Eternal Guard Eternal Hunt

By Tina Smith

Whatever Doesn’t Kill You, Makes You Stronger...Attacked and kidnapped, Farren wakes injured to find herself an unwilling test subject for the vampires. Soon realising college friend Jack has betrayed her. Farren’s horror grows when she discovers she is pregnant. Her only hope of escape from Scion is the Guard but as time passes, this seems impossible. As she waits, rescue comes in an unlikely form. It seems she and her unborn child are safe for the moment, until things suddenly take a turn for the worse. Abandoned after giving birth, Farren is barely alive when an old friend finds her after receiving a tip off. Recovered, Farren slowly sets about exacting her revenge, with or without help, when she uncovers a secret vampire legacy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tina Smith
• Release date: Sep 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9780648866428

Tina Smith

Author of the Wolf Sirens series, the sequel Wolf Sirens Fever, Wolf Sirens Night Fall and Dusk in Shade.A paranormal series of Y/A romance genre novels, featuring goddesses, wolves, intrigue and action.Tina was born in the Bega Valley, on the Sapphire Coast of New South Wales. She currently lives in Adelaide, South Australia, with her cherished daughter and their cocker spaniel, Billey. She is a Herbalist, final year Naturopathic student and Health food store employee. She love's to write paranormal romance/fantasy and for Wolf Sirens she learnt to shoot. Tina believes nothing beats first hand experience. She enjoys soaping, movies, reading, a bit of reality T.V, alone time and is slightly obsessed with creative writing.

Book preview

ETERNAL GUARD #2

Eternal Hunt

TINA SMITH

© Copyright 2022 Tina Smith

Cover Image Copyright Tina Smith. All rights reserved – used with permission.

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold, reproduced or transmitted without express consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book may not be given away. Each reader is required to purchase their own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Thank you to Sally J Dillon for her continued support and hard work in editing and patiently scouring my work. No one understands the labour involved like you. I know this year my writing has been a welcome distraction for us both. Roger is up in heaven watching over us and I know he’d be damn proud that we managed to get another one out. Also, thanks Sabine Hamilton for beta reading. I really do appreciate it!

Contents

Preface Trapped

Lazarus

Heir

Jeepers_Creepers

Reapers_Keepers

Bitter_Pill

Broken_Hours

The_Storm

Blood_and_Darkness

The_Eye_of_The_Storm

Born_in_The_Dawn

Blood_Debts

Blood_and_Bone

The_Grey

Hidden_in_Plain_Sight

Moonlight

Blood_Sweat_and_Tears

Crescent

Vampire_Politics

Just_Desert

Forget_Something

Red_Desert

Bitter_Taste

Toxic_but_Sweet

Prologue_Rebel_with_a_Cause

About_The_Author

About_The_Series

Glossary

Preface

Trapped

In the cells hours passed, then days. The paint-peeled walls loomed in. My reverie was broken intermittently by the squeal of the iron door. I was attended by nurses who remained silent as a potbellied orderly dressed in white stood guard.

They took my vitals, recording them on a clipboard whilst avoiding my eyes and handed me a little cup filled with pills. After these brief visits I would lay back in the cot as the sun rose and set. I watched the column of light on the far wall that shone through the top of the barred window. Despondently, I wished it was all a bad dream as the cold of dusk crept in.

I was huddling in my bed in the darkness, when footsteps in the hall alerted me to their approach, the slide of the door being unlatched made me tense. The hinges whined. My eyes hurt from the artificial light that flooded the room as I rose, squinting.

A stone-faced woman that I didn’t recognize came into focus. Come with me, she said assertively. The stern set of her painted mouth and the stocky stance of her body warned of necessary force.

She led me down the hall, her thick orthopedic shoes squeaked on the blue speckled laminate floors. I followed timidly through a doorway and into a room that opened to reveal a large dining area and kitchenette. The metal benches and tables were cemented to the floor. I looked towards the stalwart woman unsure of what to do.

Wait here, she ordered sternly as she headed away.

Lingering cautiously for a few moments, I decided to sit at a bench. The air smelled of dish liquid and I saw suds left in the scratched stainless-steel sink mounted crookedly against the wall. I scanned the room nervously as I supposed the whole place was some sort of old jail. I wouldn’t get far if I ran, but that wouldn’t stop me trying –though I was still healing from the accident. I touched my scalp, as I waited on the uncomfortable bench, feeling lightheaded. I knew they were most likely sedating me as I drew in a breath, eyes closed.

