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

by Jonathan Yanez

  Sloan and Aareth ran down a slight hill in the road. When they came to the other side, it was a straight shot to New Hope’s city gates. Sloan’s worst fears were realized. The sirens had given the soldiers enough warning to not only swing the gates shut, but to also form a firing line at the front.

  No less than ten rifles were pointed in her direction at the moment.

  A plan came to mind, a plan so insane, Sloan knew she was already changing from the queen’s captain of the guard to some kind of rebel leader willing to take risks.

  “Aareth, don’t kill them.” Sloan was surprised she was able to speak loud and clear, despite her lungs working overtime to support her speed. “You owe me one for saving you. Plus, I’ll bite you if you kill them. I need you to hold them off for a few seconds. I can get us through the gate.”

  The nod from the massive wolf-creature that bounded next to her on all fours might have been Sloan’s imagination, but Aareth did look at her when she spoke.

  There was no time left to plan. Sloan took a position in front of Aareth as the gunfire from the rifles exploded into the air. Whether the soldiers were terrified or Sloan was simply moving too fast, two bullets found their mark—one in her left thigh, and the other in her right shoulder.

  Sloan felt the pain, but it seemed to have even less of an effect than Aareth’s bite. Sloan ran the last few yards to the soldiers, who were half-terrified, half-concentrating on lowering their rifles to unsheathe their swords.

  To Sloan, they moved in slow motion as she vaulted over their line. In her hand, her mage sword came to glowing red life as she swung the blade hilt deep into the massive wooden door that denied them their escape.

  Gritting her teeth, Sloan maneuvered her mage sword around in a huge circle. Slower than she would have liked, the heated metal ate through the wood, carving a path to freedom.

  Sloan could hear Aareth more than she could see him as he barked and roared at the soldiers. Out of Sloan’s peripheral vision, she could see uniformed figures flying through the air, only to come crashing down yards from their previous spots.

  Sweat formed on Sloan’s brow as she carved the blade through the wood. A dozen questions and doubts attacked her as her body strained against the task, but her mind was free to wander.

  What was she becoming? Who would make it to Term in three days? She really should have been more specific in telling them exactly where to meet.

  Sloan finished her rough circle that looked like a two-year-old had attempted to draw a sphere. With the same kick she used to dispatch The Scar, Sloan slammed her foot into the makeshift door. It flew out the other side of the gate without pause.

  “Aareth.” Sloan turned to see how her accomplice was fairing. “We’re home fr—”

  The words died in her mouth. Soldiers who were stupid enough to stay to fight had been scattered around the scene like empty beer bottles at a party. Aareth was sitting down, looking at her, a severed arm in his mouth, his tail wagging furiously. One soldier moaned beside him, holding the fresh wound.

  “Are you kidding me?” Sloan marched over to Aareth, taking the arm from his mouth with a scowl. “What happened to not permanently hurting them?”

  Sloan moved to the groaning soldier. She took off his belt and wrapped it around the wound, then placed his arm beside him.

  “Hang in there. I can already hear help on the way. They’ll be here in seconds. Your arm isn’t lost. Tell them to ice it and they’ll be able to reattach it. I’m sorry about Aareth; he’s still getting used to the whole wolf thing.”

  The soldier’s face was pale from lack of blood, but he nodded along with Sloan’s explanation. “Thank you?”

  Sloan nodded, getting back to her feet. She glared at Aareth, who lowered his head in shame.

  “Come on.” Sloan jumped through the hole in New Hope’s gate. “We have an appointment in Term to make, and a war to plan.”

  End Book Two

  Epilogue

  Elizabeth

  “When can I see my sister? And Jack, you said I could see them.”

  “And you will. You know the deal. You master this first step in your journey and you’ll be allowed to visit them,” Leah Noble stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “I promise you, they are safe and close by, now focus.”

  Beads of sweat fell down Elizabeth’s brow as she concentrated on her open palms. More than anything she wanted to conjure the magical force to not only see her sister but to be done with Leah Noble at least until their next session.

  “Breath slowly,” Leah coached from the other side of Elizabeth’s new room. “Empty everything in your head and feel the power that courses through you. Don’t think you can, know you can.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. Frustration at not being able to bring the magic to her palms enraged her. Why couldn’t she do it? It seemed simple enough. There was no doubt she was special, so why couldn’t she touch the mage power like Jack and Leah could.

  “Your sister thinks there’s something wrong with you,” Leah’s voice penetrated Elizabeth’s concentration. “She thinks you can be fixed from what you are.”

  Elizabeth knew Leah was trying to poison her mind, she knew her sister was only trying to look out for her but there was a part of her that agreed with Leah. Since Abigail discovered that Elizabeth had been experimented on in the secret laboratory in Burrow Den she had been adamant about finding a cure. The truth was, Elizabeth liked being different. It was who she was now.

