Unleashing Vampires: A paranormal revenge novel (Unleashing Series Book 2)

by C. J. Laurence

  Borvil peered at me, his nose almost touching mine. “You lie.”

  “I do not.”

  “But that would mean…” he turned his back on me for a few seconds then turned back around, his chin caught between his thumb and forefinger “…that would mean you’re from one of the four families.”

  “What four families?”

  “There are four witch families whose blood is said to descend from the greatest witches from the dark ages. Rumours have banded about for centuries about the elementals descending from them but with marriages and name changes and people going into hiding, it’s been impossible to trace individuals all the way back to specific bloodlines.”

  My mouth dropped wide open. “You have got to be kidding me? What are the four families?”

  “The Sampson’s, the Whittle’s, the Redferne’s and the Kyteler’s.”

  I frowned. “Sampson. I’ve heard that name before…”

  “Agnes Sampson. She was a reported witch who was burned at the stake in 1591.”

  “The others?”

  “The Whittle’s and the Redferne’s were part of the Pendle witch trials that took place in Lancashire in 1612. They were all accused of murder, along with a few others. They were hung rather than burned.”

  “And the other one?”

  “Kyteler. Specificlly, Alice Kyteler. Yes, she was a curious one. She’s reportedly from Ireland. That is where true magick lies, in the Emerald Isle. Alice reportedly had a history of husband’s dying in mysterious circumstances. When people accused her of witchcraft, she fled to England. Some reports say she died, others say she disappeared. I go with the last theory.”

  “But if all these people died, how are there descendants from their bloodlines?”

  “You think people with powers like theirs would just let themselves be arrested and killed?” He snorted. “So long as someone died in front of a bloodthirsty crowd, it didn’t matter who.”

  “So they all escaped?”

  “Where it concerns those four families, yes. Survival of the fittest and all that.”

  “And you think Abaddon chooses people from their bloodlines to reproduce elementals?”

  “If you’re saying he’s the father, then yes, it makes sense.”

  “How does it?”

  “Because they’re the most powerful bloodlines. The question is more why he wants to reproduce with witches and what purpose the elementals have exactly.”

  “So when it comes to getting revenge on my bitch of a sister, how am I supposed to restrain her if she’s got all this ancient magick running through her veins?”

  He tapped the side of his nose and grinned. “That we’ll discuss when my helpers come back with your gifts.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kyla

  I moved away from Dylan, feeling a little ‘caught in the act’ even though nothing had technically happened.

  “We were just talking,” Dylan said, glaring at his sister.

  “Really?” Sam put her hands on her hips. “Because it looks to me like something else would have happened if I’d walked through the door thirty seconds later.”

  “Chill out,” I said, hoping to ease the tension a little. “It was all innocent.”

  Sam looked at me and smiled. “It’s you I’m trying to protect here, Kyla.”

  “From what? Your hot older brother?”

  She screwed her nose up in disgust. “Don’t say that. Ewww.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, don’t act like it’s the first time I’ve told you I think he’s hot.”

  “It doesn’t make hearing it any easier.” She sighed and stepped into the kitchen. “What are you doing here anyway? Mum said you were out training with the pack.”

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “I was. We were on the boundaries of the estate and I caught sight of Kyla looking for Maxi’s tennis ball. It hit me in the head.”

  Sam narrowed her eyes at him.

  As if to prove a point, Maxi reappeared with his tennis ball, pushed past Sam, and headed straight to Dylan’s feet. He dropped his ball and sat staring at him, wagging his tail.

  “See?” Dylan said. “We’re friends now.”

  “Stay away from my best friend,” Sam said, stomping over to the kettle. “I’ve told you about this before. Or do I need to break your nose again?”

  Dylan chuckled. “I’m not thirteen anymore, sis.”

  “No but your bones still break.”

  “Sam, honestly, I was just admiring his tattoos. They’re really cool.”

  She reached for a mug out of the cupboard and then gave me a withering look. “Really? Since when do you like tattoos?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “His are so intricate and detailed, I was intrigued. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Hmmm. I’ll let you off, I guess.”

  “I’m presuming this is my part to exit?” Dylan said, glancing at me.

  “Excellent timing,” Sam said. “Don’t forget Mum’s cooking tea tomorrow night. Usual time.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” I said, sliding past Sam.

  “If you’re going to kiss, shut the damn door,” she replied, banging the sugar tin down on the worktop.

  I giggled and headed towards the door. Dylan followed me, his huge mass giving me an intimidating feeling of being shadowed.

  I opened the front door, allowing Dylan to step through but he stopped and motioned for me to head outside first.

  Nerves rattled me. Was he going to want to finish what had started brewing in the kitchen? If one thing was clear, it was that the moment had well and truly gone.

  I smiled at him and headed outside, thankful I still had my jacket on. The temperature had significantly dropped in the time we’d been inside the house.

