Vampire's Bargain: The Complete Series

By Odette C. Bell

The complete Vampire’s Bargain series. Follow Jeanette and Tyler on their witty, action-packed battle for justice in this four-book boxset.
“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: The Complete Series today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005773991

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 it up, then caught it by the hilt. She twisted it around in an arc, and magic spewed out, following the move, crackling over her wrist, then reaching up over her shoulder. By the time it made it to her eyes, it had framed them with pure anger.

At least the vamp twitched back now.

Her display would prove she wasn’t just a witch.

She was a pissed-off witch brimming with power.

Yet still this guy didn’t know what was good for him.

Teeth glinting under the powerful downlights, he shot forward, and he clicked his fingers again.

The idiot insisted on using another fireball, even though it was by now perfectly apparent that would not work on Jeanette. A fact she proved as, sure enough, it smashed into her chest once more, and without having to break a sweat or even lift a hand, her body automatically discharged it.

At least this time the guy noticed what he was dealing with and paused long enough to lurch backward.

He finally pulled his hand from around the bar mistress’s throat, and she fell down to her knees, a shaking mess.

Though Jeanette could’ve let her go, she’d seen too much.

Long before the vamp could get to her again, Jeanette twisted, flipped right over the guy’s head as if she possessed all the agility of a combined gymnastics team, and reached the woman.

Her eyes widened, but not with fear.

I’ll be sure to seek your revenge for you, Jeanette muttered before she clicked her fingers in front of the woman’s nose once. Sleep-inducing magic shot out from Jeanette’s hand, spiraled around the woman’s nostrils, then plunged in. Her head jolted back, then she fell forward.

Jeanette smoothly grabbed her by the middle, twisted her around, and placed her down just as the vampire reached her again.

Once more the idiot tried another fire spell, but this time at least his eyes widened with fear as it struck her.

And yeah, once more, Jeanette just dealt with it.

She turned.

She smiled at the guy. Then she leaned back, leather jacket scrunching as she twisted and angled against a metal shelf. "Is that all you’ve got, vampire boy? I thought all you kids at the Academy learned to fight to the death? Or at least you vampire overlords? What are you gonna do when you wind up unconscious behind this joint, every single one of your talismans gone, and the word loser tattooed over your head in permanent magical ink?

The guy roared. This twitching fear rocketed up and reached his eyeballs. But the idiot still didn’t call on one of his talismans.

You called on talismans for heavy fights. You didn’t bother for most other encounters.

Why reach for an important weapon when a single kick or punch would do?

This guy tried both of those – but they were about as effective as attempting to stop the Pacific Ocean from, you know, being an ocean. When his second punch tried to strike her face, she sliced around with the dagger. No more playing around. It slashed over his knuckles, and they bled.

The vamp crumpled down to his knees, real shock plastering over his face now.

She got where it came from. Vampires were at the top of the food chain. No other magical race ever dared get in their way, let alone challenge them. And to this guy, a clear card-carrying member of the Academy, while he’d be forced to interact with other magical practitioners most days, they’d all defer to him. In other words, every other interaction he’d ever had with someone like her would have affirmed that he was on top. Time to be kicked right down to the bottom of the pile, then.

Jeanette took a sauntering step forward, never slipping, even though the floor was now covered in sticky, burning alcohol.

If the guy kept going like this, willy-nilly casting fireballs in every direction, the storeroom could explode.

Jeanette was relatively certain that even if it did, she had more than enough magic to fight anyway.

The guy jerked back. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I’m—

Another vampire from the Academy, right? Because every single vamp in this old town has something to do with the Academy. If you don’t go there or don’t teach there, you send your kids there. And every damn vamp that goes there learns the same thing. You’re on top. I’m here to tell you that is not a fact. It’s an assumption. And assumptions are pretty damn dangerous. On the word dangerous, she slashed out again, re-gripping the dagger, twisting it high, and letting real magic spark across the tip. This idiot might think he practiced real magic, but it was time to give him a crash course in true force.

Sure enough, he couldn’t jolt back fast enough, and the tip slashed him across his jacket. It burnt through the fabric in a few sparking hisses, revealing his perfect, pristine white shirt.

A fun fact about Broadside Academy was that the vampires had designed the shirts. For one purpose. You could drink your way through the town, but your clothes would never splatter with blood once. You could roll in the mud, but they’d always come up clean. In other words, they were the perfect cloak to hide your darkness.

