Blood Curse (Misty Cedars - Vampire Edition) Read online

  Blood Curse

  Adrienne Blake

  Acknowledgments

  To the secret elves working tirelessly in my writing cave

  Contents

  Preface

  1. Escape

  2. Jamais Vu

  3. Home Cooking

  4. A Cup of Tea

  5. An Open Window

  6. Breakfast

  7. Murderous Intent

  8. The Guest House

  9. Jake’s Bar

  10. Lilly

  11. Mamaw’s Place

  12. St. Judes

  13. The MacMillan House

  14. Dark Angel

  15. In Sempiternum Condemnabitur

  16. The Vampire Micah

  17. Tomorrow

  About the Author

  Afterword

  The Necromancer’s Curse. Sue - A Veil of Mists

  Also by Adrienne Blake

  Blood Curse © 2019 Adrienne Blake

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Preface

  Blood Curse

  Killing the vampire, Micah, may be Holly’s only chance to survive. In three days his Blood Curse will be complete, and Holly’s soul damned forever.

  During a chance traffic stop in remote Pennsylvania, Holly is dragged out of her car by a rogue cop. Her neck is ruthlessly torn open, and the last thing she sees as she passes out is a gargantuan wolf leaping toward her.

  When she wakes in a handsome stranger’s home, she fears she’s been kidnapped, only to discover a truth far more frightening. Within three days Holly will turn into an undead creature of the night, a slave to her vampire sire, Micah, who has been terrorizing the valley for years.

  With the help of Noah, who saved her, and relying on a combination of wits and willpower, they set off to hunt down Micah... not knowing that the ancient vampire is aware of their plan and is waiting for them....

  1

  Escape

  "Oh, bite me!"

  Holly tossed a final couple of tops into her suitcase and struggled with the zipper, which stuck halfway.

  "What have I done now?"

  Nate sat down on the edge of her bed, a vacant, hopeless look on his face. That right there was the problem.

  "Nothing, you haven't done anything," she lied.

  "What, then?"

  Holly put her full body weight onto the case, and at last, the zipper moved on to close. She pulled it off the bed, extended the handle and grabbing her keys, made straight for the door. She reached for the doorknob then paused, her shoulders slumped. Nate wasn't a bad guy. He didn't deserve this.

  "I just need some time away from this city, from the university. From everything."

  "Including me?"

  Especially you. "I'll call you when I get to my motel, okay?"

  "Fine." There was no fight in him. Maybe she wished there was, maybe she didn't. But Holly knew Nate wasn't what she wanted right now. There was just too much pressure in her life—her parents, her doctorate, and Nate's unrelenting yet passive attempts to get her to fuck him. It was just all too much. She opened the door and left without turning for a final goodbye.

  Down on the street, she coerced her case into what little remaining trunk space she had, then jumped into her swanky, arrest-me-red Alfa Romeo with its rear spoiler and tinted glass. On days like this, Holly was glad her people were loaded and that she owned a reliable, fast car. Fair play to her poorer fellow students in their beat up Beetles and Kias, but she needed out of this place fast, and this was just the motor to do it.

  As soon as she was out of town and beyond the reach of most traffic cameras, Holly put her toe to the gas and floored it. She loved the roar of the engine as it hugged the asphalt, and had the satellite radio cranked up full blast to sing along to. At last, she was free.

  As the miles sped by, she turned down the music to listen to her own thoughts. It was funny, but they seemed muted in the crowded confines of the big city. Only here, when she was totally alone in the big open, could she hear them properly. Holly wound down the window and let the rushing air fill her lungs. Not perfect yet, but it would be soon. Just a full day's ride away.

  After a while the light faded. Soon it would be totally dark, just her and her headlamps, cruising along the lonely road.

  She first heard the sirens, then saw the lights. Shit. Slowly, Holly eased off the gas and pulled over onto the dim shoulder. Where had he come from? She hadn't seen him, that was for sure, and the road was flat for miles around. Pretty odd. But what did it matter now? He'd seen her, and a ticket was coming.

  Holly saw a solitary figure emerge from the police car, and she leaned over to her glove box to pull out her registration. Once she found it, she rummaged inside her purse in search of her license. Might as well get this over with. The sooner he wrote her up, the sooner she could be on her way.

  With a sigh she waited for the familiar tap on the driver window and prepared to wind her window down. "I'm sorry officer, was I speeding?"

  Holly never heard a response. In that instant, she was dragged effortlessly through the window, like a meal bag at a fast food drive-thru. She stopped breathing as the adrenaline surged through her. Whatever had her held her by the throat. Her toes barely grazed the ground as she battled in a futile effort to gain control. And then after a biting sting to her neck, Holly felt her life's blood pulsing through her, as it was forced upward against its natural flow, causing every inch of her body to pause and surrender to the deadly sensation.

