Blood Curse (Blood Immortal Book 3) Read online

  Blood Curse

  Blood Immortal

  Ava Benton

  Contents

  Blood Curse

  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

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Blood Curse

  Nightwarden and vampire Alexander is awakened from his century-long slumber by a mysterious witch. There’s no fanfare, no custom, no traditions. Just the taste of her blood to awaken him.

  Now they’re on the run, having broken vampire and witch laws.

  Enter a Tracker who’s hell-bent on catching Alexander and bringing him in. Except there’s a problem. The mysterious witch needs him.

  And for a vampire that’s not had feelings in centuries, he seems to find something stirring deep within.

  — More Ava Benton books are coming! —

  Sign up for the newsletter to learn of releases.

  Click on link

  Newsletter

  or put this in your browser window:

  mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/m7a8c5

  Prologue

  Years ago, more like centuries and centuries ago, there a new strain of vampires was brought to creation. Nightwardens, they were called by those who knew of their existence. A Nightwarden’s mission was simple. Guard the High Sorceress he was assigned to until needed no longer, then return back to his place deep within the earth, a place called The Fold.

  A new High Sorceress would come to power every so often among the covens. Some covens were fortunate enough to have Nightwardens to keep them safe. These Nighwardens were bodyguards in essence, except they were bodyguards without a choice. Bound by the blood of the one they were charged with protecting, the Nightwardens were faithful, monastic, and unemotional. Or so it was thought.

  No one counted on the emotions that would arise in these creatures that walk the dark and protect the sorceresses that wield power.

  1

  Alexander

  The first sensation I felt on waking up after my long sleep was the sweet tang of blood on my lips.

  Instantly, my eyes snapped open as if I came back to life. In a way, I did. It was always the same.

  A century of sleep, then waking up to find a new charge looking down at me, giving me her life-sustaining blood and beginning the connection which would weave our existences together for as long as she remained High Sorceress of her coven. A witch in need of a vampire’s protection.

  Another running similarity was the immediate understanding of my new charge. Much of what I needed to know about a witch came to me through the first drops of blood she dripped onto my mouth.

  The instant I swallowed, her history would reveal itself. Not in clear images, really, but impressions. How old she was, her lineage, how she lived. Her intelligence. Her special powers. How she felt about being granted a Nightwarden for her protection. Even her temperament, though that was the sketchiest of all the bits of information I absorbed. Whether she was kind or short-tempered, self-important as a result of her high status in her coven, or humble.

  Which was why, after swallowing a few drops of blood, I squinted up at the witch standing by my side. I was still on my back in my cell, as comfortable as could be considering I was hundreds of feet under the mountains of Appalachia. It was cold in there, utilitarian. We weren’t in need of creature comforts since we’d only be in stasis while we were there, letting time erase the blood imprint of the last witch we’d guarded.

  “Who are you?” I whispered.

  My voice was cracked, my throat dry.

  I swallowed more of the blood she offered me, dripping it from her finger into my open mouth. I needed more than that after a hundred years. I needed her to flood my mouth with thick, ruby red blood which would make me feel fully alive again.

  “Just drink,” she whispered before looking over her shoulder.

  What was she so nervous about? This wasn’t like any of the other rituals I had participated in. They might not have been grand affairs with trumpets and flower petals dropped at the witch’s feet, but witches had a sense of style when it came to ceremonies such as the waking of a Nightwarden. Our connection was the most intimate she would experience during her tenure as High Sorceress. It was an event.

  Not like this one.

  “Who are you?” I asked again, wondering how to make sense of the information loading into my brain.

  She was all a mess inside, with conflicting thoughts and emotions crashing into each other.

  I couldn’t pinpoint the exact time she was born or which coven she was about to lead. And she was frightened. That was unusual.

  “Don’t worry about that right now. We have more important problems.”

  “We?” I sat up, pushing her away.

  There was no one else with her. The High Council normally attended the ritual to oversee things and generally remind everyone of how important they were.

  “How much has changed since I came here?”

  She frowned, looking straight at me for the first time since she woke me. Her dark eyes were troubled. “Quite a lot, I would imagine, if you’ve been here for a century.”

  “Haven’t I? Wouldn’t you know if I had?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll explain later. Come on. We need to get out of here, and you can feed properly after that.” She pulled me by the arm.

  “I don’t have clothing! What do you expect me to do?” I only wore a pair of light, cotton shorts which had passed for underwear at the time of my return to The Fold.

  I had nothing of my own, which was the typical arrangement. A Nightwarden relied on their witch for everything, except in rare cases where they carried something from their past. A weapon they favored, something to that effect. I had no such belongings.

