Second Lineage (The First Blood Series Book 2) Read online

  I must've been because Raven stepped inside, his sword at the ready.

  "This is a bad idea," I spat under my breath before following him into the even stronger stench filled room.

  The space was larger than I'd expected, almost the same size as the room with the stairs, and our necromancer was huddled in the far corner. A few paces inside, I stopped, blocking the door in case he decided to make a run for it. This let Raven cross the room to the black cloaked, shaking form. He'd curled into a ball, almost blending into the dark colored bricks of the wall.

  "Stand up," Raven growled, his voice dropping almost an octave from the rage simmering under the surface. I hadn't realized how angry he was until this moment. Either he didn't like necromancers, or this one had crossed too far over a line. Since he may have given that woman a heart attack with his creatures, there may not be any coming back from that.

  The shadowed man stood, sniffling and crying. When Raven ordered him to lower his hood, he did with slow, jerky motions. Even Raven gasped a little at the sight of the teenage boy standing before us.

  He was thin, his cheeks sallow and eyes a bit sunk into his face. In fact, he looked so malnourished I would've reached for my phone and dialed an ambulance for him right away. The skin that covered his bones was an ashen hue that made the poor kid appear undead himself.

  "Explain," Raven growled, regaining his composure much faster than I did from the shock. The hood of the cloak slipped, revealing a mop of dull, sandy blond hair as the teenager shook his head. "That wasn't up for negotiation."

  "I can't," the boy croaked, taking a step back so he was flush against the wall.

  "And why not?"

  "They'll kill me."

  I couldn't see Raven's face, but I could see his eyes narrow as he asked, "Who?"

  A squeak behind me caught my attention and I turned in time to see the door fly shut and crash against the frame. A second later, the empty room was full of bodies. It wasn't like the teleportation spell I'd seen a witch use during the attack at my house. Nope, this was more like they'd all been here behind some shield that made them invisible to the naked eye.

  "Us," a light, far too happy, familiar feminine voice announced.

  One glance was all I needed to recognize the red-headed witch from the attack my brain had just played through. If anyone had the power to hide the two dozen undead in this room from view, it was her. No wonder the stench was strongest in here.

  I didn't even manage a step in my race to Raven's side before the closest undead closed the distance between us and grabbed my sword arm. There wasn't even time for an attack and the sword was stolen from my grip and another undead had a hold of my other arm. Even fighting them off as I'd been taught did little to hinder the two men, or what used to be men. The first to grab me growled in my face, showing off that half of his was missing. It also allowed me to see the conscious thought in his eyes. So, this one had part of his soul back in its body, and if I had to guess, so did the others. There was no way that a young kid necromancer had this much power, which meant whoever had done this was far more powerful and dangerous than we'd suspected. The thought made my legs weak, but I kept myself upright.

  "So, we meet again," the witch sneered, stepping toward me. When she stood within reach of me, she stopped and folded her arms across her chest. Her long red hair hung straight past her shoulders, and the deep red of her button up blouse matched the color of her lipstick. It reminded me of drying blood and I wanted to gag. Even if I liked blood now, the sight of the color on her made me cringe. It was a deadly warning, not a nutritious meal.

  "Where's your friend?" I gasped out past the stench of death filling my nose. My eyes scanned the room for the Chameleon, only to land on the witch again. "Unless, you are the Chameleon."

  She snickered and waved her hand in the air, dismissing the idea. "Sadie's on a different assignment at the moment. No, this time I brought along an even more entertaining friend. I think you'll like her." The witch bit her lip to hide her wide smile as she peered over her shoulder. "Or he'll be the one enjoying her company. Siren has a thing for hot men, and even though he's a blood drinker, he's pretty hot."

  A name like Siren didn't bode well. I jerked against the men's hold and tried to reach for my blades, but they were too strong. For undead, anyway. They must've been former military or wrestlers.

