Blood Web_A Blood Curse Novel Read online

  Blood Web

  A Blood Curse Novel

  Tessa Dawn

  Contents

  Credits and Acknowledgments

  The Blood Curse

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Books in the Blood Curse Series

  Also by Tessa Dawn

  Join the author’s mailing list

  A sneak peek from Zanaikeyros

  Purchase Zanaikeyros

  About the Author

  Published by Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC

  Volume X of the Blood Curse Series by Tessa Dawn

  First Edition Trade Paperback Published July 30, 2018 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  First Edition eBook Published July 30, 2018 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Copyright © Tessa Dawn, 2018 All rights reserved

  ISBN-13: Paperback 978-1-937223-28-1

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN-13: eBook 978-1-937223-29-8

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Author may be contacted at: http://www.tessadawn.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC

  Credits and Acknowledgments

  Credits

  Ghost Pines Publishing, LLC, Publishing

  Damonza, Cover Art

  Lidia Bircea, Romanian Translations

  Reba Hilbert, Editing

  Passing Mentions

  The Flintstones – An American animated sitcom, produced by Hanna-Barbera. Original broadcast: September 1960.

  The Clan of the Cave Bear – A novel about prehistoric times by Jean M. Auel (Earth’s Children book series). Original publication: May 1980.

  For Wendy Lovetiggi

  “In Ever-Loving Memory”

  The Blood Curse

  In 800 BC, Prince Jadon and Prince Jaegar Demir were banished from their Romanian homeland after being cursed by a ghostly apparition: the reincarnated Blood of their numerous female victims. The princes belonged to an ancient society that sacrificed its females to the point of extinction, and the punishment was severe.

  They were forced to roam the earth in darkness as creatures of the night. They were condemned to feed on the blood of the innocent and stripped of their ability to produce female offspring. They were damned to father twin sons by human hosts who would die wretchedly upon giving birth; and the firstborn of the first set would forever be required as a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of their forefathers.

  Staggered by the enormity of the Curse, Prince Jadon, whose own hands had never shed blood, begged his accuser for leniency and received four small mercies—four exceptions to the Curse that would apply to his house and his descendants, alone.

  ᴪ Though still creatures of the night, they would be allowed to walk in the sun.

  ᴪ Though still required to live on blood, they would not be forced to take the lives of the innocent.

  ᴪ While still incapable of producing female offspring, they would be given one opportunity and thirty days to obtain a mate—a human destiny chosen by the gods—following a sign that appeared in the heavens.

  ᴪ While they were still required to sacrifice a firstborn son, their twins would be born as one child of darkness and one child of light, allowing them to sacrifice the former while keeping the latter to carry on their race.

  And so…forever banished from their homeland in the Transylvanian mountains of Eastern Europe, the descendants of Jaegar and the descendants of Jadon became the Vampyr of legend: roaming the earth, ruling the elements, living on the blood of others…forever bound by an ancient curse. They were brothers of the same species, separated only by degrees of light and shadow.

  Prologue

  Natalia Giovanni sank deep into the cushions of the ten-thousand-dollar, custom-made sofa in her fit-for-a-palace bedroom, studying the intricate gold-and-red embroidery in the pillows as she powered up her laptop.

  The World Wide Web was the only true escape she ever got from her life in a gilded cage.

  She braided a thick band of her waist-length, dark-brown hair and folded it into a knot, just above her neck, to keep it off her shoulders—the luxurious, loosely waved tresses were compliments of a Tanzanian beauty queen for a mother and an Italian billionaire for a father, the former being gunned down in a business deal gone wrong when Natalia was only ten years old.

  Ah, but then her father’s business was sketchy at best.

  Natalia didn’t know if Luca Giovanni trafficked in illegal arms or drugs, along with the prostitution, but one thing she knew for sure: The women he kept housed in The Fortress, the name his henchman used for the enormous 25,000-square-foot building, surrounded by a ten-foot-high wall on their private 500-acre estate in Morrison, Colorado, were not there of their own free will. The fortress was divided by wings, or quadrants—north, south, east, and west—and from what Natalia had managed to discern over the years, her father kept his high-end call girls in the northern wing, his low-end prostitutes in the east, and the least fortunate of all in the south. Women he sold to be slaughtered.

  She bit down on the rubber tip of a pencil, trying to dispel the thoughts.

