Born In Blood (Born Hunter Book 1)

by Nia Davenport

Once the food was served, two vampires stepped into the great hall. One was a tall, neatly groomed overweight redhead who reminded Cara of a sumo wrestler. The other was short and stocky. His skin was covered in grime and his brown hair lay matted to his scalp. The ceiling opened above them. As a steel cage dropped out of it and lowered around the men, Cara became uneasy. She sensed Aiden tense beside her as well, though when she turned to look at him, he appeared completely unfazed. Once the cage was in place, the vampires began circling each other in a slow, predatory fashion. They were sizing each other up. Noting strengths and checking for weaknesses. The redhead saw an opening and took it. He launched himself at his opponent, attempting to claw at his chest, but the stocky male was more agile than he appeared. He lithely stepped out of the redhead’s path and landed a roundhouse kick to his temple. The giant swayed on his feet. The grimy-looking one took advantage of the opportunity, smashing a steel-toed boot into the front of his face. The vampire on the receiving end grunted in pain though he did not go down. Instead, he took hold of the smaller one’s ankle and yanked upward, sending him crashing to the ground. It was the wrestler’s turn to connect his boot with his opponent’s face. It came down hard and brutal. Cara heard the snap of bones breaking. Blood spouted from beneath his boot. He did not lift his foot. Instead he ground it deeper into the vampire’s skull, applying force until the pressure was too much for his bone structure to withstand. A gruesome pop bounced off the stone walls of the great hall as the vampire’s head exploded beneath the giant’s foot.

  Elias stood up from the table and applauded the performance. “A good show as always, Ciaran. Poor Hamish never stood a chance. Though he did put up a good fight. Amazing what additional strength the desire for riches can give to a man. Pity it was not nearly enough. I daresay one of these days you will meet your match Ciaran. Until then you may collect your winnings on your way out.”

  The steel cage disappeared back into the ceiling, granting the giant his freedom. He simply grunted and left.

  “Oh I hope not,” Evelyn laughed. “Ciaran is such fun to watch in the cage. He comes up with a new and creative way to kill his opponent every time.”

  Cara pushed her plate to the side. She lost her appetite before the spectacle even began. She could not hold back the disgust in her voice and would not even if she had been able to. “That is your idea of entertainment! Just because you are ancient does not mean you have to behave archaically.”

  Evelyn stopped laughing. She narrowed her eyes across the table at Cara. “Watch your tongue Hunter. I will not have our ways insulted and ridiculed in my own home. Besides, you should be thanking me for the education you are no doubt receiving. It amazes me how ignorant hunters are to our culture. How can you hunt something you do not truly know?”

  “Easy,” Cara kept her tone even and unaffected. “I don’t need to intimately know you to kill you. I only need to know enough about your weaknesses to be sure that when I strike a mortal blow, you stay dead.”

  “Is that a threat?” Evelyn hissed at her.

  “More like a fact.” Cara smiled.

  Aiden recognized it as the dangerously sweet one that meant she was on the brink of extreme violence and someone’s death loomed near. He moved to assuage the situation before it escalated further. In truth, he agreed with Cara and thought Blood Matches an antiquated and brutish form of entertainment that made those who still enjoyed them seem undignified. The practice was more common than he liked in vampire society, but Viktor himself loved hosting them and it was not against vampire law or custom to do so. While it was within his power to reprimand his hosts for the Blood Match on grounds that it personally affronted him, he preferred not to do so right then. He expected they would be in South American for a considerable length of time. Instigating open hostility between himself and the Council Lord would only impede the real reason he had brought Cara there by dividing his attention. He gently laid a hand on Cara’s arm, hoping to calm her down.

  No less than expected, she snatched away and turned her fury towards him. “Do not presume to touch me. You are as bad as they are. You may not have orchestrated that barbaric display but your sitting here undisturbed and condoning it makes you just as guilty.”

  “I will explain later,” Aiden said low enough for only her ears.

