Hunted: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 2)

by Keira Blackwood

  Noah looked at me when he spoke, never blinking, never turning to my progeny. “I won’t stop.”

  “We’re going to have to lock you up,” Charles said.

  I crossed the room, a force of wind in the stale air, and lifted Noah by his throat.

  “I won’t stop,” he repeated. “And I’m not alone.”

  His face was hard, unwavering. He was ready to die rather than concede to the amateur queen and her nonsensical rules. I respected that.

  “What do you mean you’re not alone?” Charles asked. He leaned closer, as if the answer was a secret. “Tell me we’re not about to get jumped.” Charles flicked his head side to side, before turning back to Noah. “And tell Walter you’re sorry.”

  But he wasn’t sorry. He never would be.

  As I shoved the blade of my seax between his ribs, I watched his expression as it flicked from stoic determinism to pain, before fading to eternal peace. This mercy should have been granted the last time we were in this situation. I should have ended it then, but I didn’t. Had that error brought more attention to this rebellion? Were there truly more like him out there, killing, and pushing the boundaries of Ashley’s reign?

  I expected a comment from my progeny. Some comment about the severity of Noah’s punishment. But Charles was uncharacteristically quiet.

  I turned and found him dragging a finger over the puncture wounds in the girl’s neck. A trail of red smeared over the circle marks, healing the damage to her tender tissue. Charles stared down at the young woman, an injured thing, vulnerable and broken. There was something in him, a kindness that made him both my opposite and my moral compass. He kept me on the line between monster and man, teetering over the edge of the abyss. Consciously I hadn’t known this when I’d met him, but deep down, maybe I had.

  “It’s time to go,” I said.

  “Sure,” he said. “Yeah.”

  Charles rose to his feet and followed me back into the hall. When I heard him speak again, I knew what he was doing before he said it. He had to. It was his nature.

  “Yes,” he said. “Hi. I’d like to request an ambulance please…”

  Just as we always did, he kept talking, I stopped listening. We both did as we had to do. For me, the message had been sent to those who would oppose the queen. Disobedience would not be tolerated.

  Chapter Ten

  Violet

  With my back pressed flat against the brick wall, I hid in the shadows outside the dorm. My heart thudded in my chest. The heavy metal doors flung open, and I held my breath as if it could help camouflage my form into part of the building. I knew better than that. Nothing could be done to mask my heartbeat.

  I’d never run from vampires before. But this was different. That vampire was different. I pictured his silhouette—big, dark, ominous. Yet his voice was sexy as hell, and stirred something deep within me. It was crazy—the kind of crazy I didn’t know how to deal with.

  A deep voice laughed, bellowing out into the darkness. I grabbed the throwing knives hidden in my jacket, unsure if I should run or stand my ground. The doors clicked shut behind them.

  “Did you see that?” A second voice asked, another male. “I’m gonna make history with those twins. Get my name on the wall.”

  It was just frat boys. Humans. I let out the breath that had caught in my throat, but remained still. The vampires remained inside.

  The event replayed in my head. I’d seen everything through the crack in the door—the chick on the floor, the idiot who’d driven me here without noticing, and the other. It was him that made me question myself, made me wonder what the hell I was doing here. It was him that scared me—not the violence, not the other two bloodsuckers that shared the room with him. It was the power that he held over the space around him, and the way his deep voice had sunk into me. I was afraid, awed, and left unsteady. It was difficult to describe, even to myself. It was a feeling, a swarm of butterflies, a twitchy nerve. I was drawn to him, and I didn’t even get a good look at him. I didn’t need to.

  The vamp in the long black coat and top hat, he was Dracula amongst cannon fodder. I’d never fought anyone that had made me so on edge, so nervous. I’d never felt this pull to anyone, especially not a vampire. He was different. I just knew it.

  I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened, or the strange feeling that swirled in my gut. I needed to focus, and get it together.

