All is Fair

By Jordan Turbeville

RJ has always killed the monsters, but when the newest monster sets its sights on her she'll turn to the person she hates most in order to save them all.

 

The Silver Springs Hunting Club has rules for a reason—to keep Hunters alive. For ten months and five days, RJ has ignored them all doing whatever was necessary to kill every vamp she could to avenge her brother's death at their hands. When she becomes the obsession of a powerful vamp's coven, she'll cross every boundary she has left, including trusting Sterling Thorne again.

 

The clock is ticking and the people around RJ are the targets. If she hopes to save anyone, including herself, she'll have to deal with Sterling's involvement in her brother's death. The complicated history between them, months of passion that ended as abruptly as her brother's life, brings its own set of obstacles to overcome.

As time runs out, RJ learns that love may be able to break you, but it's also the one thing that can soothe the jagged edges and fill the gaping holes left behind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Jun 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781959036609

Book preview

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All is Fair

Silver Springs Hunt Club, 1

JORDAN TUBERVILLE

CHAMPAGNE BOOK GROUP

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All is Fair

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Published by Champagne Book Group

712 SE Winchell Drive, Depoe Bay OR 97341 U.S.A.

~~~

First Edition 2023

eISBN: 978-1-959036-60-9

Copyright © 2023 Jordan Tuberville All rights reserved.

Cover Art by Sevannah Storm

Champagne Book Group supports copyright which encourages creativity and diverse voices, creates a rich culture, and promotes free speech. Thank you for complying by not scanning, uploading, and distributing this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher. Your purchase of an authorized electronic edition supports the author’s rights and hard work and allows Champagne Book Group to continue to bring readers fiction at its finest.

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To Cole: Until the end.

To Mawmaw: You would have hated this book,

but you were proud of me anyway.

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Dear Reader:

The mere fact that you exist blows my mind. I cherish each and every one of you and hope this story is, if nothing else, entertaining for you. If you spend your time and money on me, I truly hope I make it worth your while.

Until the end, dear readers. Until the end.

Jordan

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Chapter One

Hey, Red

The clack of my stilettos on the stained concrete floor is my own personal war drum. I drove three hours on the most boring stretch of interstate to get to the closest college town outside of Silver Springs. I needed to find a packed bar for my hunt tonight. Thirsty Thursday is always prime hunting ground.

My prey for the evening—the insanely hot brunette with her assets on display like they’re masterpieces worthy of the Louvre—has been eyeing me at the pool table for the last half hour. I put my own particular assets on display for this very particular reason.

Her gaze zeroes in on me as she juts out the tip of her tongue and slicks it across her lower lip, and if I didn’t know what a monster she was I would definitely see the appeal because damn. That was hot.

Hey, Red, she says.

Her gaze is hungry as she watches me approach. Her voice is deeper than I imagined, with a Janis Joplin sort of gravel to it. A voice I’m sure has made men and women fall to their knees with want.

Were you going to stare all night, or come over and take what I know you want? No need to beat around the bush. She doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys the chase. No. Her kind relishes willing victims.

Don’t you want to finish your game? Her eyes flicker behind me to the pool table I’d abandoned.

I think I found something much more interesting to play with. My gaze roves over her. White hot rage slithers through my blood. She’s probably lured countless men and women to their deaths. Bitch.

I quirk my lips into the suggestive tilt I’ve perfected for these moments. Unless you actually came here for the live music. I point to the band still going strong on the small, raised stage. And I’m just making an ass out of myself.

She doesn’t even glance at the band pouring their hearts into the music. I think I’d rather hear the sweet sounds you can make.

My heart races in my chest, thrashing against my ribcage with the force of adrenaline building inside me.

Three shrines sit on the lawn outside of the university’s student union. Three people are missing because of this monster or one like it. I don’t care that the probability this vamp is the one responsible for those lives is slim to none. The itch to grab my blade is nearly irresistible.

Patience, RJ.

She throws back her drink and stands. Come with me, Red. I’ll make this night one you’ll never forget.

Oh, I don’t doubt that at all.

My phone rings as I’m following the she-demon from the bar and toward her sleek, black Audi R8. Not my choice of ride, but still nice.

