Blood Hunt
Page 1
PRAISE FOR JESSICA WAYNE’S FANTASY NOVELS
A TETHERED DUET
“Gets you all in your feel goods.”
-BlueEyedCtryGirl (Amazon Reviewer)
“To me, “home” is a sense of belonging and being in your place in the world. It isn’t just the house and neighborhood you live in -- it is also the people in your life. Throughout the story, these characters found their home, took care of it, returned home, and fought for home”
-Deb’s hooked on books (Amazon Reviewer)
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
“Oh, what a ride! The author did a brilliant job with a first scene, getting us emotionally involved in Timothy's backstory.”
-Jamie (Amazon Reviewer)
“A hard to put down story of magic, revenge and love.”
-NanaPat (Amazon Reviewer)
WARRIOR OF MAGICK
“High fantasy at its best, Jessica Wayne effortlessly paints an epic picture filled with tense romance, rich friendships, and an explosive plot. Read now or regret it!”
-Kelly St. Clare, USA Today Bestselling Author
“This book starts off with a bang and just keeps on rolling--right to an awesome end that leaves you hanging by your fingertips!”
-Deb B (Amazon Reviewer)
PROPHECY SERIES
“Anastasia and Dakota take you on emotional read of love, loss, action, adventure and sometimes heartbreak.”
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“This book is filled with action, fight for power, and a love that can beat all odds.”
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“This story is full of action, magic, suspense and so many emotions to have your heart beating a mile a minute.”
-Bibliophile Babes Book Blog
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-Amazon Reviewer
“…action packed from beginning to end.”
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“ Jessica has such a creative mind and she always does an amazing job putting that creativity into her writing.”
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“This book was jam-packed with action and suspense! It was such a terrific ending to an amazing series! I highly recommend reading this entire series! If I could give this book more than 5 stars I would!”
-Heather (Amazon Reviewer)
“Amazing read with lots of twist and turns and everything will be revealed for an awesome ending that you won't want to miss!”
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STAR-CROSSED
“Fast paced action packed story. With complex characters and descriptive world building that allows the reader to easily visualize the story taking place this was a story that I found hard to put down.”
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“ This is a fast paced paranormal romance with suspense on the side. I can not wait for the next book.”
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AMRIA
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-Linda (Amazon Reviewer)
“Meg Anne and Jessica Wayne managed to achieve perfection.”
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SUPERNOVA
“ There was a lot of mystery and suspense, twists and turns, and tears of pain and joy, which kept me glued to my kindle.”
-Polly (Amazon Reviewer)
“I was completely blown away by this series and this ending was well worth the wait!”
-Palegarreta (Amazon Reveiwer)
Blood Hunt
Vampire Huntress Chronicles book 1
Jessica Wayne
To Black Rifle Coffee Company.
To Skittles.
And to Jameson Cold Brew.
Blood Hunt
Vampire Huntress Chronicles, book 1
by Jessica Wayne
Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-952490-21-7
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
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 any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Dawn
Proofread by Dominique Laura
Cover Design by Bewitching Covers by Rebecca Frank
Contents
Prologue
1. Rainey
2. Rainey
3. Elijah
4. Rainey
5. Elijah
6. Rainey
7. Elijah
8. Rainey
9. Rainey
10. Rainey
11. Rainey
12. Elijah
13. Rainey
14. Elijah
15. Rainey
16. Elijah
17. Rainey
18. Rainey
19. Elijah
20. Rainey
21. Elijah
22. Rainey
23. Elijah
24. Rainey
25. Rainey
26. Rainey
27. Elijah
28. Rainey
29. Elijah
30. Rainey
31. Rainey
32. Rainey
33. Elijah
34. Rainey
35. Elijah
36. Rainey
37. Elijah
38. Rainey
39. Elijah
40. Rainey
41. Rainey
Also By Jessica Wayne
About the Author
Contemporary Romance by J.W. Ashley
Prologue
Rainey
Blood drips from the tips of my fingers, falling in droplets onto the wood under my feet. The sound should have been silent, but I can hear every bead slam into the floor as though it’s made of stone.
It mats my hair and slips down my forehead, crimson tears shed for a life lost entirely too soon. A soul ripped from this world by cowardly fucking thieves who stole away in the middle of the night with the only family I had left.
