Blood Curse (Blood Immortal Book 3)

by Ava Benton

  “I won’t. I promise.” I watched her walk away, not turning back to trace my steps until she disappeared.

  It was getting darker by the minute—maybe Gwyneth meeting me halfway wasn’t so bad, after all. I would never have made it there and back before darkness permeated every inch of the woods and made traveling alone a bad idea. It already seemed like one of my less intelligent ideas and the sun hadn’t set yet.

  I found the twin boulders and the path leading to the cabin just as darkness fell. What was it about darkness that filled everything with a sense of danger or foreboding? Nothing existed in the darkness that wasn’t there in the light—a lesson every child heard from their parents time and again, and I hadn’t been a child for many years. If I were human, I would look as old and decrepit as any woman in her nineties, instead of looking as smooth-skinned as a twenty-five-year-old. I had long since passed a fear of the dark, but darkness in the woods was another story.

  Footsteps again, closing in behind me. I sighed in exasperation before turning around. “Damn it, Gwyn! I told you to go back!”

  It wasn’t my sister.

  It wasn’t anything I could reason with.

  The bear stood on its hind legs, looking down at me with beady brown eyes. It was hungry. I heard the way it sniffed the air, smelling me, its appetite whetted.

  Everything I’d ever heard about fending off a bear ran through my head at once even as my inner voice screamed at me to use my magic. Magic sounded like a good idea, too.

  I threw out my arm, ready to hit the animal with a stun spell and take off running, but I was too slow.

  A flash of claws, then one massive paw hit the side of my head and sent me sprawling in the dirt.

  I scrambled on hands and knees, crying out in pain and fear, trying to get to my feet. Except my legs were made of rubber, and I couldn’t get them under me—they kept going out no matter how hard I tried.

  The bear growled and fell on all fours, sniffing my back, my hair.

  A roar filled my ears, my head, and I closed my eyes as I got ready for the end.

  It was all over.

  Only nothing happened.

  Not even the pain of the bear’s claws tearing at my flesh or his paws breaking my bones.

  I heard a fight behind me—growling and snarling and heavy thuds as bodies collided. I took a chance and rolled onto my back to see.

  The bear was fighting… Alexander.

  Even through the haze of pain in my head and the darkness that soaked into everything, I knew it was him.

  He held onto the bear with all his might, ripping and shredding, jaws snapping. He threw the beast to the ground and leapt on it, but the bear wasn’t finished yet.

  It wanted to hold onto its life, and the way it threw Alexander off it proved that.

  Alexander slid along the trail, kicking up a cloud of dirt and gravel, but instantly bounced back up and threw himself at the bear again.

  This time, he managed to sink his fangs into its throat.

  The beast’s ear-splitting roar tore through the night air and made me shiver, but Alexander didn’t let go until he had a good grip.

  And then, with one sharp snap of his head, he ripped out a chunk of flesh and spat it to the ground.

  A fountain of blood shot out, soaking everything including the bear’s fur and Alexander’s clothes.

  And still, Alexander held on until the animal hit the ground and went still, its groans of pain and confusion eventually quieting into nothing.

  He stood above the body, claws still extended, shoulders heaving up and down as he breathed. When he turned to me, the blood lust was clear in his eyes. I was too weak and woozy to scramble away from that look.

  “Are you all right?” he snarled, coming closer.

  I nodded.

  It was all I could do before everything grayed out and my eyes closed.

  The last thing I registered was the feeling of his arms catching me before I lost consciousness.

  9

  Alexander

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?” I paced back and forth behind them, watching over Claudia’s shoulder as she cleaned the wound on the side of Daniela’s head.

  “I’m doing everything I can at the moment,” she assured me as she wrung out the cloth and wiped away the dirt and blood. “The bear’s paw didn’t do this. She must have hit the ground hard when she fell.”

  “Regardless, should we let her stay unconscious? What if she has a serious injury?”

  “I don’t think it’s very serious. The shock and surprise of watching you take the bear down, combined with the stun from the fall, is probably what made her lose consciousness. I’m sure it wasn’t a pretty sight,” she added, looking over her shoulder.

  “It wasn’t.” I still wore the animal’s blood all over my clothing.

  “You should go down to the stream to rinse off,” she advised.

  “No. Not until she wakes up.”

  So vulnerable. Why did she have to be so vulnerable? Not to mention stupid. She should’ve used her magic instead of letting the damned bear hurt her the way it did.

  What was the point of having powers if they weren’t used? I would ask her when she regained consciousness. It would take all my control to keep from yelling at her.

  “She’ll be all right. I’m sure of it. Her breathing is steady, her color is good. Once the shock wears off and she rests a while, she’ll come back to you.”

  “To me?”

  “My mistake. To us.”

  I felt her meaning, and it didn’t please me. “Don’t jump to conclusions, please. Just because you’re in love doesn’t mean everybody around you has to be entangled.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She brushed wet hair back from Daniela’s face and clicked her tongue. “So young. It’s a shame to waste so much of her life as a Tracker.”

