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

by Sarah Piper

  Jael laughed, a sound that filled the room with warmth. When he met my gaze again, I saw my tears of joy reflected in his eyes. “Ahh, Gray. Sophie… She cared a great deal for you.”

  “She loved you, Jael.”

  He wrapped his hands over mine, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “How could I honor her memory if I turned my back on you? On our home?”

  “You’re taking a huge risk.”

  “Yes.” He leaned in close, whispering in my ear. “But I’m fighting alongside the heir of Silversbane. I like my odds.”

  And then he was gone, disappearing down the stairs that would lead him out into the alley. In less than ten minutes, Darius and I would follow.

  I turned to Darius, taking a deep breath. We hadn’t spoken much since the staking, but he had mellowed out, just like Emilio had said. He seemed to have gotten past the bloodlust. He no longer needed the hawthorn sedative.

  He was practically back to his old self.

  Except for the part where he didn’t remember any of us.

  Shoving down the pain inside, I said, “We clear on the plan?”

  He gave me a stiff nod, as uncomfortable around me as I was around him. “Crystal, Miss Desario.”

  I took out the comms device Elena had given me and pressed the button to check in.

  “Jael’s moving into position,” I said. “Darius and I are ready to rock. Sunshine and Sparkle will bring up the rear.”

  “Message received,” Emilio said. “All good here, too. Elena?”

  “Ready and awaiting the signal,” she shot back.

  I took another deep breath, trying to calm the nervous energy buzzing through my body. This plan had to work. Our friends’ lives depended on it. Our lives depended on it.

  Once Jael had temporarily neutralized the spell weave, Ronan, Emilio, Detective Hobb, and Deirdre would hit the front of the warehouse, taking out the hunters and fae guards stationed there, working their way up to the second and third floors. Elena, Detective Lansky, and a few other shifters from her local pack would cover the back entrances.

  Darius and I would enter last, with an assist from Jael to disable any additional fae security inside. Our mission was singular: locate and liberate the prisoners.

  The witches.

  Asher.

  My sister, Haley.

  Fiona Brentwood, the vampire who I still believed wanted to help us, despite her earlier loyalty to Jonathan.

  And every last one of the beings imprisoned and experimented on. Tortured.

  I looked out the windows, watching the fae guard pacing across the alley, and my heart rate kicked up. This was really happening. Jonathan’s twisted, bloody legacy was about to come to an end.

  I just hoped the rest of us survived the fight.

  Thirty-One

  Gray

  The warm, gentle caress of a hand on my shoulder made my heart jump. Not because I didn’t know who it was, but because I was surprised he’d touched me at all.

  “Darius,” I whispered, my insides already heating, despite the protests of my brain. I couldn’t deny our connection, even now, and being in his presence was unnerving enough without physical contact.

  “Before we go into this,” he said softly, “there’s something I’d like to say to you. If you’ll hear me.”

  I closed my eyes, unable to turn around. Unable to look into the eyes of the vampire I loved and not see that same love reflected back at me. I couldn’t do it—not tonight.

  I nodded, bracing myself for whatever twist in this tale was coming next.

  “I didn’t mean to be so cold to you, Gray,” he said, the regret in his voice shocking in its pure nakedness. “So cruel. I am truly sorry.”

  At this, I finally turned around. I tilted my head back to meet his eyes, finding a tenderness I hadn’t expected.

  It wasn’t love or recognition, but it was closer.

  My heart dipped into my stomach, my breath hitching in my throat, stealing away my words.

  “Sometimes I look at you,” he said, his voice silky and low in the darkness, “and I’m overcome with a… a strange feeling. Like we’ve known each other far longer than you’ve let on.”

  “Yes and no,” I said, finding my voice, however frail it felt. “With us, it’s kind of… complicated.”

