The Unhallowed (Book Five in the Witch Hunter Saga)

by Nicole R. Taylor

  In one fluid motion, the creature had put down twelve vampires, and its eerie gaze locked onto Nye. Where the hell was Tristan with Sabine?

  “You want me, huh?” he asked, and its head tilted to the side like it was listening. “You tell Eleanor and her witch friends they’ll have to try harder than this.”

  The creature shot forward, its hand curling around Nye’s neck, and he was lifted clear off the ground. Without so much as a word or a moan, the corpse threw him to the side. Nye landed on the paved patio in a lump, expecting the creature to try to kill him, but he rolled over to nothing…

  The creature wailed and slammed against the window, the force shattering the glass, which exploded into tiny granules and rained down onto the patio and all over the kitchen beyond. It hurled itself inside and disappeared into the cavernous house.

  Reed glanced at Nye, a fearful expression on his face. The Six couldn’t get in.

  Nye pushed to his feet and flew into the house, following the rotten stench the creature had left in its wake. The sound of wood splintering pulled his attention to the east side of the building, and then a blood-curdling scream tore apart the air.

  Isobel!

  Nye ran up the stairs as fast as his vampire feet could take him, searing anger controlling his every move as he rushed through the broken door to her bedroom. Stumbling, he saw the creature poised to lunge at a petrified Isobel as she cowered against the far wall.

  Her gaze met his, and it was full of a fear he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The fear of imminent death with so much left unsaid.

  He didn’t have a choice. There was none as far as he was concerned. He had to save her, no matter the cost.

  Nye leapt into action, throwing himself onto the creature’s back. It thrashed, turning them away from where Isobel was pinned against the wall. It shook Nye loose, and he stumbled before launching himself at it again.

  Its flesh was peeling away from its body at an alarming rate—whatever spell brought it here was starting to decay—and he couldn’t grab hold of it long enough to subdue its thrashing. Finally, he caged its back against his chest, attempting to smash its putrid head against the wall.

  Isobel screamed and scuttled further back into the corner, her hands fumbling for something to defend herself with, but there was nothing to grab.

  Whirling around, Nye was trying to pull the creature from the room to save her from a front row seat to a rotting, zombified, vampire’s dismemberment when he saw Tristan standing in the doorway, a look of shock on his face.

  “Tristan!” he roared as he struggled to keep his hold on the thrashing corpse.

  The knight darted forward and grasped its head, but before he could twist, it kicked out at him, his feet colliding with the knight’s stomach, sending him clear across the room and out into the hall.

  Just as Nye’s grip was slipping, he felt power thrum through the air, and the creature jerked and went slack, its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. Glancing up, his gaze met Sabine’s, and she nodded once. Nye snarled, ripping the head clean off the creature’s neck and not a moment too soon.

  Tristan stumbled back into the room and stared at the corpse. “What the hell?”

  “Get it out of here,” Sabine said to them and then glanced at Isobel. “I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

  Nye cast a concerned glance at Isobel, but she was staring at the creature and the mess it’d left behind on the floor.

  Tristan knelt down, tossed the head onto the pile of body parts, and began to roll the entire thing up in the expensive Persian rug it’d ruined.

  Nye glanced at Isobel, not knowing what to say. She was white as a sheet, her heart beating so fast…

  “Nye,” Tristan said, prodding him into action.

  Leaving the women behind, they carried the remains downstairs and out onto the patio.

  The house was a mess. Gabby would be furious they’d messed up the window and the carpets of a house she’d only owned for a few weeks. Even Regulus didn’t fight at home. No, the founder had the foresight and cunning to be able to pick his locations. What a shambles.

  When Sabine returned, Nye was leaning against the side of the house, trembling with restrained fury and smelling like rotting flesh. He was covered in congealed zombie blood and guts, but he didn’t care about that right now. He’d gathered Tristan and the Six and sent them out to scour the grounds and surrounding streets for signs of the Unhallowed and any more creatures they may have created, but his mind was on Isobel.

  He glanced up at the witch, who smiled knowingly. If she had anything to say about the fact the leader of the London vampires had a thing for a human woman, she didn’t say it aloud.

  “She’s shaken up, but she’ll be okay in time,” she said.

  “What exactly was that thing?” he asked.

  Sabine shrugged. “It’s hard to say exactly, but the spell Tristan showed me… I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s dark that much I know. I’m guessing the overall symbol is of the coven it was cast by, but I’ve never come across it. The star at the base of the central line… I’ve seen it used in necromancy. It’s an embellishment that changes the intent of a spell.”

  Nye jabbed a finger at what was left of the creature on the patio beside them. “Considering we saw that guy strung up and dead as a door nail the other night, it’s safe to say he was reanimated.”

  Sabine stared at the corpse. After a moment, she declared, “I can’t tell how it was created, but it wasn’t with earth magic. If it was another element, I would be able to pick up clues… This is new.”

  “Spirit magic?” he asked, knowing a witch’s magic was inherited from their bloodlines. Each founding witch had an affinity with a certain element and it was passed down. It was a rare witch who was descended from the fifth element, which was the ether, the spirit, and it was another reason he wished Gabby was here. She was the most powerful witch he’d even known. She was of the ether and could walk within the spirit realm.

