Beyond Here ...There Be Demons (The Master's Bloodline Series: Book 2)

Beyond Here…

(There Be Demons)

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The Master's Bloodline

Series: Book 2

By

McKinley Adams

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PUBLISHED BY:

McKinley Adams

Beyond Here…There Be Demons

Copyright © 2013 by McKinley Adams

This ebook, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author.

Table of Contents

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Chapter One

Werewolves! Their eerie howls struck through the forest like lightning—shocking me into bone-chilling awareness: I was alone and unarmed. Well, except for the axe I was carrying. But if it's as many wolves as I suspect it is, then having this axe is no better than carrying a friggin’ Tee Ball bat.

Fear tightened its grip on me the moment I looked up the path and realized that several Weres had already reached my cabin—and my family. Lisette, Quinn and our son Max were the only family I had left and now they were in danger. I need to get to them quickly. But first…

Pushing aside the tree I had just chopped down, I tightened my grip on the axe handle and waited for the wolves’ impending assault: They didn’t make me wait long.

Before I had even taken a breath, two Werewolves appeared out of the brush as if part of some devilish magic trick. Steam erupted through their nostrils before disappearing into the crisp winter air. I grasped the axe handle even more tightly. Without missing a beat, I swung, taking the head off my nearest attacker before whirling and swinging at his compatriot. After finding its mark in the midst of flesh and fur, the axe broke in two. Tossing it aside, I prepared for the next, inevitable strike.

Six, maybe seven Werewolves appeared out of nowhere and snarled at me, pausing only briefly to sniff their fallen pack mates. Their hesitation allowed just enough time for my fangs to drop and my fingers a chance to develop long, claw-like nails.

Now that I was battle-ready I charged them, scooping one up by the neck before twisting and then snapping it. The dun-colored ball of fur whelped once and then immediately went lifeless. I'd barely been given a moment to celebrate before I was slammed in the back by an unseen attacker who sent me hurtling toward a tree. After a brief flight, the tree and I met with mutual disdain.

"I am going to die and so is my family." Or at least that was the feeling that hit me as I touched my bloodied face, sore ribs and broken fang. Damn, what a difference a day makes.

Just yesterday morning (which was February the 14th by the way), I awoke within a tangled mass of thighs, elbows, long dark hair and fiery red locks. I lay between my two mates Lisette and Quinn, as the sunlight crept in from the edges of the wine-colored drapes. Quinn, with her smooth, ageless face looked dead to the world. But then again that was because she was. Unlike Lisette and me, Quinn—who was my Second, was a full-blooded Vampire. Snuggling closer to her, I gently placed my lips up against her cool, room temperature skin. Shifting slightly, she backed closer to me.

Morning, Quinn said softly, turning in preparation for a kiss. I gave her a quick peck and then quickly pulled back so as not to bombard her with my morning breath—something she never had to worry about. Apparently, death cured morning breath.

Lisette and I on the other hand, were both Human/Vampire hybrids— meaning we were alive and were forced to endure morning breath and all the other failings of humanity. Lisette—my First was a Dhampir: The offspring of a pregnant human woman who had been sired by a Vampire—-a very powerful Vampire; a Master. As a result, Lisette was stronger than humans and most Vampires. Her half-human nature also meant that she had no aversion to sunlight like other Vampires.

I on the other hand, was neither a Dhampir nor Vampire. I was a human injected with the Vampire virus. Several years ago, a bunch of U.S. and German scientists thought it would be fun to muck around with the grand design. The result: Me, Blaine LaShomb, a genetically engineered ex-soldier with enhanced strength, speed and stamina—something that comes in handy when you have two supernatural wives…ahem. But I've digressed from my point. The point is: Despite all of my physical gifts I now lay at the base of a tree with a kicked ass.

Using the tree as leverage, I dizzily scrambled to my feet. My legs felt as if they were made of rubber. Facetiously, I thought of asking the Weres for a time-out but figured it would have been useless. Obviously, they wanted me dead.

Although I had no actual proof, I had a pretty good clue as to who had sent the wolves after me and why: About two years ago I’d killed some very important people …er monsters. The first was Lord Philippe—a Master Vampire who was the head of one of the Three Great Houses; The House of Christus. The other was Nicholas, a genetically altered Werewolf who had by a very bloody election, been appointed Alpha—and not just Alpha over the five who were busy circling me. Nicholas was the appointed by the Governing Body of Vampires to be the leader of every single Werewolf in the world. He was the boss of bosses in the Werewolf community; The Alpha Prima.

