Blood Sworn Page 4

  That had to be it.

  Renata glanced over at Jackson, who still slept soundly. Thank goodness. She was glad she hadn’t woken him—she knew how tired he’d been lately. Even though he tried to hide it, she knew how much he worried about her. And the toll it took on him.

  Renata picked up her cellphone from the nightstand. The screen’s bright light hurt her eyes, and the time read six o’clock a.m. There was no use in trying to fall back asleep. Renata knew the sunlight would already peek into the room by the time she started to drift off.

  She’d be a hot mess for her meeting with a client later today.

  Renata got out of bed, careful not to wake Jackson, and made her way downstairs. She made no effort to change out of her pajamas—a comfortable, oversized T-shirt, and sweatpants.

  Alice was already awake, with her nose stuck in a book about medicinal herbs. Renata didn’t find the sight at all surprising.

  Her cellphone in hand, she dialed Clarissa’s phone number, hoping the witch was awake.

  Clarissa’s groggy voice came through on the other end and answered gruffly, surprising her. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” Renata replied, instantly feeling guilty. She hoped she hadn’t woken her up. “Did I wake you?”

  “Nah,” Clarissa said, exaggerating the word as she stifled a yawn.

  Renata grimaced, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Clarissa was such a bad liar.

  “Besides,” Clarissa added. “Whatever you need to tell me must be important.”

  She did have a point. Renata sighed. “Why did Azazel fall from heaven?”

  He was an archangel once, which meant he had to have done something to be cast out. Perhaps knowing why he fell could shed some light on what he was planning.

  “I dunno.” Clarissa grumbled over the phone, “And we can’t ask the ancestors, even if we wanted to.”

  I could if I wanted to.

  Renata’s mind whirred. She was onto something. “We need to find out what he did and why he fell. Surely that’ll help us figure out what he’s up to.”

  “Got it,” Clarissa yawned. “Talk to you soon,” she mumbled before hanging up.

  Renata put her cellphone down on the kitchen counter and finally stopped pacing. She sighed, plopping herself onto a barstool by the breakfast bar. She had given them a nearly impossible task. How would she and Clarissa learn why Azazel fell from heaven? Where would they get that kind of information? It wasn’t like she could call God and ask.

  But, she could talk to the Nightblood ancestors. They could give her answers. Answers she might not get anywhere else.

  Desperate to distract herself and take her mind off of Azazel, his fall, the witches, and everything else running through her mind, Renata made herself comfortable on the couch, flicking through the countless channels their cable service offered. She eventually settled on an ‘80s romantic comedy she’d forgotten the name of, featuring Sandra Bullock and some guy actor she didn’t recognize. Renata was feeling a little better by the time the movie was over, although some of her anxiety still lingered.

  Veronica stumbled downstairs, into the kitchen, still dressed in her pajamas. “Good morning,” she mumbled, and blindly stuck her hand in the refrigerator, pulling out a blood bag.

  “Put that back this instant!” Edwin screeched from the top of the staircase, already dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his cropped, dirty blonde hair neatly styled. “We’re hunting today, remember?”

  Recognition flashed in Veronica’s weary topaz eyes, her short black hair sticking up in multiple places. “That’s right,” she said, putting the blood bag back into the fridge.

  A hunt.

  That would be good for her. After all, that was one of the reasons she picked this house. The land on the property was the perfect place for the House members to hunt safely. Back when they lived in Newport, she and the other House members hosted parties to attract humans and feed off of them. They never killed anyone and took less than a pint of blood from party guests until they were satisfied.

  Hunting was so much better than that. The exhilarating feeling of running at full speed, the thrill of chasing her prey—it all made Renata feel so much more alive. More alive than worrying about how much blood she’d drained from each guest, careful not to overdo it. Hunting made her feel free, her potential unhinged. The adjustment to the taste of animal blood was more than worth the cost.

  “Mind if I join you?” Renata asked, peering over the couch.

  “Sure,” Edwin said. “The more, the merrier.”