Not today.

The guy got back up again, gaze even wilder, wide eyes searching for some form of escape.

But then Jeanette grunted, she twisted the knife, and she slashed it in the other direction. His shirt should have been able to take the blow, in theory. In practice, she slashed right through the enchantments protecting it, and there was a sound like bones snapping.

He jerked, slipped in the burning alcohol, and fell flat on his ass. His wide, searching eyes stared into hers, real fear finally slackening his jaw as his small brain caught up to the situation.

Jeanette threw the knife up, twisted it around, caught it one last time, then scratched the back of her head with it. Like I said, I will take every single one of your talismans—

You might be a small talismans witch, but you’ve got no idea what you’re dealing with. I’m one of the best-rated players at the Academy. It’s time for you to meet real pain, witch, he snarled.

She didn’t bother to waste the breath to tell him that witch wasn’t an insult in her books. Psychotic privileged monster was.

She could tell him later, whispering it in his ear as she stole everything that was important to him.

The guy reached behind him, and in a cloud of utter power, activated his talisman pocket.

She glimpsed within.

Maybe he wasn’t lying. There were at least 30 talismans in there. Most of them were low-powered, but one or two were decent.

Proving how terrified this guy was, despite his brave words, he reached for his number one talisman. As it fell into his hand, clunking as if it weighed a thousand tons, she saw the force charging up and around it. It cascaded as if it was the very heart of creation come to burn her.

But if the heart of creation had come, it sure as heck wouldn’t be on this guy’s side.

Without waiting around, he slashed at her face. It was a blow designed to rend flesh from bones, designed to split her head in half and see her brains splatter over the magic shelves behind.

Once again, theory didn’t match practice.

Jeanette at least had to dodge this time. She did so easily without breaking a sweat, without even struggling for breath.

The guy jerked in surprise and tried to slash again, but it didn’t matter – Jeanette had already put sufficient distance between them.

Now it was her turn. Technically, on paper at least, her little dagger was much less powerful than his incredible talisman. But it was all in how you used magic, how you concentrated and purified it like you had a refinery crammed in your chest.

Quietly now, as if she was the equivalent of a vocal shadow, she pressed in from the side, slashed across his shoulder, rolled to the other side, and slashed him from that side too.

He shouted, crippling fear getting the better of him.

He staggered down to his knees as he clutched his arms, but that meant he dropped his talisman.

It was an odd shape. Not every talisman resembled an ordinary weapon. For every sword or dagger you got, you might find a truncated staff, an orb, or something that resembled a small tag. His was like a tiny wand. It had a rotating crystal at the top, one that spewed out light. It presumably helped him magnify his magic, but you can’t magnify what isn’t really there.

He tried to headbutt her, but Jeanette slipped in close, wrapped an arm around his throat, twisted, then pinned him against the floor. The alcohol covering it was still alight. Jeanette didn’t want to let it go near the prone bar mistress. Her locks had tumbled out from behind her, and they formed a thankfully soft cushion for her still face. The fire could reach her shirt and black skirt, but it wouldn’t dare burn her while Jeanette was around.

Jeanette had a policy. Nobody got hurt on her watch. Apart from the people who deserved it. And this man? Oh, he deserved it.

He tried to headbutt her again. Just for laughs, Jeanette let it connect. There was the crunch as his skull rammed into hers, but then nothing.

It didn’t knock her back, and it sure as heck couldn’t rob her of her momentum. She pulsed all of that into her fist as she smashed it against his face. Blood splattered out, some of it splashing down onto his once-pristine shirt, and the rest being eaten up by the charging alcohol fire.

What the hell? You’re not a standard witch. You’re—

A pissed-off witch, she stated as if that was the most important category of tactician out there.

Heck, maybe it was. It was time the vampires of this twisted little old town realized that.

Horton Vale was a tiny, almost insignificant historic town – according to the local council, at least. It had an old museum, numerous little trinket shops, and these cobbled laneways that led to picturesque courtyards and old gnarled trees. It was also the most magical town in all of the country, and up behind the winding forest that protected most of the left flank of the city sat Broadside Academy. You couldn’t see it – unless you could see with magical eyes. If you could, it was this sprawling 20-building complex that looked as if it had been taken out of a Bavarian puzzle, combined with brutalist steel and concrete, then sprinkled with magic.

