Tournament of Blood: Her Wicked Vampires, #1

By Amelia Shaw and Angela Edgehart

Vampires killed my parents and I hate them with every ounce of my damn soul. I hate them so much I've dedicated my life to becoming one of the most lethal assassins around. As a result, most of my days are soaked in the blood of bad guys—the mortal kind.

When the unique opportunity arises for me to join the legendary and infamous 'Slayers' and cull real paranormals, I'm all in. I can almost taste my revenge…

There's just one catch. To secure a place within their coveted ranks I must participate in a deadly tournament where it's kill or be killed. I'm going to need to keep my wits about me to survive this and come out on top.

So, naturally, I'm drawn to the two biggest distractions in the game; a pair of wickedly gorgeous assassins who also just happen to be my roommates for the duration of the tournament.

I'm all for a little fun, but our connection is frighteningly deep and intimate; and soon has me questioning whether soul mates exist. And for the first time in forever, I finally care about something other than my chance to kill bloodsuckers.

But Blake and Noah are keeping a dangerous secret, one that may well cost me everything—including my bloody life!

Sink your fangs into this seductive, thrilling, and action-packed paranormal romance NOW!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harley Romance Publishing
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223087724

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

LEXI

Another cry came from behind the closed door, stoking the flames of hatred I had for the men I was hired to kill. How many women were back there in cages, waiting to be sold to some rich scumbag?

I crouched low in the shadows cast by rows of metal barrels, careful not to make a sound as I crept closer to one of the men that helped fill this place with helpless women. My position on the platform gave me a bird’s-eye view of the floor below, where he sat typing on a laptop beside a discarded stack of papers. Whatever this building used to manufacture, had long since been shut down and deserted.

A burly man came in from the room where the women were being kept, rubbing at his blotchy, thick neck. The cries became louder, then faded again as the door swung open and then shut.

Hey, Chuck, did you get the new girls filed yet? the blotchy necked one asked. They’re being shipped off in a couple hours, and you know Morris likes all the paperwork done first.

Working on it, Chuck, who was a lanky man in a blue button up shirt, replied as he continued clicking away on the keyboard.

Blotchy Neck placed the heels of his palms on the back of the chair to peer over Chuck’s shoulder as he noisily chewed on a piece of gum. Well, hurry up.

Most of the lights in the old building were burned out, but a few lamps had been plugged in around the make-shift desk, which allowed for enough light for Chuck to work.

Anastasia—the woman who’d raised and trained me—crept down the rusty metal stairs on the other side of the platform with her dart gun aimed at the Blotchy Neck. She eyed me, and I gave her a nod. We had to hit our targets as simultaneously as possible to avoid giving one of them the chance to respond.

We always carried a gun on the job but only used them in an emergency. Guns were too loud. They often drew unwanted attention. Knives were more my weapon of choice.

Wrapping gloved hands around the metal railing in front of me, I swung down and landed as silently as a cat. Blotchy Neck swung his head around as I freed one of my sharp throwing knives from the holster around my thigh and let it fly.

Chuck yelped like a wounded pup and clasped his neck. Anastasia’s dart had met its mark. The lethal poison in it would work in seconds.

The tip of my knife had pierced his partner’s neck. He fell to the ground beside Chuck. Blotchy Neck grabbed at the blade, soaking his hand in the blood bubbling from the wound.

I sauntered up to him and put the toe of my boot on his shoulder. I’m going to need that back.

His answer was an unintelligible gurgle, though he glared at me with a strength that surprised me.

Reaching down, I pulled the weapon free of his thick neck, wiped his blood on my pant leg, and stuck the knife back in the hoister at my waist.

Fuck you, he managed to get out as the blood flowed in rivulets over his throat and down the sides of his neck.

I watched the life drain from his eyes with a smirk, glad his death wasn’t quick or painless. Satisfied, I turned to find purple-faced Chuck slumped over onto the desk with foam at his mouth.

Yeah, the poison had done the job.

Metallic ringing snapped my attention upwards. A third man in a gray trench coat chased Anastasia up the stairs.

Shit! Where did he come from?

We’d checked the perimeters before entering the building. He had to have shown up after we’d gone inside.

