The Cursed by Blood Saga

by Marianne Morea

  Jack leaped forward, foam dripping from his mouth as he growled and snapped. Lily held up her other hand. “It’s okay, Jack. He’s just afraid. He knows he doesn’t have much time, and he’s telling me to hurry before it’s too late.”

  Jack growled an acknowledgement but stayed close, nevertheless.

  Lily covered the vampire’s hand with hers, and closed her eyes, knowing Jack was primed and ready for the kill should anything happen.

  She focused on the image of the vampire in her head, and followed the thread to the opening he had left for her in his own mind. The vampire met her there at the aperture and invited her in. The irony of the gesture registered in the back of her mind. Vampire’s needed an invitation before crossing a threshold, and here she was, invited to enter his mind.

  The vampire’s image changed the minute Lily’s mind merged with his. Suddenly he was young, as handsome as any one of the teenage heartthrobs gracing the cover of pop magazines. He greeted her with a smile, his fangs peeking out, just grazing the top of his lower lip.

  “What’s your name?” Lily asked, watching her words flutter like feathers in the air.

  “Michael.”

  She nodded, more in acknowledgement than greeting. This wasn’t a social call.

  Without a word, he raised his arm, and they were surrounded at once by images on all sides, the vampiric version of Disney’s circle-vision 360. Lily’s mind reeled with the onslaught of his memories in full color, sound, motion and smell. Her stomach flip-flopped, churning much in the same way it had at the crime scene. It had to be the way the vampire mind worked, how it processed information at the speed of light and sound that caused such vertigo.

  Michael showed her glimpses of his human life, the ordinary day to day of school and friends. Then the scene shifted to the night he met the redheaded vampire. How she lured him from the club’s dance floor into the bathroom with the promise of quick sex, only to leave him on the tiled floor covered in blood and writhing in pain, as the conversion began.

  Lily’s heart clenched, realizing Michael’s own naiveté had been the means to his lost innocence and stolen life. How many other youths had fallen victims to their own stupid belief of, ‘that will never happen to me’? With this creature on the loose, odds were, the stats would increase substantially if they didn’t get to the source fast enough.

  The scene shifted again, and this time Lily was no longer a spectator. She was there in a dark tunnel with the young vampire, the only sound, the echo of water dripping from the vaulted ceiling as they pressed themselves further into the stone. Following some sort of trail, they moved silently through the passage and out onto the great lawn of New York’s Central Park.

  Even through the scent of dank water, Michael’s newly heightened vampiric sense of smell told them the creature was close. He had found the redhead who had changed him and left him for dead.

  From the upper most part of the Bethesda Terrace, they spotted the creature. But she wasn’t alone. The older one was with her, and they moved quickly, making their way past the pond toward the trees, but morning was still too far off for them to be heading for cover. What was making them move like that at this hour?

  For Lily, it was obvious. These predators were also prey. Tracked and hunted, but by whom?

  Her eyes snapped open as she slid out of the vampire’s mind. He let go of her arm and slumped back onto the soft leather of her coat.

  “You did well, Michael, thank you,” Lily whispered, patting his hand. As she moved to push herself to standing, the vampire’s hand shot out once more, but this time it was to grab the stake from Lily’s hand.

  She fell backward with a soft whoomph, throwing her arms up to protect herself from his strike.

  Michael raised the stake in both hands, but instead, turned the pointed edge toward his own chest. Jack lunged as Lily scrambled to her knees, the realization of what he was about to do dawning on them both.

  “No!” she shouted, but it was too late. The young vampire plunged the sharpened tip straight into his heart.

  A rough gasp gurgled up from his ruined throat, but a ghost of a smile touched his lips as he slumped down, his body crumpling to ash.

  “Michael!” Lily cried, hunched over the molded cinders, but afraid to touch what was left. His silhouetted shape mimicked the bodies found in Pompeii, frozen in volcanic soot at the foot of Mt. Vesuvius.