Even now as Jeanette twisted around, grabbed the vamp by the throat, and smashed him down against one of the metal shelves, she saw it out of the corner of her eye. There was a high window to her left. It seemed to offer the perfect view up past the forest to Broadside.

Rather than face the vamp, she faced it, and she imagined smashing its face into the ground just as she locked him there with her foot. You technically couldn’t grapple with an entire school and break its nose, but there was little Jeanette wouldn’t imagine – as long as it was violent and involved getting retribution on the vamps in some way.

The guy clutched something in his pocket, no doubt in a last-ditch attempt to stop Jeanette. Good luck with that. He drew it out. It looked, curiously, like a little stamp. Something you might use on an old letter. What did you call it again? Oh yeah, a seal.

Owing to Jeanette’s specific life, she sure as heck hadn’t seen anything like that in a long time.

So she didn’t react fast enough.

The guy slammed the seal down onto the only patch of concrete around him that wasn’t covered in his own blood and chaotically discharging magic.

Something shot out of the tip.

Or at least it tried.

Jeanette acted. For the first time since the fight had begun, real adrenaline pulsed through her stomach, shook up into her heart, and rattled through her rib cage.

She kicked the seal out of his hands then stamped on it.

His eyes widened to the point of cracking. What the hell?

Jeanette had to stamp on it twice, and the second time, she drew her magic into her center, clutched it with the equivalent of her mental hands, and focused it down. It pretty much turned her foot into a hammer – the kind you might use on a mountain, not a mere nail.

There was a satisfying crack, and whatever magic protected that thing finally broke.

The magic that discharged was strange – these little red-black crackling hisses that twisted over the floor, bounced along for a few centimeters, then disappeared into unseen cracks in the concrete.

While she couldn’t see any obvious fissures in the floor, they sure as heck cracked over the vamp’s face. True fear the likes of which she thought a monster like him would never show wore him like a mask, not the other way around. How the hell do you have the power to break through a seal?

Jeanette shrugged, locked her arms around her middle, and tilted her head to the side. Because I have the power to do a heck of a lot more. Now, time to go through with the bargain from before. Time, she reached toward him, though technically her fingers angled toward the entrance to his subspace magical pocket and all of his talismans within, to alleviate you of your bounty, knock you out, wipe your memory, and write loser across your head.

The guy twitched. But then Jeanette grabbed him, and it was lights out.

Chapter 2

Jeanette walked away from the bar, her smile pronounced as she tilted her head back and stared at the silvery moonlight above. It played over the old slate roofs around her.

She reached one of the cramped cobblestone laneways that crisscrossed through the heart of the town. Why they were still made from cobblestones, Jeanette didn’t know. Rip it all up. Put asphalt down instead. It would be easier for the cars, and God knows it would be easier for her heels to run across.

But she got the point. Horton Vale was a historic township. The cobbles brought character, right? Yeah, but many a broken nose and cracked tooth, too.

Speaking of which, as she shoved a hand further into her pocket, she tilted her head around, and she stared back one last time at the bar. By now, that woman would be back serving customers, albeit while slightly confused. The vamp? He’d show up nearby in the morning sometime, loser painted over his head, his talismans gone, and a giant hole in his memory. Even if you put him under proper magical interrogation, he wouldn’t remember a thing. That was thanks to a talisman Jeanette had picked up what… five years ago?

She could barely count time anymore and didn’t bother. Calendars were for people who had things to look forward to. Every night for Jeanette was the same. Go out, get revenge, and steal talismans.

She couldn’t see that ever changing.

But sometimes we can’t see what’s right in front of us.

Jeanette made the mistake of walking out of the laneway and down a wide street. You’d hardly call it a main road. You might be able to fit a lorry down here – if you were terribly ambitious and didn’t mind if said truck smashed up against fence posts, letterboxes, hundred-year-old oak trees, and little old ladies walking their dogs at night.

Whatever. The point was, this wasn’t one of the more protected streets in town, and that was proven as a group of attractive men and women spilled out of an upper-class bar – probably 10 to 20 times better than the one she’d just been in.

Sorry, upper-class was a misnomer. Just call it expensive. When you pay more money for something, it doesn’t mean you’re better than everyone else. It usually just means you’re an idiot.

