Marked by a Vampire (The Hybrid Coven Book 1)

by Angela Sanders

  Dee continued to chuckle and left them to adjust themselves.

  “How embarrassing was that?” Grace whispered, looking at Matthew still trying to fix her shirt—somehow her bra had gotten tangled, it was a mess. Matthew had it almost all the way over her head before Dee walked in, but damn it felt good to be with a man. A gorgeous one at that. Kind, gentle, gorgeous. Yeah, she already mentioned that. Oh, and he was a hybrid, another plus.

  Matthew just shook his head. “Take a look at what you’ve done to me. And I’m expected to walk out like this,” he said with his hands pointing toward his nether regions.

  “Oh,” Grace giggled. “Sorry about that. It’s not like I expected this to happen. I was only coming in here to chew you out and then you had to kiss me. It’s your own fault,” she countered, teasing him.

  “We better get going. I’ll be all right,” he said with a chuckle.

  Chapter 10

  Donavon paced the length of his darkened bedroom, fuming. He was going to kill that hybrid bastard for touching what was his if it was the last thing that he ever did. He could feel the precise moment when Grace’s magic awoke inside of her. He saw the display spike from her fingertips in his mind. He also felt her emotions when she kissed that piece of shit. She was his and would know it tonight when he ripped her new lover’s head from his shoulders.

  A resounding knock on his bedroom door interrupted his internal rant. “What do you want, Caleb?” he seethed, running his hand through his dark brown hair.

  Caleb opened the door slightly. “Master, we have news of the girl. She is—”

  “Has a name,” Donavon interrupted, irritated that Grace had transformed into a hybrid. He had no idea she was a witch or how he didn’t sense it when they met. That was no matter. He still held a strong connection and would force her to drink his blood and make her his. The magic running through her veins was of no consequence. Grace reminded him too much of his beloved Hannah—she had to be her reincarnated soul. Their similarities were too striking, even the sound of Grace’s voice was the same, her scent—everything.

  Hannah had been stolen from him nearly a century ago, dying mysteriously. Donavon had awoken one evening to find her body lying beside him, devoid of life. He had raged, wondering if she’d somehow been poisoned or if God had punished him for his sins. That only enraged him further. Hannah was his mate, his heart and reason for living.

  Now that he had found Grace, he knew she was to be his intended mate, but he would have to make her remember—damned hybrid or not. His elite vampire blood could change her; that he was almost certain of.

  “Yes, sire. Grace.” He bowed his head, then stepped through the door. “Her friend believes she is staying at the old Briar Plantation.”

  Donavon let out an aggravated breath and glared. “The two of you are useless. I know of her location. We are mentally connected through my mark,” he said, pointing toward his head. “However, she is being protected by hybrids and witches.”

  “Hybrids?” Caleb spat. “Low-life, half breed scum.”

  “It appears my Grace is now a hybrid,” Donavon said as he began pacing the length of his room with his hands folded behind his back. “Her magic may come in handy for what’s left of our dying breed.”

  “This is true, master.” Caleb walked a bit further into the room and asked, “What shall I do with the new recruit? She’s quite annoying.”

  Donavon stopped pacing and flew toward Caleb in a blur, slamming him against the wall, his hand clutched tightly around his throat. “Your damn job, you imbecile. Keep her happy. You have but one job, yet you complain,” he snarled, fangs bared. He released Caleb’s throat and threw him into the hallway. “Get out of my sight until sundown and send in Tristan.” Donavon turned his back, then kicked the door closed.

  ***

  Caleb picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his throat. He inclined his head toward his master in affirmation before the door slammed in his face, then turned to locate Tristan. He had no idea why Donavon was so obsessed with the woman, Grace. He’d slowly been losing his mind over the past century since Hannah died, but Caleb had stood by his side through it all. Sure, the women were similar in looks, but Donavon’s fixation had become dangerous.

