Blood Lust (The Blood Sisters Book 1)

by Jill Cooper

  But Amanda wouldn’t look. She would steel herself from looking at the needle.

  She turned her head. The war inside of her might have been a movie playing out in real time. The energy she was used to, the healing vibe, was warm. It glowed as it rushed through her muscle fibers, working overtime to rid her body of the dark essence trying to take over her soul.

  Meeting head to head, the black haze of the demon essence colliding with the warmth charge of goodness. Her spirit and mind were so tired from the constant healing, the concentration, Amanda’s brow was covered in sweat. There would be no rest at all until the demon essence was cleansed from her body and if Vaughn didn’t stop injecting her….

  Amanda gazed at the door. It felt as if it was moving further away and on the other side, Amanda saw a set of wings. They must have belonged to whatever it was that took her.

  Angel.

  An angel?

  Amanda gasped and her head reeled. It felt as if the angel had grabbed her hair and tugged it back, as if she wanted to whisper something into Amanda’s ear. Images flashed inside Amanda’s mind.

  Darkness; man and demon clashed, a war breaking out. Fires raged in all directions, buildings were consumed and in the center, a pair of black torn wings. Like those of a moth who had seen destruction. The pit of hell and in the center of it all…

  No. God, no.

  Jessica’s face, but her eyes…Dear God, her eyes were red. In her hand wasn’t a gun but a sword. A sword that dripped with blood and its hilt smoldered with ash from the pit of hell.

  “No,” Amanda whispered with a trembling lip. “Help me.” She turned her head toward the door, sure that whoever was showing her the images was there. Whatever this angel was, no matter what she had done, she wasn’t all bad. Not yet.

  Vaughn gripped Amanda’s hair and the images faded. She stared into his twisted smile of hate and evil. “No one will help you now, Amanda. If Jessica comes here, it’ll be suicide. Some people,” he held up the syringe, “beg for this.”

  Amanda wouldn’t be one of them. She couldn’t be because all it brought was pain. All…she cringed as the needle slipped beneath her skin. It didn’t take long this time for the ice to race through her veins. Her thighs tensed, fingers clenched, and Amanda’s bones felt on the verge of snapping.

  But still, she didn’t scream. She whimpered, biting her lip. Her head rolled to the side, Amanda stared up at the light, her mouth falling open.

  “Your strength is admirable.” Vaughn stroked her hair with the back of his hand. “Desirable, yet surprising for someone so…passive. On the day you beg me to take you to bed; I will weep for what I’ve done.” He leaned forward and sniffed her hair, sighing with petulant lust.

  Amanda’s chin quivered as she took a breath. Vaughn vanished from her vision as something else took shape. It was darkness, and that darkness had shades of gray and black, swirling together like a neutral watercolor. The black formed cliffs and in the rising darkness, in the distance was screaming.

  Crying.

  Torture.

  She realized it was her own cries. Her own screams because Amanda’s body was burning. It might have been in her mind, it might not have been real, but it felt like her flesh was melting straight off her bones.

  And her eyes…stared straight into the pit of the underworld. The churning souls of the lost and the damned surrounded her. And Amanda thought…maybe she was rushing to join them.

  The warming feeling of her power felt so far away. Like a blow of heat against her face during a blizzard. Her power would fail.

  Amanda was beginning to succumb.

  22: Jessica

  Her sleep was fitful and the bed brought no solace. Before the sun was up, before the rooster crowed, Jessica awoke.

  The morning sun peeking over the rolling hills offered little comfort. At the bar, all was quiet as everyone slumbered. Jessica used that time to clean her guns, stockpile ammunition and get her mind straight. Set her mind right. A battle was coming, and the way her heart flipped, Jessica thought it might be as bad as any she had ever seen.

  Taking a train by force? Bring it on.

  Duncan was nowhere to be seen, not since he left her room the night before and Jessica was glad. If she had seen him that morning, she might not be strong enough to walk away. She would blush for how vulnerable she was the night before.

  How stupid.