  “You think it’s a waste?” I watched the light from the magic-infused fire Claudia had built play along the contours of Daniela’s face. Why wasn’t she waking up? “Maybe she needs to be warmer,” I suggested.

  “She’ll be all right. I know the fire won’t burn her, but I don’t think moving closer will make a difference.” She was gentle as she lowered Daniela’s head onto the folded blanket we were using as a pillow. At least Claudia had carried a few worthwhile items in her bag. “And yes, I think it’s a waste of life. Always looking for Nightwardens, hunting them down, feeling like she has to be on the move or else not fulfill her duties. It can’t be a very full life, or a very happy one.”

  “We don’t all require happiness—or expect it,” I reminded her. “Happiness is a modern construct, created to make humans feel as though they’re missing something.”

  She snorted. “You have no idea how close you are to the truth. That’s the case more than ever. If you’re not happy, simply buy something to make yourself happier.”

  “If she was raised in the old traditions, believing blood oaths and such are real and should be honored, I’m sure she doesn’t care one way or another about happiness.”

  If anything, it made me respect Daniela. She had a purpose, and she did what needed to be done to fulfill that purpose. It was only unfortunate that her purpose was to track me.

  “That could be.” She sat back on her heels, washing out the cloth she’d used to clean Daniela’s head. Without the blood and matted dirt, the wound didn’t look as threatening. “Even so, I’ve known happiness. Whether or not you believe it was real is up to you. It was real for me. I felt it. And I realized what I’d been missing all along.”

  She sounded so certain, and I sensed that she felt certain. It was almost enough to make me believe her.

  I wanted to ask what the point of finding a moment’s happiness was when it all went away. Maybe Claudia wouldn’t have been so miserable and half-crazed if she had never found out what she missed before she fell in love.

  The pain of losing love had to be worse than the pain of never having found it.

&nbs
p; Daniela stirred.

  I held my breath.

  Her eyes fluttered open, then went wide.

  “Shh. Shh. It’s all right. You’re safe now.” Claudia crooned to her like she was singing a lullaby and stroked her hair, her face.

  Daniela looked up at her, then at me.

  I was painfully aware of my blood-soaked clothes and wished I had taken the advice to clean up.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “Of course.” I couldn’t believe she would ask.

  She had seen me take the thing down. It hadn’t even been much of a challenge.

  “I honestly thought you were dead,” she admitted with a shaky smile. “But not for very long. You held your own.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  “I should’ve attacked it before it hurt me,” she frowned.

  “You froze, I’m sure. I’ve been in that position before, but not with a bear. A wolf tried to pounce on me one night, and I caught it with my magic while it was in mid-air, ready to rip me to pieces.” Claudia shivered at the memory, and I caught a vague taste of fear as she played over the scene in her head.

  “But you defended yourself. I didn’t.” She turned her face away, looking out the window into the blank, black night.

  “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

  “I hope…” She trailed off, then whispered, “No. I would feel it if anything happened to her.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “My sister. She’s out there somewhere, her and the rest of my team. I can’t help but worry about her now.”

  “You would feel it?” Claudia asked.

  It wasn’t my imagination. Daniela’s cheeks flushed. “In a way. It’s one of my abilities. It makes me a good Tracker.”

  “I see. I’ve heard of witches who’ve possessed second sight, but I never met one before now.”

  Daniela chuckled. “I don’t think it’s second sight. I only… feel things. That’s all.”

  I wanted to ask why she couldn’t feel that bear before it closed in on her, or why she couldn’t feel that wandering around by herself at night was a poor idea.

  I didn’t, and I understood why.

  I was too glad that she had woken up.

  10

  Alexander

  It was barely sunrise, and the fire still burned as brightly as it had when Claudia first built it.

  I supposed witches had their good points as I warmed my hands near the flames and marveled at the way the fire warmed, but didn’t burn.

  “Good morning.” Daniela sat up with a soft groan, stretching slowly. Gingerly.

  The bruise on the side of her head looked worse than it had the night before, and she touched her fingertips to it.

  Her wince made me wince in return.

  “I haven’t felt pain in a long time, but you’re reminding me of what it was like,” I murmured, hoping to avoid waking Claudia.

  She slept curled in a ball, her face to the wall. Like an animal protecting itself from the rest of the world.

  “I’d give just about anything to avoid this pain,” she whispered with a rueful smile.

  “Be careful what you wish for.” My shirt was nearly dry, hanging from the window frame.

  It suddenly seemed very important that I put it on.

  Her eyes followed me across the room.

  “I never thanked you for last night. I didn’t realize that until I was almost asleep again.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.” I turned my back to her as I pulled the shirt over my head.

  “If you had let the bear kill me, you wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. You could go on with Claudia and have your little adventure.”

  “Hmm. I didn’t think about that at the time. Now you have me wishing I had thought first and acted second.”

  “Ha, ha.” She groaned, and I turned in time to see her getting to her feet.

