Young Blood (A Witch Hunter Saga Novella)

by Nicole R. Taylor

  “I found her,” Will muttered. “I found her dying.”

  The blood began to drain from Sam’s face. They never found the vampire that turned Liz. “You…”

  “I heard someone coming, you.” He jabbed a finger at Sam. ”And I couldn't stay. I couldn't let you see me. I compelled her to forget and I watched you take her from me.”

  “I took her from you?”

  “I saved her from death. I saved her-”

  “You created a vampire and just left. You wanna talk about responsibility? What do you think would've happened if I wasn't there to help her? How do you think she would've handled the cravings? The sun?”

  “She was mine!”

  Sam blinked hard, clenching his fists. “What did you just say?”

  “She was mine and you took her from me,” Will snarled, his eyes beginning to change. “I was the one who saved her from the werewolves that you drew to Ashburton. If it wasn't for you then she would be mine.”

  Sam drew in a sharp breath. Had he been watching her? Conspiring to kidnap her and change her into a vampire against her will? It was the same thing that had happened to Zac all those years ago. Victoria had watched him from afar and the moment he'd been left for dead, she swooped in and took her prize. What resulted was nothing short of torture. Zac still suffered from the things that woman did to him and it was the reason he'd gone off with Regulus to either find his peace or die. If Liz had suffered the same fate…the thought made him sick.

  “She is not a possession,” Sam roared. “She is free to do as she pleases and I will not let her go with you. Not after you changed her against her will.”

  “She was dying. What was I supposed to do? They were always dying...”

  “What? Have you done this before?”

  “I save them and give them a gift. Don't you see? She was the one who would've stayed with me. Her and I for eternity.”

  Suddenly, Sam remembered the story Zac had told him all those months ago when Morgan appeared out of nowhere. The woman from his past that he'd never told him about. The woman who'd found his brother by a dark road in France during the Second World War and brought him back from the brink of insanity. The woman who'd been saved from death by a vampire named…Will.

  His eyes widened at the realization. “Morgan…”

  “Morgan…” Will drawled.

  “Nineteen forties, London. Did you turn a nurse?”

  Will regarded him for a moment.

  “Did you know Morgan?”

  The vampire shook his head. “She wasn't the one.”

  “You turned her?”

  “I suppose I did. She was dying much the same way as Liz had been.”

  “You cared for her then,” Sam said. “You taught her.”

  “She taught herself. She wasn't the one I was looking for.”

  “The one what?” As he asked the question, he knew the answer. Just as there were psychopaths in the human world, so were there in the vampire one. It wasn't black and white, not by a long shot. How many other woman had he done this to? How many had suffered and died? How many had been turned and left to fend for themselves? How many innocents had died because of this mentally unstable menace?

  Will shuffled forward, a unhinged gleam in his eyes. “Liz is the one and I won't let you take her from me again.”

  “How old are you?” Sam asked, stalling.

  “What's it to you?”

  “Everything.”

  The vampire took the bait and gave him the information he wanted. “Nineteen hundred I was turned. And you?”

  “Me? Eighteen sixty-five asshole,” he snarled. Grabbing the vampire around the neck, he hurled him across the alley. There was a bang that sounded like a gunshot as the vampire hit the corrugated iron fence and fell face first onto the asphalt.

  Somewhere in the distance a dog started barking and Sam knew he only had a few minutes to get this done before the cops showed up. As Will tried to get to his feet, he was on top of the vampire. With one fluid motion, Sam snapped his neck and let his limp body fall back to the ground.

  Staring down at the psychopath that almost took the love of his eternity away from him, he wondered what kind of mercy he deserved. He could just stake him right now and be done with it because death was the only way this was ending. Sam shook his head. No, staking him would be too quick. He had something a lot more fitting in mind. Without breaking stride, he hauled the vampire's body and stuffed him into the trunk of his car.

  There was a particularly warm spot in hell for guys like Will.

  When Sam got back to the apartment it was already dark and Liz was asleep on the sofa. She’d obviously gotten up sometime during the day, decided to wait for him and fell asleep in the process.

  Perching beside her, he ran a hand over her blonde hair. She was precious to him. He’d do whatever it took to protect her over and over again. No regrets.

  She stirred, her eyes cracking open.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Sorting out a few things.”

  She sat up, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. “Sorting out Will, right?”

  Sam knew he had to tell her the truth. After everything they’d been through together, here and back in Ashburton, she had the right to know about the circumstances that made her the way she was.

  “Liz, he was watching you. That day in the bayou.”

  “Will…” She began to pale.

  “Turned you. He admitted it to my face.”

  She stared at him with clear blue eyes, disbelief flooding her pretty features. “But-”

  “Do you really want to know more?”

