Wild Hearts (Blood & Judgment #1)

by Eve Newton

  I am a Seer.

  I can see the future, but more than that, I can see how to change the future. This makes me a hot commodity and the only reason my father wants me back so badly. I have been evading his henchmen for years, as they will use any force necessary to return me to my father. I move constantly, never staying in one place too long.

  They got too close this time. I was foolish. I led them straight to me, but it was unavoidable. I left the dead body of a mugger in an alleyway, drained him dry and they tracked me. I don’t trust myself not to do it again. My bloodlust is extraordinarily high, so, as a result, I haven’t fed for two days. I am beyond starving, ravenous to the point of losing my shit, but I need to keep moving.

  Towards my ‘someone’.

  “Come on, girl,” I mutter as I slam the accelerator down on the Lamborghini I stole. It took me longer than I’d hoped to disable the GPS tracker on it—it is getting more and more difficult to jack high-end cars these days. Dawn is coming and I need to get to my destination before the sun comes up. My visions have led me to this city and as luck would have it, I have a man in the area.

  Man.

  Vampire.

  Whatever.

  I know I can trust him, because I sired him.

  Accidentally.

  I did not sign on to be Simon Watkins’ sire. I was in the midst of draining him, when he turned the tide and bit into my wrist so deeply that he drew blood. It was all it took. He knew what he was doing.

  Fucker.

  I turn off into the suburbs and slow my pace. I am anxious, but I cannot risk speeding down these quiet streets. I am conspicuous anyway; best not to draw any more attention to myself. Yeah, I could have jacked the old Ford out of the mall parking lot, but I have standards. And class. It is a risk worth taking to ride in style. But, I know I will have to get rid of it soon.

  My eyes scan the houses and I find the one I am looking for. I turn into the driveway and lower the window. I punch in the code and the gates open. I drive through quickly, feeling the pop of the wards that have been set.

  He came through. I relax my tense shoulders a fraction.

  They are merely a cloak; they won’t keep anyone out. That’s way too much heavy magic and will be easily identifiable, but this will keep me off my father’s radar for a few days.

  I park the Lambo and reach over to the passenger side for my duffel bag. Making my way to the front door, I take a look around and roll my eyes. I heft the bag higher up my shoulder and ring the doorbell. I stare at the huge glass door as I wait and several moments later it opens.

  “Ems!” Simon greets me with a big smile.

  “Christ’s sake,” I mutter as I take in the handsome face of the vampire I sired decades ago and the girl draped all over him like a cloak. “Get rid of the piece of fluff, we need to talk.” I push past them and my six-inch boot heels clack on the tiled floor of the foyer as I make my way across it. I dump the duffel bag at the foot of the stairs and keep going. I end up in a sunken living room with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that look out on a view of an infinity pool and the rolling hills beyond, lit up by flood lights that make my eyes water.

  I wait impatiently as Simon gets rid of his latest fling and I can see her pout from here.

  I coil my long, dark hair into a tight bun and pull some pins out of the pocket of my black leather duster. I jab them in, feeling slightly better. My skin prickles as I remember the disgusting motel I had to hide out in last night and the shower from hell that I had to share with a cockroach.

  “Like it?” Simon asks me, sauntering towards me with all the swagger of the stud that he is.

  “Not my style,” I say shortly. “I prefer it…”

  “Dark and gothic,” Simon finishes my sentence to my ire. “I like it,” he adds taking a long look around. “It’s airy.”

  Airy? More like a death trap. “Whatever,” I mutter.

  Simon turns back to me and closes the gap between us with a flash of vampire speed. He embraces me tightly, breaking all the protocols I’ve set. I stand there awkwardly with my arms pinned to my sides while he squeezes me.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles, eventually letting me go. “It’s just been a while.”

  I shrug and turn my back to him. I don’t do ‘feelings’. He is way too needy sometimes.

  “Do you trust her?” I ask the most important question.

