Vaewolf: Damn the Darkness: The Prophecy's Promise (Hearts of Darkness Book 3)

DAMN THE DARKNESS

By

Eliza March

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

VAEWOLF: DAMN THE DARKNESS

COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Eliza March

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

EMAIL: [email protected]:

WEBSITE: ElizaMarch.com

Photos, Licensing, Cover Art Design:

Maureen Sevilla

Publishing History

First eBook Edition, May 2015

Hearts of Darkness, Book 3

Published in the United States of America

Acknowledgements

I couldn’t have completed this book on time without the help of Karen Roma, Gabrielle Lee, and Marta Cox who volunteered to be my Beta readers; Faith V. Smith who is my Blurb Queen; and Lorelei Confer, my inspiration and critique partner.

This book is dedicated to the members of

Eliza’s A Team,
my constant supporters, and first fans,

and to all my loyal readers.

Thank you.

I write each book with you in mind.

Author’s Foreword

The stories in Hearts of Darkness are intended to be a true sequential series. To appreciate fully the world building and storyline, the books should be read in order.

About the Series

These books contain graphic violence, profanity, adult situations, and alternative sexual content, which may offend some readers.

In these stories, several back bayou Parrishes outside New Orleans are home to creatures most humans don’t know exist. However, humans with recessive supernatural DNA instinctively gravitate to the area. Here all creatures can be themselves. Here the lamb will sit down with the lion, or more precisely—the vampire will sit with the witch, the Werewolf with the fae, the jaguar with the demon—or any such combination. Here the paranormal is normal.

Supernatural beings are represented by members of a council and lead by Dylan Macgregor. He is the vampire holding the Loreans together in a leadership capacity until Jackson Xenos reaches his majority, or until Niccolai, the boy’s father and the last natural born vampire, returns. Jackson is approaching his majority within months.

Danger takes many forms, but the portals between the parallel worlds occasionally shift and open allowing evil to enter our realm. Witch and vampire covens share the lands with various shifters and fae, while the Werewolf packs hunt the backcountry. These beings guard the humans from the threatening evil.

Since “born” vampires lost the ability to reproduce naturally, and “made” vampires can’t survive forever without ancient blood, the ancients continue to search for a solution to their infertility, while the others are determined to help them survive.

Although the main characters fulfill a promise in their own book, they also may play important roles in other books to come. A large number of characters who make up this ensemble cast show up in more than one book in supporting roles. Because I like to think they all have lives happening while the story is ongoing, we may get to focus on another one of them in the future.

Praise for Eliza March

Review: Defeat the Darkness~~

Welcome to the dark side of passion is the theme in Ms. March’s latest paranormal erotic adventure. There are plenty of opportunities for fans of erotic romance to experience the thrills and chills beneath the sheets but the tale’s suspense and drama is revved up by a dark and sinister plot with twists and turns to keep the pages flipping. ~~
The Long and Short Reviews

Author Quote: Conquer the Highland Beast~~

Eliza March
conquers readers with her intense paranormal tale. The characters jump off the page, and the sizzling love scenes will literally scorch fingers in this page-turning tale of demons, vampires, fae, and psychics.

~~
Author,
Faith V. Smith
,
Bound by Blood: The Legends
series.

Chapter One

Day of the Demons

Drizzle. Heat. Steam.

The scent? Pine, cypress, swamp, and something else...feline?

Jackson snapped his attention in the direction of the pungent scent of a large cat.

“Male. Jaguar. Not far ahead.”
He sent the message mentally to his pack.

His sharp night vision took in the trees, the shrubs—all enhanced with a cast of blue haze. The fallacy about animals seeing in black and white or shades of gray was just that...a fallacy. In the form of the wolf, he saw in all muted colors, but blood red was the strongest color he could identify. So blindingly bright, the color of blood stood out from the rest in the darkest circumstances. And the scent? How could he describe the power in the scent of blood?

Not only could he smell it and see the color from great distances, he could all but taste the blood in his mouth. Rich, metallic, delicious.

He saw more than most—was more than most. Lycan and vampire. Hybrid. The first true hybrid ever born to survive.

Yeah, a fucking
miracle
. The term alone made him shudder—the responsibility and expectation daunting, the adoration unjustified. But born vampires lost the ability to reproduce after his father. Niccolai Xenos had been the last born vampire sired three thousand years earlier by the God Zeus on an unknown Titan female. Some of the Titans, believed to be the first vampires, were destined to protect humans, the source of the blood that kept them immortal.

Abigail Whelan was the daughter of an alpha Lycan born from the Goddess Leto’s line. Jackson’s mother and his father, a demi-god, had been a true love match, and the life mates remained bound to each other until she died in childbirth. Jackson’s infant sister didn’t survive, and neither had Niccolai—at least not completely. Nearly insane with grief, he went to ground, leaving Jackson with his surrogate—the only vampire Niccolai ever sired: Dylan Macgregor.

