Blood Captive: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 2)

by Jessica Wayne

  I feel a finger run down my spine just below my hairline. I spin, lashing out with my bo staff. Elijah chuckles.

  “You have to be ready for anything, Hunter.”

  “You worried you can’t beat me if I can see you, Vampire?”

  “Not in the slightest.” He blips into view just ahead, so I race toward him. He stands firm, disappearing once again before I can reach him. “Use your other sense, Rainey. The power in your blood allows you to see past my glamour. All you have to do is access it.”

  Turning in a slow circle, I search for any blip of him—and mild distortion of the space. The lines of the water cooler are misshapen, blurred ever so slightly. Instead of letting him know that I am on to him, I keep moving around.

  My back turned to him, I take a deep breath and spin, racing toward him. The blur moves to the right, and I shift course at the last minute, slamming into Elijah. He drops his cloak and grins up at me the moment we come to a stop on the floor, me pinning him, my bo staff pressed against his throat.

  “What did you see?” he asks.

  “The air around you, it was blurry.”

  He grins. “I knew you could do it.”

  I drop my face so my mouth is only a breath away from his. “Did you just use the adult equivalent of an ‘I told you so’?”

  “I believe I did.”

  Tilting my head to the side and lowering down to his throat, I drag my teeth over his speeding pulse. “I’d say bite me, but you probably would.”

  When I pull back, his pupils are dilated as he stares up at me. “I most certainly would.”

  He bucks his hips, and I lean back, flipping off of him and rolling to my feet. “Again,” I say, taking my stance once more. “And this time, try harder.”

  6

  Heather

  Freedom is just within my grasp, so near I can practically taste it on my tongue. The more power I take in, the closer I get to being free of this prison cell.

  Free to walk the earth, carrying the force of my power within me once more.

  Free to take my vengeance and reshape a broken world.

  I imagine myself smiling as I stand in the center of my chaos.

  I can hear my footsteps as I ascend the steps to my throne.

  And my heart beats quicker now in anticipation, the heavy thumping like drums beneath an open sky.

  One of these days, my patience will be rewarded with a crown upon my head.

  They may not notice me yet, but soon, none will be able to look away. I will be the force they fear, the storm on the horizon.

  Yes, soon I will be free.

  And when I am, the blood of my enemies will rain down.

  7

  Elijah

  Body sore from the ass-kicking Rainey delivered last night, and the sex following, I make my way into Tarnley’s blood bar. It’s nearly empty, and I’m grateful for the reprieve, especially given my current status as a not-so-popular vampire amongst the supernaturals. The blocker will help keep them from finding me, but it won’t work if I’m spotted out and about.

  Still, I need the break. My research has gotten me absolutely nowhere, and I was about to lose my shit and just open the fucking box myself. Which, of course, I can’t do yet.

  Even if I don’t want her there, I promised Rainey I’d wait.

  Other than the bartender, Tarnley is the only one inside and is seated in his usual spot in the center of the bar, so I stroll over to my oldest friend and take the stool beside him. He glances over at me, his crimson gaze evidence of the human blood he survives on.

  He doesn’t kill though. Tarnley drinks what he needs and releases, something very few vampires actively practice these days.

  “Elijah,” he greets.

  “Tarnley.”

  I take a seat, and the bartender stops in front of me. Her bright purple hair is braided down her back. “What can I get for you?”

  “Whiskey,” I reply, and she disappears with a nod. “She’s new,” I comment.

  “Hired a few days ago.”

  “Witch?”

  He nods. “How was Salem?”

  “Interesting.”

  “Learn anything?”

  The bartender slides a whiskey over to me and disappears into the back room. “Sure, Rainey doesn’t much care for sharing a washroom.” Even if I trust him—and I do—sharing the truth behind what Rainey and I discovered could have dire consequences.

  And as much as it bothers me to lie—it’s necessary for now. Once I know exactly what we’re in for, I may loop him in. But not any sooner.

  Tarnley chuckles. “I’m surprised she didn’t take your head off. I’ve roomed with you before; you’re a bathroom hog.” Tarnley was in his twenties when I turned him over three hundred years before on one of my benders. He’s never had much difficulty getting women—human or supernatural alike—which made sharing a house with him rather awkward when morning—or in his case, evening—time came around.

  All that changed though when he met his mate, Allison. She’d been his other half, his best friend, and when she’d died, he’d never been the same.

  “I’m not that bad,” I defend. “I have manners.”

  “Sure, though they aren’t as good as they should be, given your Irish heritage. Aren’t you all supposed to be hospitable?”

  “You’re in a mood,” I poke back. This light conversation is unusual for my friend. Typically, getting him to talk anything but business is a massive headache. I wonder what’s changed.

  “Just enjoying myself,” he says and lifts his glass. The amber liquid inside is another change. Usually, Tarnley sips on blood.

  “Glad to see it.” I take a drink. “So, hear anything new about the bounty on my head?”

  “Still there, though they’ve shifted to trying to take out your hunter.”

  Clenching my jaw, I nod. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “They do seem to be rather distracted at the moment though.” A line forms between his brows.