  “Don’t bother. Save it for some one who cares to hear.”

  Evelyn stood up, placing her hands on the table in outrage. “How dare you, worthless human hunter, talk to our Dark Prince in that manner.”

  “Evelyn, enough!” Elias barked. “Sit down and stop making a spectacle of yourself. You are ruining an otherwise perfectly good meal. Aiden, My Lord, please control your pet. While she is lovely, it does not excuse her not having learned her place.”

  The rage Cara barely held in check exploded out of her. Before the vampire had time to react one of her daggers embedded itself in his chest. His fangs lengthened and he lunged across the table at her. Aiden smashed into him, slamming him against the back wall. He restrained him with a hand around his neck, cutting off his air supply. “I would not if I were you. If you touch her, you forfeit your life.” Aiden released his hold on Elias.

  He yanked the dagger from his chest and cast it aside. He looked from Aiden to Cara. She saw death in his eyes if the opportunity ever presented itself, hers or Aiden’s she was not sure. Perhaps both.

  “We will be leaving now. Thank you for dinner.” Aiden turned his back to the Council Lord, retrieved Cara’s dagger and crossed the room. He held it out to her as a peace offering. She silently took. It was not lost on Aiden that the smooth planes of her face remained contorted in contempt. He inwardly sighed. It was going to be a long ride to the island where they would make their base camp with one very pissed off beautiful Hunter riding shotgun.

  Eighteen

  Don’t look down. Do. Not. Look. Down. Cara forced her eyes to remain focused straight ahead on the back of the pilot’s skull. Aiden moved into the seat across from her, blocking his head from view. He wore a teasing smile that Cara was not in the mood for. She would knock it from his face if she could pry herself from her seat.

  “What?” she napped.

  His smile only grew wider. “You’re afraid.”

  “No, I am pissed.”

  “You’re that too. But you are also afraid. You weren’t afraid on the plane?”

  “Planes are larger, they’re more comfortable and they provide better isolation from the external environment. They allow me some degree of ignorance of the fact that I am suspended tens of thousands of feet in the air and if I crash, I won’t survive.”

  Aiden’s smile disappeared. “I planned for us to do most of our travel by helicopter. It’s less time consuming when traveling from one island to another or large distances across the mainland. But I can make alternative arrangements.”

  His willingness was as much a peace offering as the proffered dagger.

  “It’s alright. I’ll manage.” Cara looked past Aiden and selected a spot above his head to stare at.

  There was a long, punctuated pause, then “I am sorry.”

  It was whispered so softly Cara was not even sure she heard it. But then she refocused her eyes on Aiden and took in his rigid posture and the awkward set of his jaw and knew she had. She smiled. She couldn’t help it. The great and terrible Prince of Darkness had probably never apologized to anyone for anything in his life. “That looks like it hurt,” she said smugly.

  Aiden was taken aback by the genuineness in her smile. The one he normally saw was the fury-induced psychopathic smile she treated those who unwisely antagonized her to right before she buried a blade in them. The smile he saw now was authentic and subtle and beautiful and he decided that he would like to see it more. It was infectious so he decided to play along. He shuddered very exaggeratedly. “You have no idea how much. How about you kiss me and make it better?”

  Damn this particular vampire to hell. All he had to do was say the word kiss and visions of his lips
claiming hers danced through her head. Her hands itched to reach out and touch him. Her own lips tingled in anticipation of what his would feel like against them. She wondered how he would taste. Her body threatened action, but she forcefully clamped down tight on the unwanted urges before she could do something foolish. “I’ll pass.”

  “For now.” His eyes sparked with recognition.

  “I am still waiting on you to explain yourself,” Cara demanded.

