I’d thought she was praying, but what if she’d been asking someone else instead? And the darkest, most concerning question of all is this: If Heather has taken over Rainey, does that mean the woman I love is now trapped in the void?
2
Elijah
Somehow, I manage to get cleaned up, doing all I can to ignore not only the destruction I’m leaving behind in my room but also the way my chest feels as though someone drove a fucking dagger into it.
My throat constricts, the burning a reminder of the consequences of our epic failure tonight. But no longer covered in Jane’s blood, I’m able to see more clearly. If Rainey is gone—I want proof of it myself before I kill Heather. The word of the witch who ripped her away is fucking useless, so until I know for an absolute fact, I won’t give up.
I walk down the hall, irrationally angry that I’ll have to leave this place behind. Even as I want to stay, it’s no longer secure. It shouldn’t bother me so much, especially given everything I’m facing, but it was the last place I was truly happy—with Rainey. The fact that I have to walk away just feels like another blow. I'm not even entirely sure how many more I can take.
I should have known better.
Should have realized everything was about to blow up in our faces.
Why? Because everything is always at its calmest before the shitstorm.
After all, you can’t see the darkness coming if you’re staring at the sun. And that’s what Rainey was to me: sunlight. A bright fucking ray of joy despite the shadows.
“You look better,” Bronywyn comments as I step into the den. She’s sitting on top of my desk, feet hanging over the edge of the mahogany. The carpet is still stained with Jane’s blood, and I force my attention away from it.
What’s really fucking scary? It’s not the crimson liquid I crave but the magic residing within it. After having a taste of Rainey’s blood—of the power—my beast will settle for no less.
I let my gaze travel around the room. Agatha stands in the corner, cane in hand, the three black crows perched on a shelf of my bookcase.
Tarnley remains in the opposite corner, his body tense for a fight should it come to that with the old woman.
Jane is not here; though I wouldn’t expect her to be. She lost a shit ton of blood and will probably be out for a few hours at least. Having Jack up my sleeve is something I’d like to keep hidden, for now, so not seeing any reason to beat around the bush, I glare at the unwelcome guest. “Agatha, how about we start with you and your fucking birds.” I cross both arms across my chest, determined to get some answers.
She glares at me. “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”
“Fine.”
“Where did you find the box?” she asks.
“Salem. Why were the crows everywhere Rainey nearly died?”
“They were to warn her of coming danger.”
“You didn’t think to give her a fucking call and do it yourself?”
Agatha completely ignores me, asking her own damn question instead. “When did Rainey first open it? I’m assuming she did because, if she’d left the damned thing closed like she should have, we wouldn’t be here.”
“Back in Salem. In the bunker.”
She nods, pursing her lips together, anger written plainly on her face. “The crows are my family. I was unable to reach out for my own reasons, so I sent them instead. They were merely to get her attention and let her know something was wrong.”
My gaze falls to the three crows staring at me with small, black eyes. “What do you mean they’re your family?”
Again, she ignores my question. “What happened when Rainey opened the box?”
I clench my jaw, fighting the part of me that wants to kill her and just fucking find Rainey myself. “Magic poured from the box, settling inside Rainey.”
“Fuck.” She shakes her head angrily. “You should have known better, bloodsucker.”
“I should have,” I agree. I’ve been beating myself up ever since Rainey opened that fucking box. The last thing I need is her to remind me of how epically I failed her granddaughter. “The birds. You said they’re family. What does that mean?”
She gestures up. “I assume you already know Delaney,” she says, pointing to a smaller crow with iridescent purple shimmering on the edges of its feathers. “These are Rainey’s parents, Mellie and Steven Astor.” The second and third crows stare straight ahead, green and blue shimmering in their obsidian feathers.
I gape at her. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I’m not. When that bitch Fleur stole their bones, she performed a spell to rip their souls from the afterlife. I put them into the birds to keep them from her.”
“That’s black magic,” Bronywyn says, her voice betraying slight awe in Agatha’s abilities.
“It is,” Agatha confirms. “But I’d rather burn in hell than have my family suffer.”
I scoff and shake my head as her attention shifts back to me. “You sure showed Rainey that, didn’t you? The granddaughter you shunned at every turn.”
“You know not of what you speak, bloodsucker,” she shoots back through clenched teeth.
My glare does not waver. “Really? From what I hear, Rainey didn’t even mourn you when you died. You treated her like the bane of your existence.” My words are harsh and completely false, but I see what I needed to confirm Agatha’s true motives: pain. A flash of it so damned quick I barely see it.
But it’s there.
And that means a hell of a lot more than words.
“Rainey had to be separated from our family,” she retorts.
“Why?”
“Why do you have such an interest in my granddaughter? Because she’s a hunter? Because of her power? Why?” she repeats, and I realize I apparently already took my turn.
“I love her,” my reply is so easy, and yet to say the words to someone else when I haven’t uttered them to Rainey yet feels like a gutting.
“Impossible,” she spits out, completely disgusted. “You’re a vampire, a monster. The two of you are born enemies. She should have taken your damned head off the moment you stepped into view.”