  “I’d like to hear more about it, if you’re comfortable sharing.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. There was a time when “comfortable sharing” meant something entirely different between us. Briefly I wondered how he’d feel if he could remember that night with Ronan, the love and passion and connection the three of us had shared with each other. It hadn’t happened that long ago; I’d been so certain the three of us were forever. That our night together was only the beginning of something much bigger, much deeper.

  Yet somehow, they’d both slipped through my fingers.

  “You’ve known Ronan and the others much longer,” I said. “You and I met several years ago, when I first came to the bay. You… you helped take care of me when I was in no position to take care of myself.”

  Darius blew out a slow breath—an odd gesture for the vampire—and I felt the heat of it whispering over my lips. When he looked at me again, his gaze was heavy with sadness. “Several years of friendship, gone in a blink. How is that possible?”

  “I wish I knew. Better yet, I wish I knew how to reverse it.”

  So much had happened since I’d talked to Deirdre on the beach, I hadn’t had time to do any more research about blood magic. Part of me wanted to share my theory with Darius, but I wasn’t ready. I needed more information. More… everything. And right now, we had other priorities.

  “When I look at you now,” he said, “I’m overwhelmed with…” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. A scent. He reached out a tentative hand and cupped my chin, our skin barely making contact. Still, it was enough to set my heart on fire.

  “I touch you,” he continued, “and it’s like I can feel everything we’ve lost. But I can’t see the details of it. I taste your scent in the air around me, and it stirs something deep inside me, but brings back no memories.” He opened his eyes, his honey-colored gaze intense and possessive and full of the same intense, desperate longing coursing through my veins. “I’m certain you’ve left footprints on my heart, Gray Desario, yet I can’t recall the sound of a single step, and it’s… it’s breaking me.”

  His words mingled with the intensity in his eyes, the heat in his touch, the proximity of his body, the heartache in his voice, all of it wrapping me up in a spell I knew would soon shatter. But for the moment, I let myself take pleasure in it, indulging in the memories of us, the movie reel of our first kiss, the way we’d touched each other in the car outside Luna’s, our shower at the safe house, the promises he’d made to take me to New York, the snow globe he’d brought back for me, our first time together in the Shadowrealm. Even the raw, lust-fueled night we’d shared in Elena’s basement played in my mind, making my heart race, my core ache, everything inside me desperate for his touch, even now.

  Each memory cut deep, but the pain was necessary, and I welcomed it. It reminded me that it was real. That everything Darius and I shared had really happened.

  I’d lost him. I’d lost Ronan. I’d lost Liam. Each in very different ways, but each resulting in the same broken heart. Still, I wouldn’t trade those moments and memories for anything, even if it meant a lifetime of suffering over this loss.

  “Do you think it’s possible that we might… become friends?” he asked suddenly, pulling me back to the present. “Maybe not overnight, of course. But in time, we might get to know each other again. Perhaps even enjoy each other’s company.”

  “You mean starting over?” I asked, looking up at him. “From scratch?”

  “I no longer have the memories that made me the man you knew and cared for. But in many ways, I’m still that man. It stands to reason that if you and I were destined to become friends once, it could certainly happen again.”

/>   “I think… I think I’d like that.” I smiled. No matter how much I’d lost, no matter how hard life kept trying to hammer home the lessons of a broken heart, that glimmer of hope inside me refused to die. And now, at Darius’s words, it surged brightly once again. It was only for an instant, but it was enough to buoy me for the battle ahead.

  Because if Darius and I could become friends again, maybe we could fall in love again, too.

  The comms device buzzed at my hip. It was time.

  Thirty-Two

  Gray

  From the moment Jael gave the signal, we were in motion. Darius and I ducked behind a Dumpster in the alley, watching as Emilio’s team moved in on the front entrance, easily dispatching the lone fae and the hunter glued to his phone.

  They were inside in under thirty seconds.

  My heart was pounding in my ears, the dull thud threatening to drown out all else. I was relying on Darius’s superior vampire hearing to let us know what was going on inside, because from the outside, everything was still and silent.

