4-Ever Cursed (4-Ever Hunted Book 2)

by Kasi Blake

  4-Ever Cursed

  Kasi Blake

  4-Ever Cursed

  A 4-Ever Hunted novel

  Copyright © 2019 by Kasi Blake

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to real places or people is used fictitiously. Although a real town is used in this book, names of some streets, buildings, etc are fictitious. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination.

  Cover design by Les Solot

  www.kasiblake.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  Another One Bites the Dust

  She loves me.

  No.

  She thinks she loves me.

  Trick shifted in the passenger seat and worked hard to keep from looking at the girl beside him. His gaze settled on her hands. They gripped the steering wheel even though the car wasn’t in motion. Did she know that he knew about her secret crush? Maybe a midnight stakeout wasn’t such a good idea. Scarlet, his best friend since the eighth grade thought she was in love with him. He wasn’t supposed to know and wished with all his heart he didn’t. It was possible their friendship wouldn’t survive the revelation.

  Feeling trapped, Trick used his cell phone to open his email account. He scanned the contents of his Inbox. Nothing important. That didn’t surprise him. His friends always sent texts. The only one that contacted him through his email was Jersey Clifford. Trick glanced out the window and wished they were hunting on foot instead of sitting in the car. Then they would be in constant motion; he wouldn’t have to worry about an awkward conversation.

  Scarlet’s father couldn’t afford to get her a cell phone, so she liked to play word games to pass the time. “Would you rather... give up motorcycles, girls, or hunting?” she asked.

  Her favorite game used to be Truth or dare; now she wanted to do her version of Would you rather. Trick wasn’t sure which was worse. Both games irritated him like a tiny sliver embedded beneath his skin.

  He pocketed his phone and peeled the foil back on his cheeseburger. He held the monster sandwich between both hands. Loaded with good stuff, it reminded him of something Scooby Doo would eat. He took a bite, closed his eyes, and savored the complimenting flavors. All his senses were finely tuned now that he was a vampire. He could hear a whisper across a crowded room; colors were brighter; his nose caught distinctive smells better than a bloodhound; his favorite foods made his taste buds dance.

  Unlike other vampires, he didn’t seem to need to feed on blood to survive. “We have got to find me something more challenging to fight,” he said before wiping his mouth on his dark gray sleeve.

  “Vampires might not be a challenge for you,” Scarlet said, twirling strands of strawberry-blond hair around two fingers. “But killing them saves people. Now play the game. Come on. I’m bored.”

  She stared at him, wide blue eyes, impatiently waiting for him to participate. Her hair was a distraction, and he found himself thinking about the unruly curls instead of the question. At school people who didn’t know Scarlet by name called her girl-with-all-the-hair. Long and thick, the golden waves were attention-grabbing. Sometimes in the sunlight, they glowed like an angelic halo. He had only recently noticed she was on the verge of being beautiful. Maybe that was because they had been friends since the age of twelve, or maybe it was because of her smart mouth.

  He set the foil-wrapped cheeseburger on the dashboard and considered taking a walk. It was a cold night, and the car’s heater didn’t work. Some casinos had open fronts without doors; he could catch a blast of warm air if he stood in the right place. But Scarlet would know he was doing it to avoid her. Vampires didn’t experience the cold like regular people.

  He visually searched for something to kill, anything. They had parked on a side road not far from the famous sign that bridged across Virginia Street. Like everything else in the area, it was lit up. Reno was spelled out in giant glitzy letters. Beneath it, a blue arch announced The Biggest Little City in the World. From their vantage point, they had a great view of three casinos. If he could find someone with fangs, that would put an end to the game. Unfortunately, he only saw tourists. Waiting was the worst part of hunting.

  According to a reliable source, a group of vampires gathered behind the convenience store at midnight. Whatever they were up to, it wasn’t good. Since Trick couldn’t find a stray to kill, he’d have to wait for them to show.

