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

by Jessica Wayne

  “Just made you a bit more trustworthy, lover. Now, be a good boy and come sit.”

  My body obeys even as my mind fights her order. But as the darkness begins to spread, infecting my brain, I stop being concerned with Rainey or this fight I find myself in the center of.

  The only thing that matters is pleasing my queen. I kneel before her, prepared to lay down my life at her feet.

  My queen kneels with me, her fingertips gently caressing the side of my face as I stare into her eyes.

  “Now, when I tell you to kill your hunter, what will you do?”

  I don’t even hesitate. “Kill her.”

  36

  Rainey

  Kneeling on top of a nearby building, Fearghas beside me, I focus on the young witch I just sent into what could be the lion’s den. Or at least, I fucking hope it is. We’ve been to nearly every single supernatural hangout spot and have yet to find the witch bitch we’re after.

  Quite a few rowdy shifters and one handsy vampire, but nothing we couldn’t handle.

  Raven holds herself well, the bag with Heather’s grimoire slung over her shoulder as she makes her way toward a warehouse club frequented by supernaturals.

  If the bartender from the club the other night was working under Heather’s thumb, it seems like a good enough place to start looking for the bitch.

  Raven’s com unit is on, so as soon as she steps inside, music beats against my eardrum.

  “Shit, that’s loud,” Tarnley complains. “I don’t know why you need it. Aren’t you supposed to have great hearing?”

  “Even a hunter can’t hear through that much techno, shut your damned mouth so I can listen.”

  “Hey!” I hear Raven call over the com.

  “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

  “I’m looking for a buyer,” Raven says, dropping her voice.

  “What kind of buyer?”

  “Someone who is interested in antiques.” She pats her bag. “Old texts, perhaps?”

  Without being right there and able to witness the bartender’s body language, I have no idea how the conversation is actually going. At least, not until he says, “I have someone in mind. Come this way.”

  The music grows louder before fading completely. I can hear a door shut, and I pay close attention so I can make sure I don’t miss Raven’s call for help should she utter the word concerned.

  “Right this way.”

  After a few brief moments, another door shuts, and a familiar voice sends rage furling up my spine. “Hello, please have a seat,” Heather coos through the com. “What’s your name?”

  “Raven.”

  “Well, Raven, I’m going to take great care of you.”

  “It’s her,” I whisper to Fearghas. He disappears, returning a moment later with Jack and Willa. Then, after leaving again, he comes back with Agatha and Jane.

  “I’ll grab the rest and bring them in once you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” I start to head toward the fire escape, and Fearghas grabs my arm. I spin around, meeting concerned eyes.

  “Please don’t get yourself killed. You’re the least irritating of the bunch.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “Just remember that if you do, I can come kick your ass in the veil.”

  “Understood,” I reply with a nervous smile. Truthfully, I have no idea what to expect when I walk into this club. The place is crawling with supernaturals, and there’s no telling whether or not they’re in their right mind. But after scouring all the supernatural hangout joints for the last four hours, the fact that we finally found her—there’s no way in hell I’m sitting on this one and waiting for a better opportunity that may never come. I turn to my grandmother and Jane. “Are you two ready?”

  “We are.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, turning to Jane. “If you get into a bind and need your magic—”

  “Then I use it,” Jane replies.

  Delaney’s crow is perched on top of my grandmother’s shoulder, her black talons clinging to a heavy jacket. “You do whatever you have to do to survive,” my grandmother tells me. “Don’t you dare die in there.”

  “You guys too.” Turning back to Jack and Willa, I take a deep breath. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s do it.” Jack takes Willa’s hand, and they start across the rooftop, since the building is only two stories, they jump rather than taking the fire escape. I follow, my increased strength making it so I don’t injure myself further by taking the shortcut.

  My boots land softly on the concrete, and I take the lead as we cross the parking lot toward the club. My part in this plan is simple—make a scene. And I have every intention of doing just that.

