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

by Jessica Wayne

  But the darker side of me—the pessimistic side—can’t help but believe he literally just signed his own death warrant.

  Is it possible Paloma is wrong? Fuck, why didn’t I ask her how she knew?

  When the hell did I end up mated—my thoughts are interrupted by a near-silent gunshot. Pain explodes in my back, and I stumble forward, falling to my hands and knees.

  Another shot.

  More pain.

  I fall forward and roll onto my back. Light floods the room, and I stare up at a woman in front of me. A human.

  “You’re going to die, Hunter.”

  She raises the gun again, the action snapping me out of my surprise. I kick, my foot slamming into her chest and knocking her back through the doorway.

  The gun goes off again, the bullet ripping through the muscle of my thigh. I scramble backward as I remove my firearm from my holster. Then, I aim it center mass as she comes back through the doorway.

  “Hands in the fucking air!” I yell.

  She grins and raises her gun.

  I know I’ll die if she gets another shot off, so I pull the trigger.

  One shot.

  Two.

  Three to the chest, she falls back and slams into the wall across from me. Blood smears down the pale white wall as she slides to the floor. I drop my arm, releasing my gun and lying back on the floor as I wait for my abilities to kick in.

  I should heal just fine—a wave of dizziness washes over me, interrupting my thoughts and blurring my vision. Barely able to lift my head, I survey the damage in my thigh and the steadily growing pool of blood beneath me.

  Blood continues to pour from my wounds, and as the pain begins to fade, I start to panic. Why am I not healing? With a shaking hand, I reach into the pocket of my jacket and tap on Elijah’s name listed first in my recent calls.

  If I can get to him, he can get the adrenaline.

  A sob rips free when I lose the strength to hold my head up.

  “Rainey?”

  “Lijah,” I slur.

  “Where are you?”

  “Delaney’s g—”

  “I’m coming. Stay on the phone.”

  “I need adrenaline,” I whisper into the line. “Lija—”

  “Rainey?” Elijah roars.

  I open my eyes and stare up at his flushed face.

  Without hesitation, he lifts me, blurring toward the couch and setting me down before disappearing into the back room Delaney converted into an apartment.

  My vision wavers, black spots making it damn near impossible to see. I feel drunk, drugged, and so fucking cold.

  “Why. Aren’t. I. Healing?” I choke out.

  Elijah returns with a vial of adrenaline less than a minute later. He removes the cap and stabs me in the chest.

  Body numb, I barely feel it. There’s no surge of power, no rush, nothing. And knowing that—is even more terrifying than being shot three fucking times.

  My throat burns with the force of my tears. “I don’t want to die.”

  He stands, removing his belt and tightening it around my upper thigh, just above the bullet wound. “You’re not going to die, Rainey.”

  But his eyes—the sadness reflected in the near-black depths as he looks at me—says otherwise. It also showcases just how much he’s fighting his own urges.

  “Turn over.”

  With his help, I roll onto my stomach. “Fuck. You need a hospital, Rainey.”

  “I can’t,” I insist.

  He pulls out his phone.

  Fight, you weak hunter!

  We need you to live.

  If you die, your vampire will die.

  He will be alone.

  You will condemn us all!

  Voices ricochet through my brain. “I can hear them,” I tell Elijah, my voice barely audible. “I can hear the voices.”

  “Tarnley, I need you here, now. I’ll text you the address.”

  You cannot die.

  We cannot die.

  “What are they saying?” Elijah asks as he rolls me onto my side to face him.

  I try to focus on his face, but it’s nothing but a blur as the pain begins to numb. “That I can’t die,” I choke out. “That you’ll die.”

  “I need you to live,” he confirms.

  “I don’t want to leave you—” My body chills, my blood icing as I begin to shiver uncontrollably. Elijah rips off his blood-stained, pale blue button-down and presses it against the wounds in my back. Not that I can feel it, I can feel nothing anymore.