  Two things were off. One—tall, dark, and mysterious had killed the vamp that had fed on the blonde, but he didn’t drink from his heart. It was barbaric, but when one vamp killed another, they always did that. For a show of power or some weird tradition, or whatever the reason, they always did it. Not this guy. The one he killed had feared him, respected him. It was clear on his face. He didn’t even try to fight, just accepted his death from the powerful man in the top hat. I’d never seen an interaction like that between vampires before, no malice, no fighting. This guy was authority, in the best way.

  Two—he saved the girl. Well, he and his friend did. Was I just seeing what I wanted to see? Projecting something human on someone who was anything but? Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe he was there to kill the other guy, and she just happened to be there. Maybe it didn’t matter to tall, dark, and mysterious either way. But it seemed to. It was almost like he cared about her life, like it mattered to him. Why would it? They were all the same, all murderers, all ruled by their bloodlust. Still, it bothered me. I wanted it to be true, wanted him to have spared her—I wanted him to be different. I had to know the truth about him.

  The doors to the building flung open again. I heard the bang as the heavy metal hit brick. There was no way to see who it was until they walked down the steps.

  “Spread word far and wide.” His voice was deep, penetrating, and too sexy. I knew right away who that voice belonged to—tall, dark, and terrifying.

  Heat rose in my cheeks. My heart fluttered. Still. I had to stay still.

  “I get it,” said a second voice. I recognized that one too, the blond vamp from the car, the Kurt Cobain wannabe that hadn’t sensed me in his trunk. “Really. You have to make a point—stand firm. I get it, it’s just—”

  “Charles.”

  Charles? It seemed too formal a name for him. He seemed more like a Chuck.

  “Yeah, clean-up duty, then tell them all about what you did. Can do,” Charles said.

  “Good,” sexy voice replied.

  The doors to the building clicked shut, and the courtyard was left silent. I waited for the vampires to return to the junk car that was parked crookedly in the grass. Neither did. Had they returned inside?

  I took one careful step forward. Then another.

  My back slammed against the brick wall, my wrists pinned above my head. The air in my lungs came out in a rush as a shadow stood over me. Not a shadow—a monster that moved as darkness itself.

  I met his eyes, black as the night, and knew that this was him—the one with power, the one who didn’t kill the girl. A rush of heat came over me as I stared, captive in his gaze.

  He was handsome, in a dangerous way, a way that lured a sense of comfort and left his victims vulnerable. His features were sharp, hard, and masculine, his touch both cold and rough.

  I was at his mercy, unable to reach my blades, and somehow that felt right. Somehow I was both terrified and excited, not just from the danger that he posed, but from the allure of him.

  His body was close, too close, yet it was almost like no one was there at all. There was no one in front of me, my brain told me so, but I could feel the hard form of his chest against my breasts. I knew there was only darkness and a line of distant trees to see, as I watched his dark irises swirl with red.

  If I blinked, he could be gone. If I blinked, I could be dead.

  Part of me wanted to kiss him, bite his lip, crazy though I knew it was, and the other part, the smart part, wanted to stab the blood sucker in the chest. Before I could decide which I wanted more, he spoke. His voice was a ca
ress, carrying though me, his slight accent a promise of experience beyond my years—of pleasure and pain.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  I stared, affected in an unfamiliar way.

  “Why do you follow me?”

  To my surprise, I answered. “Violet,” I said. “My name is Violet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Walter

  Wavy red hair, deep yet unnaturally vibrant, hung over her shoulders. Bright blue eyes shone with a mix of emotion I couldn’t decipher. Her wrists were warm beneath my palms, her pulse quick. Her breath was mint and heat, pleasant on my face. She was strength and beauty, and yet she was clever enough to have stalked my progeny without his knowledge. And she—Violet—was human.

  “You followed Charles,” I said.

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “Why?”

  “You know,” she said, as a small smile crept across her lips, “I don’t think I’m going to tell you anything else.”

