Chasing Shadows (The Initiative Book 1)

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Chasing Shadows (The Initiative Book 1) Page 1

by Kindra Sowder




  Chasing Shadows

  The Initiative Book One

  Kindra Sowder

  Published by

  Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly, LLC.

  Novi, Michigan 48374

  This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Chasing Shadows

  Copyright © 2016 by Kindra Sowder

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art & Formatting

  Pretty AF Designs

  Edited by: Elizabeth A. Lance

  EAL Editing Services

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  A Note From the Author

  Eshu, our Papa Legba figure within the pages of this book, is the creation of my amazing friend L. Bachman. Her Blasphemer Series is one of my favorites and being able to use Eshu in a cross-over for this novel is a dream come true. Thank you again for your willingness to allow me to place Eshu in the world I created here. I love you, and I know my readers will too.

  Chapter 1

  What really makes the world go round? Is it love? Is it money? This was always a question I usually asked myself, but one day, looking into the eyes of my vampire attacker, I realized what the answer was. Power.

  “Where is he, Van Helsing?” he asked while pinning me to the brick wall of the dark and filthy alley he had drug me into. It just made me happy I wasn’t pushed up against the dumpster at the end of it. I nearly gagged from the smell of death that surrounded him as he held me there, his light hair disheveled and greasy. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said he was a homeless man, especially with the start of dark stubble on his jaw and ratty clothes.

  I looked him defiantly in the eyes, making sure not to give anything away. It was a look I had perfected over the years since I started hunting at the young and tender age of sixteen. Now I was twenty-one and too old to be chasing shadows, but still doing just that.

  It was in my blood. I came from a long line of hunters. This vampire, in particular, was looking for my brother Jared. About two months back he had killed the leech’s mate while hunting. Now it was my turn to help my brother out of the grave he had dug for himself, which I minded. It was irresponsible to kill a vampire’s mate without killing him or her as well, and Jared knew that. We all knew that, and since they were causing trouble in the city, then he should have known to bring backup.

  As Van Helsing, we wrote the book on vampire execution, but we only looked for creatures that were causing problems, and the two my brother encountered two months ago, one being the feral creature in front of me, were stirring things up with a bloody massacre here and there.

  His red eyes searched mine, and in the tiny bit of light there was I could sense his hunger as his pearly white fangs sparkled. No doubt he was saving that desire for my brother. He was going to suck him dry, and it wouldn’t be enough to convert him, which would’ve been the maximum punishment for the murder of one’s mate. He wanted him to suffer, but not by living forever with the guilt. He wanted him to feel his life being drained away from him knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  The vampire punched me, the blow landing on my right temple, and stars leaped into my vision. They were gone as soon as he grabbed the collar of my jacket and jerked me up to keep me from falling and hit me again.

  “Where is he?” the vampire spat into my face, his rancid breath nearly causing me to retch.

  He knew I wouldn’t tell him, but I could tell what he was thinking. He was going to kill me to get to Jared. To bring him out of the shadows and into the spotlight, but that wasn’t an option.

  “Fuck you,” I said calmly, leaning closer to him so he could hear the blood moving under my skin enough to make him go for the strike. “If you think I’m going to rat out my brother you’ve got another thing coming.”

  His lips quivered in hunger and anger, which I had previously only seen when they were about to sink their fangs into something warm. I’d have more of a reason to kill him then. Not just the fact that he was going to kill my brother and fellow hunter, but because he was going to kill me for my unwillingness to help him. I wasn’t done helping the helpless, and wouldn’t be as long as people couldn’t take the initiative and do what I needed to. But, then again, people that liked taking care of the monsters causing trouble were usually like me, having some superhuman abilities. People like me needed an outlet and this was the only way to utilize our power. We couldn’t just not use the power that we possessed. It literally built up until it drove you insane and you ended up exploding and more than likely take out the whole population of the city you’re in while you’re at it.

  He eyed the vein that held the precious life elixir under my skin. I knew he could hear it moving underneath just like I could. It wouldn’t be but a few seconds before he couldn’t take the hunger any longer and went for the strike. Then I saw it in his eyes. Black started to leak out from the center of his eye where his pupil should have been. He leaned down and licked the exact place where the pulse always beat, that place right under your jaw where you could always feel the familiar rhythm of your blood flowing underneath your flesh. It was always there unless you were dead or undead as the case was sometimes. Unless you had fed that night which I could tell he hadn’t. From what I could tell, he hadn’t fed for at least two weeks. This was evident by the black tinge to his veins hinting at the fact that cold blood ran through them.

  He could’ve taken out some innocent person walking down the street, and they would’ve never seen it coming. My thoughts snapped back to the present as a sharp sting in my throat where my pulse beat penetrated my skin.