  Scarlet shifted in her seat and groaned with the distinct sound of building frustration. Knowing she wouldn’t let it drop until he answered, he gave her question some thought. If he had to give up his motorcycle, hunting, or girls, which could he live without?

  That was a tough one. He had a strong need for speed, he was falling in love with Dani Foster, and hunting was in his blood. Which one would he be willing to do without?

  His motorcycle? Driving around the winding roads leading to Lake Tahoe, full speed, kept his adrenaline flowing during lean times when he couldn’t find a vampire to kill. Without that outlet, he would be wound tighter than a yo-yo.

  Girls? He compressed his lips, remembering the feel of Dani Foster’s sweet mouth beneath his. After years of secretly crushing on her, they were on the cusp of a relationship. She had finally agreed to a date, but she was dragging it out. She had a few reservations: her father, his fangs, and her five-year-plan that didn’t include a boyfriend.

  Hunting? He couldn’t give that up if his life depended on it. Fighting monsters was in his blood. His father had been a great hunter.

  “Come on,” Scarlet prodded as she munched on a potato chip. “Which one would you give up if you had to?”

  “Are we talking a week?” He stole a few chips from her bag before she could move it out of reach. “Month? Year?”

  “Forever.” She finished the chips and tossed the empty bag over her shoulder to the backseat. Chip debris clung to her sweater. She brushed at them with her hand, trying to knock them off. “If you don’t answer my question, I’m gonna stake you.”

  Threatening to dust him had become her favorite response. Add that to a long list of annoying things she did. Weary, he sighed. “If I had to give up one forever, I would pick motorcycles.”

  “Really?” Her blue eyes grew wide in the car’s dark interior. She stuttered, “B-b-but you love your bike.”

  “I could always get a sports car.” Wanting to return the favor and put her on the spot, he asked, “Would you rather be trapped in an elevator with Cowboy for an hour or spend an entire day shopping with Summer?”

  “Easy. Shopping.” Scarlet caught her messy curls between her fingers and absently played with them. “Summer, for sure. I would let you drive metal spikes into my head before leaving me trapped anywhere with Cowboy.”

  Her hatred for his new vampire friend seemed to grow every day. They were like oil and water, refusing to mix. They hated each other on sight, and Trick was tired of playing referee.

  She asked, “Would you rather... date a girl a foot shorter or a foot taller?”

  The mental picture made him smile despite his dislike of the game. Scarlet wanted him to choose between dating a girl as tall as a professional basketball player or below his shoulder line. Neither appealed to him. Dani was the perfect height: eye-level.

  He shrugged. “Shorter, I guess.”

  His turn. “Would you rather give up hunting, your bedroom at the mansion, or playing games on stakeouts?”

  “Mansion,” she said without hesitation.

  Her answer stung. He had given her a key to the mansion Cowboy and Summer called home so she’d have somewhere to hang when her father was at work. Her mother was in rehab... again, and her father’s job kept him out all night. They lived in a small apartm
ent. She didn’t even have a bedroom. The girl had to sleep on a couch when both parents weren’t gone.

  He stared out the window, jaw tight.

  His eyes finally caught movement behind the convenience store. Four vampires stood together, pushing and shoving the way friends do sometimes. They weren’t showing fangs at the moment, but instinct told him they weren’t human. Trick reached inside his jacket for a stake. Before he drew it out another vampire joined the group. He wished their source had told them how many to expect.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  Scarlet grabbed his arm. “You can’t take on five vampires by yourself.”

  “Can too. I was a good fighter before getting turned. Now I’m immortal.” He flashed a grin. “And I can use the wizarding power I was born with since it’s not killing me anymore.”

  “One of them can stake you before you stake them.”

  “I can handle five stupid vam—”

  “There are six now,” she said, her eyes on the growing group.

