The Cursed by Blood Saga Read online

  Self-preservation kicked in, and she slammed doors shut all over her mind. There was no way she would allow some stranger to mind-rape her, even if she was the one guilty of trespassing first. She had to keep him out or risk him learning why she was in the woods tonight.

  The man exuded raw strength, and as the sarcastic timbre of the words nice try echoed through her mind, she caught a glimpse of a slow, seductive and decidedly male grin.

  Heat poured through her body, pooling between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat, and she went weak, pitching forward to land on her hands in the cold snow. She sucked in a breath and tried to sit back, but another wave of desire hit her point blank.

  Almost of their own volition, her hands trailed the length of her thighs, grazing her sex through her leather pants. The friction nearly sent her over the edge. As she struggled to maintain control of her body, she heard his deep chuckle. Whatever he was, the son of a bitch was enjoying himself at her expense.

  With a snarl of her own, Lily centered her strength and shoved against his hold, managing to slam down a wall, shutting him out.

  Drained, she slumped forward into the snow. Stupid. If she lost the creature’s threat because she allowed herself to veer off task, she’d kill the first thing that crossed her path—starting with that fly boy supe.

  On rubbery legs, she crawled forward and grabbed onto a raised tree root, pushing herself up. She brushed the snow from her pants, careful to keep her mind guarded. Steeling herself, Lily walled off any errant thoughts or emotions and sent her senses out again, this time focusing solely on the creature. She’d have time later to reconcile herself with what just happened. She had a score to settle, first.

  ***

  The sound of the ocean grew louder, and Lily smelled the salt in the air as she approached the tree line. She was angry at herself, but then again, that was nothing new. Her anger was what gave her an edge. Only now she wasn’t just angry. Whoever that supe was, he had rocked her to her core. He had taken her control, and she hated that.

  She had no idea how, but without a single touch, he managed to make her body come alive—like he was some sort of a puppet master. Well, she was nobody’s private doll. Not if she had anything to say about it.

  Amid her angry reverie, a pulse ignited without warning and flared bright in her mind. The thrum was stronger than before, closer, and filled with a snarl of incoherent threads too tangled and enraged to decipher, yet too complex to be strictly animal.

  Lily smiled. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. All previous thoughts vanished, and her mind focused entirely on her target.

  The tangle of threads spread across her mind in the same pattern of frenzied thought that had rampaged through her consciousness the night Terry was killed. The psychic footprint was an exact match, and there was no question this was the same beast that had ripped her friend to shreds.

  “I’ve got you now, you son of a bitch,” she uttered through clenched teeth, taking off through the trees.

  Her fingers coiled around the grip of her .45 as she pulled it from her waistband and unlocked the safety. The beast’s hostility spurred her racing heart, growing louder and the cadence more frantic. It was hunting.

  Lily ran with desperation, picking up speed while images of Terry’s torn and ravaged body ripped through her mind. Heat flamed at her cheeks, her mouth twisting with the memory. She’d never forget or forgive those responsible for Terry’s death.

  Herself included.

  The forest thinned the further east she tracked the creature, and now the beast was no more than a bullet away from where she stood. It had dragged a deer onto the bluff. The gentle animal was barely alive, its skittering heart like a stone on Lily’s chest as its life’s blood ran onto the cliffs.

  The wind was wild. The spray from the waves crashed against the rocks, a tempest in the background. The sound was unforgiving, as if heaven itself demanded retribution along with her.

  Stepping out from the shelter of the trees, Lily raised her .45. “This is for you, Terry!” she shouted pulling the trigger.

  The gun exploded in her hand, and the beast’s head jerked up from its bloody feast and shrieked. The bullet hit home. The creature staggered backwards, but with a roar got to its feet, and leaped vertically over the deer’s carcass.

  The beast landed a few feet from Lily in an ugly parody of a four-legged stance. It charged at her with a vengeance, swinging it claws and growling.