  “They’ve been spotted,” he said. “Ground floor. Fae guards are moving in.”

  That was our cue to release the hounds.

  “Sparkle. Sunshine.” I pulled out one of Ronan’s T-shirts, letting them pick up his scent. “Go.” I swatted Sparkle on the butt, sending them bounding off toward the entrance in search of Ronan.

  “Elena’s group is attacking the hunters,” Darius said, cocking his head to listen.

  The echo of gunfire reverberated across the alley, and a flash of Deirdre’s yellow-orange magic lit up the second floor of the warehouse.

  They’d made it upstairs. Now it was on us.

  “Here we go,” Darius said, his arm strong and solid around my waist. “Hold on.”

  Holding me tight, he took off, the alley around me a blur as he sped to the entrance. I closed my eyes against a wave of nausea, but there was no time to be sick. In a blink, we were already inside, the discordant sounds of battle assaulting my ears. The clash of metal, the howl of the hounds, gunfire, the agonizing wail of a hunter who’d fallen to Sunshine’s brutal attack… I caught sight of her just in time to see her rip out his intestines.

  Elena was the only one holding a gun. The rest of her pack, including Emilio, had shifted into their wolf forms, the beautiful beasts attacking the fae guards armed with sleek, lightweight swords undoubtedly infused with magic.

  The unmistakable song of a blade cutting through the air sent chills down my spine, and I spun around to see it slice through the shoulder of a magnificent black wolf.

  “Emilio!” I shouted, but he was already retaliating, lunging for the guard who’d hit him. He sunk his fangs into the guy’s arm before I’d even taken a single step toward him.

  “Keep moving,” Darius ordered. “Their blades aren’t silver. He’s fine.” He grabbed my hand and hauled me toward the back of a huge, open space littered with old metal shelving and discarded office furniture. We wove through the melee, dodging Elena’s shifters as they held off the hunters and fae, our focus on the metal staircases crawling up the back wall.

  We slammed into the wall with a grunt, but my feet didn’t even touch the first step. Darius hauled me against his chest, dragging me up the staircase in another nauseating blink.

  The second floor was a maze of cubicles and office equipment, all of it being decimated in the unfolding chaos. Fae guards darted around every cubical wall, leaping over office chairs and desks, desperately trying to get a piece of the witch at the center of the room. Deirdre wasn’t letting anyone get close. The hum of her magic filled the air with a mix of smoke and an electric buzz that singed the back of my throat, and each time the fae charged, she shot out a burst of magic, forcing them back en masse. Sparkle fought by her side, mauling a particularly brazen hunter before he got within five feet of my grandmother.

  Deirdre was a damn good fighter, but her magic wouldn’t last forever. She was already losing steam, her shoulders trembling as she tried to focus her energy.

  “We have to help her,” I said, more to myself than to Darius. I knew we couldn’t. There were too many obstacles between here and there, and we had to stay focused on reaching the third floor. On freeing the prisoners.

  “Over there,” Darius said, pointing to the next set of stairs. They were clear on the other side of the room.

  I peered into the smokey haze, looking for a route. I’d just found a clear path when I felt two strong hands shove me from behind.

  I fell to the ground and flipped around just in time to see Darius catch a hunter’s blade in the chest—a blade meant for me. The hunter still had his fingers wrapped around the grip when Darius tore the man’s arm clear out of its socket.

  The arm and the body hit the floor. Darius pulled the blade free, wincing. The wound was already knitting back together.

  I gasped in awe, but there was no time to wonder about the healing power of vampires.

  “Move!” he shouted suddenly, and I rolled left, narrowly escaping the jab of a fae blade. The guard lifted his sword for another go, but Darius was already on him, tearing out half his throat with a vicious bite.

  The sword clattered to the ground beside me. I wasted no time in picking it up and clambering to my feet.

