BloodSworn (3 page)

After years of being judged inferior for her lack of magic,
she should’ve been happy about her newfound gift. BloodSworn witches carried
their magic in their blood, no scrambling to pull magic from the earth. It made
them the most powerful and the most feared.

The revelation had cost her parents their lives.

For her own protection, the coven had bound her powers and
sent her to live in the human world. Trina fought the decision bitterly, but it
did no good. With her powers locked to keep her hidden, she was without family
or magic, helpless in the outside world.

Trina had made a life for herself, hidden away from the darkness
of the paranormal world, where science filled the void magic had left.

She made a much better human than witch.

Then three weeks ago, vampires had taken Eden, her sister,
from her fully-warded house.  

And it was Trina’s fault.

The bindings on her powers had begun to loosen. The vampires
had sensed her and rumors about her survival re-surfaced.

They’d taken Eden to draw her out.

It didn’t take long for her home to be discovered. Trina would’ve
bumbled into them if her power hadn’t awoken, nearly freezing her in warning.
Like a coward, she drove by without stopping. Later that night, the news
reported that a fire had ravaged her house. Only the skeletal structure
remained, her every possession consumed by flames. The destruction was chilling.

The vampires wouldn’t stop until they had her blood and with
it, the power to wield the magic carried within. She was the last of her line,
the last one able to work blood magic.

A BloodSworn witch, albeit an untrained one.

Legends said she could bring down the vampire nation.

Too bad she didn’t have the first clue about how to do it.

She remembered the basic magic lessons she learned as a
child, but they did her no good when she wasn’t able to access her power. The
only way she could cast a spell was by spilling her blood.

Not a good alternative.

She’d be bled dry before she rescued her sister.

That’s why she was here.

She gazed at the house they called the Den, a rambling
structure reminiscent of a lord’s mansion stolen from another era. Her
attention stole unerringly to the third-story window and caught the big hulk of
a man staring at the shed.

From the intent, unwavering gaze, she’d swear he saw through
the walls to her exact spot. Instead of fear, her grip loosened on the stake
and the tightness in her chest eased. There was something about the man that
exuded competence. He projected menace so no one even dared breath wrong in his
direction. Whatever he came up against, he’d handle.

Even vampires.

* * *

Trina was being followed.

Fear left her on edge, but the thought of actually doing
something instead of hiding sent a totally irrational thrill through her. She’d
doubled her training regimen, but a human could only do so much. For the last
three nights, ever since she’d spotted the vampires in pack territory, someone had
haunted the shadows, watching her every move.

She’d lost the bastard on the first night.

She hadn’t detected any telltale signs of vampires, no
rotting moss she associated with them, but she could no longer assume she was
safe in shifter territory. Not after having vampires shoved under her very
nose.

The second night, no matter how many detours she took, alleys
she backtracked through, the man only vanished once she’d entered the gym. She wasn’t
able to lose her pursuer, but oddly enough, she didn’t sense any danger from
him.

Tonight though, he didn’t disappear.

Warmth from his gaze left her edgy and achy and jumping at
shadows.

She put herself through a hard workout to burn off her
nerves, but it only left her exhausted and more than a tad grouchy.

Throwing off her preoccupation, she finished her job, testing
the pH balance of the pool and whirlpool and jotted down the corrections in her
notes. After a quick shower and meal, she peered out of the blackened windows,
doing her best to ignore the way her heart increased tempo at the thought of
catching the guy following her.

His eyes watched her every move, but instead of the freezing
chill that normally preceded an attack, a sensual warmth wrapped around her. Though
she didn’t spot him, she felt his eyes caress her body, leaving her
hypersensitive to her surroundings. Her blood pounded as magic swelled. Her
hands tingled, and she absently rubbed them on her jeans, ignoring the magic
begging to be harnessed. Fear tightened the back of her throat as the spell
that bound her powers bowed under the demand. Only when the surge passed was
she able to breathe again. Thankfully, the spell held. This time.

She’d never practiced magic once she’d left the coven. Part
of her had fantasized about becoming a powerful witch, but as the years passed,
the dream faded. She’d honestly thought her magic had burned out. That belief
changed about a month ago when the edges of the bindings began to unravel. Like
a scared lab rat, she scrambled to cover the signs of her magic’s return.

The terror of being discovered consumed her.

And the signs were growing progressively worse, the magic fighting
her at every turn to be free. She had to be vigilant. Right now, that spell was
the only thing that kept her hidden. If it shattered, the perfume of her blood would
spill into the air every time her magic rose to the surface. Without the formal
training to keep it in check, the vampires would capture her in days.

She absently fingered the athame tucked at her waist then reluctantly
released the knife and grabbed for her wallet to pay for her meal. “Thanks,
Chuck.”

The man behind the counter nodded. “You be careful now. It’s
dark out there. Creeps like to hunt pretty things like you.”

She smiled at his sincerity, tugging on her stocking cap. “I
know how to take care of myself.” She’d made sure of it. She applied at this
gym because other than working in the lab, the gym was the only other place
where’d she spent any time.

She refused to be a victim ever again.

She swung the straps of her bag over her shoulder to keep
her hands free and headed out. She unobtrusively searched the shadows, but saw
nothing suspicious.

The bite in the air had deepened, and she smelled moisture on
the breeze. Snow would come soon. She tugged the layers of her clothes tighter
around her body, mourning the loss of her old comfortable clothing.  

The traffic was sparse, the streets all but deserted at this
time of night. There was a scuffle in the alley a yard ahead, and she pulled up
short.

She stopped worrying about being followed and focused on the
now. If she hadn’t been listening for the sound of her stalker, she might have
missed it.

Trina automatically pulled her knife, shifting her stance. She
drew in a deep breath, but smelled nothing but garbage and urine. When she
looked at the alley, the dust in the air meet resistance, held suspended like
scum dragged up from the bottom of a pond.

