Huntress Claimed Read online

  Eva Brandt

  Huntress Claimed

  Huntress’s Pack 2

  Copyright © 2020 by Eva Brandt

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Eva Brandt has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  Cover art by EmCat Designs. Cover is for illustrative purposes only.

  First edition

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  Contents

  Huntress Claimed

  A Note from the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon: Huntress Cursed

  About the Author

  Also by Eva Brandt

  Huntress Claimed

  Vampires aren’t supposed to have soulmates. Demons aren’t supposed to love. Until now.

  I used to be a huntress, a woman dedicated to protecting the world from supernatural threats. Now, that life is gone, and I’ve found something new, a bond with three werewolves who rescued me from a horrible fate.

  They call me their soulmate, their lover, their Genny. They tell me I’m safe by their side. But in my heart, I know better. Because there are two other men after me, and they will stop at nothing to have me.

  Daimon Rossi, the demon who haunts my nights, who tore my life asunder and wants to make me his bride.

  Vampire lord Roman Popovic, who seeks retaliation for the death of his brother. At least, until he sets his eye on me instead.

  I’m trapped between five men, lost in a world of darkness and secrets. By the time this is over, someone will claim my heart—and I’m afraid of who it will be.

  Huntress Claimed is a 51k words why choose dark romance complete with vampires, demons, and werewolves all competing for the heart (and body) of the same woman, spiced up with a dash of m/m romance. Sound tempting? That’s great - but be advised! There will be some dark content that might not be for the faint of heart.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for picking up Huntress Claimed. As mentioned in the blurb, this is a dark romance novel. That means it contains some themes that may not be for every reader. This includes torture, dubious consent, violence, gore, etc.

  Additionally, keep in mind that this series take place in an alternate universe, different from our own. This is fairly obvious from the story, but I wanted to make a note of it. I will be using some characters from history in the future, but while they are inspired from our own historical past, they are not the same.

  Chapter One

  Very little is truly known about vampire covens. From the beginning of time, people have claimed to understand the undead, but in reality, they are still largely a mystery to us.

  Their coven organization system appears to be similar to a werewolf’s definition of ‘union’ or ‘pack’. But is it really? Vampires pride themselves on being superior, immortal life forms, so simple extrapolation dictates that drawing such conclusions may be rash.

  We do know this, though. As is the case for most creatures, vampires will follow the lead of the coven member who is strongest. In vampiric society, this is also identified by age, as ancient vampires are notably far more dangerous than fledglings.

  It is said that, following the death of an ancient, covens are often shaken by power struggles. Recently discovered records suggest this may have happened during the early 18th century, in Medwegya, Serbia. Throughout the years 1727 and 1731, human communities were shaken by a surge of ‘vampire panic’ which was for many years considered unfounded. We now know it may have been related to the change in leadership in the Egorov coven, which has since emerged as one of the strongest vampire groups in Eastern Europe, second only to the Popovic coven.

  - Vreni Bohn, “Surviving the Undead Plague,” Springer Verlag GmbH, 2001 -

  * * *

  Roman

  “This is unacceptable, Roman. You can’t attack the Rossi horde just because your brother decided to kill himself over a woman.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the useless asshole who dared to malign my brother’s name. Vladimir had been dead for less than a month and already the scavengers were coming out of the woodwork, drooling over his proverbial carcass, waiting in the wings to claim our home.

  Of course, I had no intention of allowing that. My brother might have been the leader of our coven, but over the past centuries, he’d lost interest in the daily dealings of our people. It happened a lot to ancient vampires and I hadn’t blamed him for it. I had been honored to take over some of his duties—at least until he’d told me the second reason why he’d made that choice.

  After that, I’d been angry and up to a point, frightened. Now, I was just angry. I grinned at the other vampires, exposing my sharp fangs. “Tell me, Lyosha, what are you?”

  Lyosha glared at me with undisguised resentment. “Pardon?”

  “What are you?” I repeated. “Are you a shifter? A fae? Or worse, a human? Because it almost sounds like you want to be one of the living.”

  There were outraged gasps all around. “Roman, don’t say that,” Latarra told me, having enough sense to keep her voice mellow and calm. “Lyosha has no interest in being alive. Surely, you must know that.”

  “Do I? I get the feeling he’s forgotten how things work in the coven. This is not a democracy. You all don’t get a say. I’ve decided Vladimir has to be avenged and so he shall be.”

  “You’re not the leader of the coven yet,” Lyosha replied just like I’d known he would.

  “Oh? Does that mean you’re questioning my rights as Blood Count?” I asked sharply. When Lyosha didn’t answer, I snorted. “I thought not. Next time you decide to challenge me, put your money where your fangs are.”

