Blood From a Silver Cross 4 Read online

  BLOOD FROM A SILVER CROSS

  Lying on the ground, right beside my motorcycle, was a body. Blood pooled around him and beneath my tires. Blank eyes stared at the sky above our heads. His throat had been opened from ear to ear and a silver cross lay smoldering in his forehead. He was quite clearly dead.

  I didn’t have time to see much else. A growl came from behind me and I spun around to find half the bar’s patrons had spilled out onto the lot. Feral yellow eyes were looking past me to the body on the ground, at the blood that had ceased pumping. The wolf ’s nostrils flared as he took in the scent.

  It pushed him over the edge.

  He started to shift....

  Books by E.S. Moore

  TO WALK THE NIGHT

  TAINTED BLOOD, TAINTED NIGHT

  BLESSED BY A DEMON’S MARK

  BLOOD FROM A SILVER CROSS

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Blood From A Silver Cross

  E.S. MOORE

  eKENSINGTON BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  BLOOD FROM A SILVER CROSS

  Books by E.S. Moore

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  This one is for all of my friends and family. Without you,

  I wouldn’t have gotten this far.

  1

  Ethan drummed his fingers on the table in a steady staccato. He eyed me warily, doing his best to watch me without actually looking directly at me. He was chewing his lower lip. Every few seconds he would glance down at the glass sitting between us.

  I looked at it and grimaced. The concoction was a deep blue easing into purple. It smelled like something he might have fished out of a sewer after a flood. The glass itself was turning a light blue as if it were absorbing the liquid it contained.

  Yeah, I was so not drinking that.

  “Come on, Kat,” Ethan urged. “I’m sure it doesn’t taste as bad as it smells.”

  I glared at him. At least he had the decency to look away before grinning.

  I reached out and gently touched the glass with my fingertips. It felt oddly warm. I knew for a fact Ethan hadn’t heated it up. The outside of the glass felt slick, almost as if I were actually touching the ooze inside.

  I withdrew my hand without picking up the glass. I had a sudden vision of being a little kid again, sick with a cold. My mom would shove a tiny cup of vile blue cold medicine into my hand. I would steadfastly refuse to drink it even though I knew it would make me feel better. That taste . . . it just wasn’t worth it.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Thinking of the old days always brought on a twinge of pain and loss. Everyone who’d been a part of my life when I was a kid was dead. My brother, Thomas, was the last to go. He was buried in the backyard, like a family pet.

  I glanced out of the glass back door and sighed. I couldn’t see the tree he was buried under from where I sat in the dining room, but I knew it was there. The world was in full bloom outside. The leafy trees surrounding my property hid the view from me. Winter was long past and life had gone on after the nightmare of the last few months.

  My gaze traveled to the worn path that led to the forested slope. I’d walked to and from Thomas’s grave so many times, I was starting to wonder if I should just pave it and get it over with. He deserved that at least.

  Ethan cleared his throat and I turned back to him. He had a concerned look on his face that had nothing to do with the glass between us. He knew what I’d been thinking.

  “I’m fine,” I said, reaching for the glass as if to prove it. This time when my fingers touched the slick surface, I didn’t pull away.

  I didn’t bring it to my lips, either.

  “I could add some cinnamon or mint or something,” Ethan said. “I’m not sure how it would react with some of the, uh, other ingredients in there.” He made a strange laughing sound that only served to make me more nervous. “It would at least make it smell better.”

  “What exactly is in here?”

  “This and that. It’s probably better if you didn’t know.”

  Like that was going to make me want to drink it.

  But I’d promised him I’d try. This was his third attempt at finding a blood substitute for me since I’d told him he could. He’d been working long hours over the last few weeks, trying to come up with something that worked.

  So far, his efforts had been in vain. The first two attempts hadn’t tasted too bad, but they’d done nothing to curb my hunger. This—I didn’t even want to consider what this stuff might do to me.

  I pulled the glass a little closer. It moved easily over the wooden table. A sudden urge to keep pulling until the glass toppled to the floor almost overtook me. I managed to keep from doing it, but it was close.

  I groaned as the cloying smell of the blue liquid intensified. Someone behind me chuckled.

  I glanced back to see Jeremy Lincoln leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans with no shoes or socks. His hair was mussed with sleep, but it didn’t dim the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  He gestured to me with his one remaining arm and grinned. “Go ahead. I have to see this.”

  I glowered at him and turned away. Jeremy had lost his arm the night we’d captured Thomas in a doomed attempt to save my brother from his own blood. I felt guilty about his lost appendage, but if he kept it up, I was going to make him eat his remaining one.

  I sighed as dramatically as I could and picked up the glass. The liquid sloshed around in a sort of jiggly, ponderous motion. It was so thick, chances were good I’d have to chew it to make it go down.

