Blood Enchanted (Blood Enchanted, Book 1): A Vampire Hunter Paranormal Romance Series (9 page)

“Who are you?” I yelled at the hazy image of the vampire.

It snarled and snapped elongated fangs wildly. Unable to reach me. Unable to breach the gap the Dream Walk provided. I couldn’t keep this up much longer, but staking him would mean his death. His final death. I wouldn’t be able to tailor my strike effectively. This depleted of strength, this close to collapsing, I would have only one hope of survival.

Kill or be killed.

But a vampire controlling the ghouls. This was not something to be taken lightly. The ghouls in Auckland were under protection of the Master of the City. Something my father had established when
he
had been the Master of the City… way back then.

Auckland might house the
Iunctio
now, but it still had a Master of the City like any other vampire metropolis.

Jett would not appreciate a ghoul being influenced. Not that Frank had appeared completely controlled; he’d still managed to warn me, in his own warped way.

But he’d been afraid of this vampire, enough to leave me to my fate.

Not much scared a ghoul like Frank. I had to find out what I could before I took this vampire’s life.

“Last chance,” I growled between clenched teeth. “Who the fuck are you?”

Red eyes stared at me. No sentience behind them at all. No recognition of who or what I was. Just the twitch of his nose to let me know he was still smelling my blood where he had spilled it. The scratch had already healed. The blood no longer fresh.

Tell that to the demonic vampire.

“Goddess damn it!” I muttered, sheathing my sword - taking two efforts to achieve it - and reaching for a stake at my side.

I stepped forward, the Dream Walk realm the vampire existed in pressing against me. I could cross it. But then he would be able to reach for me, and getting back after I staked him required my mother.

I can send them there, I can accompany them, I just can’t do any of it by myself.

“Who are you, vampire?” I asked, layering the question in more precious Light. It damn near killed me.

The vampire snarled.

Then leaped.

And as I raised my stake, I let the Dream Walk dissolve around it.

Sounds became indistinct. The slavering of the vampire seemed too loud. And yet I couldn’t hear the snapping of its teeth millimetres away from my cheek. Drool and blood - my blood, I hazily realised - dripped off two sharp fangs. It licked its lips, raised its head to the empty room, and howled.

Taniwhas howl. Not vampires.

A shudder raced through me. The stake met its chest.

And as its jaw unhinged and wrapped around my throat, I felt the Darkness leave him.

The weight of a dead body fell against me, and then a split second later turned to dust.

I lay there, panting and choking on vampire residue, feeling the partial fang marks in my neck start to itch as they healed. Sweat coated my skin, the cold, clammy kind that leaves you shivering. A sickness invaded my body, forcing shattered breaths from deep down inside. The need to vomit overwhelmed me. The ribbons began to unfurl, slowly. Still too tangled to completely let go of the fear and dread they’d brought this time.

Some talent. It told me the obvious. Dark vampire equals fight or flight.

I’m a Nosferatin. I don’t run.

I made a sound as I rolled over onto my stomach, a blood stained stake in one hand, the other fisted as I tried to rise. My body gave out and I face planted.

“Get up,” I growled to myself. “Get up, now!”

Ghouls could be returning. My mother would be here any second. That vampire was not alone.

All breath left me. I had no idea where that thought had come from, but the ribbons agreed.

That was not the last demonic vampire I’d be facing.

“Get up,” I growled, pulling myself to my feet.

I swayed. The room spun. Lights from the still playing TV flashed before my eyes.

I took a step toward the front door, and then thought better of it. Mama would storm through there.

I turned around, lost my balance and fell face first into a broad chest.

“If you wish to avoid your mother,” Ediz said calmly. “Then best you move now, Nosferatin.”

Relief washed through me.
Not my mother. Not my mother.
So that might be why I let him help me, wrap a strong shifter arm around my waist and guide me through the back doors of the bar.

“How’s your master?” I asked, my words slurring.

Strangely the ribbons didn’t seem to mind, even though I
knew
I should have been alarmed. Spots of bright light and dark dots flickered before my eyes. Not good.

Ediz growled, the noise reverberating around the small hallway we were in and then tapering off to a hiss at the end.