  In the far corner, a woman snickered, and as she moved closer to me, the sound grew louder. She came into view behind the shorter witch and didn't stop until she stood before me, her curvy frame clad in body hugging leather. Even her mid-thigh boots fit her like a latex glove, and the sad part was she made it all look amazing. Every curve was accentuated and perfect, which made me feel ill. No wonder her name was Siren.

  The newcomer tapped a red manicured nail against her lips, lips the same shade as the Witch's lips. What was it with these people and deep red?

  "So, this is the female vamlure. She doesn't look like much of a challenge. Now him," she stared over her shoulder at Raven, who was held by no less than six undead men, "I think I'd like to spend some quality time with that one. Hopefully I won't have to break him too much."

  "Just hurry," the witch warned in a cool voice, showing for the first time a bit of animosity for the older woman, who I couldn't smell over the undead's presence.

  "Tsk, tsk," Siren snickered. "These things can't be rushed. If I speed through his memories, I might miss what the Master has asked me to find. I'd hate to disappoint him like you and Sadie did, Ashtin."

  So, the witch and Chameleon had names. Lovely. If I lived long enough to tell the others, I'd count myself lucky. In my current circumstance, I didn't see it happening. More than anything, I hoped Raven had called in backup.

  It took seconds too long for the rest of Siren's statement to slam into my thoughts so I could dissect them. Memories. Speed through them. Oh, this wasn't good.

  A Mind Reader. With a single touch, they could extricate every memory you had, from birth to the moment they touched you. Nothing was beyond their grasp, including memories their victims had even forgotten with time or age. Those were crystal clear to a Mind Reader. Their attacks could be blocked or fought with practice, but that took time and skill. Siren tapped her lips, her eyes swinging between the two of us.

  “Hmm, she’s probably the easier one to view, but I’m feeling a bit aggressive today.” She closed the distance between herself and Raven, her hips swinging in a large arc to either side for dramatic, seductive affect. If that wasn’t enough, she slid the back of her fingers down the side of Raven’s face, her mouth pouting as he glared at her. “Such a stubborn man. Makes me wonder what you’re hiding behind those gorgeous eyes.”

  Her voice was a silky purr that grated on my ears, and I fought not to wince away at the sound. She stepped closer to Raven so that their bodies were flush. He didn’t move, but kept his hard gaze on her as she brought her other hand up to rest against his temple. Raven visibly tensed, but never blinked. A burning rage rose out of my chest to expand through my body as my teeth elongated and the sour taste of venom filled my mouth. The once dead man standing beside me gripped my shoulders harder as I took a half step toward her.

  “Don’t you dare touch him,” I growled.

  She sneered down her angular nose at me. “Oh, but I already am, child, and he’s going to tell me everything I want to know.”

  For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then Raven’s body grew rigid as he sucked air in through his mouth and bit back a groan. Closing his eyes, he gasped before clenching his jaw so tight I could hear his teeth grind together. His hands closed into tight fists, his fingers digging into his palms as his body shook and he gasped again before whimpering. My Raven was strong. He could get through this, whatever this was. What was she doing to him to cause such pain?

  “Well,” she crooned, opening eyes she’d closed as she attempted to pick his brain. “You are a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?”

  Did that mean she was trying t
o read his mind, his memories, but he was blocking her? It had to be if she’d made that comment. Digging her fingers deeper into his temple, she narrowed her gaze on Raven, and another pained sound escaped his lips as his whole body shook.

  “Stop,” I pleaded, pulling and pushing against the man holding me, but his grip only tightened. “Please, leave him alone.” I should’ve fought, bitten this man and gone after her, but my venom was useless against the undead, even the ones with partial souls.

  "Stop," I cried, making the witch standing within feet of me chuckle with sickening glee.

  "Oh, this is pathetic. Sadie would've loved to see this. Too bad she isn't here."

  Deep rage filled me further and my fangs grew even longer, painfully longer. I was ready to rip this witch's head off, and then that Mind Reader. But first, I'd find out who this Master they served was, or I'd die trying.