Jeanette intended to keep her hands shoved into her pockets as she navigated around the crowd, but with another step forward, she realized they were no ordinary group.

Vamps.

She could smell them from here. You could cork her nose – heck, you could cut it off. She’d still be able to pick up the heady scent of vampires. Especially those that had just fed.

Jeanette didn’t grind to a halt – would never be that obvious – but she stepped slower now, every move laborious, her heart pounding hard. You know that hammer she’d mentioned before? She wanted to go back to it. She needed to wield it and smash right through this group.

If the fact she could smell blood wasn’t bad enough, a second later, she saw it. One of the elegant tall women with tapering blonde hair that reached her coccyx lifted the cuff of her silk blouse. And right there, just under the thumb, was a single droplet of blood.

You can’t clean blood out of silk – not unless you have a seriously motivated dry cleaner and a lot of luck. Unless you’re a vampire, that is. The woman licked the cuff of her shirt, tongue slipping out with the sound of metal on leather. With a little charge of magic, the blood was gone.

The smell lingered.

There were five vamps. All of them were powerful. And all of them would go to that damn Academy. They’d be taught proper combat. And unlike the fool she’d just fought, one or two of them looked like they really knew how to use talismans. Did that stop Jeanette? Hell no. She slipped in behind them properly now. Her intentions were clear – at least to her with her furrowed brow and taut, clenched fists.

Though Jeanette had only intended to hit one vampire tonight, why not hit a group of five all at once?

This tiny, almost insignificant warning bell went off in Jeanette’s skull. It had sounded out more frequently of late, especially now. This was risky. Yeah, she was unmatched. Yeah, she had some rare talismans that would make the entire town gag, but if she gave a hoot about her future, she should stop and draw back.

All Jeanette cared about was revenge. Every vamp left on the streets was another predator who could attack some poor sap tomorrow night.

With that thought to harden her resolve, Jeanette pulled her hand around. If any one of the vampires had turned, they would’ve seen how white her knuckles were. But they were far too interested in themselves.

He didn’t even resist. Poor boy. I guess I’ll see him in class on Monday. Then again, he might be too ashamed to ever show his face again. The woman who’d licked the blood off her cuff chuckled.

You rarely heard laughs like that. For one, ordinary folk aren’t that cold. Even an actor couldn’t grasp the true disgust needed to pull off a sneer like that.

But vamps could. Especially this one.

One of the three male vamps laughed. No one would dare get in your way, Helena.

Helena tilted her long neck to the side and laughed. Not if they know what’s good for them.

The only thing this conversation did was solidify Jeanette’s will further.

The vamps took a turn down the laneway, and there was an expensive low-slung car. Jeanette lacked vehicular vocabulary – didn’t need it. The trappings of the rich and famous were irrelevant. Actually trapping them, on the other hand – that was all she ever devoted her life to.

She waited until all of the vamps got in the car. It wasn’t because she fancied having a race with them. Though, with a few well-placed spells, maybe she could take them on even while they were speeding down the street.

Nope. Jeanette paused because she thought she heard something behind her.

She’d heard someone slip out of the restaurant just after this group, right?

No. It was just her mind playing tricks on her.

Jeanette went to dismiss the thought, and it was criminally easy.

No one could challenge her in this town. She’d never found a single practitioner of talismans who’d ever come close to her. Not in 10 years.

Jeanette knew that arrogance was dangerous. But it isn’t arrogant when you are right, is it?

Wrong.

Jeanette went to reach out toward the car, but that would be when something snagged hold of her shoulder. Quick, hard, it had the kind of grip that would never falter, even if you shoved a crowbar into it and pulled with all your might.

The vamps in the car drove away.

They never looked back to see Jeanette being dragged into a laneway just behind her. The mouth was small. No, the mouth of the laneway was insignificant, because the laneway itself was created by the magician behind her. The guy muttered one word. It was just under his breath, but it pushed out with a punctuating rumble.

As he yanked Jeanette around, she charged with magic.

She twisted down, fell onto her knees, then lanced out with a punch, but the guy had already flipped. Somehow, in the blink of her damn eyes, he put several meters between them.

No one could move like that.

No one who was technically alive.

Jeanette squinted through the sudden darkness to see a student from Broadside Academy. Worse, the guy was a vamp.

