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

by Jessica Wayne

  “Who has the kind of power for a spell of that magnitude?” A curse that transcends centuries? Multiple rebirths? It’s unheard of, unless…

  “A descendent of the original witch,” she says dryly, interrupting my thought and answering my question. “She rather enjoys our sadistic game of cat and mouse.”

  Her admission horrifies me. To spend eternity running only to suffer death repeatedly…shit, I couldn’t even imagine. Here, I thought my own curse of immortality was a prison sentence. Jane’s makes mine look like an interlude. “Why have they not found you this time?”

  “Because Rainey’s grandmother blocked my abilities. She left them dormant so they would never surface.”

  “Then you’re powerless?”

  She narrows her gaze on me. “Make no mistake, Vampire, my power is still accessible.” The threat laced in her words is potent, and if I were a lesser beast, I might have been concerned. “Agatha just made sure it couldn’t be tracked—that they couldn’t find me so long as I don’t use my power. If I do, her block will be broken, and they can track me again.”

  “Why are you revealing this to me now? You could have told me the first time we met.”

  “Because last night, I sensed a change in her—a shift of the power already in her blood.”

  “We found the box,” I tell her, seeing no reason to postpone any longer. If she crosses us, I’ll kill her. If not, we may have just found the ally we’ve been looking for.

  Jane gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Please tell me you didn’t open it. Do you have any idea what could happen if Rainey opens that?”

  Face grim, I nod. “Unfortunately, I do.”

  Jane’s eyes widen. “She didn’t.”

  “She did. Back in Salem.”

  “You moron!” Jane jabs her finger into my chest again, and I growl.

  “I don’t often allow people to put their hands on me. Do it again and I’ll relieve Rainey of another liar in her life.”

  “You don’t scare me, Elijah. I’ve nearly killed you once. I’ll do it again.”

  Lowering my voice, I whisper, “The keyword there is nearly. You nearly killed me. I vow that you won’t be so lucky again.”

  Jane sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “We don’t have time for this.” She turns away from me, marching across the apartment and staring down at the street below. “I can’t believe you let her open the damn box.”

  “I would hardly say I let her. Delaney left a video message along with the box. I didn’t get a chance to stop her before Rainey was popping the top on that particular can of shit.”

  Jane’s mouth falls open, and she turns to me, her eyes bulging. “Delaney left it out for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why the hell would she do that?” Jane begins to pace, eyes narrowed as she moves through the apartment, muttering to herself. I watch curiously, I’ve never heard of a curse quite like the one she says she suffers from, and I’ve lived a long time—been everywhere in the world. How did I miss it? Something that horrible surely would have garnished some attention.

  “I promised Agatha that I would keep that box from Rainey, Elijah. Swore it to her in exchange for her help.” Eyes full of tears, she stares at me with complete hopelessness swirling with a heavy dose of guilt. Fear radiates off her, saturating the air around us.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Something you’ve been seeking a long time, Vampire.”

  Her words slam into me, and I straighten. Could it be? “The cure?”

  Jane nods. “A spell that can craft the cure.”

  I clench my jaw, torn between wanting to bury the fucking box in concrete and my need to open it and get my hands on something I’ve been seeking for centuries. People have died, wars have been waged, over that cure.

  And here it is, right within my grasp. I may not wish to take it myself anymore, but the urge is there to see it, to put my hands on the page of a spell others swore didn’t exist. A spell that could give Tarnley some peace.

  “Why can’t Rainey have it?”

  Jane’s eyes darken. “Because the book containing the spell—the one that is in that box you foolishly opened in Salem—is the original witch’s grimoire.”

  Spellbooks are rumored to contain residual magic, which would explain Rainey’s reaction to it. The void inside of her caused by her day of birth would have proven the perfect host for the power. “According to legends relating to residual magic, the power will wear off. The effects of the residue absorbed works more like a boost unless it resides within a direct descendent of the—shit.”

  “And here I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you,” Jane retorts. “Honestly, Vampire, I heard you were intelligent.”

  I glare at her, upper lip raising in a snarl. “I’m slightly more invested in this than you could even begin to understand.”

  “Really? Because I’ve known Rainey since we were twelve. She’s been my best—and only friend—since a neurotic little girl who knows she’s going to die doesn’t have a lot of time for playdates. Although she and I aren’t screwing, I can promise you I love her, Elijah. But you should know that I will do whatever is necessary to stop what’s coming. Including sacrificing Rainey to do it.”

  My hands clench into fists, and I get to my feet as I attempt to fight the primal urge begging me to rip Jane’s throat out and move on. Then, perhaps I can pretend none of this ever happened.

  But with one mental image of Rainey, black-eyed, cloaked in power, I know I can’t do that.

  “The original witch’s power is black—evil—if Rainey absorbs it, she could be changed…permanently.”

  “How do you know what’s in that box?”

  “Because I’m the one who brought it here from Ireland and buried it on the Astor estate.”

  “And how the hell did you get your hands on the grimoire of the most powerful witch in history?”

