The Hunt (Of Blood and Magic Book 2) Read online

  Elena floated alongside her purple orb, leading the way. Her thick, dark hair looked gorgeous as the golden rays of sunlight bounced off it. It shined like a well-oiled kettle, and gleamed like an enchanted waterfall, pouring across her shoulders in waves. They passed a training concourse, watching hopeful young vampire hunters testing their shooting skills at humanoid figures with precision boards nailed to their trunks. The concourse was carpeted with soft grass, and huge instructors barked commands at the young lads, so much so that some of them shivered behind their guns. Timou recalled his early days of training at the Transylvania Academy, and how most of his comrades had shivered just like these kids. A lot of them had approached him, wondering about the source of his calm collectiveness. They admired his strength and confidence and had even asked him for tips. He had tried to be as courteous as possible, but he had had nothing for them. They hadn’t known that he had felt all the fear a man could ever feel in the first twelve years of life, and he couldn’t blame them of course, but what would he have told them? 'Return to your mother's womb, get reborn as the last child in a family of six boys and be a kid with stunted growth who is hated and scorned and derided by everyone including his father and brother, and then practice with weapons twice your body weight in abandoned millet fields and ensure you experience a massive growth spurt at age twelve, and then all will be well?’

  He had had nothing of note to offer them as tips. Only bland, generic bits of advice.

  His eyes ventured in the direction of Elena's ass. He admired their sensuous curves, how they exploded like fireworks from the curves of her hips; how they felt when he squeezed them as his cock fucked her pussy. He wondered about Elena's gifts, how tremendous they were, both physical and magical. What had she done to be so blessed in every respect?

  Like water bags, her breasts stood firm, swaying softly from being aroused. As he slowly grabbed her mountain of sweetness, they stiffened with her nipples pointing rock hard against his firm hands. They morphed like gelatin when he squeezed them, taking any shape and form his hands prescribed. Her whole being was everything, but her cups of love; they were so much more. Erect, they pointed straight up at him like handguns, and he knew he could suckle on them all day long and not get tired.

  Each time they fucked, Elena would tell him that there wouldn't be the next time. He had understood that her desire for control was intrinsic, and had never protested, though he had always found the statement uncomfortable. Yet, with each time they fucked, her resolve seemed to relax more readily. Was she falling for him? He really wanted to know, as if the answer was in the affirmative he would be totally elated. He had fallen for her a long time ago.

  As they approached the street that led down to the High Commission, he thought about the Lukai situation. If he was back in Transylvania, then the High Commission had to act fast. There was no room for them to be slack on his issue. If experience had taught him anything, it was that Lukai was an extremely powerful and extremely dangerous criminal. Beyond making him pay for what he had done to Seydoo, Timou felt the burden of responsibility on his chest to right the wrongs of history and restore balance permanently. Transylvania would never again be assured of true peace if Lukai walked a free vampire. They had to stop him, not merely for the sake of a vengeance drive, but more importantly for the greater good.

  They had reached corner point, the heart of Transylvania, and host to the Transylvania High Commission. The glass paneling of the vast entrance that led into the reception and sitting area of the seven-hundred-floored skyscraper was visible from the turning where they stood, manned by a thick swath of security officials. Elena’s fists tightened for the umpteenth time and Timou shivered in the presence of cold wind, sensing a storm coming. He watched Elena’s eyes narrow and her orb, for the first time, turn a shade of bright orange. He had only ever seen it glow its traditional purple, or violet when Elena was in the heat of battle or black when she was in one of her occasional moods. He couldn’t even tell what orange symbolized, but it seemed decidedly ominous.

  He wanted to ask if Elena was okay, but before he could even compose the words Elena was on the move again. Her orb whipped past his ear, buzzing with a sense of purpose. It suddenly seemed malicious; murderous, even.

  They passed a fleet of High Commission cars, which vampire hunters loved to ride, and a cheetah on a leash in a wooden box being dragged out of a parked truck by two Lykae. It’s fate would be decided on the seven hundredth floor, but Timou could almost bet that it would be injected with the elixir of regeneration and released into the enchanted forest in the vampire hunters’ training area, serving as a good sport before exploding into dust in a fortnight.

  He watched eyes widen as they watched them approaching, especially at the sight of Elena, who looked recharged and brimming with raw power. The last they had heard, she was unconscious in a jungle, knocked out and skirting the edges of death. Now, she looked like she had absorbed the sun and was now wielding its power. Her skin radiated cosmic energy, and her floating orb gleamed with an unseen radiance. Her supercilious gaze and arrogant gait were back, and more potent than ever. As the lieutenants spread across the exterior of the towering building bowed their greetings, she simply waved her hand in a gesture of acknowledgment. They didn’t seem to mind, however. She had apparently earned her stripes. Not only had she earned herself an indubitable name as one of the most gifted witches in history and head of the most accomplished military squad in all of Transylvania, but she had further faced the dreaded Lukai and lived.

