Girl, Bitten
Graceley Knox
D.D. Miers
Girl, Bitten Copyright © 2018 by Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. 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 permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Edited by: Lorraine Fico-White - Magnifico Manuscripts
Cover Design by: Lori Grundy
Praise for Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
“The dawn of a new age of vampire.” - Crafting Geeky Bibliophile
"Thirst is the first in a new series from the writing team of Graceley Knox and D. D. Miers. Whatever they are doing, they are doing it right because Thirst had me riveted." - Tome Tender Book Blog
"The premise for Thirst is so unique... And these aren't just vampires, they are Kresova." - IB Book Blogging
"A CRAZY, WILD, INSANE RIDE THAT KEPT ME ON THE LEDGE" - Marie's Tempting Reads
“If you haven’t read any books by Graceley Knox or D. D. Miers well get busy because you are missing out on two very gifted story weavers!" - Goodreads Reviewer
Contents
Praise for Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
The Draugur
Prologue
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
Dear Reader,
Acknowledgments
Also By Graceley Knox & D.D. Miers
About the Authors
The Draugur
Long before Vlad the Impaler, there was Vasile Draugur.
Descendant of a warlord emperor, Vasile was a force never before witnessed in history. But for all his strength and power, his people fell into dissolution as famine, disease, and war spread through their land. Desperate and desirous to prove himself, Vasile sought the help of the Servants of Hekate, the right hand to the queen of the underworld.
He begged for help, grace, and mercy, but his cries fell on deaf ears. His fate was sealed the moment he walked into the temple asking for Hekate's help.
Unhappy with their prophecy and angered by the priestess’s words, Vasile slaughtered one of Heckate’s priestesses, a young innocent who was actually Princess Avilda, daughter of the great King Ivar Baetal.
He attempted to save the girl and failed.
Hekate cursed him with the words, “For the blood you stole this night, you shall live a walking death." Horrified by their leader’s actions, Vasile’s people rebelled, sealing him in a cave, alone, unable to die, and hungry.
Seeking revenge for the loss of his daughter, Ivar Baetal ravaged the known world, offering his life and his humanity to a witch in order to achieve his goals. Upon capture by a great foe, Ivar ripped out the leader’s throat, promising to destroy every one of them. The tale of an undead leader from hell spread like wildfire among those left in the wreckage.
Gathering his forces, Ivar soon believed the myths told about him, drinking blood every night to continue to lead his army to victory and avenge his daughter. Madness took his mind and his own officers turned on him, refusing to drink blood as he did. Though they managed to plunge a knife into his heart, Ivar rose again the next night, declaring himself a god and turning those remaining loyal to him into creatures of his own making—the Baetal. Ivar swore to find the man who took his daughter and destroy any last trace of him and his line.
Years later, an earthquake decimated the cave Vasile had been sealed in, setting him free. Forgotten and unsure of the new world around him, he created others like him, destined to live a walking death. Soon, their numbers grew, and the Draugur were born—powerful, wise, and among the oldest of the ancient vampire races. Unknown to Vasil, his enemy still walked the earth, searching and hunting him.
The Draugur and the Baetal.
They cannot be known.
Be seen.
They live by one rule: Their existence relies on their very nonexistence.
For some, death is not an end but the beginning.
Prologue
Six Months Earlier
The Western Coast of Ireland
The fate of the many had always been decided by the few.
And that same fate was often determined not in great palaces, historical courtrooms, or expansive estates, but in the depths of dark, dirty basements and stench-filled battlefields.
Tonight was not different.
A trail of torches lit the path into the ruins within Brackloon Woods. To the rare traveler who strayed too far from the main trails, it could seem like a gathering of wild mountain folk. But this evening, the will of two covens determined the future of an entire species of vampires.
A single word, a single command could bring peace—or war.
Only the elite of the Baetal and Draugur covens attended. Each Master stood on the edges of the Brackloon woods, a neutral territory, flanked by their sergeants and a dozen more of their faction leaders.
Milo Eskandar, master of the Draugur, and Lief Jederick, master of the Baetal, still harbored the wounds of their ancestors, a feud over two thousand years in the making.
The only reason they’d gathered was to call for peace. A peace brought on by a common enemy. Death.
Man, supernatural, or beast couldn’t best the vampires. Their enemy now was one well known to their human inferiors—disease.
Death had come for the undying.
An incurable virus was killing off their races and decimating the female vampire population.
