Trina M. Lee

by Alexa O'Brien Huntress Series Book 1-4 Box Set (Retail)

  Alexa O’Brien Huntress Series

  Book 1 – 4

  By Trina M. Lee

  Copyright 2013 by Trina M. Lee

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Editor

  B. Leigh Hogan

  Cover Artist

  Michael Hart

  Published by

  Dark Mountain Books

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Book 1: Once Bitten

  Book 2: The Wicked Kiss

  Book 3: Only Vampires Cry Blood

  Book 4: Blonde & Blue

  Once Bitten

  Alexa O’Brien Huntress Book One

  By Trina M. Lee

  Once Bitten

  Copyright 2009 by Trina M. Lee

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Editor

  B. Leigh Hogan

  Cover Artist

  Stella Price

  Published by

  Dark Mountain Books

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  The taste of blood brought my wolf to the surface. I snarled up into the face of the vampire and braced for another blow. I welcomed it. The need for a good fight had my adrenaline pumping.

  My bloody lip was quickly forgotten when the jackass grabbed me by the throat and banged my head against the ground. Light exploded behind my eyes. I brought an elbow up into his face before he could do it again. The crunch that followed was satisfying.

  “You like to play, don’t you, wolf?” With a backhand, he knocked the stake from my grasp and I watched with dismay as it rolled across the parking lot.

  I followed up with a kick that effectively threw him off me. In a leap I was on my feet, braced and ready for him. In my mind, he was already dead. It was just a matter of when I tired of this dance. At the moment I was enjoying myself. His psychic attributes were weak, almost non-existent. So he was a full on physical guy. A good brawl was just what I needed on a hot July night.

  I liked to keep things fair. I’d let it stay physical unless he got me in a bad position. Knowing he slaughtered Edmonton’s homeless like they were cattle fed my eagerness for a nice, bloody beat down.

  Patrick Morgan had been on my hit list for weeks. My partner, Jez St. Claire, had accompanied me on this hunt. I kept expecting her to jump in and help me out but she had yet to appear from her place in the shadows.

  I rushed him, faking a punch but sweeping his legs out from beneath him with a kick instead. It didn’t keep him down longer than a split second. He recovered fast and came at me with fangs bared. As if he really believed he’d get a chance to use them.

  Just before he hit me, I threw my weight forward and leaned down low, effectively tossing him over my shoulder. I leaped on him fast, straddling him as I rained down blow after blow. I settled for dropping punches into his face. It wouldn’t kill him but hurting him sure felt good.

  “How many hits in the face do you think you can take before there is nothing left to look at?” I sneered with a bitter laugh. “My arms aren’t even tired yet. I can go until sunrise.”

  Twisting his body suddenly, he threw me off, following through with a few well placed hits. I was going to be a mess of bruises after this. The struggle for dominance ensued. We each fought to gain leverage over the other. It was starting to feel like a hair pulling, bitch slapping kind of fight. I needed to take it to the next level.

  He managed to put some space between us and sprang to his feet. I followed suit, circling back to give myself room to feel out my next attack.

  The wolf’s stamina and speed carried me when I came at him with claws ready. He moved swiftly and rather than take his head off, I merely scratched a few deep lines in his cheek.

  Surprise glowed in his dark eyes. I must have caught him off guard on that one. Good. I lunged again but he was ready. He gave me a nice shove, one that lifted me off my feet. I hit the ground hard and rolled, getting back up. Glancing toward the stake, I made as if to move for it and the vampire stopped me with a well placed kick.

  Taking a kick to the head stunned me. I fell to my knees, the stake just out of reach. I couldn’t go for it and defend myself at the same time. Not when I was seeing stars. I still had all my teeth though so it could have been worse.

  He grabbed me from behind, choking me before I’d recovered from the blinding kick. The son of a bitch was strong. I gasped for breath. Now might be the time to pull a psychic attack on him. I flung a clawed hand back behind me, groping blindly for his face. I felt the soft, vulnerable area around his eye. Success.

  The scream that tore from him when I stabbed a sharp claw into his eye was almost feminine. It would have been funny if things hadn’t just gone from feisty fun to death match. He released me immediately.

  Blood poured down his face. His eye was a mangled mess. Rage rolled off him in giant waves. I never gave him the chance to recover. Lunging swiftly, I snatched the stake up and threw all of my weight at him. I hit him in the chest and we both went down. I called forth just enough power to help me hold him.

  I still hadn’t mastered my abilities despite having been born with them. What had started as basic telekinesis and energy manipulation had evolved over time. Becoming a werewolf had done nothing to hinder my power. In some ways, it seemed to enhance it. As far as I knew, I was the only living werewolf to possess power so close to that of a vampire.

  Patrick Morgan gave a loud, angry cry and fought hard to throw me off. “Fucking bitch! I’m not going to beg.”