  They were brothers, turned by the same maker—or at least they used to be like brothers. Now, Donavon treated him as no more than a slave and insisted he was their master.

  He, Tristan and Donavon were the last of their kind—an ancient breed of vampires descended from the first vampire, a fallen angel named Lucidious. Caleb thought about their creator, then about how much Donavon had changed over the years. He wondered if it had anything to do with God’s curse. Was it slowly driving him insane?

  Lucidious was the brother of Lucifer, the one no one ever spoke of and for good reason. While the devil himself was evil, Lucidious was cursed by God to walk the earth in darkness and to survive only on the blood of humans. If he could control his bloodlust by using the added powers God had bestowed upon him, his curse would’ve been broken. God had wanted him to use his powers for good to help overcome his curse, but that was never to be so.

  Lucidious was like no angel God had ever created. He was jealous and power-hungry. God thought by cursing him to live in darkness, he would learn humility and grace. Lucidious took it as a challenge. The powers God had granted him were extraordinary—he could invade the human mind with only a thought, change his appearance, use sorcery and enter one’s dreams to possess them if he chose to do so. Those were only a few of the immense powers given to him and Lucidious never once thought of his new life as one of darkness and punishment, but one of games and frolic. He soon learned he could procreate by bringing a human near death, then feeding them his blood, thus creating what was now called a vampire.

  Lucidious’ greed and selfishness was what became his undoing. When God saw all that he had done, he sent the Archangel Michael, His most fearsome warrior, to behead him one night in the streets of eighteenth century Paris. By that time, Lucidious had created nearly one hundred descendants and God decided to let them be. He knew the new world would sort most of them out—war would be coming soon and His humans were hungry for blood. At this, God could not interfere with the free will of men, only love and guide them through prayer.

  More than half of the elite vampire race was extinguished during the French Revolutionary Wars. The ones who remained, moved on to the new world, now known as the United States of America. As the years passed by, their numbers continued to dwindle, dying mysteriously. Vampire bloodlines became tainted and less powerful, one never as strong as the first, until there was no trace of the original vampire left in their bloodstream.

  Caleb walked briskly down the vast hallway leading to Tristan’s quarters. When he stopped to knock on the wooden door he heard multiple voices. Tristan was entertaining guests—two to be exact. Caleb took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles on the door.

  Tristan’s normally gelled blonde hair was a mess of loose curls on top of his head. His hazel eyes were glowing in annoyance when he saw Caleb standing on the other side of the door. “What does he want now?” he asked, pulling his black silk robe around him, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

  “I’m not sure, but he’s in one of his moods. I would tread lightly. He nearly removed my head from my shoulders at the mention of the girl.”

  “He’s lost his shit, man. What’s so damned special about this girl? She’s not Hannah. Does he think he can renew our bloodline? He’s been told more than once it’s impossible,” Tristan said, leaning against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I’m not sure,” Caleb replied. “But whatever the obsession is, he’s got it bad.” He nodded toward Tristan’s door. “Best get rid of your company. It’s your turn to babysit.” He smirked and walked away before Tristan could protest.

  “Asshole. I have to meet with his majesty. You watch her!” Tristan shouted, standing in the middle of the hall
way holding his arms out to the side.

  “Not my problem,” Caleb threw over his shoulder with a chuckle. He was done being abused by Donavon, at least for the next few hours. It was time for a nap until sundown. Then the hunt for the girl was on. Maybe once Donavon found Grace he’d stop being such a little bitch boy.

  ***

  Tristan watched as his brother walked away. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be near Amelia, he couldn’t. Her scent was enticing, everything about the new vampire lured him in and it scared him. He was never one to commit to another and he thought if he gave in to his urges, she would be hurt in the end. He didn’t want to risk it as her maker.

  Instead of “watching” the girl, he entertained guests to otherwise occupy his thoughts. However, those women couldn’t stop him from dreaming of Amelia when he slept. He decided sleep was overrated and drank, but that only seemed to bring on more erotic dreams once he passed out. Tristan knew he had to do something, but what?