  “It’s possible,” Sabine replied. “I’ve never known a witch who could wield power like that, so I can’t say for sure.”

  “How was it able to get into the house?”

  “It’s not a vampire anymore. Death took that binding from his body,” the witch explained. “As far as I can tell, he’s a soulless corpse and can be commanded to go anywhere.”

  Closing his eyes, he cursed under his breath. Then Isobel wasn’t safe here. She wasn’t safe anywhere unless he could do something to stop the Unhallowed at the source. “Can you place a ward to stop any more of these things getting inside?”

  “I’ll need to examine the creature before I can.”

  “Then do it.”

  She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “It will cost you, Nye.”

  “Name the amount,” he said with a sigh.

  Her gaze dropped, raking over his body. “Who said anything about money?”

  Nye straightened up and curled his lip. “I do not barter with sex.”

  She smiled in triumph, and then her eyes narrowed dangerously. “So you do love her.”

  “Name the amount, Sabine, or leave,” he snarled, knowing he’d just unwittingly given the witch a powerful secret to use against him.

  “Fifty thousand,” she declared, her pride clearly hurt. “Next time, it doubles.”

  As promised and paid for, Sabine cast wards around the mansion grounds. The spells wouldn’t keep the creatures out, but if they came knocking again, they’d get enough warning to stop them before they got inside.

  It was her parting gift that had him worried. On her way out, Sabine had joyfully declared the creature wasn’t there just to kill but to siphon energy. It was just like Eleanor had tried to do to him the day Nye had killed her. The Unhallowed were trying to finish what she’d started.

  Anyway, he could no longer count on asking Sabine for help. She knew too much, and if she knew Isobel’s relationship to Alex, then he was in even more trouble than he already
was.

  In the hard light of day, the house looked like a bomb had gone off in it. Tristan had compelled some workmen to fix the damage, and for the better part of the afternoon, there’d been sounds of hammering filling the furthest reaches of the grounds.

  Isobel had hidden herself away in the study while her room was cleaned and repaired, which had sent Nye to the patio. He wasn’t in the mood to be in the same room as the human woman he’d kissed and almost killed in the space of half an hour. He sure as hell didn’t trust himself to be alone with her.

  The entire patio and house still stunk like rotting flesh, and the scent stuck up his nose. It was just another thing on a long list of failings and annoyances that had ruled his afterlife the last two weeks.

  Tristan returned later that night as Nye sat on the patio watching the stars come out. If there were a time he missed having his best mate, Zac, around, it was now. Zac and his girl, Aya, would know what to do. Aya was a witch hunter and would be able to sniff out the Unhallowed in no time. Problem with that was he didn’t know where in the world they were or how to contact them. Anyway, he was loath to call for help when he was supposed to have the power to deal with these issues himself.

  “Tell me you have good news,” he said as the knight sat beside him on the ledge.

  “The damage has been fixed,” Tristan replied, sitting a can of air freshener next to him. Smartass.

  Nye snorted, not taking the bait.

  “Isobel has returned to her room and has been askin’ after you.”

  “I bet she has,” he replied, the memory of kissing her still the brightest memory in his mind. “What else?”

  “The Six have found somethin’ down in Vauxhall.”

  He sighed and glanced at Tristan. “What and when?”

  “Another body turned up a half hour ago. Reed is there containing the area.”

  “Good old Reed,” Nye said with a sneer.

  “He’s a good soldier,” Tristan said, raising his eyebrows. “The perfect choice for the Six.”

  Nye snorted. “Give me the location, and I’ll meet them immediately.”

  Tristan pulled out his phone and texted the information, and a moment later, his own phone vibrated as the message arrived.

  “Someone needs to stay here with Isobel,” he said, glancing over his shoulder into the kitchen. “I don’t want to leave the mansion unattended.”

  “I’ll stay,” Tristan said. “I’m the only one who’s invited in.”

  “Good.” Nye rose to his feet. “See that she’s taken care of.”

  Before Tristan could partake in any more unwanted tidbits of advice, he disappeared into the darkness, bound for Vauxhall and the newest Unhallowed calling card.

  Vauxhall was a district of London that sat on the south bank of the Thames, directly upstream of Westminster with its grand Houses of Parliament.

  From his position on the embankment, Nye could see the glow of Big Ben and the shape of another corpse at his feet.

  As if an ex-vampire zombie wasn’t enough excitement for the week, another body had turned up. This time, over the site of a medieval era graveyard that was now nothing more than an empty lot with a concrete slab over the top.

  Nye remembered this place, its history having gone back further than he was alive. When he was a new vampire, he remembered this place as a burial ground for the outcasts of society—criminals, the insane, the sick, and the unwanted. They were all thrown into mass graves that now lay beneath their feet. London was full of places like this. Places that time forgot and the modern world had built over—tombs at old churches, plague pits, pauper’s graves, hospital burial grounds…and all of them hotspots for spiritual power that the Unhallowed snacked on like peanuts at a pub.