  Her defiance caught me off guard, as did the beauty of her smile. I could make her tell me. I could force her to bend to my will, glamour her into a mindless drone. But this was far more interesting.

  “Is that so?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it is,” she said.

  She kept her eyes locked on mine, even as my irises flooded with crimson, even as my fangs descended. There was fear, sure. I could hear it in her racing heart, see it in her short breaths. But emotion didn’t rule her. I liked that.

  “Curious,” I said.

  “Are you in charge here?” she asked. “I heard there was a queen.”

  Again, her words disarmed me.

  “Where did you hear that?” I asked.

  Her smile grew wider. She was reckless, without regard for her own safety. Surely this woman knew what kind of danger she was in. Between what she’d witnessed and what she’d say, she must have known both my nature and what that made her to me—prey.

  Stabbing pain coiled through my gut, radiating from the impact of her knee in my groin. My grip loosened involuntarily and my legs grew weak.

  Violet took the opportunity and made the most of it, ducking out beneath my arm. When I turned, she held three tiny blades between her knuckles. It wasn’t just stealth; she had skill in combat.

  I smiled. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed myself so thoroughly.

  Blades flew through the air. But she wasn’t fast enough. I moved behind her, and before her daggers hit the brick wall, I whispered in her ear.

  “Were you trained by a hunter?”

  “You mean there are others like me?” she asked, and turned on her heel. Was it sarcasm or sincerity? A question answered only with a question. She offered no information willingly, just as she had promised. Still I learned. A thick blade swung through the air as she aimed at the place my chest had been. Too slow.

  “Some work toward the extermination of my kind,” I said. “Brought into a life of pain and suffering following loss.”

  “You mean one of you kills one of us,” she said. “And the family doesn’t take it well.”

  “Sometimes,” I replied. “Is yours a story of loss?”

  She smiled and dove forward, blade first. I stepped away with ease. Each non-answer told me more. She hadn’t been trained by a hunter, though she was one herself. She didn’t mourn a loss, or come into this life as a birthright. So why?

  Violet kicked toward my ankle, but I was gone before she made contact. I slipped behind her and pulled her arms tight against her body, holding her still as I listened to the flutter of her heart. Her hair was soft as silk on my cheek, with the sweet, pleasant scent of spring blooms.

  “You’re her second,” Violet said. “You work for the queen, and somehow what happened in the basement is for her.”

  I froze.

  “Is that why they think she’s weak?” Violet asked, unfazed by my hold on her. I felt her body heat up with my proximity. Red tinted her cheeks, a lovely blush, but there was no fear in her eyes. She didn’t expect death. Or she didn’t care.

  “Where did you hear that?” I asked.

  She fit perfectly just like this, small and soft against my chest.

  “There’s a lot of action coming to Scarlet Harbor,” she said. “I didn’t want to miss out.”

  It must have been from other vampires that she’d learned the situation. In a sense, she knew more than I. She wasn’t from the city, but knew to be true exactly what I’d felt—trouble was coming.

  I listened to her pulse, and soaked in the warmth that she offered. Violet was no normal hunter. No typical human woman. She was much more than cunning prey. I felt more alive than I had in years.

  She smelled deliciously sweet, not just the perfumes in her hair, but the gentle, femininity beneath. I yearned for a taste. The tips of my fangs crossed her soft, fragile neck. Gooseflesh followed across her skin in my wake. I could take what I wanted. But somehow, it didn’t feel right. Not with her.

  I forced my fangs to retract, forced myself to let her go. I’d finally found the perfect catch, and I couldn’t let this be the end.

  So I whispered, “Catch me when you can, Violet.”

  And with that, I left.

  Chapter Twelve

  Violet

  I watched the blond vamp—Charles—load the dead guy into his trunk. Based on his lack of driving skill, and his disregard for typical vampire stealth, I’d expected a clumsy job with legs and arms awkwardly dangling from the compartment that couldn’t completely shut. To my surprise, the stuck-in-the-‘90s vamp loaded the corpse like a pro. Maybe that was his job—vampire clean-up crew.