  I felt the ripple of its power immediately. It wasn’t an electric buzz or even a hum, but a slow, silky current, clean and crisp as a mountain stream. An icy but not uncomfortable chill ran through my blood, and my own magic stirred in response, reaching to connect with this new power. I felt it the moment it happened—like a bolt sliding home inside me, locking itself into place.

  The cold, new power raced through my body, twining with my magic, energizing me.

  I knew nothing about how to handle a sword, but I swung it anyway, slicing through the air with an ease I didn’t expect. The blade was light but solid, the edges glowing faintly.

  “Looks like you’ve found a new toy.” Darius grinned, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Take it to go.”

  Grabbing my free hand, he led us through the cubical maze, both of us ducking low to keep out of sight. There was a crash behind us, and I heard Ronan’s gruff voice cursing up a storm. I turned, catching a brief glimpse as he jabbed a dagger into someone’s neck. Hunter or fae, I couldn’t tell, but the guy dropped like a sack of rocks. Ronan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, blood pouring from a gash above his eye.

  Please, please let him be okay at the end of all this. Let all of them be okay.

  I sent the little prayer up to the universe, hoping someone, somewhere, heard it.

  Turning back toward Darius, I caught sight of a pair of fae soldiers heading right for us.

  “Darius!”

  “I see them. You take righty, I’ll take lefty.”

  He let go of my hand and lunged for the guy on the left, barely dodging the guy’s sword before sinking his fangs into his neck. On nothing but instinct, I swung my newfound sword in front of me in a smooth arc. I had no proper form, no real idea what to aim for, but I connected anyway, slicing a diagonal gash down his torso. Magic surged through the blade, burning a clean line through the fabric of his uniform, right down to his skin. I watched in fascinated horror as his skin appeared to eat itself away, revealing muscle and bone and blood, unleashing the frantic howls of a soldier being devoured by his own magic. His and mine.

  The combination was deadly.

  And impressive as hell.

  “This way,” Darius shouted. “Now.”

  I ran to catch up, taking his hand once again. Darting past the last row of cubicles, we finally made it to the staircase and up to the third floor.

  Only to find a locked gate at the top of the stairs, barring us from entry.

  “Get back,” he shouted, and I backed down a few steps. He crashed through the metal gate, sending it clattering to the ground.

  We rushed in, my sword raised, but there wasn’t a single guard or hunter in sight.

  “Trap?” I whispered.


  “No,” a voice said from behind us. It was Jael, looking a little worse for wear, but unhurt as far as I could tell. His yellow eyes were alert.

  He slipped between us and moved into the room, hitting a switch on the wall.

  Harsh, white light illuminated an even harsher, whiter room.

  “Self-contained security,” Jael said. “The gate was just a holdover from the building’s previous occupants.”

  The room was windowless and surgically spotless, with gleaming white walls that shone so bright, it was impossible to tell where the light was coming from. The space was full of gleaming steel tables and shelves—a sight that reminded me of a much more high-tech version of the morgue in Blackmoon Bay, where Darius and I had once fought of a trio of vampires.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked, fear gripping my chest. “There aren’t any other floors in this building. They have to be here.”

  “Gray,” Darius said. “Look.”

  I followed his line of sight. It took me a beat to realize that the walls he was staring at weren’t walls at all—they were glass cells. Seven in all.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed. There, huddled on the floor in each cell, were three or four witches. Dressed in dingy white hospital gowns, their heads shaved, their bodies brutalized, they clung to each other, looking up through their glass prisons with wide, frightened eyes.

  “Break the glass,” I said.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Jael said. “It’s secured with magic. Much stronger than the outer walls. I need time.”

  “We don’t have it!” I approached the glass, scanning the faces for my sister. They didn’t move as Darius and I approached. I pounded a fist on the glass.

  No reaction.

  “They can’t see or hear us,” Darius said. “They know only that the lights were turned on.”

  “Another psychological torment,” I said. If they couldn’t see or hear outside their cells, then any time the lights came on, they’d have no idea what awaited them. Food and water? Or the hunter’s carving knife?