  A bellow of agony startled a jump out of me as I turned back on the Mind Reader, whose fingers and nails were dug into Raven's flesh at his temples. Two undead had been forced to hold him up so he wouldn't collapse under the pain of Siren's assault. Her smile was gone, replaced by a snarl as she stared deep into Raven's eyes. Why wasn't he fighting her? Or why hadn't he fought the undead?

  Wait, why wasn't I?

  The pathetic fighting I'd been doing was ridiculous and puny. Memories of the day I'd destroyed an ice block prison flashed in my brain and a growl rose in my chest, rising to my throat. If Raven couldn't fight, then I'd fight for him. If anything, I'd take this witch out, or the undead filling the room. But if I was going to win, I'd have to aim for the witch since I had no idea what she could do to me to stop my assault. Maybe that was why Raven hadn't broken free of the undead and attacked Siren.

  Closing my eyes, I blocked out the sight of Raven's rigid body, but I accepted his hoarse cries as they grew weaker and weaker. If that meant he was losing the fight to block his memories, then I needed to move quick or everything he knew was going to be in the hands of the enemy. The Master was far stronger than we'd suspected, and any advantage he received would only make our fight against him that much harder.

  I gritted my teeth and focused on my body. Power surged through my muscles and every sense I had became more acute. More venom filled my mouth, and though it wasn't useful against the undead, it would kill that witch. Even Raven's warning that a magic user's blood could kill me or make me deathly sick didn't stop me from my plan. I couldn't sit back and watch him take this torture anymore, or allow him to break and have his memories wide open to anyone.

  A deep breath calmed the last of my nerves before I moved. Ripping my arm away from the second undead to grip me, I focused my first attack on the undead who still held me. He never saw me coming. My free arm wrapped around his neck and yanked until his head tore off the rest of his body. He may have been strong, but his flesh and bones were still weak from their undead state.

  The head went flying. By this time, the undead I'd shoved off had recovered, but I'd retrieved my sword from the ground and his head was soaring across the room. He didn't even have a chance to reach for me.

  Two undead were headless before the witch could even turn her head. I leapt at her, but an undead entered my path, anticipating my attack. This one was more difficult to kill, making me lose precious seconds as Ashtin was now well aware of my attack. She scrambled backward, allowing more undead to fill the space she'd occupied. The others closed in behind me.

  "Hold her!" Siren screeched as Raven's cries ended, but he slumped in the hold of the undead still gripping onto him. "Fine, if she wants to play this game, so can I. Ashtin, use your power on her so the creatures can restrain her again. I'll start with her, and then I'll return to him." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the Mind Reader dragging a finger along the side of Raven's face, and her voice changed back to that seductive purr as she bent near his head. "We're having so much fun, aren't we? Don't worry, when I'm done with her, I'll be back for you and we can continue our bonding. I love a man who puts up a fight."

  Magic filled the room, skimming over my skin, and I hissed at Ashtin. It was her magic. The feel of it was too familiar.

  There wasn't time to focus on it any more as the next wave of undead raced at me, attacking at once. I didn't have much room to fight, but I did my best. The sword was yanked from my grip as fists pummeled me, but not before I'd removed three heads.

  "Don't harm her!" Siren barked above the cries of both me and the undead. "I need her conscious and alert. If her brain is sluggish, I won't be able to work with her, and I need information for the Master."

  The hits ceased, but that didn't stop them from attacking. I gripped a knife, but it was of little use once the undead were so close and holding me. In the end, my fighting was of no use, even if I had super strength. Every inch of my body was gripped by undead, and one of them even held my head still for the approaching Mind Reader.

  "No," I whimpered as Siren stepped closer, her eyes locked on my face.

  "Don't worry, girl. It only hurts if you resist. If you give your memories to me freely, it won't hurt a bit." She reached for me, and no matter how far I pushed away from that hand, it wasn't far enough.

