Vampire's Bargain Book One

By Odette C. Bell

“You’d be surprised how fast I can run.”
“You’d be surprised how much faster I can chase.”
Jeanette is the most talented talismans witch in the country. On the run, alone, and seeking vengeance, she’s spent ten years handing it out to unsuspecting vamps. Until he comes along. Handsome, cavalier, and more powerful, Tyler Solomon is the one vamp she can’t outwit, outrun, or fight. So he makes her his familiar.
He takes her to Broadstone, the most prestigious magical academy in the land. And there, she does his dirty work, tracking down vamps like usual but with a leash around her throat.
Jeanette will try anything to escape. But Tyler has other plans. He needs her. And someday soon, she’ll need him too.
....
Vampire’s Bargain follows a revenge-driven witch and the vampire pulling her strings fighting to bring down a corrupt magical council. If you love your urban fantasies with action, heart, and a splash of romance, grab Vampire’s Bargain Book One today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Apr 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005414641

Book preview

Chapter 1

As soon as Jeanette walked into the bar, she saw the vampire she’d fight tonight. There he was, pressed up against the polished wooden bench, leaning forward, leering at the bar mistress. His teeth might be hidden, but she could feel them under the surface of his gums, his greed wrapping around them like chains.

Jeanette wore a black vest, a brown jacket, and tight combat pants. If anyone had bothered to look, they would’ve realized she was trouble. Instead, they kept their eyes on each other.

A little over 75 percent of the patrons in this venue were mundane. The rest were magical. While most just wanted to get by, just needed a drink and a snack before they braved the world out there again, the rest were here for real food.

Jeanette sidled up to the side of the vamp just as he fixed his leering gaze on the bar mistress again. The vamp couldn’t be too old – barely over 18, if Jeanette was any guess.

At least his body was barely over 18. Who knew how old his mind was?

It was a disconcerting experience though, especially for the bar mistress, who had to be well into her thirties.

You going to order a drink or what, love?

Don’t worry, he said, a sick smile sprawling over his lips like a city that didn’t know when to stop. We’ll get to the drinking part later.

He shot her a sanctimonious look. It made Jeanette want to reach over, curl a hand into a fist, then smash it across his jaw. While she was there, why not reach for one of the forbidden weapons in her magic portal, ram it up against his neck, and ask him to repeat that?

Oh yeah, because that would come later.

She kept her back straight, kept her feet firmly planted, and kept her eyes ahead. She didn’t need to lock them on the guy to track his every movement – both physical and magical. She could feel his force rippling out through him, just under the surface of his apparently perfect physique. He was like a deceptively clear pool – one that hid monsters within.

The guy kept leering at the bar mistress, even licked his teeth at one point. His vamp canines weren’t out, but given a thought – and half a drop of blood – they would surge forth from his gums and sink into the closest neck he could find.

Jeanette would ensure it wasn’t that bar mistress’s throat.

It sure as heck wouldn’t be Jeanette’s, either. Not if this vamp had any intention of living through the rest of the night.

She reached forward and drummed her fingers for a few seconds until she got the bar mistress’s attention, then Jeanette ensured she flattened a polite smile over her lips. She even twisted her gaze to the side, indicating the vamp before she rolled her eyes.

The bar mistress flicked Jeanette a knowing smile. What can I get you?

Anything will do.

The bar mistress went to reach for a glass, but then she looked Jeanette up and down. How old are you, sweetie?

Old enough to know better, Jeanette muttered under her breath, but the comment wasn’t about seeking out a much-needed drink at this dingy bar. Once more, she slid her gaze over to the vamp.

Jeanette repeated that statement in her head, and it echoed like a choir matching pace with wild drumbeats.

She was old enough to know better. She’d been doing this, hunting down vamps and other unsuspecting magical creatures, for years.

At some point, it would grow old, right? At some point, she’d trade this dangerous game in for another.

But that point would not come today. Or so Jeanette thought.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her wallet, and threw it to the bar mistress.

The woman caught the wallet easily, fingers sliding around the smooth, old, dappled leather, and quickly assessed Jeanette’s age.

As she handed the wallet back, she gave Jeanette a once-over. You look much younger than you are. What do you use on your skin?

Pure revenge, Jeanette wanted to mutter back. Instead she flipped the wallet closed, slid it into her tight pocket, and shrugged. I find the best way not to show your age is to look busy.