I pull my phone from my back pocket, wriggling it free from the skin tight leather. It’s Charlie. Shit.

She-demon pulls at one of my red curls. Everything okay?

I smile at her. Just let me take this real quick. This thing will ring all night if I don’t answer. I’d hate to be interrupted later.

She winks and climbs into the driver’s seat. Take your time then, so we can have all night.

I grin, turn from her, and take a few steps from the car. Sucking down a deep breath, I brace myself. Hey, Charlie. What’s up?

What’s up? Seriously, RJ? You left me high and dry tonight.

I snort. I did not. You’re being overdramatic.

Says the one who literally left me a mysterious, cryptic message about missing practice tonight. She puts on her RJ voice. I hate the RJ voice. It’s low and breathy and not how I sound at all. Going out tonight. I’ll probably be too busy to answer any calls.

That is not how I sound, you freak. A smile tugs at my lips despite her claim.

Yeah. It is. That’s exactly how she sounds, right, guys? I have to put the phone at arm’s length so my eardrums don’t rupture at the chorus of yeahs. See? I’m not the only one who thinks you sound like a damn phone sex worker.

Well apparently my phone sex worker sounding ass has game, because I’ve got someone begging me to have some fun tonight. So can you please tell me why you called so I can get back to my evening?

Oh ho ho, sorry to ruin your fun. You do realize you owe me, right? You left me with these dumbasses to get your world rocked by the coach? Couldn’t Ryan get in some bedroom coaching some other time? We have a show next weekend, RJ. I have to sit here and listen to these idiots argue about setlists, when we all know they have no clue about how to build anything to a crescendo and you and I will have to do all the work anyway.

She’s not wrong. The guys suck at planning a good set. What do you want?

It has to be something amazing. This woman. I can picture the taunting smile on her face.

I’ll cover your shift in the archives every day next week.

She hums like she’s thinking. Normally I’d decline because I know you actually like the archives for some insane reason, but I hate having to sort the new shipments of files, so it’s a deal. Now, go get down, girl!

With no other warning, the line goes dead. Charlie is such an ass sometimes, but I love her. She’s been my best friend since first grade when a kid yanked my red hair and called me a leprechaun. Charlie broke his nose.

I thought she’d be my sister once, but those dreams were shattered by the same sort of monster I was hunting tonight.

Vamps ruin everything if given the chance.

It’s my turn to do the ruining.

As I stuff my phone back into my pocket, I lean down to finger the handle of the silver dagger sheathed inside my over-the-knee boot—stripper boots, according to Charlie—and picture every person I still have left.

Tonight, I’ll destroy the monster, dance on the ashes, then go hunt down the next vamp who dares get too close to my family.

I lost Tarryn. Losing Teej, my brother and closest friend, nearly broke me.

I refuse to lose anyone else.

This vendetta, this crusade I’ve thrown myself into, is for Teej. My brother, Tarryn ‘TJ’ Jacquard. But it’s also for everyone else I love.

I’ll end every single vamp out there if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.

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Chapter Two

Bite me, Bitch

The she-demon leans against the driver’s side of her car, her eyes locked on me with hunger that makes my stomach churn.

She heard my conversation, there’s no doubt about it.

Vamps are cocky assholes. They assume they’re coming out on top because they’ve been given the deadly skills to help them do so: better hearing, better vision, strength, flesh shredding fangs, wicked good looks. Those are about the only things the media has ever gotten right.

There’s another thing on the vamps’ side. Willing victims. Even the poor saps out there who might find out their partner for the evening is a blood-sucking devil allow those life-ending fangs into their skin because they’ve been taught to do so.

Idiots.

What this monster doesn’t know is that I know. I know what she is. I know her strengths, and I also know her weaknesses. That over-confidence? It’s her biggest one.

"You ready?’

I stop in front of her, barely a hairsbreadth between us. My lips graze her cheek when I answer. More than.

When she opens the car door, she presses more firmly against me. Let’s go, then.

She slips into the car and turns the ignition over, the sound of the engine covering the music lingering from the bar.

Nerves flood me, but I push them aside. I have to do this. She doesn’t deserve to walk this earth. None of them do. By the time I slide into the passenger seat, my hands have quit shaking and the blithe expression I’ve mastered is plastered on my face.

The drive takes us about thirty minutes. Not far, but it’s thirty minutes in the opposite direction. I’ll need to go to clean up after I’ve gotten rid of the beast who’s dragging her knuckles higher and higher up my thigh the closer we get to her place. She doesn’t stop touching me until I step out of the car.

Thank the good lord above I wore pants.

So, this is your place? I take in the row of townhouses, the Buicks and Lincolns parked up and down the street, and the landscaping that’s been done with an eye of someone who’s been doing it for years.