Anastasia pulled out her pistol. From a few steps below her, Mr. Trench Coat grabbed her ankles before she could aim the weapon at him. She fell on the stairs, her weapon flying out of her hand.

Anastasia rolled and jumped to her feet. A gash marred her left eyebrow. She must have hit it on the stairs when she fell. Blood covered half of her face. She wiped it from her eye and made to kick him in the chest. He ducked, causing her to miss.

Damn. He must be trained in combat.

He wouldn’t go down as easily as the other two, and we didn’t have the element of surprise with this bastard.

I’d had enough. Taking my pistol out of its holster, I aimed at him.

With lighting speed, he grabbed Anastasia around her shoulders with one arm and pressed his gun to her neck. Move and I’ll finish her!

My muscles froze, but I kept my gun aimed at his head. My gaze locked with Anastasia’s. I swallowed hard.

Come on, Ana. You can get out of this.

Her eyes were wide and her mouth was tight. Blood trickled down the side of her face.

Lower your gun, or I’ll shoot, Mr. Trench Coat said.

Willing my hands to remain steady, I lowered my pistol. I couldn’t be the reason she died. We’d been in situations similar to this before. I knew her mind was working out a solution.

He laughed, believing he’d won. You’re pretty enough to make me some decent cash. This one’s a bit old. And since she’s of no use, I think I’ll kill her anyway.

Do that and I’ll kill you, I spat.

I needed his attention off her, even for a second.

The joy fell from his face.

We’ll see about that. He forced Ana to walk forward a few steps so they were off the stairs. Place your weapon on the ground.

When I didn’t move, he pressed his gun harder against her and she rolled her neck away from the sting of the metal.

Okay! Okay! I didn’t want to do it, but we needed more time.

Slowly, and carefully, I bent down and set my pistol on the cement floor. He wasn’t going to take his gun off her if he felt threatened.

I raised both empty hands and straightened my spine.

Now, move to that door. He gestured with his revolver toward the room where the women were being kept, taking his gun off Ana’s neck.

Ha! Gotcha.

Anastasia flicked the concealed dagger out from under the sleeve of her wrist and stuck it up through the bottom of his jaw with a single, powerful thrust.

Stunned, Mr. Trench Coat pulled the trigger, but the bullet shot high over my head and hit a wall. His weapon clattered to the ground, and then he sunk to his knees and grasped the handle of the stiletto with both hands.

Looks like our boss will be getting three for the price of two. Anastasia smirked, watching him die with satisfaction.

I retrieved my pistol and tucked it back in its holster. I’m sure we can convince him we deserve a bonus.

When Mr. Trench Coat stopped moving, she yanked her blade free and picked up her gun. Let’s call this in and get these ladies taken care of.

Our only job was to take out our targets. Once we called our boss, he would have a team sent in to rescue the women and ensure they made it safely back to their homes.

You all right? I raised one brow in concern. You’re bleeding all over the place.

I’ll be fine, Alexis. She took out her cellphone and made the call to the man we simply called ‘Boss’ as we walked outside to the black sedan we’d parked up the road from the building. She rubbed at her hip, limping a little. Those stairs had done a number on her.

Neither of us knew our boss’s actual name. Anastasia had been doing jobs for him since before I was born, though. I had a feeling he worked for someone high up in government, but I knew better than to ask questions.

No problem, Boss. She finished the call as we reached the car.

I popped the trunk open and passed her an alcohol wipe and a bandage. I’ll drive. Clean yourself up.

She tossed me the keys and we slid onto the cool leather seats. The flashy neon lights reflecting off the damp pavement welcomed us back to the heart of the city. We drove in silence. Anastasia leaned the back of her head against the seat and closed her eyes.

I’d thought she’d fallen asleep until she said, I’m getting too old for this.

"You’re fifty-two. You’re not that old."

You’re only twenty-five. You’ll understand when you get to my age. My body feels everything so much more, and my reflexes aren’t as fast as they once were.

I took my eyes off the road to look at her for a second. You’re just saying that because of what happened tonight. You kicked ass back there, though.

It’s not only tonight. I’ve been feeling this way for some time.

