A Bitten Curse: A Darkness Bites Paranormal Romance Novel Read online

  A Bitten Curse

  A Darkness Bites Novel

  Nicole Marie

  Dungeon Media Corp.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.

  Copyright © 2017 Dungeon Media Corp.

  All rights reserved.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Nicole Marie

  1

  “I really need a fucking drink.” I kicked an empty beer can that lay on the front step of my shitty walk-up apartment as I headed out for the night.

  The sky was its usual ominous slate grey as I headed out, wandering down the busy streets of Camden Market under the darkening sky. I was lost in my own thoughts as I walked, trying desperately to think of anything but the night that haunted me. The rain drizzled heavily from above, and heavy raindrops fell down my cheek. My hair was soaked and my clothes were dirty, but I didn’t care. All the better, really. No one would bother approaching me in my dire state.

  A horn honked violently in front of me as I stepped onto the road, forcing me quickly back up onto the sidewalk as I let the small car go by. I heard shouting from the other side of the passenger door and the person in the car flipped me off as they drove past. “Sorry,” I muttered to myself after the car had driven away. I glanced down the street to make sure no more cars were coming before I crossed the road.

  Puddles had formed everywhere and my boots were soon soaked, but I hardly even noticed. My feet carried me thoughtlessly forward, down the winding street in the direction of the one place that I felt safe.

  Most of the shops were closed by now, and the late autumn sun had already long set behind dark rain clouds. The streetlights casted a misty orange glow around me as I walked down the rainy streets towards the pub. I stopped at a busy intersection just on the north side of Camden Market and waited for the lights to change. I looked at my reflection in a nearby storefront window, and hardly recognize my own appearance.

  The girl looking back at me was not the person that I once knew. The choppy blond hair, thick black eyeliner and overwhelmingly defeated eyes that stared back at me were foreign. I came to London one year ago as Charlotte Joyce, a fairly high-up member of the paranormal investigations team with the Chicago Police Department. We had tracked a coven from Chicago all the way across the pond, and I had worked undercover for nearly eight months before the incident. I had been young, bright, and eager, but the eyes that looked back at me now were sad and broken.

  I was snapped out of my daze by another honk of a nearby car, and turned to see an exasperated-looking driver waving me across. I waved my thanks and proceeded to walk across the street, willing myself to think of anything other than the person I used to be. My name now was Charlie Rose and I lived in Camden. I repeated those words in my head as I walked towards the pub.

  I didn’t mind living in Camden, for the most part. The people were diverse and the shops were interesting. I was surrounded by eager young CEOs of various startups, goths and punks, students, and tourists at any given time. It was a circus on the streets and a great place to hide.

  My hand unconsciously rose to my neck as I walked, my fingers tracing the two small scars just below my jawline. It had become a habit that I didn’t even notice I did anymore, and I was totally lost in my thoughts as my fingers traced around the two puncture wounds from the vampire that had marked me against my will.

  My heart pounded against my ribs and the familiar chatter at the back of my mind grew louder. My hand went into my pocket and clutched the bundle of sage that I kept near me at all times as I focused my mind away from the chatter and towards my muddy feet. One foot in front of the other.

  I didn’t change into a vampire when I was bitten, and I have no idea why.

  It has been two months since it happened, and I was still in hiding. I have no idea how I survived, let alone how I showed up safe in my own bed after it had happened, but I was grateful to be alive and determined to stay that way. The first thing I did when I woke up after the incident was look up every paranormal cure for vampire bites that I could possibly find. The one thing that consistently came up in all my searches was sage. It was meant to block your connection to any paranormal being.

  I couldn’t tell you how well it worked, but I wasn’t willing to risk not having it on me at all times. Ever since the bite, the mental connection that had been forged between us now grew stronger every day. There was this strange mental string that pulled me towards him, a desperate need that I felt in the pit of my stomach, and a longing to be with him. I knew none of it was real, but it was hard to escape when it was in your own mind. Fuck, he made me angry.

  The idea of him always being in my head made me feel sick, as I knew it was only a result of the magic from his bite. I crushed the sage in the palm as I walked, determined to block out the mindless chatter that echoed in my head that belonged to the head vampire of the largest and most dangerous coven in England.

  When I let my guard down, I could hear him call to me and I knew I had to do everything I could to protect myself. To hide. I knew that if I let the call pull me towards him, then that would be the end of my life as I knew it. I barely escaped to begin with, and I was determined to preserve what little life I still had. No matter how shitty and pathetic it may be now.

  We had finally found and broken into the local vampire coven; myself and my team of five detectives, after a long eight-month undercover investigation. We had them surrounded, and between our team’s stakes, silver bullets, crosses, and all the typical ridiculous shit you see on television and read about in books, we had won the standoff. That was until I let my guard down and the leader of their coven swooped in on me and clamped his sharp fangs on my neck.

