“There was a new threat unearthed from the magical realm.” They spoke in eerily unison, their voice devoid of inflection, eyes barren of anything remotely human. Their pasty faces were made more so by the thick cream they wore to be able to walk in sunlight. The mixture and their extreme age were the only things that prevented the sun from incinerating them to ash.
A shame.
“The witch has last been seen entering your territory.”
Witches were little threat to the pack, but something about their magic disturbed the virus that kept vampires alive. Vampires and witches had hunted each other fanatically for centuries. The only thing that stopped an out-right war between the races was the pack’s pledge to keep the peace. “What can the pack do for the King?”
The vampires exchanged a glanced, then the one on the right spoke. “The King asks for permission to send a contingent into your territory in search for the missing witch.”
Why was this one witch so important? They were natural enemies, but this was more. Something seemed off about their request, but what could they hope to gain by having access to pack territory? “Once the witch enters our territory, they are under our protection.”
“She bears the King’s mark.”
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. Ownership. They had the right, leaving him with no recourse. It gave him a headache just thinking about the chaos their presence would cause. The only positive out of the whole thing was that if he granted permission, the King would owe the pack a favor. “A contingent is unacceptable. Panic would spread and slow your search. One vampire. We can keep one vampire hidden until you find your witch.”
The vampires bowed. “We appreciate your generosity. One will be sufficient. We—”
“Have ten days.”
Chapter Three
Sweat trickled down Trina’s spine as the sweltering heat in the shed intensified. She remained crouched on the top shelf, peering through the eaves, motionless as the parade of pack and vampires slowly departed.
Three weeks ago, it had seemed like such a smart idea to hide from the vampires under the paws of their jailors.
Now, with vampires within feet of her hiding place, in daylight no less, it didn’t seem so bright. The chance to run as far and fast as she could had vanished. Tightness bore down on her chest as the invisible trap began closing in on her.
Regardless where she went, it would only be a matter of time before they found her again. She flipped the knife in her hand, end over end, catching it by rote as she surveyed every inch of the property for anything out of the ordinary. Any overt sign of detection.
She picked up the wooden stake, tested its weight and then shaved a few ribbons off until the balance felt natural in her grip.
It was done.
She’d begun the carving from a block of rowan shortly after her sister had been taken. For all her learned science, Trina should’ve felt foolish, but she wasn’t able to dispute one important fact.
Vampires were real and hunting her.
They’d murdered her parents ten years ago and nearly killed her as well. She touched the knotted scars across her collarbone and pain throbbed as if the decade-old injury had never healed.
To escape the vampires, she’d unleashed every scrap of magic she could muster. It was childlike and clumsy, her ability to use traditional magic pitiful.
Then everything had changed as she dangled from the vampires embrace, death hovered over her. Power had ripped from her in a painful wave. It exploded out of her, knocking her across the room with its backlash.
Her blood magic had been born that night, pulled unnaturally into the world. If it had not been for the attack, her whole life might have passed without it ever maturing.
The blood the vampire had consumed reacted to her call, shredding him from the inside out. The vampire had lived, but only because of his age and her inexperience. He vanished into the night with a hiss of fury, his lackeys half-carrying him to safety.
After years of being judged inferior for her lack of magic, she should’ve been happy about her newfound gift. BloodSworn witches carried their magic in their blood, no scrambling to pull magic from the earth. It made them the most powerful and the most feared.
The revelation had cost her parents their lives.
For her own protection, the coven had bound her powers and sent her to live in the human world. Trina fought the decision bitterly, but it did no good. With her powers locked to keep her hidden, she was without family or magic, helpless in the outside world.
Trina had made a life for herself, hidden away from the darkness of the paranormal world, where science filled the void magic had left.
She made a much better human than witch.
Then three weeks ago, vampires had taken Eden, her sister, from her fully-warded house.
And it was Trina’s fault.
The bindings on her powers had begun to loosen. The vampires had sensed her and rumors about her survival re-surfaced.
They’d taken Eden to draw her out.
It didn’t take long for her home to be discovered. Trina would’ve bumbled into them if her power hadn’t awoken, nearly freezing her in warning. Like a coward, she drove by without stopping. Later that night, the news reported that a fire had ravaged her house. Only the skeletal structure remained, her every possession consumed by flames. The destruction was chilling.
The vampires wouldn’t stop until they had her blood and with it, the power to wield the magic carried within. She was the last of her line, the last one able to work blood magic.
A BloodSworn witch, albeit an untrained one.
Legends said she could bring down the vampire nation.
Too bad she didn’t have the first clue about how to do it.
She remembered the basic magic lessons she learned as a child, but they did her no good when she wasn’t able to access her power. The only way she could cast a spell was by spilling her blood.
Not a good alternative.
She’d be bled dry before she rescued her sister.
That’s why she was here.
She gazed at the house they called the Den, a rambling structure reminiscent of a lord’s mansion stolen from another era. Her attention stole unerringly to the third-story window and caught the big hulk of a man staring at the shed.