Darkness seemed to gather over his face, but a few rays of light made it in from the silvery moon above, and they illuminated his blazer. There was the Broadside emblem, and there, underneath, was that damn pristine white shirt. But something else glinted in the moonlight, too. He opened his mouth, and there was a set of powerful white vampire teeth.

At the sight of them, rather than recoiling in despair, she laughed, all hearty and throat-punching. Oh, you’ve got no idea what you’re messing with, boy, she snarled.

I’m afraid I do.

Jeanette’s stomach pitched. Slightly. It was the tiniest of movements.

It was the only warning she’d get.

Ignoring it, she sliced toward him.

She went to punch him across the jaw, and she almost got there, but at the last moment, he moved. Somehow.

What, did this guy possess a wind spell shoved up his jumper or something? He twisted, footwork light, hands continually shoved into his pockets. From his even, almost bland expression, it looked like he was doing nothing more than having a fight with a teddy bear.

Jeanette’s heart hadn’t beaten properly during a battle in a long time, but now it kicked up a gear.

Thumbing her nose, she ensured her own footwork was light. She twisted and went to ram him from the side, but once more, without any effort whatsoever, he put several meters between them as if he owned space and could warp it at will.

What the—

I didn’t come here today, Jeanette, to dance with you, he muttered.

Jeanette heard one word. One word that could stop her world. One word that could send a train ramming into her heart, that could pull out every single one of her organs and lay them at her feet and crush them, one by one.

Jeanette.

She must’ve paled three shades. Hell, her blood must’ve diverted and emptied out of her feet. No one in this town knew her name. Heck, no one in the country knew her name. When she’d escaped the magical community, she’d slipped into the darkness, exactly where she intended to stay.

The vamp smiled slightly. She still couldn’t see his entire face, though from the lower half of his jaw, he looked handsome.

Handsome for a vamp. They had the money, the access to magical surgery, and the need to look perfect. Heck, it was practically an evolutionary drive to have a killer smile and to back it up with even more murderous teeth.

Jeanette was getting distracted here.

She jolted back again, putting more distance between them, even though this guy hadn’t done anything yet. She narrowed her eyes and finally appreciated the darkness preventing her from seeing his face came from the spell he was cleverly casting.

Who the hell are you? How did you—

I’ve had my eye on you for a while. Prolific, aren’t you? Tell me, was the plan to churn through Horton Vale and make every vampire here pay?

Fear rocketed up from her heart and pounded into her jaw. It didn’t make her open her mouth, and she sure as heck didn’t scream. She just clenched her teeth harder. I can promise you one thing. You won’t remember my name once I’m done with you.

I can promise you something else, Jeanette. I’ll never forget your name, no matter what happens. With that dire warning, he finally pushed forward.

Jeanette reacted. She shunted in quickly, magic bursting over her fists. She’d knock this guy out with two punches and end this mess before it got started.

But this guy had other ideas.

His footwork was still faster, still made him look as if he was the wind come to life. He moved in beside her, and the next thing she knew, he locked a hand on her hip. He twisted with her as if they were actually dancing. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, and her leather jacket brushed up against his blazer.

For the first time, she looked into his eyes, and what eyes they were. Yeah, sure, every feature was probably manufactured. His dear rich mom had probably looked in a magazine of models and pointed to the best one and told the surgeon to make him look like that. But actually being pressed up against his face this close meant that Jeanette couldn’t look away.

He had an angled jaw, an aquiline nose, and short-cropped, curly black hair. It made him look like a Greek god come to life.

Then there were the eyes. The very clearly vampire eyes. The same eyes that were now crackling with power, all of it directed at her.

As his firm grip slipped further over her hip, his thumb rumpling her jacket, for a second, she forgot why she was here. She was reminded as he finally attacked. He didn’t do anything so crass as to punch her across the jaw, even though she was fully open for such an attack. Instead, he slipped his hand further up her back. It took several seconds until Jeanette realized what he was doing. By that stage, it was far too late.

She let out a hiss of a breath as he practiced a neural blocking enchantment on her.

Jeanette crumpled down to one knee. That neural blocking enchantment would have frozen anyone else. They would’ve practically become quadriplegics on the spot. Not Jeanette. While one of her knees twitched and her face fell down between her shoulders, her hair slicing over her eyes, the rest of her worked fine. A point she proved as she cupped her left hand into a fist. No more wasting magic. She had to figure out how this guy moved. Back in the early days, Jeanette had faced challenges. To be fair, because she’d been a wee teenager. She’d gone after vamps and warlocks triple her age.