  The rest of the takedown was a complete blur, and all I remember is waking up alone in my apartment a few days later, shivering and near death. The rest of my five-man team had disappeared, and there was an ongoing investigation back at the Bureau as to their disappearance. They were presumed dead, but I hoped that they at least still had people searching for them. Part of the reason I stayed was so that I could find them myself. At least, that’s what I told myself at night.

  For now I was stuck in London alone, disguised as someone I hardly knew, determined to stay as far away from the whole thing as I possibly could. None of my ex-colleagues back in Chicago knew where I was or who I was, and it was the only way I could stay safe. And to remain amongst the living.

  I tried leaving the city, of course. Many times. But the farther I went from heart of London, the harder it was to remember my intentions. I made it all the way to Dover once, hoping to board a train to France, and was about to go when my mind went blank and I couldn’t remember where I was going anymore. I realized pretty quick that t
he farther I got from the vampire I was linked to, the less control of my mind I had. It was a good thing I didn’t get on a plane.

  As a result of the shitty mental link we share, I was stuck here in rainy, dreary London, with no friends, no life, and no prospects. I spent my days lurking in the shadows, staying away from as many people as I possibly could, and drinking myself unconscious.

  I picked up the hobby of drinking over the past few months as I discovered the more I drank, the less I noticed the mental connection to the vampire. The alcohol would numb my mind, and it was a welcome escape from the constant tug that I felt towards him. Alcohol numbed my awareness of him, and for that I was eternally grateful. Whiskey had become my best friend.

  It may not be great for my body, but the result was amazing on my mind. It was a challenge, at first. His nagging and anger grew loud in my mind every time I began to drink. But after a few, it always subsided. He didn’t like that I drank, and I liked that he didn’t like it. It simply propelled me to drink more, and the result was pure bliss.

  I suspected the drinking also helped me stay hidden from him. I was pretty sure that wandering the streets aimlessly at night, hammered beyond control, confused him just as much as it confused me. If I couldn’t find my own way home, then he had no hope of finding it either. It made the idea of waking up hungover in a back alley that much more appealing.

  My plan seemed to work too, as not one vampire had come seeking me out since I escaped that night. I was still alive and I thanked the whiskey for it.

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  I jumped back in shock at the voice. Placing my hand over my heart, I managed to catch my breath after a moment of panic. “Oh, hey Joe.” I smiled up at Joe, the large bouncer at the O’Riley, a great little pub just on the other side of the market. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I had no idea I’d already arrived at my destination.

  “Here for a drink?” He looked amused, but didn’t comment on my dire state of un-keep.

  I nodded and looked around me at the rundown pub, and paused before going in. The sign above the door was cracked and hanging from one hinge, and the paint peeled around the large wooden door frame. What surprised me, though, was the long line of people outside the door. In my two months of frequenting the pub nearly every night, I had never seen a line up outside. It was early on a Monday night, and the O’Riley wasn’t exactly a local hotspot. That was one of the reasons why I liked it so much. “What’s with the line, Joe?”

  Joe laughed and shook his head. “Rumors of some dumb shifter group spread that they were going to come drinking here after some gang meeting tonight. Or some shit like that,” he said, rubbing his neck as he so often did when he was bored. He then shrugged, “I figure I might as well keep the groupies out for now to let the locals enjoy a few drinks before the carnage begins.”

  I was grateful for that news. “So you don’t mind if I go in for a quick drink, then?” I gave him my most innocent eyes and the most dashing smile, and then he rolled his eyes and motioned for me to go into the door.

  “Just don’t stay long. Don’t want you getting mixed up in the inevitable shit storm that will happen when they arrive.”

  “Thanks, Joe.” I chuckled and patted him on the arm as I walked through the large doorframe and into the dark, dusty pub.

  The pub had become my happy place, as it was usually fairly quiet and no one disturbed me when I drank. A large, polished mahogany bar ran along the backside of the room, and the patrons were mostly old men and passing business people who came in for a quick pint and left without so much as a glance. The risk of conversation was low, which suited me perfectly. I wasn’t much for talking these days.

  I took my normal seat at the bar and smiled at Jessie, the evening bartender who minded the bar on weekdays. She came over and smiled at me and asked me if I wanted my usual. I nodded, entering the song and dance we had mastered these past two months.

  I strummed my fingers over the hard surface of the bar as I waited for her to bring me a large pint of bitter. It wasn’t something I’d ever drink back home, as I was more of a martini girl in Chicago. Well, Charlie was a martini girl. I decided after moving permanently to London that I would get used to the local customs. So, Charlie was a bitter girl.