  “Who? Sasha? Yeah, she has no idea who you are,” Simon replies.

  “Sasha? The little slut that was clinging to you like a vine?” I ask nastily.

  “Jealous?” he asks back just as nastily and I flinch, but quickly regain my composure.

  “In your dreams,” I sneer at him.

  He shrugs at me, unconcerned.

  “So, will these wards hold?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says with a sigh and runs his hand through his short blond hair. “For now. Sasha is a competent witch, but young. She still has much to learn. Is it big trouble this time?”

  “You could say that. I just need time to lay low,” I say vaguely. He doesn’t need to know the ins and outs of my race across the country to get away from my asshole father’s creeps and towards who the hell knows what.

  “Probably best to get rid of the ride then,” Simon says with a tilt of his head.

  “Later,” I say, suddenly exhausted. Dawn is coming and I can feel the sun trying to reach into my very soul to destroy me. “I need a shower to clean that fleabag motel off me,” I add with a moue of distaste.

  Simon snickers at me. “Motel? Things must be bad.”

  “You have no idea,” I say, flashing him a smile. I can always count on him to assist me without the need for every detail.

  “I’ll show you to your room,” he says and puts his arm around me as he leads me towards the stairs. He slips his hand into the back pocket of my black jeans and I stiffen. It’s too familiar, too intimate. He gives my ass a squeeze as he scoops up my duffel and we go up the stairs. He leads me to a room and pushes the door open. The room is dark, the thick drapes pulled tight against the rising sun. My eyes relax instantly now that I am in more comfortable surroundings. Simon throws the bag on the double bed and removes his hand from my pocket. Half of me wishes he had kept it there; I could do with a sexual release, but the stronger half is glad. I don’t like people touching me. I don’t like touching people. The only time I get close enough to touch someone is when I am killing them, or fucking them—always on top, always in control, always on guard.

  I can’t trust anyone. My father’s reach is long and the bounty on my head is enough to make any man, or woman, betray me. Except Simon. He is loyal. He has been tested and he remains true.

  “Shower,” I say with meaning, and give him a pointed look.

  “Want some company?” he asks, hopefully.

  “Don’t you have a little witch-whore warming your bed?” I ask.

  “She can wait,” he says, his green eyes staring into my gray ones intently. “And what’s with the hate?”

  “Not hate, just distrust,” I say and turn away from him.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks me this delicate question carefully.

  “Always,” I say stiffly. My burning hunger for blood never abates and my bloodlust is at its highest right now. It is a constant struggle to stay in control.

  “I’ll make sure you are taken care of,” he says gently.

  “Thanks,” I mutter and head towards the bathroom.

  He pauses with his hand on the door handle. “You can tell me, Ems. Whatever it is, maybe I can help you.”

  “You are helping,” I say, staying turned away from him.

  “I mean really help. You know I would die for you, Ember,” he says from right behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at his closeness and the heat he is sending my way.

  I sigh. I have to remember that he is not like me. He was created, not born to this life like me. I turn into him with a fake, bright smile. He deserves it. I am being rotten to him whe
n he is helping me.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I say softly and bring my hand up to his face, not touching him, but almost.

  He closes his eyes and a soft moan escapes his lips. He presses his cheek against my hand and I pull back like I have been burned.

  “Not this time, Ems,” he growls and clasping my hands, he drags me towards him. He slams me into the wall, pressing his hard body into me and his soft lips against mine. I struggle, infuriated at his audacity.

  I initiate contact.

  Every time.

  He knows this.

  “Simon,” I growl at him, but he ignores me.

  He tightens his grip on my wrists and I continue to struggle in his grasp. My recent starvation has left my strength waning. I need blood and I need it now. Without realizing what I am doing, my fangs drop and with a hiss of satisfaction I sink them straight into his neck. He cries out with a noise of pure lust and his cock digs into my hip as his hand slides between my legs.

  “Fuck, Ems,” he breathes. “More. I need more.”

