Half Blood Rising

Chapter 1

The creature in front of me was disgusting. Everything about him reeked of death, and his darkness

brushed against me like black boiling tar in the blazing heat of summer. I hated being here with him,

repeating the same thing all over again. The werewolf was in his human form, so I had to be careful. I’d

been tracking him every night for the past seven days.

The humidity in this part of Ukraine was unbearable this time of year, as usual, but at least a drizzle of

rain had begun to fall. An annoying mosquito was buzzing around my ear, but I couldn’t lose focus now.

I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off that bastard.

His breathing was whizzed, and saliva was trickling from his mouth. I inhaled, sensing his dirty energy

—his aura. It was repulsive, and he deserved to die for all the terrible things he’d done to others.

“Pretty, you don’t have to do this. I have over five hundred Hryvnia in my side pocket. Take it and let me

go,” he said, his voice creepy, the tones vibrating inside my chest. I had to try and keep it together. The

pain of his victims—children and little girls—affected me so much tonight; he was rotten from the inside

out, and I had to clear my mind, stop thinking about it.

I gripped my knife tighter, cutting the circulation to my fingers. What had started as a drizzle was now

becoming heavier—a possible storm was approaching—dark clouds were gathering in the south, but

the moon still shone brightly above me.

I’d heard many stories about him, but he had been careful. Almost too careful. He had watched the Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

elementary schools, particularly kindergarteners in the early mornings. He’d been selective when

choosing his victims.

A while back he’d managed to escape prison, and the High Council seemed useless. It had taken me

some time to figure out his modus operandi and finally track him down. I’d yet to see his darker form,

but what I had sensed had been enough. I’d witnessed a lot of disgusting shit in my short life as a half-

vampire. I had been doing this for way too long, killing and eliminating creatures that didn’t deserve to

walk on this earth.

“This will be quick, although you deserve to die slowly and very, very painfully,” I said through gritted

teeth, staring at his dark filthy hair and almost-translucent skin. He was skinny, his bones protruded,

and he looked malnourished. He wore a loose grey shirt that was stained in what appeared to be blood.

Another vision. Damn it. Not now… I really had to focus on the task at hand, but these visions were

hard to ignore.

I was seeing him leaning over a little girl, and he was panting with excitement. She couldn’t have been

more than eleven years old. Tears were slipping down her cheeks. She was petrified, seeing him in his

true form. Drool was dripping from his fangs and clinging to his matted dark fur. She parted her lips …

I quickly shook my head, pushing the vile images out of my mind. This had gone on for far too long. I

couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t bear seeing the victims… their torture. It was just too much.

Earlier on, he hadn’t expected me to attack. I had lunged forward, crouching low at the same time, and

on a quick turn of my foot, I’d caught him off guard, then sliced his leg from Achilles heel to calf—the

bastard couldn’t run any longer. My vampire speed, agility, and strength had always given me an

advantage, allowing me to strike within a moment’s notice.

My fangs were now descended. I blocked his pitiful strike, kicking him to the ground and ramming my

knee into his chest as he struggled against me. I didn’t want to touch him; sweat was dripping down my

face. Every time my skin encountered his, I saw more and more despicable images of his previous

victims. I could feel their pain—their screams and whimpers echoed in my mind. This was the only

downside of being a half-vampire and trying to do the right thing. I wasn’t immune to his darkness: the

other side of me, the “unknown” allowed me to soak it all in.

“Please, take my money… they all wanted it,” he howled. Luckily, we weren’t in a built-up area. The

alley was deserted. His pupils dilated; he feared death—feared what was coming for him.

“Even children? You’re a sick piece of shit who feeds on innocent souls, a vile being who deserves to

burn in hell, if such a thing exists,” I roared, and then plunged my knife into the side of his neck. I could

have bitten him, but I didn’t want to be affected by his blood days later. He tried to grab me, but I

twisted the blade, feeling sick to my stomach. His dark magic began spreading everywhere, creeping

into my skin, my nails, and hair. I stared at him, wondering if there was another way, but he deserved

something much worse. I had done him a favour.

Now the pain of his victims flooded my energy, and this was the part I hated the most.

“Money, take my money,” he rasped in desperation and then began to shift into a wolf, but his energy

wouldn’t save him now. It was fading, so maybe this was one of the side effects of his dark, twisted

magic. I lifted myself up from the ground, feeling light-headed and suddenly exhausted. It was most

likely from hunger (I hadn’t eaten all day), or the fact that I had known some of the victims.

