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Ravenite (Vengeance and Vampires Book 1)
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Ravenite
Alicia Rades
Copyright © 2018 Alicia Rades
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission from the author except in brief quotations used in articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by Crystallite Publishing.
Produced in the United States of America.
Edited by Megan Linski.
Cover design by Covers by Combs.
To Paul, who has never stopped believing in me.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
1
Vampires are easier to kill after you've pecked their eyes out. This vamp was dangerously close to finding out exactly what that felt like.
I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shoved the vampire up against the side of a brick building. He was at least four inches taller than me, but I easily matched his strength.
The darkness of night blanketed the damp, narrow alleyway. Humidity hung in the air from the recent rain, carrying the scent of putrid garbage over to us from the dumpsters nearby. Brick buildings rose on either side of us. Each was two stories high, with restaurants, bars, and the occasional boutique shop on the lower levels and apartments on the upper. I never ventured into this part of town during the day, but this street crawled with vampires at night. I was a sucker for vampires looking for a stake through the heart. They usually found it.
“Tell me where the Soulless are hiding!” I demanded.
The vamp’s canines elongated until fangs protruded from his mouth. “Look, lady,” he said, showing them off. “I’m not scared of you.”
Lady? Who the hell does he think I am?
“If you knew who I was, you’d be scared,” I snarled.
“I’m a Soulless. I have no reason to be scared of you.” He raised his left hand and pulled back his sleeve to prove a point. The mark of the Soulless was carved into his wrist—the same mark I’d noticed from my perch atop the bar’s roof. The scar was shaped like a V, with two dots in the middle, one atop the other—fang marks.
“You should be the one who’s scared,” he threatened.
Okay, maybe he had a point. The Soulless scared me shitless, but Fangs here seemed harmless enough—for a vampire.
“I don't play games.” My fingers tightened around his throat. “I could snap your neck right here, right now.”
Fangs scoffed. “That ain't gonna kill me, honey.”
“It’d give me plenty of time to get the job done,” I countered. “Now tell me where to find your friends.”
“What do you want with them?” he asked, narrowing his silver eyes at me.
“It doesn't matter,” I said. “All that matters is that you're dead if you don't tell me.”
Laughter bubbled up from his throat, and I nearly gagged at the scent of copper and vodka on his breath. Vampires didn’t have to breathe, but it must’ve been habit. “You'll only consider killing me once I tell you.”
Poor guy. He won't know what hit him.
“You obviously don't know who I am.” I had a reputation to uphold, which meant if he didn't talk, he most certainly would die.
“Should I know you?” Fangs said with a suggestive smile.
Pig.
I slammed my fist into the side of his face for that one. He fell from my grasp and stumbled sideways but stood straight up again in less than a second. His lip was split where my knuckles connected with it, but like all vampires, he didn’t bleed. The wound would heal within the hour, though.
“All I know, lady, is that you're in trouble,” Fangs sneered.
Before I had a chance to respond, he lunged forward. A sudden sharp pain shot across my thigh. It felt like I'd just been impaled by a freaking sword. Was it forged in the fires of Hell or something? My leg felt like the flesh was burning off it.
I cried out and fell onto one knee. When I glanced down at my leg, I saw it was only a pocket knife.
Only a pocket knife. And it was sticking three inches into my flesh.
Lovely. I'd paid a high witch three months’ worth of wages to enchant this outfit to shift with me, and now I’d forever have this hole in my jeans. My favorite pair of jeans, too. My ass looked perfect in them.
A moment of lust crossed Fangs’s eyes as he stared down at the blood rushing out of my wound.
Yeah, that’s right. I’m a shifter, I wanted to yell. I bet I taste fan-freaking-tastic, you jackhole!
I ripped the knife from my skin and pressed my free hand to my leg to slow the bleeding. Either Fangs had enough to drink earlier or he saw the fury etched into my face and thought better of sticking around, because after only a moment of hesitation, he turned and hightailed it down the alley.
A string of curse words trailed after him. It took me a moment to realize I was the one shouting them. I pulled my arm back and hurled the knife at his back, but it flew past his right hand, missing him entirely.
I was not done with this vamp. I rushed to my feet, ignoring the pain shooting up and down my leg and the blood soaking into my jeans. I was two steps from tackling him when a figure sprang out from the shadows. He slammed into Fangs’s side and knocked him to the ground. I stopped in my tracks. The newcomer scurried to his feet and smashed a foot into the vamp’s gut before he had a chance to move.
Oh, good. He's on my side.
I took a moment to steady myself against the side of the building and pressed my hand back over the wound. It burned more than it should, which could only mean one thing. The knife had been laced in vampire venom. Which meant I didn’t have long before the blaze hit full force and I was down for the count.
