Table of Contents
Marked by a Vampire
(The Hybrid Coven Book 1)
Angela Sanders
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
Marked by a Vampire
(The Hybrid Coven Book 1)
By
Angela Sanders
Copyright © 2017 Angela Sanders
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used simply for the purposes of furthering the storyline and do not represent the institutions or places of business in any way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or used for fictional purposes.
Acknowledgments and Dedications
Independently published by Angela Sanders’ Books
Cover designed: by Christian Bentulan, Covers by Christian [email protected]
Thank you to all of my readers who have stayed with me on this crazy journey. (Special thank you to Robbie in Australia.) Switching from political writing to fantasy was a feat in and of itself. When I began my first series, Delphine Rising, I had no idea it would be as successful as it’s been. Then more and more readers wanted to learn more about the Hybrid Coven and here we are.
To my family, thank you for believing in me and being my biggest supporters. To my husband, Jason: I love you forever and ever. To my son: Mommy loves you more than the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky.
Danielle, my goodness. I don’t know what I’d do without you! Thank you for helping me when I got lost in edits and was ready to throw my hands up. You’re truly one of the best and I’m so happy to have you back in my life after all of these years.
Last, but certainly not least, I give all the praise and glory to God for giving me the ability to be able to write my books.
Love,
Angela
Chapter 1
Dark shadows passed along the alleyway as Grace left through the side door of the nightclub in the French Quarter, alone and feeling slightly drunk. Her nerves prickled as she moved onto the brightly lit sidewalk, stumbling into strangers and straggling partygoers on Bourbon Street.
What had started as a celebration with friends, ended in something Grace had only witnessed in one of her worst nightmares. It was nearly two a.m., humid and still hot as hell when she clutched her throbbing neck. Blood trickled from two deep puncture wounds onto her silky, dark blue dress.
When she pulled her bloodstained hand from her throat, she backed against the nearest brick wall, attempting to catch her breath. “What happened?” she gasped, her knees nearly buckling as flashes of a dark-haired man assaulted her mind. Mesmerizing green eyes invaded her memory and her body trembled in fear. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like they were encased in cement. It was all she could do to keep trudging forward, holding on to buildings to support herself as she continued on.
Disoriented, Grace’s vision began to blur the further she walked. Her only thoughts were of getting to safety, away from the monsters who’d attacked her and most likely her friends. She stumbled along the sidewalk and felt herself falling.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” asked a tall man, stopping her freefall onto the pavement. He had crystal blue eyes and short hair, black as night.
“Um, I don’t know… I need a cab. I need to get home,” Grace slurred, still holding her bleeding neck.
“You don’t look so well and you’re bleeding,” the man said, looking into her unfocused blue gaze.
Grace felt herself falling further as darkness consumed her.
***
Five Hours Earlier
Grace and her friends, Dee and Amelia, had decided to take a load off after working all week at an upscale Italian restaurant named Geno’s. It had been Dee’s idea to try out a new bar that had recently opened up on Bourbon Street: The Night Life. It had rave online reviews and they were excited for a girls’ night out—it had been a long time coming.
Grace wasn’t one to drink often, but she felt the need to celebrate her recent promotion to assistant manager. The girls decided a night of partying and dancing would be the perfect start for Grace’s new beginning.
Taking a cab to St. Peter’s Street, Grace and her friends stepped out and began their ten-minute walk toward Bourbon Street.
“Grace, I’m so excited for you,” Dee said, jumping up and down in her high-heeled stilettos, interlocking her arm with Grace’s elbow. “It’s about time you let your hair down and lived a little.”
Dee was the most adventurous of the trio, with her long black locks, skin the color of creamy chocolate and bright, hazel green eyes that stopped just about any man dead in his tracks. She claimed to come from a magical background, but Grace and Amelia had always laughed her off. They didn’t believe in magic or anything supernatural, unlike many others in New Orleans.
“Thanks, girl. I’m a little nervous, but after everything I’ve put into that place, I definitely earned it, that’s for sure,” Grace replied. “I just wish Freddy would keep his hands to himself.” Her long, blonde hair blew in the breeze as her cornflower blue eyes sparkled from the reflected light of a nearby lamppost.
“You should’ve already turned his ass in,” Amelia said in a frustrated tone. “That’s unacceptable and I don’t know why you put up with it. I mean, I know you can handle yourself, but it’s not only you he harasses.” Her eyes were near glowing a harsh shade of blue as a strong gust of wind blew her long red curls around her face. She looked fierce. Amelia was the tallest of the three at five foot ten, and her crimson-colored hair matched her red-hot temper. She didn’t take crap from anyone.
“All right, Amelia. We know and, between the three of us, we’ll get his ass,” Dee said, nudging both Grace and Amelia at the same time, attempting to lighten the mood. “Don’t you worry about that, but tonight, there’s no shop talk. We’re gonna have fun; get our drink on, dance and if we’re really lucky, snag a few digits from hot men.”