  Aiden should have been offended. He normally would have been. After all, he was the heir to the dark throne and Enforcer of the law and their Sovereign’s will. It was not by coincidence that he was so often referred to as His Grace. It was not an arbitrary title of reverence that his people had given him. It was literally by his grace that those unfortunate enough to warrant his interest lived and died. There were very few people Aiden felt obligated to explain himself to. There were even fewer that had enough gall to demand it of him and even fewer still that Aiden would actually oblige. For some reason the hunter before him now increased all of those lists by one. “ We used to be organized into an even stricter hierarchy than we are today. There was a Sovereign and a ruling upper class that was referred to as the Elite. They consisted of a small, collective few who hoarded all of the power and wealth for themselves. Those not part of the Elite were servants and slaves to them. They were a sadistic bunch, who reveled in inflicting pain and torture on others, especially those too weak to defend themselves. The blood matches arose as another means to do just that. They forced both their servants and slaves to fight in them. The fights were always to the death and the more gruesome and more bloody they were the better. In fact, if the Elites hosting the match deemed they were not sufficiently entertained by it, they would kill the victor in punishment. The penalty for refusing to fight was death. Though not just for the individuals elected to fight. That wouldn’t have been a sufficient enough threat for one of the two was guaranteed to die anyway. The penalty was death for the vampire refusing as well as death for his mate, his children, and anyone else he held dear. It was a barbaric practice and it still is. We are not the uncivilized creatures we once were. A practice as firmly rooted in our Dark Ages as blood matches should not be still commonplace among my kind. Those who support it try to excuse it by calling it a spectator sport and insisting that no one is made to fight in them. Everyone who fights does so of their own accord for the generous winnings they stand to collect if they win. Still it is not far removed from the practice of old. Those who host them are the ones with the wealth and means to do so while most who fight in them are just as poor and in need of money as their past counterparts, otherwise they would not elect to do so. We may be predators but we are not animals. The entire practice is uncivilized. However, the majority of vampires, including my father, do not share my opinion so they have remain legal.”

  “So why did you just sit and watch the match at Elias’?”

  “As I said it is not illegal so I could have only objected to it on the grounds that it personally insulted me. Which it did, but if I had done that it would have caused tensions between Elias and myself, which I can handle but cannot afford at the moment. The wolves pose too great a threat to have my attention diverted.”

  Cara nodded her head in silent understanding. She agreed with tracking the wolves being the priority, though for a very different reason. She did not give a damn what threat may be looming over the vampires. She could wake up tomorrow morning and find their existence erased from the world and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash. She did however care about finally getting some real answers to her father’s murder.

  Nineteen

  It apparently was not enough for Aiden to have a private island to call his own. It had to be named after him too. Isla Verde is what he had called it. Cara knew the moment she looked out over the canopy that the islands' moniker was not by coincidence. The same unnatural shade of green that colored his irises shone brightly under the moonlight. She looked at Aiden to confirm her suspicions and his eyes were awash in arrogance. Conceited bastard. She would not give him the satisfaction of commenting on the island's breathtaking beauty. And she certainly would not give him the satisfaction of commenting on the electric pull of his emerald gaze. She gave him her best unimpressed stare. "After you, Your Darkness."

  They walked toward the massive structure he called a house. Not. Villa, Estate, Mansion, Compound. None of those words accurately described it either. The residence was four stories high with an additional subterranean level and it spanned out about a quarter of a mile long. Baby castle would have been a more accurate description. The door opened without Aiden needing to knock. A tall slender vampire greeted them. His posture was so perfect he stood more erect than the fancy guards stationed outside of Buckingham Palace.

  "Welcome home, my Liege." He bent at the waist then up righted himself. He ushered Aiden and Cara in through the door. "Your rooms have been prepared for you and your luggage deposited in them." His gaze flicked to Cara. "Welcome Hunter." He dipped his head in a slight acknowledgement of respect. Cara was shocked she got that much from the vampire. "I was unsure where the lady would be staying. I had one of the guest suites on the 2nd floor prepared. Will that be sufficient?"

  Aiden eyed her. "Sure you don't want to share my quarters? I promise not to bite...unless you say please."