  “I say there is nothing wrong with you,” Leah coaxed on. “I say you’re as complete as you ever could be. Now, child find the flame within yourself and become what you were always meant to be.”

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She felt hot. Her hands started to shake. Something was happening like a piece of her that was locked away was now suddenly free.

  “Open your eyes,” Leah instructed.

  Elizabeth obeyed. What she saw scared and amazed her at the same time.

  Both her hands were alive with dancing flames of yellow magic. Not only that every piece of furniture in her luxurious new room hovered two feet above the ground. From her king sized bed to the brush on her nightstand everything floated in the air.

  “This is what you are,” Leah gave her a sly smile. “And this is only the beginning.”

  A Special Note For You

  Hello friends,

  Thank you, thank you, thank you, not just for reading my work but staying interested enough to read and finish book two.

  By far this has been my most successful series. I’ve been writing for five years now with fourteen books published before I began penning The Vampire Project books. Up until that point my sales were dismal. I’ll keep my drama in check but between you and me I was disappointed. I knew that I would never stop writing but pouring hours of effort into a novel and seeing so little interest was beginning to wear on my determination.

  But then, like a surprise fart, my career took a turn. I wish I could take credit for this but honestly there were only two things that really changed. First, I started investing serious money into my books. My wife began running Facebook and Amazon ads for my books, she booked promotion sites and worked with the cover designer to create the covers you see on all The Vampire Project books.

  She’s been amazing. Not just because she believes in me to the point she’s willing to invest money into my product but because she’s taken it all on in stride. Through the process I haven’t heard her complain once. Okay, maybe she did mumble something about not sleeping anymore but other than that she’s been a trooper.

  The second major thing that saved my writing career has been the support from other authors. There are so many great writers who offered advice when I reached out or featured my book in their newsletter or blog. Everyone was willing to give me some advice and a push in the right direction.

  So here we are finishing book two and beginning book three. This is a great time to tell you that I’ve been reading your reviews on Amazon and I’ve
noticed a few people say they felt mislead by the synopsis since it seems like the novel will take place completely from Sloan’s point of view. I’m listening and I agree. You may have noticed a large portion of the end of House of Blood, comes from Sloan’s point of view, that’s not a coincidence.

  I’m already working on book three in the series and I’ll be writing from Sloan’s view point for the majority of the book. I think the bulk of the tale revolves around her. I’m thinking a sixty to seventy percent split between her and the other characters would be nice. But we’ll see a lot can happen when you’re a pantser like I am. Oh, wait if you don’t know what a pantser is you might get the wrong impression of me.

  A “pantser” is a term writers use to describe someone who writes by the seat of their pants. This means I do no outlining at all. Some people call me crazy and they’d be right. I know where I want the story to go when I sit down to write and it’s more fun for me to follow the characters in their adventure letting them dictate how things happen. It’s like I’m along with them for the ride.

  I still however, have to take notes, with so many characters, backstory and terms to remember I’m having to note every time I introduce a new character or an important piece of information in a character’s back story so I can stay true to the story.

  Anyway it’s been great chatting with you but I have a gnome speaking gibberish in my head that I have to attend to.

  Finally, if you can spare a few minutes of your day leaving a review for the book would mean a lot. It helps other likeminded readers decide if they want to invest the time in my story or not. I know it’s just a review to you but to me it means more visibility for my novels.

  You’re the best. I hope you decide to join my Wolf Pack (keep reading) so we can stay in touch,

  Jonathan

  Dark Magic

  Book Three of the Vampire Project Series

  “An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

  “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

  The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

  The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

  -Cherokee Proverb

  To Audrey, I told you I’d put your name in a book.

  Chapter One

  Sloan

  “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary around here? We’re looking for a woman, she’s probably traveling with something that looks like a wolf. You also might have seen her with another man in his mid thirties and a gnome.”

  “Haven’t seen anyone like that around these parts.” The man behind the bar wiped at the already clean bar top. “I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open.”

  Everyone in the establishment tensed. The words shared between the soldier from New Hope and the bartender were friendly enough, but each syllable came out stressed.

  “You wouldn’t be lying to old Tensor, now would you?” The leader of the soldiers was a six-foot-tall man with a barrel chest and balding head. “Maybe I should talk to the owner, just to be sure.”

  “Well, you’re already talking to him.” The bartender put down his rag, looking at the soldier for the first time. “I’m the owner. Like I said, there’s been no one in here fitting your description.”

  “Well then, you wouldn’t mind if we have a look around,” Tensor said, examining the inside of the bar. He adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and hooked both thumbs into his pants.

  “Actually, I’d prefer it if you left. You see this is Term, and were not too big on being interrogated in our own establishments.”

  Sloan sat in her chair in the back corner of the room. Her sword was hidden in the folds of a long cloak. A hood hid her features well enough, but she knew if the soldiers got much closer, she would have to fight her way out.

