Sweet Nectar Read online

  Sweet Nectar

  By

  Mackenzie Raye

  Love is like playing the piano. First you must learn to play by the rules, then you must forget the rules and play from your heart.

  Author unknown

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. None of this publication, whole or parts, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including but not limited to: graphic, electronic, or mechanical; including photocopying, taping, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without authorization of the publisher in writing.

  Copyright 2017 © Mackenzie Raye

  All rights reserved

  Acknowledgements

  I would love to thank all my family, friends, readers, and overall supporters. With that said there are a few I’d like to take time and mention. None of this could be possible without the support of my dad, Tom; my son, Spenser; and my grandma, Louise. They are my biggest supporters. Thank you, Amanda Wimer for yet again helping me get through this book as an editor. Nicole Donovan, she is the reason this book pushed forward and the everyday whip cracker. I love you all!

  Chapter One

  Divana

  The full moon beamed the rays of light down onto the narrow pig path from the local bar to my house. Any normal person wouldn’t know it even existed. Considering my neighbors were just like me, they knew the path like I did, but the asshole I’d been seeing for the last week didn’t know. All I had to do was make it a few hundred feet and veer to the left in order to get away from him.

  How stupid can one person be? I believed his cheesy pick-up lines about how sexy I was in red. The last time I wore red, blood stains were left on my hands. Someone tried to break into my grandma’s house, thinking no one was home after her sudden death. Boy, were they wrong. I’d downed a whole bottle containing wolf’s bane potion. Full moons brought out the wolf in everyone, but I took it to another level. The man wanting to raid my grandma’s jewelry box got a few extra piercings in places he’d wished I would touch in human form. I will never forget the taste of his blood. It clumped up into balls instead of being silky smooth.

  “I am coming to get you, you little witch,” a man yelled out.

  The curve in the path came up, and I darted to the right. From the foul smell being carried by the light breeze, the witch hunter was sweating from the chase. Alcohol poured out of his skin along with a curry aroma. It dawned on me why he played with my mind; he was of Middle Eastern decent. Rumor had it someone in the high anarchy of the region needed a powerful white witch to be sacrificed on the Strawberry moon, allowing black witches to gain stronger powers. I’d been hiding the fact I was more than just a white witch. But how and what did they know?

  As clouds rolled in covering the moon, I jumped behind a tree listening for any sounds. The wolves were near, but their transformation needed the moonlight. With them semi-paralyzed, I knew the only other person moving about was the man hunting me. Silence rang out, and I prayed he hunkered down in the darkness. A growl came from my right. My body quaked until my ass slid down the tree in fear. Orange eyes appeared to my left. God, I hoped the wolf’s bane and its effect on my pheromones had worn off by now.

  As a nude male approached me, my first impression was, why can’t I take him home and have my way with him? He lifted me up to a standing position while his sweaty body touched me.

  “Get off me, you fucking wolf,” I uttered. My fist pounded against his chest.

  “Hold still, witch. My scent will hide your brimstone smell and kill his way of tracking you. I want nothing to do with you other than to help. When I tell you, run home and stay indoors. One of my men will knock on your door three times to let you know all is safe. Until then, stay indoors,” he whispered into my ear. His heavy, warm breath fell onto my neck. How could a dog smell so good?

  “Why help me?”

  “We need witches like you to remain. Wolves and witches haven’t got along in the past, but now we have a common enemy in the vampires. We must work together in order for us and the next generation to survive. Working together is a must. Now, run like hell.” He let me go, phased into a black wolf, and disappeared into the brush.

  I pushed off the tree and took off in a full sprint. My legs couldn’t move fast enough. Tree branches broke, halting me midstride. Red eyes looked down upon me. An aroma of human blood filled the air. The thing in the tree eyeing me was a vampire. Just on the other side of the vampire, around the tree, stood my door. A hop, skip, and jump, right? A howl rang out behind me causing me to jump forward. Dog breath overpowered the smell of human blood.