  Voices roar in my brain, screaming in anger and agony.

  Darkness surrounds me, pulling me down, and I succumb, my name on Elijah’s lips the last thing I hear before it claims me.

  21

  Elijah

  “How many fucking times am I going to have to watch you nearly die?” I growl it, tossing my shirt to the side and ripping the back of hers open to get a better look at the wounds in her back. Blood soaks the fabric as I hold it to the sides and stare at the crimson coating her skin. I’m helpless to look away, my fangs descending as I fight the caged beast rattling its chains.

  The animal inside of me wants her even as she lies here bleeding to death. Even as the mate bond urges me to do anything to save her. I get to my feet and back to the destroyed safe in Delaney’s back room, retrieving another shot of adrenaline from her aged stash.

  It’s completely possible that the adrenaline is too old to work.

  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

  I blur back to Rainey. She’s lost nearly all color, the blood still leaking from her body.

  Removing the cap, I roll her over and drive it down into her chest.

  Her bleeding increases, and I drop the vial, stepping away as I attempt to regain control.

  My hands shake, spots invading my vision, until finally, a hand grips my arm and slams me into the wall. Tarnley’s crimson eyes are all I can see, my rage focusing on the one who pulled me from my mate.

  “Let me.”

  “Tarnley? When did you—”

  “Go,” he orders and kneels beside Rainey.

  “Don’t hurt her.”

  He glances over his shoulder. “I’ve fed today, and for whatever reason, I don’t have the same reaction to her blood. Go clean yourself.”

  I blur to the water cooler and rinse the blood from my hands. It pools on the floor beneath as the water overflows the drip tray.

  “She’s not healing. We need to get her to Bronywyn,” Tarnley tells me as he gets to his feet. “I have people outside now. I called them the moment I sensed the blood. They will clean up. We need to go now.”

  I nod and start to move past him to Rainey. His hand on my chest stops me mid-step. “You sure you can carry her right now?”

  “Yes,” I snap. “I’ve cared for her when she’s been bleeding before.”

  “Understood, but right now, it’s going to be a steady drip of fresh blood.”

  I glare at Rainey then back to Tarnley as the monster in me attempts to assure me I’ll be fine. That I won’t rip her throat out on the way.

  But I don’t trust that fucker.

  “Take her,” I tell him through gritted teeth.

  Tarnley nods and lifts her limp body into his arms.

  Seeing him holding her is killing me, so I blur away, heading straight for Bronywyn’s. I dodge in and out of traffic, burning off some—not nearly all—of the bloodlust.

  Bronywyn’s gate before me, I come to a stop. Tarnley and Rainey appear beside me. The guards don’t hesitate as they open the door.

  “You walk from here. Any sudden movement and you’ll be put down,” he tells us.

  I growl.

  Tarnley nods.

  “Do you think Bronywyn will see her?” I ask as we make the walk up the drive. Every moment that passes is another where Rainey could die.

  And if she does, I’m going to slaughter everyone on these premises.

  The witch we’re going to see heals supernaturals who
’ve been injured—and most of the time, it’s because they were attacked by hunters. Taking Rainey into an underground clinic where most of the clientele will be terrified of her? It could go wrong. Really fucking wrong.

  Then there’s the fact that Bronywyn and I didn’t really part the last time on good terms.

  “She owes me a favor,” he replies smoothly as he pulls out into the street. Rainey’s blood is nearly overwhelming, the coppery tang clinging to the air like the sweetest drug, beckoning me.

  “Her blood is potent, Elijah. She’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever sensed. If you were to turn her—”

  “I’m not turning her into a monster,” I snap.

  Tarnley nods in understanding. He knows my stance, knows that I regret forcing him into this life. The only difference is that until he lost his mate, he’d been more than grateful. But I know he feels just as trapped as I do—and honestly—I want that cure as much for him as I used to want it for myself.

  So I could offer us both the keys to freedom.