The driveway leads to a cream colored, wooden home covered in gaudy décor left over from Christmas. It’s probably whatever the older couple put up and didn’t have time to take down before she killed them.

I’m pretty sure my grandma has the same stair climbing Santa leaning against her tree every year. The animatronics have nearly worn out and the paint has rubbed off his cheeks, but she refuses to retire the poor thing.

She shrugs. What can I say? I love Christmas.

Another lie: vampires can’t say the name of God. Hell yes, they can. They have no soul to be condemned. It fled from the meat suit as soon as their true life came to an abrupt end. All that’s left within them is the id, the drive to fulfill their instincts, their desires, whatever they may be.

I can tell. When I step around the car, her hands are on me again. Her fingers slip between mine, and she drags me up the steps.

The inside is just as telling; this is not her house. It cannot be the house of a middle-aged woman who dresses in the equivalent of lingerie and frequents bars for one-night stands.

The beige floral-patterned couch, lace curtains, and smell of mothballs solidifies my instincts. Did you decorate this house? Or did it come furnished?

She plays with the hem of my shirt. I let her lift it over my head and get an eyeful. Lust glazes her eyes.

The bitch goes back to her groping. Her hands are freezing against my skin. The lack of blood flow is to blame. It also means she hasn’t eaten within the last couple of days, and she isn’t just planning to get a taste tonight.

She’s definitely planning to drain me then put my remains wherever she put the owner of this home. I think we have better things to do than discuss my décor.

Her front teeth nip at my earlobe as her palms, so smooth it’s creepy, skate across my body. A fingertip slides into the sheer cup of my bra. My nipple hardens at the icy touch. Her eyes meet mine with obvious intent.

Bedroom?

Just upstairs, she says.

I follow her up the steps, my shirt abandoned behind me, my rage burning hot within.

Black silk hits my face. Underwear. I’m shocked she had any on.

Not wasting any time, are you? I grin as she pats the bed next to her.

Undress. Not just an order, but a compulsion.

The urge to do as she wishes flows through me. I reach behind my back and flick the bra clasp, drag the straps down my arms, then drop the material next to her thong.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she perches behind me, her knees straddling my hips. Too cold, too wet kisses trail up my neck as her arms circle me and pull me against her.

Chuckling, I sit forward. It’s hard to get these off with you doing that.

"Sweetheart, the whole point is to get you off. Lay back."

But—

Now. Another compulsion.

Disgust. As she’s above me, as her lips and teeth and tongue caress my body, mine urges me to leave, to get as far from this monster as possible. I count the seconds to myself, waiting for the compulsion to wear off. Even after practicing fighting them for years, hers are strong.

I roll us, pinning her beneath me. My turn.

When I stand, bending to remove a boot, she tries to pull me back on top of her. Patience, wicked thing.

The first boot slides off. Move up the bed. Her nostrils flare at the command, but she heeds it. As she turns to crawl to the pillows, I slide the second boot free and palm the dagger.

Before she can face me, I climb onto the bed behind her, blade angled and ready. I’m not above stabbing a bitch in the back. She spins too fast, my aim ruined. The blade squelches and thick, black liquid oozes from her shoulder. Her skin sizzles against the pure silver.

You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you? She laughs, actual amusement filling the sound, then plucks the blade free and tosses it across the room. Thought you could distract me with a tight body and a few delicious curves? It almost worked.

She eyes me up and down, her gaze catching on my rapid pulse instead of my breasts. Too bad you didn’t let us have some fun first. I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed it.

Lighting fast, her iron grip is on my jaw. I’ve learned how to make it painless, pleasurable, even. I could’ve given that to you. Now, I think you should feel every ounce of torment I can offer.

It hurts, but I get the words out. Bite me, bitch.

Her lip curls, giving me a good look at those fangs. If you insist.

She leans in and I use her momentum against her, flipping her over me. We both roll off the bed. I leap to my feet, racing for the discarded dagger.

My grip closes around the handle right before a freight train rams into my side. A crack fills the air as my ribcage meets the edge of a door. I can’t breathe. Shit.

The sigh of hands across metal registers, and I look up. The devil stands over me, a butterfly knife now in her grasp. I scoot away, my fist hidden behind me, gripping my only lifeline.

I prefer this toy for occasions such as this. The pad of her finger presses against the tip of the blade as she kneels before me. I’ll take my time with you. You hunters are such an arrogant bunch. It’ll be nice to prove what a waste of space you truly are.