  A blur flew over my head. The vampire by passed me for the wolf. I ran. Two feet from my front door, and I was going to make it. My toe caught on something huge. Tumbling down to the ground, I landed on something soft and warm. It moved ever so slightly.

  I jumped off and covered my mouth so I didn’t scream and alert the hunter to my whereabouts. This man reeked of blood. Without knowing it, I’d interrupted feeding time for the vampire. Shit, I needed to get him into the house. Nudging him hard, I tried to get him awake enough to crawl to my door. Not knowing how long the smell of wolf would cover my witch’s scent or how long the wolf could hold off the vampire, I rolled the body down the gulley to my front door.

  The poor man’s body hit the tree with a thump. My doorway is hidden in a tree and doesn’t look like a door at all. Once his body stopped rocking, I opened the door and dragged him into my living space. After one strike of a match, I lit several candles and said a few chants to protect the house. Blood trickled out of two small puncture holes in his neck. “Shit, shit, shit. This cannot be happening.” I wiped my face with the palm of my hand which felt clammy.

  Pacing a circle around the dying man’s body, I contemplated the pros and cons of saving his life. If left, the vampire’s venom would poison the man and kill him by absorbing the water from his organs, skin, and bones.

  If I give him my blood, I save his life. However, my blood is like being on cocaine to a vampire. Massive highs are given at the point of waking up along with a massive low called a hangover headache, and then there are bouts of needing more of my blood to control violent impulses. Then again, he will be connected to me unless…Yes that is it. I will make a memory block. Once he is strong enough, I will take him to Ambrose.

  I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a paring knife. The small, black-handled stainless steel blade was petite but sharp. Never before had I have ever wanted to cut myself. My stomach flipped and flopped creating the butterfly effect due to my nervousness. I knelt beside him. A five-o’clock shadow pricked my arms as I tried to lift his head. Men needed to learn not all women found beards attractive. This one sure impressed someone. I highly doubted the one he attracted was the one he went after; however, vampires aren’t picky when it comes to sucking the life out of someone.

  Deciding not to perform the transferring of my blood to him in the living room, I hustled down the hall to the spare bedroom. I flipped on the light, placed the knife on the nightstand, pulled out the candles, and lit them. Sweet jasmine filled the room. A four-post bed in the size of California king was a rare find, and I had one. Never had I thought of saving a human soon to be a vampire much less doing it in my own house. Focus, I needed to focus. The thought of allowing any creature to die without me trying to save it was crazy. Everyone deserved a chance at life.

  I raced back to the man on the verge of death laying in the middle of the room. His body sprawled out on my floor would tell me a story if I listened. Labored breathing. Bloodied clothes? Before I offered my blood to this man, I had to in
vestigate his body for other potential injuries. No need to give him blood if he was going to bleed out somewhere else. My palms began to sweat due to the fact I didn’t have much experience around men.

  A huge blood stain ruined his flannel shirt. I wondered if he’d been stabbed by the vampire in order to weaken him into submission. In the past few months, a rash of bitten human bodies had been found stabbed in the chest area. The stain on the man lying at my feet mimicked those of others killed lately. I dropped down to my knees and stripped him of his clothing.

  His well-chiseled abdomen before me caused shivers to run the length of my body. My hands, with a mind of their own, rubbed up and down his chest area; not that I complained about touching him. I told myself I was feeling for any open wounds. A lie, but one I had to tell myself in order to keep from feeling like a groping, desperate female. Visibly there was nothing, but that didn’t stop me from feeling my way up and down his body several more times. With him as buff as he was, I needed help in getting him up and into bed. There was no way I was going to be able to drag him down my hallway, for I had struggled to move him from outside the house to inside. I needed a strength potion.