  He better not be playing her, that’s all Jessica had to say on the subject. When the smoke cleared, he better still be there. He better be alive.

  Jessica popped a handful of leftover nuts from the counter into her mouth. The salty mix made her tongue crave a drink. She fished behind the counter and poured a small amount of whiskey into a dirty glass. Slamming it back, she winced as footsteps came up behind her.

  “A little early to be tying on a new one on. Unless you haven’t been to bed yet and in that case, it’s far too late.” Aunt Gwen, dressed and ready to go, slid onto a barstool beside her. Already her head was covered in a bright yellow bandana.

  “I went to bed, but there wasn’t much sleep to be had.”

  “Hopefully, it wasn’t that Duncan fellow.” Gwen’s mouth soured and her voice was even more indignant.

  Jessica smirked. “Funny, I don’t remember you hating him so much the last time you saw him.”

  “That was before he broke my girl’s heart.” Gwen sighed. “If he gets us through this, if he gets us our girl back, I might be able to look the other way.” Gwen sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she reached for the bottle.

  Jessica poured her a drink and pushed it down the bar to fight off the bad feeling growing in her. “Let’s get her back. Then maybe we can figure out what to do. How to get the demons off us for good?”

  Aunt Gwen scowled. She sipped her drink and rolled the glass in her hand. “A normal life? Jessica, you and I, Amanda, none of us were built for normal. We were built for extraordinary, why don’t you see that?”

  Being hunted by demons didn’t seem very extraordinary to Jessica. “Let me have this hope, would you? Let me have something.” Something? How about anything. “You want to talk about why you were so delayed catching up to us, now that we’re alone?”

  Gwen stiffened and her posture straightened. Jessica’s eyes narrowed as she watched. Gwen kept secrets, sure, but to get defensive like that?

  Jessica didn’t like it.

  “It couldn’t be helped,” Gwen said out of the side of her mouth, her lips taut together, “Like I said. Demons were all around. They had the information I needed, the information I gave you in that safe house of Duncan’s. I thought…I’d have more time.”

  She turned her head and their eyes locked. Did Jessica buy her story? Why would she lie? It wasn’t like her aunt to just make stuff up. Omissions were more her game, not the other way around.

  Gwen gave a sad burst of laughter. “Even I get pinned down sometimes. My power takes longer to recharge than it takes you to reload a gun.”

  Jessica hadn’t seen that before, she guessed it could have happened. She nodded and allowed her fingers to uncoil on the bar top. She hadn’t realized how tense she had been feeling. “I’m glad you made it out.”

  Something about Aunt Gwen’s voice didn’t sound quite right. Was it right to blame her for Amanda’s kidnapping? Probably not, but it was hard to let go.

  A door slammed and Jessica’s eyes focused on the stairs. The footsteps were in a familiar pattern and she wasn’t surprised to see Duncan appear, a gun clutched in his hand.

  Jessica’s heart skipped a beat and she was only aware she was holding her breath when Gwen touched her arm. “Keep your mind clear, dear one.” She slid off her barstool and disappeared out back before Duncan reached the end of the bar.

  Jessica stood and crossed her arms, but then she decided that was wrong, so she uncrossed them. “Hey,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Man, she was really bad at this.

  Duncan placed his gun on
the bar top. “You been up long?”

  “Nah,” Jessica shrugged. “Unless you count forever as long.”

  His face twitched with a smile. “Seems to be going around. I was staring at the ceiling more than anything else up there.” Duncan let out a long breath. “About last night…”

  Jessica held her hands up. “Let’s not. Let’s save it for later. All this anxious energy, let’s put it to good use, okay?”

  Duncan gave a slight nod and his eyes sparkled in a way that sent Jessica’s heart racing. “What should we put it toward?”

  Other than the obvious, he meant? Jessica couldn’t go there. “How about breakfast? I’m starving and we have a few hours to kill.” She steadied herself by glancing toward the kitchen door. When her heart returned to a natural rhythm, she took into his eyes again. “If I remember, you make a mean stack of pancakes.”

