Devil’s Blood
Shade of Devil Book 3
Shayne Silvers
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Shayne Silvers
Devil’s Blood
Shade of Devil Book 3
© 2020, Shayne Silvers / Argento Publishing, LLC
[email protected]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the author / publisher.
Dedication
To that person in front of me at the coffee shop who didn’t pay for my drink…this book is dedicated to someone else.
* * *
And to anyone who thinks I didn’t deserve that drink, I once won a race against a billion other competitors. It was do or die. If you’re reading this, you probably deserve a coffee, too.
And a laugh.
Enjoy my words. This book is for you, because you’re a winner.
I’m not buying you a coffee, though.
* * *
-Shayne
Epigraph
“There is no death. Only a change of worlds.”
Chief Seattle
Contents
The Shade of Devil Series—A warning
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
TRY: OBSIDIAN SON (NATE TEMPLE #1)
MAKE A DIFFERENCE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT SHAYNE SILVERS
BOOKS BY SHAYNE SILVERS
The Shade of Devil Series—A warning
Many vampires were harmed in the making of this story. Like…a lot of them.
If you enjoyed the Blade or Underworld movies, you will love the Shade of Devil series.
The greatest trick the First Vampire ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn't exist.
Before the now-infamous Count Dracula ever tasted his first drop of blood, Sorin Ambrogio owned the night. Humanity fearfully called him the Devil.
Cursed by the gods, Sorin spent centuries bathing Europe in oceans of blood with his best friends, Lucian and Nero, the world’s first Werewolf and Warlock—an unholy trinity if there ever was one. Until the three monsters grew weary of the carnage, choosing to leave it all behind and visit the brave New World across the ocean. As they befriended a Native American tribe, they quickly forgot that monsters can never escape their past.
But Dracula—Sorin’s spawn—was willing to do anything to erase Sorin’s name from the pages of history so that he could claim the title of the world’s first vampire all for himself. Dracula hunts him down and slaughters the natives, fatally wounding Sorin in the attack. Except a Shaman manages to secretly cast Sorin into a healing slumber.
For five hundred years.
Until Sorin is awoken by a powerful Shaman in present-day New York City. In a world he doesn’t understand, Sorin only wants one thing—to kill Dracula and anyone else who stands in his path.
The streets of New York City will flow with rivers of blood, and the fate of the world rests in the hands of the Devil, Sorin Ambrogio.
Because this town isn’t big enough for the both of them.
Now, our story begins in a brave New World…
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1
Winner takes all, I had told Natalie a few moments ago, sending her fleeing across the marble floors of the Museum of Natural History in pursuit of our wily prey—Victoria Helsing, the infamous monster hunter.
Except she was not the hunter at the moment. She was the hunted.
In this chase, both predator and prey would fully sate their greedy appetites.
Their laughter echoed in the halls of the museum, carefree and anticipatory. Genuine, heartfelt, blissful sounds. Now that we had a rare moment of privacy and no immediately pressing dangers, it was finally time to celebrate—to enjoy the fruits of our labor. It had barely struck midnight, and Nosh and Isabella had left a few minutes ago, leaving us the rest of the evening to our own devilish desires.
Thoughts of my recent victories—at the Statue of Liberty and in bringing my old castle here to Central Park—encouraged me, only barely drowning out the very real concerns still on my plate. But I squashed down those persistent doubts. None were time-sensitive—at least not for this exact moment. We had earned a night to celebrate.
Castle Ambrogio—now just outside the doors to the museum and surrounded by an impenetrable blanket of fog—jealously reached out to me in a siren song, eager for her own reunion, but I pushed that sensation down as well, muting our bond. I had another bond on my mind at the moment. And it required my full attention. Maybe even through to sunrise.
The world could surely wait that long. It had waited five hundred years, after all.
I took stock of the Greek Exhibit: the various statues, paintings, vases, and suits of armor celebrating the numerous heroes, monsters, and legends from Greek mythology. Several murals and paintings even depicted the famous Greek succession myth—that the parents were ultimately doomed to be overthrown and replaced by their own children.