  Making my way throughout the house, I gathered up all the herbs and spices needed to cook up a liquid potion. Once in the kitchen, I started a fire and placed my small cauldron on the hook above the flames. I filled it with a new vitamin water from the small country grocery store. Ambrose had given me a six-pack of Blood-O-Rita from his brewery and told me it contained a special breed of vampire blood along with some synthetic blends in hopes of keeping the killing of humans to a bare minimum. I dumped one of the six-pack cans into the water and brought it to a boil. Next to join the cocktail was a strand of wolf’s bane. The gross smell gagged me until I tasted bile from yesterday’s meal.

  I chopped several mint leaves along with a garlic clove to help with the smell. After about ten minutes of cooking, the concoction smelled more like a drinkable substance than before. I chanted, “Strength from those with special abilities separate from the material items. Strength from the vampire blood mix with the water and bond to my blood without extra abilities. Strength from the wolf’s hair withdraw from the hair and combine with the water I am to drink. Upon my last ingredient, you shall join together as one.” With a pinch of my specialty spice dropped into the boiling juice, a small explosion happened. Bang. A purple smoke rose up and changed to a gorgeous midnight blue. The flame died underneath. The time came to drink all-liquid potion. Timing was essential to getting the right amount of strength needed to get going. Being a self-taught nurse, I used clean syringes and pulled out three-eighths of a cup. I placed the needless syringe in my mouth and forced the concoction out onto my tongue and down my throat.

  The remainder of the potion was poured into bottles. I placed three full bottles in my mobile crates. Knowing the potion would fetch me twenty-five dollars per ounce, I decided to drop it off at the local pharmacy on my way out of town from dropping the newbie vampire off at Ambrose’s. My grandma would have killed me for selling potions to humans but hey, they needed to defend themselves from the enemy just as much as I did. A thud scared me. The empty cauldron shook.

  Once the room stopped shaking, I raced to the living room to check on the nearly nude man lying on the floor. His perfect body remained sprawled out on the bear rug in front of the fireplace. Oh, how I wished there was another reason for him to be naked on that rug with a fire going. The thought of acting out my biggest fantasy sent embers to my sexual core.

  While standing there staring, I noticed something odd happening around the puncture marks. Blackened marks protruded from the point of entry. A foul smell of rotting flesh penetrated my nostrils. Not knowing what was happening, nor how to stop it, I rushed to the landline phone and dialed up Ambrose.

  “Thanks for calling PALE, how may I help you?” a female answered the phone; more than likely it was the head bartender Misha.

  “Is Ambrose around?”

  “Sure. Can I tell him who is calling?”

  “Divana Brew.” I answered her.

  “The witch?” the female on the other end asked with a snarky tone in her voice.

  “Sure, what is wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. Hold on.” She placed me on hold and a horrible goth-style music played.

  “Hello, Ambrose here.”

  “Hey Ambrose. I have a question for you,” I uttered a hello to him.

  “Shoot, girlie. I don’t have much time. You know you are welcome in my bar,” he added.

  “Thanks, but that isn’t my question. I have a man who has been apparently bitten by a vampire. Two perfect puncture wounds line the side of his neck. The only problem is the vampire took off after a werewolf. He appeared to be a man with glowing red eyes. I pulled the victim in my house with me. Black marks are popping up around the wounds,” I explained. “Holy shit balls, the black is streaking down his neck.”

  “A new breed of hybrid vampires has moved into the area. Their fangs are laced with a poison.”

  I gasped at his words.

  “The only way to save him is to feed him blood from a good being; human or animal. Do not give him your blood unless it is an emergency. Your blood is like Ecstasy. When he comes too he will act like a horny guy on Viagra with his sites on you like you are a model.”

  “Ambrose, how long until I have to feed him? A witch hunter is after me. I was in his crosshairs when a werewolf showed up. The vampire came about within mere seconds of the wolf’s transformation. Unless there is no other choice, I am not leaving the safety of my house,” I explained.

  “Shit, are the Aimes brothers at it again? When are them damn boys going to learn?”

  “They aren’t. I get why they are upset, but killing all off isn’t going to stop the killings going forward. If it’s not a vampire killing a human, it’s a wolf. Hell, humans are killing humans. Watching the news from the national city, it looks like they kill each other over petty shit.”