  She smiles, but there’s no trace of the happy, bubbly friend Rainey has described, nor the woman I’ve crossed paths with on more than one occasion. No, this woman before me is every bit the deadly witch she claims to be. “Because I am the one who killed her, Elijah. I drove a silver blade right through the bitch’s shriveled black heart. It was her eldest daughter—the direct descendent of Rainey’s ancestral line—who cursed me.”

  Thoughts whirring, I gape at Jane, the weight of what she’s just revealed hitting me with the force of a train.

  She killed the original witch.

  She was cursed by one of the original Astors—on the witch side.

  “Then, why would you help an Astor if they were the ones who cursed you?”

  “Because it was only Astor blood that could protect me. The Astors are different than any other hunter family, and not just because they are directly descended from both a witch and a hunter. They are the only hunters with ancestors who possessed the ability to actively practice magic.”

  “The Astor line has produced full witches?”

  “Yes. They’re always more powerful than any others. And always born during a full moon on All Hallows Eve.”

  “Bloody fucking hell.” I begin pacing, running a hand through my hair, one on my hip. “If what you’re saying is true, the Lunar Divide never had anything to do with random witches. It has everything to do with the Astors.” With Rainey.

  She nods.

  “How was this hidden? How did no one piece it together?”

  “Because, as you know, over the years, the line has been diluted. Hunters marry humans, who have children who then marry other humans. It goes on and on.”

  “Rainey is the last of the true line. The only one descendent that has not been tainted with human blood,” I add, finishing her thought.

  “So you see it then? The danger? Elijah, if she absorbed that power, and All Hallows Eve comes around—” She sighs. “Right now, Rainey’s power resides only in the void created during the Lunar Divide. She can’t access it because it’s dormant.”

/>   “And you believe the original witch’s magic will make it active.”

  Jane shrugs. “I don’t know, but if she absorbed the power in that box, it’s possible she now has more than enough to pull from it. And if she does—there’s going to be nothing stopping her from bringing the supernatural world down in flames.”

  My stomach churns, and my ears fill with the sound of Rainey’s screams from the night she opened the box.

  The night she almost died. Is it possible that was only the beginning? I’m no fool. Aoife’s warning nearly mirrors Jane’s. She told us it would all start with dead witches.

  And that particular body count is continually climbing higher.

  What if this is it?

  What if this is the start and we’re too late to stop the dominos from falling?

  “We will lose her, Elijah.” Jane’s voice cracks, so I turn to face her. “We will lose Rainey to evil if she uses that power.”

  “How do we know if she already has? The black rings in her eyes, could that mean—”

  “It could, but it could also be a symbol of the magic contained in that box.”

  I shake my head, grief, rage, and disbelief threatening to drag me down. I just found her. There’s no way in hell I can lose her now.

  “If she turns, Elijah, we have to stop her,” Jane’s voice is full of emotion, but her clear grief does nothing to soften the blow of her words.

  “And how the hell do you think we’re going to do that?”

  “Put her out of her misery.”

  Narrowing my gaze on Jane, I growl. “You mean kill her.” It’s not a question. The threat was evident in Jane’s words—in her tone.

  “That’s the only way to put an end to it. And it has to be done before she’s too powerful to stop.”

  I shake my head, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “There’s no way in hell I’m killing Rainey. And if you think you’re going to—” My vision fills with red, the bond I forged with Rainey back in Salem threatening to consume me as the threat weighs heavily on me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jane whispers, her grief transforming. “You bonded with her!”

  I shake my head, trying to clear the murderous haze attempting to drag me down. “Yes.”

  “You dumbass.”

  “It’s not like I could help it,” I snap back. “If you know anything about vampires, then you know there was no stopping it.”

  “You completed a bond with a hunter who very well may transform to the deadliest witch in history, and yet you don’t see a problem?”

  I growl. “I never said I didn’t see the issue. Obviously, there are ramifications to this bond should she wind up becoming what you fear.”

  “If she is, you won’t be able to lift a finger against her. You realize that, right?” She stalks toward me, every step laced with anger. “You will have to lie there and die after she drives a dagger into your heart. She will feel nothing once you’re gone because, if she does lose herself to that power, whatever you think you have now? It’s not going to mean anything to her.”

  20

  Rainey

  Images of the three dead women stare back at me from the screen of my computer. I can’t tear my eyes away from them.

  Something about their deaths…it’s nagging at me.

  Well beyond a typical crime scene and only partly because of what the fae told me earlier. I can almost visualize them fighting, see the way the redheaded witch tried to save her friends.

  I can feel their pain, hear their screams. And I have no damn clue who killed them or where to find them.

  And if Aoife’s right? If it was the original witch, how the hell am I supposed to stop her?

  “It might do you some good to get some rest,” the captain says from behind me.

  I glance over my shoulder, surprised to see the precinct has thinned down, the day shift going home and the night shift getting checked in. I shift my attention back to the screen. “I can’t figure out what’s bothering me about this. Something is off.”

  “As in—” She trails off, and I know what she’s referring to.

