E.V.I.E.: 13 Slayers, 13 Missions
Page 74
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The Slayer Witch
By Elle Christensen
The Slayer Witch
Copyright © 2020 Elle Christensen
All Editions
Cover Design: Julie Nicholls - JMN Art
Editor: Jordan Buchannon
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication’s use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved.
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Blurb
I'm a powerful witch.
A badass vampire slayer.
Not some shifter's mate.
No matter how sexy he is.
My name is Rowan. I work for E.V.I.E. (Eliminate Vampiric Influences Everywhere), and I've never failed a mission.
Until I'm assigned to a mark who repeatedly slips through my fingers.
Magic may be the only way to catch him, but it could also bring my past straight to my door.
As if that wasn't complicated enough, a wolf shifter is now insisting that I'm his mate.
He's sexy as sin and makes my body burn.
If he wants to tear up the sheets, I'm all for it. I might even be open to a little nibbling. But I draw the line at claiming.
I belong to no one.
For Hubs and Baby C.
Contents
Chapter 1
Rowan
Chapter 2
Rowan
Chapter 3
Jax
Chapter 4
Rowan
Chapter 5
Rowan
Chapter 6
Rowan
Chapter 7
Rowan
Chapter 8
Jax
Chapter 9
Jax
Chapter 10
Rowan
Chapter 11
Rowan
Chapter 12
Rowan
Chapter 13
Jax
Chapter 14
Jax
Chapter 15
Rowan
Chapter 16
Jax
Chapter 17
Rowan
Chapter 18
Jax
Chapter 19
Rowan
Chapter 20
Jax
Chapter 21
Rowan
Chapter 22
Jax
Chapter 23
Rowan
Chapter 24
Jax
Chapter 25
Rowan
Jax
Chapter 26
Rowan
Chapter 27
Jax
Chapter 28
Rowan
Chapter 29
Jax
Chapter 30
Rowan
Chapter 31
Jax
Chapter 32
Rowan
Chapter 33
Rowan
Chapter 34
Jax
Chapter 35
Rowan
Also By
About the Author
Acknowledgments
1
Rowan
I gripped my stake tightly in my hand and pushed my legs to move even faster. Short and small, I was also strong as hell. It often worked to my advantage when my prey assumed I was weak; they became cocky, confident that there was no way I could take them down. It made it so much better when I drove a stake into their lifeless hearts. The looks on their pale faces, practically translucent in the moonlight—right before they burst into flames and disintegrated into ash—were priceless.
Without thought, or decreasing my speed, I cut to the left and exited the dark corridor between two buildings before sprinting to the right. One block up, I took another right turn and flew down another puddle-ridden alley, edging around trashcans and whatever stuff littered the ground. I’d long ago learned that it was much better to remain ignorant of unrecognizable lumps and liquids on the streets of my city.
New York City could be a maze for those who didn’t know it as I did. In the nearly one hundred years I’d been in this city, I’d certainly ended up lost like a little white rat more than once. But now the crowded streets, dank alleyways, and underground tunnels were etched into my brain, allowing me to move about unnoticed. Which was ideal if you were hunting the undead.
And that’s what I did for a living. I was a vampire slayer.
I hadn’t always been, but after hiding out in this realm for sixty-something years, I was approached by a man who ran an organization called Eliminate Vampiric Influences Everywhere or E.V.I.E. Since I’d spent most of that time hating vampires, particularly of the Russian variety, it seemed like a good fit, and it was. I flourished and found a new home. In fact, I’d never failed at an assignment—which wasn’t all that surprising since the vampires I currently stalked were child’s play next to the ones I’d grown up facing. Except, Vi and I were the only ones who knew that.
I wasn’t about to break that record and give the current head of E.V.I.E.—Jude Reyes—a reason to boot me from the organization. Not that one failed assignment would give him enough reason, but I could be a real pain in the ass and sometimes he did a poor job of hiding his exasperation with me.
Despite the slippery nature of Dorian, my current assignment, I had no doubt that I would catch up to the vampire I was chasing and complete another mission. From what I knew of him, he’d only been running amok in this town for a few months. The shortcut I’d navigated would put me ahead of him, allowing me to take him by surprise. This jackass had been my target for two weeks, and he’d somehow managed to slip out of my grasp every time I was bearing down on him. Not tonight.
