Pierced: A Wolf Shifter & Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 1)

by Keira Blackwood

  Until she did. Exactly seven minutes after the metal door slammed into the brick facade, Hannah stepped out of the hundred-year old building. I watched as she skipped down the stone steps, with a pile of books held close to her chest. She looked just as she did every night, in her short, black, leather jacket. Tiny blue shoes adorned her feet; and tight, dark jeans clung to her legs. Only her white shirt fit loosely, cut into a v that exposed her elegant neck. Every night it was as if I was seeing Hannah for the first time. My fangs descended, and I had to fight the draw to her.

  And just like every night, she looked out beyond the crowd, beyond the light’s reach as if she sensed me there. Though she never approached, never quite met my eyes. Instead, she went on her way. But for that one brief moment every night, it was as if she searched for me in the shadows.

  The sounds of the crowd faded off into the distance, leaving only the soft footsteps of the she-wolf. She turned down the brick pathway toward her living quarters. I followed.

  Shadowing Hannah required twice the distance of a typical mark. Her attention was sharp, predatory, capturing every sign of movement around her. I’d learned quickly that staying close would be a challenge, which made her all the more appealing.

  As trees grew more sparse, and buildings closer together, I was forced to take to the rooftops to avoid the she-wolf’s detection. Two buildings back. Four stories above. It was too far to enjoy the rhythm of her heartbeat, though I couldn’t risk getting any closer. Too far and I’d no longer be a source of protection. Too near, and I was a threat.

  Fifty feet from her building, Hannah had nearly reached the door when I knew. An erratic pulsing heartbeat. The stink of decay. Thrall.

  Hannah’s head turned, as if she heard something I did not. But I didn’t have to hear it to know what was there, the half-turned creature that lusted for a taste of Hannah. I could sense him, feel his all-consuming need to feed.

  I moved without thought of consequence, leaping four stories down to the brick path below. It was just like it had been when I first laid eyes on her, a tightness in my chest that I could not deny. Nothing would be allowed to harm Hannah.

  From between buildings the thrall raced toward the she-wolf, though she did not see him. He was young, early twenties, wearing chains, black makeup, and black clothes. He was closer than me. Too close. My chest tightened. She’s mine.

  He reached out for her, clawing to grab hold of the raven-haired beauty, only three feet away. But I caught him.

  His pulse thrummed against my palm as I held tight to the creature’s neck. His skin was clammy, and slightly warmer than my own.

  Glllrrrr. The thrall pushed forward as I squeezed, choking himself to try to reach Hannah.

  Only then did she turn. She backed up toward the door of her dormitory, eyes wide, and far from the thrall’s reach.

  “What the-” Hannah gasped, and squeezed her books to her chest.

  “Who spawned you?” My voice was rough, deep, angrier than I had expected.

  The thrall paid no mind as I tightened my grasp on his throat. His bright, yellow eyes were fixed on Hannah. Expecting a response was a long-shot.

  “Is that a freaking zombie?” Hannah asked, continuing her slow retreat from the dark sidewalk. Then her eyes flicked to mine.

  I slid my blade through the base of the thrall’s skull, and let him collapse to the ground. His face still looked human—a twenty-something Caucasian male, hollow cheeks, dried, cracked lips. Blood stained the thrall’s wrinkled clothes, covered his fingers, and was crusted to his unshaven stubble. He was recently turned, and likely involved in the attacks we had been sent to investigate.

  “I don’t know what you are, or why you’re here,” Hannah said. “But you need to stay the hell away from me.” The words cut. It was exactly what I deserved, and she was right.

  She turned for the door to her building, and I grabbed her wrist.

  “Wait.”

  “So cold,” she whispered, then pulled hard, nearly releasing herself from my grip. “Let go of me.” Fear. Hatred. She looked at me exactly the way she should have, the way she had looked at the thrall, as if I was a threat and a monster.

  I would do as she wished. As soon as she heard what I needed to say. “Hannah, you’re in danger every minute you stay in Scarlet Harbor.”

