Pierced

by Keira Blackwood

  Pierced

  Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book One

  Keira Blackwood

  Copyright © 2017 by Keira Blackwood

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

  The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  23. Chapter Twenty-Three

  24. Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Also by Keira Blackwood

  Hunted: Chapter One

  Hunted: Chapter Two

  Running to the Pack: Chapter One

  Running to the Pack: Chapter Two

  About the Author

  Newsletter

  Introduction

  When I first decided to write paranormal romance, I knew without a doubt that I wanted to write about vampires. However, my first fully formed ideas ended up being about shifters.

  Now it’s been over a year, and one shifter story has led to the next, with more planned than I can write. Finally, I decided it was time to include the race that first brought me to the genre.

  Pierced brings the worlds of shifters and vampires together. There are new rules, new heroes and villains, and a new city full of characters to explore.

  Chapter One

  Hannah

  For the third night in a row, no clouds veiled the near-full moon. Its bright, honey glow brought out the sapphire shade of the sky, and beckoned my inner wolf to come out and play.

  But it wasn’t just the moon that had me ready to strip my clothes and shift. It was the icy air that swirled into the night sky every time I exhaled, like smoke from my grandfather’s pipe. It was the feeling of winter that chilled my gooseflesh-covered arms and sank in to my core. Winter was home, and home meant tearing through fields of freshly-fallen snow with my pack.

  But Scarlet Harbor was a long way from Nowheresville, Vermont. And October in Maryland was still autumn, which meant no snow. Plus, the whole point of going away to college was to be away from what was comfortable and easy. It was about not spending my entire life in a small town where I knew everyone, and everyone knew me. It was about not taking over the family shop, and settling down with a mate just because that was what was expected of me.

  Living in Scarlet Harbor wasn’t easy. Stripping naked in the city street was generally frowned upon. So was being a wolf.

  So for the third night in a row, I stared up at the moon, while I followed my roommate on a wild goose chase. It was the latest string of murders plastered all over the news that had her so worked up. I’d never met anyone so passionate about chasing down a serial killer. Okay, I’d never met anyone else who’d want to. But I could scour the earth and never find anyone quite like Ashley King.

  “The wooden stake thing, that’s not real,” my roommate explained, as she turned down a dim, damp alleyway. If I remembered right, we were headed toward the scene of the second murder. But I was sure Ashley knew exactly where she was going. She put her fist over her heart in a stabbing motion, and stuck her tongue out to the side. I smiled. She had told me all of this before, a hundred times, stake-to-the-heart gestures included. But when she got excited, she just couldn’t help herself, and I got to hear it all again. Twice as much since the murders had started. Like most people, I was convinced it was the work of a deranged psychopath. Ashley was sure it was the work of vampires.

  “Oh yeah?” I replied, as I took in the scents of garbage and mildew, rats and discarded beer bottles. There were countless alleyways just like it in the city, not too far from campus, the affluent neighborhoods, or the postcard attractions of the harbor. Tall, brick buildings encased us, each built fifty years ago or more, each coated in a film of green growth that was resilient enough to thrive in the dark. Homeless people gathered under overpasses, junkies in dark passages—a stark contrast to the small town I’d grown up in. Maybe it was because she was from Scarlet Harbor, but Ashley was numb to the poverty and the creeps that stared at us. She was fearless. She never seemed to care who was around, unless they sported fangs. Which no one did.

  Ashley was too enthusiastic about the hunt to notice that I wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation. Instead, I listened to the little noises all around us, and kept watch for danger. When on the hunt for a murderer, I figured it was best to remain vigilant.

  As soon as the vampire talk started, I tuned out. It didn’t matter anyway, I already knew what she was going to say. ‘You have to destroy the heart,’ and ‘a lot of the rumors were actually started by those who wished to conceal their true weaknesses.’ Ashley’s obsession with vampires was all-consuming, and had been since before we’d been assigned to live together freshman year. With people getting slashed up and eaten two miles from campus, she’d only grown more eager, and had conducted more research. She was convinced that the chatrooms and wiki pages online had given her the ‘real’ facts about vampires. I loved her anyway.

  “Yeah, I mean, if you completely destroy the heart, that’ll do it,” she said, and adjusted the book bag on her shoulder. “But it doesn’t have to be wood. That’s how they kill each other, you know, rip out the heart and drink the blood. But that’s pretty rare.”

  “Right,” I said. With a deep breath, I took in the cool, crisp night air. I could smell him before he bolted from between metal trashcans, paws flickering in a flurry of fear. A little, black cat. The lid of one of the cans clanged as it hit the ground, and echoed through the alleyway. Ashley’s green eyes sparkled with excitement as she scanned the alley for the source of the noise. But there was still no vampire, so she kept talking. And I responded automatically. “Yeah,” I said.