  “Yes. Sam, what was going on? What-”

  “He thought you were his. Because he turned you…”

  “I was his? Like some kind of property?” Her fingers curled into his T-shirt, like she had to hold onto something or break the apartment into tiny pieces.

  “He’d been watching you,” Sam said, his jaw stiff. “Before, when you were still human. He wanted to make you his, the werewolves just sped up the process. He was pissed with me for taking you from him.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “He couldn’t do anything while Zac and I were with you and I seriously doubt anything he ever told you was true.”

  “He was working me?”

  Sam nodded. “He almost fooled me, too.”

  “Do you think he would’ve…” She paused, gesturing at her chest.

  “Staked me?” Sam shrugged. “Probably.”

  “No.”

  “That’s not all,” he said.

  “There’s more?”

  “Will was the one who turned Morgan. He turned her for the same reason. He ditched her because she wasn’t 'the one'.”

  Liz’s hand came up to cover her mouth. “Oh my god.”

  “Liz, some vampires don’t adjust as well as others…”

  “He was insane, right? Not just regular crazy...special vampire crazy, right?”

  He nodded, watching Liz’s changing expression. It went through shock, surprise, anger, horror and settled into something he couldn’t understand. It would take her a while to process.

  “I checked in on Francie,” he said, pulling her into his side.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She's fine and none the wiser.”

  Liz covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe…”

  Sam knew as well as the next vampire how things got to them more than when they were human. Liz’s guilt was eating her from the inside out to the point it was crippling her. She was so good and pure, seeing her like this hurt his heart.

  “Everything is okay now,” he murmured into her hair.

  “I could’ve killed her.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “This time,” she cried. “What if you’re not there one day and-”


  “Shhh,” he crooned. “None of us had complete control from day one, let alone two years later. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Francie is fine.”

  Liz shifted against him, raising her head. “I get it. We’re still monsters inside, no matter how human we want to be.”

  It was a hard truth to swallow, but it was true. They might look the same, feel the same…but inside? They were different.

  “Where's Will now?”

  Sam shrugged. “He's not going to hurt you again.”

  “Sam, what did you do?”

  He turned and grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me, Liz. He is not going to hurt you again. I dealt with it. That's all you need to know.”

  He saw the disbelief in her eyes and it broke his heart that she suspected what he'd done. Following through on threats was his brother's specialty, not his. He was meant to be the good brother, but even he knew that sometimes extreme measures were needed to protect the people you love.

  He didn't regret it. Not for one second.

  “Okay.” Liz nodded. “Okay.”

  At first, Will didn't understand where he was. As he came to, he stared up at the lightening sky, thousands of starts twinkling above.

  It wasn't until he tried to move, he realized he couldn't. Pain splintered through his entire body. Through his hands and feet, through his stomach and knees. Angling his head up, he saw he was impaled with several wooden stakes. Crucified, skewered like a live voodoo doll. No guesses who'd deigned to give him such special treatment.

  He was in the desert somewhere outside of LA. He could smell the scent of sun and sand on the air, baked earth and the animals that prowled the night. He'd been dumped in the desert like a corpse.

  Sunrise was close. Trying one hand, he cried out as wood scraped against flesh and bone. It would take him hours to free himself and by the time he healed... When he got his hands on him, he would tear Sam's head off. He would...

  Tendrils of smoke began to rise from his exposed skin and his eyes widened in shock. No, it couldn't happen. It couldn't. There was a witches web weaved over his body. He couldn't burn.

  As the sunrise crept further and further over the horizon, the closer he came to his body hitting direct sunlight. He felt hot, too hot.

  “No!” He roared his anger to the empty desert, thrashing against his restraints.

  Even if he broke free...there was nowhere to go out here. Nowhere to hide from the sun. He was done.

  Liz was the one, she was his eternity. After so long searching, after so many failures, he'd found her. Sam Degaud would pay. He would haunt his afterlife with all the hate he could muster. In the afterlife, he would have his revenge.

  As the sun finally clawed its way across his skin, pain erupted, searing as he burst into flames.

  Chapter 10

  Four months later...

  * * *

  “Sam!” Liz exclaimed as he ticked her with a blade of grass.

  They were sitting in the middle of the greenest, sunniest patch of grass on the whole UCLA campus, surrounded by books and a semesters worth of notes. Liz was trying to study for her last final, Literature strangely enough. She'd been oh so lucky to have the very last final scheduled in the whole College. Most students were already done and packing up for the holidays.

  “Literature is your best class,” Sam said, tossing the piece of grass aside.

  “I still have to study,” she scolded him. “I'm not a know it all like you.”

  “Hey.”

  It had been four months to the day since everything happened with Will. That night at the Halloween party seemed like an age ago, and everything that had happened after...that seemed like an even more distant memory. Things were good between them again. More than good, they were unbelievable. He loved her so much.

