Bloodborn Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Bloodborn

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “How could you?” she gasped, taking another step backward, but to back up much further would result in falling over the edge of the cliff and into the holy waters below. However, he was blocking her escape, a menacing sword close to penetrating her skin. Any false move would result in an iron sword through her heart. “How could you take me here?”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” he answered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the only way. It’s the last thing I could do. For Zachariah.”

  She felt numb. After everything that had happened between them, he still meant to kill her? But he was her mate. Mates were supposed to look after one another.

  “Don’t do this,” she whispered, taking yet another step backward but stopping in her tracks when the roaring of the falls crashed into her ears like the loud toll of a bell signaling a vampire getting burned at the stake.

  She would meet the same fate, except the only audience she would have was Adam and it was holy water instead of fire. She didn’t know which was worse. “I care for you, Adam. I want you to give me a chance.”

  “I don’t have a choice. I need my brother back. He’s the only family I have left.”

  Bloodborn

  by

  Sydney Winward

  Bloodborn Series, Book 1

  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.

  Bloodborn

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Sydney Winward

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Abigail Owen

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Black Rose Edition, 2019

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2871-3

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2872-0

  Boodborn Series, Book 1

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To McKenzie,

  the best, most encouraging husband

  in the entire world

  Prologue

  A chill wind swept across the land, turning the air frosty. Each breath fogging the gray sky. Each footfall on the uneven cobblestone shattering the silence of the woods that led to the rundown tower. The eeriness of the atmosphere could kill, not to mention the rumor in town that vampires occupied the tower.

  That’s all it was, though—rumor. Nobody dared to set foot within five miles of the tower in fear of getting their blood sucked dry. But James felt brave today. Braver than anyone else in the kingdom.

  At least, that’s what he told himself as he shuffled along the broken path, hiding his shaking hands in his brown cloak. He glanced back at the friends who’d challenged him to touch the tower wall. They urged him on. He took a deep breath and continued forward. All he needed to do was touch the wall.

  His trembling hands brushed against the small pouch hidden in the folds of his clothing, and he offered a silent prayer that he wouldn’t need to use it. Salt. One of the vampires’ greatest weaknesses. Approaching the looming tower, he wished he had thought to wear a necklace of garlic or a vial of holy water. Curse his bumbling pride!

  He swallowed hard when he entered the deep shadow the gray tower cast, another chill sweeping across the grounds. Goosebumps crawled up his neck. His feet became paralyzed, melded to the dirt floor in fear.

  It’s just an abandoned rundown tower, he reminded himself, desperately seeking his own reassurance. All was still as he reached out a skittish hand to touch the gray wall. His heart pounded. His legs threatened to collapse underneath his petrified weight.

  Just a rundown tower. Nothing horrifying about it.

  He tried not to imagine, without success, the horrors he might find inside. He imagined the walls smeared with human blood. He imagined the tables lined with human corpses, bones scattered across the ground and red blood in golden goblets. Worst of all, he imagined bloodthirsty eyes, red from bloodlust.

  He clutched his cross necklace and offered up a prayer, reaching out with his free hand and hardly daring to breathe as he leaned forward on his toes. Closer…Closer…

  Finally, his fingers brushed against the cool stone and when nothing happened, he sighed in relief. Not only did he not turn to dust upon contact, he was still wholly intact. No severed limbs. No blood draining profusely from his body. He now found his fear misplaced. After he touched the tower, he came out completely unscathed—

  Blindingly fast, a figure shot toward him, and although he didn’t see the attacker, he felt its teeth sink deep into his neck. He screamed but lost his voice amid agonizing pain.

  Beyond the trees, Dustin’s eyes widened in fear as he, too, screamed with his own terror, bolting back the way he came with his friend at his heels. In his haste, he tripped over tree roots and stumbled on snagging shrubbery, but his nearly paralyzing fear kept him going forward until he finally burst into town, his heavy breathing making his words hardly discernible.

  He and his friend panted and shouted and panted some more until they drew a crowd of at least a dozen, all wondering what happened.

  “Slowly now,” the constable said, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked between the two of them. “What happened?”

  Dustin opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His friend spoke up for him. It was only one word, but enough to strike a chord of fear in each person’s heart.

  “Vampires.”

  Chapter 1

  Willow Ardelean swished her tail back and forth in annoyance, letting out a deep, throaty growl as she perched lazily on a high branch of a tree, carefully watching the blacksmith pound iron into lethal stakes. For a human, iron would be nothing more than a weapon, but to a vampire, it was deadly. One scratch could burn right through flesh. A stake through the heart, on the other hand, could end a vampire’s life. Forever.