  “Clearly-”

  “When they discover you have no pack, no information of value, they will kill you.”

  “I have a pack,” she replied. I released her wrist.

  “I only wish to-”

  “I don’t care what you wish,” Hannah said. “Stay away from me.”

  And with that, she went inside. She was too stubborn. She needed my help, or she’d end up dead. A fate we were likely to share at this rate.

  I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket and dialed. No answer.

  “It’s me,” I said to my brother’s voicemail. Then I wedged the phone between my chin and shoulder, and dragged the corpse back the way it had traveled, away from the door, away from sight. “Our missions have crossed paths. Meet me by the university dormitories.”

  With the phone back in my jacket, the dead thrall by my feet, and Hannah beyond reach, I was left alone with the image of the hate in her eyes. With the memory of her fear, that I had caused. And by the way her lush hips swayed as she walked away.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah

  Even after the doors had clicked shut, I could still feel his crimson eyes watching me. Maybe that was a vampire thing too—X-ray vision. Or maybe part of me just wanted him to watch. Definitely going a little crazy from everything that had happened. No sane person pines over the guy she just saw kill someone. I should have been terrified. But I wasn’t.

  Bennet didn’t follow me inside, and I was grateful. But I knew he hadn’t left either. Maybe that was another vampire thing—can’t come in unless invited. What had Ashley said about that? I should have paid more attention, though I wouldn’t tell her so. She’d never let me live that down. It wasn’t like her internet-based expertise had been tested. And why was Bennet at my dorm to begin with? Did he follow that thing? Or did he follow me?

  Part of me was glad that he was there. He had taken down that yellow-eyed monster like it was nothing, again protecting me. The thing carried the stink of decay, of illness, and of the blood of others. No way that thing was human.

  Not only that, but everything I had felt that first night with Bennet had boiled right back to the surface. I was intrigued by the existence of a race I’d never known. He had to be something different from me, from humans, and from the monster. I tried to deny the butterflies of excitement I had felt from seeing him again. It was his silent movement, and the heat of those searing scarlet eyes. This draw to a man that I knew nothing about, to a man that had brought danger into my life, I knew it was stupid.

  And that’s why I went upstairs without turning back. Just like I denied my inner wolf the chance to roam the city at night, I denied the pull to Bennet. Sometimes being a responsible adult meant not giving in to whims, and therefore not getting arrested, shot, or eaten alive.

  My shoulder lurched back, as I smacked straight into something hard. I blinked and attended to the two girls chattering on the stairwell.

  “Geez, watch it,” the tall blonde said. Her nose wrinkled up and she rubbed her shoulder as if I’d punched her.

  “Sorry,” I said, then made a small smile and kept walking.

  “Can you believe that?” she asked her shorter, but just as blonde friend. “Like a Mack truck plowing through.”

  The second floor was full of the usual noise. Music blared, drunks slurred their speech, and porn played on laptops. The paper-thin walls told me way too much about my neighbors. Tuning out was a sanity-saving survival instinct I’d developed as a child when my parents had fought in the night. It also served me well in college.

  When I reached the third door on the right, I glanced at the little whiteboard sign where Ashley had scripted ou
r names. That, and drawn the silhouettes of a wolf and a bat. The label would have made me nervous if every door didn’t have some kind of drawing on it. And of course for the fact that no one in Scarlet Harbor had ever assumed that I was anything more than a typical coed. Except for Ashley. She’d had me pegged from the start.

  I stepped inside and found her sitting on her bed, lacing up her knee-high boots.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Class go okay?” she asked. Then her brows lowered as she looked me over. “Something’s off.”

  “It wasn’t class,” I said. I wasn’t sure what exactly I should tell her. The last thing I wanted to hear was that I should march back down and explore this thing with Bennet, find out if shift-pire was a thing. Vam-wolf? That and tell him to bring a friend. She’d definitely want in on any vampire interaction.

  “Hannah?”

