The Vampire Hunter's Daughter: Complete Collection
Jennifer Malone Wright
ACKNOWEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my good friend Rose for helping with every step during the process of bringing this story into the world. I would also like to thank my editors at Accentuate Author Services for their excellent skills and help. Visit Accentuate Author Services at www.AccentuateServices.com. Michy and Lynn, you are the bomb!
A big thank you goes to Paragraphic Designs for my wonderful cover art for each story. Visit Paragraphic Designs at Paragraphicdesigns.blogspot.com
I also want to give a shout out to all my fellow authors I have met and networked with. All for one and one for all!
And thank you to the fans, without you this series would not exist. You all kept me writing more and more with each installment.
Finally, thank you to my husband, for his continued support and encouragement of my writing. Thank you, Honey. I love you.
THE VAMPIRE HUNTER’S DAUGHTER
PART I
THE BEGINNING
“Chloe!” the voice called out sharply. At that exact moment, the earth shook violently beneath my feet.
“Chloe, wake up!”
The ground swayed and gravity took hold, forcing me to sidestep back and forth. I threw my hands out for balance and tried to catch my footing, but I ended up falling onto my hands and knees. The quaking world was suddenly bathed in harsh sunlight. It had washed over me quickly, blinding me. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes from the glare.
“Chloe Kallistrate, get your ass up now!”
My eyes snapped open. All the lights in my room were on and my mother stood over me. She held my blankets in her arms. I realized she had impatiently whipped them off me. I lay there in only my boy-short underwear and my favorite sleep shirt: a torn and faded but still ultra-comfy Harley Davidson tee-shirt. Sometimes when she said our last name really fast like that, she developed an accent. It was a strange name, pronounced Kal-lih-strah-dee.
The light explained the sunlight in my dream, and Mom must have been shaking me, which would have been the earthquakes. I groaned defiantly and glanced at the clock on my nightstand. The glowing red numbers told me that it was two forty-seven in the morning.
“Mom!” I grabbed my comforter out of her arms and rolled over, taking it with me. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Only then did the heavy fog of sleep lift and I realized exactly that: It was the middle of the night and my mother was in my room desperately trying to get me out of bed. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
I threw my blanket off and jumped out of bed, causing my mother to jump back in surprise.
“What is it? What’s happening?” I demanded.
“You have to hide!” she whispered.
She was still in her pale blue-satin pajamas with the matching robe, and her eyes were wide with fear. Her dark brown hair, which was the same color as mine, hung loose and flowing down her back. She grabbed my arm and dragged me to my closet.
“Quick, get in there.” She looked around the room. “There is nowhere else to go. Now, hide!”
“Mom, stop it! What are you doing?”
Her fingernails dug into my arm. She opened the door and literally threw me inside the closet. She bent down, took my chin in her hand so that our dark eyes would meet.
“I love you,” she told me, and then abruptly slammed the door shut, submerging me into total darkness.
Even though my fourteen-year-old mentality wanted to fight back and open the door, I did as I was told and sat on top of all my shoes that littered the floor of my closet.
Thundering footsteps pounded on the stairs outside my room. I could tell my mom was still in the room because I hadn’t heard the door open and shut. My bedroom door burst open, and my mother immediately yelled, “Get out of here! Now!”
I could just see her pointing her index finger at the door, like when she would tell me to go clean my room or something.
A man’s voice, low and smooth, answered back. “Really, Felicia, you honestly think we are just going to turn around and leave?”
He tsk’d at her like she was merely a child who had gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. This man knew her. He called her by name and spoke to her with familiarity. I was desperate to see what was going on.
“Trevor can’t have her!” my mother screamed at him.
The sarcasm was clear when the man laughed and said, “Well, you should know as well as I do that what Trevor wants Trevor will get.” He paused and then casually added, “He also wants you dead.”
I covered my mouth and stifled the urge to cry out.
What the hell is going on?
He continued to speak when my mother said nothing in return. “You messed up, Felicia. He would have let you live if you had just left and gone on with your life away from us. Instead, you chose to steal what was his. Trevor wants his child back.”
What? My mom stole a child?
That just couldn’t be the truth.
My mother finally answered him, but she did so in a voice that was surprisingly fearless and brave. “Eli, you know he would have never been able to raise her. She is as much mine as she is his. I did not steal her; I saved her.”
Her?
The smooth voice continued as if her words had meant nothing. “Nevertheless, we must carry out our orders. I would tell you I’m sorry, Felicia, but I’m not. I never liked you, and I’m ecstatic I am the one who gets to kill one of the most renowned hunters to walk the Earth.”