Blood Lust (A Paranormal Romance: Preternaturals Book 1)

by Zoe Winters

  A chair creaked as one of the girls sat down. Where was Dayne in the middle of this sobfest? And why was there a human and another girl hanging out in the evil sorcerer’s lair, anyway? He took another whiff. A werecat? Why was a werecat making herself at home in Dayne’s cottage?

  “Can’t Anthony get her back?”

  More crying.

  “Cole won’t give her up without a fight, and Anthony can’t get into a war over a human. He’s having issues with a few members of the coven who don’t support him having a human mate to begin with. It’s my fault. If he wasn’t with me, he could get Jane back. He told me he thought she’s probably safer where she is. He’s just making excuses. I can’t believe I saved his life.”

  Cole’s furry eyebrow rose. Oh really? He hadn’t heard that part of the tale. Charlee had saved Anthony’s life? Seemed a lot of humans were saving him, and he was supposed to be the vampire king.

  “Anthony’s not that bad. Let’s not forget he helped save Greta.” Dayne. What the hell? Had Cole landed in an alternate dimension? Was he being Punk’d? He looked around for hidden cameras.

  “Yeah, and then the second he had my blood he went straight for Charlee. He could have killed her,” the werecat said.

  Okay, that was it; hearing and smelling wasn’t good enough. He had to risk a window seat. Cole slunk around the side of the house to the first available window.

  The crying redhead sat at a bar stool drinking something out of a mug, her unruly curls covering much of her face. Dayne stood behind the werecat with his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  “I mean, Jane and I weren’t best friends or anything. She’s a little hard to get to know. But still, I liked her . . . like her,” Charlee corrected. “You have to help me rescue her.”

  The dark-haired woman pulled out of Dayne’s embrace and rested a hand on the crying woman’s arm. “The wolves are like shadows. No one can follow them to their den; the trail just ends.”

  Charlee turned imploring eyes to Dayne. “What about a spell? You can track Jane with a spell. I’ve got stuff of hers.”

  “Perhaps,” he said, doubtfully.

  Cole was glad, not for the first time, that he’d thought to add a magical barrier of security. Some of the pack had argued hard with him ten years ago when he’d insisted on wards to protect the den, claiming it was too much work and expense, that no one could find the den with magic because no one would have any of their personal belongings.

  Even if the cave was camouflaged and locked up tighter than Fort Knox, it was an extra measure of protection knowing they couldn’t be tracked through a spell. Least of all through a spell from Wickham.

  Dayne looked right at him, and he moved away from the window. The sorcerer didn’t have fancy eyesight; there was no way he could have seen a solid black wolf outside at night. Still, he must have sensed the magic coming off him. Well, he’d been standing there for fifteen minutes or more. Plenty of time for Dayne to get a read on something fishy. The man didn’t have a reputation for nothing.

  Cole wanted to stay to find out more, but the risk was too high. He turned and ran, putting several miles between himself and the cottage before slowing his pace. When he got back to where he’d shifted, he dug in the earth to uncover his clothing, shook the dirt off, and changed back.

  Charlee clearly cared about Jane’s well-being, and Anthony didn’t seem bent on her destruction either. If he let her go, she might be safe. But he knew she’d never be safe as long as she was anywhere near the vampires. Even if Anthony was willing, he couldn’t constantly run interference for her. Cole could. What place could be safer than the hive?

  He dressed and pulled a talisman from his pocket. It was a shiny golden stone on top of a disk with runic markings. The stone could be turned like a crude combination lock. The disk had a hole in one end where a strap of leather went through it to make a necklace.

  Cole slipped it over his head and moved to a secluded spot. When he was sure he was alone, he turned the stone in the combination. A shimmery film appeared in front of him, like a small segment of the world had been wrapped in saran wrap. He stepped through the doorway, and the film dissolved behind him.

  The demon dimension was always a shock when he crossed into it. Not so much because it was flaming hellfire and such––it wasn’t––but because it was so normal.