  That was why Nye wasn’t surprised to find a body with a carved up chest here.

  Reed stood beside him while the rest of the Six scoured the site for any clues they may have missed. The young vampire was fast becoming their leader, and Nye was glad he’d chosen him as one of his elite.

  “How was this one positioned?” he asked.

  “Flat on his back with his arms and legs splayed out like a star,” Reed replied. “He was in the center of the lot.”

  So they were using the remnants of energy that had been accumulating over the centuries. From the things he’d heard from witches over the years, the magic they siphoned here would be dark, the lives the dead had lived tainting the earth they’d been buried in. So it lived up to the Unhallowed’s refined tastes for pure evil, then.

  “This one is different,” Reed went on, kneeling by the body. “The star is replaced with this curved line.” The tip of his finger followed the marking. “I wonder what this one is for…”

  “I’d rather not wait and see,” Nye said. “Burn the body to ash. Let’s see it try to reanimate then.”

  “Understood.”

  “We need to stay on high alert,” he continued. “Watch your backs. Unfortunately, this isn’t over.”

  “Don’t worry, sir,” Reed said. “We’ll figure it out. You’re doing what you can. The vampires will understand it in time.”

  “Are you questioning my strength?” he asked, glaring at the vampire. He liked the man, but he was becoming much too familiar. In his position, Nye couldn’t afford to be friends with the men he commanded or have them think he was faltering.

  Reed’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  “Then you have your orders.” He glanced at the corpse, his lip curling into a sneer. “See that they’re carried out.”

  Chapter 9

  Isobel sat on the couch in her room, staring at the place the Persian rug used to be.

  When she closed her eyes, she could still see the image of the bloated corpse hurling itself across the room. The stench had been horrible, sweet and sickly like a peach that had been left out in the sun to rot. She shivered at the memory of the wail that came from its mouth as it launched itself at her. Nye appeared without so much as a second to spare before it had her in its clutches.

  Drawing aimlessly in the notebook sitting in her lap, her thoughts went to the vampire. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel the moment he’d kissed her. Almost.

  She’d positioned herself on the couch so she could see the bedroom door, which was all new and shiny. One thing she’d realized after that creature had burst in here was that she wasn’t entirely safe. A magical barrier trapped her inside, but it wasn’t impenetrable. Other things besides vampires could get in…

  So when the door opened and Nye appeared, she saw him without having to look up from the doodle she was working on. Her heart didn’t flip, and her skin didn’t tingle. She was far too shaken to dwell on a vampire’s hasty kiss.

  “I was wondering if you were going to show up,” she said, her pen scratching over the paper.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.”

  She dug the pen harder into the paper as she worked on perfecting the edge of the circle. She’d seen the symbol sliced into the zombie’s torso clear as day and like its face, she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

  “Duty called?” she retorted, glancing up at the vampire.

  Nye shuffled, looking uncomfortable for once. “I had to make sure…”

  Looking at her rough sketch, she frowned. Was this what everyone saw on that bit of paper stuck to the front door yesterday? The thing only supernatural eyes could see?

  Holding up the notebook, she turned it around so Nye could see. “Is this it?” she asked. “The thing that was on that note?”

  He glanced at the sketch and then at her. His eyes told the story his mouth didn’t vocalize. It was the symbol, which meant it had something to do with magic. It was a spell of some kind and probably one that made that dead body move again.

  Isobel sighed and tossed the notebook onto the coffee table. “I have eyes, you know. I can see things like rotting zombies that try to kill me.”

  “Isobel…” Nye step
ped closer but still didn’t move to sit down. “You shouldn’t have to be involved in this. I didn’t know… I didn’t know what was coming.”

  “I can do something,” she said, sitting up straighter. “Right now, I’m just a useless lump. A liability locked away in a corner.”

  “You were attacked last night,” he said.

  “I have a Masters in Anthropology, Sociology, and Ancient Literature,” she declared. She knew things that might be helpful or at least had an objective mind that could work things out if she didn’t.

  “So?”

  “If these witches have left a trail through story or history, I can find it. I can find out where they came from and when. Something in their story might lead you to a way to stop them.”

  “You can, or you might?” he asked. “They are two very different things.”

  “If it’s there, I can find it, but I need access.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “You cannot leave the house, Isobel. Nice try, though.”

  Her heart sank. “But I can help you!”

  “Perhaps, but here, I can protect you.”

  “Nice way of protecting me last night,” she said with a pout.

  “How do you know it was witches? Have you been eavesdropping?”

  Isobel scoffed as Nye finally sat on the couch next to her. “How can I eavesdrop when you have super hearing? You’d hear me lurking, no matter how silent I thought I was being. Anyway…” She pointed at the symbol. “Why carve that into a corpse unless it had something to do with the fact it could move.”

  Nye’s lips began to curve into a smile. “You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for.”

  “What’s going on, Nye? After last night, I think you owe me an explanation.”

  His eyes narrowed. “They’re a coven of witches called the Unhallowed.”

  “The Unhallowed? That doesn’t sound ominous in the least.”

  “I wronged them back in the early sixteen hundreds, and they aren’t the kind of people who give up on a grudge.”