  I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew I had to push against any foreign presence. Her fingertip pressed against my temple and a cool, numbing sensation pressed into my mind. I shoved at it, and a streak of pain struck out from where Siren's finger touched me, like a spike being plunged into my brain. The numbness pushed further into me, but I fought back again, gasping past the new strike of pain. Raven had endured this for how long without giving in? He was stronger than me because seconds later of unrelenting pushing and searing pain, I was ready to give in and let the numbness steal all feeling from my throbbing mind.

  Moaning, I fought harder for one last attack to push her away when the door to the room exploded into a million pieces, as did the undead closest to it. Siren's hand flew away from me, her eyes wide. The undead gripping me relaxed their hold, allowing me to pull away and race to Raven as the undead restraining him flew as he roared. One of the creatures tried to escape, but met me. With my skin glowing purple, I plunged my fist into what remained of his face. He dropped, unmoving.

  Strong arms wrapped around my body, and I fought, but I wasn't strong enough to extricate myself.

  "Stop fighting me," Raven growled into my ear, and I stilled as another explosion rocked the room.

  When the dust cleared, Shannon stood in the doorway, her hands glowing and a ticked off scowl covered her normally peaceful face. Coming face to face with this side of her, even I wanted to run. It was like facing a magical Raven, and I was glad he was holding me safely in his arms on the opposite side of the room. Siren and Ashtin weren't quite so lucky.

  Chapter 21

  Two fur covered shifters raced past Shannon as the witch stalked into the room, her hands raised in front of her, still glowing. The canine and feline wasted no time working together to rip into the remaining undead. Luella joined them with an ice sword, the blade clear. I only saw it when the light from the other room caught it just right and glimmered briefly. Together, the three eliminated the undead threat.

  Shannon threw a ball of light at the female magic users, but it smashed into the far wall as Ashtin grabbed Siren's hand and they disappeared, teleporting from the room just like Ashtin had last time I'd seen her. Whoever their Master was, he wasn't going to be happy with another failure. That didn't make me the least bit sad for them. However, it might make the witch more desperate to redeem herself.

  Silence descended over the room, besides the panting and heavy breathing of everyone except Shannon, who glared at the far wall like it had insulted her best friend. Her hands, gripped into fists, weren't glowing anymore, but it would still be a while before I allowed myself to touch them. Her jaw tensed before she stomped her foot.

  "So close, I was so close, but she had to run again. What kind of a witch runs and doesn't fight?" Shannon screamed at the wall.


  "The kind who wants to live," Raven moaned, taking a deep, steadying breath. "It took you long enough to get here."

  His weak voice and trembling body sent a wave of apprehension and fear through me. Turning in Raven's arms, I faced him and ran my fingers along his jaw. Our eyes met and relief swelled in my chest, even though anguish showed in his bright magenta eyes.

  "Are you okay?" I asked him as he placed a kiss to my forehead.

  His lips brushed against my skin. "I'm fine. She didn't break into my mind. Did she manage to see anything of yours?"

  "I don't think so, but I'm not certain. I fought her, but I'm not sure if I succeeded."

  Raven's chest rumbled with a humorless laugh. "If it hurt like your brain was being melted by a hot poker, then you kept her out."

  I shuddered and pulled away, wincing at the remembered pain. "Yeah, that about sums up how it felt when she touched me."

  "I'm so sorry," Raven murmured, rubbing my back. "I tried to keep her attention on me, but you couldn't keep your mouth shut." The last part of his statement ended with a soft, sad chuckle. I glared at him, and he shrugged. "We had to stall long enough, and I knew I could hold out."

  My glare hardened. "Then why didn't you share that message? You went in with a plan, but I had no idea what was happening or that help was even on the way."

  "If I'd told you, they would've heard me. And speaking of them hearing," Raven turned around to face the young necromancer who was cowering in the corner of the room again, tears sliding down his cheeks. "We need to figure out what to do with this one."

  "He's a child," I argued, guessing the boy to be about fourteen at the most, but Raven was shaking his head.