I sighed. I didn’t want to argue. It was late and we were both tired. Neither of us said anything else until after I’d parked in the underground lot beneath our apartment building and we were on our way up in the elevator to the top floor.

When we reached our floor, she turned to me. You know… there are other assassins out there you could work with.

I don’t want to work with anyone else. I like working with you. We’d been doing this since I was eighteen and I’d insisted I was ready to join her. And besides, what about Boss? He needs us.

He has others he can use.

The elevator dinged as the doors slid opened to let us exit. I fished the key out of my back pocket and opened our apartment door.

I loved our home. It was big for an apartment and had lots of windows and a minimalistic, modern décor.

Others like Irma? I questioned, unzipping my boots and pulling them off. The cool tiles felt nice on my hot feet after having them stuffed in leather for hours.

Irma had worked with Ana before I started doing jobs. I didn’t particularly like the self-righteous woman, who I swore always looked down on everyone.

No, Ana said as she set her weapons on the counter to be cleaned at a later time. There’s a tournament being held. It starts in two nights. The top three winners will join the Slayers.

I wrinkled my nose. The Slayers? Who on earth were they?"

They are a secret group of assassins who take out supernaturals.

Now she had my attention. I’d always wanted to go after the creatures that plagued our city. Vampires in particular. They were the reason I was an orphan. Anastasia had never let me get involved with them, though. There were enough human monsters to keep us busy, she’d always said. That she was suggesting this… I didn’t know what to think.

You really believe I could win this tournament?

A shadow of a smile lifted the corners of her lips. You won’t know unless you try. Here.

She fished a piece of paper out of her coat that hung on a hook on the wall, then handed it to me.

I stared at the address and date scrawled on it. What is this?

It’s the time and location of the first part of the tournament.

Shit… she really has thought this through.

Perhaps these Slayers would be able to give me answers about my past.

CHAPTER TWO

LEXI

I shoved the piece of paper with the address on it in the pocket of my pants and slipped on a comfy pair of ankle-length boots.

Going to the pub? Anastasia asked.

Uh-huh. Sometimes a stiff drink after a job helped relax me. Tonight, I really needed one after she’d practically announced her retirement.

All right. I’m hopping in the shower, then I’m off to bed. Be careful.

Always am. See you tomorrow.

The Crow and Arrow was only a fifteen minute walk. The rain had stopped, but I had to dodge a few puddles along the way. The half-moon, visible between the high rises, floated in the cloudless sky. I couldn’t see my breath, but the air had a chill to it that kept me at a brisk pace.

Two women dressed for attention staggered past, drunk and giggling. They must’ve come from that hoity-toity club around the corner.

A middle-aged man in baggy khakis and one of those flowery Hawaiian shirts stepped out from a shop with a flashing yellow and orange sign that read ‘Pizza’ with a big greasy slice balanced on a paper plate.

Yup, just another regular Saturday night at—I checked the glowing red digits on my watch—one in the morning.

I turned a corner at the next block onto a quieter street. I preferred the smaller pub that’d been around since forever to the flashy, crowded nightclubs. It allowed me to clear my head without being bothered too much, and most of the staff knew me by name.

I pushed open the thick wood door of The Crow and Arrow. I was met with the usual blasting of hard rock on the speakers around the room. The place was half-full, normal for a Saturday night. Both of the pool tables near the back were being used and a dozen people danced in the clearing in the center of the room. There was no live DJ, but that didn’t stop partiers from having fun, including the handful of Goths that were there most of the time.

As I planted myself on one of the stools at the bar, Mick, the usual weekend bartender, nodded at me.

Same as always? he asked, snatching a glass from under the bar.

You know it! I gave him a quick smile and ran my finger over one of the scratches in the polished oak surface while he filled the glass with ice and poured cherry whiskey on top. I accepted the drink and took a sip. Warmth spread down my throat and eased the tension in my muscles.

Mick moved onto his next order, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Anastasia had worked as an assassin since before she’d found me as a baby and taken me from my dying mother’s arms. She’d promised to keep me safe, and she had. I grew up learning how to fight because of her, and as soon as she’d deemed me old enough,