Back then, however, she’d taught herself how to fight hard targets. She knew when to hold back; she knew when to gather information, and she knew when to take a breather before the final act. Right now she tilted her head up slightly, sticky fringe slicing over her eyes. She was fully aware of the fact that the moonlight illuminated her, just not him. Apart from that slice of his Greek god face she’d seen, he’d moved back into the darkness wholeheartedly, and now only his blazer was lit up.

Was this where he’d chuckle? Was this where he’d say he had her exactly where he wanted her? Hell no. This was where he just stared.

Jeanette sneered. I don’t know who you think you are, but—

You’re about to give me a dose of my own medicine? We’ll see. Time for you to pull out your best-rated talisman, Jeanette, he said. And damn him for the way he said her name. It slipped off his tongue like whiskey on the rocks.

Hell, that was a tame image. His words were like a hand down the most expensive silk.

Nothing would dare get in their way.

And Jeanette’s heart sure as hell couldn’t.

It trembled once as she reached behind her.

He was right. The only way out of this was to call on a talisman. Because even if she didn’t, if he defeated her, he’d be able to force her to call on one anyway.

And yeah, Jeanette had just thought that word. Defeated. It was a verb she hadn’t thought about in a long damn time unless it was to explain the defeat of one of her enemies.

Now another charge of fear leaped through her heart, though her arrogant mind tried to pretend it was something else.

Just justifiable concern, right?

Wrong.

From the look in this guy’s eyes, he had Jeanette exactly where he wanted her.

That was until Jeanette jerked all the way through his neural blocking enchantment, snapping it like you would a straw.

She reached for one of her highest-rated weapons, but she chickened out in the end. She pulled out a mid-range dagger, the movement slow, giving the impression she was in complete control.

But he still tilted his head to the side.

He stared at the dagger, gaze direct and judging, then slid his eyes over to her. This isn’t the best you have, Jeanette. I happen to know you have one of the only two drunken daggers in the world. I’m disappointed that you didn’t think I’m threatening enough to deserve it.

So much happened in several seconds, Jeanette was like a cat staring at a thousand pieces of string shoved at its face all at once.

He knew she had a drunken dagger. How…?

Drunken daggers might not sound like much, but they were two of the rarest and most powerful talismans in all the world.

Why were they called drunken daggers? Because they could change direction at will. It might look like the dagger itself was drunk to the untrained eye, but anyone who was practiced in seeing and understanding magic would realize that the dagger could flow through your environment, cutting through the roots of your opponent’s spells, sometimes before they’d even finished casting them.

Jeanette clutched the dagger she’d already pulled out, fingers trembling now.

Slowly but surely, something started to dawn on her.

Whoever the hell this guy was, he wasn’t a pushover.

And Jeanette wouldn’t get to defeat two enemies in one night. Jeanette might not even make it through the night.

She glared over at his vampire teeth again.

Most vamps didn’t walk around with their teeth open and out for everyone to see.

They pulled them out solely when they were feeding. Otherwise, they tried to slip into the background and pretend they were just like everyone else. Not this guy, apparently. He opened his mouth wider, and the darkness spell that hid most of his features retracted around his mouth completely. It showed off that tapering angle to his strong jaw, and that just accentuated his sharp teeth even further.

Jeanette clutched the dagger harder. She drew it in front of herself in a defensive position. Just who the hell do you think you are?

I assure you, I don’t think I know who I am. My identity is an unassailable fact.

Then put me out of my misery. Her fingers slid further down the hilt. She now clutched it so tightly, if it weren’t a magical talisman, she would crush it to dust.

That would be the least of her troubles, frankly.

The guy took another step toward her, head angled her way. His gaze darted down her body, and maybe for a second or two, lingered on where he’d grabbed her hip.

This wasn’t lasciviousness. This was the look of a vampire carving you up to judge how much blood your poor little veins carried from your poor little heart.

Jeanette had seen that look all too many times. There was a reason she’d become the woman she was today. The reason bled in her heart and shadowed her every move. And it was the same reason that forced her forward long before he could attack.

She twisted to the side, reared up from the left, then rolled. She moved fast. Yeah, this guy might be like the wind, but Jeanette could put on a burst of speed or two if she needed it.

