister as well.
How long will it be before the Reaper comes for me?
31
Rainey
“So this is the place your sister referred to?” Elijah asks when I step back into the living room fifteen minutes later.
“Yes.”
“I can understand why neither of you wished to venture down here. To a child, this place would be equivalent to a monster beneath the bed.”
I stroll over to the bookcase and lift one of the old leather-bound texts. “We would sit outside and watch our parents come down here with our grandparents. It didn’t used to bother me, but there was one night I swear I heard screams.” After replacing the book, I reach for another. Fangs are the only marking on the cover, hand-carved by a hunter generation before me.
“I can still hear them,” I say and shut my eyes tightly, recalling the memory. “Delaney and I were lying in bed at the time, and we’d left our window open for the breeze. Our room was on the back of the house, facing the entrance to the shed. It was awful.” I crack open the book and run my fingers down the aged parchment. Most of these books are hundreds of years old, detailing hunter history and creatures only seen in nightmares.
“And Delaney?” he asks, walking to the bookshelf on the other side. He’s avoiding being near me, and I can’t say it upsets me too much.
Elijah makes me feel things that are unnatural to me. Different, alien, and having space to gather my thoughts is appreciated. Especially when my haunted past is trying to claw its way to the front of my mind.
“She didn’t see what I did.”
“What did you see?”
I take a deep breath. What I’m about to say is something I’ve never told anyone. Not my sister, not my parents, and certainly not my grandparents. “I woke up early the morning after the screams and watched my father drag a body from the shed. He disappeared into the tree line with it, and when he came back—it was as though nothing had changed. I was too young to understand what I was then, so to me, I’d just watched my father hide a body.”
“How old were you?”
“Maybe ten? To be honest, most of my childhood is a blur.” I replace the book. “But this has to be the place Delaney was talking about.”
He turns in a slow circle and surveys the space. “Seems like a good place to find answers.”
“It does.” I set the fang-marked book down and turn toward the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to make sure we have food.” I move into the kitchen and head for the cabinets. I pull the first open. It’s full of plates and bowls plus a dozen or so drinking glasses. Closing it, I move to the other. Nothing.
“Found something.” Elijah holds up an MRE with a disgusted look on his face. “This is the food your grandmother stocked?”
“They aren’t that bad,” I defend. “Well, not all of them.” I study the shelves lined with the brown packages and other canned goods. “At least, we won’t starve for a few days. I’ll venture to the store if need be.”
“You don’t need to be venturing anywhere alone.” Elijah replaces the package and shuts the cabinet.
I roll my eyes. “You do realize, of course, that I’ve been taking care of myself for years now.”
“Yes, we’ve covered that. Rainey the badass hunter needs no one. Except when she’s bleeding to death in an alley or nearly being blown to shit by a car bomb.”
I growl. “You done?”
“Yes. I suppose we should start looking.”
“Wait.”
Elijah turns toward me and shoves both hands into the pockets of his slacks. “What now? Do you wish to level me with more of your witty insults?”
“Maybe later,” I snap back. “Right now, I want you to tell me what you wouldn’t before. About my heritage. I brought you here, held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.”
Nodding, he takes a few steps toward me and sits on the arm of the leather sofa. “How much do you know of your history?”
“Not much,” I admit. “I know we’re descended from the original hunter, that we’ve been around nearly as long as the oldest vampire families.”
“That’s true.”
“Do you know how the supernaturals came to exist in the first place?”
I shake my head and drop down into the leather armchair facing him. My parents died before they could teach us, and because of how terrified I was of my grandmother, Delaney never brought me out here after she became my guardian. At least, not often enough to learn anything. Whenever I did come out here, my sister spent a lot of time with our grandmother. Everything changed after my parents died.
But I’ve always known what killed them, and because of that, I pushed my heritage away, blaming it for their deaths. Until I could no longer look the other way.
“Witches are the oldest among this world’s supernaturals. As far as anyone knows, the original witch sold her soul to a fae in exchange for immortality and power.”
“A fae? They’re real?”
He nods. “Very real. And bastards too, they tend to only come to our realm when they wish to meddle with things. They find human reactions amusing.”
“Have you ever met one?” I stare at him in awe. To have met a fae…now that’s one hell of a story.
“Once. Nearly killed him, then the slippery feck slipped back into his realm.”
I smile at his irritation. I can’t imagine Elijah was overly thrilled that he lost a fight.
“Centuries passed with the lone witch, and soon, the power was no longer enough. She was lonely and sought companionship. She fell in love with a human.”
“How can someone with no soul love?”
“It’s not love the way you and I might feel it but more in an obsessive way. She sought the power it could bring her, the loyalty someone in love would bring to the table.”