I smiled. Gotta get your kicks where you can.

And then my mother said, from just behind us, “Take one step further with my daughter… and I
will
kill you.”

Ah, Goddess damn it.

“
W
hat the hell
were you thinking?” my mother hissed at me, her eyes target locked on the shifter.

Ediz leaned back against the far wall of the Guts & Glory sports bar, fishing a toothpick out of his pocket and cleaning between his teeth as though bored. His canines were long. The toothpick almost disappeared behind them.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. My head hurt. My body hurt. My fucking little pinkie hurt. I was just one big ball of hurt.

And I was tired.

Facing off against my mother was a challenge at the best of times; she was one switched on lady. But when she was pissed at me, it required a certain level of deviousness I simply did not possess right at this minute.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

“Luc’s missing.” Somehow it felt better sharing it.

My eyes locked on those of Ediz’s. I could drop him in it. I could tell my mother that he was connected to the vampire who held my brother, her son. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the Prophesied. I could do it. I
should
do it.

He held my gaze and waited patiently for me to make up my mind.

“We know,” my mother said softly. It didn’t surprise me. Not really. How could they not have known? Papa was the Champion and Alain was his spy master.

Alain who had agreed to join with me because of my dad.

Alain who had been trying to locate Luc as long as I had.

They probably knew about Hakan Bahar, as well.

“What I want to know,” my mother continued, “is why you’re staking rogue vampires in a ghoul bar and the ghouls have fled.”

Cutting right to the chase, that’s my mother.

“There was something wrong with that vampire,” I admitted, feeling like a little girl again, replaying the many, many, many times I’d had to justify my actions to my mother inside my head.

She’d taken my training seriously. Luc had been Papa’s to guide. I had been Mama’s. Mama could be a tough teacher when she tried.

My mother flicked concerned eyes to my face and then returned her attention to the shifter. Now was not the time to have heart to hearts about
feelings
. I was sure she was watching me for clues as to what talents I’d manifested. Any statement I made now was far from simple in her eyes.

I heaved another sigh.

“And this shifter?” Mama enquired.

I looked at Ediz again; he’d stopped cleaning his teeth and sat quietly. Almost as though he’d let me drop him in it without offering any opposition at all. I wondered briefly why he was even here. I wondered why Hakan had sent him.

“He was helping me.” The words were out before I could second guess them. Those ribbons now twisting in an anticipatory form of delight. Thoughts of Hakan Bahar were messing with my mojo.

“OK,” Mama said with a nod, accepting my explanation. The relief I felt was astounding. “Thank you for your assistance,” she said, addressing Ediz. “You may go.” Dismissal from an
Iunctio
councillor was not something you could argue with.

Ediz bowed, did that fancy hand flourish thing again, and then started for the front door. He stopped midway, his green eyes landing on me. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a cloth wrapped object, and held it out in the palm of his hand.

I reached forward, my eyes on his impassive face, and lifted it up. A silver tip flashed in the dim light. My stake. The one I had used to incapacitate Hakan.

The air rushed out of me and those blasted twisted ribbons twirled and danced inside. Half excited. Half appalled. And a whole lot heartbroken. None of it made any sense.

The door swung shut behind the shifter and I just stood there staring at the stake in my hand.

“Yours?” Mama asked. She knew damn well it was. She was giving me space to admit it. I was not the easiest person to get information out of. She’d had to adopt a cunning interrogation style.

I nodded my head slowly.

“And the shifter had it, why?”

My eyes lifted to her face, taking in the worry and concern there. The shadows beneath her dark eyes. She always worried about me. She never stopped. She’d made damn sure I could look after myself, had given me the backing I needed to get out there on my own in the big wide world, and silently bit all her nails to the quick while she watched from the sidelines to see if I’d survive.

Ours was not a safe world to reside in.

But I couldn’t talk about this. Not with her. Not with anyone. Hakan Bahar left me feeling wrong, somehow.

And also left me feeling so very right.

I cleared my throat and pocketed my stake. Then cleaned my hands off on my trousers. Vampire dust floated up on the air all around me. I must have looked a fucking sight.