  She thrust a canvas bag at me while we hurried down the long, dark tunnel lined on both sides by cells. “Here. But not now. Wait until we get outside, away from here.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain it all. Come on!” We came to an intersection of tunnels, and the way she hesitated and put her hand to her head told me she was lost.

  “This way,” I growled, taking her arm instead and choosing the tunnel to my left. It was my turn to lead the way, and I didn’t even know the woman or why she was so secretive. If anything, I wanted to smell fresh air instead of the damp, cold, musty air of the tunnels.

  Which reminded me of something important. “Did you perform the Ra-Protection spell?” The spell which would allow me to enter daylight without bursting into spontaneous combustion.

  “Yes, yes, while you were in stasis.”

  “You’re sure?” Something told me I couldn’t take her at her word.

  “Why would I lie?”

  We slid around a corner and took off at a dead run down a curved passage. Or, rather, up a curved passage. I felt the slope of the floor under my bare feet as we traveled the length of the long tunnel which moved up around the inside of the mountain in a spiral.

  “I don’t know. Why would you be so secretive? You’re hiding something, and I don’t like being part of your game—whatever it is.”

  I heard trickling all around me, inside the mountain, running through cracks and crevices.

  Water ran in thin
lines down the insides of the walls, which even more water had worn smooth over time. There was no visible source of light, and yet I could see the way. Probably because of some form of magic or another.

  I didn’t know much about the specifics of witchcraft, even after spending so much of my existence alongside the wretches. Yes, wretches. I couldn’t be accused of being a fan of witches.

  She was just another one of them, but right away I knew she was the worst. Whatever her story was, she held her tongue until there was light visible at the end of the tunnel.

  It felt as though we had been running for hours. If I hadn’t just awoken from my long sleep and had more time to regain my strength through feeding, I would’ve been much faster.

  My new charge had me at a disadvantage.

  I stopped short of exiting the tunnel and flying out into the woods, and she stopped running when she noticed.

  “Come on! We’re almost out!” Her tone was hectic, her face flushed. Her eyes were too bright, too wide. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gasped for breath.

  Long, reddish light brown hair stuck to her face in sweaty clumps. She looked like a madwoman, and the fact that she wore clothing which looked as though she had stolen it from a man and spent weeks rolling in the dirt while wearing it didn’t help matters.

  “I need to dress. I’m nearly naked, remember? I don’t relish the thought of walking through the forest in my bare feet.”

  There was no telling what was inside the bag until I opened it. Trousers, an undershirt, socks, shoes with heavy, rubber soles. The trousers were loose, but a leather belt cinched the waist neatly.

  “I didn’t know how big you would be, so I tried to guess,” she said, so excited she shifted from one foot to the other and bounced from heel to ball and back again. Her eyes never left the tunnel we had come through.

  “I don’t understand any of this. If you’re doing something I’ll end up suffering for…” I pulled on a thin jacket, then looked at the tinted glasses left in the bag.

  “To conceal your eyes if we meet any humans,” she explained. “The red rim around the iris unsettles them.”

  “I would imagine.” I slid the glasses into the inside jacket pocket.

  “Great. Let’s go.” She tugged my sleeve, and I obliged, but I was careful to extend my hand out into the sunshine to be sure the spell worked, and I wouldn’t burn to death.

  All I felt was the gentle warmth of the sun’s rays. It was a pleasant sensation. I was glad to feel it instead of having to hunt only at night, hiding for my safety during the day. Though it came at a price: my freedom.

  She was already well ahead of me, practically running down the path leading from the entrance to The Fold.

  I hurried to keep up. It was getting easier, the longer I was on my feet. My body was waking up.

  “I can’t very well protect you if you run out of sight!” I called out.

  “That’s not what I’m concerned with, Nightwarden!” she called back over her shoulder. “We have to get as far away from The Fold as possible!”

  “Why?” I asked as I plunged through waist-high bushes, following her retreating figure as she left the path and ran deeper into the woods. Her already heavy breathing was starting to become labored, but she didn’t slow down.

  “Because I wasn’t supposed to be in there! You haven’t figured that out by now?”

  I wanted to stop and let the information sink in, try to make sense of it—even go back, if possible. I didn’t want this half-crazed wild woman to drag me into her world.

  But she had already started the imprint, and while our connection wasn’t as strong as it would be after multiple feedings, it was there, and it wouldn’t allow me to desert her.

  And she knew it.

  “Stop, damn you!” I caught up with her and clapped one hand on her thin shoulder, nearly bare thanks to the sleeveless shirt. Like a man’s undershirt. Had things changed so much in a century?