  The second I reach the door, it swings open, and a bouncer with a massive hoop through his nose stares down at me. “Can I help you?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly.

  “I’m here to see a bitch about a missing hunter.” Reaching up, I grip the nose ring and rip, before lifting my leg and slamming my foot into his chest. He flies backward inside the club as the music continues pumping and the crowd dances without a care in the world.

  The bouncer jumps up with a war cry as blood drips down his face. Right on cue, I hear Fearghas clear his throat behind me, and I turn around as three dozen shifters, a handful of succubae, and one massive firebird burst into the club. The latter is such a fucking awesome sight, I have to take just a moment to watch as she swoops down with huge talons and rips the bouncer up from in front of me. Where she touches him burns, and he roars as his entire body erupts in flames.

  Screams echo through the warehouse as the music stops mid-song, and chaos reigns. I walk through it as the fighting breaks out around me, my sole focus getting to the bitch who stole the only person who makes my life worth living.

  A woman comes at me from the right. I slam my fist into her nose and keep moving.

  A man lunges for me. I spin, kicking him in the chest, before driving my blade down into his throat. Two more race toward me, so I pick up the pace, running and pouncing, knocking them both to the ground and quickly cutting their throats before jumping back to my feet.

  Covered in blood, I fight as necessary while continuing to move forward.

  Always moving forward.

  I can hear through the com that Heather is still talking to Raven, not concerned with what’s happening below, and I take that as a sign she either has no clue or doesn’t care about the fight that broke out.

  The stairs open to a long, narrow hallway. Weapon loaded with silver bullets at the ready, I clear each room prior to moving forward.

  Cold sweat drips down my spine, my nerves frantic as I get closer and closer to the end of the hall.

  She has to be here.

  He has to be here.

  One more door. I grip the handle and shove it open. Raven spins in her chair, acting surprised, while Heather simply smiles up at me. Aoife’s eyes were once green, but now they’re solid black.

  Eyes are the windows to the soul.

  “Finally! You were really taking your time getting here.” Heather leans back in her chair. “You can go now, little mouse,” she tells Raven, who gets to her feet and rushes out, winking at me as she reaches the door. “She won’t make it outside. Such a pity,” Heather adds.

  “Where is he?” I demand, staying far enough back just in case the bitch thinks she’s going to dematerialize me somewhere.

  “How about we have a conversation. Then, we can get into all that.” She gestures to the chair, but I remain where I am, weapon aimed and ready.

  Her bones weigh heavily on my back as I eye the grimoire Raven carried in, still sitting on her desk. They were my final offering in exchange for Elijah, but now that I’m facing her, I’m reminded of all she’s taken, and I don’t know that I can let her walk away.

  Even if it costs me everything. “How about I put some new fucking holes in you.”

  Heather throws her head back and laughs, a throa
ty sound that brings goosebumps to life on my skin. “You are something, aren’t you? How about we look at this logically. You put bullets in me, I’ll simply rejoin you.”

  Now, it’s my turn to grin. “Except you can’t.”

  Heather’s smile falters as she studies me with a new appreciation. “It’s not possible.”

  “It is possible. There’s no longer a void within my soul, Heather, which means there’s no room for you.”

  She swallows hard.

  “I wonder what will happen if I kill you now.” I step forward, staring down the barrel at her.

  “You kill me, and you’ll never find Elijah.”

  “I bet I will.” I pull the trigger, aiming for her arms instead of center mass. She dodges to the side, resulting in the bullets hitting the wall behind her. Sheetrock dust puffs out as I continue firing. Heather disappears, and I spin just in time to face her. She slams her forearm into my arms, sending my pistol to the side.

  I drop it but slam my palm into her chest, and she flings back into the wall behind her.

  With a savage grin, she dematerializes. “You can’t beat me, Rainey Astor. No matter how much you try.”

  “You’re wrong.” Spinning, I face off with her again. This time, pulling at my power. I just need to get close enough to hit her with it. Lunging, I nearly collide with her, but she disappears.