From the intent, unwavering gaze, she’d swear he saw through the walls to her exact spot. Instead of fear, her grip loosened on the stake and the tightness in her chest eased. There was something about the man that exuded competence. He projected menace so no one even dared breath wrong in his direction. Whatever he came up against, he’d handle.
Even vampires.
* * *
Trina was being followed.
Fear left her on edge, but the thought of actually doing something instead of hiding sent a totally irrational thrill through her. She’d doubled her training regimen, but a human could only do so much. For the last three nights, ever since she’d spotted the vampires in pack territory, someone had haunted the shadows, watching her every move.
She’d lost the bastard on the first night.
She hadn’t detected any telltale signs of vampires, no rotting moss she associated with them, but she could no longer assume she was safe in shifter territory. Not after having vampires shoved under her very nose.
The second night, no matter how many detours she took, alleys she backtracked through, the man only vanished once she’d entered the gym. She wasn’t able to lose her pursuer, but oddly enough, she didn’t sense any danger from him.
Tonight though, he didn’t disappear.
Warmth from his gaze left her edgy and achy and jumping at shadows.
She put herself through a hard workout to burn off her nerves, but it only left her exhausted and more than a tad grouchy.
Throwing off her preoccupation, she finished her job, testing the pH balance of the pool and whirlpool and jotted down the corrections in her notes. After a quick shower and meal, she peered out of t
he blackened windows, doing her best to ignore the way her heart increased tempo at the thought of catching the guy following her.
His eyes watched her every move, but instead of the freezing chill that normally preceded an attack, a sensual warmth wrapped around her. Though she didn’t spot him, she felt his eyes caress her body, leaving her hypersensitive to her surroundings. Her blood pounded as magic swelled. Her hands tingled, and she absently rubbed them on her jeans, ignoring the magic begging to be harnessed. Fear tightened the back of her throat as the spell that bound her powers bowed under the demand. Only when the surge passed was she able to breathe again. Thankfully, the spell held. This time.
She’d never practiced magic once she’d left the coven. Part of her had fantasized about becoming a powerful witch, but as the years passed, the dream faded. She’d honestly thought her magic had burned out. That belief changed about a month ago when the edges of the bindings began to unravel. Like a scared lab rat, she scrambled to cover the signs of her magic’s return.
The terror of being discovered consumed her.
And the signs were growing progressively worse, the magic fighting her at every turn to be free. She had to be vigilant. Right now, that spell was the only thing that kept her hidden. If it shattered, the perfume of her blood would spill into the air every time her magic rose to the surface. Without the formal training to keep it in check, the vampires would capture her in days.
She absently fingered the athame tucked at her waist then reluctantly released the knife and grabbed for her wallet to pay for her meal. “Thanks, Chuck.”
The man behind the counter nodded. “You be careful now. It’s dark out there. Creeps like to hunt pretty things like you.”
She smiled at his sincerity, tugging on her stocking cap. “I know how to take care of myself.” She’d made sure of it. She applied at this gym because other than working in the lab, the gym was the only other place where’d she spent any time.
She refused to be a victim ever again.
She swung the straps of her bag over her shoulder to keep her hands free and headed out. She unobtrusively searched the shadows, but saw nothing suspicious.
The bite in the air had deepened, and she smelled moisture on the breeze. Snow would come soon. She tugged the layers of her clothes tighter around her body, mourning the loss of her old comfortable clothing.
The traffic was sparse, the streets all but deserted at this time of night. There was a scuffle in the alley a yard ahead, and she pulled up short.
She stopped worrying about being followed and focused on the now. If she hadn’t been listening for the sound of her stalker, she might have missed it.
Trina automatically pulled her knife, shifting her stance. She drew in a deep breath, but smelled nothing but garbage and urine. When she looked at the alley, the dust in the air meet resistance, held suspended like scum dragged up from the bottom of a pond.
Then it hit her.
What her mind was trying to tell her.
Magic.
She concentrated on the alley, trying to recall the basic spells taught to all kids in the coven. Like always, the foreign earth magic resisted her call. The bindings controlling her magic clamped down tight in vicious retaliation, but she persisted.
Air became thin. Blood rushed into her head. The magic gave into her demand but not without extracting its own price. A persistent ache throbbed in her head, intensifying with each beat of her heart, but she refused to turn away as the dingy walls of the alley slowly came into view.
Grittiness and trash were scattered everywhere.
Then she sensed them.
Two men in the narrow pathway.
There was a wrongness about them that darkened the air when they exhaled. Both were armed, and she knew with a certainty that neither would let her pass. She loosened her hold on the magic, and it rebounded, almost like it was eager to get away from her.
The image faded.
Black dots danced in her vision, obstructing her eyesight.
When she dropped the magic, the ache lessened but didn’t vanish completely. It wouldn’t for a few hours. She turned on her heel, intent on heading back to the gym, when someone grabbed her arm.