  Her chin dropped to her chest, and her throat tightened as she whispered a quick prayer, Jack whining beside her in reply. The wind surged, encircling Michael’s form and whirling the ashes into a mini vortex, before blowing them away like so much New York soot. The words “Thank you,” feathered across Lily’s mind, and then all was silent.

  Jack padded closer, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle. She ran her fingers through his silvery fur, the residual breeze drying her cold tears. “Did you see?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for leaving the channel open. Poor guy. Almost makes me sorry for him,” he sighed across her mind.

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Your coat’s ruined.”

  “Jack chuffed at the torn pieces of fabric blown all over the sidewalk and the street. “Yeah, well. All in a day’s work, but at least I saved the Jacket and tie.”

  “That you did,” she said, wiping the wet soot from her face with the back of her hand.

  Come on, I’ll let you walk me home.”

  “No leash?”

  “Hey…don’t push it,” he lifted his muzzle and looked at her with his dark, silver-rimmed eyes. “You do realize all bets are off. You need to call Sean when we get home.”

  “I know,” she answered softly, picking up the bloodied jacket and giving it a good shake, biting the inside of her cheek trying not to cry.

  “Jesus, Lil’, if you’re going to continue in this kind of work, you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. What happened to that boy had nothing to do with you, but because of you, hopefully something good will come of it.”

  “One can only hope,” she said with a sigh, refolding her coat before squatting to reach for her purse.

  “I’m serious, and you’d better think about it before you call Sean. He hears that tone in your voice and he’s going to go ape shit. A shot of Jamison’s and a hot shower will help put things in perspective. I’ll even pour.”

  She smiled, pulling at his fur. “Hair of the dog, huh?”

  “Ayuh.”

  Chuckling, she put her hands on her knees, and pushed herself to standing. “Okay then, Fido, let’s go home.”

  Chapter Nine

  From dense cover, Rafe Miller studied the big wolf as he paced frantically just outside the forest. The wolf’s body language spoke volumes, or at least it did to the tracker’s trained eye. The animal was tense, distracted, and the tracker chuckled, watching and waiting.

  “Like a caged beast,” he mused. But it didn’t take much skill to guess why. The wolf’s obvious distress had everything to do with the full moon riding high in the night sky, but Miller’s calculated guess was that it had more to do with the human girl highlighted in the dossier Edward Parr had given him. This particular wolf was the Alpha of the much-scrutinized experimental Compound of Weres, and Parr wanted him watched.

  Miller had earned the nickname cat’s eye for his expertise in surveillance. He was a rare breed, even as a half-blood. As unusual as it was for a Were Cougar to breed outside its kind, it was even more unusual for half-blood offspring to inherit full-blooded traits. The tracker took full advantage of the anomaly, using it to add to his mystique.

  In the Pacific Northwest, cougars were the ghost walkers of American folklore, secretive and rarely seen. Miller was the best in the country when it came to keeping secrets and keeping tabs, and for some reason, Parr wanted him to keep a close eye on Leighton.

  Camouflaged, the cat’s sandy brown fur blended perfectly against the weather worn bark of the fallen trees surrounding him. In cougar form, Miller took full advantage of his feline
nature, its sharp nocturnal vision and acute hearing.

  Surprisingly, he’d been able to track the large wolf without detection, and though he would love to claim his expertise, the fact was, a wolf’s sense of smell was just as keen as a cat, a detail that made this situation remarkably telling.

  Slinking through the scrub, he followed his gut instinct as well as the Alpha wolf. The night was freezing. But, orders were orders, and Parr was willing to pay extra for this kind of surveillance. He also promised a huge bonus if Miller seized the opportunity to dispose of Leighton, should the chance present itself. No questions asked.

  There could be no dirt on the politician’s lily-white hands. The big cat hissed quietly. Lily. That was the name of the human causing all the problems. Not that he cared one way or the other. A job was a job, and from the look of things, she had the Alpha so torqued it was going to make this an easy kill. I’ll have his throat ripped out before he even knows I’m here.