By the time he was dead, I didn’t feel the satisfaction I’d expected from ending his life. Heavy sheets of

rain were beginning to form puddles along the asphalt, and that bastard’s eyes were still open. I leaned

against the wall and took a deep breath, waiting for the nausea to pass. I knew that these dreadful

emotions and images would stay with me for a while.

It was time to call this in. Tristan was my contact in the council, and he needed to take care of the body.

Lviv was a cosmopolitan city when it came to supernatural creatures. Being only half-vampire

complicated things. I was something else entirely: an outcast, someone who didn’t really belong

anywhere. No one in the human world wanted to hire me because I didn’t have official papers.

Vampire’s hung around and lived in nests—they had their communities underground and they worked

together. Most of them didn’t want half-breeds within their ranks. There weren’t many jobs in Lviv for

supernaturals, anyway. Ukraine was poor, and even humans struggled in the job market.

Several years ago, I’d awakened in a dark alley with no recollection of who I was, or why I was there. I

had suspected that my humanity was gone forever. A vampire had attacked me, turning me into a

monster—the fangs had sort of given it away—completely turning my life upside down. That was only

the beginning of my nightmare.

For hours I’d wandered the streets, asking people for help, trying to remember what had happened, but

no one was willing to assist me. The police had sent me away, too. Besides, I couldn’t remember how

I’d gotten to Lviv in the first place, and I didn’t speak the language. Hungry, cold, and homeless. Yeah,

it was a great kick off. I had a whole new life an no idea how to live it.

It took me a while to get used to living on the streets without any memories—being no one. Whoever

turned me had left me without money or any means of getting by. There had been a small note inside

my pocket with what I assumed was my name—Jaymin Clarence. I couldn’t have been more than

nineteen years old when I was turned.

In a short period of time, I had to learn how to survive amongst other supernatural creatures in this

huge city without any language skills. Try communicating with people and having no idea how to speak

the language. I couldn’t even read the damn street signs. It was fun … I had the worst maker in the

history of ever.

There was no point thinking of this now, but the past always had a way of catching up with me every

time I killed another convict. My body was hurting, and it was raining heavily now—a freaking

downpour. It was still humid, and I hated being wet (kind of like a cat), especially now when I was just

about to meet up with Tristan. I had a crush on the guy. Yeah, it was a little silly, but he’d always treated

me like a person, not an outcast. He made me feel … normal. Maybe that was the reason.

I walked to the nearest pay phone, wondering where I was going to sleep tonight. This was always my

predicament when it rained, but first I had to get some decent food into my stomach. And for that, I

needed to see Tristan. He had to pay me for a job well done.

There weren’t many people on the streets at this time of night, and I found some loose change in the

booth, so the pay phone was free. He picked up on the first ring, and I gave him the location. This was

how it always worked between us. Tristan worked for the High Council in the Vampire Division. I trusted

him and we had an understanding. Sometimes he would tip me off about a certain creature that needed

to be eliminated, but most of the time, I tracked them myself. He always paid me, no questions asked.

Obviously, he was generously compensated for every corpse I turned over to him, so it was kind of a

win-win situation for both of us.

Most humans or supernaturals: vampires, witches, warlocks, shifters, or even fae didn’t trust me. To

them, I was an unworthy half-vamp, just a crossbreed with no memories. I had no competition in this

line of work, but I always had to be watchful.

Several minutes later, I went back to the alley where I’d left the corpse of the werewolf and then waited.

A black Cadillac arrived fifteen minutes later, but this time, something immediately felt off. Tristan

climbed out of the passenger seat, smiling, his eyes found me instantly. He was handsome, and it

bothered me that I always looked like a drowned rat in front of him. My thin black hair was tangled, and

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d brushed it. I was homeless, so I never looked decent enough.

I didn’t think I was ugly, but most men—supernatural or human—avoided me; they seemed scared of

me. My nose was small, and I had wide blue eyes. I was wearing old faded jeans with large holes in the

knees, and a loose black T-shirt. Seconds later, I realised Tristan wasn’t alone.