I heard doors whining and murmurs, as the clack of footsteps and shuffling approached from the hall, putting me on high alert again.

Women with grey circles under their eyes sauntered in, dressed in blue prison garb and slippers. They sat at the tables around me as a guard with keys on a belt waited by the door.

Another woman wearing high heeled shoes with a pale complexion and straight posture wheeled a tall, shelved trolley filled with metal trays. The tired women got up, forming a loose line and took one each. I observed as they sat back at the tables. The clank of cutlery and the sound of chewing filled the room. Some of the women murmured to each other, as the pale nurse slid me a tray with her eyes narrowed. I ate slowly.

As they each finished, they made themselves tea in the kitchen and had some minimal conversation before heading out. As one woman left, she looked back at me before disappearing after the others down the hall.

I took a few more mouthfuls to finish my tray of food as someone else entered the room. I looked over to see a familiar face, Jack.

I was too stunned to speak, my heart skipped a beat, but I noticed that he was not wearing the same garb that the others were as I recalled his betrayal and contained myself.

He joined me at the table sheepishly, I sat up straight and squared my shoulders.

Are you alright? he asked in a soft voice.

Where am I? my eyes narrowed a moment as I focused on him, but immediately my resolve softened. I hoped he could help me as I searched his averted eyes.

Scion, he admitted, blue eyes to the floor.

The word made my stomach grip into a knot. It confirmed that Simone had me, he had validated my worst fear. What is this place? my mouth went dry.

An old juvenile detention center.

Where? my voice was a croak.

I can’t tell you that.

Why are you here? I replied sharply.

I believe Scion can find a cure... he turned his head at an angle.

You believe their methods? I responded bitterly, dropping my hands.

I didn’t want them to hurt you.

Inside I reeled. They did. I wanted him to look at the stitches in my head.

He looked down, once more.

I persisted. Where are the others?

They were left there.

In Nebraska, he didn’t elaborate. I swallowed, What are they doing to the women here?

They are like you.

What? Test subjects? My lips clamped together.

Call it what you like.

I clenched my back teeth. Prisoners. I thought a moment as he avoided my gaze. Human guinea pigs. I could feel my heartbeat rising.

How do you expect them to find a cure? he replied more tentatively.

I don’t know, ethically?

That’s all well and good but that way could take forever.

So, this is fine, them testing me and keeping me locked up like a caged animal and doing Christ knows what to these women? He refused to look into my eyes as I added, Because you want a cure? I didn’t hide my horror.

They are getting it done faster than the Guard.... he reasoned.

They had brain washed him. Eric never would have approved this.

This is Eric’s facility.

I didn’t believe him. He kept me in a nice house by the beach.

Maybe you should have stayed there, he offered, flicking his downcast eyes up to me and then away as he blinked heavily.

I returned the same tone, Hindsight is 20/20.

He got up, abruptly.

Who runs this now… I asked. He faced the door, a hand on his hip.

He paused and swallowed, Brak and Simone. He headed for the doorway.

I rushed to ask, —Is my brother here?

No.

Will you be back? I called.

I always am, he answered under his breath as he disappeared.

I wasn’t going to let him have the last word, I got up and went after him.

He couldn’t just leave me there. How the hell was I go going to get out. He was heading down the empty hall.

Jack?

He turned, rigid.

Who are the other women? I asked as he avoided my eyes.

Volunteers. He turned brusquely and continued down the hall. A waiting orderly slid a lock and let him through a gate. Before it was latched after him and I watched through the bars as they walked away.

*

I made my way in the opposite direction and saw through a wide doorway off the corridor that the women were sitting around casually, some watching T.V and others making craft at a table. Another was knitting in a chair.

As I walked in, the women seemed to note my presence but barely looked to acknowledge me, two were playing cards. I sat awkwardly on the cracked vinyl couch. Wondering if the others were Descendants, like me. One of them had a visibly rounded belly, I avoided staring.

Another woman sat next to me.

I’m Kathy.

Hi, I answered feeling reserved.

How far along are you?

Sorry? I didn’t follow.

She touched her belly. I’m 30 weeks. Under the baggy clothes I could see a bump.

I realized she thought I was like her. I cast a look at the others. I realized most were visibly pregnant as my stomach dropped. Are you all…

Pregnant? she offered.

Yes, a half smile lingered on her lips.

The blood drained from my face.

Her smile fell as she touched my arm. Are you alright?