I let out a breath, shaking my head. They were also a problem for another day. I sprinted from the Greek Exhibit, pushing down thoughts of my newfound family in favor of my current prey. A vampire needed blood.
&n
bsp; But a man needed other things.
Flesh. Sweat. Feverish skin. Agony and ecstasy.
Right now, blood was the furthest thing from my mind, although I was certain it would come into play in the coming hours—if for no other reason than to reenergize the three of us for repeated carnal pleasures when we lay exhausted in a sweaty heap of tangled sheets. Because when I drank their blood, it served to reenergize them almost as much as it nourished me.
I rounded the corner, my feet making no sound as they struck the marble floor. The elevators to the catacombs below were at the far end of the museum from my current location, and the devils already had a head-start.
I tapped into my powers to run faster, following a tantalizing, spicy scent in the air.
Dr. Stein had recently educated me about adrenaline—a hormone secreted by the adrenal glands during conditions of elevated stress. Some called its effects the fight or flight syndrome—where the person would need the added power in order to escape or battle the sudden danger.
I inhaled the scent of adrenaline-infused blood from my devils.
It was still incredible to learn how far humanity had advanced since my time. I had always sensed a spicy aroma to my prey’s blood if they were fleeing from me rather than willingly offering themselves. But I hadn’t known the science behind it—adrenaline.
And it tasted fucking delicious—a master cook adding the perfect blend of exotic spices to a carefully prepared meal for a holiday feast.
Like the sweetest music, my enhanced senses picked up on the rapidly increasing staccato of two full hearts pumping blood to muscles and tendons, fueled and ignited by the spicy tang of adrenaline. The sounds of Victoria and Natalie giggling and shrieking playfully as they fled the monster of the museum—me—was a perfect accompaniment to the beating of their hearts.
I listened with a hungry grin as their pulses sped faster and faster, deeper and deeper—the potent blood coursing in their veins like fingers of lightning. The heady whiff of their lust and desire was like a trail of fragrant rose petals, letting me know their exact route.
Rather than fight-or-flight, their adrenaline-fueled bodies hummed a different song.
Fuck-or-flight.
But the sexual tension between us was merely a strange byproduct of our real bond.
On a purely magical basis, I felt their supernatural powers reaching out to mine, begging to be stroked and tuned, caressed and strained, plucked and played like the strings of a harp. To see what we were capable of accomplishing together. Because we hadn’t yet sat down and analyzed our bond. Despite my current hunger for more…primitive experiments, I was confident that our bond really had nothing to do with sex.
There was something…alarmingly powerful between the three of us. Even more now that I had reclaimed Castle Ambrogio. I wasn’t sure how or why, but it almost seemed like the three of us had become one—three sides of the same soul.
And reclaiming my castle had vastly increased the cords of power connecting us—especially after I had tapped into my castle to save Victoria’s life a few days ago—with a metaphysical blood transfusion. Almost like my castle had become part of our bond in the process.
Victoria and Natalie could even communicate with my castle now—just like me.
And I didn’t know what that meant—what consequences it carried or benefits it offered.
Then again…
The prospect of actual sex was its own aphrodisiac. It…well, it had been a long time for me. I felt like my very bones ached with maddening lust. And it’s hard to get analytical when hormones are contaminating objectivity. It would be better for everyone if we only cleared our heads. Scientifically, it was the wisest course of action. I was certain of it…
I rounded the last corner in time to see the elevator doors closing at the end of the hall. Victoria and Natalie grinned darkly at me from within. Before the doors fully shut, one of my devils flung an article of clothing out of the elevator.
They laughed as the doors closed.
I skidded to a halt outside the metal doors, glaring down at the blouse Victoria had discarded.
I realized I was actually growling, my own heart beating just as anxiously—and nervously—as theirs. None of us knew what the hell we were doing, but we were willing to give it a try.
I stood impatiently, clenching my fists as I waited for the elevator. I contemplated turning to mist in order to descend to my chambers ahead of them, but I chose against it, relishing in the chase. My phone rang in my pocket, threatening to sideline my evening of pleasure. Without shifting my attention from the closed doors, I calmly withdrew the device and crushed it in my fist, dropping the pieces to the marble floor without looking at who had been calling.