  “Good. It’s probably better if you don’t go out like a pussy.”

  With a perfectly timed head butt, he regained the advantage. I was skidding across the pavement before I could block the next hit. My back slammed against a parked car, knocking the breath from me. I braced, expecting him to try to finish me off. But when I looked up, he was just a blur in the distance.

  He ran? Coward.

  “Jez!” I shouted. In an attempt to stop him, I threw an energy ball, striking him dead center in the back.

  He went down hard. Jez was a blur of black as she moved with supernatural speed. Bursting forth from the shadows, she was on top of Morgan before he could recover. I don’t think he realized he’d been impaled until the hilt of her knife was pressed against the base of his throat.

  Blood poured from the wound. Jez continued to wiggle and grind the blade. The vampire struggled to speak through crimson lips as blood flowed out of his mouth.

  “Do you like that?” Jez growled into his face.

  Her golden hair had fallen free of her hair clip, her brilliant green eyes were pure cat. Morgan just stared into those leopard eyes in horror. I guessed that he’d never encountered a werecat before. They weren’t nearly as common as werewolves.

  She was the only naturally born shifter that I’
d ever known and one of only two werecats. Almost all Weres, like me, are infected through bite or attack. Of course, that was only if they managed to survive, which wasn’t likely. I was a teenaged kid lucky enough to survive an attack. I was the only one in my family who did.

  Growing in adulthood with a thirst for the hunt hadn’t been easy. The man, to whom I’d looked for guidance, had been too wrapped up in his own self-absorbed world to notice that I needed him. Raoul Roberts had taken me in when I was sixteen. He had come at a time when I desperately needed him. My mistake was staying too long. Despite earning rank of Alpha female among my local town pack, I’ve done my best to cut ties with my former Alpha.

  The title of Alpha had earned me little, least of all respect. My status did little more than provide minimal dominance over new werewolves. We were people first, and the animal hierarchy only crossed so far into our human world.

  A much needed change had come several years ago when I was approached by Veryl Armstrong, paranormal investigator and vampire extraordinaire. Veryl had asked how I felt about taking out one of my own kind, a werewolf who liked little girls. I would have done it for free.

  I worked regularly with Veryl and developed friendships with others who frequently supplied him with their services, like Jez. It just made sense to have someone as ruthless as me at my back. Hesitators wouldn’t keep me alive while hunting rogues like Morgan.

  The vampire stared into Jez like she was the angel of death who had come at last, and I realized that a part of him was enjoying this.

  “You like this, don’t you, you sick son of a bitch?” Jez’s right hand gripped the knife, and her left sprouted five perfect, razor-sharp claws. Morgan made a series of grunts and gurgles, but nothing coherent came out. He reached up with a strong hand for her throat, and she drove those claws into his guts.

  This was getting too messy. I moved in to help her pin the vampire.

  Morgan fought hard now, struggling against us furiously. I guess the game had lost its appeal. He didn’t want to play anymore. Now it was a fight for his so-called life. With a sudden burst of desperation, he flung us both backwards.

  He came at me then as he pulled the knife from his throat with a slick, wet sound. A sickening laugh bubbled out from around the gushing wound. I tapped the power nestled in my core, throwing everything I had at him. It was just enough to buy Jez a few much needed seconds.

  Jez retrieved my forgotten stake and, with a mighty blow, slammed it into his heart. I let my power fall away and staggered with sudden weakness. I leaned against the nearest car and fought to catch my breath.

  Patrick Morgan burst into dust and ash. His remains rained down around us. A grin danced along Jez’s ruby red lips. It was infectious. I couldn’t help but smile. I loved my job.

  Chapter Two

  The short highway trek between the city and my hometown of Stony Plain took all of seven minutes. My town was special. Though it boasted of big city luxuries, it had a level of safety the city could never claim.

  The population reached about 20,000. The town was cozy enough that most families knew one another but not so cozy that a stranger seemed out of place. I was glad to call it home.

  It was the perfect “grow old together” town. I no longer saw that kind of future for myself. My life didn’t allow for normalcy of the picket fence kind. Of course, I still felt love, in more ways than I could understand. Love remained a confusing and wonderful thing, one power that no one truly harnessed.

  I drove up to a brick building that beckoned to patrons with a simple fluorescent sign that stated the establishment’s name, Lucy’s Lounge. What the place lacked in the way of décor, it made up for in smooth whiskey and fine rock n’ roll.

  The walls were a drab grey. The carpet looked grubby, as if it had been filthy even as it came off the loom. In the center of the bar was a staircase that led to the second floor, which housed another bar and seating area. It was much smaller and less popular than the crowded downstairs.

  Lucy’s Lounge was packed when Jez and I arrived. Nobody appeared to be in the mood for trouble making, but the night wasn’t over yet.