  There was no pain. Her fight and her will were overcome by the relentless draw of her life's blood. In fact, after a while, she didn't want this feeling to stop. Ever. Holly managed to raise her hand to her attacker's wrist but not to fight him. Quite the opposite. She never wanted this feeling to end and would ensure his grip on her forever.

  The world around her began to fade away. There was just her neck, and the blood that pulsed through her body, and the pursed and hungry lips of her assailant. Holly was sinking into a glorious sleep, her eyes fluttered on the brink of unconsciousness, only to be ripped violently away from the source of her pleasure. Still she felt no pain, but the dust from the road irritated her nostrils and caused her eyes to water.

  Somewhere about her was a scuffle. Who, what or why was beyond her. All she knew was she'd been dragged from a delicious death, and she groaned, punching her fist against the earth as if the world itself had cheated her.

  And then the tingles. Small flutterings surged through her body as her nerves began to reawaken. And then she heard a low groan, which grew louder with every passing second. Such pain. Such hopeless, debilitating suffering.

  And then she realized the cries around her were her own as she writhed about in the dirt in hopeless agony. The job was not done. She lived. Yet would never live again....

  There was nothing to see for miles. Still, the wolf hunkered down, his nos
e to the ground as he followed the scent of his enemy. Guided only by the dim light of the moon, he moved swiftly, his ears alert to any strange sound. This was his territory, his patch, and he'd be damned if an immortal waltzed in uninvited, creating havoc.

  The hard earth moved swiftly under his paws as he raced forward. The world was not silent; all around him the croak of the frogs and the chirp of the crickets filled the night air with their song.

  But then they stopped. The hairs bristled on the wolf's neck; the scent of the immortal was intense here. He could not be far. The wolf raised his head, drinking in the night air, tasting for smell. And there was something else. Exhaust fumes.

  He turned into the scent. In the distance, he could see the lights of a vehicle, whizzing along the lonely road at a great speed. But he instinctively knew that wasn't his enemy. From out of nowhere, emergency lights flashed red white and blue. Then a second set of headlights lights turned on, giving chase to the first. As the vehicle neared, it pulsed a single siren. The first car slowed, and both pulled off to the shoulder.

  A lone figure emerged from the cop car and walked purposely to the speeder. But the wolf's sympathy was with the driver of the first car, not the policeman. Almost as soon as the immortal reached the vehicle, he wrenched a body through the open window, as if it were nothing at all.

  Micah. He would know him anywhere by his stench.

  The wolf dashed across the open field, his focus trained solely on reaching the luckless driver before it was too late. As he ran, he realized it was a woman, saw her struggle against her imminent death, then her strange submission—the trademark of the immortal. Death would take her any moment. There was no time. Just a few more yards....

  Crouching low, he channeled all his strength into his front paws, and then pushing off with his hind legs, he soared through the air. If the immortal sensed he was coming, he showed no sign; perhaps his senses were dulled by his feeding frenzy? But whatever the reason, the wolf collided with them both, separating the woman from her death, freeing her, if only for a little while.

  The wolf and Micah tumbled across the earth, the wolf snapping at the immortal's throat, clawing at his body while Micah held his jaws at bay, trying to establish the dominant grip. Their bites could be equally fatal, but though the wolf cared little for his own mortality, if he died, so would the girl, and Micah would go unchallenged.

  They were so close, the rancid breath of the undead filled him with disgust, but still, he clung and snapped, for this was a battle he dared not lose.

  But Micah was not done yet. With a strength greater than any man's, he gripped the wolf's neck and back leg, sending him hurtling through the air. With a yelp, he hit the hard ground, not finding four feet but landing awkwardly on his hip. He writhed and turned, trying to regain his equilibrium, but it was too late. By the time he was right side up, Micah had reached his car. Tires spun, then gained traction and launched the car forward. Thankfully, the immortal's thoughts were trained on him and not the girl, for she would never have been able to dodge the speeding vehicle in time.

  And then he was gone.

  Even before the dust settled, the wolf limped over to the girl. She didn't move. Had he been too late? Was she dead already?

  Cautiously, the wolf bent down to her face and sniffed. No, Death had not taken her yet, but he'd been very close. Her life scent was faint, almost nonexistent. If he left her there now, she would slip away for sure. But not to a peaceful death. That fate was beyond her now. She had been kissed by an immortal and would soon be undead. Perhaps it would have been better if he'd allowed Micah to finish his gruesome task before warding him off.

  A cloud drifted past the face of the moon, illuminating the victim's features. The wolf gazed at her disheveled red hair, long limbs and alabaster skin, marred only by the blood-soaked bite of the immortal. This one was quite the beauty.