Then it hit her.

What her mind was trying to tell her.

Magic.

She concentrated on the alley, trying to recall the basic
spells taught to all kids in the coven. Like always, the foreign earth magic
resisted her call. The bindings controlling her magic clamped down tight in
vicious retaliation, but she persisted.

Air became thin. Blood rushed into her head. The magic gave
into her demand but not without extracting its own price. A persistent ache throbbed
in her head, intensifying with each beat of her heart, but she refused to turn
away as the dingy walls of the alley slowly came into view.

Grittiness and trash were scattered everywhere.

Then she sensed them.

Two men in the narrow pathway.

There was a wrongness about them that darkened the air when
they exhaled. Both were armed, and she knew with a certainty that neither would
let her pass. She loosened her hold on the magic, and it rebounded, almost like
it was eager to get away from her.

The image faded.

Black dots danced in her vision, obstructing her eyesight.

When she dropped the magic, the ache lessened but didn’t
vanish completely. It wouldn’t for a few hours. She turned on her heel, intent
on heading back to the gym, when someone grabbed her arm.

Acting on instinct more than any sense of threat, she swung
her athame, aiming for center mass.

Warm fingers easily encircled her wrists, stopping her
short. Startled by the heat of the touch, the power behind the effortless move,
her gaze flashed up.

And met those of the mysterious man she knew that had been
following her. “You.”

“Me.”

The man from the Den.

Even though she hadn’t seen him up close, she instantly
recognized him from his sheer size. The overgrown buzz cut didn’t disguise the
brownish-gold color of his hair. But it was the color of his eyes that captured
her attention, and the rest of the world falling away.

Vivid green. That was until you got close and peered deeper.
Near the pupil, the green color splintered to a golden brown, almost like two
separate people were staring out at her.

The effect was quite stunning.

“We should go.” He raised a brow at the knife but said
nothing. The low baritone sent a shiver of lust pounding through her. Images of
them entwined in bed flashed in her mind, the vision so real her breath caught.
He steered her away from the alley, his thumb caressing her wrist, and she
realized he still held her hand.

She reluctantly pulled away and some of the overwhelming
need to push him up against a wall and claim him eased enough for her to think of
something other than the two of them naked and why that wasn’t such a good
idea.

“Not so fast.”

They turned as one to see two grubby men, young kids really,
emerge from the darkness, their movements twitchy as if strung out on drugs.
Only with them it was much worse.

They’d cast magic on themselves to make them better. There
was a reason that was illegal. They were addicted to the rush. They thought
themselves invincible, which made them all the more dangerous.

“Come on, Jimmy. Let’s go.” The smaller one tugged on the
arm of the other. The larger one didn’t budge.

“You should listen to your smart friend.” Her stalker angled
her subtly, edging in front of her, his shape seemingly growing bigger.

Some sort of shifter then. She suspected it when she first
caught sight of him.

The one name Jimmy answered by flipping out a switchblade,
the wicked knife flashing in the light. “Give us the woman.”

Trina didn’t tense but relaxed and shrugged out of her pack.
She shifted to her side, widened her stand and flipped her knife around so the
blade rested against her wrist.

In answer, the big man moved in a blur. One second he was
standing next to her, the next he had the guy by the neck, pinned to the wall
with one hand. The other hand held the kid’s wrists above his head and squeezed.
The attacker grunted and dropped the knife.

The second man dug in his pocket, chanting in a guttural
language she recognized from childhood. There wasn’t a weapon to fight, but the
air around her thickened, the temperature dropping with the threat. Not waiting
for him to finish casting, Trina pricked the tip of her finger and thrust out
her hand.

Blood magic worked more from instinct than any spells or
chants. A percussion reverberated in the air and sent the smaller man stumbling
back. Her magic repelled whatever he threw, blowing it back at him.

The kid screamed, clawing at his face, rivulets of blood
trickling through his fingers. He lurched into the street then ran full tilt
into a parked car. The impact dropped him motionless to the cracked pavement.

The silence was worse than the screaming.

She followed cautiously, stopping near the body but didn’t touch
anything. The flicker of the street light cast him in a yellow glow, his injuries
looking all the worse with dirt and rocks from the road caked into the wounds. When
she crouched, she smelled spices she associated with earth magic.

“He’s alive.” She stood. Her rescuer still had the other guy
tacked to the wall. The attacker’s eyes were wild, struggling frantically to
get free like a fly on a sticky trap. The front of his pants darkened with
urine.

Her stalker cum rescuer hefted him higher, muscles bulging.
“What do you want with her?”

The gravelly threat in his voice sent goose bumps over her
arms, and she nearly tripped over the body at her feet as she stepped closer to
the interrogation. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers but forced
herself to listen. She couldn’t hide from this if her own kind were now joining
the hunt.

“Bounty.” The voice squeaked, fingers clawing ineffectually
at the hand at his throat.

“Why?”

“Scep-ter.” The guy’s face turned purple, his eyes rolling
white, and she knew they weren’t going to get any more out of him. She snuck a glance
at the shifter, only able to breathe when she spotted no recognition at the
word. She needed more time to rescue her sister and stay out of everyone’s way
while she did so. That wouldn’t happen if they found out the truth about her.

“Let him go.” When stalker-guy made no move to listen, she
grabbed his arm, half-afraid that he intended to kill the man. At the touch, instant
heat spread, shocking in its intensity. All her mind could see was her legs
wrapped around his waist, taking her pleasure from him.

She dropped her hand, her fingers curling into fists to
prevent herself from petting him and exploring further. Though she couldn’t see
his face, his complete attention was centered on her. It was the slight tilt to
his head, his awareness of her every move, that gave him away.