  The moment Tarnley and I reach the edge of the porch, Bronywyn steps out wearing long white pants and a shirt that bares the pale skin of her stomach. The moment she sees me, her mouth flattens in a tight line, and she crosses both arms over her chest.

  “Elijah, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “She needs help.”

  She turns to my friend, who stands beside me. “You brought a hunter to my doorstep?”

  “Elijah’s mate will die without your help.”

  At his words, Bronywyn’s eyes widen almost comically a moment before she barks out a laugh. “You mated with a hunter? Seriously?”

  “She doesn’t have long,” Tarnley interrupts me before I have a chance to speak. “If she dies, you can count on our agreement to be void.”

  The humor vanishes from her face. “Fine. This way.”

  I don’t speak, afraid for what will come out if I do. Bronywyn and I have what most would call an incredibly strained relationship. She and I passed nearly a century together after I thought Aoife was killed.

  Bronywyn’s seen the ugliest parts of me.

  And when I woke up and realized I wanted nothing to do with this world, I left her behind. It’s safe to say she’s never forgiven me for that.

  Her heels click on the marble floor as we follow her down bright hallways and into a back room. She presses her palm against a screen mounted to the wall, and a door slides open, revealing stairs.

  We descend, and fingernails bite into my palms as I clench my hands into fists.

  The stairs end, and she presses her palm on another panel. The steel door slides open just as the one above did, and we move into a waiting room. It’s empty, thankfully, and we follow her into a room.

  “Set her down,” she orders.

  Tarnley sets her down, carefully rolling her to her stomach, then leaves the room without another word.

  “She was shot,” I tell her. “Three times.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Bronywyn retrieves a blue gown and slips it over her clothes before tying up her hair and moving to the sink where she scrubs her hands.

  I try not to be impatient, to not tell her to hurry the fuck up, but she’s the vindictive type, and I have no doubt she’d move even slower just to spite me.

  A growl fills the room, and it takes me a moment to realize where it came from—me.

  “Easy, bloodsucker.”

  “If she dies—”

  Bronywyn’s green eyes narrow on my face. “If you’re going to follow that up with a threat, let me clarify something.” She glares at me, all the fire I remember. “I owe you nothing, Elijah Hawthorne. And I certainly don’t owe your hunter a damn thing. I’m doing this because I owe Tarnley. Period. We clear?”

  I nod, grinding my teeth together to keep myself from snapping.

  “Good boy.” She moves to Rainey and peers down at the wound on her back. “How long ago did this happen?” she asks as she shreds the rest of Rainey’s shirt, fully baring the skin of her back.

  “Maybe ten minutes ago? I gave her two shots of adrenaline, but they didn’t work. They were old, though—from her sister’s stash. It could have been them.” Rainey’s blood surrounds me, the scent of it as intoxicating as it is terrifying.

  Attempting to redirect my thoughts, I focus on Bronywyn as she steps to the other side of the room and grabs a tray of tools before setting them on a stand beside Rainey’s bed. “It wasn’t the adrenaline. This is not a normal injury. They used a poison, and it’s working against her body.” She lifts forceps and glances back at me. “She’s going to bleed—a lot—while I try to get these bullets out. You may want to wait outside.”

  “I’m not leaving her.”

  “These walls are thick, and this room is sealed completely. You will be safe out there, and I need you to go because I can’t have you losing your fucking mind. I’ve seen what that looks like—and I have no interest in redecorating.”

  I hate that she’s right, that even now, I can feel myself desperately clinging to control.

  “If she dies—” I repeat.

  “What did I tell you about threatening me?”

  Without another word, I spin on my heel and march out into the hall. The door shuts behind me, and I can hear the soft sucking of the seal as I’m completely closed off from the only fucking person in this world that I care about enough to want to live.

  “Where the hell is she?” Jane demands when she stops at the front of Bronwyn’s house. I called her because I wanted someone else here who has a stake in Rainey’s life.

  Tarnley cares because I do, but that’s different.