My full lips spread into a triumphant, if not a little sinister, smile when I spotted the lanky, shadowed figure ahead. Power pulsed through me as the magic I’d been mostly suppressing for the last century tried to surface. It rolled over my skin, and I growled at it to back the fuck off before I started glowing with the light purple aura that surrounded me whenever I tapped into it.
Turning into a glowworm wasn’t exactly stealthy.
Finally. I was going to hear the crack of his bones as the metal end of my stake broke through his ribs and the gentle resistance of the muscle when it pierced the vile creature’s stone heart. I’d anticipated this kill more and more as I hunted him, bringing out a side of me that was practically feral. I tried not to think too much about what that might say about me and focused on the good it would do to rid the world of this son of a bitch.
I was barely a block from Dorian when he stopped at the back door to a restaurant and flipped around to grin at me. Blood dripped from his fangs and dribbled from the corners of his mouth, telling me there was a bloodless cadaver somewhere. Rage grew from the pit of my stomach and my magic fueled my desperation to be the one to snuff out the existence of this evil being.
“Ti pokoinik, Dorian!” I shouted angrily. I was going to kill the bastard.
“Not tonight, munchkin. I’ve got a dinner date,” he called back. Then
he bent down and yanked open the hatch that led to a cellar underneath the restaurant. He lifted his chin in a silent bid farewell, then jumped into the brightly lit, green-tinted space below him.
“Where the hell does he think he’s going?” I muttered to myself. Another bad habit that my best friend, Violet, was always telling me to quit. According to her, my crazy was showing.
Only seconds later, I skidded to a stop at the precipice of what was now a dark hole in the ground. The moonlight illuminated it enough to see the cement floor about eight feet below me. The room was barely five by five and other than a few cases of wine, it was empty. There was also no sign of the light that had been so bright when Dorian jumped into the confined space.
“Kakóvo chyorta?” I hissed. Cursing in Russian, and the barest hint of an accent, were the only things I couldn’t seem to shed from my past life. Well, those and the amulet that I was never without.
How? How had this happened again? I shoved my stake into a leather scabbard hanging from a chain secured around my hips, over my black tunic. I spun around and slammed my fist into the brick wall beside me. Pain radiated from my knuckles and shot up my arm, and I immediately knew I’d broken a few bones.
“Gavno!” I screamed in fury.
Shit! Shit! Shit! I held my hand against my breasts and hopped around like a child throwing a fit over an owie. Which was a more than fair description considering the hissy fit I’d been indulging in when I attacked a defenseless wall. Before my hair had turned the silvery lavender color it was now, it was a deep red and my eyes, now a matching purple, had been green. I may have lost the look of a redhead, but I’d never lost the temper. It didn’t matter how much training I had in Russian fighting styles or how many belts I held in martial arts, reining in my temper was a monumental task.
As the sharp pain in my hand ebbed into a dull ache, my ire began to cool and my sensibility returned. I stared hard at the scraped, reddened knuckles of my left hand and silently willed them to heal on their own. Unfortunately, since I didn’t have a magic lamp or a genie to wish the fracture away, I sighed and stomped away from the multiple doors that accessed this alley.
When I reached a relatively desolate spot, I closed my eyes and tapped into my magic just enough to feel the area around me. I didn’t sense anyone close enough that I wouldn’t feel them coming before they happened upon my little hiding spot. I rarely tapped into the stronger aspects of my magic, something that would have appalled my mother. She had embraced our Russian beliefs in the spirits of magic such as Baba Yaga and the Forest Mother (which would have eventually evolved into Wiccan beliefs as it did for me), serving our coven and the Romanov Dynasty with happiness, always practicing and improving at her craft. Although, I liked to imagine that she would’ve understood, given my circumstances. It didn’t matter what realm I was in; I wouldn’t risk my safety or that of my friends, Violet and Emerald. The vampires who had taken down the Romanov and Royal Dynasties could never know what happened to us. I hoped they assumed we were dead, because as far as I was concerned, Roskana, Kseniya, and Emerald were gone forever, though Emerald kept her name. Who wouldn’t when your hair was the same color as the green gemstone? It would be like blasphemy.