  “And they especially love to eat girls named Hannah who don’t listen to their friends.” I heard her words, somewhat, but my attention was on the cat that hid from us. His tiny heart fluttered as quickly as his legs had moved. I had never wanted to be a cat, but I envied his ability to roam the city. If I shifted, ran around on four paws instead of two feet, there was no way I could blend in so easily with the surroundings. If there was a shifter in the city, other than me, he’d probably be happiest if he could change into an alley cat. Or maybe even a rat, though I’d never met a shifter that could do either. People went running when they saw a wolf. A cat, not so much.

  “Sure,” I replied, noticing that it was my turn to speak.

  “Hannah, what did I just say?” Ashley asked, as she turned with her hands on her tiny, model-sized hips. A crease formed between her perfectly-shaped, dark brows, as she scowled at me. And I knew I’d spaced just a bit too long.

  “What?�
� I asked. Ashley’s plum-painted lips pursed. Busted.

  “I don’t get why you don’t believe me,” Ashley said, dropping her arms. “With the whole werewolf thing going on, you should be more open-minded. There’s plenty of doubt out there about your kind too.”

  “Wolf shifter,” I replied.

  “Whatever. Paranormal weirdness, no offense.”

  “None taken.” I said; and I meant it. After only a year and a half together, Ashley and I were like sisters. She knew my secret, and she didn’t care. Maybe she even liked me more for it. I knew she wasn’t prejudiced against my kind. “But that’s my point. Until I moved here I lived with other wolf shifters my entire life. I’ve met bears, tigers, foxes—I’ve even heard stories about dragons.” Ashley’s green eyes lit up.

  “Stories,” I repeated; and her shoulders sank. “But I’ve never seen or heard of vampires outside of books and movies.”

  “Maybe they’re just that good at hiding, or maybe there aren’t that many of them. Maybe we’ve seen them a thousand times, every time we come out here hunting. And maybe when we find them, they just glamour us into forgetting the whole encounter.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “I wonder if there’s anything that can stop a glamour. Or maybe just some hypnosis therapy that would allow us to check back in time, to the deepest recesses of our memories. You know, just in case.”

  My skepticism must have showed, because Ashley sighed.

  “I guess we should get back to campus,” she said, defeated. Even though I thought the idea of real vampires was silly, I hated to see her disappointed.

  “How about just one more block,” I said, and took her hand. Ashley smiled.

  “Thanks, Hannah.” We strolled out of the alley and waited at the light for the little walking man symbol to glow green. Midtown was still busy at this time of night. Cars flew by in both directions, cheap and ritzy alike. It was one of the things I liked most about being in Scarlet Harbor—a microcosm of the world, people from different backgrounds, from different places, all crammed together in a hundred-mile radius. Every metered spot along the curb was taken, rustic bars and restaurants packed and full of life.

  We crossed the busy street, with a crowd of men and women, all dressed in jackets and coats, scarves and hats. A group of guys about our age laughed loudly, and an elderly couple held hands. Skin tones ranged from pale as snow to dark as chocolate. All together moving as one. Diversity really was the best part of the city. Plus, when I’d taken the tour, there wasn’t a single scent of another shifter. Scarlet Harbor was so different from home. Which was exactly why I chose this university.

  When we reached the other side of the street, the crowd dispersed, and I led Ashley down another alley, just like the last. This one too was empty of human and vampire life. The streetlights faded behind us as we turned behind the row of buildings. Just like the last, the walkway smelled like garbage.

  Our path ended with a fifteen-foot tall chain link fence stretching from the warehouses that flanked it. Barbed wire topped its twenty foot height. Maybe it was a prison. Either way, we weren’t going any further. “Okay,” Ashley said, “let’s head back.” I nodded and we turned around, only to find three shadowy figures blocking our way. Impossible.

  “Pinch me,” I said.

  “What?” Ashley asked.

  “Is this a dream?” I asked. “Ouch.” She really pinched me. And I wasn’t dreaming. There was no way I could have missed their approach. With the advantage of being a shifter, I should have heard their footsteps. Their breathing. Their heartbeats. There was nothing. No scent. Nothing. They moved closer, three dark figures that I shouldn’t have feared. Something about them was wrong. A knot formed in my stomach. My hair stood on end. My instincts screamed 'shift and run like hell.' No way I was leaving Ashley. I squeezed my friend’s hand and prayed that my instinct was wrong.

  Chapter Two

  Bennet

  Taste died when the heart stopped. It wasn’t just an inability to appreciate complex flavor combinations, but the total cessation of style, and lack of regard for human life. Or at least that was the case with Walter.