  It was moving fast. Too fast. She jammed the pistol into her waistband and reached behind, pulling the 9mm from her back holster. A .45 could blow a hole the size of a manhole cover in most anything, but right now she needed speed. She fired, her arms jerking with each round, but the beast kept coming. Blood pouring from its wounds, it lashed out, its mouth foaming and frothing in a rage.

  She twisted her body away, but the beast closed the distance between them in seconds. In a downward slash, its claws raked her shoulder, throat and chest, missing her jugular by less than an inch.

  It rebounded with a backhand sending her flying into the woods, vaulting after her as she smashed against a tree and slumped to the ground.

  “Lily, shoot it!” Terry screamed, materializing toward the center of the cliff.

  Terry’s voice sounded thick and slow in Lily’s ears. Her .45 was nowhere to be found, but she managed to lift the 9mm and fire. The bullet missed its mark, and the beast bounded onto her chest. Instinctively, she brought up her knees between them, struggling to keep it at bay.

  Using her thighs and her feet, she tried to sweep it off balance by pushing at its hips, but the beast was too strong. Its sharp teeth cut her hands as they fought, its drool dripping onto her open wounds as they grappled.

  Snarling, the creature bit down on Lily’s forearm. She screamed in pain and actually heard the sound of her bones crunch. The beast reared back, lifting her by her throat. Her eyes bulged and her vision dimmed, and through her haze, she saw Terry gathering form behind the creature, but how?

  Finding the .45 on the ground, Terry leveled it at the beast, but before she pulled the trigger someone leapt from the trees, grabbing the creature by its shoulders and yanking it backward. Whoever it was managed to break the beast’s hold, and Lily slumped to the ground, barely conscious.

  Still in a semisolid form, Terry rushed to Lily’s side and lifted her head onto her lap. “I’m so sorry, Lily, I wasn’t fast enough.”

  Lily tried to speak, but pain seared her crushed throat. The last thing she wanted was for Terry to feel responsible. She lifted her head, but a dizzying sensation crashed over her and she slumped back, sinking through Terry’s lap to the ground.

  Terry’s corporeal form was fading quickly. Powerless, Lily watched her friend struggle to summon whatever magic it was that made her substantial, but it was no use. Instead, Terry laid Lily gently on the ground and held her hand while she still could.

  A loud crack jerked both their heads around. The beast was locked in battle with their nameless champion. The man fought with stealth and determination and seemed to have no fear. Lily watched as he fought the creature barehanded, amazed at his strength and skill, despite her haze of pain.

  With an inhuman howl, the beast leaped onto the trunk of a nearby tree. Its claws grasped the bark like a mutant, propelling itself forward with a shriek and landing on the man’s chest.

  Seeing the beast’s mind, Lily knew it meant to severe the man’s head.

  “No!” she screamed, as the beast raised its arm, ready to strike.

  With the last of her strength, she lifted the 9mm that had fallen to her side and aimed for the beast’s head. She squeezed the trigger, sending one last bullet flying towards its target. This time it hit dead on. There was a soft crunching sound, as the back of the beast’s head exploded. It slumped to the ground, dead, its blood pooling under its matted hair. Lily slumped back. Her eyesight was fuzzy, and Terry’s voice sounded more far away than before.

  “Damn you, Lil
y! Don’t you dare give up! You hear me? Lily! Don’t you dare! I’ll get 911 here somehow,” she said crying as she watched her friend slip into unconsciousness.

  Sensing movement behind her, Terry whirled around. She held her breath half expecting to see the beast, but her shoulders slumped in relief when she saw it was the other man.

  He had managed to get himself out from under what was left of the creature and was trying to clean himself.

  “I don’t think they’ve got 911 responders this far out. In all likelihood, they’d probably dispatch the state police. But considering the circumstances, I don’t think that would be such a good idea. Don’t you agree?” he said, looking right at Terry.

  She was dumbstruck. “You can see me?”

