Blood Captive: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 2)

by Jessica Wayne

“It was the talk of the supernatural society for quite some time,” Eira offers. “Elijah here rescued the queen from two vampires who’d snuck into her castle in a feeble attempt to overthrow the hierarchy. He’s quite the hero.”

  I gape at him. “So you’re a knight? Seriously?”

  To my complete delight, he blushes. “It’s just a formal title.”

  A vampire who knows how to sew, loves Nirvana, hates being immortal, and is technically a knight. Who would have thought? “Is there anything else I should know about him?” I ask Eira.

  She grins. “We could fill hours with stories about Elijah.”

  I’m opening my mouth to ask her to start spilling the beans when Elijah interrupts. “What do you know of everything going on in Billings right now?”

  Eira pouts. “You always did like to shit on parties.”

  I choke on a laugh. Eira and I could be good friends.

  “Only when there’s work to be done,” Elijah retorts.

  Eira sighs and leans back in the booth, her hands folded in her lap. “There is definitely something happening, but I don’t have an idea as to what.”

  “You’ve noticed it?”

  “The dark undercurrent? Increased activity? It would be impossible to miss. Attendance is down by enough that the drop is noticeable, which means people are staying inside.”

  Or being murdered, I consider, thinking back to the dead witches.

  “You have no idea what it could be?”

  She shakes her head at my question. “Unfortunately, I’m rather wanted by the Immortal Council at the moment, which means I rarely venture outside these walls—if ever.”

  “Wanted? Why?”

  Her eyes flash from coral blue to stormy cobalt in an instant. “I don’t take kindly to being told what my kind is good for.”

  “As in, she removed the head of an Immortal Council member who thought to use her for her body,” Elijah tells me. “I killed the other three who dared think the same.”

  “It’s how we met,” Eira says. “I was being held, and Elijah rescued me.”

  I turn back to him, once again completely in awe of the man I couldn’t see beneath the beast when we first met.

  The hero.

  And even though he’s told me on more than one occasion he’s not one, I see it now. Even if he can’t.

  “You have noticed it though? The switch?”

  “I have, and to be honest, it has me seriously considering a temporary relocation. I would suggest the two of you consider the same.” She looks past me and nods. “Excuse me.” After a quick tap on my thigh, she slides out of the booth and practically floats across the floor toward two men in suits.

  They disappear through a door together, and I turn to Elijah. “I like her.”

  He smiles. “I thought you might.”

  “Not really a fan of the whole sexual arousal game, but she’s great.”

  “She does it to everyone the first time, though she typically turns it off before it gets too far.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I cock my head to the side. “Usually?”

  “Occasionally, she waits for an ass grab—her, not them—then switches things off before anything else happens. I’ve actually never heard of her taking anyone to bed. As far as I know, she’s steered clear of any type of relationship since I pulled her out of that cell.”

  My heart aches for the victim she was and the suffering she must have felt. “I can’t blame her.”

  “Neither can I. And I often wish I could go back and make their ends much more violent.”

  I reach over and cover his hand with mine. “You’re a good man,” I tell him.

  “For a monster.”

  “You’re not a monster, Elijah.”

  He doesn’t reply, just stares across the restaurant as though he’s searching for something—or someone.

  “Will you two be eating?” the waiter asks after approaching our table. He looks to be in his early twenties. Though with shifters, it can be misleading since their aging slows when they come into their power. Just like witches, the change hits them at nineteen.

  “Yes,” Elijah answers and holds his hand out for two menus. The man slips away, and I take an offered menu.

  “I feel like I haven’t had a real dinner in forever.”

  “That’s because Skittles don’t count as an appropriate meal.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says everyone.”

  I grin up at him, the normal conversation something I hadn’t even realized I’d yearned for. It’s been two years since I could casually discuss the supernatural world. Two years since my sister died and left me alone with a legacy I hadn’t even tried to understand before.

