“A void to be filled?” Elijah asks, and Stella nods.
“In a way, though the void must be filled, it’s not as though they are born with extra magic.”
“But they could steal it,” I whisper, thinking of Beatrice and how Aoife said whoever killed her did it by taking her magic. “Steal it and put it inside the void.” Is that who killed her? A Lunar Witch?
“Yes.” Stella sighs. “Most of The Lunar Witches don’t even understand that they have this ability; those born with power can choose good or evil. It’s based on how they are raised. Sadly, most of the ones killed have been innocents unaware they were being hunted.”
“Was the woman you sent to Elijah a Lunar Witch?”
She nods sadly. “She was one I brought under my wing for protection after Delaney’s warning.”
“Why did they never come for me?” I ask. “I was born on Halloween, and obviously, it isn’t a secret I come from a witch bloodline.” The Astors are the only lineage of hunter born of both the original witch and the original hunter. Something Elijah filled me in on back in Salem.
It makes us targets even as it gives us a boost to our abilities.
“I assume that either they didn’t know about you, or they didn’t believe you were a threat.”
“They do now,” Elijah says, his voice taut with emotion. “Someone’s trying to kill her.”
“I feared as much. I’ve seen the crows.”
I stiffen. “The crows? You’ve seen crows?”
“Yes, though they are not for me.”
“Crows?” Elijah asks.
“I saw three of them in the alley beside the club, the night I was jumped, and at the trailer where Ramirez and I were attacked, the alley across from my apartment, and the rooftop where we were attacked and he was bitten.”
“All places where you nearly died.”
“Yes. And the witch from yesterday? She’d drawn three black crows in charcoal. They were sitting on her kitchen counter.”
“You’ve seen them four times?”
I rack my brain, trying to remember where else I might have seen the crows. It was always here in Billings, and always right before I nearly died. An image pops into my mind, three black crows sitting on my dresser.
Hands grabbing my ankles.
I shake my head.
“You saw something. What was it?” Stella asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“I think I saw them in my room? In a nightmare maybe? I don’t really remember.”
“Tell me exactly what you saw,” Stella orders, scooting closer to the edge of her seat.
“It’s blurry.” I look to her and Elijah. He’s watching me, his steady gaze a reminder that I’m not alone. Not like I used to be. “I was in bed with Elijah, and then something grabbed me.” I glance down at my ankles. The scratches. “Hands pulled me to the edge of the bed. Three black crows were perched on my dresser.” Pain pinches behind my eyes, so I press my thumb and index finger to the bridge of my nose. “I don’t remember anything else.”
“The scratches.” Elijah mimics my thought.
“What scratches?” Stella asks, curiously.
“When I woke up this morning, my ankles were covered in scratches. Deep ones, but I don’t remember how it happened.”
“She woke on the floor,” Elijah adds.
Stella leans back, pursing her lips together as she considers. “I fear you are being targeted by someone trapped in the otherworld.”
“The otherworld?”
“Our world is separated from another by a thin veil. It keeps them from being able to reach us—to speak into our ears. Based on what you’ve told me, someone is trying to contact you from there, or worse—pull you with them.”
“But who? Who would do that? Could it be Delaney?” Possibly a fae? Didn’t Aoife say she was in the veil when that prince found her?
Stella shakes her head sadly. “I have no clue, Hunter, though I will caution you to beware the crows.” She meets my gaze, and a chill runs up my spine. “They are calling for your death.”
9
Elijah
“This is just fucking perfect,” Rainey starts as we head through the garage to the back door of her apartment building. “So, not only do I have to be concerned that supernaturals want me dead, but now someone in the great beyond wants me to have a date with the Reaper, too. When the hell does this end? Let’s not even add in the fact that your ex has decided to grace us with her incredibly beautiful presence.”
I shake my head. I can’t touch on Aoife, and to be honest, she’s the least of our problems at the moment. I protect Rainey from other vampires, witches, and from shifters. But how the hell am I supposed to shield her from what I cannot see? If someone—or something—is trying to pull her through the veil…they could get their hands on her anytime her guard is dropped.
Farah may have told me Rainey will remain standing—but that doesn’t mean shit if she’s no longer in this world. “I think we should stay at my place.”
She turns to me, and I see the fight—the argument reflected in her eyes.
“I know you are a hunter, Rainey, that you’re also a homicide detective with survival instincts out of your perfectly shaped ass. But you’ve nearly died four different times plus once in your sleep while I lay beside you, completely unaware. As much as I’d love to stay awake for the foreseeable future, it’s not possible. I need you safe.”
“We were already attacked once in your place,” she insists. “Remember?”
“How could I forget?” It was the day I told Rainey what I was, the day she tried to kill me and probably would have if we weren’t interrupted by two vampire bounty hunters looking to cash in on my head. “But that’s not the place I’m talking about,” I tell her.
Rainey’s fingers brush the metal handle before she turns to look at me, her eyes narrowed. She looks past me and growls.
“What is it?” Turning, I take note of three black crows sitting on the hood of a car about four yards in front of us.