  I spin again, and this time, with my power at the surface, I slam both palms into her. Screaming in pain, she stares down at the charred handprints from where I touched her. “How’d that feel, bitch?” Gripping her throat, I reach for my blade, but she’s gone in an instant.

  I turn again and see that she’s reappeared behind her desk, standing beside a door. “You want Elijah?” she asks, her cheeks red with anger, bright hair wild around her face. “Here he is.”

  She pulls open the door to an adjoining room, and Elijah steps out. I start to rush toward him but stop mid-step when I see what she’s done to him. My heart breaks into a thousand pieces as I stare at him.

  Solid black eyes have replaced the blue as he stares at me, every bit the monster he once was.

  “Elijah?” I choke out, hoping to reach the man beneath the beast.

  He takes another step toward me, and for the first time since we met, I’m genuinely terrified he may kill me. “I know you’re in there,” I whisper. “Come back to me.”

  “So sad, really,” she says softly, running her fingers over the muscles of his arm. He never tears his eyes from mine. “You’ve already lost so much, little hunter. I wish I could apologize for taking him from you too, but I just can’t.”

  “Let him go. You can have me.”

  “I don’t need you. Especially not when you’ve brought me both the book and my bones.” She gestures to the bag on my back. “I’ll be taking that now.”

  Clutching my blade, I don’t give her any warning before I send it spiraling across the room. It embeds in the flesh of her shoulder, and she glares down at it, unmoving.

  “Kill her,” she snarls to Elijah.

  With the force of a predator, he surges toward me, our bodies colliding as we both slam into the wall behind me.

  He drops his head and tries to rip out my throat, but I manage to bring my arms up and break his grip. Slamming my face into his nose, I ignore the pain and the way his bone crunched beneath the force of my hit.

  Stumbling back, he doesn’t even bother to cover his nose, and when he stares up at me, nose broken, blood dripping down his face, I don’t see even a trace of the man who’d once held me in the dark.

  “Don’t you love my new pet?” Heather’s melodic voice carries through the large room a moment before she appears beside Elijah. She reaches up and tousles his hair. “Who am I kidding, of course, you do. That was kind of the whole point. And after your little show—I have to say, I’m enjoying this far more.”

  I notice the dagger missing from her shoulder and find it on the floor beside the wall across from me. “Let him go, and I might not rip your head from your shoulders.”

  She grins at me. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?” Her fingers leave his hair and trail down his shoulder, bicep.

  A growl emanates from deep within me as the power I can barely control calls to the surface once more.

  “Don’t worry, I take really good care of my pets. And this one is my favorite.”

  I swallow hard, trying my damndest to keep my calm despite the raging storm within me. “I thought I was going to enjoy killing you before, but now? I’m pretty damn sure it will be the best moment of my life.”

  Something breaks just outside, and Heather whirls around. Using her distraction to rush toward her, I drop my shoulder and slam into her body, knocking her across the room. Retrieving the dagger, I roll away from her and back to my feet.

  “Kill her!” she orders Elijah again.

  I turn just in time to avoid his fist colliding with my jaw.

  “Elijah,” I call out. “I know you’re in there. Please, come back to me.” Quickly, I pop the cap of the vial long enough to take the blood-slicked blade and dip it into the liquid. I’m just sticking the cork back in when he charges once more.

  Spinning out of the way, I bring my elbow back as he tries to come at me from behind. Then I turn, unwilling to have my back his direction for long. The dagger clatters from my hand, and I barely manage to keep my grip on the vial that I’m more than ready to shove down Heather’s throat.

  He growls at me and lashes out with hands that have given me great pleasure and are now determined to deliver pain. Elijah comes after me with everything he’s got, and I block hit after hit, the entire time playing defense because I don’t want to hurt him.

