Blood Hunt (Codex Blair Book 2) Read online

  Blood Hunt

  Book Two of the Codex Blair Series

  Izzy Shows

  Contents

  Mailing List

  Also by Izzy Shows

  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

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Also by Izzy Shows

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 Izzy Shows

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  Cover Design by James T. Egan of Bookfly Design LLC

  BookflyDesign.com

  ISBN: 1541277856

  ISBN-13: 978-1541277854

  For my father, who never once questioned my dreams and always believed in me. My mother, who taught me the freedom found in creative pursuits. For Josh, my boyfriend, my biggest cheerleader, and my most devout fan. I couldn’t have gotten here without any of you.

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  Also by Izzy Shows

  The Codex Blair Series

  Grave Mistake

  Blood Hunt

  1

  I turned along the dark alley, rolling my shoulders back to relieve some of the tension that had built up there. I had been patrolling—a year and a half later and I still found it crazy that I was the type of person who patrolled now—and tonight the tension had grown at the base of my neck and in my shoulders. That usually meant something was going to happen, but there had been a rare night or two where I had gone home having found nothing.

  “Breathe, Blair. You can do this,” I told myself. “You’ve been doing this for months now, it’s no different.”

  I was geared up, dressed to the nines for battle, and I knew that should make me feel better. I glanced down at the rings on my right hand—one on each finger, each a different Celtic rune, each a different type of shield. I flexed my fingers, allowing myself a measure of comfort. Around my waist, and stretching down to my thighs, I wore a harness that held a wand on either side, one for fire and one for ice. The cuff, for strength, and a chain that wrapped around the left wrist and between my fingers to generate a force of wind, were both sources of reassurance as well. But it was the tattoo on my back that gave me the most protection of all—a large piece depicting my skin ripping to show dragon scales beneath. It covered my entire back, from the nape of my neck to my waist. It had taken ages to complete, and even more time just to find someone capable of inlaying the groundwork for a tattoo that could hold magic and be replenished multiple times. I’d have to go in for touch ups as it faded—which it would if it took too much damage—but so far it had held up well.

  Not that it had been hit by anything you could classify as heavy, but still.

  The sounds of a struggle reached me and I immediately switched into combat mode, yanking out the fire rod and flexing my left hand up, palm facing out, as I bolted down the alley. As it turned to the left, I was greeted with the sight of what looked like a mugging, or a regular civilian attack. I frowned, hesitating, because I could smell the power inside the man, but he looked so normal. I pushed the thought out of my mind, everyone looked normal, and strode forward.

  “What is going on here?” I snapped, darting my eyes from the man to the woman and back again. Her face held a clear plea for help, eyebrows raised and knit together, her lips turned down, her face flushed. “I rather think your advances are unwanted.”

  The man turned towards me, and I saw his fangs then.

  Vampire.

  I had yet to engage in a fight with a vampire—Dudley kept his people firmly under control, and there was no point in messing around where it wasn’t yet needed when just about every week there was something else going on. Never big, mind you, I hadn’t had to deal with anything like the winter a year and a half before.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, flexing the uncovered muscles visible due to my tank top, and tapped my foot impatiently. “Well?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”

  I ground my teeth. Aidan would never have had to deal with this kind of insolence, his presence alone had commanded respect. I remembered the way the lackeys had responded when he’d strode into the warehouse that first night. Terror had been in their eyes; panic had spurred their movements. I had been so ignorant then.

  But no one knew me by name, practically no one even knew what I looked like. I had been building my reputation from the ground up, and it hadn’t exactly been a steady climb. Oh, sure, people knew about the fight that had gone down at Tyburn Tree, everyone had heard of the explosion that had gone off like a nuclear blast. But they also seemed to be operating under the impression that the Wizard—yep, everyone thought it was a full-blown Wizard, so suck on that—who had done it had died in the fallout. Some people even thought Aidan had done it, that was the more popular view. I faltered between being OK with that and being irked that no one knew what I’d done, but it was for the best at the end of the day. I didn’t want anyone to know the power Mal had given me, that was the kind of knowledge that could go bad fast.

  “I have laid claim to this town and its citizens. No one kills here,” I said.

  “I kill here,” he said.

  “Well, then I’ll kill you,” I said with a blank gaze. I lowered my hands, wand gripped tight. I needed him to step away from the girl first, or else she could get caught in the crossfire. I wasn’t entirely certain of my ability to kill the vampire, I didn’t have a stake on hand, I hadn’t made any stakes at all yet. Again, I hadn’t had to go up against a vampire yet and had focused all my attention on getting my normal gear ready as soon as was possible.

