New Blood (The Blood Saga Book 2)

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work is legally owned in full by author Jacquelynn Gagne

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ISBN-13:
978-1523487905

ISBN-10: 1523487909

Published by
Unhindered Arts

Written by
Jacquelynn Gagne

Edited  &
formatted by Jacquelynn Gagne

Blood Splatter
art provided by Falln Brushes

All other
illustrations, artwork, and cover layout and design created by Jacquelynn Gagne

Photography
&Artistic Illustrations by Jacquelynn Gagne of Unhindered Arts

First edition
material

© 2016 Jacquelynn
Gagne

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reserved.

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Because I could not stop for Death --He kindly
stopped for me --The Carriage held but just Ourselves --And Immortality.

Emily Dickinson

“Easy, Jezie. Don’t scare her off
too quickly now.” Damien’s lips twisted up into a smirk, but the gesture was
off. His voice was deep and husky, not the smooth, rich baritone that I had
grown accustomed to hearing. One arm draped over my shoulders, his other braced
the doorframe. It wasn’t quite as casual as he tried for. Worry flashed in
Jezabell’s eyes but she hid it quickly as she stepped back from us.

Damien had drank my blood in order
to save my life, in order to turn me into a Vampire.

At the time, my blood was tainted
with bloodstone and Dragon venom. Both are quite toxic and incredibly painful.
He’d known this, and yet poisoned himself willingly. Why? He’d bound himself to
do so in a blood promise. That- and he loved me.

The bloodstone had been given to me
by a Descendant, a psychic friend from my former life as a mortal. All of this in
order to heal my many injuries at the time. This is the same former
friend/Descendant who bound Damien in the blood promise.

Descendants are like witches, only they’re
real. They’re power is far greater than one would realize.

The bloodstone also helped in
severely weakening three Vampire Crossbreeds that were trying to disembowel me.
Though however weak they were, they still succeeded in killing me.

I suppose it is lucky for me that
Damien had forced me to drink enough of his blood that it managed to bring me
back. The downside was that his consequences, as well as the pain of my guilt,
were dire.

Of course, he was doing his best to
hide it. Though neither I nor Jezabell were blind enough to miss that he was in
a great amount of pain. He was fighting death after all.

Jezabell is a part of Damien’s
family if you will. Another Vampire who has not only known him far longer than
I have, but has lived with him in what they call their House for just a few
centuries or so. She’s not the only member of this House either, of course. A
House is the Vampire equivalent of a Coven for Descendants or a Pack for
Shifters.

Damien claims two sisters and two
brothers in total within their House. He brought me here after my human death
for a world of reasons that I could only guess at.

Worry flashed in her eyes as she
looked over Damien before turning her attentions back to me. “Yes, of course. I’m
so very sorry.” The weight of her words matched the suspecting glint in her
eyes as her gaze swept past me. “Welcome to our home, Lianna. You must be so
overwhelmed with it all. Won’t you please come in?” Jezabell turned as she
spoke, skipping ahead of us with her gazelle like grace. Damien kept his arm
draped over my shoulders as we walked to the great room.

Their home was practically a
palace. Impossibly high ceilings spread up into breath taking slopes, and
arches. The embellished molding was utterly spectacular as it seeped from
corners, and high beams like lavish frosting on a cake.

A massive chandelier dangled down
from the ceiling in glorious black iron. Fully engorged with Austrian crystals,
it glittered in the rays of the sun that brightly lit the room. I had never
seen anything like it before.

Almost everything fell between
shades of pure white and cool black. The floor of the foyer inlaid with ebony
marble matched the columns. From the base of each gleaming black column
sprawled hand carved molding that curved elegantly like great billowing clouds
of smoke. Tendrils enwrapped and danced around the bases in a rapturous,
winsome manner.

The walls were a perfect
contrasting pearl white. To the left was a magnificent black marble staircase
sweeping along the wall with utter grandeur in an upward spiral to higher
levels. None to my surprise, the rails, as well the backboards separating each
step were carved in magnificent patterns of foliage. Gifted with incredible new
sight I could take in every detail in nanoseconds. The staircase was so large
that it could have occupied its own zip code. The entire piece seemed to be
exquisitely crafted of pure black marble.

Damn. I bet my old loft would fit
in one of their closets.
Grinning, Damien leaned close
whispering, “Only Jezabell’s.” To hide the curl of my lips, my hand covered my
mouth.

Jezabell swept us along into the
main living area. Everything was so splendid it made me feel completely out of
place.

The marble floor began to blend
with hardwood in intricate swirling patterns in ways I had never seen before.
Almost puzzle like. The wood was nearly seamless, spreading to take over the
remaining of the first floor in rich Brazilian rosewood.

A massive area rug covered the
floor of the open living room just under the sitting area. I thought it may
have been fur for as lush and snow white as it was. Somehow, I doubted Vampires
believed much in animal rights. Not that I had ever been a real tree hugger or
anything. My brows lift in thought of that as I looked over the rest of the
room. The fireplace was big enough for me to stand in. I could smell the ash
though it had been cleaned recently.

Substantial pieces of furniture, as
if made for much larger people, filled the living room. The couch was almost
twice the width of a normal sofa, over stuffed and covered in raw white silk.
As well a love seat and single large sofa chair were designed to match.

It was all incredibly modern, but
somehow fit for royalty. Two massive white wing back chairs were trimmed to
match the Brazilian rosewood with fabric of the same hand woven raw silk topped
off the scene of finery. It was overwhelming. To the core of my being I felt
like I didn’t belong here. My knee twitched, aching to run from this room and
everything in it. Well, all but one.

