Cursed: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Read online

  Cursed: Piper

  A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance

  Jami Brumfield and Michelle Fox

  Book Description

  I am lost, broken, desperate. I awakened a centuries-old curse, and the hunter has now become the hunted. The monster has chased me across the globe, leaving bodies and devastation in its wake. My only refuge is to become a blood courtesan and seek sanctuary among the vampires. Still the beast haunts me.

  Sebastian becomes my beacon in the darkness. He is my protector, and while he can keep me safe, I'll never be free so long as the monster lives. His plan to use me as bait is terrifying. Am I willing to trust him with my life - or should I let another stranger tame the beast that threatens to tear apart my soul?

  Will the curse be lifted or am I doomed to remain in the darkness... alone with my demon?

  Disclaimer and Copyright

  Copyright © 2016/2017 Jami Brumfield

  Proofreading and Editing by Michele E. Gwynn

  Cover Artist: Monica La Porta

  This ebook is licensed for your personal entertainment and enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with someone else, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work. This book is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents depicted herein are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Piper

  “GREGORY JAMES MASTERS.”

  The heavily tattooed and overly pierced, muscle man turned toward my voice when I called out his name. I swear there was an evil glint in those brown eyes before he bolted, knocking me down in the process.

  Bastard! I hated it when deadbeat dads and cheaters ran. I jumped up, slapping away random hands from good Samaritans that offered help, and took off after him. It wasn’t like the man had many friends in Chinatown, the problem was the crowded streets gave him a sea of faces to hide in, and his maneuver of knocking me off balance, gave him a head start. Instinct told me to go left. I weaved in and out of the people as I made my way over the beat up concrete sidewalks. A good private investigator rarely wore heels. Tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt were the only way to go when you were in pursuit of a criminal.

  Instinct was right. I saw a blur of a red tank top and tattoo-sleeved arm turn down an alley only a few meters ahead of me. Picking up my pace, I found my stride and followed. The man knew I was coming. His soon to be ex-wife told me as much. So why was he running? This was supposed to be a simple job. Hand him the papers, take the picture, and turn in the paperwork for a nice little paycheck. Simple, my rear end!

  He ducked into the back door of a building just as I turned the corner. I followed, and instantly regretted my decision the moment I walked into the moldy and booze-coated bar. The sickly-sweet scent of fermented alcohol assaulted my senses and made my stomach flip. The place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. I made a mental note to put a call into the health department. The dive was in dire need of an inspection.

  I slowed my movements because I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The hair standing at attention on my arms and neck told me whatever it was couldn’t be good. This place reeked of cigarette smoke, lost souls, and bad juju. Resisting the urge to turn around and run out the door, I plowed forward. Ever since that night in Egypt, at the Tomb a couple of months ago, I had been making bad choices, and this one was another example of not listening to my gut. When would I learn, and why was I so hell-bent on hurting myself? These questions echoed through my mind as I walked into a trap set up by my target. The answer, obviously not anytime soon.

  He was surrounded by five other guys, each one looked nastier than the next. They were holding weapons that could do some major damage to me, like pool sticks and baseball bats. One even held a butcher’s knife. The glint from the dangerous looking blade only urged on the need to protect and defeat. When this was over, I would need to get a shrink to find out why I was insistent on chasing death. Part of me yelled ‘Run’, but the two men that came up behind me from the bar made escape an impossible task. I was trapped. The only way out was to fight. My hand went to my side, expecting to feel the cool steel of the handgun. When I came up with empty air in the hip holster I knew what had happened before I even looked at Gregory James Masters. He held my gun in his hand, an evil grin spreading across his rugged face.

  “Okay, Gregory James Masters, I am so going to serve up your papers on a platter when this is all over,” I told him as I readied for the attack. I planted my feet into the sticky red carpet and pulled out the dagger sheathed at my side. The handgun would bring about unnecessary blood and possible death anyway, which wasn’t on my agenda today. By the looks of the men in front of me, their sheer size told me the stun gun I wore on my other hip would do little to no damage, so I opted for the hand to hand combat weapon. A dagger would require closer proximity, and would leave behind some blood, but fatalities were unlikely. Thankfully, Gregory agreed with the logic behind no gun use because he dropped the weapon on the floor and kicked it out of the way.

  The dark-skinned man to Gregory’s left came at me wielding a baseball bat. He swung and missed as I dodged, sinking down to the floor, and kicking his feet out from underneath him. On his way down, I sliced into one of his Achilles’ heels to make sure he stayed down. It would mean a miserable recovery time for the man, but his life would be spared. This was about delivering divorce papers, not taking on dangerous criminals in a death match.