I clench my fists. I could throw up my cloak and rip her fucking head off before she even knew what happened. It would be quick and so fucking satisfying.
“I—”
“She’s his mate,” Jane croaks out from the doorway.
I turn to her, relief washing over me. She’s pale, eyes hollow, but she’s alive.
“That’s not possible,” Agatha insists.
“It is. I’ve seen it,” she replies, her voice a hoarse whisper as the damage continues to repair. Apparently, Agatha was powerful enough to stop the immediate risk to Jane’s life, but the internal damage is still present.
The raven with the purple iridescence takes flight and soars across the room to me. I start to flinch away, but she perches on my shoulder and rubs her head against my cheek, the feathers rubbing against my coarse beard.
Delaney.
Glancing from the bird to Rainey’s grandmother, I notice she’s now regarding me with a new level of interest.
“Even if that were true, Rainey would never allow herself to be aligned with a bloodsucker. Not after she believed they killed me.”
“Maybe that’s why she took an interest in Elijah,” Tarnley shoots her way. She whirls on him. “To thank his kind for getting rid of you.”
“You’d damn well better shut your mouth, Vampire, or I’ll shut it for you.”
Tarnley snaps his teeth together, and Agatha sneers at him.
“Are we all on the same side? Or are we going to keep shooting insults around like T-shirts out of a cannon?” Bronywyn asks and gets to her feet. “We all want to either stop Heather or get Rainey back, right? Preferably both? So how about we put our shit aside and focus on that.”
Agatha glares at me. “I can set my dislike for your kind aside to focus on saving Rainey. Can you?”
“I
’m not the one with the unfounded prejudices.”
“I assure you they are not unfounded. Your kind slaughtered my parents, my brother, my husband. Bloodsuckers are the bane on this world, and the moment we rescue Rainey, I’ll be forcing her to see reason.”
I snort. “You obviously don’t know Rainey.”
“Great,” Bronywyn interrupts. “Now that we have that out of the way. How about we come up with a plan? Anyone? Where do we start?”
“We need to open that damn box,” Tarnley says. “If it’s what started this, there must be a way to shove Pandora—or in this case Heather—back inside.”
“Love the reference,” Bronywyn grins at him. “This is why we’re friends, Tarnley. Also, I’m behind, so what the hell actually happened?”
“Rainey opened a spellbound box.”
“I got that far,” she says. “What was in it? Residual magic?”
“The box contained the original witch’s grimoire, soul, and the souls of twelve other witches,” Jane replies.
Bronywyn’s eyes widen. “Wait, she opened the box? The one you hid?”
“Yes.”
With everything going on, I completely forgot that Bronywyn and Jane have known each other for longer than I’ve known either of them. “Heather possessed her,” I add.
Bronywyn looks from Jane to me. “How? That’s not possible. Only a single soul can reside in a vessel at one time.”
“Yes, but Rainey was born during a lunar divide.”
“Shit,” Bronywyn mutters.
“You know of the Lunar Divide?” I ask, surprised. How is it I never heard of it? Was I truly that out of touch in the witch world?
“It’s the Witch Council’s dirty little secret.” Bronywyn’s reply is dry, irritated. And she spits the words out like they’re poison on her tongue. “They have been adamant in keeping it hidden from the rest of the supernaturals. After all, if word got out you were killing innocent nineteen-year-old witches for no reason other than the day they were born, shit would get ugly really fast. It’s one of the reasons I stepped down from the council.”
Bronywyn and I met after she’d already left her seat behind, but she’d never gone into detail as to why she no longer wanted to be a part of it. Not that I’d asked, I’d been fang-deep in a bloodlust stronger than anything I’d ever experienced.
Until I met Rainey. The way I crave her—I shiver. She’s addicting.
Grief tightens my chest, and Delaney shifts on my shoulder as though she can sense my pain.
“Do you believe there’s a spell in there that can shove Heather back in? How did you do it before?” Tarnley asks Jane.
“I convinced her to trust me,” she says. “Then I drove a dagger into her shriveled heart while she was sleeping. Before her soul could be free, I performed a spell that pulled it out and drew it into the box along with the others she’d collected. If she’s already burned those souls, she’ll be unstoppable. Hell, if she kills anymore witches, it will be even worse.”
“The end of the world as we know it begins with dead witches,” I repeat Aoife’s warning to us.
“What was that?” Agatha demands.
“A fae warned Rainey and me that the last time we saw her. She said that a darkness is coming—and told Rainey the original witch would be the head of it.”
Bronywyn nods and pulls out her phone. “Then we have our step one.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask her.
“Make a call and get the witches out of Billings.”
“You can do that?”
She glares at me as if my question was stupid. “I’ve been around a long time. If I tell them to scatter, they’ll listen.”
“We need to call everyone we can trust.” Agatha sighs. “We’re going to need a hell of a lot of power to contain her. Rainey’s magic will be potent enough, given her heritage. Add to that Heather’s and the magic she’s already stolen—we can’t do this alone.”
