Enslaved In Shadows (Shadow Unit Book 1)

by Tigris Eden

  “So ready,” Bells answered with a hop in her step as they headed out to their waiting taxi.

  # # #

  “This party is for guests of Cyrian’s.” The huge guy eyed Jesminda as if she were a nuisance. Idiot wouldn’t let her pass!

  “I grew up on this island and personally know Cyrian,” Jes spat back. She was irritated. One guy had already given her the boot last night after a mind-blowing bout of sex, but this one had better show her in.

  On the drive over, she kept replaying the events of the night before. The more she thought about it, the more she felt used. Didn’t matter she’d willingly participated. She felt rejected and out of sorts. Comes with the whole one-night stand code of conduct, let it go, she inwardly chastised herself.

  “Well, I’m sure he didn’t intend for you to come to this gathering,” the bouncer growled back. Bells sighed heavily at her side and smiled playfully up at him.

  “She’s with me, and Cyrian asked us personally to come here tonight.” The guy took one look at Bells and was hypnotized by her appearance. He stood straighter and even had the audacity to adjust his pants. Douche.

  “Fine, but don’t get mad if we play with the food.” He stated calmly.

  Play with the food? Now he was referring to her as food? Bells grabbed her hand and they walked into Odessa’s. The vibe of… something different thickened the air. Jes instinctively took a step back. There was an uncomfortable feeling to the atmosphere. Everyone danced to the thrum of the music, and for the first time in a long time, the bar was closed. The shadows behind the glass moved to and away from the window as fish and other marine life swam past.

  “This isn’t right,” Bells whispered. Her hand tightening painfully on Jesminda’s arm as she started backing them towards the door. There was an audible gasp from some people in the crowd surrounding them as they tried to walk back. Jes didn’t argue. She could tell the scene wasn’t right. The DJ in the corner said something she couldn’t understand then the sound of Kanye West and Jay Z’s “No Church in the Wild” started playing. Heads looked up from their positions on the dance floor. Nameless faces stared back at Jesminda with glowing eyes of gold and red. There were a couple of black eyes, as well. Were they wearing contacts?

  As she scanned the crowd, her gaze fell on a pair of forest green eyes that stared back at her in recognition from the corner. The same dark corner as last night, now illuminated by candles. The bottom of the floor must have opened some ghostly vortex and swallowed her whole! This couldn’t be happening; she was in an alternate universe where embarrassment was served hot, not cold. But it was happening. There, in the shadows with him, was a woman plastered to his body, nuzzling his neck. It was like the woman could read her mind because the moment the thought left Jes’s brain, the woman lifted her head and slowly turned to smile. Blood stained the corners of her mouth. A lump formed in Jes’s throat and it bloomed, weighing painfully on her vocal cords. The air in her lungs evacuated her body with such force it took her to her knees. Yep, it was the vortex.

  Fucking bastard! It was a one-night stand. Compose yourself, twit. Weren’t there rules to these things? Did he have to hook up with the next girl he came across, the very next night, and in the same dark corner? No honor among sleaze is what it was. She’d wanted to be carefree and experience the wild side of life. And for her troubles, all she got was rejection and pain. Being in control was safer. Not damaging to one’s self-esteem. Granted, it was self-inflicted, as she had no ties to him, but it still hurt like hell. She was so done with this shit! Jes picked herself up and dusted off her jeans. A small crowd of men with glowing red eyes were headed in her direction. The heat of their stare scared her. All kinds of warning bells went off in her head, but the music was so loud it sounded muffled in her ears. She just needed to get out of there and away from him. Then she’d be okay. The shame of seeing him was immobilizing her, gluing her heels to the floor, making it difficult for her feet to move.