  It felt like stepping into the past with cobblestone paths and street fair music playing in the distance. There was a market where giant colorful tents lined the streets. The sounds and smells of sex were strong in the air, and Cole growled.

  This was where the incubi and succubi lived. Male and female sex demons. They were similar to the vampires but could be corporeal or non-corporeal. Incubi often stole into women’s dreams or seduced them when awake to feed their insatiable hunger. When they weren’t feeding, and clearly often when they were, they hopped over to one of the demon dimensions.

  Cain was the head incubus, and this was his territory. He stepped out of a nearby tent, a big goofy grin on his face.

  “Cole! Buddy! You missed the action. I found the most delicious Georgia Peach.”

  Cole’s face turned stony. “And you killed her.”

  Cain smirked. “My territory, my rules. I let your pack use the dimensional portals. Besides, I’ve told you before . . . ”

  “I know, I know. Nobody really dies, they just come back in a new body. But I don’t see things that way. You’re separating people from those they love, causing heartache, making them start over when they could break the cycle and go someplace better.”

  “Heaven? Oh God, don’t start with that. Trust me, you don’t want to go there. It’s highly overrated as final destinations go.”

  Cole shrugged. He knew it was best not to get Cain out of a good mood, so he changed the subject. “How’s Luc?”

  “The house is standing empty at the moment, but as soon as there’s a buyer, I’ve found a way to free him. I just can’t tell him about it.”

  “Cain . . . ”

  “Look, it’s not your business. Luc has been trapped in that house for half a century now because he fell for his food. Stupid little witch. Never trust magic users. And . . . speaking of trust, you need to keep a better eye on your pack.”

  Cole arched a brow. “Oh?”

  “One of them was hunting in Golatha Falls. Hunting a human.”

  Cole growled. “Who?”

  “Now, now, that would be telling. You’re smart. Figure it out yourself. I rescued the woman before any damage was done.”

  “Was that the Georgia Peach you just killed?”

  “No, another one. I fed her to Luc. And he won’t kill his dinner. Don’t worry, I memory wiped her, and she’s safe in her little bed.”

  “I don’t get you.”

  “Not many do.”

  A cute blonde popped her head out of the tent giggling. “Cain, where did you go?”

  “I’ll be back in a minute, my love; go amuse yourself with something.”

  She shrugged and drifted down the street toward the marketplace, her eyes lighting as a street performer swallowed fire on a stick.

  “I thought you said you killed her.”

  “No, you said that. This one is mildly interesting. I might keep her a few days.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “Yes, I’m a demon. These humans all have a death wish anyway. Do you see how they live?”

  “Thank you for the information about my pack. I’m sure you’ve got a tab running for me. I’ve got to go hunt.”

  Cain’s chuckle trailed down the street behind him.

  Chapter Five

  Jane turned over in her sleep. Suddenly she was sixteen again with her first boyfriend. The name on his birth certificate was Richard, but everybody called him Rich. That is, until he and Jane started dating. Then everyone at school had started calling them Dick and Jane.

  She was standing on the second story balcony of the frat house when
she saw the monster. He looked like a demon from hell, all black and shiny with claws and fangs and glowing eyes. And he was staring right at her. A drunk and laughing frat boy stumbled into the monster then looked up at him.

  “Oh, excuse me, dude.” He was drunk enough to have lost his inhibitions and sense of self-preservation, but not yet drunk enough to be slurring his words.

  “Not a problem,” the monster said, his eyes still boring into Jane’s.

  A rush of memories, long buried and forgotten came back to her as the monster held her gaze. New York City. She was four and out with her parents after dark. Her mother had been anxious about having Jane out in the city at night, but her father had brushed off the concern.

  As they’d crossed the street to grab a taxi, Jane had seen him. She’d been haunted by nightmares of the monster for months, her parents not knowing what to do for her. This wasn’t normal, even for a child her age.

