Blood Cure: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (Vampire Huntress Chronicles Book 3) Page 3

  “No, no,” I cry out. “Please, no.”

  “Oh, yes. That was you, Hunter. You killed your friends,” a voice coos. “You monster.”

  “No!” I scream, and the walls shake. For a brief moment, my surroundings shift, and I see Elijah. He’s bare-chested, standing in front of me, breathing heavily. “Elijah!”

  Blood smears his body, his eyes wide and wild as he stares back at me in complete horror that lets me know with absolute certainty he knows what I’ve done. What they made me do.

  “Elijah!” But just as quickly as he’s there, he’s gone. “Elijah!” I scream again. “Please!”

  “You will never see him again,” a new voice says. “You belong to me now. To us.”

  The dark starts to close in on me as pain burns through my mind, and I crumble, falling away into the depths of my hell.

  4

  Elijah

  The quiet is deafening.

  The whiskey in my glass is barely enough to keep the stabbing pain in my chest under control, a minor stay of my execution to be sure. Because without Rainey, I won’t survive. There’s no way in hell—no world I wish to reside in without my Skittle-obsessed, smart-ass hunter.

  And still, I won’t stop searching until I can bring both of us some fucking peace. Whether it’s delivered by ensuring her safety or—I shake my head. I refuse to think of the ‘or’. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Our bond is weak, but even through that slight connection, I can feel her fear, her grief. It adds to my own, a cocktail of emotional turmoil and unbearable pain.

  Tarnley went home a few minutes ago, taking the box and leaving Jane and me to catch up with him once we’ve had the chance to talk with Jack. We even called in Paloma and her husband’s pack, heeding Agatha’s advice on needing as many allies as possible.

  Jane steps into the kitchen and heads straight for the bottle beside me on the counter. After retrieving another glass from my cabinet, I set it beside the bottle and move away so she can have her space.

  “Thanks,” she rasps, her voice still strained despite Agatha’s healing spell.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “You mean after a bitch wearing my best friend’s face slit my throat open? Fantastic,” she replies dryly.

  “Sorry I asked,” I retort and turn my glass up.

  Jane sighs. “I apologize. It’s just, it’s been a fucking month, hasn’t it?”

  Nodding, I continue sipping the whiskey in silence, trying like hell not to focus on the fact that I may never see Rainey again. Delaney’s bird body is still unconscious on the counter, which should bother me, but to be honest, I’ve seen a hell of a lot crazier shit in my day.

  “What are we going to do?” Jane asks after taking a large drink from her glass.

  “Did you know Agatha was alive?” I ignore her question altogether, mainly because I have no damn clue how to answer it.

  “No. That was one hell of a surprise.”

  “Makes sense though, doesn’t it?”

  Her brows draw together, and she looks up at me in confusion. “What makes sense? That she didn’t tell me?”

  I shake my head. “I believed Rainey to be the most powerful hunter in existence, and yet she wasn’t nearly as strong as she should have been. I thought it was lack of practice, and this entire time…”

  “She wasn’t the last of her line,” Jane finishes my thought. “Not even close. With that witch stealing her family’s bones and resurrecting their souls, she would have been feeding off the Astor line for years.”

  “Exactly. Rainey’s parents, Delaney, Agatha, none of them were actually dead.” Yet another way Agatha let her granddaughter down. She allowed Rainey to believe she was the last of the first, the final Astor walking, and the entire time it was a lie.

  “Shit. That hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

  “How the hell is Agatha so powerful?”

  “She’s a lunar divide witch.”

  I choke on my whiskey, coughing and gasping for air as the liquid burns in my throat and nose. “What. The. Hell. Did. You. Say?” I manage to choke out.

  Despite everything going on, Jane is watching me with amusement. “You going to live? Choking on whiskey would be a pretty damned pathetic way to go out for a terrifying vampire.”

  “I’m fine. Glad you enjoyed my show.”

  “It was a nice reprieve, to be sure.”

  I glare at her expectantly.

  “Agatha was born on Halloween during a full moon in nineteen-forty-four. She’s the Astor matriarch; her husband was a hunter.”