My muscles burn, my body aching from a fight I don’t remember having. A fight that resulted in deaths of things I don’t recall killing. I don’t even know if they’re human or monster.
Broken bodies cover the floor, pieces of whatever they were before the only things that remain. Fear grips me, nearly snuffing out my grief, if only for a moment as I look around at the damage.
The destruction.
I killed them all. I don’t even know how I got here. The last thing I remember is standing in an alley over the broken body of my sister. I don’t remember leaving, walking away from her. Yet, here I am, in a strange warehouse, in the center of chaos, my sobs and the fucking blood dripping onto the floor the only things I can hear.
Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, suffocates me, and for the first time, I’ve lost the will to fight.
To stand.
There’s no one left to lead me home. No one left to walk me through what I’m supposed to do now.
I’m alone.
Completely and utterly alienated from a world I’ve only just begun to understand.
My sister will never smile again. Never binge cheesy
movies while we pretend the fate of the world didn’t partially rest on our shoulders.
Delaney is dead. And as I sit here, at the epicenter of death, I can’t help but think it should have been me.
An anguished cry rips from my throat, my chest so fucking heavy I can barely breathe. My shoulders slump, shaking beneath the weight of my despair, and I fall forward, crumbling to the floor. I curl into myself and scream.
She’s gone.
1
Rainey
Death and I are old friends. We’ve cried together, laughed together. Basically, other than actually dying myself, I’ve been up close and personal with the Reaper more times than I can count. Tonight will be no different.
Music pumps through the speakers, filling the club with the steady thump of Imagine Dragons’ “Natural.” The air is thick, muggy, and I wish holding my breath for extended periods of time was among my talents. Sweaty bodies surround me, the stench nearly overwhelming due to my heightened sense of smell. Add to that the overapplication of body spray—by both males and females alike—and it’s safe to say that tonight has been one constant effort to fight the urge to hurl.
Typically, I try like hell to avoid places like this since my magnified senses make it damn near impossible to get in and out without getting nauseous. I can kill a monster with my bare hands, go home drenched in blood, but crowded rooms full of humans doing dumb shit? Count me the hell out. Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable this time.
Because tonight, I’m hunting. Somewhere in this club is a monster seeking prey. A predator who believes they’re the dominant species. I’m here to remind them that hunters like me are the apex of the food chain—even if there aren’t many of us left.
The strobe lights change from red to blue as the music switches to the fast tempo of a song I don’t actively recognize. People around me continue moving, their hips rotating to a new beat. Somewhere, a glass breaks, so I stop mid-step and try to focus.
“What the hell, dude?”
“Sorry, man, didn’t see you there.”
Since it’s nothing more than a human altercation, I continue moving through the crowd. I’m not here to police the humans. I’m here to hunt beasts. Soft moans reach me, and I stop again, turning in a slow circle toward the direction of the noise. Steady thumps follow, and I roll my eyes when my gaze finds a couple having sex against a far wall. Their gasps and moans reach me as though I’m standing directly in front of them rather than a good five feet away. He’s behind her, his back to me, hips thrusting as three onlookers—not including me—watch, their own pulses racing. I can hear those too—the thundering hearts of the aroused.
Of course, I’m not surprised. This club is notorious for both sex and drugs. It’s far enough on the outskirts of the city to be virtually invisible to city officials, which makes it prime hunting grounds for Creatures of the Night. Their own Council can’t be bothered by human deaths unless it’s followed up with an investigation that might lead the Norms to their door.
A man bumps into me, his hand reaching out and grabbing a handful of my breast through the leather of my jacket as he pretends to fall.
“Woah!” He removes his hand from my body and stares down at me, a lopsided smile on his face. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t see you there.” His eyes half close in a slow blink, showcasing just how drunk he is. Awesome. Nothing like having to handle a drunk douchebag.
His hair is buzzed so short I can see his scalp, and his eyes are circled with thick black eyeliner. Thin lips pull up into a wider smile as he studies me studying him. With fingernails painted black, he reaches forward and brushes my shoulder. “Haven’t seen you here before.”
I don’t reply right away as I try to figure out how to handle the asshat. I could break his fingers, dislocate his shoulder. My options are endless in a place like this. No one would see me. I’m fast, and my increased strength would make it damn near impossible for him to get away before it’s done.