  “Apparently…and hear you, too.” Walking over to where Lily lay, he squatted down next to her body. “Don’t look so surprised,” he said, barely sparing a glance for her stunned, yet translucent face. “Your friend here is in pretty lousy shape. We should probably get her to a hospital. Problem is, the closest one that can handle this kind of trauma is hours from here. I do have a private facility, though. It’s actually not that far.”

  Terry sputtered a little. “Yeah. I mean, thank you. That would be great.”

  “You don’t look so good yourself. Why are you so washed out?” he asked, finally looking up.

  Turning her insubstantial hands over in front of her, she shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Probably over extended ectoplasm, or the backlash from a ghostly adrenaline rush. Take your pick.” Terry’s eyes met his, and she exhaled tiredly. “Look, I don’t know what went on here, and since I feel as though I’m evaporating, I don’t have time to play twenty questions. Take care of Lily. Do what you have to but keep her alive. Okay?”

  Terry’s eyes followed his as he looked down at Lily’s crumpled form. There was no hiding his reaction when he brushed the hair away from her friend’s face. Lily was beautiful, like a porcelain doll, silent and unmoving.

  Clearing his voice, he met Terry’s anxious gaze. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” he replied, though her scent told him otherwise.

  Terry closed her eyes, her worry and frustration evident, even as she continued to fade.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Looking over at Lily, a sad smile spread across her almost invisible face. “I’m her best friend,” she said and then vanished altogether.

  Chapter Three

  Sean Leighton leaned against the polished edge of his desk, his torn and bloodstained jacket tossed diagonally across its expanse. “Is that everything, Jack?”

  His lieutenant placed a box of weapons on the conference chair to the front of the shined mahogany. “Yes, sir. It’s everything we found on the girl when you brought her in. Marcus is running a search on the information we got from her personal effects. He said he’ll be up shortly with a dossier.”

  “Good. Is she upstairs as I requested?” Without waiting for an answer, Sean picked up the preliminary medical report on the girl’s condition and frowned. His own injuries began to heal by the time he carried her in from the cliffs, but it didn’t appear as though she would be so lucky.

  “We put her on the top floor of the manor for extra security, just in case she decides to bolt. But by the look of things, she’s not going anywhere for some time. She’s in pretty lousy shape. The doc gave her heavy meds, so it’s going to be a while before we can even talk to her.”

  “Doesn’t matter. The last thing we need is panic down in the main clinic. It’s better she’s out of the way, at least until we know a little more about her.”

  The lieutenant shifted a bit on his feet. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

  “No, that’s all for now. Take everything downstairs and tag it, For Council Eyes Only, Jack…got it?”

  “Got it,” he replied.

  The lieutenant lifted the unwieldy box to his hip, transferring its weight to the edge of the desk, adjusting some of its contents. Picking up the crossbow, he turned it over in his hand before putting it into the box. He reached for the bowie knife next. “Jesus. Silver plated. Makes you wonder what the hell she was doing out there.”

  Sean didn’t comment, but his eyes were hard as he watched the implications flicker across his lieutenant's face. Any speculation about what transpired on the cliffs wasn’t good. Curiosity led to rumor, and in this case, rumor would lead to panic.

  “Just take care of that for me, will you? And tell Mitch to catch up with me at some point today. I need to brief him on what’s been happening.”

  “No problem, boss,” the younger man said lifting the box and heading out.

  Sean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It had been a long night. Sitting, he leaned back in his chair and stretched, wincing as fresh pain tore through his arms and chest. He was bloodied and sore from his fight, but there was still too much to think about, regardless of his exhaustion.

  A frown formed between his brows as he glanced at the door to his office. Too much to think about indeed. Who was this girl? She was a mystery, and one more complication in an already difficult situation.

  So much had happened in such a short amount of time, but the Alpha didn’t always have the luxury of time, especially when it involved the safety and security of the Compound. He scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand, the rough stubble under his fingers prickling his skin. He hadn’t slept in days. Then again, since this experiment in accord had begun sleep was at a premium.