  Tarnley has contacts on both the Immortal and Vampire Council. If he’s confused, it’s typically not a good thing. “Distracted? With what?”

  “I have no clue. But it’s damn big, and they’re keeping it close. Whatever it is, they’re running scared.”

  Could it be the box? “Well, here’s hoping they keep their bloody attention on something else and keep it off Rainey.”

  “Is that affection in your voice?” he asks me with a grin.

  “Possibly,” I admit.

  Tarnley stares at me as I take a drink of my whiskey. When I set the glass back down and glance over at him, he inhales, breathing deeply before his eyes widen. “Shit, you mated with her. I can smell it all over you. How the hell did I miss that?”

  “It just kind of happened,” I defend. “Back in Salem.”

  He continues to gape at me in complete surprise. “I need to meet this hunter. Someone who managed to capture and hold the attention of Elijah Hawthorne. Very intriguing indeed.”

  “Thought you hated hunters.” Tarnley’s mate was killed by a hunter. She’d lost herself to the bloodlust and was killing humans by the dozens. They found her before we could, and he’s never forgiven the supernatural enforcers.

  Vampires only mate once in our lives—the blood bond is just too damn strong, and I’ve never heard of it being broken even after death. Still, I often hope my friend will find someone who calls to him as Allison had all those years ago.

  I just wish he could find some damned happiness again.

  “I could learn to tolerate yours. If she manages to keep your ass in line.”

  I smile. “She definitely does that. There’s something else,” I add, and he glances over at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “I saw Aoife.”

  Tarnley’s dark brow arches, and he straightens in his seat, rotating to fully face me. “I’m sorry, you saw who?”

  “Aoife.”

  “As in the human woman whose death sent you into a tailspin that
led to me being turned?”

  I nod.

  “Where? How?”

  “She’s apparently fae now.”

  He gapes at me, total disbelief evident on his face. “Fae.”

  “She told me that she agreed to marry a fae in return for powers. He was apparently killed by a witch, and she was shunned because she wasn’t born one of the bastards.”

  “Well. That’s certainly interesting, to say the least. Where did you see her?”

  “Rainey called me and asked if I would accompany her to a bed and breakfast owned by the victim of a murder she’s currently investigating.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Wait a moment, so Rainey was there with you when you ran into Aoife?”

  I nod tightly. “She was. Front and center.”

  Tarnley looks like he’s only a moment away from losing his battle to contain the rest of his laughter at my predicament. “How did that go? Rainey kill her?”

  “No. Aoife told me that Rainey and I were fated to meet. That it was in the cards the entire fucking time and she had to stay away because of it.”

  “How’d Rainey take that?”

  “Okay. To be honest, she took it a hell of a lot better than I did.”

  “Interesting. You know, the more I hear about this hunter of yours, the more intrigued I am by her.”

  “She’s special; that’s for damn sure.” I take a drink and set my mug down, lifting my gaze to the door leading back into the kitchen. I’m about to look away when the bartender steps into view through the small window, her eyes swirling with power.

  Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, surges through my brain. Grasping both sides of my head, I growl as I attempt to shove her out of my mind.

  Unfortunately for me, I’m only half-witch and not capable of the type of magic she’s aiming at me. Something trickles out of my ears and down the sides of my face.

  “What is it?” Tarnley’s voice is nothing but a distant echo. Is this really it? Surely my fate is not to go out on the floor of the blood bar.

  “Elijah!” Tarnley bellows.

  I can’t speak, can’t explain because my head feels as though it’s going to explode right here in this fucking bar. Blood drips from my nose, the crimson beads falling to the bartop in front of me.

  My vision swims, and I sway, nearly falling off the damned stool. Placing both hands on the top, I manage to keep myself from falling over, but the force of grinding my teeth together is excruciating.

  Tarnley disappears and blurs back in front of me, the witch in his hands. A loud crack fills the room as her neck is snapped, making the pain disappear immediately. The force of the relief knocks me back onto my stool, and I slump, my head resting on the bar top.

  I hear her body thump moments before Tarnley is back at my side. “You okay?”

  “I’ve got the headache of a fucking lifetime,” I reply, my breathing ragged. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  “I have no damned clue. I vetted her myself.” His anger is apparent in his tone as he walks back around the bar. I smell the copper before he even sets the glass in front of me, but I don’t refuse.

  Instead, I take what he offers and drink deeply, letting the blood fuel my body’s healing abilities. Unfortunately, it’s venom on my tongue after having Rainey’s. Still, I force it down.

  “You going to survive?” Tarnley asks, and I set the now empty glass down on the counter.

  “I will, but I’d be better if I knew what the bloody hell that was for.” My first thought is that somehow, someone heard about my bond with Rainey. I know it’s only a matter of time, and when they do—I have no illusions about what it will mean.

  They will come for us.

  “Letting her live so you could question her didn’t seem like an option when it looked like you were going to die.”

  “No, I appreciate it.”

  He shrugs. That’s the thing with Tarnley; he acts the same whether he’s enjoying a drink or pulling my ass from the depths of hell—which he has, just as I’ve done for him. We’ve had each other’s backs for three hundred years, and I don’t think it will ever change. At least, not while we live.