“I need a shower,” I announced. My mother just smiled.

She knew. She knew me too well. Part of that was because I was just like her. Part of that was simply because I was her child.

“Your father wants a word,” she advised, taking a look around the bar and moving towards the door. I opened my mouth to say Goddess alone knows what, and Mama beat me to it. “I’ll cover for you, Ellie. But he’s not a patient man. Sooner or later he’s going to track you down.”

I let a relieved breath of air out and then sucked it back in again at the realisation of her words.
He
would track me down. Not Alain. Not one of his vampires.
Him
.

“How long have I got?” I asked on a dry swallow.

“Twenty-four hours,” she replied, opening the front door of the bar. “And Ellie?” She looked over her shoulder at me, long dark hair hanging straight down her back, form fitting dress hugging an immaculate figure. My mother was a babe. It made me smile.

She smiled back, and then let the grin turn into a small frown.

“That shifter is dangerous.” I blinked. “Something’s not right there.”

“What did you
see
?” My mother could
see
more of vampires than shifters, but occasionally she could
see
enough to work them out.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Just a feeling.” Mama’s feelings were more often than not sound. “He reminds me of something,” she murmured. Then shook her head and walked out the door.

My mother is only fifty years old. In the vampire world that is young. But she knows more about my father’s history than anyone. Even Alain, I’d hazard a guess. However, she’s never been to Romania. Never been where Papa spent a good portion of his first years as a vampire. Whatever Ediz reminded my mother of, it wasn’t the invasion of Wallachia by the Ottoman Empire.

But if not that, then what?

I tilted my head up and stared at the ceiling, letting the aches and pains sluice off my body and seep into the night. I was exhausted, operating well below par. Hungry and missing my brother. Worry gnawed a great big pit in my stomach, but despite that, I was
sure
Hakan would not harm him.

Those fucking twisting ribbons.

I punched out a breath of air into the silent room and walked through the door.

Newmarket was quiet. Every supernatural within a mile had tucked tail and run. Either because the Prophesied had been here. Or because of that vampire. I took a deep breath in through my nose, and contemplated the few options available to me.

There was no sign of Ediz. And I couldn’t track worth my life. But I knew who could.

I pulled my cellphone out and thumbed through the contacts, then connecting the call, lifted it to my ear. There was a chance she was in
Álfheimr
. And cell coverage didn’t quite reach Faerie. But Georgia answered on the second ring.

“El, long time no hear,” she purred down the line.

Georgia was part vampire. A bit like me. Actually, a hell of a lot like me. But whereas I was born of a Nosferatu and Nosferatin coupling. She’d been turned by a vampire, and then changed into a vampire hunter by Nut. The girl was way more fucked up than me.

“I need your help,” I admitted, ignoring the cessation of breathing down the line. “Are you around?”

“Where are you?”

“Newmarket.”

“I’ll be right…” I spun where I was standing and met the slightly red glowing eyes of my
Nothus
friend. “There,” she finished with a wicked smile.

Of course she would be nearby; she would have felt the Pull too.

“You’re a fucking freak of nature,” I said calmly, pocketing my phone.

“And proud of it,” she replied, doing the same with her own. It hadn’t always been that way, so I’ve been told. Georgia is close to my mother’s age, but looks in her late twenties. Her transition to functioning dhampir had taken some time. “Why am I here?” she asked casually, as if I called for her help all the time.

“Shifter, unknown species, origin possibly eastern European.”

“Oh, you really do have all the fun.” She sniffed the air, like I’d done. But whereas I could only smell an intricate layering of meaningless scents, Georgia could smell so much more. “Got him,” she announced, then flicked sharp eyes down to me. “Can you keep up?”

I wondered what emotions of mine she was scenting. Georgia was an empath, from one whiff she’d be able to tell exactly what I was feeling.

“I’m tired not incompetent,” I growled.

“There’s the spirit,” she chirped. Georgia chirping was a scary sight.