  He moved quickly and efficiently, then climbed back into his car. I hid and watched, expecting the loud music to echo through the quiet courtyard, but it didn’t. Instead, Charles drove through the grass slowly, and parked like a regular person in the parking lot. Why hadn’t he left?

  From my place in the shadows, I waited and watched. It took a few minutes before the ambulance arrived, not much longer before the paramedics took the girl away. Only once she was in the ambulance did Charles turn on his music and drive away. Why did he care about her? Had the queen ordered them to make sure the girl was safe? It didn’t make sense. There was something different about Charles. Not just him.

  It didn't hit me until the leaves of the towering oak across the courtyard were touched by the first beams of morning sunlight. I was waiting. It wasn’t about the hunt. I wasn’t stalking some random bloodsucker, looking for the right moment to strike. As morning dew sparkled on the tips of red leaves, I realized I was waiting for him to come back—the man with the black coat, the one who was both there and not—a vampire.

  With the sunrise, there was nothing and no one left to wait for. Not here, not during the day. I put one foot in front of the other, moving on autopilot while thoughts of the night clouded my brain.

  Pinned to the brick wall, I’d been at his mercy. He was fast, a trick of the eye, a shadow. Why had he not tried to kill, or even glamour me? Sure, it wouldn’t have worked, but they always tried. Not him. He was different. He made me feel different, and I wasn’t sure that I liked that. It was like being disarmed, and left vulnerable.

  The feeling of his cool skin still lingered on my fingertips, the sharp points of his fangs against my neck. My cheeks heated, and a shiver traveled through me.

  I found myself standing across the busy street in front of my hotel, staring off into space. Had I really walked all this way from the university? I must have, but I couldn’t remember.

  The sun was warm on my face, the breeze cool. Orange and red leaves rustled in the trees that grew in the dirt squares spaced between slabs of concrete. Cabs flew by in both directions, honking horns and squealing brakes.

  When the light switched and the cars stopped, I crossed six lanes to the towering building up ahead. Five stories of ornate stone made up the base of the hotel. Arches adorned the first story windows, with thick white pillars flanking both sides of the four glas
s doors. Above was story after story of windows, tinted glass, and tiny balconies. I had no idea which small, glass rectangle on the grid of so many was mine.

  A woman in thick furs chatted on her cellphone beside the doorman while a tiny dog danced around her feet. A middle-aged man, with skin like cracked leather, pushed a metal food cart down the sidewalk at a running pace. The tuft of hair sticking out of the open buttons on his shirt was so thick, I was half-convinced he was hiding a kitten in there.

  The hot, yeasty scent of freshly baked bagels wafted through the cool breeze. The air was crisp, the city alive with noise—honking horns, conversations, engines rumbling, and feet moving.

  The doors opened, a man in a suit on each side. I left the noise of the city behind and crossed the threshold into the hotel lobby. The air inside was warm and dry, the open space quiet compared to the bustling street. I headed straight for the elevator, and ignored the stares of the staff by the desk, and those of the only other guest in sight. She gave me a wide berth as she passed heading the opposite direction. Fine by me.

  There was no wait for the elevator. One push of the little up arrow and the doors opened. I stepped inside, leaned back against the wall of the elevator, and watched the numbers rise. Fatigue washed over me as my limbs hung limp. Almost there. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteenth floor. The box dinged, and the doors opened.

  I had to find him again—tall, dark, and sexy. I told myself it was only to find out what was happening in Scarlet Harbor. It had nothing to do with the way his eyes burned deep into me, the way my skin felt warm beneath his touch even when he was cold. It wasn’t the excitement I’d felt as we fought, or the way his voice made my knees weak. No, but I would find him. After I had the chance to rest.

  Gravity pulled hard on my eyelids, on everything. The hall was quiet, and empty. I couldn’t get there fast enough. I walked down the hall and used my keycard at room 1803.