  “You look like you’re heading out,” I said. Fake eyelashes, short skirt, and pigtails. “Did you get a date?”

  “Yes,” Ashley replied, with an enthusiastic grin. “Thanks for noticing. I’ve got my look-but-don’t-touch boots on.”

  “Well you look great,” I said. And I meant it. It was good to see her out of bed and back to herself.

  “I took your advice and shared my story with Scott from the forum, and bam, he’s on his way here right now,” she said.

  “And you think he’s the kind of guy you can trust?” I asked. “I mean, with people you meet online, you never know-”

  “It’s fine, really, Mom,” Ashley rolled her eyes at me. “I met him before, remember? When I did that whole group thing last year. We went out a few times, then summer came and we kind of just stopped hanging out while everyone went home for break. Anyway, he’s the one with the brooding, dark eyes, and smoldering good looks.”

  The group of them was difficult to forget. I’d once walked in on three guys licking each other’s necks while some girl dumped blood in a punch bowl with a gallon of Kool-Aid. In my dorm room. On my bed.

  After that, Ashley and I had a chat about boundaries. And they weren’t invited back. I can’t say that I was disappointed when they’d drifted apart.

  The guy Ashley’d been interested in was about five foot nine, and reminded me a bit of the skeleton guy from that creepy Tim Burton animated movie. He couldn’t have weighed much more than a hundred and fifteen pounds. The rest of his weight was made up of heavy chunks of metal that hung from every lump on his face. And I was pretty sure ‘smoldering’ in this case just meant smokey eyeshadow. Unless I was remembering wrong.

  “The one with the piercings?” I asked.

  “Yes!” Ashley jumped up to her feet, and gave me a quick hug. “I knew you’d remember him. Scott really makes an impression. Well, not so much as that sexy vamp that turned me, but still, pretty freaking hot.”

  And it started again, the whole thinking she was going to be a vampire. If it had been true, I imagined she’d be a lot more like Bennet and friends—red-eyed, cold, and likely lacking a pulse. “Ashley-”

  “I’d grill you more, and not allow this whole change the subject thing, if I didn’t have to go. But when I get back, I want details,” Ashley said. “Whatever is going on with you. You’ll spill, got it?” She pointed at me and lowered her brow as if a stern look was all it should take to persuade anyone of anything.

  “Sure,” I said. “We’ll catch up later. Have fun.”

  “You know it,” Ashley said, then blew me a kiss and shut the door behind her.

  Alone, I went to the window to confirm what I already knew to be true. I felt my stomach flutter at the prospect of seeing him. The moon shone bright between fluffy, grey clouds, summoning wolves to come out and play. And down below, standing as still as the scenery, was a shadow-cloaked silhouette by the corner of the building.

  I didn’t want to be excited about it. I didn’t want to deal with vampires, yellow-eyed zombies, or that nagging urge to shift.

  I closed my eyes and pulled the curtain shut, then sat down on my bed and tried to focus on anything but Bennet.

  Chapter Eight

  Bennet

  His straw hair whipped in the wind as he silently approached. The car parked across the grass behind him was the same he’d used in life, a ninety-something red sedan.

  “Where’s your sire?” I asked.

  Charlie replied, “You know he doesn’t tell me anything, right?”

  “Walter is supposed to be taking care of the thrall,” I said. “He should have come.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Let’s see it. I’ve never seen a halfer before.”

  “Count yourself lucky,” I replied, and turned for the narrow alley where I’d left the body.

  “Whoa,” Charlie said, pinching his nose. “I thought that stink was rotting cabbage, week-old skunk carcass, sour milk sulfur funk, mildewy garbage-coated-”

  “I get it,” I replied. “It stinks.”

  “Why do you guys always do that whole understatement thing?” Charlie asked, kneeling down beside the corpse. “Walter does it too.”

  “Time dulls,” I said.

  “How so?”

