Blood Cure: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 3)

by Jessica Wayne

  “The vampire is part of my deal.”

  “Now, I’m really interested.” I take a seat at the table and cross my legs at the ankles. “Let’s hear this proposition of yours and why you think I would be interested in having any more dealings with your kind. In case you forgot, it didn’t exactly go the way I hoped it would the first time around.”

  “Did you not achieve all the power you wished for? The revenge you sought?”

  “It came at a price.”

  “A price you were more than willing to pay at the time,” the fae retorts. These fairy bastards are always one half-answer away from me driving a dagger into their hearts. If I could, at least. Even I don’t have the power to go up against a fae.

  At least, not yet.

  “Why are you here? What deal is it you wish to make?”

  “I want you to leave the vampire alone.”

  “That all?”

  “No. You will also relinquish the hunter’s body.”

  I snort. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I wish for her to return to Elijah.”

  I hesitate before responding, waiting for her to clarify, but she doesn’t continue. Another annoying trait they all seem to share. They won’t ever give up more information than they have to, and they make you work for what you do want to know. “Any particular reason you care for this vampire?”

  “I owe him a happy ending,” she says. “And you will grant him it.”

  “You’re his ex-fiancée,” Stella whispers from behind me.

  “He was engaged to a fae?” I ask, once again completely surprised. “This vampire has a magic cock.” I laugh. “A fae and a hunter?”

  “I always thought she was human,” Stella says. “Though I suppose that could have simply been a rumor.”

  “So you broke his heart, and now you want to give him his love back. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I need this body.”

  “Not if I can find you another—one that is even more powerful than that hunter you currently possess.”

  Interest piqued yet again, I turn back toward her. “And who would you have in mind?”

  She swallows hard and straightens. “Me.”

  I gape at her and then glance back at Stella, who looks just as surprised if not even more so than I am. “I’m sorry.” Turning back to her, I choke down my excitement. If she’s telling me the truth—if she’s willing to sacrifice herself and give me control—I would be a fae. Which is a hell of a promotion from hunter.

  Their magic is without limits—pure power will be at my disposal.

  I may not even need my bones or the damned book.

  “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. I simply wish for you to let me speak with her before you take over my body. Alone,” she says.

  “Why?”

  “I wish to tell her a message to carry back to Elijah.”

  Wary, I cross both arms. “And what message will that be?”

  “That I’m sorry for what I did to him.”

  Holding her gaze a moment longer, I search her expression for any hint of betrayal and find none. “Let me get this straight. You want to hand over your body—your magic—in exchange for my letting the vampire and hunter live.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what makes you think I’ll hold up my end of the bargain?”

  Aoife’s eyes narrow on my face. “Because if you don’t, Elijah will slaughter you.”

  I grin. “Unfortunately for Elijah, he’s since been relieved of his power.” I glance back at Stella. “If he even survived the cure.”

  Aoife gasps and covers her mouth with both hands. “You gave him the cure?”

  “I did. But to be fair, it was only after he tried to force-feed it to me.”

  “But he lives.”

  “He was still breathing last I saw him.”

  She swallows hard. “I need to ensure he’s alive before we continue this.”

  I shrug. “Go for it.”

  She’s gone in a flash, and I’m left staring at an empty space, wondering if she’ll ever return. “Stella.”

  “Yes?”

  “Make preparations. If that fae returns, she is not to leave.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” She bows and disappears out of the room as I cross the space and retrieve an apple from the bowl.

  I bite down, the crunch followed by juice that fills my mouth.

  “Seems I won’t need you for long, after all, Hunter.” Unable to fight the smile, I continue watching the space—waiting for the fae to return.

  For when she does, she’s mine.

  11

  Elijah

  Fire burns through my veins. Torturous agony that has me begging for the sweet relief of death. I arch up off the mattress that might as well be stone beneath my body for the way it scrapes against my tender skin.

  I cry out again, a desperate sound as someone presses a cool cloth to my head. My entire body convulses, and I begin to shiver uncontrollably.

  Rainey’s terrified face swims into view.

  Wide eyes brimming with tears.

  She opens her mouth to scream, and nothing comes out. “I’m sorry, Rainey,” I whisper. “So sorry.”

  “Is there nothing you can do?” Tarnley demands, his words pulling me back to the present.

  “No, I’ve never—that cure was a myth until this last week,” Bronywyn snaps. “How the hell am I supposed to know anything about it?”

  “Agatha?” Tarnley asks.

  “I’ll try.” I feel a cool hand against my forehead and arch up into it, desperate for even the slightest relief from the charring of my body.

  She murmurs something I can’t even begin to try and understand in my current condition, but nothing happens.

  No relief.

  No quiet in the storm.

  Just endless fucking torment.

  “It’s killing him!” Jane cries out. “Let me try!”

  “You use your magic, and you’re as good as dead anyway.”

  “I won’t watch him die,” she retorts moments before a cool breeze flutters over my sweat-slicked skin.

  “Move aside,” a familiar voice orders, and moments later, Aoife comes into view above me, her soft eyes filled with concern. “I am so sorry for your pain,” she whispers and raises both palms up. “Allow me to attempt to ease it.”