“Cowen, you bastard!” the new guy shouted. His fist connected with Fangs’s face.
Good shot, I thought. Except…
“Hey,” I snapped. “I'm not some damsel in distress. I've got this.”
The new guy was tall—at least six foot—with short black hair the same color as his skin. With those broad shoulders and all that muscle, he was the living embodiment of the phrase tall, dark, and handsome. I might’ve gone weak in the knees at the sight of him if I wasn’t already feeling unsteady from the wound.
Handsome was too preoccupied with hauling Fangs to his feet that he didn't look at me when he replied. “No offense, but I need a moment with this vamp.”
Wait. What?
“Uh, no,” I objected. “He’s mine.”
Fangs grunted as Handsome shoved him up against the building in the same position I just had him in. Handsome landed another punch to his jaw with a loud thud.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Go easy on him. I need him to talk.”
Handsome’s striking brown eyes met mine, and they widened in shock. His gaze flickered down to my bleeding leg, and his face immedi
ately fell. He hesitated for a moment, but it was one moment too long. Fangs swung his knee upward to connect with Handsome’s groin. Handsome grunted and sank to the ground, while Fangs took off running.
I didn't waste a second. I sprinted after him. My leg burned like the sun, but I managed to put one foot in front of the other.
But Fangs was fast—faster than any human alive. It was one of the perks of being a vampire. Sure, vampirism had its drawbacks, like sensitivity to sunlight, bloodlust, and the fact that they couldn’t breed the traditional way, but it also came with flawless beauty, quick healing, supernatural strength, and super speed at least five times faster than a normal human. Not to mention immortality—or at least a killer anti-aging enchantment. There were very few things that could kill a vampire. Luckily for me, I was pretty good at it.
I stumbled forward, and my hands slapped on the sidewalk. I caught myself and hurried back to my feet. The throbbing had spread down to my ankle and up my hip. I couldn't feel my knee anymore.
Chasing him on foot was useless.
I paused on the deserted sidewalk, only long enough to shift. Within seconds, my body shrank to the size and shape of a raven. Shifting didn't help the searing pain burning through my body. In fact, it only made it worse. But in my raven form, I didn't have to put weight on my leg. I shot into the air and flew down the street at top speed. My eyes caught the vamp turning down another alleyway up ahead.
I pumped my wings harder, but I'd lost my visual on him. I flew so fast around the turn into the alley that I nearly missed it. I quickly corrected my flight, but by the time my eyes focused, the alley was empty. The burning pain reached my wings, and I struggled to continue flapping them. I shot out of the alleyway onto a busy street bustling with nightlife. My eyes flickered from face to face, but Fangs was nowhere to be seen.
Frick!
The pain was more unbearable than ever. My vision blurred, and my head grew fuzzy. I wasn’t ready to give up yet, but I didn’t have the strength to keep going.
Just my luck.
I turned down a quiet street away from the bars and restaurants and shifted back into my human form. I sank to the ground and rested my head against the closest building. A string of curse words escaped my mouth. This was the closest I'd come to a Soulless in two years, and I'd let him slip through my grasp.
The distinct scent of dog hit my nose, and a low growl met my ears. My eyes shot open, only to be met by a pair of dark brown eyes just inches from my own. A black coat of fur covered the creature’s body.
My heart hammered. Vampires weren’t the only ones with supernatural perks. As a shifter, I was as strong as a vampire, a heck of a lot stronger than I looked. Plus, the vamps’ heightened sense of smell and hearing didn’t work on shifters for whatever reason, which made it hella easy to sneak up on them. But none of those perks would help me now. With the venom pulsing through my veins, I didn’t have the strength to fight off another shifter.
“Please. I—” I started.
My voice cut off when the black wolf rose to its hind legs. His body lengthened, and his snout shorted as he shifted back into human form, his fur shrinking into his skin. Handsome stood fully-clothed in front of me.
“You’re hurt,” he said breathlessly, kneeling to my level to inspect my injury.
I resisted his touch and kept my hand pressed over the wound. Sweat dripped down my face.
“We have to get you to a hospital.” He reached for me.
“No,” I groaned, my head lolling to the side.
“Yes, we do,” Handsome argued, like I didn’t have a choice. His arms folded around me.
“No,” I said more clearly, pushing him away. “A hospital won’t help. The knife was laced in vampire venom.”
Handsome’s jaw tightened, and he cursed under his breath.
“It’s not enough to change me,” I told him through labored breaths. “Just enough to hurt like hell.” I didn’t mention the part about its anticoagulant properties, which meant if I didn’t get this wound taken care of soon, I was going to bleed out. A wound infected with vampire venom didn’t just heal on its own. It required a vampire’s saliva or a healing spell. Luckily, I had one of those. I just had to get to it.