With that being said, there was a bounty on my head. I’ll get into the intricacies of it later, because right now, I was dealing with five bloodthirsty Werewolves who were looking to eat me alive. Looks like I’m going to have to disappoint them. My family needed me. Besides, these guys weren’t so tough. I’d killed tougher opponents before and these pups were no exception. And as my confidence returned …I summoned my resolve.

In unison, the five remaining Weres charged me, sending dirt and debris flying into the air as hairy, muscular limbs propelled them forward. I leapt straight up, their momentum forcing them past me, sending one of them straight into a tree. The tree snapped in half as if it had been made of straw and not pine. Quickly, I snatched up the wolf that’d been unfortunate and dumb enough to run headlong into the tree. He’d been dazed, but was no less deadly than his smarter cousins. Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, I used my free hand to wrench his neck in the opposite direction. The snap told me Rover was no longer among the living. His four brothers skidded to a halt, kicking up dirt and dead leaves as they attempted to change directions.

Looking down, I realized I was still holding onto body of the wolf I’d just slain. I tossed him aside casually. The wolves paused briefly. Apparently, seeing one more of them dead forced the human brains behind those yellow lupine eyes to reassess the situation. I smiled at them briefly.

Didn’t know it would be this hard to stop me did ya? Let’s finish this! For emphasis I gave them a loud, throaty roar that would probably leave me hoarse in the morning. Moments later, the ground was stained blood: Theirs as well as mine.

Covered in blood and limping badly, I continued up the path and toward home as fast as my injured leg would carry me. Lisette, Quinn and I were bound mates, meaning the three of us shared a telepathic bond. The fact that I couldn’t hear them anymore bothered me terribly. And after what seemed like an eternity, I stepped onto the porch.

The front door had been torn off the hinges and lay flat on the floor like an unwelcome mat. The deathly silent house still wore the scent of the musty, lingering, intruders. I could also smell blood; lots and lots of blood. Its foreign, earthy scent told me that most of it was Werewolf, but I could also smell the blood of my mates. I had to practically will my heart not to break.

I spotted a naked, headless body on the floor near the fireplace. Werewolves revert to their human form after death and I breathed a silent prayer of relief that the corpse was neither Dhampir nor Vampire.

Carefully, I checked every room in the house, occasionally finding a bloodstained, naked body, but none had been of my family. I was grateful, but not especially hopeful especially since I still couldn’t establish a link with Lisette or Quinn.

I made my way toward the back door, which had also been torn off its hinges. But judging from the way the door lay on the back porch, it had been knocked down from inside the house and not outside. Sniffing, the air, I carefully walked through the threshold and out the door, finding where Lisette and Quinn had made their stand. Several ripped and sliced Werewolf bodies littered the ground. Lisette, like me, preferred to use her teeth and nails whereas Quinn preferred the use of various knives and short swords. I could almost tell which of my mates killed which wolf.

The Weres with cleanly sliced wounds had been killed by Quinn. I would have been proud had I not seen her shredded body lying on the frost-covered ground. Her neck and abdomen had been ripped to shreds, undoubtedly slashed by thick canine teeth and claws. Blood pooled near her body. Lisette lay several feet away from her in much the same condition. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, I wanted to destroy, but I needed to remain level-headed. My son was gone. They had come for Max.

Chapter Two

I spared a moment or two to carry my mates’ bodies into the house before starting the search for Max. I refuse to allow some forest creature to feed off of their corpses before I had a chance to bury them, especially since I had no idea when that would be. After placing their bodies in our bedroom and locking the door, I began searching for my son.

I followed the Werewolves scent for almost a full day before losing them near the river, deducing that they’d probably escaped in boats or perhaps some other type of vehicle. I walked along the river until I came upon a grayed, weatherworn dock jutting out into the river. Standing on the on the edge of the river, I stepped into the icy, fast-moving water. I didn’t know why, maybe it was to wash off my blood-soaked clothes or maybe I was hoping the river would wash away my grief. I was wrong on both accounts.

What the hell was I going to do? I could follow the river on foot and hope to catch up, but ultimately it would prove foolish since I had no idea in which direction they'd escaped; north or south. I suspected they’d headed north, but didn’t want to take the chance of going several dozen miles in the wrong direction.

There was but a single thought that gave me hope. Someone and I suspected who, wanted my son alive. If not, his body would be laying beside my two mates. Ok. It’s time to formulate a…something. And for the first time in what felt like forever I was stuck without some sort of plan of action.

By the next morning, I’d reached my cabin. My leg still hurt like a sonuvabitch and I was cold, but I forced myself on. I’d been on the move for more than twenty-four hours, but my half-Vamp metabolism allowed me to go without sleep for several days. Unfortunately, that same metabolism causes me to crave blood and I was reaching the limits of my abilities. I needed blood—and not just any old blood. I needed Vampire blood. I could survive on regular old human food for weeks, but eventually, I needed the real thing. I’d gotten most of my sustenance from Quinn, but that was weeks ago, and I was due for a refill. Especially since I’d exerted so much energy fighting and tracking the bastards who’d just come and destroyed my world. They will pay. That I promise, but first things first.