The bar mistress shook her head. Doesn’t work for everyone. Every time I’m rushed off my feet like this, I swear I age another year.

Best to cut that fragile life short, then, and give all that blood up to another, the vamp muttered under his breath. No, it was nowhere near loud enough that the bar mistress with her human level of hearing would be able to pick it up, but Jeanette registered the muttered comments easily.

It made every muscle down her back turn rigid. It would’ve forced her to clutch her hands into fists, too, but instead she kept smiling at the bar mistress as she watched the vamp out of the corner of her eye.

As Jeanette had already said upon walking in here, 25 percent of the clientele were magical. That meant there were plenty of other people who could recognize this guy was a vamp.

But he wasn’t just any vamp. He was an Academy vamp.

She could tell that because the idiot was still wearing his school shirt. Yeah, it was tucked under a jacket, but Jeanette recognized that pristine magical white cotton and always would.

This city had one of the most prestigious magical academies in all of the country. Usually Jeanette couldn’t walk down the street for want of knocking into one of their students.

While their ordinary witch and wizard students were one thing, the vampire elite was another.

They formed the backbone of the school. Other magical races had only been let in 20 years ago. Some queried whether that was only so they could serve their vampire overlords. It wasn’t like vampires ever liked to mingle with those lower than them.

And it sure as heck wasn’t like they ever gave a crap about anyone else. While they sometimes had to tolerate the magical community, all bets were off when it came to humans. Yes, it was frowned upon to go on a killing spree. And you certainly wouldn’t want your antics to wind up in the paper too often, but if you were a powerful enough vamp, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted.

Unless you ran into Jeanette.

She slid her gaze up and down the guy once again, judging not just the glimpse of his school shirt beneath, but how many magical weapons he’d have onboard.

Not all magical races could fight with magical talismans. You had to be seriously powerful to begin with, which pretty much precluded some of the weaker races.

Most talisman fighters were vampires.

Jeanette wasn’t most fighters, and she sure as heck wasn’t a vampire.

Though not a single soul in the whole city would know this, she had some of the most important and rarest magical talismans in the country.

That’s what happened when you lived a life like hers. That’s what happened when you dedicated yourself, day in, day out, to finding every magical creep you could and relieving them of their power before moving onto the next target.

As the bar mistress poured a drink, Jeanette leaned in a little too close and nudged the vamp.

Until now, he’d ignored her, either unmoved by Jeanette’s relatively ordinary looks or incapable of noticing anything other than the bar mistress’s tasty throat. Now he snarled, his dark eyes narrowing.

Who the hell do you think you are? You—

Crap, we’re out of whiskey. Hold on, sugar, the bar mistress said to Jeanette. I’ll just get some from out back. She slid out from behind the bar, and the vamp’s attention scissored off Jeanette and locked onto her quicker than a photon ejected from the sun.

Jeanette could hear his teeth trying to push out from underneath the sheath of his gums. It was a spine-tingling sound. Jeanette would say there was nothing else akin to it in the entire natural world. But there was one sound that was worse. The moment the teeth actually protruded from the skin. You could play it to her a thousand times, and each time, her body would still react with the same stomach-sucking shake.

Better not to let it get to that stage, then.

Now completely ignoring her, the vamp shot one look at the other barman, muttered a quick magical spell under his breath that caused the guy’s mind to shut down momentarily, then jumped over the bar himself.

What a damn amateur, Jeanette thought to herself. As she’d pointed out twice before, 25 percent of the people in this bar were magical. And his quick spell hadn’t worked on a single one of them. They all saw as he shot over the bar, bloodlust widening his eyes.

But none of them saw the second Jeanette followed.

She had no intention of letting this guy do whatever he pleased.

When she was done with him….

Jeanette just smiled at that thought.

Rather than obviously jump over the bar, she twisted around, moved quickly through the room, and reached the front door. She slipped out of it, hit the street, half closed her eyes, and focused on the bar mistress. It wasn’t hard – all Jeanette had needed was to have one conversation with her, and now Jeanette’s magical senses had locked onto her like a military targeting radar.

She was in one of the storerooms at the back of the pub.

As for the vampire, he was currently prowling down the corridor to get to her.

When Jeanette reached the side of the building, she pushed into a run, every movement controlled, her muscles snapping and pumping like they belonged to some well-oiled machine.