  The breeze picks up and whips the hair around her face. I shut my eyes and clench my teeth together, begging for relief.

  Relief that finally begins to take place.

  The agony fades first—the pain dissipating with each murmured word.

  The fire is next, fading, and I’m so damn sure I’m nothing but smoldering ash now. Imagine my surprise when I force my eyes open and see my shirtless body lying on top of the bed—a handful of people staring down at me.

  “You will live, Elijah, but you need to rest.”

  “What the hell am I?” Eyes heavy, I’m barely able to keep them open long enough to see her smile softly.

  “Alive,” she whispers. “I will bring her back to you,” she says and vanishes from view.

  “Aoife?” I call out and try to sit up, but my muscles give out, and I collapse back onto the table. “Where is she?”

  “Gone,” Tarnley says.

  “Heather? Rainey?”

  “They’re gone too,” Jane replies, coming to stand beside me and taking my hand in hers. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

  “What the fuck was in that cure?”

  “Something you never should have taken. It was only meant for Rainey, we used Agatha’s blood to cultivate it specifically for one of the Astors. And aside from that, it should have killed anyone else.”

  “It nearly did.” Groaning, I lean back on the mattress.

  “How do you feel?” Bronywyn questions.

  “As though I was hit by a truck.”

  “Bite him,” Bronywyn tells Tarnley.

  “Excuse me? No one’s fucking biting me.”

  �
��He can tell you what your blood is.”

  “You want me to bite someone who has the cure running through his veins? No thank you, not really thinking that’s worth the risk.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Bronywyn admits as Tarnley helps me sit up then helps me down and into a chair.

  Each movement is strained and feels as though I’m lifting thousands of pounds of weight and not just my own body mass.

  “Do you feel different?” Jane asks.

  “I fucking ache. Everywhere.”

  She retrieves a blade and, before I can argue, draws it across her palm and holds the blood out to me.

  Nothing happens.

  For the first time in my entire life, I don’t crave the blood.

  The beast is gone.

  And while I always thought I would feel joy at that fact—all I feel now is fear. Because what I was could have helped Rainey and now, what the fuck am I? Damn near useless.

  A liability.

  What’s worse? I can no longer feel any connection to Rainey. They might as well have just let me die for as good as I am now.

  “I don’t want it,” I say and lean back, swallowing hard.

  “Interesting,” Agatha comments. “May I see that?” she asks and holds out her hand for the blade in Jane’s. “Can I see your arm?”

  Begrudgingly, I offer it to her, and she drags the blade over my arm. Fresh blood wells up onto my skin, and Tarnley inhales deeply.

  “Hunter.”

  “Excuse me?” I whip my head around so damned fast it nearly knocks me out of the chair.

  Tarnley grins at me, showing two sharp canines. “You are no longer a vampire, my friend. Nor are you a human. You have the blood of a hunter in your veins.”

  The night air is cool around me as I stand on Tarnley’s back porch, staring out over the trees behind his house.

  The entire fucking night might as well have gone up in flames. We failed—I failed—and now we’ve lost our best chance at getting Rainey back.

  There’s no way Heather will trust us enough to let us close to her again.

  And that’s not even taking into consideration the fact that I just became a hell of a lot less durable. Yes, I may not be human, but as a vampire, I was more resilient than I am now.

  How am I supposed to rescue Rainey when I’m no longer what I was?

  “I will bring her back to you.” Aoife’s words are on repeat in my memory as I attempt to understand what she was promising.

  Is Rainey trapped in the void? Is that what she found when she traveled there to find out who was trying to pull Rainey into the veil?

  Is she planning on going after Heather alone?

  Resting both hands on the wooden top of the porch railing, I drop my head and stare down at my bare feet.

  “How you feeling, bloodsucker?” Jack steps up beside me and holds out a glass of whiskey, which I take without hesitation.

  “You’re going to need a new nickname,” I tell him, and he chuckles darkly.

  “If it’s any consolation, you’ll always be a bloodsucker to me.”

  “Lovely.” I tip the glass up and let the liquid burn my throat as it seeps into my system. “How is Josiah? I know he lost quite a few tonight.”

  Jack nods. “Seven. He’s managing. They’re preparing them for burial now.”

  “It wasn’t Rainey.”

  “I know that, and so do they.”

  “Are they planning on killing her on sight now?”

  “No. They won’t harm Rainey. Even from Salem, Cole was pretty heavy in the argument for her as was Josiah.”

  “You’ve forgiven him then? Cole?”

  “I don’t have the strong urge to separate his head from his shoulders if that’s what you’re asking. At least not at the moment.”

  “Good to know.”

  A crow flies in and lands on the balcony to my right. The purple iridescence of her feathers lets me know it’s Delaney. Even with the three of us standing out here, I still feel so alone, so empty without Rainey.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat as the image of her covered in blood, wide-eyed and panicked, floods my mind.

  She’d been so terrified, and I’d let her down.

  “Any clue what we’re going to do next?” Jack asks me, and I shake my head.