I don’t miss the subtle nod toward his ability to feel or the reminder that born vampires do indeed possess souls. “So she wished to possess a human for his love.”
“Correct. Now, as you know, humans don’t live but for a blip of a second compared to us, so this witch searched for a spell that would bring him to her side, though she didn’t want to bestow actual power on him. After experimenting for years, she finally found a way to do it. A blood exchange in which he drank the blood of a human while she performed her magic.”
“The first vampire.”
“That’s correct.”
I’m enthralled with his story, hanging on every word of a history I didn’t know anything about and probably should have.
“Years passed in happiness, and eventually, the witch learned to love. She thought they were happy—that eternity would no longer be full of loneliness. Unfortunately, her bliss didn’t last long. He began to change, his power and bloodlust making him unpredictable, and soon he left her and began slaughtering humans without provocation or the need to feed. Heartbroken, she performed another ritual, this one giving a piece o
f her power to a human—a peacekeeper who’d sworn an oath to protect innocents from this monster.”
“The first hunter.”
“Yes. Magnus Astor, your ancestor. But this is where it gets interesting,” Elijah says, his eyes glittering with the promise of more as he slides down onto the couch cushion and leans forward, his elbows propped on the tops of his knees.
I knew my line was descendant from Magnus, but I never realized a witch created him. “More interesting than a blood sacrifice and a cheating, ungrateful vampire?”
“Much more interesting.”
“Then, let’s hear it.”
“The hunter slaughtered the vampire as he’d promised, though not before the vampire started his own clan. Which is how the rest of us remained in existence. The witch was so grateful to her hunter that she began doting on him, crafting spells and creatures he could hunt and kill to hone his abilities while he tracked down the original vampire’s clan.”
“What?” Sickness twists in my stomach like a blade. “She was creating monsters for him to kill? How?”
“By turning humans into animals.”
“Shifters,” I whisper, and Elijah nods.
I’m descended from a psychopath? “She was offering humans to him on a silver platter. And he was okay with this? Who the fuck would be okay with that?”
Elijah shrugs. “Power corrupts. That’s the one constant in any timeline. Ultimate power will change you.”
“It didn’t change you. You don’t hunt to kill.”
Elijah swallows hard and leans back. “I don’t anymore.” His admission weighs heavy on him, that much I can see. Especially when he sighs and shuts his eyes tightly for just a moment before leveling them on me. “I’ve slaughtered hundreds of humans over the years, Rainey. Killed for sport. It wasn’t until I fell in love that I realized there was more to life. A better way to live.”
“Love.” There’s that damned word again. Four letters that have the ability to turn even the smartest, strongest people into complete morons.
“Love is what it all comes down to. It’s the only thing more powerful than power itself. Love can shift the course of history.”
I can’t help but feel his words settle upon me, the underlying concept of two enemies learning to love each other not lost on me.
“The witch loved a human, and thus, the first vampire was born. The vampire loved blood, so the witch crafted a hunter. And the hunter? He loved the hunt, so she created the shifters. And wouldn’t you know, the hunter grew to love the witch, and together, they created the very first ancestral line of hunters.”
I shoot up from my chair. “No. You are not saying what I think you’re saying.”
Slowly, Elijah stands. “What do you think I’m saying?”
“That the Astors are born of both the hunter and the witch.” I knew about Magnus Astor. Knew he was the first hunter. But if what Elijah’s saying is true—
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“You expect me to believe that every hunter and every vampire… and every fucking shifter share the same parentage?” I won’t even mention how awkward that makes me feel about how badly I wanted to screw him not even five minutes ago.
He shakes his head. “Other witches were brought to power the same way the original witch was. They sold their souls. My grandmother for example,” he adds. “There are multiple lines of them and hunters as well. As soon as the original witch’s grimoire was discovered, they took it upon themselves to create full factions of creatures.” He steps toward me. “Sirens, warlocks, goblins, griffins, djinns, ghouls, dragons, the list goes on and on. But you, my dear Rainey, you are the last in the hunter bloodline descending directly from the first of the first. The first witch and the first hunter.”
“We don’t possess magic. If we were of witch heritage, we should possess a spark or something.”
“Not necessarily. Magic does not manifest itself the same in every being. For instance…” he says and disappears.
“What the fuck? Elijah?” I turn in a slow circle, scanning the room for him, but he’s gone. Did the magic expel him?
“Rainey.”
I stiffen, feeling him directly behind me. His fingers trail down the bare skin of my arm, and I shiver, desire coursing through my veins. “How?” I turn to him, tipping my face up so I can see him. He’s only inches from me, so damned close I can feel the heat radiating off his body.