  “Son of a bitch, of course.” I close my eyes and shake my head. How the hell did I not realize it sooner? Why did I not bother to look into Rainey’s grandmother? Even as I ask the question, I know the answer. I thought she was dead. Therefore, it wouldn’t have mattered.

  “If you’re kicking yourself for not seeing it, don’t. Agatha went through great lengths to make sure no one knew. Her mother—Rainey’s great grandmother—knew of the target painted on the Lunar Divide witches and had her during a home birth. They altered the birth certificate to show Agatha’s date of birth as being November fifth. The only reason I know about it is because I was there the day Agatha was born.”

  Jane pauses to drink from her whiskey. “Her mother, Zara, was a friend of mine. The first Astor I befriended. I helped deliver Agatha when I was eighteen. I died seven months later when I turned nineteen.”

  “You’ve known the Astors for generations,” I confirm.

  “Yes. Keep your enemies close and all that. Zara didn’t know my true identity though. By then, the line was mainly hunters, and the daughter of the first had secluded herself from the rest of the Astors.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us this before?”

  “Because Agatha was dead before.” Jane meets my gaze. “You need to understand something,” she says softly, a dangerous tone to her voice. “Agatha is dangerous, Elijah. Before she faked her death, she’d spent years filling her void with power.”

  “She killed other witches?”

  “She carried out executions for the witch council. But instead of allowing that power to seep into the earth, returning to the lines where it belonged, she took it in.”

  “I thought only dark witches could perform that spell, ones who sold their soul.”

  “There’s a fine line between the witches who sell their souls and the ones who practice under the dark. And that’s a line Agatha has crossed many times. Do not make an enemy of her. You won’t survive it.”

  Setting my glass down, I consider everything she’s just told me. If what she’s saying is true—and I don’t doubt its legitimacy—Agatha could be an even more powerful ally than I considered. But on that same side—she could be one hell of an adversary. Basically, treading carefully is the smart move here. At least, until we get Rainey back.

  “Do you think we’ll get her back?” Jane asks, mirroring my thoughts so closely I wonder if perhaps I hadn’t uttered that last line out loud.

  “I do,” I say. “Whether that’s hopefulness or an actual belief, I don’t know. But you and I both know even if she’s standing, that does not necessarily equal survival,” I mirror Farah’s words, the punch in them even more potent now that I know what we’re facing. After what happened to Ramirez and Kamie, and with what Heather is doing now, there’s no telling what shape we’ll get Rainey back in.

  Will she still be the woman I love? Or a hollow shell with a broken soul?

  The heavy knock on my front door rips me from my unwelcome thoughts. “Here goes,” I mutter to Jane.

  “Don’t kill him. We need him.”

  “I’ll try,” I retort. After all, the last time I faced off with this particular hunter, things didn’t go so well. I did offer to remove his head from his shoulders multiple times.

  Jane beside me, I pull open the door to Jack Keller’s familiar face and a petite brunette beside him. Shifter if her heartbeat is any indication. Though I can’t unde
rstand why a man who proclaimed himself to be a lycan hunter would be traveling with one.

  Then again, who the hell am I to judge? I’m a vampire in love with a vampire hunter. Aren’t we the perfect team?

  “Vampire,” he greets tightly.

  “Hunter.”

  His gaze travels past me. “Jane.”

  “Jack,” she says.

  The petite brunette clears her throat, and he reaches around to place a hand on her back. “This is Willa.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Willa Akacheta?” I confirm, seeing the resemblance almost immediately.

  She turns dark eyes on me. “Do we know each other?”

  “No, but I know your father.”

  Her eyes widen. “You do?”

  Nodding, I step to the side to allow them entry. “He will be here soon,” I tell her as I close the silver-lined door behind them.

  “My father is coming here?”

  “Yes. I am Elijah Hawthorne, by the way,” I say, extending my hand.

  She takes it and smiles. “Elijah, I’ve heard quite a bit about you from the Drakes. They are not a fan of yours. Or weren’t, anyway.” She glances up at Jack, who wraps an arm protectively around her shoulders.