  Jane cares because she has an obligation to Rainey—or rather to her grandmother. And, because she cares for Rainey.

  “Inside.”

  Jane marches right past me and into the front door. Tarnley is just appearing from the back and he stops, smile widening when he lays eyes on her. “Well, hello.”

  “Where’s Rainey?” she asks him. His smile widens even further.

  “She’s still being healed,” he replies. “I’m Tarnley.”

  “Jane.” She turns back to me. “Take me to her.”

  I stretch out my arm and gesture to the hall I followed Bronywyn down when we arrived.

  “I’ll scan you in,” Tarnley offers and takes the lead.

  “Who shot her?” Jane asks as we begin our descent downstairs to the clinic.

  “Someone who’s currently being cremated under a false name. Your friend put three bullet holes in her.”

  “Vampire?”

  “Human, actually.”

  “Human?” Jane turns to me, and I nod in confirmation. I’d smelt the stranger’s blood too, and I know what she’s thinking. It’s one thing to watch out for supernaturals—but humans? If they’re targeting Rainey now too, there’s no damn place she’s going to be safe. Even with a magical block in her veins.

  That’s if the damn thing is still in there after Bronywyn practically bleeds her dry.

  Bronywyn is just stepping out of the room when we arrive.

  “Bronywyn?” Jane stops, and I move beside her. As far as I know, Bronywyn is not a direct descendent of the original witch, but if she had a hand in Jane’s curse, I want to be able to step in. At least until Rainey is healed. Then, they can fucking kill each other, for all I care.

  “Do I know you?” she asks Jane.

  “It is you.”

  At Bronywyn’s confused stare, Jane chokes out a sob. “It’s Payton.”

  Bronywyn’s eyes fill, and she rushes forward, wrapping her arms around the petite brunette. “I never thought I’d see you again!”

  “How did you two meet?” Tarnley asks curiously.

  “Payton’s my sister.”

  “Sisters?”

  Jane nods, pulling back from Bronywyn. She faces me, her eyes brimming with tears. “From my third family. I go by Jane now.”

  “Jane.” Bronywyn smiles. “It’s fitting for you.
”

  “Third family?” Tarnley shoves his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.

  “Payto—Jane,” she corrects. “Has been around longer than even me.”

  “This is a great reunion,” I snap. “But how the fuck is Rainey?”

  Bronywyn pulls back from Jane and glares at me. “Come here.” Turning on her heel, she marches back into Rainey’s room. The three of us follow, and I swallow hard the second I’m inside and nearly overwhelmed with the amount of blood clinging to the air. “I cleaned as much of it as I could.”

  “Oh, Rainey,” Jane whispers, walking around to the side of the bed.

  Rainey’s on her back now, her skin pale, breathing labored. “She’s not going to make it unless the poison is pushed from her system.”

  “What did they use?” Jane looks over from where she’s standing beside Rainey.

  “A neurotoxin that stunted the hunter healing abilities.”

  “Neurotoxin?” I clarify, recalling the afternoon spent carrying Rainey from the tunnels after she was attacked by a council member who wore neurotoxin on her fingernails.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “How do we get it out of her system?”

  “We don’t; you do.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You’re going to need to drink from her.”

  I gape at her. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You’re mated, so I know you’ve fed on her.”

  “Yes, once, but I can’t—I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

  “You obviously have before.”

  “I was a bit occupied with another activity at that precise moment.”

  Realization dawns on her, and she rolls her eyes. “Which means you were fucking at the time. Typical.”

  “Fuck, Bronywyn. Seriously? Are we going to hash this out now?”

  “As much as I’d love to tell you what an asshole you are, we don’t have time. You need to drink from her, take enough that I can put fresh blood in, and hope the taint is diluted enough that her body will neutralize the rest of it.”

  Tarnley clears his throat. “What will it do to him?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. But we’re going to need to find out. Guess the good thing here is that you’ve always had a death wish. Perhaps this will grant it.”