“Dee’s right,” Grace agreed. “Let’s not think about it. I just want to have fun and check out this new club. I’ve heard nothing but good things about it.”
“Okay girls. Dress check! We’re almost there. Is everything where it’s supposed to be?” Dee asked, pointing to her emerald green, spaghetti strapped dress that hugged her curves just right, and hung just above her knees.
“You look gorgeous as usual. Not a thing out of place, except maybe your right boob. It’s lookin’ a little lopsided,” Grace said jokingly, trying to hold a straight face.
Amelia joined in. “Ya know, it really is hanging a little lower than your left one,” she said, but couldn’t hold it and burst out laughing with a snort.
“All right, biznatches. It’s on now. My girls are hangin’ just fine, thank you very much,” Dee shot back, laughing right along with them.
“No, seriously, you look gorgeous as always,” Grace said with a smile and side hugged her.
After sta
nding in line for nearly twenty minutes, the girls finally entered the dimly lit bar to a scene that made their jaws drop. Booths with tables were surrounded by plush, circular red leather couches that lined the far wall, with a wrought iron balcony just overhead that looked down upon a crowded dance floor. To their right was a long, stainless steel bar, with classy bar stools matching the red leather couches, meticulously placed throughout the entire length of the bar.
The smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol permeated the air as the trio continued to walk toward the long bar, bypassing exotic-looking women dressed in formal evening wear. They were standing behind a separate, black onyx bar top just in front of a red, silky curtain leading upstairs to what looked to be a VIP lounge, passing out free champagne to men and women just before they took the stairs.
“What’s going on up there?” Amelia asked as they watched three, scantily dressed women walk up the stairs toward the VIP lounge.
“Who knows, but I hope this isn’t some kinda hook up bar. Grace, are you sure about those reviews?” Dee asked, arching a brow as they took their seats at the bar.
“Yes, I’m sure and no, this isn’t a hook up bar. Don’t be silly, Dee. Young girls dress like that all the time these days.”
“Hey, we’re not that old,” Amelia snapped. “Twenty-seven is not old, Grace.”
“First round’s on me, then we’re gonna seek out one of those booths,” Dee said. “There’s an empty one near the steps and by the stage. The perfect spot.
“Sex on the Beach? Ya’ll know you need to get some,” she continued, joking, waggling her perfectly arched eyebrows.
Grace and Amelia eyed their friend, then burst out laughing at Dee’s antics and her not so subtle reference to Grace’s sex life, or lack thereof. They agreed on the fruity drink and went to find the unoccupied booth.
As they were maneuvering through a sea of sweaty bodies, holding their drinks above their heads, Grace felt as if she was being watched. She stopped, then turned her head, looking around the crowded dance floor, but no one was paying attention to her. When she looked toward the balcony, she saw a flash of green light, but it quickly disappeared. Her heart thundered in her chest when all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Grace stood in the middle of the dance floor, transfixed, eyes glued to the spot where the green glow had been. She blinked, and a mysterious-looking man appeared in the exact same place. He was watching her with the most intense green eyes she’d ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze moved over her body. His dark brown hair was cut short, but curled on the ends and his wide-set jaw and regal nose made him look like a man who belonged on a Hollywood movie set. He was dressed in a black button-down shirt and dark, loose-fitting jeans.
The man leaned on his elbows and motioned for Grace to come upstairs, but inside she was scared to death. Of what, she wasn’t quite sure; an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. She couldn’t look away. She was just standing in the middle of the dance floor, staring at a gorgeous man who made her insides melt and her heart race. It was as if her feet were glued to the floor. She had no idea what was going on in her head.
“Grace, snap out of it and come on,” Amelia barked, immediately snatching her elbow and dragging her toward their booth. “Our table’s waiting. What’s wrong with you?”
Once seated, Grace felt like she’d been put under some kind of spell. Her head was spinning and she’d yet to take a drink. That man—there’s something about his eyes, she thought to herself, then took a sip of her drink.
Amelia snapped her fingers in front of Grace’s face. “Earth to Grace. What that hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded. “Are you all right?”
“Um, nothing. There was just this man and a light. I, um… Oh, just forget it. I’m fine now. Maybe it was just the lights getting to me,” Grace said, trying to change the subject.
A blonde female server wearing a pair of skimpy, red sequined shorts and a red and black tank appeared at the table with a bottle of merlot, saying a gentlemen from the VIP section saw the three of them arrive and bought another bottle for them to drink later. They were asked to join the mystery man upstairs just before the band started.
“Thank you, I think?” Grace stammered.
“What? We’re not actually going up there, are we?” Amelia asked in a high-pitched voice, her blue eyes bulging.