  He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Six weren’t a problem. He could handle six. Still, he wished he’d brought the Sugar Bomb just in case. Shaped like a jawbreaker, the gift from fellow hunters had loaded him with enough power to defeat a Shadow Faerie. With that weapon in his possession, he was sure he was close to being legendary. But he needed more. He needed to start taking on vampires in large groups if he wanted his reputation to grow.

  Scarlet gasped. “Here comes another. There are seven vampires, and that one is the size of a mountain.”

  Trick got out of the car, ignoring her protests. He focused his gaze on the smoky atmosphere behind the convenience store where heat from the open door mixed with the cool air. A huge figure emerged from the fog. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. His breath caught in his throat as he thought he recognized the newcomer.

  He squinted.

  Familiar walk... wide shoulders... the tell-tale confidence of a hunter.

  But... it couldn’t be... his father?

  Ian Carver had died years ago. Hadn’t he? Trick remembered visiting the man’s grave and hearing from a close friend that Ian was dead. Cowboy and Summer both insisted Ian was buried in that cemetery.

  Maybe they’d lied; maybe they were mistaken.

  Hope built a lump in Trick’s throat. If his father was alive, they could hunt together. Ian would be able to tell him stuff he hadn’t been able to share with him before because Trick had been a child. Everything in his life would finally make sense.

  His eyes narrowed, and he used his supernatural vision to get a closer look. The hunter in question wore solid black. He blended in with the darkness. Vampires could see at night, but they had trouble distinguishing things that melded together. Smart move.

  The hunter walked with a purpose, strong and filled with a passion to kill. Trick knew the feeling well. As the hunter got closer his features became clearer. Life turned upside-down, and Trick reached out for something solid to hold onto. His fingers found Scarlet’s arm. He had been so wrapped up in what was transpiring across the street he hadn’t noticed she’d gotten out of the car.

  It wasn’t his father, but it was the next best thing.

  Ian Carver had hunted alone as a general rule. On a handful of occasions, he’d invited another hunter to join him. That hunter was Sebastian Marx, Bash to his friends. Trick didn’t remember much about him, just that he was awesome to watch.

  The vampires surrounded Bash, and he let them.

  “Shouldn’t we help him?” Scarlet asked.

  “He doesn’t need us,” Trick said, still fixated on the action taking place in the dark alley. “Watch and enjoy.”

  He sat on the hood’s edge, wishing he had popcorn.

  Clad in leather and denim with longish black hair and aggressive movements, Bash wore danger like a cloak. He drew a sword from the sheath on his back. He attacked first, fluid in motion and well-trained. Strong arms swung the sword. One vampire head went rolling, and the body turned to dust. Within seconds it was followed by another.

  Violent yet beautiful, the fight could have been set to music.

  Trick studied the hunter’s moves. Bash was good, better than Ian Carver or any other hunter Trick had seen in action. This was the guy he needed to learn from. In his heart a new desire was born, one that outweighed all the others; he wanted Bash to train him.

  A moment ago he had been bored with hunting, but having Bash in town changed everything. Rekindled excitement had him clenching his fists. He wished he was in the middle of the battle, fighting alongside the other hunter.

  Bash jumped on the hood of a parked car as the vampires rushed him. He did a crazy flip over their heads and landed on the other side of them. The guy could have been a ninja in an action film. Before the vampires could turn he killed two more of them.

  The battle ended as quickly as it began.

  Trick felt like he’d been in a hit-and-run. He wished the fight had lasted longer. Or that he’d at least thought to pull his cell phone out and record it. A video of Bash fighting would have been helpful. He could have studied it blow-by-blow.

  The battle ended with ashes raining down on the alley floor.

  Bash turned and headed back into the darkness.

  Without giving it a second thought Trick left Scarlet by the car. He ran to the alley behind the convenience store, eager to renew his acquaintance with his father’s old friend. “Hey, Bash!”

  The hunter slowly revolved. If he was surprised to hear his name shouted in the dirty alleyway, he didn’t show it. His expression was as cold as Trick remembered. One look from him could give a person frostbite.

