Vampire’s Descent: Willow Harbor - Book Two

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Maybe glancing at the first couple pages might be a good idea, that way we’ll at least know what the book is about,” I said. The book grew warmer, as though responding to my words, agreeing with me. It called to me in some strange way I didn’t understand.

  “Don’t,” Claire insisted. “Remember what Lena said.”

  Claire grabbed the book from me. She placed it on the desk where it had been before. A heaviness sank into my limbs as its warmth disappeared from my hands.

  “I know,” I said without removing my gaze from the book.

  “Do you think the smoky-looking thing on the video was a hellhound?”

  “I don’t know much about them, but yeah. I think it’s safe to say that’s what it was. Why it’s attached to that book is another question, though.” There had to be something important written within its pages. “Why would a hellhound be attached to a journal?”

  “I have no clue, but I’ve got a feeling whatever is in that book isn’t anything good.”

  Even though the book called to me, I felt the same way. Why else would it need so much protection?

  Eight

  Claire

  I made a bowl of popcorn and curled up on my brother’s couch. I’d skipped dinner again, but this time it wasn’t because I couldn’t eat. It was because I was too consumed by what we’d learned tonight.

  It was strange to me that Danny had been contacting Lena. While I wasn’t sure the way her gift worked, or what kind of supernatural creature she was to harbor such a gift, I did know I was thankful she’d reached out to me. Without her sharing where to look for the journal, we would never have been able to find it so soon. It might have taken weeks or months before we became frustrated enough to start flipping through each book, searching for something hidden.

  Lena had been a lifesaver.

  Not only was I glad she’d told us where the book was, but I was also glad Mason had been there while I watched the video. That was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do and having Mason there gave me a small sense of comfort, especially when he’d reached out to hold my hand. I’d felt something then, but I hadn’t been in a position to dwell on what until now.

  Mason was a good guy. There was more to him than his good looks. He had multiple layers to him I was just noticing. There was a darkness inside him, but that was something every supernatural had. Hell, even humans had it. We all had a daily choice whether to tap into it. Some were faced with that decision more than others, but the point was Mason never gave in. He was a fighter, and I liked that about him.

  An image of him holding the book flashed through my mind.

  That darkness had awoken within him. I’d watched it swirl through his eyes, dulling their color. Something about the book had called to him, and a large part of me wanted to know why. Was the book meant for vampires? Maybe it wasn’t a journal, but an old handwritten text that had something to do with vampires.

  My gaze drifted across the apartment to where I’d left it on the kitchen counter. I flung my blanket off and stood to retrieve it.

  It was cool to the touch. There was a softness to the cover I enjoyed. My feet started toward the couch again as I took in the design on the front. There were strange leaves and swirls embossed across the cover. I situated myself on the couch with my blanket again and flipped the book over to check out its spine and the back. Curiosity about its contents pulled at me.

  Should I open it and read the first page? Surely that wouldn’t be enough to bring the hellhound back. Would it?

  I thought back to the video. Hours had passed from the time Danny locked the bookstore up for the night and when the hellhound came for him. He’d probably been reading the book the entire time.

  One page shouldn’t cause any trouble.

  My hand shook as I flipped open to the first page. I held my breath, waiting and listening for any sign the hellhound might be coming. When nothing happened, I glanced at the page. Everything was handwritten in beautiful calligraphy. The paper was yellowed with age and the scent of old ink was intoxicating. I focused on the first sentence, struggling to make out what it said. Calligraphy had never been my forte.

  Her beauty surpasses any flower or picturesque scenery a mind could ever imagine…

  I read further, thinking it was a journal about some lovesick guy who pined after a woman. Until I noticed the word vampire scratched across the yellowed page halfway through. I continued to read. It didn’t take long to figure out the book wasn’t about a lovesick guy. It was about the vampire he loved, but this was no love story. Instead, it was a manual he’d written for her. The beginning had only been a poem for her that confessed his unyielding love.

  I glanced at the page, skimming its contents again. It definitely was a manual written for vampires, but for what?

  I guessed that explained Mason’s reaction to it. The way the darkness always festering inside him had seemed to overtake him for a split-second. He’d seemed hypnotized by the book, as though it was begging him to read its pages.

  Maybe it had been.

  I needed to know more.

  I turned the page and read, soaking in the as much as I could quickly. Once I reached the end of both available to me, my fingers turned the page again on their own accord. Two new pages were revealed, waiting to be read. It was impossible to close the book without reading them, even though I knew I should. My eyes scanned the sentences as quickly as I could.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered as another secret of the book revealed itself to me.

  It hadn’t been written by a human or even a vampire; it had been written by a vampire hunter for his vampire love.

  But what was it for? Even reading as much as I already had, I still didn’t know the answer.

  I flipped the page, eager to learn all I could in the short span of time I was giving myself. My eyes remained glued to the pages as I read them quickly.

  “Oh my God!” I shouted louder than I probably should.

  The hunter had tracked down a spell that would give a vampire the ability to feed on the life energy of a living creature and not only their blood.