  The town smelled strongly of garlic, practically burning
her eyes right from their sockets, and salt lined every home and doorway as far as the eye could see. An abundance of mirrors filled each home, suddenly making what used to be a peaceful town into a deathtrap.

  In a graceful bound, she jumped down from the tree and trotted on all fours along a dirt path. Oblivious children played ball in the streets and frantic adults urged them inside as if another vampire attack could happen at any moment.

  She rolled her green eyes at the display. Few vampires were brazen­­ enough to attack during the day in a town filled with humans that outnumbered them. Besides, any human who trespassed on vampire property was asking for fangs in their neck. If anyone asked her, the vampire who attacked the boy wasn’t the guilty party.

  “Shoo!” a woman shouted, batting a broom at her. “Black cats are bad luck. Heaven knows we need all the luck we can get.”

  The woman wasn’t the only one to cast her disdainful looks, therefore, she kept to the deepest shadows instead. As a vampire, she’d developed a knack for hiding. If she didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be.

  At long last, she reached the Silver Palace and when all eyes were occupied elsewhere, she let her transformation drop. Her four black furry paws grew into two slender arms and two feminine legs, her ears replaced by fiery red hair, and her whiskers melted into cheekbones, her naturally plump red lips standing out against her pale skin.

  For two hundred years, she had opted to live a normal life among humans rather than in the city of vampires where her father lived. It hadn’t been easy, but her curiosity couldn’t be satiated, not when there was so much to learn from them.

  “I finally found you! I’ve searched everywhere.” Sanne gave her a delicate smile, the lantern in her hands lighting her overly innocent face. Her dearest friend in town was the daughter of a wealthy noble, but Sanne certainly did nothing to earn her way at court. Aristocrats tolerated her presence, though they didn’t welcome her as their own, especially because the jarl was a woman of little patience.

  “Come! The jarl requests your audience.”

  She swallowed apprehensively but put on a smile, nonetheless. If the jarl ordered her head on a stake before she found an opportunity to leave town, she certainly would have a hard time leaving here alive.

  Alixia sat high on her stone throne, a look of serious regality in her eyes as she watched her approach.

  “I do not like to be kept waiting,” the jarl said, her deep voice befitting her station.

  “My apologies,” she said tightly with a low bow, keeping her eyes on the floor. She turned her head and her heart nearly jumped out of her ribcage when she caught sight of a mirror on the other side of the room, one that showed no reflection staring back at her. Casually, she moved away to avoid anyone noticing. If they learned of her deadly secret… “What do you need?”

  The jarl stood from her throne and paced the length of the floor, the fire in the hearth reflecting in her eyes. “I brought you into my stead for a reason. You’re good with…” Her eyes traveled over her still form, finally finishing with, “Men.” Although she had never chosen a mate, she certainly could act coy if the situation demanded it.

  “This vampire business is getting way out of hand. People are beginning to turn on one another. As you are already aware, a carpenter set the baron’s residence on fire, burning everything to the ground, including the baron.”

  She already knew of the incident but didn’t bother divulging the details. The carpenter hadn’t set the fire, but rather a vengeful young woman who the baron took advantage of on what should have been her wedding night. She still seethed inside at the thought. She used the fire as an excuse to feed on the vile man before he was consumed by the flames. It seemed a fitting end.

  “And where do I fit in?”

  “Yes, well, you know what happened to Greenshire, right? No one dared trade with them after a werewolf raid a few years back for fear of becoming infected. I don’t want the same thing to happen to Lakefalls.” The jarl turned to look her square in the eyes. “I am expecting a visitor and I need you to keep him in line.”

  It didn’t make any sense… What did the werewolf raid and the vampire attack have to do with a visitor?

  “With all due respect, I’m spooked by the latest vampire attack. I plan on leaving town for a while.” Or forever. Perhaps it was time to move on to the next city under a new identity. Begin a new life—one of the dozens she already lived after three hundred and forty-one years.

  “Nonsense, you never spook. You will stay and that’s final. I am far too busy handling internal affairs to keep my visitor in line myself.”

  She held back the growl that wanted to escape her throat as she stared back at the jarl. Back home, no one dared to give her orders, but she had left her world in favor of making a life among humans. With or without the jarl’s permission, she planned to leave this place behind. Forever.

  Still, she forced a smile to her face and gave the jarl a small curtsy.

  “Very well.”