  Timou heard them whispering the one bit of information that Elena had withheld earlier in the inn. Lukai had slain three young lieutenants at the south doorways when he arrived last night. The one soldier who had escaped had returned to regale them with details of Lukai’s tremendous new abilities; how he moved with the speed of light and sliced heads clean of shoulders before anyone could catch a whiff of his movement. It was as though with each passing day his powers only grew. Timou hoped their new teammate would be at least nearly as great and skilled as Seydoo had been, else, they would be in a serious fix.

  The wave of greetings continued up until the main entrance door, which was as wide as sixteen elder werewolves and cast in metal and glass. A bulk of the greetings were directed at Elena, but Timou didn’t mind; he had lived in the sidelines for so long in his life that he had learned to stop caring about it. Plus, he was perfectly content with being invisible, as long as it was Elene getting the glory.

  The reception and sitting area overflowed with werewolves, hunters, and witches, some of them injured and wrapped in bandages and being readied to be wheeled in for the healers, some of them fidgety from awaiting the results of their Academy exams. The High Commission had developed a tradition that they considered effective but which Timou had sometimes considered mean. After spending three years in the Transylvania Academy and completing their final examinations, the transcripts of High Commission hopefuls would be released instantly, but at the reception of the grand High Commission building. If they passed, they would be welcomed immediately into the fold and taken in to join the welcome party. If they didn’t, they would be escorted directly out through the exit door to their left. It was tough, maybe even brutal, but the High Commission thought it worked.

  Elena’s nose shot up as she took a turn beside the welcome desk and made for the elevator. Elevators extended to infinity at both sides of them. She pressed a circular button and a white light filled the edges of it. The silvery, metal, digital floor counter had dinged and the thick metal doors had slid open to reveal a vacant lift. The High Commission had sent so many lieutenants out on missions in the past week that traffic within the building now occurred in trickles. Elena floated into it and Timou followed, right away.

  “Floor six hundred and fifty,” she called to the machine, her voice cool and confident. The elevator ascended sharply, destabilizing Timou for a moment. Elena maintained perfect balance though, her stance unperturbed. They reached the six hundred and
fiftieth floor in less than three minutes, as there were no stops on the way. The elevator door slid open to reveal their living quarters; an array of oak doors with golden number tags and brass handles, all leading into expansive rooms with large beds and personal gym areas.

  Elena’s room was the fourteenth, Timou’s the twenty-third. They had barely walked a few feet when they noticed Celine stepping out of room twelve with her cloak burning bright pink. She stopped in her tracks as she sighted Elena, whose face reddened for a moment upon seeing her, before stabilizing into an expression of pure indifference.

  “You’re back,” Celine called, her voice clearly trying to hide its surprise. “Welcome.” Celine made as if to hug Elena, but Elena cringed like her mother’s touch would burn her skin, causing her mother to retract her gesture, composing herself in a split second and acting like it never happened. Timou glanced from mother to daughter and back to daughter, dazed by the unfolding drama.

  “You don’t need to acknowledge my return, mother,” Elena’s voice had hot coals in it, “I’m sure you have important High Commission business to attend to, so run along now.”

  “Don’t get smart with me,” Celine rebuked, her voice losing the compassion it had seconds ago, “I knew you’d be fine.”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I knew you wouldn’t care.” Then, like an afterthought, she added, “Also, why sound so shocked to see me if you were indeed confident that I would return?”

  Celine blushed ketchup red up to her ears as her daughter’s words stung her with the force of rampaging bees.

  “You’re in my way, mother, and I really need to rest.”

  Celine shifted to the side and, without another word, Elena floated beyond her and made for room fourteen, unlocking the door without moving her hands.

  ∞∞∞

  Chapter 8

  THE HOLE

  The sun took its time to appear the next morning, which suited Luke just fine. As a descendant of Ambrogio, the first King of Vampires, he possessed the rare ability to be able to linger under the sun without exploding into dust. His ancestor, realizing his own deficiency, had entered a contract with the Lady of the Sky to mutate his DNA, ever so slightly, so he and his descendants would forever be gifted with immunity from the sun. Lukai had been fortunate to emerge from this venerable gene pool, and he had appreciated this ability all his life, but it wasn’t flawless. While his genes had blessed him with his rare gift and he could do what only a handful of vampires could, he had found that staying in the sun tended to burn after about an hour of consistent exposure. Now, the burn would be present mostly as an annoying stinging sensation, like powdered pepper over an open wound, so it was generally bearable. Still, he would rather not endure that uncomfortable sensation, especially not now that his mind was filled with dark clouds of uncertainty. The sun wasn’t up? Good riddance.

