The Complete Vampire Project Series: (Books 1 - 5)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Jack

  That night, Jack couldn’t sleep. Somewhere between tears and questions of what the future would bring in New Hope, sleep escaped him. Deciding against spending the next few hours in bed searching for slumber, Jack threw on his shirt and walked downstairs. Candles were lit in the large entry room.

  The disaster the creature made the previous night was cleared away, the broken window boarded and the glass shards swept. Marcus’ body was cleaned and wrapped and prepared for transport to New Hope, where Sloan assured him he would receive a hero’s burial.

  “Can’t sleep either, huh?” Aareth coughed from Sloan’s side as they looked down at an open book together.

  “No, too much has happened over the past few days. My mind won’t stop thinking.”

  “I know what you mean, Jack.” Sloan glanced up from the table where the journal that was found in the cave laboratory lay open. “This log isn’t making things any easier.”

  “There’s more?” Jack stood next to Sloan and Aareth. “More than we already know?”

  “Not necessarily.” Sloan stretched with a grimace. “Just more questions about who this order that Dr. Livingston belongs to is and why they would be performing these experiments.”

  “And what experiments were successful in New Hope to have shut the cave laboratory down. I feel like this is all connected with the assassination attempt on the Queen’s life.” Aareth coughed into his fist. “I’m fine; just something in my throat.”

  Jack thought back to Elizabeth’s confession about being the girl mentioned in the journal but decided to keep her secret. Instead, he asked what they were wondering. “What do you think is waiting for us back in New Hope?”

  “I don’t know,” Aareth frowned, “but there’s a real possibility Burrow Den is just the start to all of this.”

  “The crisis in Burrow Den is over,” Sloan agreed. “But I’m afraid the battle for New Hope is just beginning.”

  End Book One

  Epilogue

  Sloan

  “Aareth, Aareth, what’s happening to you?” Sloan couldn’t chance even a glance at her friend. The dark figures advancing on them moved too quickly. “Are you hurt?”

  Screams, no, howls of pain ripped from Aareth’s throat. His body heaved on all fours as if he was being torn from the inside out.

  “He’s the first of his kind.” The lead figure drew back his hood, revealing a pale face with a long scar on the right side. “Just like I was the first of mine.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sloan drew her saber. She flipped the switch to begin heating the weapon’s blade, gripping the pommel so tight her hand shook. The light of the full moon gave her enough illumination to count her enemies. There were seven of them wrapped in dark clothing. The shadows cast by the buildings on either side of the wide alley clung to the figures as if darkness itself welcomed them. “I know who you are; you’re the assassin.”

  “I was an assassin.” The man spread his arms wide, calling a halt to the advancing figures on either side. Without so much as a look in his direction, they stopped in their tracks. “Now, thanks to the experiments done to me, I am something so much more.”

  Sloan slowed her breathing. She steadied the grip on her blade. It was shaking before, not because she was frightened, but at the flow of adrenaline that proceeded every battle.

  Aareth pounded the pavement, still screaming his rage. The thuds of his fists making contact with the ground soon came with an accompanying splash.

  “Go ahead, look,” the man in front of her said. “We won’t kill you yet. To miss the transformation of such a wondrous beast would be a shame.”

  A mix of concern for her friend and pure horrific intrigue made Sloan look to Aareth. What she saw chilled her to the bone.

  The knuckles on both of Aareth’s hands were bloody. Ripped flesh hung off his hands in red ribbons. This wasn’t even the worst part. The irises of his eyes had gone yellow. Her heart seized in her chest as she witnessed the impossible.

  Dark fur rippled across his body, hands and feet transformed into paws in front of her eyes. A snout sprouted out of his mouth and salivating teeth snapped an angry staccato.

  In seconds, Aareth was gone. In front of her was a half man, half wolf of a creature. It swung its head to Sloan, then to the robed men and back again. There was no sign of recollection in its hungry eyes, only madness. It transitioned its weight onto its muscular hind legs, ready to spring. At whom was anyone’s guess.

  “Truly exceptional,” Sloan’s advisory breathed. He took a step closer. The moon caught his eyes, briefly showing blood red irises. “Both born from experiments, both similar yet so different. Well, that’s enough of that. Kill them both.”

  Sloan took a step away from the monster Aareth had become to focus on the immediate threat. The six figures that had remained still up until now, streaked towards Sloan. They moved so fast, she could only see one thing against their dark clothing: wide open mouths with long knife-like fangs.

  Aareth was a wild card now. It was up to her and the steel she wielded to see this encounter through to the end. Her saber hummed with heat. The sound gave her courage. Never the shy type, Sloan charged forward to meet the attack.

  A Special Note For You

  Author’s Note

  Hello, Wolves,

  If you’re reading this, it means you’ve not only read the entire book, but you’re investing the time to get to know me. Thank you! Without readers like you, writing would always be a hobby instead of a fulltime job.

  I started writing while I was in college but wasn’t really committed to the long road and sacrifice that becoming a fulltime author entailed. Right out of college, I needed a little thing called money, surprise, surprise, so I took the first job I could find.