And if there was one way you could describe Jeanette, it was just like that. Her body always knew what it had to do, so too did her mind, and importantly, so too did her magic.

As she ran around the back of the building, old shoes scrunching against the uneven cobbles, she reached into her magical pocket.

Not every practitioner could create one. She had to go back to the bit about races who could practice with talismans. A requirement to wield them was being able to hide them. You had to store them somewhere, and if you were dumb enough to keep them on your real physical body, some opportune magical fiend would just reach in and steal them. Better to place them in a pocket only you could ever access.

As Jeanette reached into hers, fingers easily parting through the air and accessing the pocket like someone opening a drawer in a kitchen, she concentrated until a dagger fell into her grip. Shiny, it looked like the moon condensed down into pure metal. It was so smooth to touch, Jeanette’s fingers could’ve slipped off. But she’d never once lost hold of a weapon, and she had never once lost a fight.

She reached the back of the bar. A small alleyway led to an overflowing dumpster, old bottles stacked up beside it for recycling. Some hadn’t been empty, and they leaked a pile of sticky, colored alcohol over the cracked asphalt.

The bricks beside it had either been splattered by one too many drunken spews, or this area never got any rain, because they practically bled mold. It marched up in these great horrifying patches that made Jeanette question whether she needed to get in a zoological expert here.

No time for that. Reaching the back door, she kicked it open, though she used a charge of magic to ensure that she didn’t break the handle or the lock.

When she was done here, she would slip into the shadows, and no one – including the vamp – would ever know what she’d done.

As she reached the corridor, it was to the sound of the vamp pushing into the storeroom.

Then there was that familiar surprised yelp. A very specific one. The one you always got when someone realized they were in trouble.

Maybe you could accuse Jeanette of making that up. No two people screamed the same. And no two dangerous situations were the same. Each would call for a different reaction from every person.

But there’s always this little moment when the brain catches up, when it forces the lungs to suck in a sudden, forceful breath. A moment when it realizes danger has just knocked on its door.

But Jeanette wouldn’t let this danger knock for long.

The bar mistress took another similar breath, then even from here, Jeanette could tell that she grabbed hold of her nerves. … What the hell are you doing around here? This is only for—

Couldn’t resist. Sorry, the vamp actually laughed. He would’ve sounded like a child, but one that came along with the sharp edge of the damned.

What—

There was a whoosh, then the sound of the vampire pinning the bar mistress up against some wall.

Jeanette reached the closed door and kicked it open.

It didn’t explode. Well, not technically. That was to say when Jeanette was done with it, it wouldn’t hold on to its damage. But for now, it ruptured out in a blast of sparks and shards of wood.

Several of them dashed against the vampire as he twisted to stare at her, eyes wide, teeth finally protruding from his gums.

Fortunately the sound of the door exploding meant Jeanette didn’t have to put up with the god-awful noise of his teeth growing.

It was quickly followed up with a snarl then one single muttered word.

The vamp clicked his fingers, and a fireball appeared just over his short nails.

He was still pinning the bar mistress up against the chipped white painted wall, one clawed hand holding onto her blouse and throat.

At the sight of his fingers exploding into fire, she screamed once, but the sound could go nowhere.

Not only did the guy wrench his hand up and lock it over her mouth, but he cast a silence spell at the same time.

He also let his fireball out.

It shot towards Jeanette.

And Jeanette…?

Jeanette stood there. She didn’t bring up an arm to defend herself. She just watched as if this was nothing more than a quaint documentary you might get on birds and flowers. In other words, utterly innocent and harmless.

The fireball reached her. It smashed into her chest. It was immediately dispersed by her greater magical system.

Magic brings order to the chaos of nature. And the more ordered your mind and power, the easier it is for you to overcome someone else’s attack with little effort whatsoever.

The vamp’s eyes shot wide. Then they narrowed in a twitch. You’re a witch, then? he snarled, not nearly as terrified as he should be.

Jeanette had just obliterated his attack with no effort whatsoever. And yet he still tilted his head back, his eyes twitching regally as if he had the upper hand. That was because, to a vampire, they always had the upper hand. To them, evolution had handed them the winning ticket the second they’d been born.

So it was time for Jeanette to show him how wrong that was.

She still held the dagger in her hand. She kept it behind her back, but now she brought it around, threw