  It was looking less and less appetizing by the moment.

  “Kat,” Ethan said, “if this works, you won’t have to feed ever again.”

  “I know that,” I snapped. Why was I being such a baby about this? I’ve stood in puddles of blood and gore before and had barely batted an eyelash.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” he went on. “I didn’t taste it or anything, but I was assured you’ll suffer no long-term ill effects from it.”

  The glass went back to the table. “No long-term effects?” I glared at him. “What’s going to happen in the short term?”

  Ethan reddened. “There might not be any.”

  “Ethan . . .”

  “Seriously,” he said with a shaky laugh. “You might have a bad taste in your mouth for a few weeks and your tongue might turn blue, but if it works, it would be worth it, don’t you think?”

  “A few weeks?”

  He looked away.

  I groaned and clenched my hand tightly over the glass. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to go through with this.

  I raised the glass to my lips and tipped it so that some of the thick goop rolled down. I closed my eyes against the tears that immediately filled them. The smell was so bad, it was stinging my eyes. I
’d have an easier time drinking from a public toilet.

  The gunk pooled against my lips, but I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth and actually drink it. I mean, I could drink blood from people who hadn’t bathed in their lives, yet I couldn’t bring myself to drink this? My priorities were seriously screwed up.

  Jeremy grunted another laugh and the steps creaked as he turned and walked back up them. I gave him a one-finger salute with my free hand, though I knew he’d already gone.

  “You have to drink it all for it to work,” Ethan urged, leaning forward as if to get a better view.

  I parted my lips and the sludge oozed into my mouth.

  The taste was instantaneous. It was like dumping raw sewage in my mouth, yet I somehow managed to choke down the first swallow. It burned all the way down.

  I gagged and slammed the glass down. I’d only managed a quarter of the contents and knew chances were good I wouldn’t be able to finish the rest.

  I tried to breathe normally, but could still smell the stuff. It permeated everything. I burped and something thick and slimy bubbled up with it.

  “Oh God.”

  Ethan recoiled as I leapt to my feet. My chair crashed against the wall behind me and I nearly tripped over it as it bounced into my path on the way to the stairs.

  I’m not going to make it! I’m not going to make it! The thought repeated over and over in my head like a mantra.

  A thick, wet burp filled my mouth and I started making gagging, choking sounds. I hit the stairs at a near run and slipped on the bottom step. My shins cracked hard on the stairs, but I didn’t let it stop me. I crawled the rest of the way up on all fours.

  “Kat?” Ethan called from the bottom of the stairs.

  I ignored him. If I stopped now, he was cleaning up the mess.

  I somehow reached the top of the stairs without puking all over myself. I used the bathroom doorknob to pull myself to my feet and then tried to turn it.

  It was locked.

  “Occupied,” came Jeremy’s voice from the other side. It sounded like he was laughing.

  “Glurg.” Thick gunk filled my mouth and I spun toward my bedroom. My eyes were watering so badly now, I could hardly see. I bounced off the doorframe as I bolted into the bedroom. I staggered against my bed and then scrambled toward my private bathroom.

  Made it just in time.

  I buried my face in the bowl as everything I’d eaten in what felt like the last year came up. Ethan’s concoction stuck to my teeth and no matter how many times I spit and gagged, I couldn’t get it out of my mouth and throat.

  “Kat?” Ethan said from the doorway.

  I looked up, saw the concern in his eye, and growled. I scooted away from the toilet enough so that I could reach the door with my foot, and slammed it closed in his face.

  I crawled back to the toilet and leaned over it as another bout of retching overwhelmed me.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, his voice muffled by the door. There was a heavy thump as he apparently slammed his forehead against the wood. “I didn’t mean for it to . . . I should have . . . ugh . . .”

  My stomach emptied for a third time. I leaned there for a good minute, panting while trying not to smell or taste anything. I reached up with a shaky hand and flushed down the bluish mess.

  “Kat, I’m so, so sorry.” Ethan was babbling apologies nearly nonstop now. “I think I know what went wrong this time. I’m sure I can fix it. I just need more time. I can do this. Oh man, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, standing. I wobbled over to the sink, grabbed the mouthwash, and gulped down two swallows, hoping it would quell some of the vile burps I knew would haunt me for the rest of the night.

  Weeks? Did he say weeks?

  I spat out my third mouthful and leaned over the sink. My throat was raw and I could still taste the bluish goop. No amount of mouthwash was going to mask that taste.

  Ethan fell silent on the other side of the door. I knew he was still there because I could hear him breathing. I was just happy he’d quit apologizing.

  I gave it another five minutes to be sure I wasn’t going to throw up again before I left the bathroom. I opened the door and found Ethan sitting on my bed. I walked over and plopped down beside him. My legs were shaky and my stomach kept doing flips, but I thought the worst was over.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “I said it was fine.”