  Alpha Council of the Brethren. He shoved a hand through his hair. His title, like the idea of the Compound, was a relatively new concept.

  The Compound of Weres had been met with strong opposition since its inception not long ago. The notion of different species living and working together, rather than struggling separately for limited space and resources, was a concept some had difficulty accepting—and this situation with the girl, was just one more argument the Compound’s detractors would use against them.

  Sean had been chosen to lead, and in accepting that responsibility, had been given the task of protecting them all. The Hunter’s Council had been formed to help him carry out that undertaking, with all Were groups represented in its membership. As the Alpha Council, Sean alone had been granted the ability to shift into any form. What better way to know and understand each species under his command?

  He walked into the bathroom, wincing as he peeled the ruined shirt from his back and tossed it in into the trash. He turned on the shower and stripped off the rest of his clothes. The spray jetted against his skin, and he let the hot water cascade over his sore body. Blood and dirt pooled at his feet, and he watched it swirl toward the drain, his guilt and pain swirling along with it. His brother was dead—or at least whatever was left of him. It was over—until he needed to hunt one of his own…again.

  Sean’s thoughts drifted to the girl. Verifying her identity was high on his list of priorities, and not just for obvious reasons. Was she the same one he’d caught trespassing in his head right before he got to the cliffs? It was too close to be just coincidence.

  No one had ever been strong enough telepathically to shut him down, especially not when he had them in a mind-lock. Certainly not a woman. If they were one and the same, then he didn’t quite know what to make of it—and the information he gleaned from her mind just added to his reservations. She was a killer.

  If the memories he saw were real, then he had more to worry about than just rabid Weres gone rogue. But humans as a species were prone to self-delusion. What intrigued him the most were the contradictions he’d read in her mind. How could a woman so resolute in purpose, carry such guilt and shame? It was clear she killed in cold blood. So why had she left herself prone to his seduction tactics? A hardened killer would have simply ignored the attempt. Either that or tried to turn the tables. She did neither.

  Sean turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. After drying off he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and slipped a shirt over his head just as Ma
rcus knocked on the door.

  “Sean, I’ve got as much intel on the girl as I could find in a quick and dirty search,” he said handing him the file. “She’s a pretty well-known psychic investigator. Been successful in solving cold cases for the New York City Police Department.”

  Sean’s fingers closed over the basic beige manila folder. “Find anything that might give you a clue as to what she was up to last night?” he asked, sitting at his desk before opening the file.

  “According to my sources she was up this way about two weeks ago working on a routine haunting outside of Ogunquit. There was an accident, and her partner was killed. A woman by the name of Terry Hess. Medical Examiner has the cause of death as animal attack.”

  Sean’s head jerked up, and the two men looked at each other. Glancing at the photo stapled to the inside of the file, Sean just frowned. It all made sense now. The weapons, the shade. He exhaled. It looked as if the girl in his head and the injured girl upstairs were unquestionably one in the same. However, what worried him most was he wasn’t the only one hunting last night.

  Chapter Four

  Lily opened her eyes. Everything hurt, even her hair. She tried to move but winced as every muscle screamed in protest. She had no idea where she was. The room was dim and unfamiliar, but she was in no condition to complain.

  “Terry?” she croaked, surprised at the hoarse sound of her own voice.

  “Well, look who’s finally awake,” a soft, feminine voice said from the door.

  Lily squinted in the shadowy light trying to see who had spoken. An older woman walked quietly to the side of the bed and snapped on a soft light. She wore a white nurse’s uniform and smiled warmly as she stuck a thermometer into Lily’s mouth and lifted her wrist to take her pulse.

  The thermometer beeped, and the nurse smiled again as Lily’s temperature flashed a normal 98.6 on its LCD display.

  “Looks like your fever is finally gone,” she said depositing the plastic probe cover into the waste bin next to the bed.