  Interesting.

  “Weren’t? Am I to understand they are no longer an issue?” I ask Jack directly.

  “No. They aren’t.”

  “Good to know.”

  Jack and Willa move further into the house, stopping near the hall that leads to the kitchen. “Let’s cut to the fucking chase, bloodsucker. Where’s Rainey?”

  “As I told you on the phone,” I say, crossing both arms. “Rainey isn’t here, which is why I asked you to come.”

  “Where is she?”

  “My best guess would be completely unaware that some bitch is riding shotgun in her body,” Jane replies angrily.

  “I’m sorry, what? Riding shotgun in her body? What the hell does that even mean?”

  “Rainey opened a box back in Salem. It contained the souls of thirteen witches, including that of the original witch. Inside, the box also contains the original witch’s grimoire and a hell of a lot of dark magic, which Rainey absorbed into her body along with the soul of the original.”

  “The original—Heather—has since possessed Rainey’s body in her attempt to fully resurrect herself.”

  Jack doesn’t say a damn word, just glares at me as if I handed her the fucking box and fed her to Heather like a Happy Meal.

  Willa clears her throat. “If the original witch possessed her, doesn’t that mean she’s already resurrected?”

  Beside me, Jane shakes her head. “She can’t reside in Rainey’s body for long. While there is a void due to her being a lunar witch, there will still be issues as long as Rainey’s soul is present.”

  “Lunar witch? What the fuck is a lunar witch? Rainey’s a hunter,” Jack adds.

  “Thank you for pointing that out,” I retort dryly. “Here I didn’t realize we didn’t have that piece of information.”

  Jack drops his arms, clenching his fists at his sides as he steps toward me. “Want to go now, asshole? I have no trouble taking your head and getting Rainey back myself. Since you’ve made such a fucking mess of the whole thing.”

  I take a step forward and glare at him. We’re close to the same height, though I have at least an inch on him. “Try.” That single word is laced with all of my anger, my rage, my helplessness.

  “Easy, boys,” Willa says, placing a hand on Jack’s chest. “Let’s take a breather.”

  Jack’s eyes widen as a bird lands on my shoulder. Delaney’s presence gives me a bit of calm in this fucked-up storm. “I believe you remember Delaney,” I say dryly, and he stumbles back, eyes widening almost comically.

  Except, I kind of feel for him. Or would if he wasn’t a massive fucking asshole.

  “Delaney? You expect me to believe Delaney is a fucking bird?”

  “A crow, actually,” Jane explains. “You’ve missed a lot, Hunter.”

  “Then how about you two start filling me in on everything that’s happened since I left?”

  Another knock on the door. “That would be the pack,” Jane says as she heads toward the door.

  She pulls it open and Paloma rushes inside, her husband beside her. “Where is she?” she demands.

  “The bloodsucker lost her,” Jack says dryly.

  Paloma’s eyes meet his. “And who the hell are you?”

  “Dad?” Willa whispers as soon as Josiah steps into the room. He stops mid-step and stares at her, tears in his eyes.

  “Willa?”

  They rush toward each other, clashing in the middle, tears slipping freely down both sets of cheeks. I want to urge them to hurry up with the fucking reunion. After all, we have a much bigger issue here.

  But I don’t.

  Mainly because Rainey wouldn’t.

  She’d give them the time they needed to reconnect, considering this is a father and daughter who never thought they’d see each other again.

  Cole, the shifter who accompanied Rainey to the warehouse massacre and helped her find the bones of her ancestors, steps around them, crossing the space and stopping in front of us. He holds out a hand to Jack first then Jane. “I’m Cole.”

  “Jane.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  “Jack,” the hunter greets tightly, and Cole nods before stepping out of the way and turning to me. “You holding up?”

  I nod. He’s the first other than Tarnley who’s bothered to ask how I’m doing, and while I appreciate the sentiment, I’d much rather get moving on a plan. Use that energy to figure out how the hell to get Rainey back rather than spending any longer wallowing in the fact that she’s gone.

  “Dad, this is Jack. He rescued me,” Willa says as she releases her father and steps back.