  I nod. “They were witches,” I whisper loud enough for her to hear but not for anyone else. Ramirez cut out about an hour ago, and the closest desk is empty and a few feet away, but it’s still better to be safe than sorry. “We found some items in the closet of one of the spare bedrooms.”

  “How did Ramirez take that?”

  I shrug. “We’ve dealt with covens before. Though this is the first time three members have been wiped out on the same night. He just assumes they were cult members. His words, not mine,” I add.

  She takes a seat at his desk. “What’s bothering you about it?” At my raised eyebrow, she adds, “I’ve been watching you stare at that same picture for nearly two hours.”

  Letting out a sigh, I nod. “I have no clue. But it’s partly because of the way the scene was laid out. Nothing was out of place.”

  “Could be that the killer straightened up after they left.”

  Pursing my lips, I shake my head. “It had been a while since she dusted, everything was still in its spot. Everything except the damn candle.”

  “Candle?”

  “Out of its holder, sitting straight up on the table.”

  “That’s strange.”

  I nod. “Which leads me to where I am now. How did three practicing witches die without so much as a struggle? More than one attacker? Were they snuck up on? But if that’s the case, why kill them so violently?”

  “Maybe they didn’t have active magic? From what I know about witches, some are born with active powers and some with more inactive powers.”

  “True.” I’d considered that possibility and haven’t been able to discount it just yet, though my gut is telling me it means something else. I even checked their birthdays, but none of the three were born on Halloween. “Do you believe in the symbolism of crows?” I ask her curiously.

  A line forms between her brows. “Crows?”

  I nod. “As a symbol for impending death.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever spent much time focusing on them. Why do you ask?”

  “Every time I was attacked before, I saw crows. Three of them. Then, I checked the text messages of one of the victims, and one of the others had texted her, ‘I saw the crows’. It just seems a bit too coincidental to me.”

  “You think whoever is after you killed them too?”

  “Seems likely, doesn’t it? And if they did—” I trail off, looking back at the crime scene photos. “I might be in for a bit of a fight.” Especially if I’m going to go head-to-head with the fucking original bitch. Killing the hunter located in the place you want to start a war seems like the right place to start. I just can’t figure out why she hasn’t come to do it herself.

  “I guess it’s a good thing you have a vampire mated to you.”

  I turn my head so fast it damn near gives me whiplash. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Paloma stares back at me in confusion, a crease forming between her brows. “You don’t know?”

  “Obviously not since I’m asking.” My heart races, my stomach filling with fluttery nerves.

  “Interesting.” Paloma grins and leans back in Ramirez’s chair.

  “How about you tell me what the hell you mean?”

  She smiles at me for another moment, obviously enjoying my surprise. “If it’s any consolation, I had no idea what mated meant until Harrie and I were well into our first year.”

  “Paloma,” I warn, using her first name.

  Her grin spreads. “Your vampire is mated to you.”

  “No, I heard that part. What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that for as long as he lives, he belongs to you. There will never be another for him because vampires mate for life.”

  “When the fuck did that happen?” I press the heel of my hand to my chest, the pressure a hell of a lot. What if this doesn’t work out? What if someone actually manages
to take my ass out? Why the hell would he mate me? Ugh, even saying mate me sounds dirty.

  Paloma shrugs. “I’m surprised you don’t know. My mating ceremony to Harrie was unmistakable.”

  “What the fuck is a mating ceremony? I feel like I would have noticed if I ended up mated.”

  “You are obviously not mated to him,” she clarifies. “That’s not something you could have missed.”

  “So he’s mated to me, but I’m not to him?”

  “That’s how it seems, though he’d know for sure.”

  I push to my feet and grab my jacket off the back of my chair. “I guess I’d better go find out.” Logging out of my computer, I push my job to the back of my brain and do my best to focus on the shit I’m dealing with now.

  “Good luck!” Paloma calls after me. Raising my arm, I wave back at her without turning around or breaking my stride.

  Arms crossed, I stare at the door that will take me inside Delaney’s gym. I’m not even sure how I got here when I was headed to Elijah’s place.

  Yet, here I am, alone, staring at a door when I know good and damn well the room on the other side is empty.

  After all, he has absolutely no reason to be here.

  I spent the drive over racking my brain for any moment that could have resulted in a mating ceremony. Was it the sex? How do vampires even mate?

  “Ugh, this is a mess,” I whisper to myself.

  A hunter with a target on her back who is mated to a vampire. Or rather, has a vampire mated to her? I have no fucking clue how this works.

  I groan.

  Delaney would have a field day with this.

  The thought of my sister brings me back down to the present, so taking a deep breath, I unlock the door, moving inside. The room is pitch black, and I stand in the doorway for a moment, pondering my thoughts.

  I’d almost gone back to my apartment, but since I’ve already nearly died there, it seemed a foolish place to go. At least, here I can be safe while I figure out just what the hell I’m going to do.

  That’s if I do anything at all. Part of me doesn’t see it as such a bad thing. After all, I know how I feel about Elijah.