  He closed the door as he came outside with me. Putting his hands on my arms, he looked at me and said, “Trust Sam to ruin the moment.”

  I giggled and looked away. I knew if I caught his eye contact that would be it. Something had definitely ignited between us, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to follow it up.

  Even though Azazel and I had no commitment to each other, the fact I’d been told he was my demi-soul made me feel like I should be loyal to him.

  “Look,” I said, a little nervous about what to say. “I don’t know what this is…” I motioned a hand between us “…but I’m not sure if this is such a good idea.”

  “You worried about your demon?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s…that’s just plain weird between us now. It’s kinda like someone putting a woman next to you and saying ‘here’s your wife.’”

  He chuckled and stepped forwards, wrapping his hands around my upper arms. The warmth from his touch warmed me even through my fleece jacket. “Unless you tell me otherwise, that means you’re open to courting if you’re not committed.”

  I dared to look back up at him, prepared for whatever may come next. “I’ll be honest. I feel like I’m cheating on him even though there’s nothing between us.”

  His chocolate coloured eyes lit up with joy. “Well, if anything, that shows what kind of a person you are. It shows you’re loyal.”

  “Or creepy. How can I be loyal to someone before we’re committed? Doesn’t that classify as stalking?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. When he looked back at me, he rubbed my arms slowly. “I guess in some cases, yes. With you however, it’s different. You’ve been told that he’s your demi-soul so you feel a commitment to him despite nothing being discussed. That’s admirable.”

  I blushed and tried to make light of it. “Or still just plain creepy.”

  “Well, why don’t you be less creepy and let me wine and dine you one evening?”

  Heat raced through me. I wanted to, God did I ever. I’d had the odd fantasy or two of something like this happening between us.

  I looked away, the intensity burning through his eyes was heating things inside me that hadn’t been stirred for years. “I don’t know. I mean I
really want to but I still feel kinda—”

  “Guilty.”

  “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”

  He chuckled. “No. I think it’s cute. Don’t think of it as a date then. It’s just two old friends going out for something to eat.”

  “Dressed up?” I said, kind of fishing if he was looking to take me somewhere posh. I looked back at him, unable to resist those dark eyes.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “So don’t dress up.”

  I laughed. “Ok, so we’ll go out for something to eat and I’ll come along in my tracksuit bottoms and a paint-stained t-shirt.”

  Taking the last of the space between us, he leaned down and whispered, “I know you’d look great in anything.”

  A volcanic blush erupted all over me. “Don’t say that,” I said, avoiding his eye contact again. “That makes me feel guilty all over again.”

  “Because I paid you a compliment?”

  I nodded. “You and I both know that I should be telling you to get lost and to stop talking to me like that.”

  “But you’re not…”

  I shook my head and met his eyes once more. “Because I’ve always had a weird crush on you, but I never expected the spanner in the works that Lucifer threw.”

  Before I knew what was happening, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. It was such a soft, gentle sweep, I had to touch my lips afterwards to assure myself it had happened.

  “And there’s another spanner in the works for you,” he whispered. “Now tell me what makes your crush weird.”

  I giggled and looked at my feet. “Because I’m older than you.”

  “By a couple of years. Why does that make it weird?”

  “Because I knew you when you were still going through puberty. Isn’t that some definition of cradle snatching?”

  He laughed and moved a hand to my left cheek. “You’re adorable. We’re old friends, Kyla. That’s what would make this work.”

  “But it can’t,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Because we already know I’m meant for someone else. That means that you’re also meant for someone else. Isn’t there some kind of code for wolves and monogamy?”

  “Have you considered the fact that Lucifer may have lied?”

  It was like someone hitting a giant gong inside my head. A dawning moment of realisation. “No, but why would he lie?”

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “Because he’s the devil and that’s what he does. He does bad things just because he can.”

  “You have a good point. I have no way of knowing whether Azazel is my demi-soul or not.”

  “Does that help ease your conscience?”

  I laughed. “It eases mine, but you should feel bad for potentially poaching some other man’s demi-soul.”

  “Until it’s proven to me that’s the case, I won’t feel bad about anything.”

  And there it was again—that moment. This time there was no sweeping brush over my lips and no sister interrupting.

  This time, he kissed me with such passionate hunger, he took my breath away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Arana

  Borvil’s trio returned shortly after with my mud pies and shoes, albeit significantly smaller than originally.

  “Acorn juice,” he said. “That’s what I gave you to make you stay this small. Drink it, mix it, whatever—it shrinks anything it’s mixed with.”

  I smiled. “That’s pretty neat. I like that.”

  “And then,” he said, pulling out a small bottle with a green liquid in it. “Give nettle leaf juice as an anti-dote and voila—” he poured the green stuff over the bowls and the shoes “—it’s back to normal size.”

  The bowls and the shoes enlarged back to their normal size, taking up nearly all the room inside the tree trunk.