  “We should get everyone to join,” Veronica shut the refrigerator. “I know Heather was into hunting today.”

  “When is the hunt?” Renata asked and picked up the television remote, flicking through more channels.

  “Once everyone’s up,” Edwin replied, spying Heather as she came downstairs. “Morning sleeping beauty.”

  Heather casually finished buttoning up her plaid shirt, amused. “Good morning.”

  “You remembered the hunt today,” Veronica added as she noticed Heather’s outfit, seeing that she was fully dressed and ready to go.

  “Yes, and?” Heather asked, drawing out the last word, her confusion obvious.

  “She didn’t,” Edwin laughed loudly, unabashed, jabbing his thumb in Veronica’s direction.

  Veronica stormed over to Edwin and rammed her foot into his shin.

  “Ow!” he cried out, rubbing what Renata knew would later become a bruise if it hadn’t already. “What are you? Five?”

  Mariel sashayed into the room and gestured to the scene in front of her. “Now, this is what comedy looks like.”

  “Come on, man,” Wyatt patted Edwin’s shoulder, his hazel eyes full of sympathy. “You should’ve seen it coming.”

  Edwin bit his lip as he nodded, cradling his shin like a wounded animal.

  Veronica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a loud huff. “Come on, Edwin. Get over yourself. It wasn’t even that hard.”

  Edwin scowled. “Um, I beg to differ.”

  Adelaide bounced down the stairs, her long, wheat-colored hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

  “You’re up early,” Heather remarked, sitting down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” Adelaide said sheepishly. “I’ve been researching colleges.”

  Renata perked up from her slumped position. “You have?”

  “Yeah,” Adelaide replied with a grin. “I’m looking at state schools mostly, but I’m also looking into some private schools in Massachusetts.”

  “That’s great, Adelaide,” Renata said with a genuine smile.

  Adelaide was eighteen when she was turned, but finished her senior year of high school and graduated with a high GPA. After graduating, she’d taken a gap year to help adjust to her new life as a vampire and learn to control her thirst. Renata was glad to hear she finally felt comfortable applying to colleges.

  The other House members voiced their approval, and Adelaide beamed.

  “Thanks,” Adelaide said, her cheeks reddening. “I’ll need a job to pay for it, but I’m hoping for some merit scholarships.”

  “We’ll help you pay for it too,” Renata said warmly. “Are you still interested in English Literature?”

  Adelaide stole a spot on the couch next to Renata. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Good for you,” Renata squeezed Adelaide’s hand. Alexander hired private tutors to teach her as a child, but Renata herself hadn’t had the opportunity to finish college. She started, years ago, before he died, but things at the House had gotten too busy for her to manage school full time. She would make sure Adelaide had the opportunity to accomplish what she hadn’t been able to.

  A sleepy Adela meandered downstairs, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her thick hair yanked into a messy ponytail.

  “I think everyone’s awake now.” Veronica stood, pushing the barstool she’d been sitting on under the breakfast bar.

  “All right then,” Edwin sa
id and promptly led the way, heading outside.

  Giddy, Renata leaped from the couch, following him and the others.

  Outside, the sun was peeking over the tree line, and the crisp morning air filled her lungs. The breeze rippled through her hair, enveloping her with ease. She lived for this feeling.

  The only sounds disturbing her peace were the quick snippets of banter amongst the others, including Edwin and Mariel trash-talking each other while Wyatt leaned up against the house, laughing at their interaction.

  Renata sensed the tension she’d been harboring in her body and released it, ready to run. She took off in a flash, her strong legs propelling her farther and farther as she sniffed the air for her prey. The scent of her prey nearby intensified, and she could hear the animal’s beating heart as she ran faster.

  With ease, she navigated through the trees, following the strong scent of blood.

  Renata focused on the feeling of her legs stretching with each stride, pushing herself harder and harder through the woods. She felt so alive, so free, so unhinged. She released her inner predator, following her instincts as she chased her prey—an unsuspecting deer. Her fangs slipped out, poised to strike, and once she was close enough to the deer, she lunged, sinking them into its flesh.