  “I’ll do better the next time.”

  I looked at him. Skepticism must have been all over my face because he looked away, face reddening in embarrassment.

  “I can do this,” he said. “I mean, I’m trying to do something here that no one else has managed to do. If I can just figure this out, then maybe it’ll help others, not just you.” He picked at his fingernails.

  I looked away. What could I tell him? So far, the only thing that had ever helped curb my hunger was the blood bags Levi had given me, and really, they weren’t much of an improvement over hunting. They might sate my hunger for a little while, but they tasted like shit and didn’t last nearly as long as fresh blood.

  Besides, you had to have someone willing to donate enough blood to keep the fridge full. I didn’t have that luxury and I wasn’t about to ask anyone to volunteer.

  “You’ll figure it out,” I said. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d go through just about anything if Ethan could find a way to keep me from having to feed. I was tired of having to kill just so I didn’t go on a hunger-induced rampage. I was struggling enough with the rage that my vampire caused. Taking away the hunger would make dealing with it much, much easier.

  Ethan sagged next to me. “Thank you,” he said, sounding immensely relieved.

  “For what?”

  “For understanding.”

  I looked over at him and he gave me a small smile.

  A short burst of music came from down the hall. It cut off almost immediately and I realized it must have been Jeremy’s cell phone. The werewolf was the only person in the house to own one.

  I frowned, knowing who had to be calling. It was the only person to ever call him, as far as I knew.

  “So, it might be a few weeks before I’ll have something else ready for you to try,” Ethan went on. “I’ve got to find the right balance, I think.” He paused and cocked a brow at me. “Aside from the taste, can you tell me anything else about the experience? Are you hungry?”

  I gave him a What in the hell do you think? look.

  “Right,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He started to stand, but just then, the bathroom door down the hall crashed open. Jeremy ran toward us, trying to button his pants with his one hand without tripping all over himself. His cell was sticking out of his pocket in a way that said he hadn’t been too careful when he’d shoved it in.

  I rose, tense. Something had happened.

  He entered the bedroom just as his button snapped. He looked wildly around for a moment, like he fully expected there to be someone else in the room, before his eyes settled on me.

  “We have to go,” he said. He started to turn away.

  “Why?” I planted myself firmly in the middle of the room.

  Jeremy turned back and frowned. “It’s important.” He said it like he thought it was all I needed to know.

  I clenched my jaw and crossed my arms. “What did he want?” I already knew the Luna Cult Denmaster, Jonathan Alucard, had been the caller. While I appreciated what he’d done for me, I wasn’t about to take off running just because he said to—not without an explanation.

  Jeremy’s hand went to his cell. He pushed it deeper into his pocket instead of drawing it out as I thought he originally intended. “Something has happened.”

  “I figured that much out on my own. At the Den?”

  He nodded.

  My mind raced. What could have happened that would have Jonathan calling me?

  “Did he tell you what?”

  Jeremy’s eyes flickered to Ethan
and he swallowed. “Sort of.”

  I tapped my foot.

  Jeremy sighed and his face tightened. “A Cult werewolf was killed,” he said. “We have to go.”

  Ethan sucked in his breath next to me.

  “Let me get my things.” My words were clipped because I didn’t want to let anyone else know how much the thought of someone dying at the Den bothered me. I’d finally given in and allowed myself to care about the people there—werewolves included—and now something had happened to one of them.

  “You need to get ready too,” Jeremy said, turning to Ethan. “He wants you to come along.”

  “Me?” Ethan’s eyes widened. “Uh . . .”

  I grabbed my leather clothes, knowing I might need them. Chances were good Jonathan wanted me to find and kill whoever killed his wolf.

  “He’s staying here,” I said as I tossed the bundle on the bed.

  “But Jonathan said . . .”

  “I don’t give a fuck what he said.” I stripped off my shirt and both men looked away. “Ethan stays here. I can take care of this on my own without putting him in harm’s way.”

  Jeremy hesitated a moment before turning and walking out the bedroom, back stiff. He was pissed, but I wasn’t going to drag Ethan out of the safety of the house for something like this.

  “Thanks,” Ethan said. He was pale and trembling. He might have managed to leave the house to save Jonathan’s life, but it didn’t mean he was going to keep doing it. His fear of the outside world wasn’t something he could turn off and on at will. It was a part of him and I respected that. I wasn’t about to make him do something so fully against his nature.

  He glanced my way just as my pants hit the floor. The blood returned to his face as he looked away. “I’ll, uh, go get your weapons.”

  He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get away.

  I got dressed as quickly as I could manage and headed downstairs. Ethan had my gear laid out for me. I strapped on my belt and shoulder holster, complete with sword, gun, and knives. I threw my long leather coat over that and checked my pockets for the silver packets I kept there but rarely used.