Blood Cursed: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Rebels Book 4)

by Sarah Piper

  Blood Cursed

  Copyright © 2018 by Sarah Piper

  SarahPiperBooks.com

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotations used for promotional or review purposes, no part of this book may be recorded, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  v1

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Origins of The Witch’s Rebels

  About Sarah Piper

  One

  Ronan

  The instant we stepped into the hell portal, I knew I’d lost her.

  I was still holding her tight against my chest, but it wasn’t her body that’d left us. I’d fucking felt it—the departure of her soul. The entirety of the woman I loved violently wrenched away as we’d tried to rescue her from the disaster blackening the skies in the Shadowrealm.

  One horror after another, and yet for Gray Desario, they just kept on coming.

  After what felt like a hundred years, the portal puked us out into the underground chamber beneath the Vegas desert—same spot where Darius and I had first entered. I hit the ground hard on my back, cushioning the blow for Gray.

  I grunted at the impact, pain exploding along every bone-tired inch of my spine. She didn’t make a sound, though.

  Blinking the stars from my eyes, I laid her on the ground and checked her over, feeling her head, her limbs, anywhere that might’ve been hurt. She seemed okay—warm and still breathing, heart still beating, blood still pumping through her veins, blue beneath the near-translucent skin at her wrists. But her eyes were—

  Wait. Blood…

  The thought tugged hard, yanking my attention away from Gray for a split second. Just long enough for me to recognize the wet, strangled gasps emanating from the other side of the chamber, shrouded in darkness. I sucked in a deep breath. The acrid tang of copper scented the air.

  Fucking hell. Gray and I had not been the first out of the portal.

  He’d beat us here.

  “Beaumont?” I called, rising to my feet and creeping closer to the darkness. The shapes before me emerged slowly, revealing the gruesome scene one sliver at a time. A pair of shiny black shoes came first, attached to legs that jerked and spasmed. Clenched fists, split knuckles and pale skin turning white. A chest blackened and wet with blood. A face twisted in shocked horror—a face that had once belonged to the demon thug that’d escorted us here earlier.

  And then, almost unrecognizable in his violent, blood-splattered stupor, our vampire came into view, looming over the body and siphoning its blood like a starved newborn.

  I stood immobilized, watching with a mix of fear and fascination as this primal beast devoured his prey. All traces of the cool, composed man I’d known and cared for had vanished, leaving in his place nothing but sharp fangs and a deep, desperate need.

  It was too late to backtrack, too late to grab Gray and make a run for it. He’d already noticed my presence—I could see it in the twitch of his head, the brief but detectable pause in his wet, incessant slurping.

  My eyes darted around for another exit, a weapon, a miracle, anything, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could’ve used to our advantage. Even the darkness worked against me, given vampires’ superior sight.

  As if he could read my mind, the bloodsucker formerly known as Darius flicked his cold gaze up at me, not bothering to detach his mouth from the victim’s throat. In his eyes I caught a glimpse of something so horrid, so animal, it would probably give me nightmares for the rest of my long damn life—assuming I made it out of here alive.

  His message was clear:

  Move an inch, and I’ll devour you next.

  I had no choice but to let him finish, and hope to fucking hell the demon guard was enough to sate him. Because if Darius came at me in his current primal, blood-drunk state, I wasn’t sure I had the strength—or the heart—to fight him off. Not with Gray lying behind me, soulless and unconscious. And if I died, she’d be next—slaughtered by the very hand of the vamp she loved. The vamp I was pretty sure loved her, too.

  When he finally finished his meal, he tossed aside the body like an empty sack and rose to his full height, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “That gentlemen tasted like shite,” he announced.

  “That’s because he’s a demon,” I said firmly. The skin on my arm burned at the spot where I’d allowed Darius to feed after he’d turned up wasted and half-dead at Elena’s house. “Vampires despise the taste of demon blood.”

  Darius took a step closer, stumbling a bit, then catching himself.

  “And who might you be?” he asked, his words slurring together. His eyes were glassy and dark, his lips and chin shiny with smeared blood.

  Drunk, lost, and feral. Seeing him like that… It nearly broke me. The beast wobbling before me was so far removed from the Darius I’d known that my brain kept rejecting the images, desperate to convince me that it wasn’t real. That we were all trapped together in some heinous nightmare, or imprisoned by another cruel trick of the Shadowrealm.

  But deep down I knew the cold, hard truth. We weren’t lucky enough to wake up from this. It was real. It was now. And unless I figured out a way out of here, it was going to get us all killed.

  I swallowed the tight knot in my throat, forcing out my response.