  It was inconceivable to Natalia that her once-beloved papa could traffic in a business so abhorrent. Who the hell purchased beautiful, innocent women for the sole purpose of taking their lives—in ways Natalia didn’t dare to even imagine—and what kind of monster would kidnap, raise, or house such victims for years and years, only to sell them for top dollar, knowing their ultimate fate?

  As for who he kept in the west, Natalia didn’t care to speculate. She knew the southern wing brought $150,000 a head in trade, in individual sales. The sex slaves in the west brought $100,000 a head, so they must have been a very rare commodity—special, in their own right. And, ultimately, Natalia could do nothing about it.

  Not any of it!

  Her father had made one thing clear: Somewhere in the world, scattered amongst four separate countries, there were four ruthless mercenaries just
waiting to receive their marching orders—five million dollars each to eliminate every living soul in The Fortress should the Giovanni compound ever be raided. Should Natalia Giovanni ever significantly disobey her father, leave the compound, or try to escape her life.

  Should Natalia ever disappear.

  Yes, Luca Giovanni had placed the lives of hundreds of helpless women squarely on Natalia’s young shoulders. She held all their fates in her slender, elegant hands. She was Luca Giovanni’s only child, and her father would rather see the world burn than live a day without Natalia present. In fact, his diabolical plan had gone further than that: Luca had placed the lethal contracts through his late attorney, Max Brazilian, and Max was the only one who knew the identities of the mercenaries—he was the only one who could call off the contracts.

  And he’d taken that option with him to the grave.

  Natalia sighed, staring at the bright-blue screen of her laptop as her programs came online, wondering for the millionth time if there wasn’t some way around it. At only twenty-five years old, Natalia was a whiz with computers—hell, she was a virtual cyber-pirate—and there wasn’t a website, firewall, or government security system Natalia couldn’t hack. All it would take was a carefully placed email—or an anonymous letter sent to a dozen news organizations—to turn her father in and set the women free. But therein lay the rub: Could the FBI, CIA, or DEA move that quickly or efficiently? Could they get the women out in a matter of a few short hours—could they move them to safety before Max’s mercenaries could strike?

  Five million dollars was a lot of money.

  Still, Natalia might have risked it if it weren’t for the girl with the faery-princess eyes, the beautiful, innocent child with silver-blue irises that sparkled like finely spun glass, the four-year-old girl Natalia had seen on that terrifying, ill-fated night: the night Natalia had hidden in the back of a bodyguard’s jeep in order to slip into The Fortress. The night her father had caught her and whipped her within an inch of her life.

  Luca had never spanked Natalia before…or after.

  And she had never forgotten those eyes: the eyes of a child growing up in captivity, a child only five years younger than Natalia…

  She shook her head briskly to dismiss the thought.

  There was no point to all the morbidity: It didn’t free a single soul, and it didn’t serve Natalia. Like the women in Luca’s “employ,” she was just trying to survive the hand that fate had dealt her.

  Turning her attention to her cyber daydreams—her infinite need to escape—Natalia opened an elite social website and felt her stomach twitter with butterflies.

  Where was he tonight?

  And where had he gone?

  Santos Olaru.

  The dark, handsome stranger with crystal-blue eyes; unusual black-and-blond hair, with an occasional highlight of white; and teeth so perfect, so pearly white, they gleamed like a string of jewels: Natalia’s strikingly handsome, cut-like-a-statue, imaginary cyber-boyfriend.

  She had spied on him, cyberstalked him, and hacked into the places he’d hacked, eventually acquiring his first and last name, while watching the way he worked, just because he’d so impressed—and intrigued—her.

  Hell, the man moved like a ghost in the machine.

  In and out of secured, encrypted systems, without leaving the barest footprint.

  Planting documents, or uploading information, without the host ever knowing he was there.

  He was like a virtual magician, and Natalia had been watching him for years…

  From a distance…

  From the Web.

  But it was only last year, on December 31st, that she’d managed to finally see a picture of the otherwise secretive and elusive hacker: a photo of the tall, stunning Adonis standing next to two other men at a New Year’s Eve party in Dark Moon Vale.

  At the Dark Moon Vale Casino, to be exact.

  He looked like he might have been on security detail, at least from the way he was dressed, and for whatever reasons, perhaps to set the guests at ease, all three men in the photo were wearing nametags: Santos, Saxson, and Ramsey.

  A guest of the casino had snapped the picture and uploaded it onto her social media page. And who could blame her? The men were pure, unadulterated eye-candy! Still, it was the only photo, the only ID of any kind Natalia had ever managed to find of Santos.