“Hell yes, we are,” Dee replied, folding her hands under her chin with a cheesy smile. “What’s the worst that could happen? He’s a jerk and we walk our happy asses, with our free wine, back downstairs?”
“Um, okay, I guess. But let’s dance first,” Amelia said. “We’ve been sitting on our asses since we got here.”
“All right, girls, get those gorgeous buns movin’,” Dee said, snapping her fingers and motioning for everyone to get up.
They filed out of their booth after quickly finishing their drinks and moved toward the dance floor. It was almost time for the techno band to start playing and Grace wanted to be up front once they appeared on stage. She was feeling apprehensive about going upstairs after her strange encounter with the green-eyed stranger. Not that he wasn’t strikingly handsome, but there was something off about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
The three of them danced together, laughing and pushing away advancing men with grabby hands. At one point, a shorter man, who’d obviously had too much to drink, slipped his hand up the front of Dee’s dress.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, buddy? Got a death wish?” Dee yelled, grabbing the short, balding man by his collar and throwing him to the side into another dancing couple.
“Can you believe the nerve of that guy? This is getting creepy. What the—”
Another, much taller, dark-haired man with a crazed look in his gray eyes came up behind Amelia and began grinding his hips against her, pulling her toward him violently. She quickly grabbed his right hand, turned around and punched him in the face.
At the same time, a ginger-haired man around six feet tall grabbed Grace’s arm, jerking her forward, causing her to stumble. His eyes were stone cold and nearly black. Grace tried to yank her arm free from the strange man, but he was much stronger than her. She punched him in the gut and he doubled over in pain, still holding onto her arm in a death grip.
Dee hit the psycho with the palm of her hand, crushing his nose, causing him to immediately lose his grip on Grace’s arm. “Let’s get out of here,” she shouted, grabbing Amelia who was kicking another man in the groin for groping her breasts.
“What the hell’s going on around here? These people are crazy!” Amelia yelled over the booming crowd. “Aren’t there any bouncers in this place?”
Just as they were leaving the crowded dance floor, they were blocked by the same mysterious man Grace had seen earlier on the balcony. “Please excuse me. I saw what happened on the dance floor, and I assure you, those men are being escorted out as I speak,” the green-eyed man said in a deep, sultry voice.
“And you are?” Dee asked impatiently, with her arms folded against her chest.
“My name is Donavon. Allow me to escort you upstairs where your drinks will be on the house. I apologize for your troubles,” he replied, looking between the three women as they stared back in a daze, but only for a moment.
“I think we should leave. We’ve seen enough,” Grace said sternly, looking into his powerful green eyes. She told herself that she wouldn’t get lost in them again. In that moment, she noticed the dark stubble along his jaw, but tried not to think about how the man made her heart jolt or the deep dimple in his left cheek.
Donavon looked down at Grace’s five-foot-five frame with a mischievous grin as if reading her thoughts, and folded his muscular arms. “There’s so much more to see. You don’t know what you’re missing. And your name is?”
“Grace, and I’m sure it’s fine, but—”
“I think we should check it out,” Amelia said cutting her off. “Free drinks, and we
’re celebrating your promotion after all. You’ll watch over us, right, Donavon?” she asked with a flirtatious smile, nudging Grace’s shoulder.
“Of course. The three of you will be my honored guests,” he replied, never taking his eyes off of Grace.
“Your honored guests, huh? And just who are you?” Dee asked, arms still folded across her chest, arching a brow.
“I’m the owner of this establishment. That’s why I won’t stand for the type of behavior I witnessed from any of my patrons. This isn’t a place for hooligans.” He glanced at Dee, then back at Grace again.
Grace felt as if Donavon was undressing her with his eyes. He never took his eyes off of her. It was exhilarating and disturbing at the same time. She wondered why that man stirred so many mixed emotions inside of her.
“Fine, we’ll all go, but not for too long,” Grace relented.
“Very well. I’d be delighted if the three of you would sit with me and a few of my friends. I promise they won’t bite,” he said with a chuckle.
Amelia giggled and agreed while Dee and Grace followed reluctantly behind, each snatching a glass of champagne before they ascended the stairs. Once they reached the top, it was like entering a completely different place altogether.
Sections were blocked off with black painted walls, giving the appearance of privacy to guests, and the carpet was crimson red, with a black vine print running throughout. Black leather sectionals took up each private section, with small glass tables for drinks and food, while colorful pictures adorned the walls. The banister was wrought iron, but had a privacy glass that rose to the ceiling, blocking the noise from downstairs. If someone wanted to stand near the balcony, there was an entrance near the steps.
“Wow, this is unbelievable,” Grace said, looking around in awe, finally seeing yet another stainless steel bar at the far end of the VIP section.
“Thank you. I aim to please,” Donavon said in almost a whisper, as he placed his hand on the small of Grace’s back, guiding her to their own private corner.
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