  Duncan snorted. “If these barbarians have what we need to make them. For all we know, we’ll be snacking on pork rinds and beer for the next six hours.”

  The beer didn’t sound so bad. Jessica followed Duncan to the kitchen and right before they got there, he took her hand. Jessica flinched, fire from his skin passed into hers. Duncan glanced back at her like he felt it too. Like he knew what she was thinking.

  Jessica didn’t yank her hand away, but it felt weird not to fight. Not to claw and be angry, but Jessica had enough to worry about right now.

  Weird as it was, the smile felt nice. Warm and comforting. A feeling she remembered from her distant past. It was something she could get used to, that was for sure.

  *****

  It didn’t sit well with Jessica to leave her car, Dad’s car, behind at the bar. Its gentle curves and the way the chrome trim glistened in the light; it deserved to launch the attack to get Amanda back.

  She loved that car with everything she had. For Jessica, it was Dad, more than anything else was. In the darkness and quiet, the smell of the leather seat reminded her of his aftershave. But Jessica had to be realistic, as much as she loved that car, it wouldn’t be able to catch a train. Worst case scenario, it would be destroyed and that would be unforgivable—especially after just getting it back.

  It’d be like losing Dad all over again.

  “Bye beauty,” Jessica whispered. “Amanda will be back, and then we’re going to go for the longest joy ride of your life.”

  She hoped her words were true. No, she prayed that they were.

  When she turned from the car, Gwen was standing in quiet observation. Her arms crossed, she was quiet. Studious. Jessica didn’t know what was going on in her head and maybe she didn’t need to.

  “Let’s pray I’m magically gifted to fight like you say I am,” Jessica straddled a red Harley and kicked it over and twisted the throttle, reveling in the roar of the engine. “It might be the only way any of us gets out of this alive.”

  Duncan and the others were mounted up like cowboys on metal horses. The engines rumbled in unison and Jessica listened to the power of their wild battle call. Jessica took a moment to center herself, take a deep breath. She had trouble taking her eyes off Duncan, even when he slid his sunglasses on, she could feel the intensity of his eyes right on her.

  She wanted to bask in it.

  Gwen sat on her bike cautiously and gripped the handlebars tighter than was necessary, almost like it was something new for her. Jessica remembered her looking more comfortable on a bike. “Couldn’t we have taken the train at a transfer yard? Surely it must refuel somewhere along the line.”

  Duncan blinked and gave Gwen a level stare, but it was Ronald who snorted. “Transfer yards are in cities. With all those innocents around? All those civilian folk? They’d be killed.”

  Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but Jessica only stared at her. Didn’t she understand what they were doing? Had she lost the mission? Was it possible that the aunt who taught her human life was paramount, no longer understood?

  If it was true, if Aunt Gwen had strayed that far from the path, then what hope was there for Jessica? She already struggled between right and wrong when it came to Amanda’s well-being.

  “We might look like a bunch of ingrate bikers to a witch like you,” Ronald’s voice was gruff, “but we care about people. That’s why we’re going to take this damn stuff off the streets. No more souls lost to demon magic. No more burning torment.”

  It was a battle cry if Jessica ever heard one. The others screamed with anger, fists were thrust upward in agreement as one by one the motorcycles took off single file for the road. Buzzing like chainsaws, the sound filled Jessica with confidence and belief. She threw a glance at Gwen.

  “Try to keep up.” Jessica smirked and settled into her seat. She released the clutch and took off after the trail of dust being kicked up ahead.

  The grace of God, the luck of the angels, be on her side.

  23: Gwen Blood

  The locomotive barreled through the desert at top speed.

  A collection of blue and green boxcars with a caboose at the end, the cars jostled as the wheels spun along the track.

  Passing by two rock formations shaped like a stack of twisted marbles, the train continued on its way. The cliffs and mountain ranges were guarded on either side by Vaughn’s minions. Dressed in old leather jackets, tattoos on their forearms or across their necks, they dotted the slopes, sighting through the scopes of their high power rifles.

