Primal Kill (The Order of Vampires #5)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

C enturies Later…

Branches tore at Adriel’s skin and clothes as she launched into the canopy of trees. Her heart beat frantically as her body slammed hard into the trunk, her claws embedded into the soft bark. Eyes wild, she scanned the area, but her senses stayed dull for her protection.

The moment she’d spent centuries dreading was finally here. How much time did she have before Cerberus caught her? Minutes? Maybe days if she was lucky? Her time had always been marked, but now it was up.

Her mate tracked her down and burned her out of her home, leaving her no choice but to run. Adriel knew he’d inevitably come for her, for his revenge. Just as the lion could not resist toying with the pitiful, helpless mouse, Cerberus, no doubt, relished the chase ahead of him.

For all of her worry, she was no more and no less prepared to face him.

He found her. Taunted her. Vowed to have his long-awaited vengeance as he burned her house down and forced her into the open. Without shelter, she was truly vulnerable and had no choice but to run. The Order could no longer protect her, and it was now her duty to protect those who saved her years ago. That meant luring Cerberus as far away from her friends as possible.

Her time was up.

Labored breath wheezed from her lungs as she raced through the woods. Heart pounding with the muffled chirp of nightcrawlers, she ran as fast as she could. With serpentine leaps, she raced from the trees to the forest floor, trying hard to disguise her scent.

Owls screeched, aware of a predator nearby. While she was far more fearsome than a night bird, she was nothing compared to her mate, Cerberus Maddox XI.

Shutting her eyes, she paused and focused on the ground below. He'd easily track her if she searched too closely for him, so she kept her touch feather-light as she scanned the dark forest. The tingle of his nearness sent chills knifing down her spine. Slamming her mind shut, she sucked in a sharp breath.

Her lungs burned from smoke inhalation. She needed to feed, needed to heal. Her blistered body suffered terrible burns from the fire, but without more blood, her damaged cells would not repair. On the contrary, her energy was draining.

She could not afford to stop or hunt. She needed to keep moving.

Her attention snapped to the east as a twig cracked. Something was out there.

Small, possibly immortal, but not Cerberus. Not yet. Needing to keep her mind closed, she could only use her other senses.

Sniffing the air, Adriel growled and curled her lip, exposing a razor-sharp fang. The intruder was an unwelcome distraction, perhaps sent by Cerberus to slow her down.

Adriel crouched low, panting for breath as she scanned the shadows. Her claws extended, and her eyes dilated they retracted to pinpoints as she prepared to attack.

She tracked the sound of approaching footsteps, fanning her senses over the forest floor until she latched onto the encroaching threat. It was small but…otherworldly.

Immortal? Perhaps, but not quite. Something else. What, Adriel did not know.

Bare feet whispered over the soft vegetation, cushioned by fallen leaves and pine needles, as the intruder drew closer.

“Fuck!” A soft voice using such profanity was not of their Amish order .

Adriel drew back, hiding deeper in the shadows, her eyes watching with nocturnal precision.

Soft footsteps padded over the damp underbrush as the ripe scent of a female tinged the air. Her approach was far too light-footed to be male but also lacked the agility of an immortal.

What was it?

Adriel could feed. If the intruder was, in fact, immortal, she could use its blood to heal. But feeding would slow her down, and she needed to keep moving.

Her hand shook as she wiped the dirt, blood, and sweat from her singed face, eyes stinging from vigilance and acrid smoke. The fire had damaged her vision, and the nearby trees appeared blurry. She could not waste another second investigating the forest intruder. She needed to run.

Leaping into the trees to perch high in the safety of the branches, Adriel searched the ground below. Probing the black woods, unsure where she was heading, she pieced together a plan. There would be no going back.

Sharp heartache followed that petrifying thought. The worry of never seeing her son again crippled her with grief she could not afford. She was truly alone now. The Order could not protect her, and she needed to protect them from Cerberus.

Where would she go? Who would she become? Would she even get that far?

Swallowing a gasp, she choked on the overwhelming uncertainty. She had no choice but to leave. The farm was no longer a haven for her to call home.