  Jesse slid the frosty mug towards me and I quickly took a deep sip. I then let out a loud sigh in sheer bliss, happy to finally be out of my shitty one-room apartment. I sat alone for a while, drinking my beer, tracing the lines and cracks in the mahogany bar top with my fingers to pass the time. The usual nagging in my mind that happened every time I began drinking grew loud, but it subsided somewhat when I chugged down the rest of the pint. Jessie didn’t have to ask, she just poured me a second and slid it to me down the bar.

  “And a shot of whiskey, if you have it,” I spoke up. I was feeling particularly irritated that day for some reason. I needed to do as much mind numbing as I could possibly manage. Jessie smirked and poured a shot of whiskey for myself and one for her. We both clinked glasses and slammed the shots back. I chased it with my beer, and smiled back at her.

  “Taste’s just like Mom used to make,” she winked.

  A wouldn’t necessarily call Jessie my friend, but she was the closest to it that I had in the city. Our friendship consisted of her pouring drinks and me drinking them, but it was the best relationship I could hope for.

  I sat in silence as a drank my beer, staring off into space and letting my mind wander. I had to be careful when I was lost in my thoughts as often my mind would wander back to that dark night of the incident. My mind began to go there, and I shook my head and pulled myself back to reality before it went too far.

  “Hello?”

  I jumped in my seat in response to the man I hadn’t notice take the stool next to me. He raised an eyebrow at me and looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to say something.

  I was confused and took another sip of my beer as I looked back at him with mild annoyance. “Can I help you with something?”

  The man laughed and leaned against the bar. “I asked how you were doing.”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear you.” I took another sip my beer and eyed him.

  When I didn’t say anything further, he leaned in closer and asked, “So, good then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine, thanks. Just been here winding down after a long day. Enjoying the peace and quiet.” I took another sip of my beer as I gave him my best go away expression. “Alone,” I added when he didn’t seem to relent. I turned back to my beer and ignored him, hoping that he would get the hint.

  He didn’t. “So, you’re here by yourself?” He placed his elbow on the bar and rested his chin in his hand as he watched me.

  I sighed loudly and turned to look at him. “Yes. Look, I’m here alone because I want to be. I’m hoping for some peace and quiet. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit and drink my beer...alone.”

  The man raised his hands in the air in surrender and then accepted his drink from Jessie as she walked past. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you. I just saw you sitting here alone and thought you might want some company.”

  I realized then he wasn’t going to leave. I sighed and then did my best to offer him a forced smile. “I appreciate it. I really do. But, I don’t mind being alone. Really.”

  “Well, no sense being alone if you don’t have to be.” An incredibly handsome smile spread across his face and he took another sip of his drink as he settled back into the seat next to me. Despite my irritation, I found it hard to look away.

  “My name is James.” He exuded confidence, a trait I wasn’t sure I admired or despised.

  I took notice that he didn’t ask for mine, but simply sat there expectantly, waiting for me to answer back.

  I gave him a weak smile and nodded before taking another sip of my beer. After a few moments, I finally gave in. “Charlie.”

  He extended his hand to me, and I accepted it. He had a strong handsha
ke, and he held my hand in his just a few seconds longer than what felt initially comfortable with a stranger. I pulled my hand back and held my cold beer with both hands. He smiled at me and his eyes sparkled with the multi-colored lights above the bar.

  The pub smelled hot and sticky from the stale beer and the endless bodies that began to constantly move through. A large, noisy fan sat in the far corner that helped keep the place cool, and as it turned towards the bar James’s scent blew over me.

  My mind flashed open again, the link with the vampire strengthened as it flared to life. I inhaled sharply in response and braced myself on the bar. I heard a loud roar and I knew I had upset him somehow. Once the initial shock wore off, I couldn’t help but smile. Good, any opportunity to piss him off was one win for me. James looked concerned, but didn’t say anything. When he didn’t look away I simply shrugged and took another sip of my beer. “Just a little bit of vertigo.”

  I took a moment to think of what possibly could have set him off, and then I smelled it again. The scent of a wolf.

  My senses had heightened dramatically since the bite. As much as I tried to deny it, I had taken on certain enhanced abilities that I was still learning to get used to. My sense of smell, for example, was far more acute. I could tell people’s emotions and other all-too personal details from their scent. It was one of the new things I had adopted that took the longest to get used to, and one of the main reasons I didn’t like being around people. This guy, James, though. He smelled…wild.

  That was when I noticed his eyes. His eyes glowed this strange deep forest green color with flecks of vibrant yellow. They were mesmerizing. He raised his eyebrow and grinned at me after I had been staring at him for a few long moments. “Like what you see?” He waited for me to answer, and I took my time to look him up and down, not bothering hiding the fact that I was checking him out.