  “Probably best if you stay out of sight for a while,” he tells me. “I’ll see what I can find out about her.”

  “Can you get me a name?”

  “Aria Anderson,” he replies.

  “Thanks.” I stand, pulling the phone from my pocket and tapping Rainey’s contact information. I relax, my body calming the moment I hear her familiar voice.

  “Hey, you. Miss me already?”

  “The second you walked out of the door.”

  Tarnley rolls his eyes and turns away to pour himself a fresh drink.

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  I hear a rattling that sounds suspiciously like her hand in a bag of Skittles, something I’ve heard more than a few times over the short amount of time I’ve known her. The woman practically lives on Skittles. “Can you look into Aria Anderson.”

  The rattling stops. “Any particular reason?” she asks, her voice now lowered.

  “She just tried to kill me.”

  I can feel her rage surging through me, the blood bond between us giving me the ability to sense what she’s feeling. “Where are you?”

  “Blood bar downtown. Probably best if you don’t come here though,” I say immediately.

  I can hear rustling and imagine her slipping into her jacket. “I’ll be back in a bit, Ramirez. You good?”

  “Yeah,” Ramirez says.

  “Elijah?”

  “Still here.”

  “Good. Text me an address. I promise not to kill anyone while I’m there. Unless the bitch is still alive. Then, you can’t hold me to it.”

  I meet Tarnley’s gaze. His jaw is tight, stance strained, but he nods. “I’ll send it over now.” After firing off a text message with the address, I turn to Tarnley and run a hand through my hair.

  “I guess I get to meet this hunter sooner than expected.”

  “Seems that way.” Taking a seat at the bar, I lean in. There’s no one else here, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t ears listening in. “I don’t have to tell you how important it is no one finds out about the bond.”

  “No, you don’t. I know what the council will do to you.”

  “I also need you to not mention it in front of Rainey.”

  Tarnley crosses his arms, eyebrow raised. “And why is that?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  He stares at me, shock and amusement clear as day on his face. “What the hell do you mean she doesn’t know? How did she miss that?”

  “As I said, it just sort of happened, and the last thing I want to do is scare her off.”

  “You’re hiding your mated bond from your mate? You do realize what will happen if she chooses not to accept you?”

  “I’m no eejit,” I snap. “I just want to give her more time.”

  He throws up both hands in mock surrender. We both know good and damn well this isn’t the last I’ll hear from him about my decision to not let Rainey know I’m bonded to her for life.

  “You do whatever it is you think is necessary, but I’ve seen more than one vampire lose their damn mind because their mate wanted nothing to do with them.”

  I know he’s not wrong. The risk is substantial, especially given whatever the hell happened to Rainey back in Salem.

  “She needs more time,” I insist. Rainey is not someone who trusts easily. She’s been burned one too many times for that, and since her entire family was wiped from the earth, there’s no way in hell she’ll give her heart over that easily.

  Not when it’s been broken so many times before.

  The loud rumble of her motorcycle in the distance has me swallowing hard and taking one last look at Tarnley.

  He shakes his head and shoves both hands into the pockets of his slacks. I know I can trust him to keep my secret, so I push that particu
lar concern to the back of my mind. I can feel her before she ever steps inside—the bond linking me to her is still weak but strong enough that I’m balling my own fists at my sides as a new wave of rage surges through me. Hers, not mine.

  Rainey shoves the door open and walks inside, looking every bit the badass hunter she is. She’s pulled her hair up on the top of her head, and I drink her in, the sight of her powerful body clad in tight clothes making me wish like hell she wasn’t here on business.

  And that we were alone.

  Tarnley clears his throat awkwardly, and I’m guessing it’s because he can sense what seeing her is doing to me.

  “You okay?” she asks, her gaze darting from me to Tarnley.

  “Fine. Tarnley, this is Rainey Astor. Rainey, my closest friend.”

  They nod at each other. “Where is she?” Rainey asks, and Tarnley clears his throat again.

  “Right back here.”

  I follow Rainey behind the bar. She kneels, glancing back up at Tarnley. “You snapped her neck?”

  “I did. She would have killed Elijah had I not.”

  I can sense his unease, see it in the defensive set of his shoulders as he stands just out of reach. He’s afraid of her.

  And I can’t blame him.

  “Thanks for doing that,” Rainey says as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a latex glove. After slipping it onto her hand, she digs into the woman’s pocket and pulls out a cell phone. She holds the screen up to Aria’s face for a brief moment before standing.

  “Looks like someone ordered her.” Rainey drops the phone on the counter in front of me, and both Tarnley and I lean down to read the last message she received.

  Stella: Kill him.

  “Stella,” I growl. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “You know her?” Rainey demands.

  “I do.”

  “I thought you and Stella were friendly?” Tarnley asks me, and I nod.

  “We were.” Until now, apparently. “I’ve known Stella for nearly a hundred years. I rescued her from a fire when she was young and sent her to live with another friend of mine—a local witch. Farah, actually,” I add for Rainey’s benefit.