The Order’s stringent views had protected her for centuries. Safeguarded by privacy and shielded from modern society, their Amish lifestyle allowed masses of immortals to hide in plain sight.

She could not jeopardize the peaceful sanctuary the elders built. Cerberus would stop at nothing to burn The Order to the ground and expose whatever was left in the ash of his rage. She needed to protect them now the way they had once protected her.

The daunting thought of entering a world she did not know threatened to snap the thin thread of hope she held. As a female, she’d been indoctrinated through the Amish faith and taught to fear the outside world. Exposure terrified her, but Cerberus was far more frightening.

Her mate was ancient, and once he latched onto her mind, there would be no escaping him. He possessed powers far beyond Adriel’s skills. She was a peaceful country mouse that angered a vicious dragon capable of horrific crimes.

The bishop was right. She had to run and keep moving until Cerberus was gone. But he would never be gone. He would never forgive what they did to him centuries ago, nor would he rest until he sought the vengeance he believed she deserved.

Pressing her brow against the trunk of the evergreen, overcome with worry and dread. Apprehension swelled inside of her. It was hopeless. Perhaps she should surrender and end this lifelong fight to escape her destiny. But Cerberus would not let it end after what they did to him. He was going to make her pay.

Crippling, daunting, horrifying visions attacked her mind as a jagged breath cut through her scorched lungs. He was going to torture her. She could not allow her panic room to grow, so she quickly smothered the fearful thoughts of her future.

Stiffening her shoulders, she forced her body to stand at full height. Moonlight cut through the branches, dappling the dark earth with silver-blue. Fixated on the scuttling sounds racing along the underbrush, she zeroed in on the approaching footsteps of a…animal?

No. The same familiar scent tickled her nose. Unwashed human hair and traces of sweat. But her pursuer was not mortal. A mortal would never be able to keep speed. So what followed her?

Listening for cues, she caught the swift breath of a feminine gasp as a branch cut into the pursuer’s skin. The scent of fresh blood pulled a growl from Adriel’s throat as weakness begged her to feed.

The creature's sharpness was animal-like, akin to that of small prey, reminding her of a fox or a coyote. Adriel’s nose twitched at the sharp metallic scent of fresh blood—not immortal blood nor purely mortal.

Hunger carved her insides hollow as the gamy canine-like scent called to her. Her head jerked upward as the scent intensified. It was getting closer.

Releasing her grip from the tree, Adriel dropped off the branch, falling forty feet to the earth below and landing in an agile crouch. Her eyes dilated, and her fangs extended as the swift rush of footsteps raced toward her.

Low and alert, she growled and pounced as a twig snapped. Snarling hard and vicious, she collided with the soft body, plowing it into the dirt. A sharp scream pierced the forest, and lesser creatures scattered as Adriel slammed a hand over the girl’s mouth, recognizing the escaped witch as The Order’s prisoner.

“What are you doing here?” Drawing back her claws, she hissed, fully engaged as a predator prepared to defend her life to the death if need be.

“Don’t hurt me!”

Adriel stilled as the witch cowered in fear, her arms protectively blocking her face. Grabbing her by the throat, she jacked her off the ground and shoved her hard into the narrow trunk of a tree.

“Why are you following me? How did you escape? And what do you want?”

The witch struggled to work her voice past Adriel’s lethal grip. “Please,” she choked. “Don’t…hu rt…” She tried to pry away her hold, but Adriel’s claws only lengthened, pressing harder into her narrow larynx.

She had no time for mercy or entrapments. Witches were not to be trusted. “How did you get out of your cell, and why are you following me?” She loosened her hold on the girl's slender neck just enough for her to answer.

She gasped and choked down a breath. “Dane let me out. The bishop knows I’m gone.”

Eleazar permitted this? Why?

Out of habit, Adriel nearly reached for her shared mental link with her friend but quickly remembered that such communication could jeopardize her safety. She would need to rely on her intuition alone. Because she was utterly alone.

Her jaw hardened. Anything the plebe said could not be trusted. She jerked the girl by the throat. “How did you catch me?”