“Aoife,” Tarnley offers from the back.
Bronywyn whirls on me. “Aoife? The human who sent your pathetic ass spiraling?”
“Yes. Apparently, she promised herself to a fae in return for life and magic.”
“You have a fae in your back pocket?” Agatha asks. “Interesting.”
“First of all, she’s not in my back pocket. And second of all, I loved her. She was slaughtered like an animal in front of me. I lost my shit. I get it, and I regret it. Can we not bring it up again?”
A muscle ticks in Bronywyn’s jaw, and I know her well enough to see that she regrets her words. “She’s a fae now?”
I nod. “And she’s currently in the veil, so I have no way of reaching her.”
“Delaney?” Agatha asks.
The bird on my shoulder goes limp and starts to fall, I barely manage to catch her in both hands before she slips to the ground.
“What the hell?”
“She’ll be back,” Agatha says calmly as if a bird passing out is totally fucking normal. Who the hell knows; for her, it probably is. “Until then. We should relocate the box. Clearly, your silver is not strong enough to contain her.”
“I hadn’t even considered that,” I admit. I was far too distracted with the lust, the sex, and the betrayal to even realize Heather managed to take over Rainey in a house that should have made it impossible. Unless she’s been in control ever since we left Ramirez’s house.
“The bloodsucker with no witch magic can grab the box, and we can go. I have a house that will be safe while we figure out just what we’re going to do.”
“No way in hell am I staying with you,” I retort. “She doesn’t know where Tarnley’s place is. I’ll be staying there. With the box.”
She glares at me, lips pursed. “Fine. I suppose I’ll be in touch. Grab your allies, only those you can trust.” She moves past me, glancing down at the bird still in my hands as she does. “Delaney should be back soon,” she adds then leaves the room.
I watch her leave, not at all bothered by her departure. While I haven’t had a chance to press her for everything I need to know, I also feel as though I haven’t had even a millisecond to process what the fuck just happened.
“I’ll finish making the calls,” Bronywyn adds. “Want to stay with me?” she asks Jane, who shakes her head.
“I’m going to stay with Elijah and Tarnley.”
Bronywyn glares back at me and then Tarnley before looking back to Jane. “Be safe. Call me if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
Soon, it’s just Jane, Tarnley, and me standing in the center of my bloodstained den.
“This is one hell of a clusterfuck,” Tarnley says, running a hand over his short hair.
“We should have killed her,” Jane says softly.
I start to lose my temper, but the broken look in her eyes has me clamping my mouth shut. Jane’s mismatched eyes are full of tears, her throat still red where Heather slit it wide open. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.
“We will if we have to,” I promise. “But we have to try and get Rainey back first.”
One thing is true above all else; our group took a beating tonight, and we lost.
But I’ll be damned if I stay down.
3
Rainey
I’ve never given much thought to hell.
To the idea of spending eternity in constant torment. A sick, twisted reality that will drive even the most grounded into insanity. Probably because I’ve always believed that when the reaper does come for me, the good I’ve done in my life has earned me a ticket north, to heaven, where I will be reunited with family and friends I’ve lost along the way. After all, haven’t I earned some joy? Some fucking happiness after everything I’ve fought for?
Arrogant? Possibly, but it’s what has kept me going day after day, night after night, of risking my life to save others.
I know that it’s probably surprising to some that I believe in God. In heaven and hell. But with everything I’ve seen in my life
, there really is no other choice. No other explanation.
I’ve seen people do great things, stepping up to help complete strangers, and giving me faith in the human race—in the good of the world. And on the opposite side, I’ve witnessed great atrocities. Things that can only exist when evil is present and walking amongst us.
And honestly, if I didn’t believe, I’m not entirely sure I could keep breathing. There has to be good and evil in the world. Otherwise, aren’t we the monsters?
So, no, even with everything I’ve done, seen, not once in my life have I ever believed I was going to hell.
But I’m not sure what other description there is for where I’m trapped now.
“Rainey, come out and play,” a voice whispers, cooing to me from the inky black surrounding me.
“Come see us, Rainey,” another calls.
I look around me, breathing ragged, as I search for the source of the voices. But there’s nothing but darkness.
Nothing except the inky black shadows moving and swirling around me. I can’t see my hands, my fingers.
I can’t feel my own skin, and I’m not even entirely sure I’m solid anymore.
What happened?
“Rainey!” they call out to me, laughing wildly, enjoying the panic fueling my every breath. Or am I even breathing anymore?
Memories flash through my mind as though I’m seeing them play out right in front of me. Photographs in perfect frames.
Soft footsteps as I creep down the hall.
Walk into a bedroom.
Kamie staring up at me, terrified as I slit her throat.
Ramirez reaching for his gun, begging me to stop, not understanding why I would do something so horrible.
We were friends.
Partners.
How could I slaughter them in their beds?
I cry out, knowing it wasn’t me and still feeling every drop of blood as though it was. As if it was my hand that smeared crimson on their pristine walls.
That shattered the perfect frames.
Blood Cure: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 3) Page 2