  Donavon was only using Amelia as a tool to find Grace—she was expendable in his eyes. He’d told Tristan on more than one occasion that he was going to kill her once Grace was found. Tonight was the last straw—there was no way he would allow Donavon or anyone else to harm her. He needed Amelia in his life and couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. He had to come up with a plan before sunset.

  Chapter 11

  “Everything all worked out?” Liz asked with a slight grin when Matthew and Grace entered the family room.

  Matthew watched as Grace glared at Dee, her face lit up like a cherry tomato, then she looked back to Liz. “Yes, thank you.” she replied. “So, when are we leaving?”

  Matthew continued walking toward the couch and took a seat. He could feel Grace’s embarrassment and had no idea what had come over him. It wasn’t like him to lose control, but Grace was special. There was something about her that called to him—he had no explanation. His heart raced in his chest when he thought of their sensual encounter in the dining room.

  “We were discussing protection potions, actually. We won’t be leaving for at least another hour,” Liz answered.

  “Okay. Will you teach me how to make these potions? Are they safe? I feel so lost and have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  “I will when we have more time, but for now you can use what I have,” Liz offered. “I never leave home without them.”

  Dee interrupted when Grace sat down beside her. “You’ve never touched anything magical or had to ingest potion of any kind. I understand if you’re somewhat hesitant, but trust me, it won’t hurt you,” she said, placing her hand on Grace’s knee in an attempt to calm her racing thoughts.

  ***

  Grace wasn’t necessarily nervous about the potion, only about whether or not it would work now that she was a hybrid. How was she supposed to know? “Will it change me or affect me differently? I’m not a regular witch,” she said looking around the room.

  Genevieve must have sensed Grace’s reluctance and took it upon herself to assuage her fears of the unknown. “It will protect you from dark magic and, hopefully, lessen the connection with Donavon.” She paused then continued, “The potion is designed to protect one from evil. It doesn’t matter that you are a hybrid now.”

  Grace felt somewhat relieved. If the potion could keep Donavon from taking over her body or invading her mind, that was definitely a plus. She wasn’t certain if that was what Genevieve was alluding to, but Donavon was evil and the potion protected against it, so she was willing to take her chances. She also hoped she had time to practice her magic again before it was time to leave.

  “All right. That makes sense. Do you mind, now that Liz is here, if we try to get my magic working again?” she asked. “I’d like to be prepared for anything, just in case.”

  Dee raised a brow. “Do you think you can try not to set the house on fire this time?” she teased.

  Genevieve smiled at Dee, then glanced back at Grace. “I’m sure that won’t be an issue. Elizabeth, do you mind helping us create another protective circle for Grace?”

  “Not at all,” Liz replied. “Matthew, where are your candles? It’ll be much more efficient if we use them when we create the circle, allowing more protection and it’ll help keep Grace centered. We’ll use it to bond our magic together.”

  “I’ll retrieve four from the dining room,” Matthew said as he got up from the couch. He glanced toward Grace before leaving and heard “Thank you” in her thoughts. Hearing her voice in his mind caused a tingle to rush down his spine, but he kept a straight face and continued walking.

  “All right, girls, we only have a short time before we have to prepare to leave,” Genevieve said. “We need to keep this simple and remember, Grace, clear your mind and focus on nothing but the ancestors and the magic that is inside of you.”

  “Yes, this will be different than what we did before,” Dee added. “You’ll be linked to all of our magic this time when we call upon the ancestors.”

  Liz nodded in agreement and asked if Grace had any questions. She only shook her head. She wasn’t exactly sure how it would play out, but she knew with three experienced witches by her side everything would be all right.

  Matthew arrived a few minutes later with four thick white candles and placed them on the coffee table. Liz thanked him and began picking them up to create the circle. “Let me help you with that,” Dee offered, taking two candles from Liz’s arms.