A witch as lacking as this plebe should not have been able to keep pace with an immortal as ancient as Adriel—injured or not.

“I…I don’t know.”

Adriel’s eyes narrowed. Had she used magick? Had she gone in circles? Tightening her grip, Adriel bared her teeth and growled, “Stop following me.”

“I…” the witch croaked, her voice straining to escape. “I can help you.”

Adriel released her and turned away. “I highly doubt that. ”

Brushing a hand over her shorn red hair, she scanned the sky for the north star, reorienting herself with the direction she needed to travel.

Gathering her skirts in hand, she glanced back at the witch with scathing promise. “Follow me again, and I’ll kill you.”

Knees bent, she crouched to spring into the trees?—

“You’re Amish!” the witch blurted.

Adriel staggered off balance and scowled at the girl. “I’m many things. Most of which you should have the common sense to fear. Are you so dense and depraved that you require physical proof of my nature? I will kill you, girl.”

“Look…” The witch held up her palms in supplication, her filthy hands shaking like leaves. “I know you’re s-s-strong and immortal, and you could kill me with little effort, but—no offense—you’re sheltered. You probably don’t know anything about modern technology, and you seem to be running from something. Plus, aren’t vampires really old?”

Adriel rolled her eyes. Age only amplified an immortal’s powers. And despite her maturity, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. “Go away, child.”

“I’m not a child! I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“That farm is all you’ve ever known, am I right? You’re ignorant of the ways the real world works. It can be dangerous out there—especially for women. ”

Her lip curled with annoyance, covering a tremor of fear. Adriel had survived thus far, and modernization should have made the world safer. Shouldn’t it have?

The girl was getting in her head, so she growled, “I’ve seen dangers you couldn’t imagine, and I assure you, I’m much stronger than I look.”

“Probably, sure,” the witch rushed out in a desperate attempt to plead her case. “But outwardly, you’re just a doe-eyed, pale-skinned waif with a pixie cut, and that’s what they’ll see when they look at you. They’ll see you as an easy target, and they’ll take advantage of your ignorance.”

“Who is they ? Who do you speak of?”

“Criminals. Thieves. Predators. Bad men. It’s not safe out there for women, especially women who spent their entire life sheltered on an Amish farm.”

“Mortals are the least of my concerns.”

“I can help you escape whoever you’re running from.” The plebe’s gaze skittered to the blood-stained collar of Adriel’s dress. “I saw what he did to your house—the fire. They didn’t kill him. I saw him get away, and I imagine he’ll catch up with you soon. I know you’re scared. What does he want with you?”

Ice formed in Adriel’s veins as a chill raced down her spine. The urge to flee caused her knees to tingle. She looked east, fanning out her senses as she tried to detect footsteps. There was nothing.

“I can help you,” the witch urged. “It’s a big world out there—nothing like what you’re used to. I can drive a car, and I know how to talk to people and how to dress.” She glanced at Adriel’s long sleeves, grimacing at the primitive apron and Amish attire. “I can help you escape whoever you’re running from—whoever he is.”

Her eyes widened. No one could help her. This witch could never understand the heinous atrocities Cerberus was capable of. The girl lived in captivity for years, and now she was desperately trying to cling to any escape.

“You’re hardly a woman of the world?—”

“What does my age matter after the things I suffered? I haven’t been a child in a long time.” She pointed a sharp finger toward the distant sound of civilization. “Everything I know is out there. I may look young, but I’m an adult who can help you.”

“Go home where it’s safe,” Adriel spat.

The witch snatched her arm. “I have no home! Your people saw to that when they murdered my aunts.”

“Exactly why I would be a fool to trust you!” She jerked her arm free. “Witches and immortals are natural enemies. Touch me again, and I’ll show you why.”

“I have magick!”

Adriel ignored her and headed north, but the girl followed, struggling to keep up.

“Do you hear me?” She yelled. “I have powers!”

Adriel’s blurry stare narrowed as she trudged through the trees. “If you had powers, you would have escaped long before tonight.”

“You saw how they kept me. Hands tied and mouth muzzled. Witches need to chant. When we lose our voices, our spells are hobbled.”