  They’d taken her to a specialist in California, and after a while she forgot what she’d seen. Now it was back, and Jane was struggling to breathe. Either it was real, or she was crazy and the delusions had returned.

  She watched as the demon floated up in the air and landed on the balcony beside her, graceful and silent.

  “There you are, my beautiful angel. I thought I’d lost you.” His voice was a rich baritone, a sound at once so pleasant to her ears and so horrible and terrifying.

  She backed away until she was inside the frat house, a wall meeting her back abruptly, stopping further retreat. He closed in on her, one hand pressed flat against the wall on either side of her face. Staring at him, she could just make out the faintest image of the man the others saw. He wasn’t just a monster. He was the monster. The same one she’d seen as a child.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Her voice came back to her then. “W-why?”

  “To kill you, of course. You can see me, but I can’t get into your head. My sire would love to put you in his collection. But too bad, I found you first. Do you know why you are like you are?”

  She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. The monster dragged a finger over her cheek. He was so cold. “One of your parents has had our blood and is running free. And when I find out which one, they’re dead.”

  “No, please.”

  The monster ignored her plea and continued on. “That blood now runs in your veins. You’re Kindred in a weak human shell. Do you really imagine we would let such an abomination live? Tell me, child, do you dream of us? Do you get the visions you’ve no right to?”

  She shook her head frantically. “No, I don’t know what you mean.”

  The door flew open, and a drunk Rich stumbled in. He looked up and pointed at the monster. “You tryin’ to hit on my girl?” He swaggered a bit, unsteady on his feet then pointed back at himself with bravado. “Cause, she’s my girl. We’ve been going steady for . . . ” He looked up at the ceiling trying to count, his facility with basic math suddenly lost to him. “ . . . for awhile now.” Then he turned to Jane, his eyes narrowing. “You ain’t cheating on me with this pretty boy, are you baby?”

  “Rich, get out of here!”

  His eyes narrowed as he approached them, the situation seeming to sober him up. He jabbed a finger into the monster’s chest. “You think just cause you’re older and better looking than me that you can come in here and take my girl?” He turned back to her. “Seriously, Jane. What do you see in this joker?”

  “Rich, go. Just go, please.”

  Her eyes widened in horror as the monster’s clawed hands came up and gave Rich’s head a firm, quick twist, and his lifeless body fell to the ground.

  “That’s better,” the monster said. “Now you . . . ”

  Jane wanted to scream, but no sound would come out. Even if her exit wasn’t blocked, she wasn’t sure if her legs would have obeyed her desire to run. This is a dream. It’s a dream. It has to be a dream. You’ll wake up. It’s a dream.

  The monster looked her over. “You, my dear, I’ll drink. You’re not nearly as annoying as the boy. And I’m sure you taste much sweeter.”

  As her head was forced to the side, she squeezed her eyes shut to avoid looking at her boyfriend on the ground. The monster’s fangs slid into her throat, and she was disgusted by how her body reacted to him. He chuckled against her skin. When he’d had his fill of her, he pulled away and licked the puncture marks.

  “Oh yes, you undeniably have our blood running in your veins. I can’t thrall you, and a normal human wouldn’t have been able to withstand the pain my bite delivers. You have a high pain threshold, don’t you, my dear?”

  She looked out the open doorway where the sounds of the college party still going on below drifted up to her ears. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d stayed with the others. She’d come upstairs to wait for Rich, so they’d have privacy to do what teenagers often did in strange homes away from their parents. If only she hadn’t come to the party.

  She shuddered as his mouth moved close to her ear. “What’s more, you liked that. I can smell your reaction. Perhaps I’ll keep you alive with me for awhile, and we’ll see what other talents develop over time. Shall we?”

  He held a clawed hand out to her, and she put her hand into his. What else could she do?

  “By the way, my name is Sedrick.”

  The dream sped up, moving to the one destination it always ended at. The one place she could never escape. The coffin was large enough for two, maybe three people, lined in red satin, and made of solid steel. Not a drop of light could get inside.