I pressed the button to call the elevator, watching my finger tremor in the process. I sensed movement to my right, and I spun to see Nosh and Isabella—Izzy, as he had taken to calling her—jogging towards me. “Sorin!” she shouted urgently, increasing her pace. Her face was pale, making her fiery red hair stand out even more than normal, and she looked out of breath. She wore a long eagle feather in her hair that I hadn’t noticed earlier. “You didn’t answer your phone!”
I gritted my teeth, seriously considering shifting to mist to escape whatever the hell they needed. “Now is really not the time, Izzy. Whatever it is can wait—”
“The High Priestess of the Sisters of Mercy has come to New York City,” she blurted, cutting me off. “She demands an audience with you. She thinks you’re allying yourself with Dracula.”
I blinked at her, wanting to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. Violently. Nosh glanced at the elevator doors and then the discarded blouse on the ground. He instantly picked up on the source of my irritation. Like a brother on the frontlines of a war, he gave me a grim nod—letting me know that he empathized with our shared plight, but that duty called. He must have had similar romantic aspirations with Izzy before the Sisters of Mercy ruined everything.
“Battle plans never survive first contact with the enemy,” he said sadly. I nodded somberly.
Izzy cocked her head, frowning at the pair of us. “This is serious.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The elevator doors opened with a soft chiming sound. I somehow managed to keep my feet firmly planted, refusing to open my eyes until the doors closed. If I had caught even one glimpse of an escape option, I would have taken it. Consequences be damned. The doors whispered shut, and I finally opened my eyes, turning to face her. “Okay. I’m fine,” I rasped, breathing very carefully so as not to bite her head off. Her intentions were good.
She nodded uneasily, discreetly gauging the distance between us as if only now realizing how unstable my emotions currently were. “I wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t urgent,” she said cautiously. “They are outside the museum right now.”
I stiffened, my eyes flicking over her shoulder even though I couldn’t see the front entrance from here. “What?”
Nosh nodded, and I finally picked up on the sea of violence bubbling beneath the surface of his calm façade. “Three dozen of them.”
Nosh never lost his calm. For him to be so close to violence meant that the situation was extremely dire. “Okay. You’ve got my attention. This High Priestess asked for me by name?”
Izzy shook her head, wincing. “They demanded to speak with—and I quote—the fool of a vampire who dared to erect a cursed castle in the center of New York City. The fool of a vampire who gave humans proof that the supernatural is real.”
I pursed my lips, reminding myself that she was only the messenger. “Why can none of these witches remember a simple goddamned name?”
“Maybe you need a nametag,” Nosh suggested dryly. “Like the tombstones all your vampires wear.” I grunted. Since so many of the new vampires we had recently brought back to life at that Statue of Liberty had come from different eras, cultures, and countries, Aristos had given them tombstone-shaped lanyards with their pertinent biographical information: th
eir name, when they had been born, when they had died, and where they had lived. The lanyards served as instant conversation starters, helping everyone get to know each other a little better. The homeless vampires had immediately taken to wearing them as well, since most of them had been strangers a month ago. All-in-all, the lanyards seemed to be producing great results.
We had already seen bonds and sub-groups forming, marrying the two groups of vampires together into one cohesive family rather than keeping them segregated and distant.
I fixed my glare on Nosh until his smile withered. Natalie and Victoria were waiting for me, and they would grow very concerned if I didn’t appear soon. If they heard that the Sisters of Mercy were waiting for me outside…
My supernatural vampire senses told me there would be a girl fight. A big one.
Because not only were the Sisters interrupting our privacy, but they were also accusing me of allying with Dracula. I feared the instant obliteration of the Sisters of Mercy. Natalie and Victoria were mildly irrational, where I was entirely focused and objective. The Sisters had inadvertently picked a fight that might result in the end of their precious order. Only my calm, rational mind could save the situation.
Devil’s Blood: Shade of Devil Book 3 Page 1