“Crows. What the hell do you three want?” she demands, taking a step toward them. “I don’t—” she trails off, and I imagine it’s because she heard the same faint footsteps I did. The rapidly beating hearts are next, and I know we’re no longer alone.
“Vampires,” she whispers moments before bullets ricochet off the concrete by our heads.
Rainey lunges for me, slamming us both to the floor, and we take cover behind an older truck.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
With Rainey beside me, I attempt to sit up enough to see whoever is shooting at us. Another bullet hits concrete, spraying dust particles through the air.
“I’m getting really fucking tired of nearly dying.” Reaching into her boot, Rainey withdraws a dagger. I’ve noticed that while she sometimes uses a longer blade, the dagger is her weapon of choice. “I thought I was supposed to be shielded from trackers?”
“It only works if they don’t know where to find you,” I retort.
Pursing her lips, she uses her hand to signal that she wants to go to the right while I move to the left. I nod.
With a smile, I cloak myself and disappear. Rainey’s eyes widen as she searches for me. Reaching up, I trail a finger over her jaw, enjoying the way she relaxes into my touch even when we’re facing a fight.
I stand and walk toward the attackers. There are three of them—all vampires—and they’re carefully searching around each vehicle. To my left, Rainey is creeping closer and closer, her heartbeat a steady thump just a bit faster than a human. I get into position, waiting until she’s close enough to help with the other assholes.
As soon as she’s within a few yards, I reach up and grab the closest vampire by the hair. He screams for just a moment—but that scream turns gurgled when I rip his head right off his shoulders.
Blood sprays me, and the other two howl with rage, firing their silenced weapons at me.
Three bul
lets.
All in my fucking stomach.
Pain explodes in my abdomen, but before I drop my cloak and lunge for the other two, Rainey attacks. She spins, dropping one vamp to the ground and driving her dagger into his throat. As she does, she flips over and knocks the gun from the final vamp’s hand.
He balls up his fists and lunges for her, but she rolls to the side, and his head goes through the window of a maroon sedan.
Before he can recover, she rips him backward and drives a second blade up into his jaw. Then, she tosses his body to the ground and rolls her shoulders.
I’m reminded again that she’s not just the woman I love—she’s a badass fighter—and more than capable of keeping herself safe.
There’s no damsel in need of saving here; that’s for damn sure.
She straightens, retrieving both daggers and turning in a circle. Cheeks flushed, her breathing becomes ragged, and I can feel her panic. “Elijah? Where the hell are you?”
Shit, forgot to drop it. “I’m here.” I drop my cloak, and she immediately relaxes the moment she can see me. At least until her gaze drops to my blood-soaked shirt. Then, she shakes her head. “What the hell, Elijah. The goal is to not get hit with bullets.”
“Apparently, I missed that memo.” I lift my shirt and stare down at my blood-smeared but unmarred skin. “See, good as new.”
Lips pursed, she nods and glances down at the three now-dead vampires. “Think Tarnley is up for a job?”
I pull out my phone and tap his contact. “We’ll see.”
He answers on the first ring. “What do you need?”
“Got a cleanup for you.”
“Not surprised in the least now that you’re running with a hunter. Any witnesses?”
I glance around the garage. “Doesn’t look like it, though someone lost a car window.”
“Text me the address. We’ll be there in five.”
I end the call and fire off a quick text with Rainey’s apartment address. Then, I scan the garage one last time. The last damn thing we need is for some humans to stumble on three dead bodies.
Rainey reaches into her pocket and pulls out a glove. After slipping it onto her right hand, she starts patting the first one down. I don’t bother with gloves before doing the same to the one closest to me.
“Completely empty,” she says, irritation lacing her tone. “Will Tarnley run an ID on them?”
“He will. I can have him forward the findings to you.”
“Please do. Anything on him?”
I shake my head. “No cell phone, identification, or keys. They didn’t even come with extra ammunition.”
Rainey stands as I move to the third dead vampire. He’s the same as the others—not a single thing in any of his pockets.
“These three were professionals,” I tell her as I stand.
“I gathered as much.” She sighs and runs a hand over her face as three black SUVs pull into the garage.
“There’s Tarnley.”
The lead vehicle comes to a stop in front of us, and Tarnley hops out. “Two cleanups in one day, Elijah? I’m starting to think the hunter is rubbing off on you.”
“If only you knew,” Rainey purrs.
“Besides, the first one was you,” I add.
Tarnley laughs as his team goes to work, scanning the dead, taking pictures of the scene, and loading the three bodies into the back of the lead SUV. It happens so fast, and it’s less than five minutes before they bring out the warlock who—with the snap of his fingers—makes the blood vanish from the concrete.
It’s impressive and why Tarnley is the only cleanup service used by supernaturals. Others have tried—and failed—to mimic what he has built.
“That’ll be it,” Tarnley says after dropping a wad of bills inside an envelope and sticking it on the driver’s seat of the car with a busted-out window.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem. I do have a date tonight, so it would be great if you two could keep from killing each other for at least three hours.”
“No promises,” Rainey replies.
“See you.”
I wave him off and turn back toward Rainey’s building. I’m not even the least bit exhausted—and I should be.