She took off at vampire speed, platinum blonde hair streaking out behind her. I kept pace, watching as the shadows wrapped around her, moulding to her body, stroking down her arms, encasing her thighs. Red softly glowed from her eyes, creating hazy laser light-like flashes through the darkness. From the corner of my eye I saw her Dark Shadow within turn its blank features towards me. A creepy sensation of being watched by a malevolent being chased down my spine.

I guessed that’s why I liked her. Being what she was couldn’t be easy. We had a lot in common.

“He’s pissed,” she said, sniffing the air like a hound. “And confused. No,” she corrected, “not confused.” She wrinkled her nose, cocked her head to the side, and smiled. “He’s mystified.” Her smile broadened. Then she turned her gaze to me and winked. “You learn something new every day,” she said, beaming.

“What, you hadn’t come across ‘mystified’ before?” I demanded, feeling the pace starting to get to me. I wouldn’t let her see it. I wouldn’t let anyone see it.

“Oh, ‘mystified’ I’ve scented. But ‘mystified’ mixed with such an intriguing and complex layering of emotions. Mmmm,” she purred in that vampire way she had, that fooled so many into thinking that’s all she really was, “tasty.”

“Nice,” I drawled. “When you stop slavering over your shifter starter course, tell me something I can work with.”

“Loyalty. Rage. Determination. Such fine strength filled emotions. Mystified. Worried. Fearful.” She shook her head, her pace slowing. “Such a conflict rising inside him. He’d follow his master anywhere, but he’s concerned about the path that he’s taking.”

She came to a stop in the middle of Parnell. Street lights flickered. The creak of a broken gate swinging on rusted hinges sounded out in the unnaturally still air. Stars attempted to peek out from behind roiling clouds. The smell of charred wood and smoke met my nose, delicately. Overlaid with the stench of unclean bodies and… blood.

I breathed though my mouth for a second, allowing my body to adjust.

“Who is his master?” Georgia asked.

“Can you scent him?” I replied, my hands already resting on my stakes.

Georgia’s shadows swirled around us, wrapping around me now as much as her. She was hiding us from sight, but there were other ways to detect if someone was near.

“I have not met the master’s scent before,” Georgia reminded me.

“Eastern European, level one
Sanguis Vitam
vampire, tasted my blood within the past twenty-four hours.”

She did stop breathing completely then. Without sucking in another breath of air, she murmured, “What have you got yourself into, little Nosferatin.”

“Hey! You’re half Nosferatin too,” I pointed out.

“Not my better half,” she admitted with a shrug. Georgia had a love-hate relationship with herself. Sometimes the vampire-within won. Sometimes Nut did.

I was guessing the Dark Shadow was close to the surface right now. I resisted the urge to look for it. I was certain it was still watching me too closely for my liking.

Silence stretched between us and then she made a show of sucking in air, attempting to be partially human, and sighed.

“He is here,” she announced.

“Does he know we are?”

“Of course not.”

“Is he…?” I hesitated. Georgia was a good friend, and her relationship with my parents was strained; she wouldn’t tattle. But she was half vampire and vampires’ number one motto is
survive at all costs
. If she could use me to survive she would.

“Is he what, El?”

I didn’t look at her, but kept my eyes on the dark shape of the building she’d led us to.

“Is he at full strength?” I said, deciding
that
wording was better than what I’d been about to ask. No one could accuse me of feeling
anything
for Hakan with those words. Simply ascertaining what threat he posed. That’s all.

Georgia started chuckling. “Well, well,” she crowed softly. “Oh, how the mighty fall.”

I raised an imperious eyebrow at her.

She raised her own eyebrow right back.

I guess I deserved it. I did tend to tease her about Samson and Jett.

“And fall you have, El,” she added even more softly.

I started shaking my head… and she froze. Vampire still. A preternatural statue-like stance that invades them, when they feel threatened or their vampire-within rises.

I did look then. The Dark Shadow not watching me but the house.

“He knows you’re here,” Georgia said in a low voice that was all vampire growl. It sent tendrils of fear down my spine. I wasn’t afraid of my friend, but her Dark Shadow?
That
even Georgia couldn’t fully trust.

“Is he at full strength?” I repeated, this time there was no doubting the reason why I asked.

“Yes,” she hissed, crouching down, settling into a fighting stance.