  Two men attacked simultaneously after watching me take down the first guy. I managed to dodge the butcher knife, but was hit in my mid-section by the pool stick. The impact knocked the air out of me and sent be flying backward. The man had strength, but I’d bested better. Being a female detective, I had to learn to fight harder than my male counterparts. I was taught to use their strength against them. The bigger they are, the harder they fall is a very true statement in most cases. I rebounded quickly and went on the defense as both men grinned in delight, thinking they had the upper hand. I almost felt sorry for them. I steadied myself, and readied for their attack. So focused on the two in front of me, I didn’t see the ones that circled behind me until it was too late. A weapon of some sort slammed into my back, rammed into my kidney, and knocked the air out of my lungs. As I crumpled to the ground in pain, I pulled out the stun gun holstered at my side, but was unable to defend myself as multiple men wailed on me. My vision blurred as more jabs, kicks, and punches hit the surface of my body on all sides. I don’t know if I took any of them out with the weapons in my hands because a familiar scream erupted from my lips, and I lost consciousness.

  *****

  A moan escaped my mouth as I opened my eyes. Every part of my body ached. The smell of copper and sulfur assaulted my senses first. It felt as though my eyes were glued shut. My first thought was I died, but death wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave me in excruciating pain, would it?

  I slowly stood up, aches and pains screaming from every inch of my body. Echoes of violent waves of agony made the edges of my vision go dark. With each movement, I feared I’d pass out, but instinct warned me to get out. Caked in blood, bodies contorted in death surrounded me. What the hell happened? How the hell did I survive the attack?

  My breathing was labored from pain
and fear as I tried to focus on my surroundings. My body was covered in sweat and red, sticky liquid, some of which had hardened into a disgusting mask on the surface of my skin. I pushed my black hair back off my face and glanced up at the ceiling fan that offered a slight cooling breeze, which carried the scent of death along with it. You must leave, there is nothing you can do for these souls. The warning seized my heart like a vice grip. What if whatever did this returned to finish the job? It wasn’t the first time I’d been attacked and spared. Why me?

  How was I the only one to survive an attack of eight men? I was trained in martial arts, but these bodies were far from bruised and beaten. They were dead. Ripped to shreds. The eyes of the men were frozen open in fear, staring at me. A shiver passed through me when I found Gregory’s body. His abdomen had been ripped open, entrails pulled out, his neck severed from his body, his head laid inches from his shoulders. It was worse than any scene I’d witnessed in a horror film, perhaps because I was a part of it, and I had no memory of what happened. Part of me felt like I should call the cops, the paramedics, but there was no saving these men. I limped my way out of the bar, taking solace in the darkness of night. When I got some distance between me and the nightmare I left behind, I would call the authorities.

  Chapter Two

  Sebastian

  THE COPPERY SMELL OF BLOOD assaulted my senses long before I entered the dingy bar. Any vampire walking by this location would’ve been lured into the establishment by scent alone, not to mention, the place was a well-known supernatural roadhouse bar, which was why I was called in to help with the investigation. There were a lot of pieces to this jigsaw puzzle, and my gift would help put some of those parts in the correct place. Forensics would reveal the missing bodies were vampires, there was no question of that. The others would require DNA testing to determine what supernatural or human species they were.

  One thing science or my power wouldn’t answer was if the woman who called in the massacre at a payphone down the street was a vampire or a human. If she was a vampire, I’d assume she’d call the council, but there wasn’t any notification from them. The only call I got was from the human police. My contact on the council responded back fifteen minutes ago and told me they had no notification of the crime. The unidentified woman could’ve thought the vampires’ bodies would take care of themselves, and may be one of the few of our kind that had a soft spot for the humans, which would’ve encouraged her to call the police, but why not the council? Was she in hiding? Was she the one who did this? Not calling the council left more questions than answers.

  The evidence of multiple vampire deaths was the scent of their blood mixed with the remaining human bodies. There was also a distinct smell on the air, one I hadn’t encountered in a long time, so long that I couldn’t place my finger on its identity. Could it be the woman? Perhaps.

  I’d seen death, destruction, devastation, and plenty of crime scenes over the years. No amount of preparation could get me comfortable with viewing these scenes. You’d think after a couple of centuries I’d be desensitized to gruesome deaths, but one thing I have learned from years of existing as a vampire, life is priceless.

  It wasn’t just the blood dripping from the corners, the bar, jukebox, and ceilings. It wasn’t even the dismembered body parts that were strewn across the musty, alcohol-laden location. It was the terror frozen on their faces that gripped my empty soul. Whoever, or whatever did this, was a monster. One that horrified its victims before it killed them.

  “Is the crime scene ready to be cleaned?” I asked detective Marshall, my good friend and police contact. There wasn’t much for the vampire side of things to sparkle up, but I needed to take notes and see what psychic energy I could discern from the items found at the sight. I preferred to do that when the humans were out of the way.

  “It is. The CSI have already examined the scene. I’m afraid they didn’t find much.” The grim look on my old friend’s face told me he didn’t expect to find the killer. I knew he feared it was a supernatural creature, and from the looks of the devastation, I was starting to think the same thing. No human could rip bodies to shreds like this without some sort of inhuman power behind them.