She proved that now as, finally twisting in from the right, she went to slash the guy across the chest.

Went to, at least. Just before the knife could slice over his skin, injuring but not killing him, he grabbed her wrist. Just like that.

And worse, he had the power to hold her in place.

Jeanette’s eyes exploded. Honestly, they must have. She could still see, but that wasn’t the point. So much adrenaline-fueled horror ricocheted through her, she should’ve popped.

The guy had a tender but firm grip. Sorry, wrong way to explain it. The guy’s grip was complete. He could hold her still with little effort, which meant that he didn’t have to tighten his knuckles much. It also meant that he had all of the energy and attention left over to just stare at her, his nonplussed expression making it seem as if Jeanette was a curious bug that had wandered in front of his power.

Either he retracted his darkness spell for a few seconds, or this close, it wouldn’t work on Jeanette. She got a full glimpse of his face again.

She wanted to change her statement from earlier. He wasn’t like a Greek god. Even Greek gods didn’t look like that.

He had this sense of superiority, but somehow it didn’t come with arrogance. He just looked like he deserved it. This guy was at the tippy top.

And Jeanette—

Jeanette put her shoulder into it. She grunted. Hardly a ladylike move, but she didn’t care. She threw her arm into the move as much as she could until the joint protested. Then she growled.

Finally she felt his wrist budging, and just as it did, his eyes opened wide, even flashed with something that looked slightly like pride. Hell, his lips curled, too, like he was enjoying this.

He really wouldn’t enjoy it when she slashed the drunken dagger across his chest.

Just what I need, he muttered.

Again Jeanette’s treacherous heart fluttered, but she twisted, pivoted, and pulled her drunken dagger from her talisman pocket, throwing the other inside with a pop. Then she went to slash him across the chest again. Either she broke out of his grip, or he let her go. It happened too quickly to judge.

No. It didn’t. Some part of Jeanette recognized that she hadn’t wrenched free from his firm grasp. He’d just retracted his fingers.

And that same part that recognized that screamed at Jeanette to turn and run. She didn’t have a chance. Losing was an inevitability.

The rest of Jeanette couldn’t give up. She never backed down from a fight.

She twisted to the side and went to slash him across the shoulder, but he moved with her. He pushed his body to her left until he came up around her as he chuckled. Then once more, he danced with Jeanette, one of the most violent, grunting waltzes she’d ever heard, and to be fair, she brought all the grunting while he kept laughing lightly.

She didn’t think she’d ever been this up close and personal with someone while they were laughing. It was different from hearing it. Feeling it meant she couldn’t get away from it, couldn’t get away from his deep, throaty, rumbling voice, nor the way it made her tremble.

And critically, she couldn’t get away as he finally turned. Maybe he was done playing now.

He reached a hand over his shoulder. He activated his own pocket.

The old Jeanette could not be kept down. Despite the fact she was very much not winning, her heart still opened to the possibility she could get access to his pocket—

Something sliced out of the subspace rip. It twisted around, moving on its own, without even a little assistance from the vamp. And that something was the drunken dagger. The only other drunken dagger in all of existence. Jeanette… she didn’t even have time to recognize what it meant. The dagger moved too quickly. It twisted around several meters away, then it shot in close. Jeanette couldn’t buck back. It was going to slice through her throat.

She would die.

She jolted at least. But that would be when the vamp grabbed her, one hand on her shoulder, one hand spread forward.

He didn’t catch the drunken dagger, but he forced it to pause. It maneuvered between his fingers, not cutting his webbing or injuring him once. The blade stopped right against her throat.

Jeanette was forced to shove hard into him with all her strength. It meant her body got an up-close-and-personal tour of his muscles. They weren’t even the main event – that was the throbbing core of his magic growing like a storm. How does it feel to lose, Jeanette? he asked. She expected him to sneer his words, to enjoy every single last one of them. If the vamp at the bar had done this, he would’ve taken so much damn pleasure in the moment, he probably would’ve passed out like a junkie. But this guy was in complete control. He still had a hold of her shoulder. His solid, broad hand felt like it could grasp up all of her at once.

An inappropriate, irrelevant image considering the fact that the drunken dagger remained paused there, just by her throat.

Who… who are you? For the very first time, actual fear shook through Jeanette’s voice. It was now or never, right?