  “Me? Just another shite-tasting demon,” I said, but it seemed I’d already lost his attention. Darius’s eyes wandered past me, an unnatural grin stretching across his face.

  I didn’t have to turn around to know exactly where his gaze had landed.

  Fear soured my gut, spiking my blood with adrenaline.

  “She’s spent,” I hedged, stepping in front of his path as he stalked closer to Gray’s form. “Not worth your effort—trust me.”

  Ignoring this, he sidestepped me, a blur of color that vanished before my eyes, then reappeared right next to her. He knelt down and touched her face, fingering a lock of her hair, then pressing it to his lips to inhale her scent. A low rumble of desire reverberated in his chest.

  But unlike the kind of desire I’d
witnessed the night we’d shared her in bed, bringing her to the edge of ecstasy in a tangle of hot limbs and endless kisses, this was different. Dangerous. This desire meant to devour her, drain her of all that remained.

  Every hair on my body stood at attention, my muscles tensing for a fight. But I couldn’t make a move in here. Not without risking his ire. Risking her life.

  Best I could hope for was a distraction.

  “We need to get out of here,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm and steady. “You killed one of hell’s soldiers. More will come. Let’s go.”

  “Without this lovely creature?” He stroked her face.

  It was all I could do to keep my heart rate in check. “Dead weight. She’ll only slow us down.”

  “I could lighten the load a bit.” He leaned in close and brushed his nose along her neck, his eyes so dark they were nearly black now. I felt my own shift into blackness as my demon instincts took over. “Maybe I’ll just take a little off the top.”

  A glint of fang, and I was on him, barreling into him with enough force to knock him halfway across the room. I’d caught him by surprise, and now I used up the very last millisecond of my advantage by slamming a fist into his face.

  The force of the blow dislocated his jaw, splitting the skin over my knuckles wide open. I waited for him to retaliate, but Darius merely smiled, licking my blood from his lips as his jaw snapped back into place.

  “You’re right,” he said smoothly, malice soaking his voice as we rose from the ground. He’d lost some of his slur, and now he towered over me, menacing and cold. “You taste like shite.”

  “Told you.”

  The two of us circled each other like wild cats fighting over a wildebeest. He was clearly toying with me, and I was still holding back. I didn’t want to hurt him any more than I had to, though I suspected he had no such hangups about my safety.

  “So there’s no reason for me to let you live,” he said. “Unless you can think of one?”

  “We’re brothers, asshole. Let’s start with that.”

  Darius laughed, hollow and chilling. “A vampire and a demon? Mom and Dad must be so proud.”

  “Genetics has nothing to do with it.”

  He zipped behind me, a blur in the darkness. When he spoke again, his breath was icy at the back of my neck.

  “Try again,” he whispered.

  I dropped into a crouch and kicked backward, hitting air.

  “Is that the best you can do?” he asked, already in front of me again. Taunting. Tormenting.

  “Stand still and find out.” I charged, but he went blurry on me again. Every time I blinked, he vanished, then reappeared behind me. Next to me. Across the room. Again. And again. And again.

  Demonic strength could do a lot of damage, but vampires were still stronger. Faster. I was outmatched, and he was enjoying the game, batting me around like a cat with a caught mouse.

  Then came the cruel grin.

  A chill raced down my spine.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” I said, holding out a hand as if that alone could stop him, “don’t—”

  The plea died on my lips.

  He came at me full on, and his attack was torrential, like a thousand powerful fists battering my jaw, my gut, my ribs, my kidneys, everything at once. My ears rang, my mouth full of blood, the blows coming so fast my bones hadn’t even had time to crack yet.

  They would, though. That much was certain.

  A human would’ve died five times over, but I was still on my feet, my body desperately trying to heal itself. I was still swinging, still clawing and scratching, still hoping for that miracle, even as the adrenaline started to fade.

  “Done yet, hellspawn?” he taunted, landing another solid punch to the gut.

  I gritted my teeth against a wave of excruciating pain, my entire body throbbing, bruising, bleeding, everything at once. My vision swam.

  Blackness crept in around the edges, whispering promises of sweet relief as Darius continued to unleash his fury. But I couldn’t give in, couldn’t slide into the bliss of unconsciousness. Not like this.

  As fucked up as this was, I hurt for him almost as much as I hurt for myself. There was a chance, however minute, that he would remember me. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe not in a year, but one day might come when his memories rushed back like a river breaking down the dam. He’d remember our friendship. And then he’d remember this moment.

  And it would eat through his bones like acid. All the gut-punches in the world wouldn’t come close to the pain he’d feel on that day.

