Blood Destiny (2 page)

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Authors: Tessa Dawn

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Dark Fantasy, #Romance

BOOK: Blood Destiny
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by Tessa Dawn

As one of the oldest and more powerful of the Dark Vampires, Valentine had managed to take Shelby's life without ever lifting a finger—without ever drawing a single drop of blood.

Resentment stirred in Nathaniel's heart.

The Dark One was as cowardly as he was evil. He could have fought like a warrior, but he had chosen to go after his enemy by manipulating the Blood Curse, instead. A descendant of Jadon was a very hard creature to defeat in battle.

Nathaniel sighed and resolutely shut his eyes.

He was fighting to keep his tears at bay, struggling wildly against the rage that was mounting in his soul. A single tear escaped, and he quickly wiped it away.

What difference did it make? What had or hadn't happened to Dalia? The bottom line was the same: She had not given birth to Shelby's sons, and when the Blood Curse had come for the unnamed one, without the sacrifice of the darker twin to stay his sentence, Shelby had died an agonizing death of retribution. Punished for a crime he had never committed.

Nathaniel set his jaw in a hard line. He refused to engage in what ifs and if onlys—speculating about the ancient curse or wondering what Shelby's life would have been if the damnable thing no longer existed. The Blood Curse did exist.

And it would always exist for his kind. As sure as the sun would always rise in the east and set in the west. Like all vampires, Nathaniel had simply learned to accept it. It was an intrinsic part of their way of life.

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Kagen reached out and placed a steadying hand on Nathaniel's shoulder, his dark brown eyes focused on the ground. "You know I share your pain, brother." His voice was a mere whisper. "Like you, I have lived long enough to know the deeper tragedy of this loss. So many proud warriors gone...and for what?" He shook his head with disgust Nathaniel swayed, feeling suddenly light-headed. "I never thought it would hit this close to home. How could this have happened, Kagen? To Shelby of all males?"

"One word," Kagen said, "Valentine." He bit down on his lower lip, and his hand began to tremble. "But we cannot shed such tears, my brother. Remember, we must still guard our emotions."

Nathaniel knew his twin was right.

The force of such overwhelming grief spilling onto the earth from an ancient vampire could easily call forth an earthquake or command a flash flood. As it already stood, too many humans were going to die as a result of Shelby's passing—as a byproduct of the earth's grief.

Nathaniel nodded—his heart turning as cold and impassible as the stone slab his youngest brother now rested upon. He fisted his hands at his sides. Though he wanted to scream at the heavens, rage at the earth, weep until there were no tears left to cry, he knew he could not. His duty would not allow it.

His honor would not abide it.

Betraying no emotion whatsoever, he silently cursed his ancestors in the ancient tongue, daring them to retaliate—

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urging them to try and stake their claim on him before he could seek his vengeance for Shelby's death.

And he intended to seek his vengeance.

Kagen read Nathaniel's mind effortlessly. "You may not have a chance to impose your retribution, warrior. Not if Marquis gets to the Dark One first."

Nathaniel glanced at his twin, noticing the subtle red embers glowing deep in the centers of his eyes. Kagen's own anger was scarcely contained.

"That might be true, brother, but if Marquis feels so strongly, then why isn't he here?"

"Nathaniel—"

"Do not excuse him, Kagen!"

Kagen shook his head. "I wasn't going to, brother."

Nathaniel sighed. "I know exactly what you were going to say, but that doesn't mean I understand...." His voice trailed off. "Nachari's absence? Sure. He couldn't possibly make it home in time, and Shelby's journey couldn't wait. But Marquis? He sits at home embracing the torment in his soul even as the shadows grow deeper within him. It isn't healthy.

He needs to say good-bye."

Kagen frowned, his dark eyes filled with shared understanding. "You know he could not attend, Nathaniel.

What did you expect him to do?" His voice held no hint of judgment. "The sky itself would have rained down blood and fire had Marquis been forced to place this blessed one in the ground. Marquis is too old. Too powerful. Too angry. I know he's always been the strong one, but I fear this may be too much...even for him."