  “It’s me. Ian Carver’s son. Trick, uh, Patrick... Carver.”

  “Sebastian,” the hunter said in a low, husky voice that Batman would envy. “My friends call me Bash, and I don’t know you.”

  “I’m Ian Carver’s son,” Trick repeated. “Can we go somewhere and talk about my father? You knew him better than me. I want to know what he was really like.”

  Bash scowled at him with eyes that could have been chiseled from granite. His facial features tightened as he looked Trick up and down. Unimpressed, he said, “You’re out of your depth, kid. Go home. Let the adults take care of the monsters.”

  The man pivoted and vanished into the night.

  Trick stared after him, jaw slack.

  “Wow,” Scarlet said behind Trick, a breathless sound. “If you want to be the greatest hunter in the world, you need that guy to move to another planet.”

  Trick shot her with a glare.

  “He is totally hot,” Scarlet added. “If I was twenty years older...”

  Trick turned to gape at her, but his gaze slid over her shoulder as he realized one creature was a late arrival. The guy was coming up fast behind Scarlet using supernatural speed. Trick didn’t trust her reflexes. Instead of shouting a warning, he teleported to the other side of her, placing himself between her and the creature.

  Scarlet spun around to stake the vampire. Somehow she had known it was coming. Maybe she had seen the reflection in Trick’s eyes or heard the racing footsteps.

  Her stake went into Trick’s back by mistake.

  Funny how he had thought being a vampire meant living without pain. Another assumption shot down. Blood filled his mouth, and agony ripped through him. He reached behind to grab Scarlet’s hip as the vampire stopped to stare. Trick didn’t give the guy a chance to decide to finish what she had started.

  He teleported out of there and took Scarlet with him.

  ♫

  Trick teleported to the mansion. It was the first place to pop into his head. Owned by the vampires that turned him, the ones that helped him defeat the Shadow Faerie, it was his best hope for survival. His current situation demanded a specialist. It was the first time he’d been on the receiving end of his own stake, one Scarlet had borrowed from him less than two hours ago. He was sure Cowboy would know what to do.

  They popped into the foyer, a
nd he fell to his knees. Bone cracked against the marble floor. Pain shot up his thighs. He couldn’t remember being in such agony before.

  Hands covering her mouth, eyes as round as golf balls, Scarlet stared at him in horror.

  Trick coughed up blood.

  She dropped to her knees next to him. Her frantic words rushed together without a breath or a pause. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Time changed... slowed.

  Odd how her voice seemed far away.

  He reached behind him, but he couldn’t get a good grasp on the stake to remove it. Wet with his blood, the wood was slippery. At least it had missed his heart, and he wasn’t a pile of dust. But it hurt. It hurt worse than the time he’d broken his leg while trying to do a back-flip on a beam like a trained gymnast. Thinking things through before doing them went against his impulsive nature. Reckless. He’d heard the word in connection with his name more than once over the years.

  Was it wrong to be proud of that fact?

  He decided it was a bad idea to remove the stake. Hadn’t he heard people bled out faster once the weapon was removed? Some girl had died after her friend took a pair of scissors from her throat before the paramedics arrived on the scene.

  Scarlet screamed, but it sounded like she was on the opposite side of the house.

  Cowboy sprinted down the hall from the living room and slid the last few feet on his knees. To Trick, the vampire’s journey took longer than it should. But then a single blink of his eyes took a crazy amount of time. He could actually see the dark blur of his lashes moving down. Waiting for them to go back up was tedious, and once or twice he thought they might get stuck.

  Far away voices spoke over each other.

  “What happened?”

  “Do something!”

  Cowboy reached around Trick’s back. His fingers encircled the protruding stick, and his other hand grasped Trick’s shoulder. He held Trick still as he pulled on the stake.

  Inside, Trick shouted for the other vampire to leave the stake alone. Not a good idea to remove it. In fact, Trick was sure it was a bad idea, a very bad idea. The wound already hurt worse than...