  “Imagine the wonder of childhood. Every trip is an adventure, every holiday magical,” I said. “As the years pass and the child grows, little bits of that excitement, the novelty of everything, get chipped away.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Charlie said. “But we aren’t just talking about whether or not Santa’s real. We’re talking about immortality.”

  “So consider what falls away.”

  “Maybe,” Charlie replied. “But I’m going to see everything. Learn everything. And maybe you guys are bored after hundreds of years or whatever, but not me. With power I’m just going to grow more awe-inspiring, magnificent, fearsome.” His chest puffed out a little more with each additional descriptor. “Not world-weary. You’ll see.”

  “I wish you well with that,” I said. My aspirations in youth hadn’t included immortality. And after I'd been turned, I'd told myself that I'd be different than the others. But some things are inevitable.

  “The thing has yellow eyes?” Charlie pulled up one of the thrall’s eyelids. “Learning new stuff all the time. I bet the yellow eye thing makes it hard to blend. But I guess not as much as the stink.”

  “Or the all-consuming desire to eat flesh,” I replied.

  “Sure, and that,” Charlie said, rising to his feet.

  “Thrall don’t blend,” I said.

  “Do you think they want to?” Charlie asked.

  “I don’t think they want anything but to feed,” I said. “Maybe at the start. If you find one newly turned, they retain the ability of some speech.”

  “What do they say?” Charlie asked.

  “Help me get this in the car,” I said, lifting the arms of the thrall.

  “So, like, they’re transporting sofas or something,” Charlie said with a grin. “Okay, okay,” he said, after reading my face.

  After he lifted the feet, I answered. “Most often,” I said. “They ask for death.”

  Charlie held the thrall’s ankles, keeping the shoes as far from his body as his arms would allow. “Wow. That’s kinda sad,” Charlie said. “I think I asked for a rare steak. Maybe a blonde or redhead. But I don’t know if I knew yet.”

  “Pop the trunk,” I said.

  “Yep.” Charlie dropped the legs to work the keys. Then helped me lift the corpse into the tight space. “This thing is going to ruin the carpet.”

  “It might,” I replied.

  “And what exactly am I supposed to do with it?” he asked. “It can’t just stay in there. Can you imagine trying to drive around with that stink? It’ll attract all kinds of vultures and whatever else likes the smell of rotting eggs.”

  “Take it to the estate.”

  “You’re going to make me go back there by myself?” Charlie asked.

  I just looked at him.

  “That guy’ll eat me if I say something wrong,” Charlie said.

  “I
t’ll be fine,” I said. “Call your sire if you need assistance. My mission is here.”

  “Sure,” Charlie said, and attempted to close the trunk. There was still a leg in the way. “Bennet,” he said, as I slid the last piece of the thrall into the compartment and closed the trunk. “What’s the difference between making one of those and one of us? Tell me it’s not just luck.”

  “The blood is drained, and the body fed,” I said. “The difference is in the ritual. If not done correctly, the transformation is incomplete.”

  “You don’t think someone did that… on purpose, do you?” Charlie asked.

  “It’s possible,” I replied. “Thrall create chaos, uncontrollable bloodshed. Either someone’s making a move on the territory and needs to create a distraction.”

  “Or?”

  “Or there’s an untrained, recently-turned vamp out there playing with things he doesn’t understand,” I said.

  “I don’t know which one’s worse,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah.”

  There was a sound, faint in the distance, through the glass, yet still distinct. Her screams. It was Hannah.

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah

  The cold air bit my bare skin, putting every tiny hair on end. Moonlight washed over the shadowy figure as he stepped forward, revealing a man dressed head to toe in black. His dark hair was neatly trimmed close to his scalp, a length that continued down his fair-skinned cheeks and across his square jaw. I should have been afraid. I should have shifted.

  I blinked. That was all the time it took for him to reach me. The icy, wire grid stung as I leaned back into the chain-link fence. But I didn’t care. My body was pinned, both by his hips holding mine in place, and by the fire that transformed his eyes. I tried to breathe him in, but he carried no scent. Everyone always smelled like something. But not him.