  I wanted to spare him. To save him, even if I couldn’t save myself. Even if I couldn’t save Gray.

  “Darius Beaumont,” I panted, holding up my hands for a momentary cease-fire. “That’s your name. Listen to me. You’re the most powerful vampire on the west coast. You were born in London, many years ago. You own a club in the Bay called Black Ruby. Gray is… You’re bonded to her, Darius.”

  He stopped the violence long enough to hear my words, but none of them seemed to be sinking in.

  “You’ve suffered memory loss,” I continued, spitting out blood. It was a struggle to stay on my feet, but I had to keep talking. Had to keep trying to get through his thick skull. “The three of us just returned from the Shadowrealm. We were trying to get Gray back to her own magical realm, but we were attacked by memory eaters and had to jump into the hell portal. Now her soul’s trapped in hell, and we’re here trying to kill each other.”

  “Hmm. Charming story,” he said, his tone now light and teasing. “But how will it end, I wonder? The suspense is nearly killing me. Perhaps it will kill you, too.”

  “The ending hasn’t been written yet.” I took a deep breath to regroup, hoping we still had a shot at a good one. Hell, I’d settle for one where we all walked out of here alive. Broken bones and bloody knuckles would heal. Gray’s soul was trapped in hell, but it still existed, which meant we might be able to get it back. And Darius’s memories? I wasn’t ready to give up on them yet, either. Somewhere, maybe they existed. In this realm or another.

  Shitty as things had gotten, we hadn’t yet crossed the point of no return—not with any of it. There was still a glimmer of light. Of hope.

  “Darius, listen to me. We can still—”

  “Sorry, demon. I’m afraid your part in this tale has come to its inevitable end.” He grinned again, his eyes sparking with fresh desire as they roamed over Gray’s body. “It’s time for my midnight snack.”

  “Not a chance, brother.” I wound up for another hit—anything to stall him from his end game of feeding on her—but stopped short at the strange look on his face.

  Brother, the word that’d barely registered with him earlier, seemed to snag on a memory. His gaze went far away for a beat, then came back, and he cocked his head at me and narrowed his eyes. The whole thing happened in the span of two heartbeats, but I swear I saw the flicker of recognition pushing out from the depths of rage.

  “Beaumont?” I called, unable to keep the hope from my voice. “Darius? Do you—”

  His hand shot out and grabbed my throat, instantly choking off the words right along with my air supply. He hauled me up, my feet dangling a foot off the ground as his mouth twisted into another sick grin.

  Then it went slack.

  I thought he had another memory, a flash of something. But Darius gasped in pain, his eyes wide with shock. He dropped to his knees with a grunt.

  Finally freed from his impossibly strong grip, I squared off with a new assailant.

  I took in the sight of her, my mouth dropping open. With her short stature, wrinkled skin, and head of close-cropped white hair, she looked like she should be sitting in a rocking chair knitting blankets, not taking out vampires outside the hell portal.

  Yet there she was, still gripping the hawthorn stake she’d jammed between his shoulder blades. She shoved it in a little harder now, her mouth pressed into a grim line as Darius’s head slumped forward.

 
; Certain the vampire had been immobilized, she stepped back from him and brushed her hands together, finally meeting my eyes.

  Recognition twisted my gut. My heart fucking stopped.

  It was her.

  Two

  Ronan

  “Deirdre Olivante,” I said, hating the shape of it in my mouth. Though we’d never met before, her name had been seared into my memory for decades, the echo of it like a ticking time bomb that haunted my every step.

  She looked like I’d always imagined her. Short, small-boned, and old, but tough beneath her layers of crafted sweetness, with the same intense blue eyes and sharp cheekbones as her granddaughter.

  I wanted to despise her, but right now I could only be grateful.

  She’d saved us. Ironic, all things considered.

  “Foolish boy,” Deirdre snapped, the first words she’d ever spoken to me. “Rayanne’s soul is trapped in hell, and you’re playing around with a vampire. I thought you were her guardian.”

  I said nothing. She was right. Gray—Rayanne, to her—was my charge, and I’d failed her.

  Again.

  But the fire smoldered out of her words quickly as she took in the sight of Gray. Kneeling beside her on the floor, Deirdre brushed her fingers across her granddaughter’s forehead for the first time in more than twenty years.

  “She’s beautiful,” Deirdre said, momentarily lost in her own world. Her voice was thick with emotion. “So grown-up. I never thought…”

  She trailed off as a tear slid down her cheek. In that moment, she looked vulnerable and wounded, a woman who’d seen more than her fair share of suffering and loss.