  In the last near two weeks, Elijah has brought me happiness when I never thought I’d feel it again, but he’s given me more than that.

  He’s helped me understand my purpose, given me a glimpse behind the supernatural curtain. And, above all, he’s made me feel less isolated.

  “Thanks,” I blurt out.

  He turns his head toward me. “For?”

  “Being with me. Not letting me kill you when I tried.”

  His answering smile is blinding even in the dim light. “Anytime.”

  We’ve established that I love Skittles. That they’re my lifeblood, and without them, I would probably dissolve into a puddle of goo.

  But, I have to admit, the massive filet I just devoured is something I could probably survive on even if the fruity balls were no longer available. Stomach full, I lean against Elijah, staring at the salad I didn’t even touch. There was no room after the meat and loaded mashed potatoes. And even better? The conversation did not—even once—drift to his gorgeous fae ex. I trust him when he tells me nothing’s changed for us, but I’d be lying if there wasn’t a part of me that’s just not ready to visit their connection.

  “Satisfied?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

  “For now.” I glance up at him, and he leans down, kissing my lips gently.

  “Did you enjoy tonight?”

  “It was really nice to do something that didn’t involve blood or entrails.”

  He chuckles. “I agree.”

  “I am, however, looking forward to later.” I reposition myself, sitting up away from him and getting up on one knee to run my lips over his throat. My hand slips up his thigh slowly. Elijah’s answering growl shoots through me, and my stomach twists as my body warms from the inside.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Hunter,” he whispers. “I’ll fuck you right here at this table and not give two shits about who sees it.”

  “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I say right back as I grip him. He thrusts into my hand, the hardness of his erection pressing into my palm.

  Someone clears her throat.

  I pull back and stare up at Eira. “As much as I hate to break this up, and trust me, I really do, you two need to leave. Now.”

  “What’s wrong?” Elijah gets to his feet, and I follow him out of the booth.

  “There’s quite a large gathering of supernaturals outside, demanding to be let in. They say they have a message for you,” she says, her gaze falling on me. “Though, based on the weapons in their hands, I’d say it’s more of a demonstration.”

  “Fuck.”

  “How did they find us?” I ask Elijah. “The block should have kept us safe.”

  “We had a rat,” Eira replies, disgusted. “It’s the reason I had to leave. He’s since been taken care of.” She bares shockingly white teeth. “We didn’t realize he’d gotten a message out until they showed up.”

  “Let’s go,” Elijah says.

  “I will take you out back. As far as I know, they haven’t surrounded the entire place yet.”

  “We can go,” Elijah says, shaking his head. “You can’t be involved in this, Eira.”

  She looks appalled at his suggestion that she stand down. “I would rather die in battle than hide in a corner. You know that.”


  “I do, but we need you, Eira. Bringing attention to yourself now will only limit the allies we have when it comes time to make our stand against whatever the hell is headed this way.”

  “He’s right,” I tell her, reaching forward to squeeze her forearm. Her dark eyes lighten back to their coral blue, and she nods.

  “Very well. But if you can’t handle it alone, I won’t hesitate to take action.”

  “Thank you,” Elijah adds before glancing back at me. “Ready?”

  The Hunt surges through my blood, an extra dose of adrenaline begging to be let free. I reach beneath my dress and whip out both silver daggers while Eira watches appreciatively.

  “When you’re no longer at risk, come see me, Rainey. We could have some fun.”

  “You’ve got it,” I reply with a wink. Then, palming both daggers, I follow Elijah down the hall. It’s silent—almost too silent as we walk, the echo of my heels clicking on the floor and the sound of our hearts hammering within our chest our only company.

  When the back door comes into view just ahead, Elijah stops and turns to me. “You ready?”

  Reaching down, I remove both heels and toss them to the floor. Then, I straighten and roll my shoulders. “I am.” I flip a dagger and offer it to him, hilt first.