  “That is because their science trained minds are having a hard time grasping the supernatural. This was obviously an attack by some sort of creature.”

  “Any thoughts on what it was?”

  I shook my head, and frowned as I looked around the room. “No. I haven’t seen anything like this since the crusades.” Those were bloody, lawless times. Death was feared, but human life was of no consequence to criminals. At least in today’s age, people and paranormal beings put more value on life, most of the time.

  “Do you think you can find out more by doing your thing?” Marshall waved his pen in the air.

  I frowned as I looked around. My fingers itched to wrap around some of the remaining items at the crime scene. “I’ve been looking for any kind of personal object to help me with that, but there isn’t much left.”

  Marshall grinned, a sparkle lighting his hazel eyes. “I believe I can help with that.” He handed me a crime scene evidence bag with a woman’s bracelet inside. “I also have a dagger that might be of some use.”

  I took the bag and pulled out the bracelet. “Pretty,” I remarked to no one. The thin silver trinket had a couple of charms attached to it, and it was coated in human blood, mixed with that distinct, familiar scent. It was going to drive me mad until I remembered what that scent was.

  “Anything?” Marshall’s tone was impatient.

  I shook my head, wrapped my fingers around the soft metal jewelry, and closed my eyes, allowing myself to focus on the energy imprinted on the item. A fight broke out in front of me. Eight men, some human, some vampires, were attacking a gorgeous brunette. She fought with spirit, grace, and the fluidity of a trained fighter. Despite her obvious martial arts training, she was overpowered. As the gang piled on top of her, I felt something seize my heart. I knew it was an imprint on time. There was no way I could help her, but something inside me wanted to, something needed to step in and protect her. Was this the woman that called the police? I shook my head. There was little I could do but watch as the men beat the life out of her.

  I turned away from the battle for a moment. Maybe there was some sort of clue as to who ripped the men and vampires to shreds around the room. They were obviously distracted. The killer could have been watching the scene. Maybe he was as disgusted with the whole thing as I was.

  By the time I turned back to the slaughter, a gargoyle was taking out the entire gang of men. The woman was nowhere to be found. The gruesome scene played out to the bitter end.

  “Anything?” Marshall asked, his hand extended to take the bracelet back.

  I frowned as I handed it over. “I think the woman that made the call escaped an attack by the men who were killed.”

  “And the killer?”

  “Supernatural creature. We’ll take the case from here.”

  “Another vampire?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Marshall shook his head. “Not really. Curiosity killed the cat. I prefer to be in the dark with these paranormal matters as much as possible.”

  “Will you handle the cover up?” I asked him as I looked around the room again, committing the scene to memory. He’d send photographs, and when it was possible, more items that I could use to rewind the psychic energy of the scene.

  “Yes. I’ll take care of it.” He bagged the evidence. “Can I report back to my boss that we won’t have any more of these massacres?”

  “We’ll do our best to take care of the killer as quickly as possible and minimize the damage in the process.” I knew it was a promise we’d have a hard time fulfilling. Gargoyles were nasty creatures, and a rogue gargoyle on the loose in town was going to be difficult to contain.

  Chapter Three

  Piper

  THE NEON LIGHTS OF club Jaded flickered to its own beat. It reminded me of
Morse code. My desire to decipher the short and long blinks was overridden by my instinct to stay alive. I smoothed down the red satin dress, and steadied myself in the four inch heels that did nothing but perk up my ass and thin out my calves. If I was attacked, they’d have to be removed, and I’d be running barefoot with nothing more than a thin layer of fishnet stockings to protect my feet. If the damn heels weren’t so flimsy they might make a decent weapon in a pinch, but these were worthless. I never understood the idea of fashion over comfort. Being raised by a single father probably had a lot to do with my tomboy persona. But that was an argument for another day. I needed to focus on the task at hand. I needed this job. I needed the sanctuary the vampires could provide. Without them, I wouldn’t last much longer. The massacre that happened last week was evidence of that. I was thankful to be alive, lucky at that. There was no guarantee I would survive another fight if the monster attacked again.

  The monster had chased me to the ends of the Earth. Battle after battle, kill after kill, I was still standing, barely. The injuries I was still healing from were constant reminders of how close I was to losing my life again. It was time to stop standing alone and get help. If that meant I needed to sell what was left of my soul to the blood suckers of the night, then so be it. It was better to be alive than dead.

  I took one last look at my appearance in the side mirror on my SUV. The stranger staring back at me was almost unrecognizable. My long black hair, which was usually styled in a side braid, was loose and wavy. My pale, almost porcelain face was painted up like a doll. Crimson red lipstick accented my pouty, bow-shaped lips, lips that had gotten me out of more than one sticky situation. They were the best gift my mother had ever given me. I just hoped they would help me in this circumstance as well. I used black kohl eyeliner to magnify my second-best asset, my ice blue eyes. A little blush, and a quick fluff of my hair, and I was ready to impress. Now, if I could just keep the bile from rising, I’d be great.