  Josiah beams and reaches forward with an outstretched hand. “Jack, I forever owe you a debt.”

  Jack smiles down at Willa, and in his gaze, I see love. Plain and simple. And when Delaney leans against me, I know that even in her current state, she sees it too. Honestly, it makes me respect him a hell of a lot more.

  A man who can love like that is a man willing to fight.

  And there’s about to be one hell of a war.

  “The Drakes?” Josiah asks.

  “Apparently, Jack here killed them all,” I offer up.

  The hunter glares at me. “All except the patriarch.”

  “You left one alive? Why?” Josiah asks, his tone slightly irritated.

  Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. “Henry Drake gave me this. Supposedly, it’s the name of the witch who ordered Delaney’s death.” He hands it over, and I stare down at the address scrawled. It’s one I know well, and rage burns inside my veins as I fight to control the beast once again.

  Only, this time, I think I may let him have the blood he craves.

  “Do you know where that is?” Jack asks, and I nod.

  “I know this witch,” I tell him.

  Jane clears her throat, though I know it’s more because of her own pain, not to get my attention. “Who is it?”

  I meet her gaze, a low growl escaping my throat as I try to come up with a logical explanation. “Stella.”

  5

  Rainey

  My head throbs as I come awake, eyes fluttering open beneath a stone ceiling I don’t recognize. Did I black out again? The room is cold, the stone damp, and I sit up, my entire body aching like I just took an ass-kicking.

  I glance around the room, not seeing anything but stone. Then my eyes meet the front, and I panic. Surging to my feet, I rush forward and grip thick, silver bars.

  “Hello?” I yell and try to shake the bars. They don’t budge. Where the hell am I? “Elijah!” I scream. “Elijah!” Please tell me it was all a horrible dream.

  I close my eyes, trying to use my waning strength to tug on the bars.

  Ramirez. I can still see him, throat open
, lying beside Kamie, and the memory guts me. My stomach clenches, my body shaking as I try to pull myself together. I grip the bars harder to keep the grief from taking me to my knees.

  There will be time for pain.

  For grieving.

  But only after I get the fuck out of this prison cell.

  “Elijah!” I scream again.

  “I’m afraid he won’t be able to help you, dear.” A familiar voice from the shadows ahead makes my stomach churn.

  “Stella?”

  She emerges under the single lamp above, just on the other side of my cage. A golden skirt falls to her ankles, a crimson, long-sleeve shirt covering the tattoos on both arms. “Hello, Rainey.” White eyes meet mine and another chill travels up my spine.

  “Where the fuck am I? Let me out.”

  “I can’t do that,” she says with a chuckle as she walks toward a chair in the corner where she sits, crossing one leg over another, and smooths the lines of her skirt.

  “What happened?” I don’t trust this woman—this witch—despite the fact that Elijah did. The light I’d sensed the first time we met is gone, replaced with a shadow that reminds me of the nightmarish place I just woke up from.

  “You remember,” she says softly, leaning back and folding both hands in her lap. “So why do you ask? Is it perhaps that you don’t wish to recall the events that brought you here?”

  “Let me out, or I will kill you,” I snarl.

  She chuckles. “Oh, my dear Rainey. You are so like your sister.” Black swirls inside her white eyes, a storm brewing and proof of the shadows I sense. “Unfortunately for you, your fate will be close to the same as hers.”

  I glare at her. Rage unfurls within me, gasoline on an already volatile flame. “You had her killed.”

  “Sort of. More like aided in her quest to die.”

  “Delaney didn’t want to die.”

  Stella chuckles. “There is much you don’t know about your sister. Tell me, why do you think she left the box for you to find?”

  “She didn’t know—”

  “She knew exactly what she was doing and still chose to complete the action. Your sister was not as pristine as you like to believe. I warned her, told her she needed to back away from it all, but still, she chose to stay—to open the box herself. It ended up working out since it gave her the chance to leave it for you, but her death was a lot messier than it had to be. She could have walked off a bridge and instead chose to ask a shifter to kill her. When he refused, I stepped in and offered aid.”