  Doubling their power. Doubling their strength. They would be unstoppable.

  The fine hairs on the back of my neck lifted as I reread the paragraph explaining it again. I flipped to the next page. The beginning of a story entailing an actual encounter this hunter had with a vampire who’d undergone the ritual and gained such powers from it was written.

  How the hell had my dad’s friend gotten this book in his possession? No wonder Danny had said it would either make us a shit ton of money or get us killed.

  It wasn’t the kind of book a person kept lying around. It was the type of book you hid well, exactly like Danny had done.

  Coldness bit at my skin. It was sudden and sharp, jolting me awake from the haze the book had seemed to put me under. I knew it was Danny. He was warning me to close the book. I could feel it.

  “I know. I shouldn’t have opened it. Lena told us not to,” I said as I snapped it shut. “I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what it was about.”

  The coldness left me as quickly as it came. Danny was probably satisfied now that the book was closed. Every part of my mind screamed at me to continue reading, though. My fingers gripped the edge of the cover as I went to war with myself. Knowledge was power, right? I couldn’t truly prove Danny hadn’t killed himself, that he’d been attacked by a hellhound who guarded this book, unless I knew exactly what the book contained. Maybe there was something more than a ritual to give a vampire more power inside.

  How would I know unless I read more?

  A deadly growl rumbled through the apartment. My breath hitched in my throat and I froze, praying what I’d heard had been a trick of my mind. I glanced around, searching for any sign of the hellhound. I didn’t see anything, but I could hear it. The sound of its breathing floated through the apartment to my ears. It wasn’t close, but the fact it was here at all had alarm ringing through me.

&nb
sp; My muscles tensed. What should I do? If I set the book aside and promised not to touch it again, would it go away?

  Another sensation of coldness touched my shoulder. Danny knew the beast was here too. I wished he was here in physical form so he could tell me what to do. How was I supposed to fight something I couldn’t see?

  The sound of toenails clicking against the hardwood floor ricocheted through the silent apartment. My heart lurched to my throat. I needed to shift. I’d be able to protect myself better in my panther form, but I was positive any swift movement would make the hellhound attack.

  Mason, I could call out for him. He would hear me.

  What good would it do, though? There wasn’t much distance between me and the hellhound. He’d eat me before Mason made it to me. Shit. I had no other option besides forcing a change as quickly as I could. I prayed the beast didn’t sink his teeth into me before I could complete it. If so, I was seriously out of luck. I’d be stuck in between forms while trying to fight him off. I’d be powerless against him. I held my breath and listened, struggling to gauge how close he was over the pounding of my heart.

  He was closer than before, but he still wasn’t on me yet. I estimated he was about seven feet away from the front of the coffee table.

  Without removing my clothes, I arched my body forward and forced the change. My bones twisted and bent as they obeyed my will. A cry of anguish rushed past my parted lips. Never had I forced a change to happen this quickly. It wasn’t wise, but I didn’t have a choice. This was do or die.

  And I’d chosen to say screw dying.

  Another scream ripped past my lips as my muscles lengthened to help form my new shape; it turned into a growl near the end. The instant I completed the change was the same instant the hellhound slammed into me. The front door to Danny’s apartment burst open, and Mason came crashing inside. Relief trickled through me. Two on one held better odds.

  Any sense of relief disappeared as the hellhound’s sharp fangs sank into my shoulder a split-second later and blinding pain reverberated through my body.

  Nine

  Mason

  The scent of Claire’s sweet blood made its way to my nose. Even though I’d eaten earlier, it still sent a craving for more rippling through me. My feet faltered in the threshold to her brother’s apartment. The pitter-patter of her heart kicked up a notch as I struggled to make sense of what was happening here. Another howl of pain bellowed from her beautiful panther form. It snapped me from my trance. Dark shifting smoke rolled in on itself, creating the shape of an oversized dog.

  The hellhound was here.

  I was across the apartment in a flash. Without hesitation, I reached for the beast. My fingers didn’t reach right through the thing like I’d thought. Instead I found he was tangible. A jolt of electricity zapped me when I made contact with him. My vampire side rushed to the surface of my mind as I tapped into survival mode. There was something dark and a demonic about this creature. It had me wanting to protect myself in the only way I knew how, by releasing my fangs and tapping into my own inner darkness.

  The beast released his grip on Claire and shifted around to face me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Claire’s panther form slump across the cushions of the couch. Was she okay? The desire to check on her pulsed through me, but I couldn’t turn my attention away from the hellhound’s blood-red eyes. They glowed with an eerie vibrancy. A low, menacing growl spurred past its curled lips, and I knew I’d managed to add myself to its list of enemies in the room.

  Why was it here? Had Claire opened the book?

  The hellhound inched toward me, his eyes never wavering from mine. A whine floated through the air, distracting me for a split-second. It was Claire. My gaze flicked to her. She was bleeding out on Danny’s couch. How? Couldn’t she heal herself? Didn’t all shifters harbor that kind of power?