  "Ask me that question again when hell is freezing over. You might get the answer you're fishing for." Cara could have sworn she saw corners of the stoic butler's lips twitch in amusement. Could he have a chink in his armor?

  "Do you knit?" Aiden asked her.

  Cara placed her hands on her hips. "Do I look like I knit?" She was truly offended.

  “Actually the thought of you in any domestic capacity is laughable. But I can get you a needle and some lessons. I hope you're a fast learner."

  "Have you gone insane? What are you talking about?"

  "I'm just thinking about all the sweaters you are going to have to knit to keep the denizens of hell warm."

  Oh brother. "You really are dense." She turned to the butler. "The room on the second floor will be fine."

  "No it will not," Aiden interrupted her. "Have a guest suite on the 4th floor prepared and have her things moved from the 2nd floor to there."

  "That’s absurd. Why would you make people do extra work when a perfectly good room has already been prepared for me?”

  He shrugged his shoulders unapologetically. "That's the fun thing about having a house staffed with servants. My wishes are their command."

  "You're an ass," she told him.

  "And yours is sweet."

  She turned away from him in an exasperated huff. "Would you please show me to my rooms..." She paused waiting for a name.

  The butler smiled as if genuinely pleased by the courtesy. "James," he said. "And it would be my pleasure." He turned on his heels and she followed him down the hall.

  Cara stretched out on an armoire and rested her eyes while the staff changed the linen in the room, made sure it was fully stocked with any necessities and brought her luggage up. Once they were gone and she was in blessed silence, she peeled her clothes off, showered and fell face first into the bed. She drifted into a much needed sleep. Though as always, she fitfully tossed and turned the entire time. Dreams of blood stained sand and corpses washing ashore were so commonplace it would have been unusual had she not dreamed a dream of horrors.

  ---

  She slept well into the day. Hunting vampires accustomed you to being on the same wake/sleep schedule as them. Most of their activity was conducted at night so much of Cara's was as well. She would have slept even later than she did but rumblings in her stomach interrupted her slumber. There was a note on the phone resting on the bedside table that said call for breakfast so she did just that. Though technically she was calling for a late lunch. While she waited for the food she finally took in the room around her. She had been too tired to focus on anything but sleep the night before. When Aiden referred to the s
pace she was staying in as a guest suite, he was not exaggerating. It would easily fit 3 of her bedrooms inside it and probably 4 of her bathrooms. It featured a main room with a giant sized plush bed in the center. It's pillow top mattress was held up my an antique four poster wrought iron bed. Off to the main room was a sitting room that held the champagne colored armoire she stretched out on the night before. The bathroom set on the opposite end and it was pure heaven. There was a large oval claw-footed tub in the middle of it, a marble glass shower off to the side and a toilet that cleaned your personal parts for you. If she could take the bathroom home with her in her suitcase she would. She might even have to upgrade her own once she got back to Manhattan.

  Speaking of which, she unpacked her laptop and used the videoconferencing feature to call Reiya. Her cell phone had spotty reception.

  She picked up on the first ring. "Thank God it's you. I was beginning to get worried. How are things going down there?”

  Cara shrugged. “So far, uneventful. We flew into Ecuador, I accompanied Aiden to dinner with the South American Council Lord and his mate. He’s a douche by the way and she’s a bitch. They served us dinner and treated us to a show. I stabbed him in the chest and threatened to carve out her heart, then we left. We flew to Aiden’s private island and I slept like the dead.”

  Reiya’s eyes were bulging out of her head by the time she finished. “Wait, wait, wait. You stabbed the Council Lord of South America in the chest and you threatened his mate!”

  “Didn’t you hear the part about him being a douche and her being a complete bitch?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “You are absolutely psychotic! If this promotion doesn’t kill me, worrying about you surely will!”

  “Relax. I could take both him and her with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “And the vampire’s Sovereign, Lord Viktor, could you take him too? Rumor has it Elias is one of his favorites on his Council.”