  He shakes his head. “I’m going to cloak myself. I don’t have enough magic to do you too, but it should give us an advantage if they attack.”

  “Sounds good.”

  In a blur, he slams me against the wall, gripping my waist as he devours my mouth. By the time he pulls away, we’re both breathless. “We’ll be finishing our earlier conversation when we get home.”

  Leaning forward, I nip at his bottom lip. “Good.”

  With a grin, Elijah’s canines descend, and he leans forward, running them over the hollow of my throat.

  I shiver.

  He shoves off the wall. “Be safe.”

  “You too.” Closing my eyes, I urge the Hunt to flood my system. The adrenaline makes my body vibrate, needing a release I’ll only get with a fight.

  Or one hell of a fuck.

  Elijah winks and disappears from view, but I can still feel him beside me as though he’s visible. I shove the door open and step into the back parking lot.

  As much as I’d hoped for a good fuck, it looks like it’s a fight we’ll be getting.

  At least half a dozen shifters and two witches stand before me.

  The shifters morph, bones popping as they transform into their animal forms. The witches smile, their bodies pulsing with power my blood recognizes as the enemy.

  “Foolish of you to come out alone,” a woman says, her bright pink hair rosy in the moonlight.

  “Hunters have never been known for their intelligence,” I repeat Elijah’s words to Jack—the hunter who lied to me—the first time they met.

  “True. But this time, you’re going to die for it.” She raises a hand, sending me flying backward into the wall. I grunt, my body impacting with a heavy thud against the solidity of the metal siding. But I don’t stay down long, and when I get to my feet, I see a trail of shifter bodies left behind by Elijah as he works his way through the back of the crowd.

  With a roll, I send my dagger flying end over end. It hits its mark—right between the eyes of a blue-haired witch standing to the left of the woman who attacked me. I run, pumping my arms and doing my best not to get caught by the power the remaining witch is flinging my way. Balls of energy—one after the other—slam into the asphalt at my feet while I run.

  Pain explodes in my chest as one slams into me, knocking me backward. I hit the ground, feeling the asphalt tearing at my skin as I skid across the surface. After risking a moment to suck in a deep breath, I press my hands to the ground, arching my back and kicking out, flinging myself back up to my feet.

  “Still want more, Hunter?” she taps her fingers together, and sparks snap and pop between them. I swallow hard but try not to let her see just how fucking exhausted I am.

  “I’ve already killed one of you bitches tonight.”

  Lips turned in a sadistic smile, she shakes her head. “She was new, weak. I will prove to be a bit more difficult.”

  My chances here are slim at best. She’s powerful, and Elijah is still busy dealing with the shifter problem. Lucky for me, though, witches tend to be shit at hand-to-hand. If I can get close enough, I can take her out. But that’s one hell of an if. Sucking in a breath, I roll my shoulders just as I did earlier and race toward her, dagger in hand.

  Before she can hit me with another blast, I drop my shoulder and slam into the bitch. We crash onto the asphalt, and she grunts. But before she can use any more power, I drive my blade down into her eye socket, and warm blood sprays me when I rip it back out.

  I keep moving, scanning the parking lot. Elijah’s dropped his cloak, and he’s covered in blood just ahead as he fights a massive shifter sporting a sharp yellow beak, huge claws, and bright yellow eyes. It’s something I’ve never seen before—a griffin perhaps?—but he’s holding his own.

  I dodge a bear shifter, rolling to the side and stabbing him right beneath the shoulder, angling up into his gut. He roars—the animalistic sound echoing through the parking lot. Then, he shifts from bear to very naked man before slumping to the ground.

  “Elijah!” I scream as a feline shifter jumps onto his back. I set my dagger free and breathe a sigh of relief when it lodges in his attacker’s throat.

  But the damned thing already dug its claws into him, and Elijah tumbles backward to the ground, exposing him to the one remaining shifter. “Hey, asshole!” I yell, and it turns its yellow eyes on me, its eagle-like head cocking to the side like the predatory fowl it is. Partially, anyway. “I’m the one you want.”