  Soon, he’ll give me no choice, and that terrifies me far more than anything else Heather could have done to me. I dodge a hit to the ribs, only to move too slowly to avoid another blow. Elijah’s large fist collides with my jaw. A bone cracks, and pain explodes across my face. The vial clatters to the floor. I stumble back into the wall and duck down, using my foot to sweep his out from under his body. When he’s on his back, I withdraw the dagger from my boot as I straddle him, pressing the cool silver to his throat. “Don’t make me kill you,” I whisper, tears streaming down my cheeks. Each word brings me pain, and not just because of what I imagine is a fractured jaw. “Please, Elijah.”

  He bucks beneath me, and I slam my fist down into his face. Once. Twice. Three times. Still, each time, he glares up at me, new blood on his face.

  “I love you,” I urge him to hear before grabbing the vial and racing across the room to Heather, who’s watching with sick glee. She throws her hand up, but the spell block Bronywyn placed on the room must have just taken effect, so the bitch can’t do a damned thing. Grabbing the back of her neck, I jam the entire glass vial into her mouth, draw my fist back, and ram it into her cheek. Glass crunches, and she screams, spitting blood-covered shards of it onto the ground.

  Agatha didn’t tell me how much I had to get into her system, so I’m really hoping it was enough.

  “What did you do?” she roars loudly and closes her eyes. Nothing happens. “What the hell did you do?”

  I smile. But before I can respond, large hands are on my back, ripping me away from her before I can drive a blade into her heart. I slip my shoulders out of the backpack full of bones, and he throws it to the side, snarling as he wraps a hand around my throat and slams me to the ground.

  “Rainey!” Jane yells as she and Agatha burst into the room.

  “Get to her bones! It’s done!” I choke out, as I claw at Elijah’s hand. He leans down, and I slam my forehead into his. It dazes him just enough that I’m able to bring my fist up into the side of his head. He topples to the side, and I flip back up to my feet just in time to see Heather growl as she reaches for Jane.

  Agatha rushes forward, but with the spell block in place, there’s not much she can do. The moment she’s close enough, Heather grabs a metal letter opener and brings it up, stabbi
ng my grandmother in the chest. She stumbles back, eyes going wide as she stares down at the blade protruding from her body.

  Her eyes find mine less than a second before she falls. Elijah grabs me again, wrapping an arm around my throat as he pins me against his body.

  “No!” I scream, trying to fight my way out of Elijah’s ironclad grasp. “Agatha! No!” I scream until my lungs burn as Jane stumbles back, and Heather reaches out, her hand closing around the throat of my best friend.

  “Bring her out here. She should watch this.”

  Elijah drags me after her, and I stare down at my grandmother, who’s lying in the center of her own puddle of blood, chest barely rising and falling as she steadily loses the fight.

  Before I even have time to process though, Jane screams, and I’m yanking at Elijah’s hold. Kicking, hitting, no longer concerned with hurting him, I give him everything I have. I grab my dagger and bring it up, slicing into his forearm, but he doesn’t budge. Heather glares at me and waves her hand to fling the blade away. I realize then, far too late, that while the potion may have removed her ability to regenerate like a fae, we’re no longer within the confines of the spell block.

  Which means she has full access to her witch side.

  “You took away my fae magic with your little spell,” Heather retorts angrily. “But you should have known that I’m a hell of a lot more.”

  “Use it, Jane!” I yell. “Please!”

  Jane gags, her words not audible as her face turns red.

  Fear paralyzes me then as I realize I’m completely helpless. “Fearghas!” I scream for the fae. “Fearghas, help!” Breath coming in ragged gasps, I long for a blackout even as I know one won’t come now that we’ve closed the void.

  Anything that would make me more than I am is impossible. I pull at my power, the burning shock doing nothing to Elijah, no matter how much power I pull into me. I can smell his skin burning beneath my hands, and still, he doesn’t relinquish his hold.

  “Please,” I cry. “Please, don’t.”

  Heather laughs.

  “Say goodbye to Jane. This really has been a long time coming. And now, I’ll have your magic too. Tell me, was killing me worth all of this?”