  Bells’ hands dug painfully into her arm causing Jes to flinch. Bells all but dragged her up and towards the front entrance. They continued to move towards the exit and the much-needed fresh air. She should have said something to him. Anything! Instead, like an idiot she’d fallen to the floor. How stupid was that? She was made of tougher stock! Her mother always said hope was for fools. What exactly were you hoping for? She didn’t know. Something. A phone number, a name? Anything. Well, she wasn’t expecting what she got back inside the club, that’s for sure. Should she have been? Fuck if she knew the rules to one-night stands. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed so kind and caring to her in the jungle, at least until he’d left. Maybe she was that naïve. He fucked your brains out and left you there. How nice is that?

  Tears threatened to make an appearance, but she wasn’t about to cry over him. She’d be damned if she’d recognize the betrayal and utter loss she felt seeing him with the other woman.

  This island was full of dark secrets and superstitions. Her grandmother had told her Belmopan was the cradle of hell, the gateway for all intents and purposes. She could believe it with the heat here. Obviously, Cyrian capitalized on that myth if the club’s private party tonight was anything to go by. The patron’s eyes had all glowed, and the manner in which they were carrying on proved they were enjoying themselves. Bodies writhing, low moans of excitement filling the air, and then there was him. With his new one-night stand. At least she’d have the time of her life, Jes thought flippantly. She wished it was her, and trying to pretend otherwise was pointless.

  “‘I’m ready to go home,” Bells said.

  “Me too, let’s leave this place.”

  “Smartest thing we’ve done the entire trip. I’ll pack our stuff when we get back to your parents’. You get some rest.” Jes rubbed the outside of her arms to ward off a chill that wasn’t present, and they both walked toward the street in silence. Deception was tricky. Could she even call it that? He’d warned her, told her it was a one-time deal. She sighed as Bells signaled a taxi. Her body wasn’t programmed for one-night stands, not someone like her.

  5

  (Five years later)

  “Morning, gentlemen… let’s all take our seats and get right to business. It’s late, and I need to brief you on the latest Intel.” The captain cleared his throat as he watched his men get to their seats. It wasn’t every day his men had a case this momentous. Opening the file, he mentally sighed. There was no photo of the mortal woman, and the fact that she wasn’t the only one needing protection made this case all the more sensitive.

  Captain Dravaggio stood at the front of the room and waited. He adjusted his tie and suit coat, but out of frustration, took the jacket and tie off just as quickly. Suits were not Dravaggio’s thing. Give him a broadsword, hell a dagger even, and he’d be happy. This protocol shit was ridiculous. No one said the anger management classes weren’t working. Normally, he’d be insane with frustration. Instead, he waited patiently for his team to collect themselves so he could begin. As his men took their seats, he took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. The warmth of the liquid calmed his nerves. This case was serious. His entire team wasn’t assembled, but what men were present would be enough to get the job done.

  “What we have here is simple,” he began. “A biracial mortal female who is aware of our kind since her ex-husband sold—still sells—VAB. She needs our help, and we need information.” Vampire blood AB was lethal in large doses, and was illegal to peddle on the streets by anyone. Dravaggio assumed the husband, Marcus, was a mortal. How was he able to get ahold of VAB? What vampire was willing to become a juice box to amp up a bunch of humans or nonhumans?

  There were only three Royal House castes of Vampiri. If you weren’t affiliated with them, you were just like every other human who walked the streets. You were called a Reg or Regular. Those considered special received sanctuary. It was the only way to become part of their house. Something to do with their blood’s negative RH factor. They could munch on the blood of any
human without suffering any adverse reactions. And because of their demon ancestry they had fangs, where Regs did not.