  Silence fell over the cavernous crypt. I knew better than to think one of them wouldn’t try to challenge me sooner or later. In fact, I hoped they would, since I wanted to get this whole distasteful affair out of the way before I had to go handle the larger threat—the demons and the mysterious werewolves who’d killed my brother.

  “Now, back to what we were discussing… When he left to speak to Daimon Rossi, Vladimir told me he was in the middle of a soulmate summoning ritual. He planned on assisting Daimon with summoning his mate. As you know, this is a very difficult process. I suspect the ritual might have had something to do with th
e way he was killed.”

  “Do you think he can still be brought back?” Yuli asked, clenching his hands around the arms of his seat. Him, I couldn’t get mad with. He had been Vladimir’s lover for many years, an uncommon thing among vampires. He hadn’t said much about my decision to avenge Vladimir and start a conflict with Daimon in the process, but I suspected that he supported me.

  Unfortunately, I was forced to disappoint him. I might have been an undead, but I wasn’t cruel enough to make Yuli false promises. “As far as I can tell, he’s lost to us,” I said. “I’ve tried to reach out to his essence, but there’s been no response. I believe he’s beyond the Veil, beyond our reach.”

  Yuli opened his mouth to answer, but Lyosha didn’t give him the chance. “Convenient,” he said.

  It was one single word, spoken so softly it would have been inaudible to a human’s ears. It echoed against the marble walls like thunder. I’d been willing to let a simple challenge go and give Lyosha enough rope to hang himself. But this was too much. I refused to accept any slight against Vladimir.

  Shadows started swirling around my feet, spreading over the crypt, licking over the torches and dimming the light even further. The other vampire aristocrats fidgeted in obvious nervousness, but I didn’t look at them. My gaze remained fixed on Lyosha. “I’m sorry? What exactly do you think is convenient? Do you revel in my brother’s death? Do you enjoy the thought that he died alone, in the clutches of the betrayers?”

  Lyosha should have backed out and apologized. But he must have realized it wouldn’t make a difference, not now and definitely not in the big picture.

  He got up and offered me a smile as unpleasant as my own. “That’s not what I meant. I respected your brother and still do. He didn’t deserve that fate. But that doesn’t change the fact that this episode was convenient, for you. And I can’t help but think it would have been easy to arrange. We all know he trusted you, sometimes a little too much.”

  “He has a point,” Shura replied. I wasn’t surprised she had taken his side. Like Lyosha, she was an older vampire and she had just as much interest in becoming the leader of our coven as he did. “We all know that he’d left some of the more mundane tasks to you. You were the one who handled the selection of most of the people he took with him.”

  I hid my fury and frustration behind a carefully practiced mask of calm. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. But I wouldn’t let her attack my weak point, because if I did, all would be lost. “Yes, I was in charge of his guards,” I answered, “which is why I know he should have had more than enough backup to handle his task. Even assuming the hunters and werewolves teamed up, which seems to be the case, they shouldn’t have been able to take out my brother. There was another element involved.

  “But I’m done discussing that with you and I’m done listening to your accusations. I have been patient enough, but no longer. I will allow a lot, but I won’t have you questioning my loyalty to my own blood kin.”

  I pulled my gloves off and pocketed them, already prepared for the battle that lay ahead. “Lyosha, Shura, here’s your chance. Fight me.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” Shura hedged.

  Of course she didn’t. How could she? She talked big, but in the end, she was aware she was inferior to me in combat. It was a shame that I really didn’t care about that. “You’re right,” I replied. “It’s not a good idea—for you. But you should have thought of that before you insulted the whole Popovic clan with your nonsense.”

  My spine rippled and my wings emerged from my back. “Let me make things clear. This is not a request. I’ll give you this one chance to fight me together. I won’t be so generous again.”

  Lyosha and Shura shared a look. They must have realized I was serious, because they gave each other twin, barely perceivable nods.

  In a flash, they were out of their seats and lunging toward me. They were ten times faster than a human, but to me, they might have very well been moving in slow motion.

  Lyosha came at me first, his claws extended, ready to tear my throat out. I dodged to the side, but Shura saw through the maneuver and was there to deliver what should have been a devastating blow to my heart.

  I grabbed her fist when it was inches away from my chest. “I tire of this game,” I said. In one single, jerky motion, I pulled, ripping her arm off.

  Shura let out a choked cry and stumbled back, clutching the stump where her arm had been. “You monster.”

  I laughed at her and dumped the disembodied arm to the floor. “Come now. You’re starting to sound like the mortals. How disappointing.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Lyosha snarled. “You’ve never been one of the undead, not really.”