  “Probably should have left them smaller,” I said, squeezing myself around the side of one of the bowls.

  “Are you joking? Then we’d be getting less than half of the gift that you made us. And these are very generous gifts. We can definitely be friends.”

  I laughed. “Ok. So how do I get a hold of my sister?”

  “What do you want to do? Do you want to restrain her or kill her?”

  “Both.”

  He grinned. “I definitely like you. Ok, to restrain her you need to place this rope around her.” He pulled out a thin piece of orange looking string from his pocket. “It can be a wrist, an ankle, the neck. As long as the rope forms a circle around her somewhere, this rope will contain her powers.”

  I looked at the orange piece of string he placed in my hands. “It’s a piece of baling twine,” I said. “It snaps like a twig.”

  “Trust me, that won’t. Looks can be deceiving, Missy. Don’t you forget that.”

  “What makes this so special?”

  “Elvish magick.”

  “You work with elves?”

  “When it benefits us.”

  “Ok, so once I’ve restrained her, then what?”

  “Then you need to get her somewhere where she can’t be found. As long as that rope is on her, she’s like a lamb to the slaughter.”

  “Ok. What about killing her?”

  “If her powers are restrained, then she’s just a regular human.”

  I looked at the thin piece of string and grinned. “Something so small and yet so simple. Thank you.”

  “Bring it back when you’re done.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lina

  When I arrived home after another three successful meals, I was surprised to see my sister grinning at me from the sofa.

  “Good night?” I said, closing the door behind me.

  Dawn was on the horizon, a bright orange glow bathing the earth. A streak of sunlight broke through the gap in the curtains, highlighting my sister’s sunshine coloured hair.

  “You have no idea.” She stood up and rushed over to me, holding a piece of orange string, baling twine. “This is the key to getting the bitch.”

  I snorted and picked it up, twisting it around between my fingers. “A piece of string? Have you lost your mind?”

  “No. This is bound with elvish magick. It’ll stop her accessing her powers.”

  I narrowed my eyes and then noticed her pale skin. “Have you eaten?”

  “I had one meal,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I shifted a couple of times after, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “I met with Lilith to ask her about the best way to get to Kyla. She directed me to some goblins and—”

  “You what? You met with Lilith?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Yes. Why?”

  “Did you not think I might want consulting in this?”

  “Well I thought we were both set in the fact that we wanted our revenge.”

  “Yes, but it might have been nice if we could have done all this together, Arana. We’re the only family we have left. You and me—this is it.”

  She sighed. Her shoulders drooped and her entire being seemed to deflate, as if I’d just stuck her with a pin. “Sorry. I just got a little over excited.”

  “It’s ok. Tell me the rest. You met some goblins?”

  “Yes. They gave me this. They said as long as the rope circles her, be it a wrist or an ankle, it will harness her powers.”

  “Ok. So what do you suggest we do? Don’t forget that detective is down here too.”

  “Well, I suggest we figure out what we’re going to do with Kyla, and where, whilst we have some fun with the detective.”

  I grinned and hugged my baby sister. “This is why we make such a good team.”

  “Tonight we start to have some fun.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Spencer awoke the next morning, just as dawn broke. He was keen and eager to begin his investigations.

  He hadn’t even made it to the shower before his phone was ringing, baying for his attention.

  Grumbling t
o himself, he stumbled back out of the bathroom and answered his phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s another body,” said Robert Whitstable, his Superintendent. “It’s in the next village over but the same MO. The killer is expanding his reach, getting brave. You need to jump on this quickly, Spencer. People are going to start panicking soon.”

  Spencer groaned and scrubbed his right hand over his face. “Ok. Send me the latest. I’m heading out the door now.”

  He ended the call and collapsed back on his bed. After taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, he ignored the ping of his email and headed back into the shower.

  Showered and changed, Spencer headed over to The Black Iris—the scene of one of the first murders.

  The owner, a local politician by the name of William Wilkins, met him on-site.

  “Good morning, Mr Wilkins,” Spencer said, getting out of his car. “Thank you for meeting me so early.”

  “I don’t tend to sleep much so it’s no bother,” William replied.

  Spencer studied the man as they shook hands. The man was short and stocky with peppered grey hair, a moustache, and hard, flat eyes. There was no doubt this guy was used to playing hardball and winning.

  “So one victim was found outside and the other inside the toilets?” Spencer asked.

  “Yes. The one in the toilets was found by another customer. The fella out back here was found by one of the door staff.”

  “I see. Have you got your CCTV footage from Saturday evening please?”

  “Yes, of course. If you speak to my secretary, Anna, she will ensure you have everything available that you need.”

  “Thank you, Mr Wilkins.”

  They walked around the edge of the square building to the taped off area at the back. A white chalk line outlined where the body had been found.

  “There are, of course, conditions,” said William.

  Spencer stopped surveying the landscape around him and looked at his companion, frowning. “I’m sorry?”