  “Stupid humans. To be fair to the Aimes boys, someone is paying them to kill different supernatural beings.”

  “Ambrose, what if I feed him and do what I have to do to satisfying him the next morning then feed him a memory block to erase or hide the need for my blood. Come on, we know it is addictive and more like cocaine in that regard.”

  “We can try it, Divana. Are you going to bring him to me to train?”

  “If you don’t mind,” I pondered.

  “No. I understand you are trying to keep this man from dying under your watch. You were always a special witch. If there is anything I can do to help you throw off the hunter, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Ambrose. I will see you tomorrow once I get strength and know he is capable of walking into the club.”

  “Bye, kiddo. If you need me, call me. I will leave Braelynn in charge and come running.”

  “Later.” I hung up the phone, wondering if I was doing the right thing. A monster, not a vampire, a monster stole my family from me. One of those nasty creatures bit the man before me, ending his life as he knew it. Immortality sounded great, and some humans desired it more than anything else. After placing the phone back on the charging dock, I prepared the spare room with the things I needed to feed the newbie. A first aid kit sat near the knife on the nightstand for wrapping my wounds up after he got fed.

  A cracking sound scared me. I raced to the window to find the source of the sound. The huge, dead oak tree had finally snapped in half and tumbled down. My house dodged a bullet with the way it fell. With a feeling of someone watching me, I blew out every other candle to make the room darker. Deep within my soul I hoped my mind played tricks on me and no one peeped into my windows. My mind shifted back to the man in my living room and all the things I had to do to save his life.

  I sprinted out to the living room. Black streaks ran down his right arm. The poison had spread from his neck to his right extremities. A huge clump appeared like a bruise on his chest. Fear of not being able to save
him fell upon me, forcing bad thoughts to enter my head and tears to dam up in my eyes. I knew what I had to do. Candle fire danced back and forth on the top of the wax and released the warming scent of the ocean.

  Needles scared me. I drowned my fears and raced to the kitchen. In one swift move, I injected myself with the strength potion. My pulse raced. A cool sensation spread out like a wild fire in California’s wilderness after a yearlong drought. Once the coolness wore off I felt nothing. Nothing. How was I supposed to know if it worked? The only thing I knew to do was to push my arms out straight on the bar I’d been leaning on. Much to my surprise, the island moved back. Where it had been anchored to the floor, holes exposed the crawlspace below.

  Without losing any time, I raced to the living room and picked up the sexy, muscular man off the living room floor. Wow, he was heavier than I imagined. My mathematical calculations sucked. Damn it. I should have paid more attention in Algebra class. Never in a million years would I have dreamt needing to calculate the exact weight of a man to carry to my spare bed. The blackness consumed most of his arm and shoulder area. We entered the bedroom with me turning sideways allowing his feet to enter first.

  I placed him down on the left side of the California king and stripped him of his jeans. The man went commando. My stare landed on his manhood. Out of pure habit, I licked my lips in response. A different sensation of power fluttered through my body. To keep from jumping his bones, I walked around the bed and grabbed up the knife. Now that I had made him comfortable, I thought it was best to strip out of my slacks. My tee-shirt would do along with the bikini underwear I wore. Knowing what I needed to do, I crawled on the bed beside him.

  Divana, this is the right thing to do. You must save him from death. Wonder why these new crossbreeds of vampires used the blackness as a symbol of their bites?

  My mind raced. I held up my right arm, placed the knife on my wrist, and closed my eyes. Small prickles of pain radiated out when I applied pressure. Warm liquid poured out of the new cuts. A droplet of red splattered on my thigh. Mini streams rolled down skin and onto the sheets. Leaning over him, I placed my arm above his mouth. Another droplet fell but this time it landed on his lips. With my other hand, I opened his mouth. Drop. Drop. Drop. The blood went in but at a slow pace.