Acting on instinct more than any sense of threat, she swung her athame, aiming for center mass.
Warm fingers easily encircled her wrists, stopping her short. Startled by the heat of the touch, the power behind the effortless move, her gaze flashed up.
And met those of the mysterious man she knew that had been following her. “You.”
“Me.”
The man from the Den.
Even though she hadn’t seen him up close, she instantly recognized him from his sheer size. The overgrown buzz cut didn’t disguise the brownish-gold color of his hair. But it was the color of his eyes that captured her attention, and the rest of the world falling away.
Vivid green. That was until you got close and peered deeper. Near the pupil, the green color splintered to a golden brown, almost like two separate people were staring out at her.
The effect was quite stunning.
“We should go.” He raised a brow at the knife but said nothing. The low baritone sent a shiver of lust pounding through her. Images of them entwined in bed flashed in her mind, the vision so real her breath caught. He steered her away from the alley, his thumb caressing her wrist, and she realized he still held her hand.
She reluctantly pulled away and some of the overwhelming need to push him up against a wall and claim him eased enough for her to think of something other than the two of them naked and why that wasn’t such a good idea.
“Not so fast.”
They turned as one to see two grubby men, young kids really, emerge from the darkness, their movements twitchy as if strung out on drugs. Only with them it was much worse.
They’d cast magic on themselves to make them better. There was a reason that was illegal. They were addicted to the rush. They thought themselves invincible, which made them all the more dangerous.
“Come on, Jimmy. Let’s go.” The smaller one tugged on the arm of the other. The larger one didn’t budge.
“You should listen to your smart friend.” Her stalker angled her subtly, edging in front of her, his shape seemingly growing bigger.
Some sort of shifter then. She suspected it when she first caught sight of him.
The one name Jimmy answered by flipping out a switchblade, the wicked knife flashing in the light. “Give us the woman.”
Trina didn’t tense but relaxed and shrugged out of her pack. She shifted to her side, widened her stand and flipped her knife around so the blade rested against her wrist.
In answer, the big man moved in a blur. One second he was standing next to her, the next he had the guy by the neck, pinned to the wall with one hand. The other hand held the kid’s wrists above his head and squeezed. The attacker grunted and dropped the knife.
The second man dug in his pocket, chanting in a guttural language she recognized from childhood. There wasn’t a weapon to fight, but the air around her thickened, the temperature dropping with the threat. Not waiting for him to finish casting, Trina pricked the tip of her finger and thrust out her hand.
Blood magic worked more from instinct than any spells or chants. A percussion reverberated in the air and sent the smaller man stumbling back. Her magic repelled whatever he threw, blowing it back at him.
The kid screamed, clawing at his face, rivulets of blood trickling through his fingers. He lurched into the street then ran full tilt into a parked car. The impact dropped him motionless to the cracked pavement.
The silence was worse than the screaming.
She followed cautiously, stopping near the body but didn’t touch anything. The flicker of the street light cast him in a yellow glow, his injuries looking all the worse with dirt and rocks from the road caked into the wounds. When she crouched, she smelled spices she associated with earth magic.
“He’s alive.” She stood. Her rescuer stil
l had the other guy tacked to the wall. The attacker’s eyes were wild, struggling frantically to get free like a fly on a sticky trap. The front of his pants darkened with urine.
Her stalker cum rescuer hefted him higher, muscles bulging. “What do you want with her?”
The gravelly threat in his voice sent goose bumps over her arms, and she nearly tripped over the body at her feet as she stepped closer to the interrogation. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers but forced herself to listen. She couldn’t hide from this if her own kind were now joining the hunt.
“Bounty.” The voice squeaked, fingers clawing ineffectually at the hand at his throat.
“Why?”
“Scep-ter.” The guy’s face turned purple, his eyes rolling white, and she knew they weren’t going to get any more out of him. She snuck a glance at the shifter, only able to breathe when she spotted no recognition at the word. She needed more time to rescue her sister and stay out of everyone’s way while she did so. That wouldn’t happen if they found out the truth about her.
“Let him go.” When stalker-guy made no move to listen, she grabbed his arm, half-afraid that he intended to kill the man. At the touch, instant heat spread, shocking in its intensity. All her mind could see was her legs wrapped around his waist, taking her pleasure from him.
She dropped her hand, her fingers curling into fists to prevent herself from petting him and exploring further. Though she couldn’t see his face, his complete attention was centered on her. It was the slight tilt to his head, his awareness of her every move, that gave him away.
“You hold him any longer, you’ll kill him.” She inched around to catch his gaze, but he ducked his head. Trina persisted. “His death will only draw attention to us.”
“Tell me your name, and I’ll release him.”
Half-expecting a trap, she hesitated. His hold tightened, and a gurgle emerged from the attacker’s throat.
“Trina.”
After a short pause, he slowly lowered the motionless body dangling from his arm. She stepped back and swore he growled before dropping the guy at her feet.
The body didn’t so much as twitch.
BloodSworn Page 2