  It steps toward me, its yellow body covered in blood. Elijah’s blood. Knowing that, seeing the red smeared over its white and gold feathers, sends a brand-new wave of rage burning through me. Especially when Elijah tries to stand and stumbles forward, blood rushing from a gash in his upper thigh.

  Power rushes through me.

  Pure, ancient magic that should, for all intents and purposes, terrify me.

  I drop my dagger and clench my fists at my sides. Snarling, I face off with the creature, taking a step to my right in an attempt to circle around and place Elijah securely behind me as his body heals.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I whisper, and the thing lunges at me. I rush forward, dodging its beak and wrapping both arms around its neck as I slam us both to the ground. I pin it, fighting to keep it beneath me as wings flap frantically.

  The edges of my vision begin to waver as the thing starts to lift us both off the ground. Talons dig into the flesh of my ankles as it tries to get free of my grasp, but I hold strong.

  Let us help.

  Let us kill it.

  A sharp beak slices the flesh of my shoulder, and I scream out in pain as the blackness begins to close in, surging through me and giving me strength. I allow it to seep in, feeling stronger with each passing moment.

  The griffin’s eyes widen, and he shifts back to human.

  I grin down for a moment before snapping his neck.

  The thing’s body goes limp, but I don’t move.

  That felt good.

  He deserved to die.

  I release the dead griffin’s neck and stand, slowly straightening. My vision begins to clear, the darkness shrinking away, and with its vacancy, pain returns. The burning agony spreads throughout my shoulder as though the injury from the creature’s beak is fresh. I wince, cradling the injured arm to my side.

  Turning in a slow circle, I let my gaze land on Elijah standing a few feet behind me. He’s smeared with blood, his clothes torn to shreds.

  “Elijah?”

  Eyes solid black, blood dripping from his mouth, he looks every bit the monster I always believed vampires to be.

  But this is no animal—this is Elijah—and he won’t hurt me.

  I reach forward and touch a hand to h
is chest. It rises and falls with the force of his sharp, ragged breaths, and he stares down at it a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head. When his gaze meets mine again, there’s a ring of blue around the black.

  Then, without a word, he reaches down and scoops me up, racing toward his car. He sets me down long enough to open the door, and I catch sight of three black crows watching me from their perch atop a neighboring car. After I climb inside, I roll down the window, stick out my arm, and flip them the bird—pun intended.

  11

  Elijah

  The whiskey in my glass is doing absolutely nothing to curb my craving. Across the house, Rainey is cleaning up, washing away her blood, and checking her wounds. I should be in there with her, should be helping her—hell, I’ve done it before. But I nearly lost it tonight in that parking lot.

  Never, in all of my years, have I ever heard of a mated vampire unable to curb the bloodlust. Even when mated to a human—which while completely shamed is not unheard of. The bond should have made it easier to be around it. Instead, each time she’s injured, it becomes harder and harder to control myself.

  Soon, I fear I won’t be able to keep the beast caged. I refill my glass and walk through a door and into the indoor pool room. The water is illuminated from lights beneath the surface, and it moves with the soft current spouts inside.

  It shifts, and I stare down at it, hoping the hypnotic movement will cure me of my inability to think about anything other than crimson being washed down a drain. Thankfully, Tarnley had been available to come do cleanup on the bodies in Eira’s parking lot. He was bitter about it, given Eira called him in from his date.

  But he’d done it.

  While I’m sure she could have taken care of it, leaving her out of supernatural matters altogether is for the best. She can’t take another hit. They’ll hunt and kill her if she does.

  I smell Rainey before I hear her, the lavender scent of her body wash filling my lungs and easing some of the hunger.

  “I’ve never seen a griffin before,” she says as she crosses the tile floor to stand beside me. Her voice echoes through the pool room.