  She was ready to stop, too. Exhausted. She swayed on her feet, breathing in deep, desperate gulps.

  “I… I need to get far away. We need… far away…” She leaned against a thick tree, its branches providing a canopy against the sun.

  Sweat ran down her face in rivulets, and a perspiration odor had begun to waft from her skin and clothing.

  I could see much more of her in the daylight than I had inside, where all was dark even to my vampire eyes. Dirt streaked her face, caked in the fine lines around her eyes.

  “Who are you? Why are you here?” I held both of her shoulders and shook her until she looked at me. “Why did you wake me? What do you want?”

  “I want your help,” she murmured, still breathing heavy. Her chest heaved up and down.

  “Do you have water? You need water.” I looked through the second bag she’d been carrying, which had fallen to the ground when she stopped running.

  The canteen was empty.

  “I’ve been… I’ve been looking for days…” she whispered, eyes closed, head back against the tree.

  “Looking for what?” I touched the back of my hand to her forehead to check for temperature.

  She had to be sick. Insane and sick.

  “The Fold. I… didn’t know how to find it without the rest of them. The Council. I couldn’t see the way anymore. I couldn’t see the way.” She sank to the ground, legs folding under her.

  I looked around, trying to discern the location of the running water I could barely hear.

  There had to be a stream somewhere, a brook. “I’ll get water. You stay here. Do not move. Understood?”

  She nodded, eyes still closed.

  I was starting to get my wits about me. Waking up after being in stasis for so long was never easy, but being forced out of it and wrenched into the present time was a nightmare. And barely having been given enough blood to function and regain my energy simply didn’t cut it.

  Having to think on my feet when half of my consciousness was still stuck in a century-long sleep was like moving through molasses.

  No matter how hard I’d struggled, I had only gotten myself stuck worse and worse in overlapping thoughts and memories.

  But things were clearing up.

  I focused on the sound of running water and following it until I caught sight of a babbling brook whose water was crystal clear and inviting.

  I almost wished my new witch had come with me so she could take a dip, maybe clean herself off a bit. Her stench was like a cloud which hung around me even when I wasn’t in her presence anymore. I could still smell her, and the scent made my nose wrinkle in distaste.

  Bending to fill the canteen, I splashed the icy cold water on my face and enjoyed the way my skin tingled. I was alive again, even if that meant only being half-alive. More monster than man.

  I splashed water on the back of my neck and enjoyed the brisk sensation which helped cool my overheated thoughts.

  She was waiting for me when I got back to her, just as I had asked, resting with her eyes closed. She would’ve been a beautiful woman if she took care of herself. I had obviously made her acquaintance when she wasn’t feeling her best. When I guided the mouth of the canteen to her lips, she drank with a happy groan until water ran over her chin and down her throat.

  Sloppy, like everything else about her.

  “Better,” she sighed with a weak smile. “Forgive me. I’ve been looking such a long time. I haven’t been able to truly rest in so long. I still can’t, not until my mission is complete, but having you with me will make things so much easier.”

  I sat nearby, facing her, always aware of the sounds around me. The birds, the animals, the rustling of the leaves above our heads.

  She was my charge now, and I had to protect her. Even if it meant protecting her from herself.

  “What were you looking for? What’s your mission? And how am I supposed to help you?” I spoke slowly, calmly, no matter how much I wanted to yell in her face and ask why she had to make me part of whatever it was she dealt
with.

  Just like a witch, so self-centered, acting without thinking. Didn’t she know what would happen to me if anybody found out I left ahead of schedule? Without an assignment?

  “I need to find him. Ralf.”

  “Ralf?” I leaned away from her. That name hadn’t come up for me in hundreds of years, though his presence hung over everything I did. “What do you want with my Sire?”

  Her smile was sweet but tired. “I want to live the life we were always supposed to have together. I love him. I need to be with him. And you’re going to help me find him, because I’ve imprinted on you and you must.”

  2

  Alexander

  I reeled slightly as her words sank in, and her smile never wavered—though it looked slightly sympathetic.

  “I apologize for involving you in this,” she said, as though she were reading my mind, “but there was no other way I could come up with to find him. I need the help of one of the vampires he turned, so many centuries ago. And, of course, I’ll need protection as I travel. I’ve had so many close calls in the time since I set out to find The Fold.”

  When I found my voice, I croaked, “How do you know about The Fold? How did you know to look here for vampires at all?”

  “Oh, Alexander. It’s me. Claudia. You don’t remember me at all? Do I look so different?” She pushed her hair back with both hands and twisted it into a bun on the back of her head. “When we last met, I wore it this way. That was back in the early Victorian days, the last time you awoke and imprinted.”