  It brings me back to my senses with a force so powerful, I pull back instantly. My mouth is dripping with his blood and I wipe my hand across it, panting with the bloodlust. Vampire blood will only get me so far. I need human blood.

  “Stop,” I say as he is about to pounce on me. I push him back with two hands to his chest, my strength temporarily renewed by his donation. “Go to your witch.” I stalk past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. If I hadn’t pushed him away, I would have ridden him like the stallion he thinks he is.

  And he would have won.

  That isn’t how this works. I will take him when I make first contact and not a second before.

  “Ember.” I hear his rasp through the door. I don’t answer him. “Ems?”

  “Shit, Ember. I’m sorry, okay? I got carried away. You don’t know what it’s like. I miss you, you know?” Simon says.

  No, I don’t know. I haven’t been that attached to anyone that I miss them when I don’t see them again. My life on the run is lonely and it hurts, but this is the way it has to be. Any man, any friend, is a liability to me and an advantage to my father. Only my distance keeps Simon safe and right now, if these wards fail in any way, he won’t be safe anymore. I can stay here a couple of nights at best.

  “I’ll get you some blood,” Simon says quietly when I remain silent.

  “Thank you,” I croak out, clenching my fist at the weakness in my voice. “Leave it outside the door please.”

  “Sure thing,” he says mournfully and I hear him leave.

  My relief hits me hard. I rub the back of my neck, the dull ache that my Seer abilities give me is starting to get worse. Soon it will be a full-on migraine and this time it is going to lead me straight to her. I just know it. My blood is singing to me. My visions have taken me this far and I know she is here. I just know it.

  Her. I don’t know her name and I don’t much care. All I need to know is that she is a part of this, this prophecy. This destiny that I am meant to share with her in order to take down those who hunt us: the Ambassadors. The feared and hated race created from two of the most powerful beings ever to exist, The Jurisdiction. They are a group of Arch Dark Angels and Arch Demons. The Ambassadors are conscripted to hunt those of us they think are impure, tainted: vampires, shifters, witches and warlocks.

  My destiny is to stop them. With this woman and another. Another that I haven’t seen in my visions yet. Just a faceless, nameless being to complete the circle.

  I strip off and peer at myself in the mirror. Just another reminder of how special I am. I have a heart that beats, lungs that breathe and a reflection in the mirror. I turn away from it and turn on the shower, hot, so that the room gets all steamy. I let out my hair, letting the pins fall to the ground and I climb in, face the tiled wall with my hands up for support and I stick my head underneath the torrent of water.

  “Fantastic,” I say and sigh happily to myself. All I need now is a good feed and sleep.

  ***

  Coming up on half an hour later, after I have scrubbed myself raw to get the stench of ‘cheap’ off me, I exit the bathroom. I can smell the blood that’s been left for me wafting under the door and I hastily make my way over to it. I open the door and stare down at the tray on which a cut crystal decanter full of warm, human blood is waiting for me with a crystal goblet and a red rose. I bend down and snatch up the decanter and slam the door shut. I will have no need for the glass this morning and Simon can shove his peace offering.

  I tilt my head back and slowly gulp the blood down until the decanter is empty and I lick my lips. I feel the strength of the vampire course through me and I flex my shoulders.

  Better. Much better. I will never, ever deprive myself for so long again, no matter how dangerous my situation gets.

  I saunter over to my duffel bag and unzip it. It was with regret that I had to ditch my Louis Vuitton suitcase, handing it over to a homeless woman to live out of, but it was too big and too unwieldy. Now, I live out of this black duffel, which is really hard to do for a woman with my expensive tastes and style. I pull out my remaining pair of black stilettos and unroll my precious black Chanel dress, shaking it out.

  “You shouldn’t be treated so badly,” I say lovingly to the dress and hang it up quickly.

  Next, I pull out my black satin nightgown. I have sacrificed a lot for this life on the run, but the feel of the soft satin against my skin as I sleep is not one of them.