  We moved through the crowded club, an assault of scents battered our sensitive noses. I could smell everything from someone’s jasmine perfume to somebody else’s two-day-old socks. I was glad the club had gone smoke free. My keen senses informed me that Arys was there. I’d know his icy energy anywhere.

  Arys Knight sat at his favorite table near the bar with his human card-playing buddies. Despite his casual posture and eyes on his cards, I knew he was aware of my presence.

  While Jez made her way to the bar, I headed for Arys’s table. He’d never let me avoid him.

  “Alexa.” He said my name as if it were a fine dessert. He brought my hand to his lips in a dramatic gesture of greeting, and the power rose between us as it so often did.

  The part of me that was spent hungered for his cool, undead energy. The other guys around the table laughed as if his grand greeting had been for their benefit, but I knew it was for mine.

  “Hello, Arys. Having a good night?” I gestured to the hand of cards that he held.

  “Always.” He flashed me the smile that he’d been perfecting for centuries, not even a hint of fang visible. He made it impossible not to smile back.

  Arys came off as the cocky, egotistical type of man that I usually detest, but I knew there was more to him than that. He’d lived through things I could only read about and had known a world I would never know.

  “Not making any trouble tonight, are you?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder. Jez was still waiting in line to order.

  “Trouble? Me? You’ve got to be kidding.” He threw cards on the table and said, “Read them and weep boys.” He looked up at me and grinned.

  His forever-youthful grin indicated that he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so when he was turned. The ladies loved him. With a smile like his, I couldn’t blame them. However, when he smiled just for me, the sight of those fangs in that beautifully human face sent a chill racing down my spine.

  I’ve known more than one vampire who dressed like a Victorian movie vamp but not Arys. Piercings in his ears, nose and lip revealed his edgy nature. He was casual in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his well-muscled chest in all of the right places. His eyes were a deep, drowning blue. His hair was slightly spiky and bedroom messy with just a hint of the early Elvis style. To say that I found him attractive would be putting it lightly. He was absolutely gorgeous.

  I knew he was a ruthless killer behind that human mask, but thankfully, I wasn’t on the menu. At least, as far as I knew.

  “So what brings you in? Weren’t you hunting tonight?” he asked, and I had to struggle to clear my head.

  “Somewhat.” I allowed my gaze to wander around the room and observed the other patrons. “I just had something to take care of.”

  When I looked back at Arys, he was watching me closely. Too closely.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just sensing you.”

  This wasn’t anything new. Being a vampire, Arys had sensed the natural power in me the moment we first met.

  “And, what is it that you're sensing?”

  “You,” he repeated but this time he caught my hand firmly in his own and forced me to meet his midnight blue gaze. “You’re weakened.” I was glad the loud music prevented anyone from overhearing. I couldn’t help but be uncomfortably aware of his poker buddies watching us.

  A small spark began in my hand, discernible only to those with the acute ability to feel energy. It flowed quickly up my arm and tickled as it went. Heat began in my palm as my power sought to draw him in. Against my control, it pulsed and began to grow as his power bonded with mine.

  With a gentle push, I felt a surge shiver through me as Arys seemed to breathe energy into me through touch alone. He simply gave up that which I would never willingly take. I wanted to melt into the welcome sensation. Something about the vampire al
ways made my power reach out for him. When the charge fell away, I was left tingling and craving more.

  With a deep breath, I stepped back and pulled my hand away. Arys said nothing, but the look in his eyes said enough. I almost forgot we were in a public place. I shook my head to clear the haze that had developed.

  “I should go keep Jez company in that line up,” I mumbled, trying to find a reason to walk away. My heart pounded as a dose of adrenaline hit me. “I’ll catch you later.”

  “Not if I catch you first,” he replied.

  I couldn’t deny the meaning behind the look he shot me. His eyes held hidden promises of greater desires. Arys made no secret of his infatuation. He had made no attempt to deny his interest nor had he blatantly pursued me. He’d simply made it my choice. I could feel the hot blush that spread across my cheeks when I turned to walk away.

  I thought back to a time when my best friend Kylarai Kramer had asked me if I was curious about Arys, curious about what it would be like with him and all of the power that went with him. Hell yes, I was curious. I was a living, breathing woman after all.

  I was also realistic and cautious. I didn’t want to jump in bed with the vampire just because it was the easiest way to see what we could do metaphysically. Energy just needed to be charged, it didn’t have to be tantric. Arys gave our power exchange that flavor, and honestly, it freaked me out.

  “That one has it bad,” Jez said when I joined her at the bar. I carefully ignored the people behind her who thought I was cutting the line.

  “What?”

  “The smoking hot vampire,” she nodded slightly in Arys’s direction. “I can practically smell the lust from here.”

  “Shut up.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure he has more than his fair share.”