The blade slices along my abdomen with no resistance. Black spots fill my vision. You think a few scrapes from you are anything compared to what I’ve lived through?

The blade drags to the left. Your life means less to me than the wrinkled hag’s that lived here. At least she had something of value to offer me.

Close. Yet not close enough.

Do you always play with your food this much? I wheeze. Seems rather childish.

She stares at me. You really don’t care if you die, do you?

I whisper, so quietly even her vamp hearing can’t pick it up. She leans closer. I grip the blade. I say it louder. Not one damn bit.

I thrust the blade through her eye socket. Shrill screams cut through the silent house. I rip it out and slam it into her other eye.

I have thirty minutes, tops, before her wounds heal. Silver delays the process, but only so much. I need to get her tied up, need to get some answers, need to end the bitch.

~ * ~

It took me a little over two hours to drive to the cabin.

I took the vamp’s Audi back to the bar, switched it for my Chevelle, and raced here. Not smart.

What would I have said if I got pulled over and the officer saw me covered in blood? Mine red. The vamp’s black. Oh, sorry officer. Had a costume party to go to.

I snugged my belt over a makeshift pillowcase bandage as tightly as possible, and I’d lost too much blood.

The large cabin, more of a mansion, sits deep in the forest outside of town. Most of the locals know about it, but they think it’s an exclusive hunting camp. I guess it is, but the Silver Springs Hunt Club isn’t into deer. It’s a monster slayer’s dream camp.

Hundreds of acres of wilderness surround the cabin. Within its walls are a training facility, a weapons room, an infirmary, a state-of-the-art kitchen, and dozens of bedrooms. Outside there’s a bootcamp style training course and lots of land to hide the monsters’ bodies that don’t turn to ash.

Fresh tire tracks were left out front. Fresh, because yesterday’s rain didn’t wash them away. I stumble through the door. A trail of filth outlines my path across the hardwood floors. Hardwood because it’s easier to clean and doesn’t show blood stains.

I’m glad they’re gone, whoever it was. I don’t feel like answering questions. I barely feel like getting myself cleaned and bandaged. It’s been a long day after an even longer month.

I all but fall into the floor of the infirmary’s shower after twisting the knob. Water rushes over me. Scalding, to get the lingering sensation of the monster from my skin.

It takes all the will I have left to get out of the stream and look for the suture kit. If I had the nerve to use the staples on myself, this would be so much quicker.

Instead, I have to stitch myself up. I’m shit at stitching myself.

Stitch. Salve. Bandage. Sleep.

The mantra plays on repeat as I stab the needle through my skin over and over and over again.

The salve, a special blend the Rosales family provided, stings when I rub it against the wound. The gauze presses uncomfortably against the stitching.

The clock ticks behind me. I don’t want to look at it, knowing I’ll be disappointed when I see it.

4:52 AM.

An entire night lost. And for what? A month of hunting and one dead vamp is all I have to show for it. The only information I could squeeze out of her was that she wouldn’t go near the bastard making a claim on Silver Springs with a thirty-foot pole. That was after I’d done the unspeakable.

Hunters aren’t supposed to let any monster get hold of us. We’re supposed to die before we let that happen. It’s rule number one for a reason.

I gave up on rules ten months and five days ago. I will do anything to rid the world of blood sucking parasites.

Even with my offering to her, which she salivated and screamed and begged for, the vamp didn’t give me any helpful information. The past month has truly sucked. Also, the fact that I haven’t made any headway on the first hunt I insisted I could handle on my own since Teej’s death isn’t great.

My parents must regret the decision we came to about how ready I am to hunt on my own. In their eyes, the black cloud that fueled my anger and rage would only be a detriment to my hunting. In my eyes, it’s my fuel.

I calculate how long I’ll have to wait until I can go out again without putting myself at risk of further injury. I poke at the stitches below my clothes and wince. My ribs ache with each breath.

Too damn long is the timeframe I came up with.

Before I leave, I may send out a call to the rest of the club and see what help they can offer me.

First, I’m getting a couple of hours of sleep.

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Chapter Three

Trainwreck

The library is busier than normal for a Friday morning. I guess the missing people and the citywide curfew has forced the students to focus on their education. Wild. If this wasn’t my day job, and I didn’t need to cover my own ass after the shitshow I put on last night, I don’t think I’d have any motivation to be here at all.

Exhaustion practically drips from my pores.

Watching that bitch disintegrate into a pile of ashes was worth it. Knowing one less vamp is out there is worth it, even if she isn’t the monster I’ve been hunting for the past few weeks.

One missing person a week.

Three weeks. Three people.

The townspeople aren’t reacting the way