  Her efforts had been rewarded. The taste of warm blood danced across Renata’s tongue, replenishing her weary body.

  “Lelahel.”

  The man’s voice by her ear sent shivers down her spine.

  Renata shot to her feet, ready to fight, only to find herself alone. She listened to the forest with her acute hearing, detecting nothing out of the ordinary. All she heard was the rustling of the trees, the hissing wind, and scurrying animals.

  The laughter from inside the house meant she was alone in the woods. Goosebumps littered her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

  “Lelahel.”

  Renata turned around, only to be greeted by the tall trees surrounding her.

  She appeared to be alone, but her instincts told her that appearances were deceiving. Motivated by her sudden fear, Renata dashed back into the house where the other House members’ presence comforted her, even though she was still a bit shaken up.

  Wyatt and Mariel relaxed on the couch, his arm around her as they laughed. Edwin, Heather, and Veronica sat at the breakfast bar, while Adelaide sat comfortably on the stairs.

  Jackson leaned up against the wall by the staircase. His face lit up when he saw Renata, and he greeted her with a kiss. “How was hunting?”

  “Good,” Renata said, forcing her enthusiasm. “Very good indeed.”

  Jackson looked puzzled, and he saw right through her mask.

  “We’ll talk later,” Renata promised with a pat on his arm, diverting her attention elsewhere.

  She didn’t want to talk to him about what happened just yet. She wanted to enjoy this—the House members laughing and talking without a care in the world—for as long as she could.

  Renata feared moments like these would be far and few in the weeks to come.

  Realizing she was still in her pajamas and serious need of a shower, she trudged upstairs.

  5

  Adela Johnson lifted her head up from her phone game when she heard a furious buzzing noise in the kitchen.

  She followed the sound, wandering behind the breakfast bar, where she found Renata’s cellphone buzzing on the granite countertop. Adela knew Renata was in the shower but figured her Mistress would appreciate her passing along whatever message the caller gave.

  Renata seriously needs to upgrade this thing, Adela thought as she reached for the old model phone, picking it up. Clarissa Bancroft’s name was displayed across the bright screen. Adela furrowed her brow.

  What does Clarissa want now?

  The Lightblood coven leader had already asked for Renata’s help once. What more could she want?

  Adela raised the phone to her ear, answering the call. “Hello?”

  “Renata?” A smooth feminine voice asked, catching Adela off guard.

  “No.” Adela attempted to clear the sudden lump lodged in her throat. “This is Adela Johnson, her second-in-command,” she said, making herself seem important. “I’ll pass along the message to Renata once she’s available.”

  Adela chastised herself. Was she actually attracted to Clarissa Bancroft’s frigging voice? If she was going to be into anyone, why did it have to be her, of all people?

  “Sorry, but no.” Clarissa threw out a sassy reply. “Just have Renata call me when she gets the chance.”

  “Uh, fine,” Adela huffed in annoyance, feeling like an over-glorified receptionist. “I’ll just tell her you called.”

  Adela didn’t bother to wait for Clarissa’s response before she hung up.

  What’s wrong with you? Seriously, get a grip.

  It’s not like she got a period anymore, now that she was a vampire, so it wasn’t as if she was hormonal or anything.

  So, why the hell was she letting Clarissa’s attitude get to her?

  Even though she thought of Clarissa Bancroft’s curt responses with a roll of her eyes, Adela couldn’t help but notice how attractive the Lightblood coven leader sounded while doing it.

  “Ugh!” Adela grumbled.

  As if on cue, Renata descended the staircase dressed in business casual attire, with her hair neatly pulled back, away from her face.

  “Renata,” Adela said, distracting herself. “Clarissa Bancroft called you. Whatever she had to say seemed pretty important.” She handed Renata her smartphone, glad to be rid of it. “You should call her back.”

  “Yes, of course.” Renata took her cellphone from Adela’s palm with a sense of urgency. “I’ll do that now.”