  With thirteen deaths in three days, all likely at the hands of thrall, the situation was on the verge of tipping from complicated to dire. It was our duty to hunt down the rabid creatures before the local human authorities deemed the maulings the work of a serial killer and called in the feds. The last thing any of us needed was a fearful population and more cops on the streets.

  Walter spearheaded the hunt in a black cloak and top hat. Nothing said inconspicuous like his Jack the Ripper costume. Except it wasn’t a costume, and he was far more fearsome than any mere human man.

  Gazes glided past as if the three of us didn’t exist. We walked among them—the unknowing herd of which I used to be a part. But after so many years, it was hard to imagine myself as one of them. Four hours of searching the streets, and there was still no sign of thrall. No scent of blood down secluded alleys or dark corners, or at least no more than usual. Screams of horror were only of the typical type, accompanied by violence inflicted by one human on another. What we searched for was darker.

  “Nothing,” Charlie said, and adjusted the collar of his worn, black leather jacket over the tips of his chin-length, blond hair.

  I nodded.

  “How about you, Walter?” Charlie asked, with a glance at his sire’s sharp, pale face.

  Walter said nothing in return, and continued walking. Not that I expected him to answer. If my blood brother had noticed any sign of thrall, we’d know it.

  “I still don’t get it,” Charlie said. “If they’re like us-”

  “They’re not,” Walter replied, without sparing a glance for his progeny.

  “Okay,” Charlie said. “So if these thrall guys are all creeping around at night, in a totally different way than we do, and they just tear bites out of people, how is that our problem?”

  “We do as we are bid,” Walter said. Charlie’s shoulders sank.

  “Imagine you need to feed,” I said. “And you walk up to some college girl, who’s just your type.”

  “Uh huh,” Charlie said. “I’m with you.”

  “Then when she sees you, before you’ve had a chance to glamour her, she screams and runs away,” I said.

  “That would suck.”

  “If the populace believes there’s a killer on the streets, you’ll find less prey and more resistance,” I said.

  “Okay,” Charlie said. Then he nudged Walter’s arm. “You could have just told me that to begin with.”

  Walter ignored him.

  After another block, I decided it was time to split up. We all may have been sent to complete the same task, but there was no need for me and Walter to stay together. We’d cover more ground apart. “Going street by street is ineffective. There has to be a better way than combing the city hoping to grow close enough to sense one of the creatures,” I said.

  Walter nodded.

  “Like all three of us on our own?” Charlie asked. “How will I know when I find one if I don’t see him gnawing on anyone?”

  “You’ll stay with me,” Walter said. Then stopped for a moment, with his face contorted into a wicked grin. He’d sensed something.

  Walter raced around the corner into a dank alleyway. He froze, cloak settling behind him, and I was left to wonder what had drawn his attention. There was no screaming, no bloodshed. Only the normal beating of two hearts. The first was inconsequential. A human, with blond hair and heavy makeup. The second was a different story. She caught my attention.

  Even in the black of night, I could clearly see the long, silky, raven waves of her thick hair. With each step, her soft curls bounced, and her wide hips swayed in a sensual rhythm. My fangs drew. I needed a taste.

  We were there only a moment before she turned, though I couldn’t say how she’d noticed our presence. My kind was invisible, silent, and perceived as a trick of the eye, a part of the shadows. Yet she sa
w us. Her eyes flashed to where we stood, not past us, not through us, but to us.

  Shining jewels of electric blue. My indifference was broken, and I felt something. The sensation was alien, unnerving. She wasn’t human, wasn’t vampire, wasn’t thrall. What was she? Her lips parted, as if to speak. And Walter moved.

  Soundless footsteps fell with inhuman speed. Whipping through the air behind him, the black fabric of Walter’s cape became one with the shadows, cloaking him in darkness. The woman’s blue eyes flicked, sensing his approach.

  “I’m getting hungry,” Charlie said, shifting his weight between his feet. He cracked his neck, left and right, showing the impatience of his immaturity. “Think he’ll share?” If he’d learned anything from his sire, he should have known the answer was no.

  The blue-eyed woman squared her shoulders and stepped in front of her companion, shielding the blonde from us. A brave stance, though the flutter of her pulse betrayed her fear.

  “Leave before you regret it,” she said. Her voice was sultry yet soft, with a purposeful edge to her threat.

  “Hannah?” the blonde questioned, still unaware of our presence. Her name was Hannah.

  Pale fingers grasped Hannah’s neck, lifting her body off of the ground.

  The blonde shrieked, seeing the threat for the first time. Then instead of running, she dove forward in an attempt to help her friend. Walter tossed the human woman across the ground with a flick of his wrist.