The prophecies had foretold Jackson’s birth, and when fully engaged, he was living proof the scrolls stated the truth about his potential. But success came with great effort.

He sniffed the air again and smelled trouble. “
Demons.”
Circling so he was up wind, he maintained a safe distance from his quarry.

Bad movies tried to name his kind many things, but Jackson was different. He’d been born not turned. What he became no one had yet conceived, nor named. But to those he was destined to lead, he truly was what the prophecy called Vaewolf.

As the first-born vampire in over a thousand years, Jackson would inherit the charge of leading all the lore soon. And when he did, he’d make changes.

New world—new rules!

Chapter Two

Packing

Caitlin Donovan, fresh from the shower wrapped a towel around her hair, packed away the last of her personal belongings, and crossed to the bedroom.

The report she’d read earlier, preoccupied her thoughts. She took her makeup bag over to the open suitcase, dropped it in, and accidently knocked over an empty water bottle. Suddenly with clearer vision, she studied the condition of the room.

Sometime during the last, strenuous round of lovemaking, Dylan had torn off her clothes and together they’d knocked the rest of the stuff off the antique bedside table. She glanced around the cluttered room and wondered what the hell happened to the trashcan. She finally spotted the wicker basket on its side on the other side of the room. Wadded papers and tissues were scattered all around.

Caitlin righted it, and, along with the rest of the scattered trash, dropped the empty water bottle in the basket. “Now,” she said with her hands on her hips. “Where did he throw my underwear?”

She crawled, naked on hands and knees, across the scarred hardwood floor, picking up her clothes as she went. Along with her FBI ID and gun, she discovered her missing bra beneath the corner of the bed. The rest of the tattered silk and lace of her fragile lingerie lie strewn in pieces by the side of the bed. Unless she planned to go commando, she’d need to find another pair.

Once she confirmed there was nothing more under the bed, she replaced the tattered underwear and a fresh shirt from her over-night bag, then finished dressing. Except for her bag, most of her personal belongings were already packed and ready to take back from her temporary quarters at the B&B to the estate. Her new home. She took a deep breath and grinned. Pleasure filled the void she acquired ever since she lost her family.

Their
home. Hers and Dylan’s.

She placed the gun and the badge inside her briefcase on top of the roll-top desk. Carrying the badge and gun was more than an old habit. Once she completed an appropriate medical leave—although it was completely unnecessary since her new regenerative abilities healed her quickly—she planned to return to work part time as Dylan’s partner—a psychic consultant. Her position as an FBI profiler would be invaluable to the lore community’s ongoing investigation into the maulings and deaths in the adjoining Parrish. And her consultant position would give her access to official files they desperately needed.

She picked up the last report from Detective Delavega off the nightstand and scanned it one more time before storing it in her briefcase. Ramon reported more rogue jaguar shifters hiding in the bayou, and worse, they’d found sympathetic allies in the demons who slipped through the portal undetected before the lore group she belonged to managed to close it.

What did their presence nearby mean? After being shot—uh, actually killed—she wasn’t prepared to take on anything besides her life mate. The additional medical leave gave her time to adjust to her death and rebirth, time to explore her new abilities… She smiled. Time to enjoy her mate, Dylan Macgregor, fully, at last.

A small ache of longing centered in her chest, and she suddenly felt Dylan enter her thoughts.

“Lass, I’m paying for the wine now and already picked up the takeout for you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing her emotions to engulf her thoughts so he’d see how his thoughtful attention pleased her. A hint of sexual desire escaped and accompanied the thought, then a lightning strike of sexual hunger hit her from out of nowhere. His or hers? She wondered. Her stomach growled and she refocused.

“Hurry, I’m starving.”

Dylan’s quiet chuckle touched her mind like down on the wind.

“You are insatiable...” The words came from the man standing behind her—his familiar heady scent was stronger and more appealing to her than the Thai food in his hand. Dylan’s breath brushed her neck, and for the moment, all thoughts of food vanished.

“Mmm…”

“You ready to eat?” he asked.

“Right. Food.” Seconds before she’d been thinking of food, now all she could think about was stripping Dylan naked and getting her hands on his body...again. She forced herself to concentrate on dinner, and that wasn’t easy with his hard body pressed against her back, the long hard length of his erection teasing her ass.

She turned in his arms and confronted him. “How do you do that?”

“Do what? Flip emotional switches in your head or turn your insides to mush?” The broad hard line of his Celtic jaw clenched, but his eyes twinkled playfully.

“Why, you…arrogant—” She couldn’t contain her giggle.

Dylan scooped her up, tossed her over his muscled shoulder, and spun her around before putting her down.

“Aye, cocky, too where you’re concerned.” He wiggled his eyebrows in fun.