  Using raw magic hurt like hell, and foci softened that blow.

  He grinned, clearly willing to use the woman as a human shield, and did not step away from her.

  “I’ll give you to the count of three,” I said. “One…”

  He didn’t move, but I saw a flicker of indecision cross his face. He didn’
t know who I was, but I was a strong person with a wand in hand clearly intent on kicking his ass. Apparently, he had started to take me seriously.

  “Two…”

  His lips drew back in a snarl, exposing his fangs even more, bending his head closer to the woman.

  I frowned, briefly wondering if he intended to bite her. I didn’t want to find out. I flicked my wand towards his feet. “Incendium,” I said, a soft murmur, and watched flames dart towards his feet. The magic did not hurt coming from the wand, it had already hurt going into it. The magic moved like a serpent, carefully crafted, unlike the blasts I’d previously pulled off when using raw magic.

  It snaked around his feet, crawling up his legs.

  “Three.”

  He yelped and jumped away from the girl, glaring at me. “You will regret that.”

  “Somehow, I doubt it,” I said, grinning.

  He lunged for me, arms outstretched.

  I ducked, spinning around and kicking my leg up at the same time to slam into his chest. Oh, did I not mention? Yeah, I’d been training ever since the necromancer attack. Magic drains you, the extra muscle meant extra strength and energy. And the extra skills meant I was less likely to die in a fight, which was bloody important.

  Spinning to face him again, I took a blow to the chin, saw stars for a moment, before I pulled my left arm back. “Vis.” I snapped out my arm, slamming my fist into his gut.

  He doubled over, spit flying out of his mouth and onto the ground. I looked down at him for a while, grim satisfaction on my face. I jumped, spun, kicking my leg out and using my momentum to smash into his face. “Vis,” I said at the same moment, invoking the tattoo on my ankle. I thrilled at the warmth that engulfed my leg when it activated, enjoyed the sound that was likely his cheekbone crunching.

  He lay on the ground, panting for a moment before he dragged a hand underneath him, seconds away from standing up again.

  I yanked my gun out of the back waistband of my jeans, took aim, and put a bullet in his head. No point getting messy when the mundane way will do.

  I turned towards the girl still cowering against the wall. “You OK?” I asked.

  She bit her lip. “I-I think s-so,” she said, stuttering the words in time with her shaking bottom lip. “What was—” Her eyes went wide and she abruptly shut her mouth, raising a quivering finger to point behind me.

  I groaned, shaking my head slowly. Why do they get back up? Why do the bloody monsters always get back up?

  I turned around and saw the vampire standing behind me, a lopsided grin on his face from the broken bone. It was made creepier by the bullet hole in his forehead.

  “I’m counting that as two points for me,” I said, gesturing at his face. “And nil points for you.”

  He charged me, but I was ready for it. I had my left hand up in a fist. “Vis!” I shouted, and he impaled himself on my fist, my hand opening to grasp his heart.

  OK, this was simultaneously so cool and so disgusting. I could feel his heart pulsing in my hand.

  His eyes had gone wide, wild, and his mouth was agape. An interesting wheezing sound emitted from his mouth, and I tilted my head idly to the side as I looked up at him.

  “I warned you. I have laid claim to this town,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “Incendium.”

  It bubbled up from within my core, heating my insides and pouring down my arm like liquid fire as I pushed it out of my hand and incinerated his heart. The rest of him caught fire, and I held on until he was cooked and charred. I pulled my hand out of his corpse and it dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. I felt the mark on my wrist pulsing, blood rushing through my head for a brief, euphoric moment.

  Facing the woman again, I shook my arm out to dislodge any blood or goo that might have stuck on me while inside him.

  “Now then. Let’s try that again,” I said. “Are you OK?”

  She was staring at me like I was a demon, which just wasn’t right. OK. I hadn’t used any of the power that Mal had given me, I had won this fight fair and square and done it entirely with my own magic and on my own merits. It could not be attributed to anything demonic, but she was still looking at me like I was the monster.

  OK, I suppose it’s fair enough to feel that way if you just watched someone stick their hand inside another someone and then light them on fire from the inside out. But I was her saviour, wasn’t I?

  Sometimes, you just can’t win.