  Chapter 2

  Adam Degore pulled on his boots. He slapped on his gloves. He concealed a knife in his shoe, strapped a quiver of arrows—of both the iron and silver variety—on his back. He slid his silver sword and his iron sword into the scabbard he wore next to the quiver, and lastly, filled his pack full of herbs, garlic, salt, and a handful of other items. After tucking various concealed weapons on his person, he was ready.

  He turned in time to catch the serious expression staring back at him in the mirror. His perfectly kept brown hair matched his straight nose and hard dark brown eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled, when his eyes had twinkled with humor. His profession—and ambition—took that away from him long ago. Not to mention the loss of his entire village and family to a vampire attack twelve years ago when he was sixteen.

  He shook the torturous memories away. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of smiling and hearty laughter. He had a job to do, and he was damn good at it.

  After rechecking he had everything he needed, he exited the inn, ignoring all the curious stares of strangers. One man glared at him as he walked past toward the stables—such was the life of a blood hunter. He often received his fair share of spitting, glares, and curses from those who sided with creatures like vampires and witches. Other people praised him for his work. He tried to ignore both types of people.

  “Come on, boy,” he clucked to his sturdy brown horse. Although the animal wasn’t much of a looker, he was built sturdily enough to carry the extra weight of Adam’s gear and as a blood hunter horse, had the endurance of five regular horses. Without him, Adam might not have escaped so many close calls unscathed.

  Earlier that morning, he’d received a job offer from a medium-sized town called Lakefalls. Fortunately, he was already headed in that direction and planned to arrive tomorrow. He would deal with the vampire threat and find satisfaction from one less bloodsucking creature roaming these parts.

  Travelers on the road watched him warily, and thankfully, they didn’t stop him. He found nothing more annoying than inconvenience.

  Dusk fell hours into the journey, and he decided to stop for a short break. He spotted a gentle stream off the beaten path and his horse nickered softly, excited about the prospect of taking a drink. A short rest couldn’t hurt… After all, the jarl didn’t expect him until tomorrow.

  With an unsurprising lack of grace, he hopped from his horse and cupped water in his hands from the stream, washing the cooling liquid over his face. It felt tantalizingly refreshing after the long day’s ride.

  His horse nickered nervously, immediately setting him on edge. Many times, the horse detected trouble before he did.

  “What is it, boy?” he asked, carefully scanning the trees. The horse nickered again, this time rearing the slightest bit. He glanced to his right, and then his left, taking in the stream, the trees, and the boughs all eerily silent.

  A flash of light shot toward him, and he instinctively jumped out of
the way, a ball of fire slamming into the tree directly above his head. Red embers rained down on him, but he didn’t pause to watch. Instead, he drew his silver sword from its scabbard and carefully scanned the trees again, this time with scrutiny. The air moved subtly, but it tipped him off.

  A witch.

  A second fireball shot in his direction, but he sucked in magic from the blood gem hanging from his neck, deflecting it with a wave of his arm, unleashing a powerful burst. Over the years, he had stored the souls of creatures he killed in battle inside the blood gem, giving him a small amount of magic. He could draw on it for strength or in this instance, the ability to deflect the witch’s attack.

  “Show yourself!” he growled, slicing his sword through the air.

  The witch cackled, the air shimmering like a mirage in a desert. She didn’t answer—they never replied. Witches were strange creatures he couldn’t understand, nor did he care to. He knew all he needed to know. They killed innocent people, taking a particular interest in cutting out the hearts of children. Therefore, they deserved to die.

  A wall of fire burst toward him, and he dove out of the way, somersaulting over dried leaves before rolling to his feet. He took a stab into the shimmering air, and the witch screamed before moving away from him. The air became hazy, giving the appearance of smoke to obscure his view. Still, he never blinked. Not once. Blinking meant becoming vulnerable.

  The smoke made his eyes water profusely, making it difficult to keep them open. He wouldn’t be bested by a witch. Not when he still had a vampire to catch.

  The witch shrieked in loud tones, coming at him again. This time, he was ready. He feinted to the left, and the witch took the bait and attacked. He sliced with his sword making contact with her arm, causing her to drop her invisibility shield. Before the creature gained her bearings, he kicked her hard, and she sprawled backward, not able to recover before he threw two of his daggers directly at her, pinning her to the tree by the shoulders.

  He slowly and cautiously approached the writhing creature, listening to her shrill screams, loud enough for cities twenty leagues away to hear. If he didn’t make his next move fast, she’d get away.