My heart skipped a beat when the other guy struggled to get out of the passenger seat. He was

overweight with a large chin and no neck to speak of. My anxiety shot through the roof when I sensed

he was a vampire, too. This wasn’t good, but I had a gaping hole in my stomach where food should’ve

been. I had no money, and I hadn’t eaten in about two days. My energy was slowly diminishing. Tristan

needed to pay me no matter what.

“Hey, Jaymin,” Tristan welcomed me, then his eyes diverted to the corpse of the werewolf—well, what

was left of him. His dark energy was still inside me, penetrating and disturbing my own. “Great job.

Come over here, I want you to meet someone; one of your own kind.”

Anger rippled through me, but I decided to stay calm and then slowly approached them. The fatty’s

eyes roamed over my body, and he frowned. His aura was odd, twisted, and his blood smelled of

arsenic. Yes, I sensed that, too.

“What are you, dear?” he asked straight away. “You ain’t a full vampire, but you ain’t a human, either.”

There was no “hi,” no proper introduction, just straight to that invasive question. My stomach contracted

with unease. I wasn’t planning to give him an answer.

I glanced around, expecting other council members to jump out from around the corner, but the

darkened streets were empty. It was just us for now. Maybe I was being too paranoid, but Tristan had

never let me down before. We had an agreement.

“Tristan, check the body, he’s the one from your list,” I said, emphasising the last word and completely

ignoring the fatty. I tended not to speak to other vampires.

Tristan’s upper lip twitched, but he nodded. He seemed nervous. The other vampire was probably

annoyed by the fact that I wasn’t paying attention to him. Well, I didn’t care.

“Jay, this is Councillor Roberts,” Tristan said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He insisted on meeting

you.”

“Well, on the contrary, I’d rather not speak to anyone on the council and remain anonymous, so cash

in, Tris,” I snapped, aggravated because he’d betrayed me. My energy spiked, and I smelled blood. I

was willing to bet that the councillor hadn’t bloody known I’d ever existed; he must have just found out.

Why did Tristan have to say anything at all? Maybe he’d been forced. Well, now he’d completely

screwed me over.

I’d heard that the High Council experimented on half-breeds like me, and that’s why I’d always avoided

their officials. Sweat gathered along my brow, and I switched my weight to the side. I just wanted to get

paid so I could eat, but this vampire kept staring at me like he was ready to drain me.

“Hold up, Mr. Walker. You said Jaymin has been killing convicts for a long while now,” the council

member said, lifting his hand like he wanted to block Tristan from saying anything more, and then

turned his attention towards me. “Your reputation proceeds you, and several people higher up on the

council want to know a few things about you.”

He had chunky, sausage-like fingers and dirty nails. My breathing was uneven—this normally

happened after I’d killed someone, but right now, my anxiety was rising fast. Chill bumps rose all over

my body, and my heart rate sped up. Technically I wasn’t supposed to have a heartbeat. Well, that’s

what Melody, my closest friend said, but for some reason, many of my human genes had remained

active after I’d turned. Which was another reason why I had to eat human food, too.

“If you think I’m going to answer your questions, or go anywhere with you, then you’re a fool. I don’t

appreciate the council crawling its arse into my personal business,” I said, much more aggressively

than I’d intended. Most of the time, I had a problem controlling my mouth—sort of like now.

Under most normal circumstances, other creatures scared the life out of me, especially the ones with

fangs, but I’d never allowed anyone to get close enough. Once I started tracking someone, I became

ruthless.

“You can answer my questions right here, or we do have other methods,” Roberts stated, taking a step

towards me. “This has been going on for far too long. Your magic is unique, and that’s what concerns

us the most.”

I shot Tristan a nasty and hateful look, calculating my next move. I couldn’t just leave, I still needed to

get paid, but that vampire bastard was getting on my nerves. He wasn’t going to let me go without

concrete answers. And I wasn’t willing to tell him a bloody thing about myself or my magic.

“Screw you—screw both of you,” I finally snapped, losing my cool.

Tristan opened his mouth, probably to tell me to calm the hell down, while the fatty attempted to grab

me. My fangs descended and blood rushed to my ears. I was an inch away from sinking my fangs into

the councillor’s fat no-neck, but he must have used some sort of spell that prevented me from attacking

him. I felt myself being pushed backwards, then I stumbled a bit. What the hell?

It was then that I knew I had to get out of there if I wanted to survive, and this time, without getting

paid.