Milo stepped forward, his long black-and-gray streaked hair tied at his neck. Flashes of firelight shone as flecks of orange in his eyes. “Have you agreed to the terms sent by our emissary?”
“A cease of violence in all territories and no acts of retribution for previous grievances?” Lief answered.
“Yes.”
Lief rubbed a hand along his jaw. “And how are we to know the Draugur will hold steady to their word?” He glanced over to his sergeant and nephew, Nikolai Jederick, the Baetal’s incoming master, and smirked. “With ancestors like yours, it is hard to imagine promises being honored.”
It was a dig meant to flare tempers as an open act of war, but there were greater challenges facing them now.
Milo’s son, Arsen and incoming master, loomed behind his father. “The Draugur have never been the ones to go back on their word. Do not forget your own history, Baetal.”
“Perhaps it is you, Draugur, who needs a history lesson,” Nikolai said.
Milo raised a hand into the air. “Silence.”
The two younger vampires, stood toe to toe, a dense anger filling the air between them. Each of them only held less than six-hundred years to their names.
&nb
sp; Milo sighed. “This is our third attempt to reach peace, Lief. What say you?”
Lief placed a hand to Nikolai’s shoulder and brought him back several steps. “We agree to your terms. No Baetal will harm a Draugur until this matter is resolved.”
Milo nodded and curled his finger, drawing forth a human thrall belonging to the Draugur. The young man, no more than twenty, stood in the middle of both leaders and raised a bejeweled golden chalice to his wrist, then sliced. Blood poured down into the goblet, oozing in thick red droplets. Each master stepped forward and drank from the same chalice before returning it to the thrall.
Lief summoned forth a second thrall of the Baetal. A girl in her preteens stepped forward and brought with her another chalice, this one silver with sapphire gemstones circling the rim. Arsen was appalled by her youth. The Draugur would never take on a human servant until they’d reached adulthood and truly understood the task they were about to bear.
She took the same blade used by the young man and sliced open her arm, letting a wide trail of blood slip down her bare skin and fill the glass.
Milo and Lief gestured for Arsen and Nikolai to step forward and do as their leaders had done before them. Without hesitation, Arsen drank. Among the vampires, it was a sign of respect and fidelity to share blood from the same human. When Arsen had finished, Nikolai took the goblet and downed the remaining blood. He raised his sleeve to his mouth and wiped the remnants from his chin.
“It is done,” Milo said.
“So let it be.” Lief finished the oath.
They shook hands, spoke a few private words, and then returned to the group. Moments later, Arsen watched the Baetal Master and his clan leave the woods like shadows dissolving into the night.
“Father? Make I speak with you?”
Milo stepped away from his faction leaders and guided Arsen farther into the woods, the sounds of broken branches and leaves crunching beneath their feet. “What is it, my son?”
“The Baetal.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t trust them to honor this truce or to make peace and the health of all vampires a priority.” Arsen ran a tense hand through his hair. “Perhaps we should have reached out to the Kresova.”
“No, their queen is mad and the grievances amongst them are only growing in whispers.” Milo shook his head, “We must accept their word but keep a keen eye upon them.” He stroked his beard. “Is something else bothering you?”
“Nikolai.”
“What of him?”
Arsen sighed. “I don’t trust Nikolai to honor it. Not when our time comes.”
“Both you and Nikolai will be the new masters and you will both be responsible for more than just your immediate covens, but the humans and various factions under your territories.”
“I don’t know if he will uphold peace.”
“Then if he will not, you must. Or we all will fall.” He squeezed Arsen’s arm and returned to his faction leaders.
Milo was right. Peace was necessary to discover the source behind the disease ailing his people. Ailing all vampires.
But peace usually came at a price.
War.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Portland State College, Genetics Department
12:47a.m.
My boots skid across the wet floor as I run.
Wet, not from water—but blood. The blood of my two murdered colleagues.
Dark crimson puddles almost propel me head first into the laminate, but I steady myself on the counter’s edge and keep moving.
I can’t fall. Falling would be tantamount to death because their murderer is now hunting me.
The emergency lights illuminate what’s left of the genetics lab after the attack that happened moments before I arrived.
Mere seconds defined the line between life and death. Had I not gotten a craving for a cold soda, I’d be lying on the floor beside them, my throat torn until I would be almost beheaded.
A slam from across the lab has me dropping to my knees. I take shelter behind a workstation and steal a glance toward the noise. There’s someone in blood storage.
He’s here. The man who did this to them.