  Those scopes would ensure no one got too close, would ensure that if there was an enemy, they would be seen before they got too close to Vaughn’s valuable merchandise. The goods in the train would cement his control, not just over the Midwest, but all of America. He had the east locked down, and with the Midwest looking good…

  Vaughn was powerful. His demons knew it. Hitching your wagon to him, meant survival and dominance. There were no minions more loyal than Vaughn’s, because he was a winner. A survivor who treated his demons well; as well as could be expected by demon.

  Cracker wasn’t really a good name, but despite the name, he had worked his way up the chain of command. Vaughn respected control, order, and Cracker showed him he could do the job. Really do it. Other demons listened to him too.

  He might even achieve a higher level someday. Vaughn had promised, and when he promised something, he meant it. Which also meant if something about this mission didn’t pan out the way it was supposed to, Cracker was going to lose his head and burn in hell, but only if he failed.

  Cracker wasn’t going to let that happen. He kept his men on point, focused, their eyes trained on the train. This was the last, and only position where the train could be taken. It was headed toward the station and no crazy person, or demon, would try to take it in town with Vaughn’s demons waiting at the shipping yard.

  Ready to accept the bounty.

  “Eyes on the prize, guys. We’re almost home free. Who’s ready for a celebration? Drink?” Cracker gazed at his crew, his hands on his hips. The demons didn’t respond; they didn’t need to. They licked their lips, remaining on point.

  That’s what he wanted. That’s what would get him that promotion!

  Wait a second…someone was there. Someone…

  Cracker turned with a gasp. He hadn’t heard her coming. Hadn’t even heard her boots crunching against the rock, but there she was, smiling at him.

  Gwen smirked and her eyes sparkled blue as she crossed her wrists above her head. Her fingers shone and electricity shot out in all directions. The demon’s bodies quaked and shook as they fell to the ground. A random shot fired and ricocheted off Gwen’s electrical pulse, back at the demon it came from.

  The electricity shot through Cracker and he fell. His body twitched, the pain was so bad, it was like he couldn’t even feel it. He smelled burning demon flesh and it stung his nose. His face crumpled, a silent cry, as he realized that it was his flesh.

  His body.

  He was going to die.

  He fired off a round with his gun, it ricocheted off Gwen’s electrical pulse, and shot b
ack, straight at him.

  Straight into his heart.

  Blood gushed out of Cracker and he should’ve been killed instantly. It would happen, but not before he heard the witch’s words. She bent over him and whispered, right against his skin, an evil smile on her face.

  “Give Lourdes my best regards.”

  And then she stomped the heel of her boot straight through his chest.

  ****

  If Aunt Gwen was unable to deal with the demon snipers, their plan wouldn’t work. Jessica kept going, with the faith Gwen would be successful. Her belief was paramount that once she reached the top of the cliff, it would be unguarded and no outlying demons would spot her arrival, because they’d all be dead.

  Even after everything, her aunt’s words still meant something. After all her delays and excuses, Jessica still believed. Somehow, she still had faith it was all going to work out, because if she didn’t, well, what other choice did any of them have?

  Three miles past where Gwen took down the demons, Jessica careened her motorcycle over the rocky terrain and up over the ridge. Rising in her seat when the terrain got too bumpy, Jessica turned her bike and used her foot to stop herself from going too far. The engine idled as she peered over the side of the cliff, the charge of engines, behind her sounded like a stampede of horses.

  The corridor narrowed, and this is where Jessica planned to seize control. Her face was set like stone, eyes narrowed with determination. Patience. The train was coming, and both sides flanked by Black Scorpion riders. Her friends took pot shots at the demons racing along the roof of the boxcars. The shots fired were returned.

  Was coast clear? Hardly. The hatches on the freight train top opened and demons, the source of all evil and greed in the world, poured out. It was time for Jessica and her friends to defend their people, their country.

  Jessica couldn’t think about who would be hurt. Which members of the gang would sacrifice their lives for the cause. She had to believe in her heart that it wouldn’t be Duncan. Anything else would just distract her too much, bring on too much doubt. In her world, in her mind, there was no room for doubt.