  “Don’t worry,” Sedrick said, “You’ll probably live until nightfall. I don’t use much oxygen when I sleep.”

  The coffin was on a timer set for sunset. He snapped a glowing wristwatch around her wrist. She’d begged him to do anything else. Tie her up in the bedroom, anything. But he said he needed her with him.

  Every time the coffin locked shut she thought she’d never survive it. Almost twelve hours of darkness most days inside that box. And the last hour, so hard to breathe, counting down the seconds, watching the glowing digital numbers tick down. Running out of air, past the panic point, banging on the door. What if it didn’t open in time?

  Jane woke screaming, tangled on the floor in the bedsheets where she’d struggled through her dream trying to escape Sedrick. She looked wildly around. It took her a few minutes to realize where she was, to know she wasn’t back in the coffin with the sadistic vampire. The cave was silent. Could the wolf have slept through that?

  She turned on the light, her hand still shaking from the nightmare, and made her way out into the main room. His pillow and blanket were in a pile on the floor beside the sofa. Growing more frantic, she searched the rest of the den.

  Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. “No, No, No, No.” She paced back and forth in front of the sealed steel door. “No!” She couldn’t get the thought out of her head that it was just another larger coffin. What if Cole never came back? What if he got hurt or killed? She could die in here.

  She pressed buttons on the security keypad.

  “Incorrect code.”

  She kept trying.

  “Incorrect code.”

  “Incorrect code.”

  The recorded voice sounded so smug. She started to bang on the door.

  “Let me out of here!” The room was growing smaller, shrinking until it felt no larger than the coffin, as the air got heavier. “Please! Please let me out!”

  ***

  Cole’s muzzle was wet from a fresh kill. He stood, running his tongue around the side of his mouth to get the last drops of life. He nosed at the bear’s mauled remains, deciding he was finished. All the good parts were gone.

  As he moved through the woods away from the carcass, his senses were swamped with the most heavenly smell. The most forbidden smell.

  Human blood.

  As a man he could have resisted, but as the wolf, the scent was too intoxicating. He salivated as he moved neare
r, then whined when he reached the source. There was a small pool of blood rapidly soaking into the ground.

  He dug into the dirt with his paws, pressing his nose against the scent, flicking his tongue out to get some of the precious liquid. But it was too late. He prowled around the spot, then finally growled and shifted back to his human form.

  He felt momentarily ashamed by how badly he’d wanted to lap up the leftovers from a human kill. Gaining control of himself, he knelt beside the blood-soaked earth, inhaled deeply, then got to his feet again.

  There was evidence of a struggle. Branches were bent. Piles of leaves were thrown about in haphazard fashion where feet had flailed and kicked. Furrows had been dug through the dirt by fingers clawing at the ground. He smelled blood on a nearby tree.

  He followed the fading trail of the human and wolf. The wolf had masked his scent, wearing a human-made pheromone marketed to attract the opposite sex. It was strong and musky to his nose, but to a human would have been barely discernible. It might aid in luring a human female from a place of safety into the woods. It also made it impossible to separate the scent of the wolf’s natural pheromones from the synthetic concoction.

  Cole followed the trail to the edge of the forest where the mingled scents ended. There were no broken branches or disturbed leaves. Up until the spot the human had died, there had been no struggle. It wasn’t a loss of control with a hapless camper. It had been premeditated.

  He returned to the kill site. The killer had done this before. Many times. It was too clean. A wolf taken by the wildness of the first human kill wouldn’t have had the cognitive ability to clean up the mess. He shook his head and went for his clothes. He hated when Cain was right.

  He was a quarter mile away from the den when he heard the screaming and pounding. He broke into a run, panic gripping his chest.

  Not Jane.

  His fingers flew over the security keypad to input the code, and when the door slid open he was ready to catch her as she pitched forward into his arms. He scented the air, his eyes wild, searching for the threat.