  I screamed as soon as I realized what was going on. The vampire had latched onto my neck and started sucking my blood like a new vampire would when it hadn’t yet found its control. This scar would be one of the many scars I had acquired since I started hunting, and I would earn many more as long as I continued to do so. I began to feel myself drift quickly, and I started to fight to stay alive. I knew I had to. Not just for me, but for my family. My brother would live on with the guilt that his decisions had been the cause of my death. That his unfinished business was the reason that I had to die. I didn’t want him to live with that feeling, and I didn’t want others to die because I did and I couldn’t protect them because of it.

  I raised my hand as slowly as possible and did what I knew could stop a feeding vampire. I pushed my thumb into the section of skin right above his throat, right below where I knew his tongue would be. It kept them from swallowing and sucking in more blood. He let go and grabbed my hand around the wrist and squeezed to try and get me to let go, but I held strong and fast. I wasn’t going to let go and let him have another try.

  “Go to Hell you fucking bloodsucker,” I hissed as I pushed even more into the sweet spot, causing him to gag in response.

  He let go within seconds once he realized there was no way he could hold on any longer, but refused to back away. I j
ammed my knee into his groin, causing him to stumble back a few steps and let go, which was just enough for me to kill him there in the alley and remain hidden in the shadows. Our existence wasn’t a secret, but I didn’t want my face ending up in the newspaper because I was the one to take down a dangerous vampire who had been terrorizing the city. I pulled a silver stake out from the pockets I had specially made to hold them inside my long, black coat, twirling it in my fingers for effect, and he pulled something out that I wasn’t expecting. The blade that he had somehow hidden well enough to avoid detection was one that I had not seen in years. It was special, and each and every hunter from our line feared it and for all the right reasons.

  It could kill us no matter where the blade touched us, and it could even slice through our bones. Hunters had bones made of steel. Well, not literally, but close enough. Our bones had some kind of element in them that made it so they wouldn’t break, or made it tough for some of the strongest creatures to break them. I didn’t know the specific name of said element. I had only broken my arm once, and it was the most painful thing I had ever felt in my whole life, and I wasn’t planning on doing it again.

  The vampire lashed out with his blade. I arched my back to avoid the strike, the blade swiping so close to my face that I felt the cold air of it whistling just past the tip of my nose. And here I was with only a silver stake to defend myself. I needed to have something commissioned that was more efficient. I stood upright and kicked out, the blow landing directly at his knee and causing him to fall to the other on the wet ground from the drainage pipe coming off of the building he had pinned me against. He cried out as a loud cracking sound echoed off the brick exterior of the buildings around us. I had broken the joint in his knee. I smiled, pleased with myself, but not shying away from the objective. Luckily, while I couldn’t hold it for long, I could snatch his blade just long enough to kill him, using its reach to my advantage. The stake was great, but not the best unless you wanted to stay close and that wasn’t what I had in mind when it came to this guy.

  I punched him in the face just hard enough to get him to drop the blade and caught it in mid-air, the metal of it already sending a searing pain through my flesh. I held back the scream of pain as I lashed out with it, feeling the blade cut through the bone in his right forearm, the severed hand falling to the ground and rolling just slightly. He screamed again, not even having enough time to cradle the stump to his chest to protect it before I lashed out with the blade again, slicing it through his neck and feeling the vertebrae crack and break with the impact. The line alone his throat seeped blood and then his head fell off, rolling along the ground as the sickly stench of his death reached my nostrils. It caused my stomach to turn, but I swallowed down the feeling. It formed a solid pit in my stomach that I chose to ignore.

  The burning in my hand was only growing so I dropped the blade to the ground and looked at the damage while using my other hand to cover my nose and mouth. The death of a vampire was never a beautiful sight. They bled like people, and they fell just the same, but that God awful smell of dead blood that instantly escaped their flesh when their blood did was stifling. The great thing about killing vampires was that there was never anything left behind. No body would be found. No nothing. The blade was another story, but a retrieval team would have to be sent for that. A vampire’s body quickly decomposed, not leaving a trace within ten to fifteen minutes. No, they did not turn to ash like everyone thought, and the books said. The supernatural world was entirely different than anyone thought before.

  “God, you nasty fuckers stink,” I choked as I walked away from the body, trying to get as far away from the corpse as I could without going too far.

  I’d have to call the retrieval team for the blade, and I was not allowed to leave it alone under any circumstances. Especially not with a body lying next to it. It didn’t matter how quickly they decomposed and returned to the earth. It was a rule. I pulled my cell phone out of the interior pocket of my jacket and dialed the number I needed. After two rings someone answered.

  “Van Helsing’s Exterminations, how can I help you?” came the nasally voice of Jane, the annoying receptionist that was the middle man between the ones I needed to speak to and me.

  I sighed in irritation. I hated dealing with Jane, but she was the only one there no doubt, and I needed the team out as quickly as they could get here.