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Nathaniel rubbed his temples in slow, methodical circles, trying to ease some of his tension. Marquis was, indeed, having great difficulty with Shelby's death. "Has he spoken to you?"

"Briefly."

"And?"

"And he blames himself, Nathaniel. What do you think?"

Nathaniel shook his head. He knew that it was more than the injustice of the Blood Curse that tormented their ancient sibling, now fifteen-hundred years old: Marquis was consumed with guilt over the way Shelby had died.

Kagen crossed his arms in front of him. "Marquis believes that the curse should have claimed him first. The Blood should have demanded a son from him long before it demanded one from Shelby. But it's the fact that Valentine got to Dalia—" He cut off his words the moment his voice began to quiver.

Nathaniel hissed beneath his breath. "None of us saw it coming."

"True." Kagen shifted uncomfortably. "But Marquis is the eldest, which makes him the sworn protector of our family. In his mind, he was responsible for the safety of his less powerful brother. As a male of honor, he should have seen to the safety of the human woman."

"It wasn't his mistake," Nathaniel insisted, knowing he felt guilty himself. "We all let Shelby down."

Kagen rubbed his eyes; he looked weary. "I know that.

And Nachari knows that. But Marquis—"

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"Will never forgive himself," Nathaniel supplied. He wiped his brow and shrugged his shoulders as if he could somehow lessen the weight of his grief with a gesture.

Kagen looked off into the distance. "Marquis will have to make his own peace with what happened in time."

Nathaniel hung his head. "Will you, Kagen? Will I?"

A long moment of silence passed between them before Kagen spoke again. "At any rate, Marquis is far too stubborn to take counsel from either of us. Perhaps Napolean can speak with him when things settle down...make him see that we are all equally to blame."

Maybe, Nathaniel thought. "He has to know that his leadership is still needed."

Kagen nodded. "More now than ever..." He cleared his throat. "Nachari should arrive tomorrow evening. Being Shelby's twin, he was even closer to him than the rest of us.

He is definitely going to need Marquis's support."

Nathaniel agreed, although he couldn't imagine anything that would ease Nachari's pain. "Perhaps they can console each other...now that they each walk the world as only one."

The slip was inexcusable.

Nathaniel immediately averted his eyes and bowed his head in a slight nod of regret: a warrior's apology.

It was rare for a vampire to refer to the missing twin of the blood sacrifice. It was simply understood that in every family, there would always be an odd number of sons—an eldest brother who walked alone, the first born of light whose twin of darkness had been sacrificed at birth. It was seen as rude to 17

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mention the one who had never been named. Impolite to even acknowledge his existence.

Kagen overlooked Nathaniel's error. "This won't be easy for either of them. I do not look forward to all the dark days ahead of us."

"Nor do I."

Nathaniel stood up then and drew in a long, deep breath.

"It is time," he whispered.

Kagen rose to his feet and slowly nodded.

With a wave of his hand, Nathaniel gradually began to lower the heavy stone slab deep into the earth, the body of his beloved brother resting silently upon it—uncovered, so that the earth would embrace him.

Nathaniel spoke softly in the ancient language of their ancestors, offering a prayer for peace—a final benediction—

and then he requested safe journey to the Valley of Spirit and Light, making an impassioned plea to the Spirit of Jadon himself, to grant Shelby absolution for his failure to relinquish a son.

Nathaniel watched helplessly as his cherished little brother descended deep into the ground, never to rise again. Despite his best efforts, two burning tears escaped his eyes—each one instantly transformed into a single heart-shaped diamond: the color, crimson red.

"Travel well, my brother. Go in peace."

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Two

Jocelyn lifted the canteen from the weighty, navy blue backpack and took a long drink of water. She checked her compass once again, glancing furtively at the sky to determine the position of the sun. She was making great time. There was plenty of daylight left, more than enough to reach the cave before sunset. Placing the canteen back in the pack, she adjusted the weight evenly on her shoulders, her mind continuing to analyze information as she headed deeper into the forest.