  “I…” She shook her head, still gawking at me. “I think, I think I’m good. I’ll just, uh…” She started to edge away, but her eyes were riveted on the corpse in front of her. She sucked in a breath, and then another, and another.

  Ah, fuck, don’t have a breakdown, please don’t, and don’t puke on my gear either—

  She slid down the wall, gasping down air, her eyes impossibly wide and almost completely white. “Oh, God.” She shook her head, hugging herself, wheezing as she pulled in too much air. “Oh, God, he’s dead. You killed him.”

  “Did you forget the part where he was trying to kill you? I could have sworn I walked in just as he was about to rip your throat out.” I pointed out that salient fact. Not the most tactful way I could have put it, but that was me. “You’re welcome for saving your life, by the way.” I waved my hands around at the alley. “I did just pull a vampire off you.”

  Her eyes locked onto me now. “But you, you killed him.”

  “Yes. I did. We’re going in circles now.”

  “He was going to kill me!”

  I stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was just stupid or if it was the shock talking. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume shock.

  “Yes…” I let my voice trail off. “But you’re OK. You’re alive.”

  “Oh, my heart!” She gasped, letting go of her sides to press a hand against her chest.

  “Fuck,” I said. “Come on, let me take you home. I’ll get you cleaned up, a stiff drink to get your nerves back too.”

  She stared at me for a moment. “You saved me.” Her voice was a whisper as she fidgeted with her hair.

  I stretched out a hand and when she took it, pulled her to her feet. She staggered and I stowed my wand in its holster so that I could wrap an arm around her shoulder, she did the same.

  I had no idea what I was going to say to her to convince her to keep her mouth shut.

  2

  The girl—Emma, she’d told me her name was Emma—sat on my couch. She was shivering and looking around her, taking in the living room. I still lived at Aidan’s, unwilling to give the place up. I couldn’t imagine some plucky little mundane family moving in here and erasing every memory of Aidan.

  It was hard, all the little reminders I ran into daily, but it was better than him not being remembered.

  Someone had to remember him.

  I carried two drinks out of the kitchen and held one out to her. “Here,” I said. “It’ll help. Promise.”

  Not so long ago, I had been the one sitting in terror in this living room. But I had taken a coke, not anything alcoholic, and paced around the room. I hadn’t been able to settle. She couldn’t seem to get herself together enough to even freak out properly.

  She accepted the drink and sipped it cautiously, not even asking me if there was anything in it that she should know about. She was far too trusting of me already, and I didn’t like it. But I could guess why.

  You know how baby ducks imprint on the first thing they see? Well, people who have had a traumatic experience aren’t so different. They lock on to the person who saved them and don’t let go.

  I was going to need her to let go of me.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I can’t believe that happened. Why did you have to kill him? Why didn’t you just call the police?” Her eyes judged me.

  I took a swig of my own drink and glared at the fireplace. She sounded like she didn’t understand what had happened, or what the attacker had
been. She wasn’t even asking me about how I had killed him, how I had thrown fire around, how I had leapt to inhuman heights and hit him with impossible strength.

  She didn’t seem to have focused on the magic of it at all, instead zeroing in on the human matters.

  “He wasn’t going to back down, Emma. It was self-defence,” I said. Even I knew that wasn’t entirely right, although I had killed him mid-charge.

  She nodded her head, as if accepting that explanation for the moment.

  “Emma…” I said, hesitating briefly. “We need to talk about what happened, after he attacked you.”

  Her head jerked up, and I saw it then, in her eyes. She knew what she had seen, she knew that it didn’t make sense, not within the confines of reality that she held so stringently to. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to acknowledge it most likely. I knew the way that worked, but it wasn’t something that I was going to be able to let go for the moment.

  Because maybe she let time dull her memory, maybe she convinced herself that it hadn’t happened or that it had happened a different way. But also, maybe she went home and told her husband, or her sister, or her best friend. Maybe she confided in someone and they didn’t forget what she had said, they didn’t dismiss her as crazy out of hand.

  I couldn’t take the chance that the word would get out that We existed, that magic was real and that there was a community of monsters living side by side with mundanes in London.

  It’s not that I owed the monsters anything, far from it. It was my job to make sure that no mundanes were hurt—the job that I had claimed for myself without waiting to see what would happen in Aidan’s absence. It was blatantly obvious that someone needed to do it. Emma was proof of that.

  She was looking down at her drink again, not able to face me it seemed.

  “What do you mean? You pulled him off me and shot him.” She sounded firm.