The stranger leans down, and his hot, putrid breath washes over my face, making me want to hurl for a whole new reason. I’ll take the sweat combined with too-much-cologne stench over drunk asshole breath any day. “Wanna dance?” he asks, leaning back just enough that I can see a glimmer of hope in his dark eyes.
“Not on your life,” I shoot back and shrug away. A drunk human isn’t worth my time, not when each moment that passes could mean more blood spilled.
“Whatever, bitch,” he murmurs. Anyone else wouldn’t have heard him over the music, but I’m used to it. Being able to hear when no one thinks you can has been a burden I’ve carried nearly all my life. Everyone thinks they want to know how others view them. But trust me. When you’re a teenage girl trying to fit in—this is a horrible superpower to possess.
Someone steps on my foot, a woman who doesn’t even bother to show me an apologetic glance. Fucking Norms. Not that I mind humans at all. I rather enjoy the sober ones who don’t get hammered and high in one night. My best friend is a human who likes to joke she’s the weirdest of the bunch. I wish I could tell her just how wrong she is.
With a deep, calming breath, I continue pushing through the crowd until I reach the polished bar on the other side of the room. Hundreds of bottles line glass shelves arranged on a massive mirror mounted behind the bar. The dark wood of the bartop is gorgeous, smooth. The entire establishment is top-notch and is crawling with the city’s wealthiest drug and sex addicts. Guess that’s why they charge a hundred bucks a head to even come in here. Reaching down into the copper bowl before me, I grab a handful of peanuts.
Gross? Absolutely. But it’s not like I get sick. Human ailments can’t do shit to my hunter body. Popping them into my mouth, I turn around and lean back against the bar so I can gain a better look at the people in the club. The dark blue lighting and fast-moving patrons make it difficult for me to focus much on features, so I close my eyes and listen.
“This stool taken?”
A gruff voice, thick with a delicious accent, shoots straight through me, the deep baritone making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and lust pool in my belly. Strange how a voice alone can have that effect on me. Opening my eyes, I meet the gaze of a man with the brightest stare I have ever seen. Twin pools of luminescent blue watch me expectantly, and a smile tugs at the corners of his full mouth as he gestures to the seat beside me.
“No, go ahead,” I say, my voice betraying complete shock that this guy is even here in the first place. Clad in a dark suit, he doesn’t blend in at all with the mini-skirts and skinny-jeans-wearing partygoers. A short beard lines his sharp jaw, and thick, dark hair is pulled away from his face, secured at the base of his neck with a band the same color so it blends in with the strands.
Damn. Turning back to the bar, I try my best to still focus on the task at hand despite the wall of muscle beside me. Doing my due diligence, I close my eyes and focus in on the sound of his heart. The steady thumping eases my nerves and lets me know he’s human and not monster.
“You here for a bit of craic?”
“Huh?” I ask, and he smiles.
“Fun, good times.”
“Oh, yes. I’m here for a bit of craic,” I repeat, the word sounding suspiciously like crack. Here’s hoping I didn’t just agree to drugs. “Irish?” I ask, and he nods.
“This place is fairly insane.”
After a moment of silence, the stranger clears his throat and asks, “Do you come here often, then?”
Tilting my head to the side, I grin at his terrible attempt at a pickup line. “That the best you got?”
He smiles again, showing bright white teeth made even brighter by the lights overhead. “No.”
The simple word sends my pulse racing, the confidence behind it something I can both appreciate and respect. Either the guy really is in the wrong place at the right time, or he’s a criminal like the rest of the lot. Just a hell of a lot better at it and about a thousand times more attractive. Either way, as much as I’d love to stay—and trust me, I
absolutely would—I don’t have time for it. No matter how fucking hot he is or how long it’s been—ten months, but who’s counting—since I had a nice roll in the sheets.
I turn away and search for my exit point, spotting a neon green sign sporting the four-letter word that would take me to the freedom of fresh air. From here, it would be a quick exit, which, depending on how the coming fight goes, might be a possibility.
Unlike movies, vampires don’t explode into ash when they die. In actuality, their bodies remain corpses nearly impossible to tell apart from a human. Unless you know where to look. A close examination of their gumline will show you two freckles, which are actually the tips of fangs that slide down when the fuckers get hungry.