Jocelyn knew that she didn't have permission to move on the tip her informant had given her. She wasn't supposed to be there. And if anything went wrong, she was on her own.

But she also knew that it couldn't wait. Human trafficking.

Ritualistic killings. The entire case was so bizarre.

As an agent of ICE, a highly specialized department within homeland security, Jocelyn Levi had been investigating one particularly shocking human-trafficking ring for months.

Unlike more typical rings that forced young women into sexual slavery or sold children into forced labor, these victims were being taken for much darker purposes—to be used as sacrifices in ritualistic killings.

But by whom?

Jocelyn shook her head, carelessly tucking a handful of thick brown hair behind her ear. Over the last two months, her unit had discovered three freshly discarded bodies, each one showing signs of the same hideous brutality. The sight of 19

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the mutilated corpses had been abominable, but they were close to finding the head of the ring, or at least finding the man who was selling the women. Still, they had no idea who was doing the actual killings: what kind of cult could be behind such gruesome acts of evil. They had never managed to uncover an actual crime scene.

Jocelyn sighed, hoping that today would be a major breakthrough. If the information her source had given her about the cave was correct, then she was about to make a huge discovery.

Her informant had assured her that she was not walking into a danger zone, that the site he had told her about was no longer being used by the ring. As always, they changed locations frequently, moving around to avoid detection by the authorities. Unfortunately, this meant that there would be no fresh forensic evidence, but the information Jocelyn hoped to uncover was of a different kind anyway.

Jocelyn slowed her pace as a series of tall, reddish-rock formations appeared in the distance, strangely shimmering into view like a desert mirage on a hot day. An eerie chill swept through her body, raising the hair on her arms, and a deep sense of foreboding settled into her stomach. She shivered and stared ahead. There was something about the peculiar canyons that shook her to her very core.

Although most people would have turned back, most people would not have been there in the first place.

Jocelyn was not most people.

Solving difficult crimes was her life. Stopping the really, really bad guys. And she was very good at it. She had always 20

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had a sixth sense, an uncanny ability to stay one step ahead of the criminal mind. It wasn't like she was psychic or anything. She just had a way of feeling things. Walking into a crime scene and knowing. As if the very essence of the place whispered secrets to her of the people who had been there.

Now, after months of dead ends, she finally had a reliable lead; and she had no intention of letting the information go to waste.

Jocelyn drew in a deep breath of crisp mountain air, her lungs working overtime to adjust to the altitude of the Eastern Rocky Mountains. The beautiful expansive territory ran along the Front Range of North America, full of hidden canyons, dense forests, and towering, majestic peaks; under different circumstances, it might have been an idyllic place to vacation. Her sense of dread grew stronger with every step she took, so powerful that it almost felt as if there were an invisible hand holding her back, something warning her away.

She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind as she pushed forward against the invisible barrier.

She had come way too far to turn back now.

The faces of the victims—their broken and tortured bodies—continued to replay in her mind like a gruesome, private slide-show, reminding her of just how much was at stake.

Picking up the pace, Jocelyn headed deeper into the canyon.

* * * *

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The oddly shaped, underground cavity, at the end of a series of narrow limestone tunnels, was exactly where Jocelyn's informant had said it would be: beneath a thin arced entrance at the back of the cliffs, just beyond a waterfall.

Jocelyn wondered how something so beautiful could be used for something so evil.

It was well after sunset when she reached the cavern.

She had slowly worked her way through a long labyrinth of passageways, going deeper into the earth with every step, until she had finally emerged in a gigantic chamber with enormous cathedral ceilings and jutting white columns. The scattered limestone pillars were erected haphazardly, as if a divine hand had simply tossed them about, and there was a small pond of stagnant water toward the back of the chamber, just beneath a series of low ledges. The cave itself was eerily dark, humid, and chilly. The air was musty and damp.

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