Cerberus was still out there. Adriel could not mend broken birds if she wanted to save herself. “I do not have time for orphaned witches.”

“Please. I have nowhere to go.”

Adriel pivoted, prepared to unleash on her, but hesitated when the moonlight caught the witch’s tattered smock. The dirty rag reeked of sweat, fear, and something unmistakably masculine.

Her gaze traveled from her mud-spattered calves to her long, unkempt hair. She’d suffered. Adriel could see it now, and empathy pulled at her heart.

“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing the words out. “Perhaps you cannot return to where you once lived, but you cannot come with me.”

The witch straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “I’m tougher than I look?—”

“Enough! You’re free now. Have the sense to save yourself.”

“Can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Save yourself. I watched him take down several immortal men twice your size. You’re small and hurt?—”

“You know nothing of the atrocities I’ve survived or the horrors I’ve escaped. Size means little when one is cunning and determined.”

“Exactly! So why would you dismiss me when I’m offering you help?”

“Because you’ll only slow me down?—”

As she dropped to a crouch, Adriel’s words cut off with a gasp. A blast shook the forest floor, rattling the trees and propelling sleeping birds to flight.

“What is that?” Juniper gripped the trunk of a tree for balance as the earth quaked and roots rattled free of the soil, tipping trees into each other and sending creatures scurrying for shelter.

He was shaking her out. “ That is what you claim you can protect me from.” More trees fell as another boom shook the forest floor.

Adriel had no guarantee she could outrun Cerberus or even cause him to flinch in combat, but she was certain such an enemy was well beyond the plebe’s abilities. The girl might be a witch, but she was young and untrained, still in the infancy of her shadow work. And while Adriel had never killed a living thing in her life, some primal part of her knew she would kill Cerberus if it came down to her survival or his.

“You will die if you stay with me,” Adriel shouted over the quaking rumble.

“You will die if I leave!”

Trees crashed to the soil as branches rained like meteors. Adriel clung to a vibrating trunk as tremors rolled like waves under the earth’s mantle.

“Juniper—that is your name, yes?” Adriel shouted, and the witch nodded. “It is not a matter of want. Do you see how powerful he is? No one can help me now. You must leave this place?—”

They fell to their knees and gasped as another earthquake tore through the trees. A chasm ripped across the forest floor, loosening soil and sending them crawling for shelter, but nothing was stable.

Juniper grabbed Adriel’s shoulders and instinctively pulled her closer for protection. Adriel flashed her fangs as the invisible threat roared closer.

Juniper screamed as another blast rolled through the black woods, making it impossible to rise from their knees. Soil danced at the earth’s surface, then the ground cracked, and they scurried back from the opening.

Beetles rushed up from the coniferous debris. Branches whooshed and heavy trees collapsed into the earth forming a cage around them, the gnarled roots turning skyward as the force of the thunderous rattle left them clutching for unsteady balance.

Then everything stilled. No, not everything. Just the earth beneath them and the air around them, as if they were in a bubble of safety protecting them from the cataclysmic chaos assaulting the forest.

Breathless whispers hissed from Juniper’s lips. The foreign incantation seemed to still the ground at their feet while the world shook violently around them. The witch held her palms outward as her eyes stayed shut, and she cast some sort of protection spell that formed an invisible forcefield around them.

Adriel screamed when another tree fell, coming directly toward them. The trunk crashed into the invisible shelter overhead, deflecting the heavy branches and protecting them. Her shocked stare darted back to the witch.

“That is a great power, indeed.”

The witch kept whispering words but met her gaze as if to say she was aware.

Adriel rose to her full height on unsteady legs, her knees locking and her footing solid as the forest shook around them. She bolted forward only to fall to her knees when she left the witch’s proximity. Looking back, she found Juniper standing at her full height, balance perfectly intact despite the chaos ripping through the forest.

The witch’s chin lifted, still bruised from where she’d worn the metal muzzle for so long. A smug grin curved her lips, the quakes no longer impacting her balance. “The protection spell stays with me.” Her isolated tranquility displayed incredible influence over the elements. “As I said, I have powers that can protect you.”