  I didn’t let the accusation get to me. I knew what he was referring to. I might have claimed I was generous, but generosity was only in my vocabulary as a meaningless word, as a tool for deceit. In reality, I excelled at fighting groups, the larger the better. I also preferred to fight on my own. It was unusual among vampires and not something I advertised, but Shura and Lyosha were well aware of it.

  The strength of the undead lay in our constantly replenishing numbers. Ancient vampires had scores of revenants and ghouls at their disposal, replaceable tools we threw at anyone who dared to stand in our way. But up to a point, I’d always found this system tedious. I preferred to tear my enemies apart with my own hands instead of siccing inferior specimens on them.

  But that didn’t make Lyosha right. “I am and will always be an undead. And unlike you, my life will extend into eternity. You are weak and puny and you do not deserve to wield the powers you were granted.”

  After that, it was my turn to attack. I went for Lyosha first, because he’d been the one who’d truly challenged me. It was a piece of cake to pounce on him and bury my fist in his chest. Unlike Shura, I didn’t miss. Lyosha wasn’t fast enough to evade my attack. In a fraction of a second, I grabbed his heart and ripped it out.

  He didn’t fall immediately. The undead circulatory system allowed his veins to work for a little while longer, even in the absence of the main organ. He made a final grab for me, his eyes burning with terror and bloodlust. His fangs lengthened as he tried to bury them in my shoulder.

  I was close enough that he might have managed to save himself. With a strong dose of blood, he could have regenerated his own heart. But I wasn’t about to let my hard work go to waste. I was going to finish the job.

  Shadow magic curled around my fingers, grabbing him and shoving him away from me. Since I hadn’t used any ritual, it wasn’t strong enough to take him out. But it didn’t have to be. I just pinned him down and watched him bleed out like the pathetic lump of flesh he was.

  While I’d been busy with Lyosha, Shura had grabbed her arm from the floor and reattached it. But she was wise enough to not try to attack me again. “My Lord,” she simpered, “there is no need to take this any further. You’ve made your point.”

  “It’s cute that you think that. I’ll only make my point when my brother’s death has been avenged. And until that happens, everyone who stands in my way will be squashed. That includes you.”

  She stole a look at the other nobles in a desperate, but ultimately futile plea for assistance. Yuli smiled at her. “We fully support whatever decision Blood Count Roman Popovic takes in this matter.”

  “Of course you would say that, you little whore. You—”

  She never got the chance to finish the phrase. Within seconds, I was there, crushing her windpipe in my fist. “Be respectful. Yuli is above you in every possible way.”

  Vampires didn’t need to breathe, but they did need a head. She clawed at my hand, trying to free herself. It didn’t work and just like I’d done with her arm, I ripped her head off. Blood splattered over the pristine floor of the crypt as I dumped her beheaded form onto the marble tiles. She flailed around for a while longer, trying to track down her head. I poked the body with my foot, smiling at the head I was holding. H
er eyes were still wide and she was blinking madly. “P-Please,” she stammered, the sound coming out obscene from her ruined vocal cords.

  I ignored the request. “Goodbye, Shura. I hope your soul burns in demon hell fire.”

  It wasn’t a spell, but it very well could have been. The body on the floor stopped moving and the head stopped blinking. Her flesh started to decay, quickly turning into dust. It took less than a minute for me to be left holding only a skull.

  Satisfied that my job was done, I dumped the skull on the floor. With the corner of my eye, I stole a look at Lyosha’s remains. While I’d been fighting Shura, he’d succumbed to the unavoidable and was now nothing more than a crumbling skeleton. When I withdrew my magic, even the bones started to dissipate. Perfect.

  “Does anyone else have objections on how we’ll be handling this?” I asked the other nobles.

  “Like Yuli said, My Lord, you have our total support,” Latarra replied.

  “Good,” I said with a smirk. “Now, let’s get back to the plan. We can’t afford to underestimate Rossi or the werewolves. We will avenge my brother and we’ll protect this coven from the filth of the betrayers at the same time.”

  For many years, we’d stood by and watched as shifters took the side of the humans who hated and despised us. No longer. If the Brooks pack werewolves had thrown their lot in with those mortal anomalies, they needed to be destroyed—starting with the creatures who had murdered my brother.

  * * *

  Daimon

  “No! Please stop! Let me go! Let me out!”

  “I don’t think so, Imogen Julius. Your soul is mine. There’s no turning back for you.”

  I stood at the edge of the pool of shadows, watching as the huntress tried to claw her way out. It was a pointless attempt, of course. The werewolves had interrupted my ritual, but by the time they’d shown up, the important part had mostly been complete.