  Enter Enterprise Rent-A-Car; yeah, you read that right. I was sucked into the world of sales and management right away, and for the next five years, I was involved in a love-hate relationship with the company. Whenever things got tough, I would always turn to writing as an escape.

  I don’t want to be a drama king; it wasn’t a horrible job. It was, however, a ton of hours, but I got to the point where I was able to work my way up to a management position overseeing thousands of vehicles at the location in the John Wayne Airport in Orange County.

  Five years into working for The Man, I decided that I didn’t want to rent cars for the rest of my life. I wasn’t happy. I reached the point where, I didn’t even want to try and get a promotion. My boss was always stressed out and worked an insane amount of hours.

  So, like any good twenty-five-year-old does, I quit. I didn’t have any other backup plan but to write. My wife loved that. My back was against the wall and I penned my first novel in a month. The Beast Within was born.

  Well, I got some knowledge dropped on me right away. While searching for representation for their work, writers aren’t making any money. Yeah, I was back to square one. I needed to bring in some income while my dream of becoming a writer had time to bloom.

  I love the gym and was there every morning anyway, so I decided to work part time as a personal trainer at 24 Hour Fitness until my writing career took off.

  Years passed, but eventually, I was able to find a small publisher and I began writing for them as well as my own independently published books. After a few years as a personal trainer, I was finally able to leave and focus on writing fulltime.

  The journey has been rough, but I’ve learned so much. So many opportunities have arisen now, all stemming from my flexible schedule as a writer. Last year, I was approached by a modeling agency, and since then, I’ve been on shoots including Budweiser, Nissan, Kawasaki, and Bank of America.

  Writing will always be my first passion and fulltime job, but it’s nice to get out of the cave a few times a year to go on a shoot.

  Anyway, that’s my story in a nutshell. I love connecting with readers and fans, so please feel free to add me on Facebook; t
hat’s where I spend most of my time on social media https://www.facebook.com/JonathanYanezAuthor/

  Jonathan

  Blood Slayer

  Book Two of the Vampire Project Series

  “Wolves don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.”

  -Unknown

  To Cherub Eagle Eyes, you know who you are. You know my books wouldn’t be the same without you. I’m grateful to have a friend, fan and beta reader like you.

  Prologue

  Aareth

  The burning in his lungs that should have brought him to a standstill was manageable. The multiple knife and gun wounds that ravaged his body should have put him in a hospital. Right now, physical pain was acceptable. Aareth Emerson, inspector to the city of New Hope, raced down its cobbled streets in a manic state.

  His current case had led him to infiltrate the largest and most dangerous gang in New Hope, the Bloodstone family. They were suspected of having their hands in everything from drugs to prostitution. There were even whispers of something more evil at work, something spoken of only at night or in the shadows, something called The Order.

  Aareth had worked for months infiltrating their ranks until he had been admitted to a meeting with the head of the family, Don Bosque. The meeting had taken place only minutes before. The events that led to Aareth running down the streets of New Hope now played back in his mind.

  “Don Bosque Bloodstone,” Aareth had said, lowering his head as was customary. The head of the Bloodstone crime syndicate demanded every courtesy. “It’s an honor.”

  “Please.” The rotund man behind the oak desk opened his arms in welcome. “one such as you, who has already done so much for the family in such little time, may address me as ‘friend.’”

  Aareth lifted his eyes. He took in every detail around him. The room lined with books and maps, the expensive liquor on the desk, the pair of armed men behind him. His mission was almost complete. He had entered the Bloodstone mansion. All that was left was to find the family ledger listing their illegal contributions to the city. Aareth probably wouldn’t get his hands on it today, but he was well on his way.

  “My men tell me, a few months back, you were a common street thug looking for work. Now here you stand, after completing job after job for the family. I applaud your ambition, Inspector Emerson.”

  Aareth’s blood turned to ice in his veins. His heart attacked his rib cage in a sharp staccato rhythm. His cover was blown.

  “I’m sorry, Don.” Aareth tried to recover from his shock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My name is Alan Moore, I’m—”

  “We can cut the dramatics, to save us both time.” Don Bosque waved his enormous hand as if he were shooing away a fly. He rapped three times on his oak table. The loud booms acted like a signal. The doors into his office opened. Two more men entered.

  Aareth looked over his shoulder at the hired muscle. They were all large human beings. Aareth counted a gun, a knife, and two clubs amongst the group.

  “If you already know who I am”—Aareth slowed his breathing—“then you should have known to bring more men.”

  Don Bosque’s grin went from one of evil mirth to uncertainty.

  Aareth didn’t wait for them to make the initial move. He rushed the first man, bringing his elbow up in a vicious uppercut to the underside of his jaw. The man crumpled. A gunshot rang out, and pain followed a millisecond behind the roar. The bullet lodged in Aareth’s left shoulder.

  Ignoring the pain, Aareth dodged a strike from his next attacker’s knife. The razor carved a shallow cut across his left cheek. A well-placed punch to his enemy’s throat left the thug on his knees, gasping for breath against a shattered Adam’s apple.

  There were still two left. One was desperately trying to reload his pistol, while the other was already swinging a club at Aareth’s skull.