  Nose up, the cougar sniffed the bitter cold air and took off. Keeping low to the ground, he kept his distance from the wolf and his mind on the payoff. He couldn’t care less about the reasons behind the job. Parr would pay through the nose for his services, of that he’d make sure. The politician was a fraud, despite his polished appearance, and the cat saw through his carefully cultivated pretense. He wasn’t to be trusted. Lifting his face to the full moon, the sandy gray feline smiled like a Cheshire cat. Fuck with me, expect to get clawed.

  The cougar stayed downwind of the wolf. Over the years, he’d learned to neither anticipate nor underestimate his prey. As a tracker, he’d been lucky. Of course, size and his natural feline abilities added to his success, but in all his years as a mercenary, Miller had never tracked anything like the wolf he hunted now. The animal was completely absorbed. It was obvious the wolf was in hunting mode, but his scent told the tracker it was rage, not hunger that drove him.

  The wolf stopped, sniffing the air and circling. The large canine had caught the scent of something close. Something that didn’t belong in these woods. Something big.

  Instinct and hundreds of kills told the tracker to hang back. This wasn’t going to be a pretty kill. Scenting an abandoned fox den, the cougar hunkered down in the brambles. The fox’s scent would mask his for the time being, giving him time to maneuver.

  The wolf’s hackles rose, the dark, course hair bristling along its spine. A low growl had left his throat before he took off, launching himself through the trees. This was no play for power the wolf was purposeful, and he was looking for a fight.

  Miller followed. Picking up speed, he circled around, using his keen sight to gain ground. This was it. Climbing to the low hanging branches of a bare oak, he crouched, waiting for the wolf to pass. The cougar’s nose twitched. He was close enough to smell the musk from the wolf’s fur, sense the heat from the canine’s body and the vibration of his rage and bloodlust coursing through the air. This was going to be one hell of a fight, and the big cat’s mouth watered in anticipation.

  ***

  The moon was full. One more day and his craving for her would be unbearable. Lily had been gone a little less than a week. Sean raised his muzzle to the air and whined. He’d been so concerned about protecting her from the frenzy inherent in a Were’s need to race the moon, he never considered what marking her held in store for him.

  Sean knew Parr was biding his time, hedging bets the alpha would abdicate. The wolf growled. Marking Lily was a double-edged sword, and a decision that played right into Parr’s hand.

  How could he have been so thoughtless? Every Were understood what marking a mate demanded. Sean’s inner wolf would never yield to the constraints, and the more time that passed, the more insistent his frustration would grow. The wolf’s physical need to mate with his chosen partner would drive him crazy.

  He and Lily had barely kept in touch through their shared mind link, choosing instead to communicate through neutral territory, namely, Jack. Deep down, they both knew how exhausting it would be, but for Sean, the torment was exquisite, knowing his need would only intensify as their separation moved from days into weeks. It was like living in a long distance relationship with someone close enough to touch.

  Hunting was the only thing that kept the relentless longing at bay. He spent most of his time as a wolf, except for those duties that required him to be present in his human form. Sean reveled in the sheer animalistic pleasure of it—the feel of the earth beneath his paws, the natural scents and sounds of the forest—and what better way to patrol the Compound’s perimeter?

  The wind was high tonight, and he reached out to Lily, hoping the feel would be as exhilarating for her, but he found her mind jammed up, almost on overload.

  Sean sensed it the minute he touched their link, mental alarms buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees. A quick link to Jack told him it was nothing more than just Lily being Lily, and a rush of edgy relief exhaled past his lips. He should have known she would plunge herself into work the minute she got back meanwhile, intense need coursed through his aching body, the current burning a path across every nerve ending with each passing hour. The wolf chuffed, scraping the frozen ground with its paws. The full moon couldn’t wane fast enough.

  He sent a howl full of frustration roaring over the wind, piercing the night like a dagger. Animals, large and small, took off in all directions at the sound, and Sean raced toward the deep woods in a frenzy of violence and unspent passion.