Damien sat down in the largest
chair and pulled me down into his lap. There was immense relief in his eyes as
he sunk back into the plush furniture. It pained me to know I had caused it, despite
that he had denied it so adamantly.

His eyes flickered to mine with brief
acknowledgement of my thoughts. He glowered for a millisecond before turning
his eyes away from me.
Mind readers
. My eyes rolled.

Damien is a mind reader. Yes, it is
as embarrassing for me as one would imagine, but after a little while, you just
get used to having no private thoughts. Sometimes it comes in handy though, I
admit.

The only saving grace was that my
mind was not completely open to his. Only my strong emotions and clear precise
thoughts were totally accessible to him. I’ve carried complete conversations
with him and never said a word myself.

Many Vampires have some sort of
extra ability according to Damien. I hadn’t seemed to have developed a gift
yet, but I was less than two days into immortality.

Not all Vampires are mind readers
in the same aspect that Damien is. His curse runs bone deep. He can’t shut it
off. Most Vampires have to think a thought very clearly or directly to another
Vampire in order for that thought to be picked up. Though in Damien’s case, he
seemed to hear
almost
everything from
almost
everyone.

It hurt to have him upset with me,
even if he was only bothered by my guilt.

One week ago I was human. Damien
had walked with me along the docks of Burlington Vermont. We kissed. He took me
home and discovered the extent of my abnormalities. A spirit had haunted my
dreams since I’d been a child. I shared her pain both physically, and mentally.
I’m being very literal.

Not long after, I thought I had
gone crazy and went to see a Descendant. My friend’s mother to be precise. More
or less she told me that I was insane. That night, I was attacked by a Crossbreed
named Beckett, who happens to be dead now. Crossbreeds are born supernatural
creatures that have been bitten, and turned into Vampires. A deadly combination
no matter the born nature. Their sanity tends to diminish rapidly with the
change.

The day after that, my oldest
friend became possessed and attempted to rape, and murder me. I then abandoned
my entire life to be with Damien. I didn’t know it would be literally. Before
the next sunrise, I was murdered. Which leaves me here, a true living dead
Vampire.

My chest felt heavy as if it were
beginning to burn slowly. This slow burning pain caused my entire body to
tense. I assumed this was from stress. My emotions were potent. More or less, I
was doing everything I could to ignore the irritation, and mostly wishing I
could hide behind Damien rather than be set atop him on display.

Jezabell’s eyes narrowed as she
looked me over and then set hard onto Damien. “What am I going to do with you
two? She’s obviously starving. Didn’t you think to feed her?” she scorned him. “And
look at yourself, Damien. I’ve never seen you look-”

“I’m fine, Jezabell. Leave it alone.
And she fed a few hours ago.” Damien’s eyes narrowed inquisitively on me as I
curled into a ball in his lap trying to disappear in on myself. His voice was
hard and cold as he’d spoken to Jezabell. Or rather as he had cut her off.

Jezabell turned her head, giving a
knowing look to someone who must have been another Vampire. I’d not noticed her
before. She’d been standing in a darkened doorway on the other end of the room
so still she could have been a statue.

To me she looked like an angel.
Such a thing wouldn’t have surprised me at this point.

Her hair was long down her back and
seemed made of the most pure blonde silk, highlighted with glistening white
rays of the sun. She must have been young when she turned. Sixteen at best,
maybe even younger still. The recognition of this led me to wonder how someone
so young was brought into this life. I shuddered thinking about how gruesome it
could have been if at all like my own. Worst of all, she looked more sickeningly
perfect than any of them.

Skin tinted like soft ivory with
the slightest warm glow. Brown eyes reflected every color of gold, copper,
amber and bronze. She had perfect heart shaped lips blended of soft pink and
light peach.

With a light nod of her head she
disappeared. I stayed quiet of course, uncertain how to respond to anything now.
After a few moments, the young angel returned to the room carrying a silver
tray with large wine glasses. Each filled with a dark crimson liquid.

The smell made my head spin. Instantly
I knew what the red liquid was. Biting down on my lip, I shut my eyes. Damien
spoke to the others with a discontent sigh, “Her appetite is stronger than I
expected.”

“I can imagine. The poor dear,”
Jezabell, aka pixie pire spoke.

“Damien, she’s positively lovely.
You did very well. We have all been so worried. Again, I wish I could have been
of more… Well, you know,” the angel’s voice so filled with regret and still so
melodic it could make cherubs weep. I forced my eyes open to get a better look
at the younger girl.

Kneeling by my side she held up the
glass for me. Her hand guided mine to the stem as I trembled from the thirst.

Both women were so beautiful that
it stunned me. How they could possibly know anything of the same darkness that
was threatening to overcome me seemed impossible. How could creatures so lovely
possibly have any darkness what so ever within?

My fingers wrapped around the glass
while trying to focus on being careful. It seemed so fragile that I had a
feeling the glass may shatter at any second if I was not extra cautious.

The glass hit my lips and the taste
was just as over whelming as it had been in the Jeep. Drinking it down too
eagerly, I couldn’t keep myself from sucking down every drop in a mere second. The
glass cracked from the lip down nearly an inch.

Hearing Jezabell’s voice tainted
with laughter brought me back to attention, “Drink, my dear, it’s all right.
You have nothing to hide here. We all understand.”

The beautiful angel took the glass,
and handed me another with a soft bit of laughter of her own. My fingers trembled
still. Both pixie and the angel laughed together. Their voices were as soft as
feathers falling. It made me want to die.
Oops, I already did
. Damien
heard my thoughts and laughed hard once for his own bitter amusement. The
roughness of it brought me out of the heady dream threatening to pull me away.
It must have been the blood. Hiding my face in my other hand, I let out a deep
sigh.