  It was a dilemma for sure. If he left her here as things stood, she too, would become his enemy. While a trace of life remained, he could sink his own fangs into that beautiful neck and finish the job the immortal began. Or snap her neck with a powerful twist?

  Yet, that would make him a killer, too, something he'd always thought to avoid. But what else could he do? He had always followed a lonely path, preferring solitude to the company of others. He stared again at that heart-shaped face and ruby lips that even now were improving in luster. She was changing already. It would only be a matter of time.

  The decision was made. He knew what he had to do.

  The wolf raised his head to the pale lonely moon and closing his eyes, he howled.

  2

  Jamais Vu

  Hunger. Holly was so ravenous. When was the last time she ate? She would kill for a bloody steak. Hell, why bother cooking it at all? She licked her parched lips and daydreamed about sinking her teeth into something juicy and alive. She must feed and soon, or the pain in her gut would never end, she was sure of it.

  Holly opened her eyes. That was an odd dream, she thought. The fog in her head cleared, and she looked about her. Where was she? This wasn't her home, or a hospital, nor anywhere she recognized. She tried to rise but immediately fell back on the pillows, too weak to lift herself up.

  What had happened to her?

  She remembered her parents, her father teasing her mother. And her smarter, book-loving sister, Gabby, with her love of helpless animals and her wish to become a veterinary surgeon when she grew up. She remembered what's-his-name...Nate? And her Alfa Romeo, and the drive, and... Why was it so hard? It was as if she was having to recall someone else's memories, not her own. She wasn't sure why they felt so foreign.

  She knew her name was Holly but that was all. She remembered who she had been, just as she remembered the others. But it was like the memory of another person other than herself, not who she was now. Who that was, remained a mystery.

  Everything suddenly seemed strange and alien to her. It was like jamais vu, the opposite of déjà vu, nothing was familiar. Holly didn't like the sensation at all.

  The side of her throat burned. She raised a hand to discover a bandage around her neck. How red her polished nails looked against the pure white alabaster of her hands. How flat and sunken her veins.

  At least her underwear was still on. And someone had put her in a clean, man-sized tee shirt.

  Someone was coming up the stairs.

  With the greatest effort, Holly pushed up onto one elbow and checked out her room for options. There was one door in, and a small window to the right of the bed. Her bedspread was a checkered quilt, and there were family pictures dotted about the walls. All in all, too homely to be an institutional room, and yet, not homely, more surreal.

  As the door opened, she held her breath. A man entered, but she could not see his face. He backed in through the door carrying a large tray of something which made her stomach turn.

  He turned, and Holly found him to be a handsome man, with long, brown, somewhat unruly hair which framed his face and almost met his shoulders. He had soft brown eyes that were now kindly turned her way, but looked ready to laugh if occasion demanded. She would have thought his beard hot if she'd seen it in different circumstances. He put the tray down on top of a table by the bed.

  "Good to see you're awake at last."

  "Where am I?" she asked.

  "You were attacked on the road, just outside of town."

  "Attacked?" An image flashed before her of a faceless man and then the burn in her throat grew more intense. Her hand reached up to her neck. The young man noticed and nodded.

  "Yes, I'm afraid you were bitten pretty badly."

  "Bitten? By what?"

  The young man didn't answer that. "My name is Noah. Noah Michaels. I found you."

  "Found me?"

  "Well, rescued you."

  "And the man who attacked me?"

  "I'm afraid he got away."

  Holly looked around the room, a little skeptically. "And you brought me here, to this place? Why didn't y
ou call an ambulance or take me to a hospital?"

  The young man raised his hands, as if arranging his thoughts. "I thought it best to bring you here. Your wounds were peculiar."

  "My neck? And what else?"

  Noah turned away, as if he didn't want to say.

  Bring me a mirror, please," said Holly.

  Noah shook his head. "You should wait until you're stronger."

  Her hand shot to her face. Oh God! How bad can it be? And yet everything appeared to be in place. "Find me a mirror right now!"

  Noah raised his eyebrows but, apparently sensing it was futile to protest, he disappeared momentarily from the room, returning just a few minutes later with a small, old-fashioned hand mirror. Holly pushed herself up fully and on taking the mirror, let it rest for a second on her thigh while she summoned the courage to look.

  Noah gently perched on the edge of the bed, his palm over the mirror, giving further pause. "Holly...."

  "You know my name?"

  "Yes, sorry, your purse." Noah pointed to a chair in the corner of the room. Her bag was draped over the arm. She also spotted her clothes, washed and folded in a neat pile on the seat. "Holly," he repeated, "I have to tell you, this will come as something of a shock." He pointed to the mirror.

  Holly closed her eyes, and silently counted to three. Her heart raced as she turned the mirror right side up, and then, drawing on all her courage, she slowly opened her eyes.