  All vampiri were AB negative. Vampiri were born, not infected with some virus or curse. There was no such thing as a bite turning you fangy. That shit only happened in movies. Vampiri were born to mortal parents, and because of some genetic mutation, you either were or weren’t a vampire. Most children died within the first six months after puberty. Something the humans couldn’t figure out. They thought it was because of anemia. The kids died because their blood cells were disintegrating at a rapid rate, and no new cells were there to replenish their blood. Vampiri could eat and drink normal food just as much as the next human. Hell, they could even go out during the day, although they preferred not to. The sun caused degeneration of their red blood cells, causing them to require the consumption of more blood. They didn’t have any special abilities, and half of the immortal population ignored them altogether. The Regs who couldn’t get to a supply of blood before their cells died usually became the Unit’s biggest headache. They’d break into blood banks, depleting the stores in mass quantities. Or, they went out and killed. The blood they consumed had to be compatible, however. There were many unsuccessful trials early on that proved as much. But a Regs’ body was just like every other creature on the planet; it learned to survive and adapt. Mutate. Their senses were heightened so they could smell their victims, and they lived longer than average as the renewed blood kept them in top form. The infamous Vlad the Impaler was said to have drank the blood of an immortal with an infected strain of demon blood.

  This became the Vampiri effect. They couldn’t turn humans, but they evolved. Those suffering from the Vampiri effect were everything Hollywood made them out to be and more, with a few un-truths. They were unaffected by holy water or garlic. They had no problems with any religious artifacts, and they could go out in daylight with no ill effects.

  Marcus was pedaling the high quality stuff. Someone was kidnapping members of Royal House Deadcrest. Their blood was not only a stimulant, but it also held remarkable healing properties and made mortals feel invincible. The high would last for days, but when it wore off, coming down was deadly. Some said it had to do with the Deadcrests’ demon ancestry from the first strain of the evolution. In addition, any immortal who engaged in the drug, succumbed to what equaled to a crack addiction in human terms. It was a high they didn’t want to come down from. An immortal addicted was bad. Marcus threatened the immortals’ way of life. Most humans knew nothing of immortals. There were rules, and Marcus and his band of idiots were breaking them.

  Dravaggio knew this had everything to do with the missing vampire cases they’d been working on for the past eighteen months. But he needed the human woman to put the pieces together for them; she could be their only hope.

  More and more, his recruit Oliver Deadcrest was becoming a danger to himself and the team. His daughter was one of the missing Vampiri. She’d disappeared six months ago, taken while she was out with her friends at a dive that catered to Royal House members.

  “Marcus’s wife is on the run. The details are sketchy, but I need full disclosure on her ex-husband’s drug operation. This woman is the key.” Dravaggio knew she was the missing link this case needed, and he wanted to see it through to the end.

  Oliver was the first to raise a question.

  “Yes, Olly?” Oliver was one of the oldest living Regs within a hundred mile radius. His family was the most affected by the missing Vampiri. Dagas, leader of House Deadcrest, was a constant thorn in his side, asking questions Dravaggio could not give him answers to. He may be the House’s leader, but he was still a civilian. Oliver was in service to House Deadcrest, he was also Dagas’ brother-in-law. Dagas thought the relationship stretched into the Unit, allowing him special treatment. He was wrong.

  “Do you think this has something to do with the missing vampiri?” Oliver asked.

  “Yes, and this is why I agreed to offer her aid in exchange for information. There are no photos of her. She’s been secluded away from the main population for over five years. Clearly, her ex-husband Marcus Reinhold knew he’d be targeted, so he kept a close eye on her. From speaking with her over the phone, she sounds strong, and is willing to cooperate with our team to the best of her ability. She’s agreed to come down to the station. She wants to meet the team, and I wanted to make sure everyone was here. Front and center. The assignment starts tonight.”

  The Shadow Unit had been put together because of immortals coming out to top government officials around the world. It’d been over twenty years since the first official vampire sighting, and ten years since the entire population of immortals revealed themselves to the highest governing officials.

  Governments all around the globe agreed that the world’s population would go into mass hysteria if they discovered that all things that went bump in the night and roamed during the day were real. The plan was simple: integrate and stay hidden from the world, live amicably in peace among humans, and don’t fuck up. Unfortunately, many immortals didn’t like the rules. The Shadow Unit was put together to police the idiots and uphold order. A large population unaffiliated with the government knew of their existence. They found out in various ways, and eventually tried to capitalize on what they knew. The consequences of revealing an immortal’s existence were deadly. There were still some that felt bowing out of a war with humans was not in their best interest. The Shadow Unit was spread around the world in teams of nine. Dravaggio’s team handled two states in the southern part of the United States - Texas and Louisiana.