  “Jane, it’s Izzy,” I sighed into the phone, wishing terribly that I didn’t have to deal with the awful woman. She hadn’t actually done anything to bother me. I wanted to say it was her voice that got to me.

  “Oh, h-Hi, Izzy. What can I do for you this fine evening?”

  “I need you to patch me to McGrady. I’ve got a job for him.”

  “Ooooh, what kind of job?” she squealed loudly into the phone, causing me to pull it away from my ear, at least, an inch or two, so she didn’t bust my eardrum.

  “Jane, stop being so damn annoying and patch me through. Does it really matter what kind of job I have for him? A job is a job. Now patch me in,” I said through gritted teeth. The line went silent for a few heartbeats, and I heard her take a shaky, deep breath in like she was about to start crying right there on the phone.

  “Yes, Isabelle, Give me a second.”

  And the line went silent, quickly followed by the jazzy, annoying hold music as Jane worked to send my call to McGrady. I also hated being called Isabelle and she would hear about it later. I didn’t even care if I made her cry. Calling me Isabelle was one line you didn’t cross. There was an audible click and then a sultry, Scottish voice came on the line.

  “McGrady, whit can Ah dae fur ye?”

  McGrady was the supervisor for the retrieval team, and he was damn good at it. He always came out to every call, no matter how big or small, and took care of it. It helped that he was sexy as Hell and that accent was enough to make me swoon, even over the phone. It also helped that I was sleeping with him. He reminded me of Gerard Butler, in a way.

  “McGrady, you sexy bastard, I’ve got a job for you,” I said, only half-teasing.

  “Izzy! Ye sultry minx. Sae glad to hear yer voice again.”

  “Now, now, you’re just trying to butter me up so you can get laid.”

  “Cannae blam a bloke fur tryin’,” he said with a chuckle. The laugh was contagious, and I giggled like a schoolgirl whose crush had passed her a note in class. “Yoo’ve got tae tak’ it easy oan Jane. Yoo’re gonnae gie ‘at poor hen a heart attack.”

  “Please, no lectures tonight, McGrady. I’ve got something out here ready and waiting for you,” I explained.

  “In ‘at case I’ll be thur in a flash,” he said with an erotic tone to his voice. “Whur ur ye?”

  I rolled my eyes toward the sky and sighed longingly, feeling that sweet heat lick up my belly. “The offer sure is tempting, but I’ve got a Sanguinarian Blade that has your name on it. And I need your healing touch. Those things burn like a bitch.”

  “Mah healin’ tooch. Is ‘at whit we’re callin’ it noo?” he joked. “An’ why th’ Hell did ye tooch th’ damn thin’?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice. It was that tiny silver stake or that damned blade. I chose the better option.”

  “An’ Ah bit yer hand is on fire, isn’ it?” He snickered on the other line and then his tone turned serious. Now that he mentioned it, my skin was still ablaze, and I was waving it through the air trying to cool it down and hadn’t realized it. “Ah keep tellin’ ye ta git a custom piece, lil.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll definitely be doing that now. You going to come get the thing or not?” I was getting antsy standing out here in the open; I felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop even though there was no other shoe.

  “I’ll assemble a team an’ we’ll be thur in fifteen minutes. Keep an eye on it, will ye?”

  “Well, it did tell me it had plan
s to go bar hopping so you may want to make it snappy.”

  “Smart arse. We’re on our way, loove. We’ll find ye wit th’ tracker in yer phone. See ye in a bit.”

  With those words, the line went silent, and then the screeching sound of the dial tone was blaring in my ear.

  “That Scot’s one smooth talker,” I breathed.

  I swiped my thumb on the tiny red phone to hang up and placed it back in my pocket, sticking my hands in them too and trying not to look suspicious. No, there’s no dead body back there. I could just see it in my mind now. It wasn’t like this was my first time babysitting a Sanguinarian Blade in the middle of New Orleans at night, but it was my first time touching one, and it was taking all I had not to cry like a baby. The palm of my hand was literally on fire, and McGrady was one of the few around that knew how to take care of it.

  As promised, they arrived in fifteen minutes, pulling up in a completely blacked out 2016 Jeep Grand Cherokee. Since we were technically government officials, we were well funded, but I hated all the extra bells and whistles. Jared loved them, and he used all of the latest advances often. The most advanced piece of equipment I had was my cell phone, and I hadn’t wanted to give up my flip phone. I resisted as best as I could, but they made the smartphones mandatory so there was nothing I could do but give in. McGrady got out of the beast of a car and found me instantly, shutting the door and practically running to where I stood. He was decked out in all the protective gear needed to handle a Sanguinarian Blade as carefully as possible, including specialized gloves that protected from the harsh magical properties of the blade. As were the other three that came with him, who I had never seen before. He was in front of me with my right hand out, palm up and inspecting it before I even had a chance to blink.

 

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