  Shaking his head, Sam stilled, feeling something strange in the air. Glancing up, he cast his gaze around the quadrangle. It didn't take him long to see the dark figure leaning against a tree like a cocky son of a bitch. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

  Shooting to his feet, Liz's books scattered and she cried out, but he only had eyes for the one person he thought he'd never see again...this decade at least.

  Approaching his big brother, a stupid grin spread across his face. As Zac came to meet him, they threw their arms around each other.

  “Zac.”

  “Little brother.”

  Sam drew back and looked him over. “I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. At least not this decade. How are you?”

  “Better than ever.”

  “Aya?”

  Zac gestured behind him, where the raven-haired hybrid sat on a bench. She raised a hand to give him a little wave and Sam shook his head. Of course.

  “You guys finally worked it out?” he asked.

  “Not without some melodrama.” Zac threw an arm around Sam's shoulder as they crossed the lawn towards Liz, who was gaping open mouthed at them.

  “There's always melodrama with you. Where have you been?”

  “Brother,” Zac said, shaking his head. “Have I got a story to tell you.”

  “You've got a story? Wait until you hear about what Liz and I have been doing.”

  * * *

  The End.

  Other Books in The Witch Hunter Saga

  When a witch threatens to destroy him, vampire Zac Degaud can’t bear the thought of dying a second time. Witch Hunter Aya is the only one who can help — and she’s not so sure she wants to. At least not until Zac proves he’s worth saving…

  Enter a world full of supernatural creatures, ancient curses and love that stretches over hundreds and thousands of years. You've never seen vampires and witches like this before...

  The Witch Hunter <—FREE!

  The Return

  The Shadow’s Son

  The Awakening

  Young Blood

  The Unhallowed

  * * *

  …and more to come!

  The Unhallowed

  Book Five in The Witch Hunter Saga

  The King is dead…Long live the King.

  * * *

  Nye Saer is four hundred year old vampire. Bad guy, one time leader of the notorious Six who's trying to turn over a new leaf and grow a heart.

  With all six Roman founders dead and gone, it's up to him to bring order back to the London underworld, but there's one problem. They don't fear him as much as they should.

  Isobel is the human sister of the newborn founder Alex…and you never want to mess with a founding vampire, no matter how good they claim to be. When she turns up on his doorstep, Nye has to go against everything he is in order to protect her from his enemies. But when strange markings begin to appear all over London, unrest amongst the vampires and his conflicting concern over Isobel will be the least of Nye's problems. He's seen the symbols before and there's only one thing it could mean.

  The Unhallowed are back...and they're not happy.

  * * *

  The Unhallowed is out in 2016!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek…

  * * *

  Prologue

  * * *

  York, England

  1603

  * * *

  Nye Saer leaned against the fence outside of York Minster, watching the stream of nobles done up in their winter finery enter the church for Sunday mass. The cathedral spire towered into the mist, the tip vanishing into the dense fog, but it only reminded him of the specter he'd become.

  In the distance he could see a group of peasants trudging through the mud, all of them making their way toward the smaller church on the edge of town past the green. York Minster was reserved for those with titles and wealth, no matter the doctrine of God.

  "My Lord, the service starts soon."

  He looked up to see his faithful companion, Lewes, wringing his hands together nervously. He was only faithful because he made him that way. He had neither the time nor inclination to win him over the right way, so he compelled the man to giv
e him a friendly helping hand.

  "I care not," he replied. "I don't believe in your god, Lewes. He wasn't around to save me when I needed saving."

  He'd been a vampire for thirteen miserable years. A wretched thing that clung to shadows and prayed on the unwary. He'd been a slave to the night for a decade before he even found a witch who could help him feel the sun against his dead skin once more. A decade of darkness. Not that the light had made him fare any better. There was no God. Not in his world.

  For all the bad things that he had been changed into, there were many good things. His body was perfect, despite the scar that marred his face. From the top of his right temple, across the bridge of his nose and down his left cheek, a puckered gash severed his face, marking him as an undesirable. Unfortunate, considering he'd gotten it fighting for the English Crown against the Spanish Armada some fifteen years before when he was still human. Despite his features, he was stronger than he'd ever been, faster and hardly tired at all. He was fuelled by blood and soothed by alcohol.

  Casting his gaze over the fog laden village square, he felt her coming before he even knew the direction. He hoped she'd come today, perhaps it was foolish considering his circumstance, but he wanted it anyway.

  Finally, she emerged from the mist, her delicate form wrapped tight in a dark cloak, her skirts trailing in the slush of last night's snowfall. He knew her name quite well. Eleanor. Eleanor, who wanted to love a vampire. She had chosen him, but in her lust had neglected to tell him about her coven.

  "Lewes," he said. "Go to church and say your prayers. I will come and collect you when the sermon ends...if I am still alive to do so."

  "But my Lord—"