  Instinctively I reached for her, but held myself back.

  She was perfectly capable of standing up, even if it hurt.

  “Sore?” I asked.

  “Very. I really did a number on myself out there, when I fell.” She looked down at the makeshift bed. “That didn’t help, either. I’ve slept more comfortably.”

  “Things should be better tonight.” She had already announced her plan to find someplace for us to shelter. It sounded better to me than listening for noises in the woods until dawn.

  Every snap of a twig or flutter of a dead leaf had set my nerves on edge.

  “Speaking of which,” she said, looking down at Claudia, “we should get moving soon. I could use something to eat, and I know I’ll feel better after a hot shower.”

  She woke her while I packed the few supplies strewn around the cabin.

  Though I never cared much for comfort, I wouldn’t mind spending the night somewhere with solid walls.

  Claudia sat up and rubbed her eyes. “We’re leaving?” she asked with a bright smile.

  I wanted to remind her that we were only moving on, not moving on to where Ralf was.

  “Yes, and not a minute too soon,” I grumbled.

  “Do you ever do anything but complain?” Daniela sighed as she slung her pack over one shoulder.

  “Sometimes I tear the throats out of bears and other dangerous animals,” I muttered, glaring.

  She looked away.

  I almost wished I could take it back. I hadn’t protected her to hold it over her head, even though she seemed less bent on treating me like a mindless creature since I’d saved her life.

  I noticed Claudia watching us and wished she wouldn’t. She made me feel like a zoo animal, there for her amusement.

  “How far is the nearest motel?” Daniela asked Claudia. “Do you know?”

  “I don’t. I’m completely turned around. I’m sure if we stick to the main road, we’ll find one soon enough.”

  “Just what I had in mind for my day. More hiking.” It would’ve been much easier if I could just use my speed to get there.

  I didn’t grow tired the way they did, but I certainly grew bored. I had already spent the night sitting up with nothing to do. The idea of walking for hours didn’t appeal.

  “Keep your complaints to yourself, please. Neither you nor I want to be traveling with each other, but you don’t have to make it more difficult.” Daniela flung the door open and took a step outside, then froze in place.

  It didn’t take long to see why.

  The bear was still out there, lying on the trail in plain view.

  She started to tremble.

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s dead. It can’t hurt you now.”

  “I know. I just…” She turned her face away from it, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I was sure I was dead. It was over. I mean, I saw it in my head. I was ready to go—well, not ready. But you know what I mean. I accepted it and closed my eyes, and…” She lowered her head, and a tear dripped onto the ground.

  “You didn’t die. You lived. You’re alive now, and you will be so long as I’m here.” I squeezed her shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting way. “And I shouldn’t have brought up last night. That was wrong. I won’t do it again.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  I felt her shoulder move back under my hand and settle into place. She was steadying herself.

  Something about that touched something in me that had been dead for a long time. “All right. Let’s get started.”

  11

  Daniela

  “You’re telling me there’s a box which projects anything a person could want to see? News events, entertainment, anything?”

  “Even things nobody wants to see,” Claudia chuckled. “I must admit, it’s easy for me to live without it when I don’t have it at my disposal, but when I do? I waste far too much time watching.”

  “Wouldn’t it get tedious after a while?”

  “It does,” I called over my shoulder. “But there’s always something else to wat
ch.”

  “Fascinating,” Alexander muttered to himself.

  I stifled a laugh. He would only think I was making fun of him if I laughed out loud.

  “I’m sure there will be one at the motel,” I offered.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “There is no such thing as not having a TV.” I smiled. “You’ll have something to keep you occupied overnight, at least. I’m sure watching us sleep wasn’t exactly fascinating.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it was.”

  Why did I shiver a little when he talked that way? I had to look away from him before he noticed the effect on me.

  Just because he killed a damned bear before it could kill me didn’t make him a prince. It didn’t even make him human. Or worth respecting. He had done what his instincts required of him, nothing more.

  I couldn’t give him my attention. It would only make killing him that much more difficult, and there was no question about whether I had to do that. It was a fact. I was duty-bound to end his suffering.

  At least he would get to watch television before he died for good.

  I smiled a little to myself when I remember how shocked he was at the idea, just like everything we’d told him about up to that point had shocked him. He had to be warned, or else anyone who saw him marveling at the sight of a car or pickup truck, a neon sign or a jukebox, would know there was something “off” about him.

  “And women wear clothing like yours now?” he asked.

  I had to laugh out loud. I couldn’t help it. “Yes, they do. And much more—or less.”

  “Interesting.” He kept his thoughts on that point to himself.

  Yet another thing to hope he didn’t ogle over. All we needed was for a girl to take offense—and think her boyfriend would stand a chance if he challenged Alexander to a fight.

  The sound of traffic grew steadily louder the longer we walked, and I was almost weak with hunger by the time I caught sight of a parking lot beyond a line of trees. Knowing we were so close to civilization planted a pit of anxiety in my stomach.