  Aareth caught the poor excuse for a swing in both hands. He broke the man’s wrist, taking his own weapon from him. Next, Aareth slammed the club against his adversary’s temple before turning to the slow pistol loader.

  “If you’re going to choose a pistol as your main weapon, you should really work on your reload time,” Aareth said before taking the man down with a strike from the club.

  Another shot rang out. Red-hot pain erupted in Aareth’s left leg. He was lucky. Instead of the bullet burying itself in his flesh, it grazed his leg, going on to find a final resting place in the Don’s bookcase.

  A bloodstain was already seeping through Aareth’s pant leg. Aareth looked past the smoking barrel of the Don’s pistol and into the pudgy man’s beady eyes. Fear was present in the Don’s face, but not nearly as much as should be there.

  “You’re under arrest for crimes against the city of New Hope,” Aareth started.

  “And you should really get to that pretty wife of yours,” the Don said, lowering his pistol. He glanced at a clock on his desk. “I sent a group of men to take care of her, at the same time this meeting was taking place. It was insurance. You learn about insurance when you get to be a Don in New Hope.”

  “You’re bluffing.” Aareth took a few angry steps toward the Don. “You’re a liar.”

  “I never bluff, Inspector Emerson.” The Don smiled over his double chin. “And I am a liar, but not this time.”

  More than anything, Aareth wanted to write off the Don’s words as the act of a desperate man. But he couldn’t take the risk. Panic was sending another surge of adrenaline through his body. Aareth limped forward and hit the Don in the jaw with his club, the large man fell to the floor as though he’d all of a sudden forgotten how to stand.

  Now, Aareth was ignoring the pain and pushing his limits as he pounded down the city streets to his apartment. Rounding the corner to his house confirmed the worst. The windows to his ground-level flat were shattered on the street. A group of onlookers were already surrounding the scene.

  “Brenda!” Aareth screamed. He ran toward his ravaged home. Ignoring the closed door, Aareth jumped through the windows, cutting himself on the jagged glass. Every one of his senses became numb when he saw her body. Her perfect frame lay on the floor in a pool of blood.

  “No, no, no!” Tears streamed down his face. He ran to her, sliding on her blood, and fell to his knees to cradle her limp form. “Brenda, Brenda!”

  Aareth choked out sobs as he searched for the pulse he knew he would not find. The only thing on her neck was angry red marks, telling him she had been strangled.

  The blood wasn’t hers; it must have belonged to her attackers. A testament to her will to live. Screaming met Aareth’s ears as he held her close to his chest. Later, Aareth was told he’d been the one screaming. The yelling soon turned into howling. Roars of anger and rage continued from some primal part of him that had just been recently awoken.

  Aareth jolted awake from his nightmare. It was just a nightmare, a memory that had visited him over and over again through the years. Except this time, the ending had been different. This time, there had been howling and the feeling of something furious inside of him clawing to get out.

  Chapter One

  Jack

  It just didn’t seem right; none of it seemed right. Through a haze of pain and sorrow, Jack looked out through the locomotive’s window at the city’s cheering population. Bands played uplifting tunes from the time they’d reached the outer walls of the city of New Hope. The music hit Jack and washed over him, doing nothing to affect his mood.

  His eyes were grim, as were those of his companions. Jack witnessed Sloan nod and wave a hand from her seat, trying to appear grateful. He couldn’t hold it against her. She was the captain of the queen’s personal guard. It was her duty to act the conquering hero, returned from a great adventure.

  A swarm of soldiers on either side of the locomotive jogged at a steady pace, accompanying them to their destination. Jack, Sloan, Aareth, Abigail, and Elizabeth all sat in the passenger car directly behind the lead steam engine.

  If his father’s lifeless body
wasn’t lying in a box in the last car of the locomotive, Jack would have had a different attitude. Anything but a deep, hollow feeling was hard for him to conjure up now. He hated the emptiness he felt, but he was powerless to do anything against it.

  “A few more minutes and this will be over.” Sloan stood next to Jack. She stared out his window. “Once the queen greets us at the palace, I’ll make sure giving Marcus the hero’s burial he deserves is my top priority.”

  “Thank you.” Jack failed at a smile. “I know you will.”

  Jack was saved from having to voice any more thoughts as a shrill blast cut through the noise of the cheering crowd. Under a fog of smoke, the locomotive slowly came to a halt.

  Sloan was the first to open the door. She exited, followed by Aareth. The once-city-inspector-turned-assassin, and now something in between, looked at Jack with solemnness in his eyes. “Give me the word, and I’ll walk the other way with you. I know you’re hurting right now. Being greeted with a bunch of smiles and laughter is the last thing you want. We’ll blend into the crowd, maybe go grab a drink … or twenty.”

  “Tempting.” Jack shook his head. “But my father would want me to see this all the way through.”

  “I understand.” Aareth massaged the miraculously healed arm that had, days ago, been mangled by the Burrow Den Beast. Without another word, the large man followed Sloan outside.

  Elizabeth and Abigail came next, the first giving Jack a warm smile before leaving the car, the latter extending a hand. “Together?”