“Enough stalling, Ro. Get it over with,” I ordered myself. With my right hand, I stroked the amulet containing a large, pink sapphire that hung nestled in my cleavage. It wasn’t the source of my magic, but it represented the depth of it. And even though it had been my own creation, I still didn’t fully understand the power it held.
Normally I would have gone to a Wiccan healer so that I wouldn’t need to use my own magic, but I was annoyed at myself for having a temper tantrum, and I just wanted to get home and pass out before teaching my classes tomorrow afternoon. I taught a variety of ages, but the next day was mostly kids and, for some reason, those sessions could sometimes be more exhausting than sparring with Camden, my trainer at E.V.I.E.
I gently nudged my magic and gave it permission to ease to the surface. Instead, it blew through me, sending a shock wave of lavender light out, blasting into every dark corner for who knows how far.
“Give an inch, and they take a fucking mile.”
Let’s try this again. Maybe without turning me into a freaking firecracker this time.
My magic pulsed, clearly as annoyed with me as I was with it. I sighed and waited for a beat until I felt in control. This time, the power trickled through my veins until it tingled on my fingertips. A pale purple aura effervesced from my body, but it was weak and unlikely to be noticed unless someone was really looking. I lightly traced the bones in my injured hand, circling the knuckles before brushing across their tops. I winced as the breaks realigned and the cracks began to mend. Just because I could heal with magic didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.
It didn’t take long for the process to be completed and when it was done, I lightly shook my hand and curled my fingers in and out to test the pain and dexterity. “Good as new.”
My magic vibrated, and I rolled my eyes. Don’t be smug. It’s unbecoming. It remained silent after that. I didn’t know if it was simply backing off or pouting, but I didn’t dwell on it. I locked the gate to the cage I kept it in and stared up at the moonlit sky.
It was a bright, cloudless night. Perfect for a vampire hunt since we couldn’t go after them during the day. Then again, when they can disappear into thin fucking air, what did it matter if I could see them clearly?
My brow furrowed as I thought about my circumstances. The frustration that had been building with every failed attempt to kill Dorian was returning, and I remembered why I’d tried to pick a fight with a wall. Dorian should be nothing but a memory by now. Growing up, I’d faced demons that this world couldn’t even comprehend. Vi was always saying that compared to the realm we came from, this reality was a complete joke. So why the fuck couldn’t I squash the parasite that was Dorian?
I needed a work out, or I was going to explode. Thankfully, I sparred with Camden at the E.V.I.E. HQ a couple of days a week, and we were scheduled to meet tomorrow. For now, I needed to try and turn off my brain and get some sleep, which was no easy task when you were always mentally running a mile a minute.
I’d leaned my back against the nearest wall for support while breathing through the pain of healing. As my strength returned, I used my shoulders to push off and stand up straight. I tucked my amulet and the small, silver cross I always wore under the heart-shaped neckline of my tunic. Then I dusted off my black leather leggings and ran my fingers through my long hair, pushing it away from my face. When I felt presentable, I swiftly walked down the passageway, back to 5th Ave.
I lived on the top floor of an older townhouse in Midtown, on 58th and Madison. It wasn’t far from the E.V.I.E. HQ, but it was closer to the nightclub in the catacombs beneath St. Patrick’s where the E.V.I.E. portal—which could take me to other E.V.I.E. cells and random portals throughout the city—also happened to be located. It was also around the corner from the studio where I taught Judo, along with Russian fist fighting, SAMBO, and Systema, but we didn’t advertise that. My mom may have been all sunshine and rainbows, but my dad was realistic and taught me to kick ass.
From where I was, it was around fifteen blocks to my house. I’d be walking into my apartment and falling into bed in less than twenty minutes. Like any true New Yorker—after a century here, I figured I could count myself among them—I moved quickly and with purpose.
I was different than others because I wasn’t oblivious to my surroundings. Quite the opposite. I was always ready and alert. Especially at night when all sorts of supernatural screwballs were out chasing trouble.
As frustrated and annoyed as I was from the events of the night, I was probably more attuned to my surroundings than usual. And five blocks into my travels, I felt a chill race down my spine. My instincts propelled me to turn on my heel and silently glide down a dark side street that smelled of trash, pot, and…blood.
“Oh, goody. At least I’m going to have
the satisfaction of stabbing one twisted leech tonight.”