  The wolf was pure alpha, his thoughts frenetic. The words, Hunt… Blood…Kill, rose in a wild frenzy from within. The diverse scents from the forest—fox, deer, even otter, mingled together making his mouth water, but none of them would suffice. He wanted something big. A black bear or even a stray grizzly. Something that would fight back.

  He caught the scent of bear as he raced, but another scent lingered on the air, overpowering it. It was subtle, as if purposefully camouflaged, but still strong enough to catch the wolf’s attention. With his muzzle to the sky, he inhaled again, but couldn’t place the smell.

  Unsure, the wolf postured, readying himself. Whatever was skulking in the shadows was his for the taking. Hackles up, the wolf’s black lips curled back, exposing his fangs in full attack arousal.

  Without warning, the air stilled. The wolf turned, his nostrils flaring as the largest cat he’d ever seen climbed silently down from the branches adjacent to where he stood. Cougar. But what the hell was it doing this far east? Mountain lions did not make their homes in New York. In fact, they were considered an extirpated species.

  The wolf’s eyes followed the animal, and it jumped from the tree trunk to the ground. Hissing, it paced back and forth, its expression calculating and intelligent. So close, the wolf breathed in, tasting the big cat’s scent. This was no stray venturing too far from its environs. Nor was it some random happenstance. This cat was a Were, and someone had sent for it.

  Legs splayed, the wolf lowered his head, snapping and growling in a teeth-baring grimace. “Who sent you? Why are you here?” Sean tried the common telepathic path shared by most Weres. One warning—that was all he’d give. He was in no mood to be civil.

  The large cat snarled and hissed but didn’t answer. Its curved, razor sharp claws scored the frozen earth like butter as it moved fluidly from side to side, advancing slowly.

  In its animal state, the cat couldn’t bar Sean from breaching the mental walls surrounding its most recent human interaction. Images, clipped and disordered, answered the Alpha’s question, and the cat snarled a feline “fuck you” in reply.

  The wolf’s mammoth black shape flew through the air as he launched himself at the mountain lion. Driving it back toward the tree, the huge wolf ripped and tore at the sandy brown cat, locking his jaws around its hind leg. Bones crunched. The cat screamed, the shrill sound penetrating the silent forest. It twisted around its movements fluid and graceful, even through the pain, and with a high-pitched screech, it landed a vicious swipe across the wolf’s muzzle. Sean coughed out a yelp
, releasing his hold.

  Breathing hard, they jerked apart, separate but still circling, shadowing each other’s stances. The cougar coiled and lunged, its front paws hitting the wolf in the chest, knocking him backward. With a terrifying growl, it bit down on the wolf’s shoulder, ripping through bone and muscle. But the wolf countered, twisting its body out from under the cat’s heavy paws.

  Panting, the wolf shook itself, splattering blood across the cold ground, causing tiny tendrils of steam to rise from the frost-covered earth. Growling and snapping, the wolf charged again, grabbing the cat by the throat. Ignoring the deep slashes the cat’s claws sliced across his flesh, the two locked together in a deadly dance. Blood stained the earth, mixing with dirt and leaves as it dripped from both animals.

  Yanking himself free, the wolf raised his head and howled. The cat’s head jerked to the north at the long, low-pitched sound. The pack was coming. With one final lunge, the wolf sank its teeth into the distracted animal’s throat. The large cat spasmed once, its body falling silent. The wolf released the cat’s throat. The sleek body, silver in the moonlight, slowly transformed back to its human state. The wolf howled once more, the urgent modulation letting the pack know it was over.

  He backed up and sat on his haunches to wait. The answering chorus followed by the sound of paws hitting the earth echoed louder as they neared. Steam rose from the blood cooling on the snow and the lifeless body at the center of it all. One by one, the wolves passed through the trees to the clearing. The black wolf yipped, and in a snap of bone and electricity, phased back to human form.

  The others followed suit, and within moments, four men stood naked and pumped in the cold wind alongside their Alpha.

  “What the hell?” Mitch said circling the pale body lying in the snow. “He smells like a cat, but it’s hard to tell what kind with all the blood and musk from the fight. Probably bobcat.”