  Except yesterday. Yesterday, I slept fully clothed on top of the rank, motel bed. I pop the nightgown over my head and let it slither down my body. I resist the urge to yawn and climb into the gorgeous, soft bed. Sunrise is in full swing and I can feel the pull of it dragging me under. I lie flat on my back with the flattest pillow I can find, and with my arms at my sides, I fall into a deep slumber.

  Chapter 4

  ~Ember~

  I awake, startled out of my sleep by the unfamiliar bed. My heart is pounding and I sit up, suddenly remembering where I am. This happens a lot; it never gets any easier. I groan as I press my hand to my head. Dammit, no vision yet. I was sure it would come to me while I was asleep. They usually do. I need to know her exact location. I cannot wander around and around trying to find her. It’s too risky. I was relying on my abilities to lead me directly to her.

  I climb out of bed and clutch at my throbbing head. Something is coming, I’ll just have to wait it out.

  My stomach grumbles and I feel my fangs drop. I need more blood and I’m not going to find it sitting around in here. I will have to venture out and hope that I don’t run into that witch. I am not a fan of witch-kind. They are sneaky and devious and that makes me nervous.

  I hastily get dressed in my black Chanel dress and heels. I brush out my tangled hair and coil it in a neat bun. Casting a glance in the mirror, I allow myself a small preen. This is me. Refined, sophisticated and elegant.

  I make my way down the stairs, following the sound of laughter and chatter. I inwardly cringe. Simon has guests over. This is not good. I don’t know who they are and what their price is. Most people have one and my father can pay out.

  I linger at the edge of the dining room, debating whether to enter or to just go to the kitchen and help myself to whatever blood I can find in there. Most vampires keep a stock in, just in case there isn’t an available human around.

  Just as I am about to turn around, Simon calls out, “Ember.”

  Fuck. He used my name. This is going from bad to worse.

  “Si,” I say, sauntering in with a smile plastered on my face, my hands at the ready to fight my way out of here if necessary. I give him a glare that lets him know how angry I am, but he just smiles at me.

  Sasha gives me a death stare and scoots closer to Simon, putting a possessive hand over his. I ignore her. I really don’t give a shit if she is screwing him. He has probably only gotten involved because he needed a witch to protect me.

  “
This is Jacob Stone,” Simon says, extending his hand down the long table to the man seated at the far end.

  I slide my narrowed eyes down the length and then fix them on a really handsome man with bright blue eyes, dark hair and a charming smile that could remove the panties from most women. Not me though, no, all he has done is rile me up and the hunger inside me lets loose.

  “Ember,” he drawls. “I’ve heard all about you. Even more beautiful than Simon said.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything, Ems, ignore him,” Simon says hastily.

  But the damage has been done.

  In a flash, I am in front of Jacob, my hand closing around his throat as I drag him to his feet. He chokes back his surprise and coils his magic.

  “Warlock,” I hiss at him, slamming him into the wall behind him and sending the chair he was seated on flying.

  “Ems, wait, he’s no threat!” Simon says, getting to his feet.

  I turn my head towards him, growling at him. “Don’t you get it?” I snarl at him.

  “He’s here about Sasha,” Simon says quickly, coming towards me with his hands outstretched in a silent plea. “His brother is the Head of the Coven that Sasha is a member of. They were just checking up on her. That’s all.”

  “Jumpy little bitch, aren’t you?” Jacob comments, peeling my hand away from his neck with a strength that I wouldn’t have given him credit for. My eyes slam straight back to his and I bare my fangs at him. To my satisfaction he pales and holds his hands up. “I don’t mean any harm.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” I say to him in as menacing a tone as I can muster, slapping my hand back around his throat. I won’t be outmatched by an asshole warlock.

  “Ember,” Simon says. “Let him go and come with me.”

  I can hear the placating tone and I let it wash over me. If I kill this bastard, it will just complicate an already complicated situation.