  Until eighteen months ago, they were not only on target, but casualties were at their lowest. Then Vampiri started to disappear from House Deadcrest.

  “Agent Stone, I want you to handle this in its entirety and keep me posted.”

  Olly was the first to stand and speak against the captain’s decision, as did Agent Stone.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it, Captain,” Olly began. “I should be the front man on this. Besides, Stone’s a wolf, What the hell can he accomplish?”

  Captain Dravaggio looked over at Olly and then back to Stone.

  “Is there something you have to tell us, Olly? Something we weren’t aware of when it comes to your kind?” Royal families, although they could go out in the day, had certain protocols. Rules that extended into the vicinity of Dravaggio’s team. He would have preferred Oliver on the case, but Olly was newly integrated into the Royal Family. He and his daughter. It didn’t matter that he’d been a part of the group for over a hundred years. To House Deadcrest, Oliver was a baby at best, and still hadn’t taken the blood vows with his wife. Oliver was considered a Reg by design.

  “Sir?”

  “House protocol prevents your help in this, does it not? Is Dagas still enforcing slave law?” Dravaggio growled.

  Olly’s brows arched into his hairline, and his face contorted with anger. Dravaggio could see the heat in his eyes when he sat back in his chair and mumbled “yes”.

  “What was that, Olly? I couldn’t hear you. Speak up.”

  Olly’s eyes flared wide before he closed them and spoke louder so everyone could hear. Not that they needed to, but Dravaggio wasn’t going to have his men thinking they could all speak out of turn.

  “Yes.” Olly sneered.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dravaggio began pacing at the front of the room but continued speaking.

  “I’m told the woman has one other family member - her five-year-old daughter.”

  Stone took that moment to curse under his breath, but so did the other men sitting at the table. Dravaggio knew they would disapprove, but he didn’t care. This woman had information that could help them recover the missing Vampiri. Case closed. Enough said.

  “Obviously, you can understand the danger she’s in because she has Marcus’s daughter. He wants the girl back, and he wants his ex-wife dead. I’ve checked the boards, and there is a five-million dol
lar bounty on her head. He’s not fucking around. We assume Marcus Reinhold is mortal. We have reports that he’s suffered injuries on several occasions. His family practices Obeah back in his homeland of Belize. I have some contacts in the spirit realm, and I’ve made inquiries, but nothing has surfaced yet. We need to know where he’s getting the VAB from. Who he’s supplying, and anything else that will help. As I said, and as Olly pointed out, this could have something to do with our missing persons cases.” It did, but he didn’t say that out loud.

  Dravaggio finished his briefing and walked out of the room. He knew Stone wasn’t happy about the assignment, but he didn’t care. This was his case, and the wolf was going to do the job regardless.

  # # #

  This shit was for the birds. Hell, this shit was for anyone other than him. Why did he have babysitting duty? All they needed was to get the information from the mortal, and then drop her and her luggage at a warded safe house. He could get the witches to conjure up a spell that would stop anyone from going anywhere near her or her child. Draven ran a hand over his face and continued walking towards his office. He’d joined the Shadow Unit over five years ago and never once regretted signing on, but today he seriously considered rethinking his occupation. Babysitting was not part of his service delivery.

  The bastard Marcus had to be mortal. His family practiced Obeah. That had to be how he learned things humans shouldn’t know. Stone decided he’d talk to his old contact Cyrian. He still ran Odessa’s. Maybe he’d heard of Marcus and could give Draven information.

  His stomach hurt at the memories of being in Belize; an experience that was burned into his soul. Etched so deep he still dreamed about her. Another memory that not only stung but caused serious pain to him and his wolf. His delicate flower eyeing him as he sat entangled with a Reg named Chloe. He’d wanted to take that night back a million times, but never could. Fuck, it was one night, that’s it. But that one night had had a lasting impression that followed him from Belize all the way back to the States.