Healing takes energy. But seeing Rainey fight? Apparently, it was the boost I needed. We climb the stairs in silence and finally reach her place. She unlocks the door, and we step inside. I close and lock it behind me.
“So Tarnley dates? As in dinner, movie, that type of thing?”
I chuckle. “Can’t picture it?”
“Not particularly.”
I lean against the counter. “He lost his mate a couple centuries ago. Since then, he’s only ‘dated’ when he needs to eat and the bag isn’t cutting it anymore.”
“So he hunts?”
Her pulse quickens, her pupils dilate. “No. He doesn’t kill humans, and the only ones he drinks from are the norms who know about our world. The ones who enjoy it.”
She relaxes, but it doesn’t last long. Soon, she’s checking the counters behind her, her heart rate quickening.
“What is it?” I ask, searching the room with her. Does she see or hear something I don’t?
Eyes wide, she turns to me. Her pupils are nearly fully dilated, her panicked breaths coming out sharp, ragged. “Where is it?”
I don’t reply.
“Elijah? Where is the box?”
“I put it away.”
She relaxes instantly and shakes her head. When her gaze meets mine again, it’s completely normal. “Sorry, I was worried someone might have broken in and taken it.”
“You’re okay then?”
She smiles. “Totally fine. Still pissed about the fact that someone is still trying to kill me.”
“It’s going to get worse now,” I tell her. “They’ve upped the bounty on your head.”
“Perfect. At least we know what I’m worth dead.”
“You’re worth more alive,” I tell her.
“I swear, the next time I see those crows, I’m going to shoot them.”
I chuckle. “You do know that will do nothing. They’re an omen; more will come.”
“Then I’ll shoot them too.” She walks to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. “Want one?”
I shake my head.
She drinks deeply then recaps it. “How many places do you have?”
“What?”
“Before the vamps attacked us, you said we weren’t going to your other place.”
Realization dawns on me, and I nod. “I have dozens of places all over the world,” I tell her. “But it just so happens I have a silver-lined house here in Billings.”
“Silver-lined?”
“It blocks magic. Which will hopefully shield you from whatever is hunting you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Never had a need to. The silver limits my abilities while I’m inside, so it’s as vulnerable to me as it is protective.”
“Why do you have a silver-lined house?”
“Because I needed somewhere safe to hide should the council send witches after me. It keeps their tracking magic out.”
She purses her lips, and I poise for another argument. I wish I could say I’d drag her there kicking and screaming if I have to, but we both know that’s a fallacy. Instead, I’d find a way to watch over her all night, every night until we figure out what’s going on.
“Fine,” she finally agrees.
“Fine?”
Rainey lets out a breath. “I’d really rather not have any more issues. Especially after this afternoon. They obviously have a hard-on for catching me at home.” She pulls out the bag Stella gave her with a grimace. “We have this tea—if you can call it that—so hopefully between it and your house, these ghosts will leave me the hell alone. It would be nice to get some damned sleep.”
After she sets it on the counter, she reaches for an old cookie jar—the cartoon dog Snoopy sitting on top of his red doghou
se—and lifts the dog, setting him on the counter, and sticks her hand inside. She withdraws a handful of Skittles and pops them into her mouth.
“Where are those things not stashed?” I ask, pulling it toward me to take a peek at the contents. “Shit, that’s nearly half full.”
“I know.” She purses her lips together. “I’m running low.”
Chuckling, I shake my head and put Snoopy back on his doghouse, effectively shutting the cookie jar.
“You better have a good reason for cutting me off,” she accuses.
I blur around the island and grip the back of her neck, pulling her toward me and slamming my mouth on hers. I can taste the Skittles on her tongue—the sugar damn near giving me a rush. And beneath it, remnants of the magic from Stella’s potion, the power surging into my system, gasoline on a flame.
She moans, the sound vibrating through me and pushing me closer to the edge of control. Rainey surrounds me, filling my lungs, my heart, the core of my very soul. Reaching down, I cup her ass and slide her back onto the counter, stepping between her legs.
Her hands grip my hair, nearly pulling to the point of pain, but it’s so fucking delicious I crave it. More pain, more love, more everything.
I want every piece of her, every broken, jagged shard of the woman I fell harder for than I ever could have anticipated.
My hands slide over her shoulders, shoving her jacket down. She releases my hair to remove her firearm and holster, and I strip out of my clothes as she tosses her boots to the ground and lifts her shirt over her head.
I suck in a breath, drinking in the sight of her as she reaches behind and unhooks her bra. She’s so fucking perfect, every inch of skin, every part of her soul.
She was made for me.
I know that now. I can feel it when we touch, when we fuck.
Rainey reaches down and unbuttons the front of her jeans. Before she can pull them down, I step toward her and press my palm to her chest, pushing her gently back onto the counter. Her head falls back, dark hair spilling over the edge of the counter.
I trail my palm down her body, her skin warm and smooth beneath my fingers. When I reach her jeans, I lean forward and press a kiss to her abdomen. Goosebumps flare to life on her skin as I carefully lower her jeans, sliding them down inch by inch until I can toss them to the floor.
Blood Captive: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 2) Page 8