The side of my hunter’s face comes into view as he saunters down the darkened row. A wide grin reveals a handsome smile hiding the sinister monster beneath. If I saw him in a bar or at a club, I’d probably smile and flirt. His good looks are the perfect way to disarm a woman’s better instincts.
He taps a finger to the DNA sequencer and pauses. “Little rabbit? Where have you gone?”
Shit.
I slip onto my shaky hands and crawl backward, my destination the emergency exit on the far side of the laboratory. I react by pure adrenaline only. Survival mode has taken my terror and focused it toward escape.
He continues his perusal of the lab’s various machines, his hands sliding against every button and surface in an unhurried manner.
The sick fuck is enjoying this.
“Little rabbit, come out, come out.”
I hold back the shutter of my breath as the blue overhead light reveals something that has to be a lie. A trick of the light. What I’m seeing can’t be real.
His eyes glow silver and he’s got fangs.
Not like goofy Halloween fangs seen at a frat party. No—these are bona fide fangs, like he filed down his teeth or had them surgically implanted.
“I can smell you,” he says, as a sharp hiss escapes his blood-covered lips.
Dread twists my stomach into knots. He thinks he’s a vampire. He legit thinks he’s a vampire . . . enough to file down his own teeth. Jesus. Did he actually bite my colleagues?
I blink rapidly, processing what I’m seeing.
“Mmm . . . I can hear your heart.” He licks his lips in a slow circle. “Hear it pounding with fear. Your fear of me.”
My entire body trembles. I clutch my sweat-covered palms over my mouth to silence myself and still the violent shaking.
Breathe, Sasha. Fucking breathe.
If I don’t calm down, I’ll pass out.
“I like this game, little rabbit.”
I have to get out of here. My only chance is the security desk at the end of the hall. What if they’re out on patrol? My heart pounds like a thousand hooves on a racetrack as I eye the distance to the door leading out of the lab.
Can I make it? Do I turn my back on him and run? Can I outrun him?
Every second takes away my option to choose. To my left, I grab a small surgical scalpel off a fallen tray and grasp it with both hands as I rise to my feet.
One chance. That’s all I’ve got.
He turns his head, his gaze meeting mine as I reveal myself. Our gazes catch for only a blink before I dart toward the door. He laughs, hanging his head back as he does so, but I don’t stop running. There’s no time to ponder his form of crazy.
I push the lab doors open and sprint down the hall. The alarms blare overhead. The air in my lungs burns like strokes of fire and I scream so loud my voice cracks. “Security! Help! Please!”
I round the corner and stop.
One security guard is half out of his chair, his throat a bloody mess. The other is sprawled near the front doors. Her head is at an unnatural angle.
“Oh my god.” I’m back to running for my life. I look behind me to the hallway and see the man watching me, his head tilted to the side as if he’s studying a modernist painting and not a terrified woman.
Sanctuary lies only thirty feet from me now.
Push, dammit, Sasha.
Twenty.
Breathe.
Ten.
Move.
Five.
Don’t stop.
My fingertips graze the brass handle but it’s too little too, too late.
He’s on me, his hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise. His momentum sends us both flying to the ground sideways.
My chin hits the hard tile with a crack and the air whooshes out of me. His weight is
crushing, and my vision blurs. I can’t move with his larger body on top of me, so I draw in what breath I can and scream for help.
“Someone! Please! Help me!”
His fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls my head back before slamming it against the floor. “Stop moving,” he growls, and I go still, blinking slowly, dazed and certain I’m going to die.
I don’t want to die.
I’ve done nothing to deserve this. No one here has. Panic crushes my windpipe and I open my mouth to yell again but no sound escapes.
My attacker turns me over and I’m face to face with his silver eyes once again. His features are now distorted and blurry, but I see the sharp fangs descended from his mouth. He’s at my neck and there’s a piercing pain.
I can’t move.
It’s like I’m paralyzed, completely at his mercy and helpless. I beg myself to awaken from this awful nightmare. It has to be one because this can’t be my reality.
The words of my freshman year’s sociology professor ring truer now than ever. Death. It comes whether we seek it or not.
And the last thing I see before my vision goes black is a smile on his nightmarish face.
Chapter 2
My entire body throbs.
Every muscle is painfully tight and my face aches like I went a few rounds in the ring with a professional boxer. My head is so tender, it pounds as though my brain has swollen twice the normal size and presses to break free of my skull. What the hell? What did I do last night?
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