  He had removed the photo within one hour, but Natalia already had it.

  She logged into iChat Platinum with her fictitious name, ArabianNight500, and immediately scanned the page for his avatar: Sentinel2000. Clever. He had to be searching for something…or someone… Santos didn’t chat with mere mortals. She chuckled at the silly thought. Of course she pretended he was a god; why not? In Natalia’s eyes, Santos Olaru was far more handsome, brilliant, and slick than any man she’d ever met. And she’d managed to grab his attention, if only for a second, using a clever end-around technique where she’d bypassed his log-in, without knowing his password, and placed a pop-up chat box of her own making directly on his page.

  He had hesitated for the space of two heartbeats before typing: Who are you? How did you get in? And that’s when Natalia had logged off and added five layers of encryption. She didn’t want Santos Olaru tracking her… The trail he would find would go back for years.

  Twirling her pencil through her fingers, she inhaled sharply when she saw his bright-blue icon light up. So, he was there…online. She took a slow, deep breath, trying to muster her courage, and reopened the end-around chat.

  What the hell.

  It was now or never.

  Natalia had just turned twenty-five earlier that month, and her father was determined to see her married before she turned twenty-six. He was planning to give her away to an imposing brute of a man, Oskar Vadovsky, with long, dark hair that seemed naturally black and red, and eyes the color of used charcoals: slate gray and black. Without conscience, clemency, or pity, Luca Giovanni intended to toss Natalia out of the Giovanni compound like so much expendable garbage, for one compelling reason and one reason only: to secure the business relationship between Giovanni, Inc. and its most lucrative, longest-standing client.

  Natalia had pleaded with her father, on more than one occasion, not to do it, not to give her to Oskar. She had even dropped to her knees and begged. But Oskar Vadovsky made Luca Giovanni millions and millions of dollars each year, purchasing the southern-wing women.

  Natalia was not supposed to know this.

  She was not supposed to know that her future husband was a stone-cold killer.

  The marriage was supposed to be a blood-bond contract between the Giovannis and the Vadovskys, a joining of their two powerful houses, and her father swore that Oskar would treat Natalia like a princess and provide her with the life she was accustomed to. After all, the man was supposed to be highly invested in their “ongoing joint ventures”—he wouldn’t dare cross Luca Giovanni.

  No one would.

  Still, Natalia would rather die than marry the dark, tainted brute.

  The man did not possess a soul.

  Unfortunately—and for whatever reason—Oskar really wanted Natalia.

  And that was the beginning, middle, and end of the subject.

  Turning her attention back to her screen—and the fabricated, open iChat box—she stared at her keyboard and vacillated: Natalia would never know love. She would never know what it felt like to want something…or touch someone…from the truest depths of her soul. Reaching out from across the Internet to her imaginary, fantasy lover, Santos, was the closest she might ever come. And time was running out—she may as well do it.

  Are you there? She typed the words in lowercase letters, literally holding her breath.

  No answer.

  She would have to be bolder.

  Santos? Now this should get his attention. His name was supposed to be Sentinel2000.

  I’m here, he shot back. What is your real name?

  Holy cow!

  Natalia slammed th
e laptop shut.

  Santos Olaru had responded to her!

  She jumped up from the couch, paced around the bedroom, and shook out her hands to dispel the nervous energy.

  Holy hell!

  He had spoken to her!

  Squeezing her braid and squealing with delight, she hurried back to the sofa and reopened the screen. ArabianNight500, she typed, biting her lower lip so hard it left an indentation.

  Ah. He typed fast. ArabianNight500…I see. So you aren’t going to tell me?

  I just did, she typed. I’m afraid that has to be good enough.

  She felt her heart sink into her stomach—would he be annoyed? Or worse, disappointed? Would he think she was playing games?

  She wasn’t!

  It was just…

  It was just that she had to be careful.

  Extremely, extremely careful…

  Her father was a dangerous man, and her life was strictly off-limits. Her true identity could never be known. Still, she wanted this connection more than she wanted water, more than she wanted her next breath.

  But what if she had already turned him off?

  The laptop fan began to hum beneath her, even as the soft, pastel glow illuminated the couch. Natalia bit her nails. “C’mon, Santos,” she whispered beneath her breath. “Say something…anything.” When her eyes misted with tears, she knew she was a foolish little girl.