The sun had just peaked over the mountains and over into our valley cabin just outside of Townsend, Tennessee. After the humans fell to the Vampires, we sought a solitary life away from humanity and there was nothing more solitary than Townsend. Before the war, Townsend only boasted several hundred residents. Nowadays, it was probably less than a hundred. That suited us just fine. It doesn't matter if it's a human, Vampire or Werewolf; no one can be trusted, which was why we tried our best to stay away from everyone. The world was now crawling with opportunists who’d just as soon kill you for the belt around your waist. Not that we had much to worry about. Both I and my mates were extremely close to the Master’s Bloodline, meaning we were stronger than your average human, Vampire and any Werewolf that hadn’t been genetically altered. Had it only been a handful or so of wolves, my mates would have bested them easy, but apparently, someone had sent a friggin’ legion after us. Even I had trouble handling the few that had come after me. Of course I’m not as strong as I should be: nowadays I don’t drink nearly enough blood to enable me to operate at full strength.

And that was the moment in which I realized that I’d been standing on my porch for about twenty minutes now, unable to walk inside the house. Still procrastinating, I sat down on the cold, wooden steps and watched the sun as it finished its ascent over the mountain. Finally, sadness overtook me and I sobbed uncontrollably.

It was very late in the morning before I’d gotten up the nerve to bury my fallen mates. And what was worse, the hard, frozen ground made digging even more difficult. Standing over the grave I’d just dug, I looked down at it wondering just how in the world I would be able to bring myself to place the bodies of my beloved down into that cold pit. To my surprise, an amusing thought came to mind and forced a slight smile onto my lips.

Perhaps I should have them stuffed, I said aloud and to no one in particular.

Hold on, put down your stones; I was only kidding. Quinn was a full Vampire and under normal circumstances would outlive Lisette and me, who were mortal. There was a running joke between the three of us that after Lisette and I die, Quinn wouldn’t bother to bury us, she’d simply have us stuffed. Jokingly, Quinn had also said she’d place us in a pair of rocking chairs facing each other. And every so often she’d nudge us with her foot so that we would rock back a forth.

I blinked back a tear, the smile still on my lips. Quinn had a dark sense of humor that was hilarious and frightening all at once. Lisette on the other hand was more straight-laced and delivered her humor in such a deadpan manner that it often took a moment or two to realize she was only joking. I tended to behave more human than my two counterparts because I joked often and laughed hard. Our son Max had a similar sense of humor. Perhaps that meant I had the sensibilities of a five year old boy…hmm.

Max was born to Lisette and I about two years ago, but now had the size and wit of a five or six year old human boy. His rapid aging is due to his mother being a Dhampir. Dhampirs age at around two to three times the rate of humans up until around the age of puberty and then the aging process begins to slow. Lisette herself was only about seventeen years old, but looked and behaved like a woman in her late twenties to early thirties. She’d probably look that way for the next forty or fifty years. My physiology is similar to that of a Dhampir, meaning I was aging slowly as well.

Dhampirs, like Vampires, have never been able to conceive, which makes my son an anomaly. Lord Sergott, a several centuries old Master Vampire, wants him for some dastardly purpose, but exactly what he plans to do with my son, I’m unsure. Whatever it is can’t be good, but the fact that they took him alive gave me hope. And that’s exactly where I’d planned to start looking for my missing boy: At Lord Sergott’s doorstep. Well as soon as I'm able to find said doorstep. Lord Sergott, who was once believed to be dead, is apparently well-connected and well financed. That will either make it very easy to find him or extremely difficult. We shall see.

Feeling like I had lead weights attached to my feet, I slowly pushed open my bedroom door. As I neared the blood-soaked bed, I allowed my tears to fall freely, not bothering to wipe them from my face. I had to accept that my mates were lost to me. I slowly set myself to the ugly task of preparing them for burial.

Meticulously, I cleaned Lisette’s wounds, going over her bronze, muscular body with the softest of touches. I had brushed back her hair, leaving her swarthy locks flowing along the sides of her face. And although I knew it was useless, I dressed her wounds with makeshift gauze because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her in the ground ripped and broken. As best I could, I would make her as beautiful in death as she was in life.

Lisette and I had only been given three short years together, but we’d lived a lifetime. We'd met after I’d been traveling through the mountains for nearly six months and stumbled upon a small town in West Virginia. Lisette, along with the