“Don’t push me.” She gripped his shirt in her fists and narrowed her eyes at him ready to tease him in return. “I’m not into submissive cra—”

He kissed her silent, until she couldn’t breathe enough to speak, then Dylan pulled away and said, “You have me at your mercy. Because you love me as I love you, lass, our need flares at the thought of the other. I consider myself a right lucky bastard.”

“Just remember that.”

How could she not be touched by his rugged emotional admission? He destroyed every wall she erected. Running her hand slowly down the side of his face, she gently moved her thumb across his lips, brought her fingers into a light fist, and paused. She gripped his shoulder and stood on tip toe to kiss him lightly to soften her words. She’d been on her own after her brother’s death and wasn’t ready to allow even the likes of Dylan Macgregor to know how vulnerable loving him made her feel.

The serious line of his full lips lifted into a slow smile when her stomach growled. He bent to kiss the tip of her nose and turned her around. “Let’s get you properly fed, then you can make me live up to my arrogance in service to you.”

Certain she would enjoy doing just that, Caitlin followed him over to the tiny kitchen area of the cottage tugging on his hair. “Why do I think it’s no hardship?”

“Perhaps, yer reading my thoughts, lass.” He shot her an image of him pleasuring her and driving his name like a prayer from her lips. “Are you peeking inside my head?”

As if she could. His thoughts were maddeningly difficult to get at if he blocked her...and totally evocative when he dropped those image bombs on her.

“I meant to ask,” Caitlin said changing the subject. Face flushed and heat rising, she cocked a hip against the counter while he opened the brown bag. “How’d you get from the restaurant here so quickly? You couldn’t have traced that fast.”

“I materialized.” He handed her the Thai food, and she pushed it to the side of the counter and reached for a plate.

“Here.” She handed him the wine bottle. “Open this first, please. I could use a good, mellow Bordeaux right now.” Maybe it would help settle her scattered thoughts.

Questions. She had a few for him, and she needed real answers before his presence distracted her more than it already did. The abilities and life she faced as a newly made vampire were somewhat daunting, and there was so much to learn.

After Caitlin took the plate from the cabinet, she paused, staring blankly as she wondered. She knew about tracing, but she’d never heard the term linked with materializing before. She’d yet to master tracing, the ability of vampires to move at top speed, but Dylan assured her he’d teach her when she completed going through the last phase of her transition.

Metamorphosis, the final phase, would blend her own DNA with the DNA in the vampire blood she’d been given during her initial change. Apparently, if there were any hidden sneaking genes about in her chromosomes, she’d find out about them then.

“Is materializing what Simone does?” The succubus could fade into particles, meld into the shadows, and even move through solid objects.

“Somewhat. When vampires materialize, it’s called sifting. You can only do it if you know where you’re going. Since I’ve been here before, I locked onto your thoughts. Then poof!”

“Nice trick.” Caitlin grinned, suppressing the urge to giggle at the idea of a man his size
poofing
anywhere.

He rummaged around, opening one drawer after another. “Where’s the wine opener?”

“In here.” She opened the correct drawer and pointed.

He hesitated, turning toward her when her body touched his. He’d been preoccupied, concentrating on getting the wine opened. Now the slight contact was enough to send her internal temperature blazing, and the heat in his eyes told her the arousal felt the same for him.

“Can you teach me how?” She shook off the desire.

“‘Tis nothing to open a wine bottle with these new gadgets.” He held it up and the cork opened with a soft pop.

“Not that...” She snorted. He was so sexy and adorable when he was lost in thought. She reached around Dylan to take down the wine glasses from the cabinet in front of him. “...teach me to sift.”

At first, he seemed confused. He looked at the wine bottle and the opener, then his mind touched hers, and his eyes darkened with desire. That look she recognized, and it sent a sexual thrill zinging through her like a lightning bolt charging through a mid-summer night sky.

Will I ever get enough of this man?
Her heart beat in rhythm to his and warmth flooded through her.

“It may take a few hundred years,” he said as he lowered his head and tipped her chin up so she had to meet his gaze.

“A few hundred years?” She breathed a disappointed sigh and didn’t move as he took the wine glasses from her hands. Her insides fluttered at his nearness. The counter looked sturdy enough. Maybe not. It would hold her, but never his massive size.

A few hundred years of this need? Could she last that long, constantly aching for him immediately after they’d made love and hungering right after they’d fed from each other? Satisfaction and need, a never-ending cycle?

“Aye. It’s an ability that comes with age...”

“Ability?” What? An ability can end this love? This desire? Maybe that wasn’t such a great ability.

Suddenly, she stopped to retrace the conversation. They couldn’t be talking about the same thing at all. Her emotions were all over the place. Her inability to think clearly turned her mind into swamp fog, thick and murky.