  “Great,” Adela drawled, feigning normalcy as she nodded her head a bit too vigorously. Thanks to her heightened senses, if she stayed downstairs, she’d probably catch wind of Renata and the coven leader’s conversation.

  She ran upstairs much quicker than she should have, not sticking around long enough to hear Clarissa Bancroft’s sensual voice one more time.

  Renata watched in confusion while her second-in-command practically fled upstairs. Shaking her head, she wondered what all that was about.

  Or if she ever wanted to know.

  Renata dialed Clarissa’s cell number and swiftly brought her phone up to her ear. “Hello? Clarissa?”

  Once she knew for sure that the voice she heard in the woods wasn’t a figment of her imagination, she’d tell Clarissa. For now, she didn’t need to know.

  “Renata, we have a problem.”

  Renata sighed. Lately, it felt like there was always a problem. “What’s wrong?

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” Clarissa said. “It’s the other witches. We’re turning on each other.”

  “What do you mean?” Renata asked slowly.

  “I’m easily irritated by the other witches, no matter how much I try to fight it.” Clarissa explained, “I’ve been noticing it recently in the others too. And, it’s not just with other covens. There’s so much fighting within my coven itself. Even the nicest witches are rude to the others. It’s not normal.”

  “Are you sure it’s not normal?” Renata reasoned, “Couldn’t the other witches be stressed or on edge?”

  “No,” Clarissa said firmly. “I’ve never seen my coven act this before. Even at stressful times.”

  “All right,” Renata said, trying to follow Clarissa’s logic. “You believe Azazel is responsible for how the witches are acting?”

  Clarissa took a deep breath. “I know it sounds crazy, but yeah.”

  “How do you know?” Renata asked skeptically. “How could he influence the witches’ emotions? Is it even possible to have that ability?”

  “I don’t know for sure.” Clarissa clarified, “But I have a gut feeling I can’t explain. You just need to trust me on this.”

  After everything she’d been through, Renata knew to trust her own “gut” feelings. “I’
ll take your word for it.” Even though the logical part of her demanded some sort of proof, she believed Clarissa was right about this.

  “I’m scared,” Clarissa started. “Scared that we’ll run out of time.” She sighed over the phone. “I mean, my coven gets weaker and weaker every day. These added tensions are not helping.”

  “We will figure this out, Clarissa,” Renata promised. “That, I can assure you.”

  “Okay.” Clarissa’s weak response made it sound like she didn’t believe her, but was too worn out to argue.

  Renata hung up the phone and returned it to its usual place in her back pocket with a sigh. She couldn’t sit around and wait any longer. She had to do something. Anything to get the information she could use against Azazel.

  There would be a full moon later that night. It was her only opportunity to reach the Nightblood ancestors before it could be too late.

  “What’s up?” Jackson came into the kitchen and slid his arm around Renata with ease.

  She rubbed her tired eyes. “I just got off the phone with Clarissa.”

  “And?” Jackson asked, concerned.

  “The witches are turning on each other, and she believes Azazel is the cause.”

  “That’s not what has you shaken up, though,” Jackson held her close. At six foot two, he towered over her five foot six inches.

  “No,” she admitted. She knew Jackson wouldn’t like what she was about to say. Renata hesitated, afraid she was going to sound crazy. “I heard a voice out in the woods. A man’s voice.”

  “What?” Jackson’s eyes searched hers. “What did he say?”

  “All he said was ‘Lelahel,’ nothing else,” Renata told him, exasperated. “But his voice...” she stammered, shaking away the memory. “I felt his breath on my ear, but when I turned around, there was no one there.”

  “And you think that’s…” Jackson’s voice trailed off, and he held Renata tighter. As if he was afraid the very mention of the culprit’s name would summon him.

  Wordlessly, she nodded. She had one person in mind who would say this word to her. The only thing she couldn’t wrap her head around was why Azazel would waste his time toying with her. Especially when it seemed like he had better things to do.