“Let me help you,” he offered.
“I can do it myself,” I protested. I pushed myself to my feet to prove a point, but I didn’t have the strength to stay upright. I stumbled forward.
Handsome caught me before I smashed my face into the concrete below me. He smelled familiar, like cinnamon. It was the scent of my mom’s kitchen on Thanksgiving morning… God, I missed her.
“You need help.” He wasn’t informing me; he was demanding.
There was no denying the truth, but…
“I don’t know you,” I said, harsher than I intended.
“I’m Venn,” Handsome introduced. “And you?”
Yeah… I wasn’t giving him my name.
“You’re the Ravenite, aren’t you?” Venn’s voice was soft in my ear.
“Don’t call me that.” I drew away from him but only stumbled again. I had to do something fast if I didn’t want to pass out.
“You are, aren’t you?” he pressed.
Nausea twisted in my gut. I thought I might vomit from the pain. I only nodded as I sank to the ground and pressed my face into my bloody hands.
What’s that healing spell again? I need to start memorizing these things.
“I have to call you something,” Venn said. “If you don’t want me calling you Ravenite, how about Rae for short?”
Close enough.
I nodded.
Venn knelt beside me. “Now that we know each other, will you let me help you?”
The sidewalk swayed in front of me. Unless I wanted to spend the night bleeding out here, I had no choice but to accept his offer.
“Okay,” I agreed, though I was barely able to spit the word out. “No hospital, though. My apartment.”
“No—” Venn began to protest.
“My apartment,” I repeated, cutting him off.
Venn must’ve noticed the urgency in my tone, because he quickly scooped me into his arms. I gave him my address. Within moments, he was racing down the street, cradling me.
It wasn’t like me to lead strangers back to my apartment, but I couldn’t walk or fly, nor could I stay out on the street all night. I’d get home, heal myself, and figure the rest out later.
All I knew was that once I was back on my feet, I was going after that Cowen bastard.
It was my only choice if I ever wanted to see my sister again.
2
Venn burst through the door of my studio apartment and rushed across the room to the bed. I groaned in agony as he set me down. The feeling of the blanket on my skin was torture, as if I’d just been tossed onto a bed of needles. This was so not how I pictured things going the first time I brought a guy back to my place.
“Where’s your med kit?” Venn demanded.
I tried to spit the words out through clenched teeth, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, I pointed to my spell book on the table across the room.
“You don’t have a first-aid kit?” Venn asked in disbelief.
I shook my head and pointed again.
His brow furrowed. “You want the book?”
I nodded, biting back a cry as the pain pulsed up my abdomen. “Now!”
We were running out of time. As Venn raced across the room for the notebook, I struggled to unzip my pants. There was no time for modesty.
“Help?” I asked desperately as soon as he returned.
Venn dropped the book next to me and began stripping my boots off. His fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans before he pulled them down my legs, careful not to touch my wound. Not that it mattered. Even the smallest touch sent a trail of fire across my skin. When he peeled my jeans back, it felt as if my skin was being ripped off with them.
“The book.” I tried to point, but I could hardly lift my limbs.
Venn hurried to my side and flipped my spell book open.
“Page…” Where was the spell again? “In the middle somewhere.”
“Tracking… Truth… Protection…” Venn read off the words I’d written in the headers of the pages.
“Keep going,” I croaked out.
“Healing… Healing!” Venn stopped and scanned the page, then flipped to the next one. “Which one? There are a ton of them.”
I struggled to sit up and somehow managed to prop myself up on my elbow. Venn turned the book toward me. The words swam in front of my eyes, and though I had perfect twenty-twenty vision, I squinted to see them more clearly.
“Next page,” I told him.
Venn turned the page so quickly that he tore it a half inch. I cringed.
“There!” I cried.
I scanned the incantation. Fantastic. This was going to be one of the toughest spells I’d ever performed. I let out a shaky breath. Let’s hope nothing went wrong. I began muttering the words under my breath.
Go away, pain! I thought to myself. Whoever said becoming a vampire was comparable to labor was insane. I was experiencing a mere taste of what vampire venom could do. If labor was even a fraction this bad, I was never having kids. And let’s hope to God no vampire ever tried to change me.
I reached the end of the incantation, but the pain only burned more intensely. Had I made it worse? This spell was supposed to counteract supernatural injuries.
Where’d I get this crappy spell from anyway? I glanced at my notes in the header of the page. It came from one of my boss’s clients, Mrs. Carlyle. She was the sweetest old lady you’d ever meet, but this wouldn’t be the first time she sold us a shoddy spell.