“I have the ability to cloak myself from view. It’s how I followed you, and yet, you never saw me.”
“So all those times I felt someone watching me.”
“It was me. But you should have been able to see me. That’s why I told you there is so much more you need to learn, Rainey. Especially now that someone wants you dead.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t have power, Elijah. I never have.”
“Maybe not, but you are powerful, Rainey. I can feel it.”
“You told me you needed me, why? Does it have something to do with the cure?”
He shakes his head. “Not entirely, anyway. There’s a war coming, Rainey. And I damn sure want to be prepared.”
“A war? What war?”
“Haven’t you felt the shift? Noticed the extra activity in Billings? Something is coming—something big. And I can’t eliminate it on my own.”
A war? Is he serious? “I’ve noticed the extra activity, but not in a way that would suggest war.”
“It’s coming,” he assures me. “I don’t know in what capacity, whether it’s just unrest between the clans here in Billings, or something bigger, but one way or another something is coming.”
A war.
In Billings.
I groan and run both hands over my face. How the hell am I supposed to stop a war I didn’t even know was possible?
“As far as the cure goes, I believe that once the threat is eliminated, you can help me find it. And then I want you to give it to me and take my head off like you promised.”
I whirl on him, mouth falling open. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Have you grown so fond of me, Hunter, that you no longer can fathom the thought of killing me?”
“Of course not,” I lie. Truthfully, the idea of killing him is nearly as repulsive as he was when I first discovered his truth. “I can do it for you now, save you the trouble of finding the cure.”
“I don’t want it for myself.”
Those words surprise me even more than his interest in my killing him. “Who?”
“A friend of mine. A man I had a hand in turning a few centuries ago. I want to give him a chance at a normal life. Break the bond he still has with his dead mate.”
“Oh shit.” Elijah wants to bring relief to his friend. Relief from the pain of loss. “And yet you say you’re not a hero.”
His gaze is intense and without humor. “I’m not.”
I don’t argue, nor do I tell him there’s no fucking way I’m dealing his final blow. “I don’t know where it is.”
“I know you don’t.”
“But you think I can help you find it.”
“Yes. I believe someone in your line possessed it at some point.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because a hunter I crossed paths with when I was in Prague told me as much.”
“A hunter?”
“He believed your family possessed the cure a few centuries ago.”
I turn away, trying to process everything he’s just told me. I don’t doubt its legitimacy. It’s far too detailed to be a lie, though I will be checking through the books so I can separate fact versus fiction.
I’ve never fully trusted hunters. Most of them are far too arrogant for their own good, and as I’ve mentioned before, they’re the first to throw another hunter beneath the blade of an enemy if it suits their greater purpose.
But the thought of the original hunting for sport? Of the fae creating witches, who then in turn created vam
pires and shifters of different origin—wolf, bear, large cat, and all the others—just so the original hunter could kill them? It’s murderous. Hell, it’s worse than that. She changed their DNA, crafted them into something entirely foreign to themselves and those they loved before turning them loose on the world with the sole purpose of being slaughtered.
“Delaney was different than any hunter I’d ever crossed paths with.”
“She was special,” I agree and turn to face him again.
“She didn’t kill mercilessly, and it was never without purpose. For her, the hunt was only to protect humans. You are the same way. It’s why I watched you for so long before showing myself. I had to know you weren’t like the others.”
“Delaney was everything to me,” I say, my voice cracking as the words slide out through my burning throat.
“Delaney loved you, Rainey. But there’s something else you need to know.”
“What?” Dread coils in my stomach, a venomous snake poised to strike and kill the last shred of what I think I know.
He sighs, shoulders slumping beneath the weight of whatever he’s about to tell me. “Delaney was not your sister.”
The blood drains from my face, and my stomach churns as I process his words. They must be lies. Delaney was my sister. We grew up together. I have no memories without her. “That’s a lie,” I growl.
“No, it isn’t. She told me herself.”
“No, no, no. Delaney was my sister. She was my family.”
“She was your family,” he agrees. “But she was a cousin to you—not a sister.”
“That’s not true.” Tears break free, my anger the last straw as they pour down my face. “She would have told me. Someone would have told me.”
“Her mother—your aunt—was killed by a Feline Shifter when Delaney was a baby. He’d sworn vengeance against her entire family, and after Delaney’s father was tracked down and killed, your parents took her in.”
“You’re telling me that my sister was not my sister. Why didn’t they tell me?”
“Delaney didn’t even know until she saw a Seer back in Billings. The Seer told her, and she confronted your grandmother before she was killed.”
Blood Hunt Page 21