Jeanette had some of the rarest talismans in the world. Up this close, the vamp would be able to feel into her subspace pocket. He’d now know what she had. And he’d take it all. Hell, if her quick character assessment was anything to go by, he’d seal the deal by taking every last drop of her blood.

But Jeanette was never very good at judging someone’s character.

You lost, Jeanette, he said, voice strangely even for a man – no, a vamp – with his dagger right up against a victim’s throat.

You… bastard, she snarled.

Perhaps.

You can churn through the magical community, doing whatever you want. But not forever. Someone will stop you eventually. Jeanette tried to take comfort in that. She hardly could, though.

She wanted to be the one to bring justice to the magical community. She had to be the one to stand over every single vamp and prove to them that no matter how powerful they thought they were, they were still part of nature. They were still fallible. And every single one of them could still fall if she pushed hard enough.

But she’d pushed and she’d pushed, and this guy had still won.

Trust me, his voice did this thing, dropping a full register, sounding like it was trying to burrow through the earth, there are worse monsters out there than me.

Jeanette swore a cloud should’ve traveled over the moon at that. The way he snarled that statement, it clearly came from somewhere deep down in his heart. He didn’t just feel this; he bled it.

Jeanette might not be a terribly good judge of character, but when she got out of her own way, she could assess a person’s emotional state, and for a vamp who was in complete control, that statement had derailed him.

He pressed his lips together, swallowed, then straightened. And weirdly, he let her go.

He didn’t plunge the dagger into her throat. He didn’t start drinking. And nor did he reach around and grab out every single talisman Jeanette had. Nope. He just stepped back and pulled her drunken dagger from her grip.

Jeanette wasn’t ashamed to say that she slid down to her knees.

Her body refused to work. Why waste the energy, anyway? The conclusion would be the same.

This vamp had won. He was just playing with her. Soon enough, he’d reach in and end her life.

She didn’t shake, though – never would around one of those monsters. She tilted her head back in defiance and stared at him. He no longer kept himself hidden with that darkness spell. Or maybe the moonlight had warmed up to him. Maybe it was brave enough to light him up now.

It glinted along his jaw and aquiline nose, and it gathered there, just underneath that intense, piercing gaze. And said gaze roved over Jeanette. It was quick enough and seemed to penetrate her defenses well enough that she shivered, from her feet to her knees.

You lost, Jeanette.

Fine. So take my talismans. Do what you want. But know this—

I’m a monster? Like I already said, there are far worse creatures out there than me.

Jeanette hadn’t actually faced him the last time he’d said that. She’d inferred his expression based on the way his voice had rumbled through his tight chest. Now she got to see exactly what his face did. It contracted, this wave of anger – maybe even grief – contorting his cheeks, then his jaw, then his throat. Jeanette had never seen a more perfect example of anatomy before. And anatomy directed toward feeling one thing. Disgust.

It was surely an emotion vampires were built for. But it wasn’t for her.

Jeanette continued to stare up at him, confusion marking her brow, driving her eyes down until they were practically half closed. What the hell do you want?

What I want is simple. And I’ve waited too long for it.

His gaze was steady. He looked only at her.

Jeanette remained there down on her knees. Honestly, she had the strength to jolt up, just no reason to.

He took a step forward. The moon glinted along his blazer once more, the silvery glow highlighting the pompous shield of Broadside. Still holding onto his drunken dagger and hers in the same grip, he lifted his hand and tapped his blazer.

What do you want? Jeanette demanded again.

He tapped the Broadside emblem. Your assistance.

The penny dropped. Sometimes vampires didn’t bother to bleed their victims dry. No. They made them into familiars instead. Little slaves that would run around and do whatever their vampire lord dictated.

Jeanette had never once in all of her life imagined she would ever be a familiar. She’d taken down enough to get to their vampire lords to know she could never swallow such servitude.

He watched her, gaze darting back and forth until a smile crumpled his handsome lips. This is not a request, Jeanette. You lost. And it will be the only way for you to keep your talismans.

Jeanette heard the words keep her talismans, and her world flipped. All the fear gathering through her stomach slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop.

She stared at her drunken dagger, then up into his eyes. What? Do you even know what you’re holding?

I clearly do, as I have my own. And I know just how hard they are to get your hands on. He pointed to her with the hilt of the dagger, eyes taking her in all in one go. Heck, they were like some kind of industrial telescope.