  The sound of bones popping and cracking filled the room, followed by an electrical charge that ignited through the air. Claire’s low whimpers turned to tiny gasps of agony. She was shifting back into her human form. A sheen of sweat beaded across her bare skin as her face contorted in pain. I needed to get to her, to comfort her, but one thing stood in my way.

  The hellhound.

  My gaze snapped back to him. He was staring at me as though I were his next meal. Why he hadn’t already attacked I wasn’t sure. I had no choice except to get rid of him. It was the only way I’d be able to get to Claire.

  I felt along the tips of my sharp fangs while I thought of my options. There weren’t many. Basically, I needed to take the beast down. It was the only way. Leaving Claire wasn’t an option.

  My gaze drifted back to her. Her eyes were closed, but she continued to moan and whimper. Whatever pain she was feeling must be excruciating.

  At least she wouldn’t see the monster I was about to allow myself to become.

  I bared my fangs and focused my attention on the hellhound. His eyes were on me still, watching and waiting for me to make the first move. He was close to me now. Too close. When had he moved? I didn’t have time to react to his nearness before his teeth sank into the side of my right hand.

  Fire burst through my veins, nearly bringing me to my knees. Something potent was in the hellhound’s bite. Venom or poison.

  This wasn’t good.

  In fact, it made one thing certain in the span of a few seconds: I wouldn’t be a hero today like I’d thought because the hellhound was going to kill me.

  Venom wasn’t something I harbored. All I had was strength, speed, and fangs. None of which would help me individually; I needed to use them together.

  Which meant I had to let go. Completely. I needed to shut off my mind and allow the vampire side of me to take control.

  The beast lunged at me again, barely missing another bite at my hand. I locked my gaze on him. The primal instinct to survive, to fight back, kicked in.

  Time slowed as my left hand flew forward. I gripped hold of the beast by the neck and squeezed with all my might. A whimper pushed past its black lips. I’d caught it off guard. Without hesitating, I sank my fangs into the scruff of its neck. Its howl blasted through the apartment as an exotic taste surged across my tongue.

  One of smoke and black licorice.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled in one large, greedy gulp after another. Strength, unlike anything I’d ever felt before, rushed through me with each swallow. There was power in its blood, and I could feel it entering me.

  The hellhound’s heartbeat fluttered before the beast grew limp in my arms. He was dying. I’d drained him and won. However, I couldn’t bring myself to release him. I wanted more of the energy within his blood. I needed it. As the final drop touched my tongue, I pushed the beast away. With my hands rested on my knees, I closed my eyes and struggled to gain composure. Something was happening inside me. Something strong. Drinking the hellhound’s blood had changed something.

  Claire whimpered again, and I knew I would have to worry about the consequences of drinking its blood later.

  All that mattered right now was her.

  I made my way to Claire. The sound of her heartbeat was fading. She’d lost too much blood. Her shoulder was mangled beyond recognition, and the pillows around her were soaked in her blood.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you help.” I reached for the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch and covered her naked body. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Hang on.”

  Her eyes fluttered at the sound of my voice, or maybe my touch, but they didn’t remain open. She was so weak. I slipped my arms underneath her as carefully as I could and lifted.

  “No… No hospital,” she whispered.

  “You’ve lost too much blood. I have to take you there. You need help. There was something in its saliva that must be making it impossible for you to regenerate.” It was the only explanation I had for why my hand it gnawed on hadn’t been healed.

  “No, take me to Ida.”

  What could the
old woman who owned the bakery next to the bookstore do for her? I didn’t understand.

  “Please, Mason, take me to Ida,” Claire whispered.

  Her head fell against my chest as her body grew limp in my arms.

  I wasted no time exiting Danny’s apartment and making my way toward the stairs. I didn’t know what Ida’s magical capabilities were or how she could help, but I had to trust Claire knew. There had to be a reason she’d insisted on seeing the old woman instead of an actual doctor. I wished she’d stayed conscious long enough to tell me where the woman lived, because the probability of her still being at the bakery after midnight wasn’t likely.

  I carried Claire down the narrow stairs leading to the sidewalk. Once I pushed through the glass door at the bottom, I headed next door to the bakery, praying for a damn miracle.

  There were no lights on inside the bakery when I made it to the door, but there was a young woman exiting the shop. Flour dusted her dark skin and clothes. I didn’t know her name, but remembered seeing her coming and going enough times to know she worked here. Either she was an employee or of some relation to Ida.

  She’d be able to get me in touch with the old woman; that much I knew.

  “I need to see Ida,” I insisted as I erased the distance between us.

  The young woman spun to face me. Words rested on her lips, but they stalled out when she noticed Claire in my arms.

  “Please, I need to get Claire to Ida,” I pleaded.

  “Ida isn’t here. She won’t be until morning.” Her gaze swept over Claire’s limp form. “What happened? What did you do to her?”

  Her tone was sharp and accusing. I ignored everything it made me feel and took another step forward.

  “Nothing. This wasn’t me,” I insisted. “We were attacked by a hellhound.”