  “Thank you, Dee. Place them in front of the fireplace in a circular formation if you don’t mind,” Liz said.

  After situating the candles in the circle, Genevieve asked each of the girls to take a seat behind one. She sat closest to the fireplace with Liz to her right and Dee to her left. Grace was in between the two facing Genevieve. Matthew was to observe from the couch as he did the time before to ensure nothing went awry.

  Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clearing her mind of everything that had transpired over the course of the day, including Matthew—that was the most difficult. His kiss kept invading the deepest recesses of her thoughts, but she was finally able to push them away and focus on praying to the ancestors. She silently prayed for their guidance, strength and protection from evil forces set out to destroy her.

  One by one, Liz lit each candle with the touch of her finger and Grace had to remind herself to focus. She definitely wanted to learn how to do that. Once the candles were lit, Genevieve instructed everyone to hold hands, close their eyes, and concentrate on the power within the circle.

  Genevieve led the incantation:

  Ancients and Ancestors we call upon thee.

  Lend us your powers of strength and serenity.

  Protect us this night from evil which we cannot sense.

  We draw upon the powers of these witches hence

  Bonding the power of four, let us see.

  So we have called it,

  So shall it be.

  Everyone chanted the spell in perfect unison and when it was recited the third time a bright, intermingling magical light of blue, white, orange, pink and green surrounded the circle. The women raised their joined hands, feeling the combined magic pulse inside of them.

  Grace took a deep breath when she felt the witches’ magic soar throughout her body. She thought it would feel foreign—wrong, but instead it filled a part of her she didn’t know was missing. Her body was alive with power, radiating from head to toe. When she opened her eyes and looked to Genevieve, she nodded back to her with a small smile. The women slowly lowered their hands as the magical display began to dim.

  When the candles went out of their own accord, the spell was complete. “That was amazing. I’ve never felt so alive, so… I can’t explain it,” Grace trailed off, looking around in awe.

  Genevieve took Grace’s hand in her own. “Our magic is a gift passed down from our ancestors, but you must never forget that God bestowed these blessings upon us. They are only to be used for the greater good,” she said.

  “I no
w understand why it has to be kept secret. It truly is a gift and I’m so grateful to have it,” Grace said looking down at her still-glowing hands.

  Dee leaned over and hugged her while Liz smiled at the two of them. It wasn’t every day Liz was able to witness a new witch access her powers. “I’m so happy to welcome you to our world,” Dee said, then added, “but now for the ugly stuff. We have work to do and a vampire to get rid of. Are you ready?”

  “You bet I am. After the day I’ve had, I’m ready for just about anything.”

  Matthew silently collected the candles after the girls went upstairs to freshen up and to fill Grace in on what they were doing first. Genevieve had already packed her van full of supplies just in case she wasn’t able to subdue these vampires with her magic—a stake to the heart would have to do until Liz sent their souls to God for redemption.

  Chapter 12

  Amelia paced what she now considered her darkened prison. Sure, it was nicely furnished with an en suite bathroom, but she didn’t give a shit. She wanted her old life back. What had she gotten herself into? A night out with friends and making out with a hot guy turned into a freakin’ nightmare of her own making. To say she was pissed would be an understatement. The asshole had made her a vampire! He was kind and gentle at first, but then he ignored her.

  She barely remembered what had happened after leaving the club with Dee. When she woke the following evening, she wasn’t in her apartment, but in the godforsaken room where she was now. Her transition hadn’t been pleasant. She felt her body die—it had been excruciating when Tristan drained her life’s blood. She felt as her heart slowed, then there was nothingness.

  When Amelia rose again, she was alive and on fire with an insatiable craving for human blood. It had been unnerving, to say the least. She was mortified until Tristan had come to reassure her that this new life would bring her happiness. She now knew he was full of shit. She was miserable.