  “Not a single fucking idea. We lost the element of surprise. There’s no damn way she’s letting us that close again. And since we don’t know what her next move is going to be—”

  “We’re up shit creek without a paddle,” he says, and I nod.

  “Then let’s get some sleep and figure it out in the morning.” He turns to head inside, but I don’t move. “If you’re exhausted, you’re no good to her.”

  “I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

  “Maybe not when you were a bloodsucker, but us hunters heal when we sleep.”

  “This is going to be really fucking annoying,” I growl as I follow him inside.

  “Look on the bright side; you can eat garlic now.”

  His attempt at a joke isn’t lost on me. Though I’m not open to being pulled from my misery. “I could eat garlic before.”

  Jack just chuckles and heads down the hall, leaving me to walk through the quiet house to my room. I collapse back onto the mattress and try my best to sleep.

  Unfortunately, even as sleep drags me down into the dark, I find no rest.

  12

  Rainey

  My eyes snap open beneath bright fluorescent lights. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision. Skin still slick with blood, a once-white shirt is now stained crimson. I choke out a sob, trying to contain my fear.

  Who did I kill?

  What did I do?

  “Rainey.”

  The familiar voice has me jumping to my feet and spinning around. “Aoife?” Rage furls in my belly. “Are you—”

  She smiles softly. “I’m not working with Heather, Rainey. I’m not Stella.”

  “Then what are you doing here? Why are you here?”

  “How do you feel?” she asks, ignoring my other questions.

  “Physically—I feel fine.”

  “Do you feel free?”

  “Free?”

  “Mentally. Do you still feel bound?”

  Her question surprises me, but I take a moment to close my eyes and seek out that dark part that didn’t exist before Salem. When I don’t find it, I look back at her, trying my damndest not to weep with joy as I realize that for the first time since before Salem, I feel like me. “I—where is she?”

  Aoife breathes a sigh of relief and smiles softly. “I need you to pay very close attention to what I’m about to tell you. We don’t have long.”

  “Where is Heather?”

  “Stella removed her soul from you. You are no longer plagued with the future she had planned.”

  “Aoife, what happened?”

  “You are to go to your home,” Aoife says quickly. “He awaits you there. Heather has assured your safety.”

  Panic grips my soul. “What did you do?”

  She steps forward and reaches for my hand, patting it softly as one might a loved one. “You and Elijah were always meant to be. Things were always supposed to go this way. It’s the only way. Her power is tied to the host—”

  We’re interrupted when the door opens and Stella walks in, carrying a wooden box that looks similar enough to the one that started this damn mess, I jump back, shielding Aoife as I prepare for a fight.

  “I promised you I was going to fucking kill you, Stella,” I growl and lunge for her.

  With a wave of her hand, she flings me backward into a chair, and straps shoot over my legs, my arms, pinning me in place.

  Aoife watches sadly before turning to Stella. “You assured me that Rainey would go free.”

  “After. Heather wants to make sure you follow up on your end of the bargain.”

  “How do I know you won’t kill her once I’m gone?”

  “You have my word.”

/>   “The word of a traitor!” I roar. “Aoife, go now!”

  She turns to me. “I can’t go, Rainey. This is where I’m to be. Remember what I told you. He awaits your arrival.”

  She takes a seat in the chair across from mine, and leather straps just like mine keep her in place. As I watch the resolve on her face, the horrible truth sinks in. “No,” I whisper. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  Aoife smiles softly. “As I said, it was the only way.”

  “No! Heather can keep me! Let her go! Let Aoife go!” Tears burn my eyes as fire engulfs my soul. I fight against the hold, desperate to save the fae even if it means sacrificing myself. It’s what she did. And if Heather gets her hands on a fae—

  Stella begins to chant in a language I don’t recognize. Power swirls around us, turning the rest of the room into a blur as I focus on Aoife.

  “Please don’t do this, take it back.”

  Aoife doesn’t reply, she simply stares at Stella, and for the first time since I awoke and found her here with me, I see fear on her face. Jaw hard, she fights back tears but doesn’t struggle in her restraints.

  A tear slips free moments before she turns her head to the ceiling and screams.

  “Aoife!” I bellow and struggle harder. The blood in her veins turns black, the tendrils snaking up her legs and arms. She screams again—the terrified sound, unlike anything I’ve ever heard. “Stop!”

  But Stella begins to chant louder, faster, and once the black reaches Aoife’s face, the traitorous witch opens the box. Black smoke fills the air, swirling around Aoife’s body. With one final scream, the fae goes limp, and the black smoke disappears.

  Everything falls so silent, so final as the room stands still.

  I don’t breathe, don’t move as I watch, hoping like hell somehow Aoife planned a way to kill Heather. Maybe this was all one big illusion. Maybe a witch can’t even inhabit a fae—maybe this was her plan all along. To free me and—

  Aoife sucks in a ragged breath and straightens, rolling her shoulders.

  “Aoife?” I whisper her name as my stomach churns. Please, please still be here.

  Her eyes open, and all I see is black.

  Soulless.