I started to feel my blood run cold…

Lazarus

Under darkness of night, crickets sang. Through sculpted gardens, obscured by thick moss-covered trees a white antebellum building stood, silently reflecting the clouded moonlight in the humid air. From the undulating grounds, shadowy figures swiftly encroached. They crept toward the building and scattered, disappearing behind Greek pillars.

Inside the building, high ceilings were supported by scalloped columns which stood upon a smooth grey and white checker marble floor. Stone pedestals mounted with Grecian busts sat placed in corners, watching staunchly. The expansive foyer met an opulent round fountain, filled with still water. Above, carved cherubs partly obscured the view of a long hall. Tall rectangular boxes with clear glass fronts lined the walls either side of a dim corridor between white pilasters. Each display was lit from above by a wall mounted picture light, illuminating the depth of the corridor. Under the dull glow, each mounted display contained a single gaunt and deathly pale, human figure. Each mummified body within was bonier and more hollowed than the last. This lead to a small foyer and a large wooden door which was surrounded by more coffin like cases, seemingly empty, except for pyramids of coal black dust piled inside.

The expansive building was dim and silent, until a shuffle and dull thump in the main foyer disturbed the air. A recessed vent popped loose from the ceiling, dislodging with a puff of fine dust. A man wearing a balaclava slipped stealthily down and landed upright on the balls of his feet with barely a sound. He stilled, a weighty, yet small, sack was lowered carefully from the square void above. He scooped it into his hands and then he walked ahead with a stilted gate, eyes wary. The dull thumping from above ceased suddenly, before a second darkly clad individual descended from the hole, clasping the high ceiling and hanging a moment by his arms before releasing his grip to drop. The first man paused as he landed softly on the shiny floor beneath, poising on the balls of his feet, knees bent before he sauntered in the same direction. They walked past the fountain piled with the smiling cherubs, to the long hall. Passing the many coffins either side, containing women and men – all as still as statues. A woman within a case at the beginning of the hall opened her dark slit eyes as they passed. They made their way along and then came to a stop at the illuminated coffin marked with a brass plate that read: Julius Osinski.

The first man knelt and sat down the baby sized calico sack, he gave an imperceptible nod and produced a device from his jacket pocket, rising as he positioned it against the silver padlock on the side of the case. He leant in and as he applied light pressure, a muffled drill began to whine, echoing through the hall. As the second man waited, he grasped the sack, seemingly holding it at the ready before the drill abruptly stopped as the lock broke with a click. Both men stilled. The shrivelled body inside the glass box opened his hollow crusted eyes as the man with the drill stepped back, his breath held. The door latch rattled. The broken lock clattered dully on the floor. The glass coffin lid released with a small, long squeak. The two men shared a glance as the blackened corpse-like fingers emerged with a tremor from within the upright coffin, to grip the edge of the open lid.

Blood, the first man ordered with a rasp, eyes locked on the coffin. The other man suddenly knelt and hurried to unfurl the sack.

The sign above read ‘Encased 2005’.

Heir

I lifted my head from the toilet bowl with a tremble. There was wet chartreuse colored vomit in my hair and I wiped it with a coarse paper towel. Ugh.

Head down again, I spat in the bowl as the taste of bile burnt my throat.

It didn’t make sense; how could Scion use me as a test subject if they had impregnated me? I sat, on the tiles in the half-bathroom, feeling exhausted while trying to process the situation or maybe not processing things at all.

What had happened to Joe and the others? I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t be coming to find me. The Guard would surely not let me go so easily. I rose and looked into the mirror at my pale face. I wiped at my wet nose and narrowed my watery eyes. They had shaved my hair in a patch. I ran a finger over the stitches holding together the red gash above my forehead and the green bruising down the side of my face. My lips were dry and cracked, my fingers traced the grey circles above my cheeks. The poorly ventilated bathroom air was warm and stagnant. I turned the squeaky tap and splashed my face with the brown tainted water. I winced, rubbing hard as though the action would suddenly wake me up. My attention turned to the muffled sounds outside the door – what were they doing with all those pregnant women, I wondered?

Standing straight, I clenched my stomach muscles as denial wracked me. I decided that I was there as a test subject and the other women were there for surrogacy as I dabbed my face dry with another coarse paper towel. They were just fucking with me, I knew it, I took a deep breath. But then nausea swept through me like a slow wave, as I bent my head forward to prevent myself wrenching. I realized the other women must be carrying Descendant babies – soon enough, Scion wouldn’t need me for my blood. God only knew how long they had been manufacturing Descendants, my hand found my mouth as I considered that Eric