  She didn’t recognize the group of New Hope soldiers that came searching the bar in Term, but if they tried to push their luck, she already felt sorry for them. This particular bar was jammed full of shady-looking characters, from shifters to gargoyles and a few humans added in, and one thing was apparent: Sloan wasn’t in New Hope anymore.

  Inside the city, it was safe to assume the paranormal would consist of the sighting of a random gnome on his way to work, or a wizard or a witch passing through. In the Outland, the paranormal were as common as humans.

  The interior of the establishment Sloan had found herself in would also make conflict difficult for the soldiers; Sloan would be able to slice through them before they could draw a bead on her. The room was mostly filled with wooden tables and chairs. Intricate paintings of animals adorned the walls, ranging from beavers to lions. The bar stood in the middle of the room and a door led deeper into the structure.

  Fragrances wafted from the room, reminding Sloan of how long it had been since she’d had a real meal.

  “Are you saying the queen and her soldiers are not welcome in Term?” Tensor shoved a meaty hand into his waistband and drew his pistol. He placed it onto the table with a dull thud.

  “No.” The bartender crossed his arms over his chest. His right eyebrow arched over his unnaturally bright orange eyes. “I’m not speaking for the whole city. I’m just speaking for my bar, The Shifter. You’re just not welcome here.”

  Silence covered the whole room now; the white noise of men and women talking at the bar and at the tables had quieted. Everyone was either outright staring at the conversation taking place, or pretending not to be paying attention.

  Outside, somewhere in the distance, a horse galloped down the main road. Sloan wasn’t afraid of getting into a fight. Whatever it was she was becoming was more than willing and able to kill all of the queen’s men at the bar. Still, she hadn’t found her friends yet, and giving herself away would do nothing to help her attain that goal.

  “You innocent shifting prick.” With his right hand, Tensor lifted his pistol from the bar. He pressed the barrel of the weapon against the bar owner’s chest. “I should kill you right—”

  Before Tensor could finish the rest of his sentence, movement cascaded across the inside of the bar. Every single man or woman, paranormal or not, stood from his or her seat. Weapons of every make and model were produced from sheaths, belts, and harnesses.

  In the second it took for the action to happen, Sloan counted at least half a dozen firearms, three throwing blades, and two magically enhanced staffs pointed at the group of soldiers, Tensor in particular.

  Tensor stood stunned. The group of four soldiers under his command didn’t even have time to say anything, much less raise their own weapons in return.

  “You should get going before something bad happens to you and your men.” The bartender turned away the pistol aimed at his chest. “You see, not only at The Shifter, but in Term in general, we stick together. We have no love for you, or your queen.”

  Tensor gulped visibly; his fat Adam’s apple bobbed like an actual apple in a barrel of water. He lowered his pistol, placing it back into his belt. The entire time, he ignored eye contact with the bar owner.

  “Men.” Tensor cleared his throat, taking in the vast array of weapons still being pointed at him. “We’ll be going now. It doesn’t seem the people we’re looking for are here.”

  There was no argument from any of the soldiers who followed in his wake. They maneuvered around the bar’s occupants, who refused to move to make way for them.

  The next second, the group from New Hope were gone. As soon as the swinging doors closed behind them, the room erupted in a roar of laughter.

  “A round of drinks o
n the house!” the bartender yelled above the noise of celebration. “And thank all of you rotten drunks. I was starting to worry I was going to have to kill the entire group of them myself.”

  “You could’ve taken them, Kade.”

  “They practically pissed themselves, did you see that?”

  “Did the shifter king say drinks on the house! What are we waiting for?”

  Sloan couldn’t help smiling as she witnessed the ragtag group of human and paranormal descend on the bar. There was more shouting and laughing, a lot of backslapping and clinking of glasses.

  Sloan found her amusement at the sight short-lived. She was hoping that she would be able to catch some sign of Edison, Jack, even Elwood. Since her and Aareth’s escape from New Hope, there had been no sign of the others in Term. Everyone she had asked thus far only looked her up and down with disdain and shook their heads.

  Money was nonexistent. Sloan was reminded of this as her stomach rumbled with frustration. What was her next move? Aareth was still in his half-human, half-wolf form. It was all she could do to find a place for him to hide while she entered the town to look for the others. She hoped he had listened to her and was still there waiting where she had left him, when she returned.

  “So what did you do to piss off the queen?” Kade stood in front of Sloan with a pitcher of water and a steaming plate of food that smelled better than anything Sloan could remember. “Must have been something pretty bad if there are soldiers willing to knock on my door.”

  Sloan kicked herself for allowing her thoughts to wander so far, she hadn’t realized Kade had been walking toward her. She looked into his bright orange eyes, wondering what kind of animal he shifted into.

  “I didn’t play nice in New Hope.” Sloan lowered her hand so her fingers tapped across the sword at her side. “How did you know the soldiers were looking for me?”