  Becca seemed to have a new spring to her steps this morning. She bounced on her heels, whistling a happy tune. Luke found her high spirits contagious. He recalled last night in the car, how it had felt, exploding his semen into her as she melted beneath him, how the wave of pleasure had split his skull in two as their sweating bodies melded into one. And then she had asked him if he thought they had just made a baby, and he had felt the breath seize in his throat, choking him, coalescing into lumps of nothingness that threatened to suffocate him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the idea of them having a baby together. In fact, ‘like’ didn’t begin to qualify how he felt about the very idea of it. Bringing a new life into the world would be a dream come true; a depth of accomplishment that even the conquest of seven kingdoms couldn’t rival. When she had asked, his mind had been filled with the image of a boy, his shock of silky gold hair billowing in the wind, his face alight with a smile that mixed Becca’s sweetness with Luke’s sense of earnest conviction.

  What had terrified Luke about Becca’s question was the deep uncertainty that had swamped his mind when he thought of what a baby between them symbolized. The offspring of a powerful vampire and an ultra-rare dominatrix; a confluence of the most concentrated Vampire, Wiccan, and Hunter magic. He would be the first of his kind; an anomaly never before was seen. Would he (or she, Luke acquiesced grudgingly) be strong enough to withstand the pressures of his very identity? Would she be able to contain the undoubtedly strong powers that would swirl in her bloodstream? Would he become a target for hungry poachers and bounty hunters seeking to experiment with his blood for special magical properties? Would she be willing to accept the weight of being heir to the throne of the most powerful kingdom in all the magical realms?

  Luke realized that he was more terrified about the life of a child he wasn’t even sure would yet exist than he really should’ve been. It was almost like an unhealthy obsession. Yet, when he considered the thought of making a baby with Becca, he found that the thought enthralled him. She was so gorgeous. Their kid would be such a stunning beauty, and Luke imagined that he would stare into their kid’s eyes and get lost in them.

  “What do you sense?” Becca’s voice cut through his thoughts like a sabre.

  Her voice slightly startled him. He tuned in to his instincts, letting himself get lost in the magical frequencies around him. This was Transylvania’s heart, so it was expected that his senses were overwhelmed by a million distinct streams of magical imprints. So he got busy, sifting through the transmissions that assaulted his senses, his highly disciplined mind honing down on the frequency that hit the closest home. His ears twitched as he landed on a powerful sensation that ticked all the boxes in his mind. It was merely a magical vibration, but as Luke zeroed in on it, it became tangible, thickening, filling his mind, showering his senses so hard he could almost sense it.

  “I feel something really powerful. Its source lies North-East from here.” Luke’s steps hurried them in the desired direction. In the daylight, they were visible to the world. Becca had offered to try her hands on an invisibility spell, but they hadn’t possessed all the requirements (some of which, like a Panther’s gall bladder, were not only difficult to find but also impossible to conjure), and Luke had been of the opinion that the ritual was too dangerous. If Becca made a single error, she would be consumed by an unquenchable fire until her bones charred to carbon, and Luke couldn’t have that. Hence, here they were, searching for the hidden vampire clan in broad daylight on Transylvanian streets that crawled with High Commission soldiers. They had settled for disguises after Becca had squashed Luke’s protest with hard line logic, and later with a brush of her tits across his face. Luke had settled for an ugly red cap, which he had found in the car, and a fake nose and mustache which had caused his face to itch for hours. Becca had put on a wig with hair twisted in spiraling tendrils and a fake chin, capping it up with a wide, dusty fedora.

  Still, Luke felt that the disguises were grossly inadequate. They could only mask so much. In the end, if a High Commission lieutenant stopped them and questioned them even for a moment, Luke was certain they would be found out. Still, keeping their heads down and their eyes alert, they had blended into the motley crowd. There were Lykae pushing shopping carts along the sidewalk and witches doing yoga on grey mats in a fitness studio with a transparent outer wall. A flock of vampire hunter kids chased after a large balloon with water guns as it floated higher and higher into the sky like it had been pumped full of helium.

  The streets were bare of vehicles and Becca wondered if they were in the early stages of a curfew. The signs seemed to indicate this, especially the Lykae who were generally known to hate shopping but seemed to have taken a sudden penchant for serial shopping with personal shopping carts. She knew how the High Commission operated. They would have definitely publicized the fact that there was a terrifying danger roaming the streets of Transylvania. She was dead sure that Luke’s name would’ve been omitted, but then a state of an emergency-level set of restrictions would’ve been rolled out and people would’ve been advised to stay indoors until the threat was quelled. Hence the sudden affe
ctation for shopping.

  They reached a bend and crossed to the other side of the sparse road. They moved past the perimeter of a pub and were about to go past a café when Luke suddenly raised his right arm, signaling that they stop. They were right in front of a circular manhole, covered with a metal grate of black steel. The manhole’s covering was bland and unmarked, just like all the rest, but when Luke tried to lift it, it remained stuck, like it had been fitted into the mouth of the hole with a strong adhesive.

  “The sensation got stronger as we reached this hole. I’m confident it leads somewhere important to our quest.” Luke’s eyes blazed with earnest conviction, his lips curved in a grim expression. “We may have to break it.”

  “There will be no need for brute force,” interjected Becca, who had been feeling useless for some hours now, seeing as Luke was all alone in spearheading their tracking efforts, “I think a little poise will go a long way in keeping us concealed.”