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Bulletproof Damsel Page 2
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Nyx was a nymph. She fed on men, and she enjoyed it to no ends. Her snappy comments and flippant attitude had made me laugh and feel accepted the moment I’d met her snarky ass.
“Ma’am, your bag will not fit in the overhead compartment, we will need to check it,” the flight attendant was arguing.
“Fine, but you may need to service me mid-flight. I get famished on long flights,” Nyx murmured huskily.
“It’s an hour-long flight, and refreshments are provided, ma’am. Please take your seat.”
“Stop moving your hips, Nyx,” I grunted, knowing she’d be doing that to make sure the flight attendant got her meaning on the word service.
“He’s hot,” she said, making purring noises at the poor man. “Anywho, your mom’s missing, foul play is afoot, and you’re standing in a hotel without any protection, where there could be Van Helsings close enough to sniff out your unused vagina. Does that about sum up what I am walking into?”
“My vagina is not unused.” I pulled an arrow from my bag, and ran my finger over the tip, placing the call on speakerphone while loading my quiver with Silversmith arrows. “I had sex five months ago, and unlike you, my life doesn’t depend on me getting laid.”
“Scientists have proven that orgasms reduce stress and are actually good for you.” The line went silent for a moment before she spoke again. “I’m sorry about your mom, Remi,” she said softly, causing my heart to clench and my stomach to churn.
“Thanks, but let’s not bury her just yet.” I carefully pushed the arrow into the quiver and then grimaced as it made a soft noise while joining the others.
“What are you doing?” she countered, and I scrunched my face up. “Tell me you’re not going hunting without backup. Remington Silversmith, don’t you even think about it!”
“I’m just going to take a peek at the bar,” I snorted. “There’s a sanctuary here, which means there’s a Van Helsing. I’d rather find him before he finds me. You and I both know that it’s better I learn my enemy rather than give him time to learn me. There’s also the fact that it’s been two hundred and ninety years since the bloodlines went to war. How long can a feud last? Besides, maybe if I find him, he can tell me what my family has kept from me. Lord knows your version of the truth wasn’t accurate. I’m pretty sure your version was more porn than facts, and well, I don’t think they started fighting over pussy.”
“My version wasn’t wrong. It started because the Van Helsings and Silversmiths were born to mate, and trust me; you don’t want to find him before he finds you. Not without backup, Remi. The Van Helsings are cursed incubi and therein lays the huge difference between them and normal incubi. You were literally two peas in a gun-slinging pod, once upon a time. You are the silver to their bullets, the wings to their planes. If he senses you near him, he will either hump the hell out of you or try to murder you.”
“It’s been almost three-hundred years, Nyx. How long can a curse stay that prominent? Besides, he could have my mother. What if the curse is in play, and he’s humping my mother?”
“Then… go, momma, go! Not you, though. I need you.”
“It’s my mother, Nyx. I am not close to my brothers and sisters, but my mom? She knows me, and she gets me. She’s my person.”
“I thought I was your person.”
“You are my person, but so is she. She spent thirteen hours bringing me into this world. Can you say the same?” I slipped my quiver over my back and grabbed the crossbow from the bed.
“Do you want to be in my vagina?” she asked curiously.
“No! What? No, Nyx. Not the point! I’m going. If I’m not back by the time you get here, send out the big guns. We all know that E.V.I.E. only breaks the rules if one of our own goes missing. I’m heading to Hunter’s Sanctuary for recon, and yes, I’ll be careful.”
“My flight is taking off, and you better be. I’ll be there in an hour. I’ve already hacked your email and figured out where you’re staying.”
“Why would you hack my email? You could have just asked me where I was staying.”
“What is the fun in just asking?” she snorted. “Yeah, I know. I’m hanging up,” she promised a man. “The flight attendants are obtuse. I’ll call you when I get feet on the ground. You better not die.”
“See you soon.” I ended the call before muting my phone and slipping it into my pocket.
I glanced in the mirror, staring at my reflection with a slight wince. I looked exhausted and in need of a good six hours of sleep. Pulling up the dark hood, I slipped from the room and started toward the sanctuary that was a mere few miles from the hotel. It took me almost two hours of searching, and moving around the city outskirts to become familiar with the area. Once I had scouted five escape routes out, I’d finally started toward the bar.
I hadn’t been aware that there was even a sanctuary bar within twenty minutes from the hotel. I’d booked it for five days, intending to have a place to escape my mother’s endless whining about my life choices. All of which were great disappointments to her. Or, my favorite, her threats about coming to bring me home, which was why I’d waited a while before ever telling her where I was.
Winnie was a millionaire, selling silver jewelry she weaved with her metal skills and magic. The others all had some ability to create beautiful things with silver. I made bullets and weapons. I didn’t create beautiful trinkets or hold the ability to use magic to peddle my potions or salves as mom did. My other siblings had backup plans to make a lucrative living. Me? I made weapons that were frowned upon when hiding the fact that we were witches born with the ability to craft silver.
Slipping through the edge of town, I listened as a scream ripped through the night. My heart stopped, restarting with a thundering beat. I gave up hiding, rushing toward the sound. At the edge of a large, dark parking lot, men had gathered and were physically fighting. They were blurs, moving faster than I could follow, forcing me to calm my rapidly beating heart rate.
The moment it slowed, I took in the carnage from the immortals fighting against one another. My eyes followed the tallest male, watching his moves. He swung dual-edged blades around swiftly, effortlessly wielding them. He moved like it was a dance he knew by heart. He was skilled with blades, highly trained in weapons, judging by the swift swings that removed heads, sending them rolling across the pavement with ease.
I observed them for a while, and it wasn’t until Silversmith blood called to me that my head turned, watching a lone female move onto the scene. I swallowed down the urge to go to her. It was a struggle to ignore the heady siren’s call of blood beckoning me toward where she stood. She pushed her hood away from her head, and I paused. Cocking my head to the side, I gazed at her with no recognition of who she was other than we shared magical blood ties. It wasn’t my mother, as I’d hoped.
The woman’s hand lifted, and I watched her beckoning silver to her, smiling coldly as she pulled more power into her missiles. Silently, I nocked a single arrow, before aiming it at her. Vampires lay bleeding or dying on the ground as a cold-looking male appeared beside her, grinning at the other men’s worried expressions. Smoothing his hand down the woman’s back, I noted the glimmer of the ring he wore, recognizing the Van Helsing insignia.
Realizing that a Silversmith witch was helping a Van Helsing, I pushed off my hood and redirected my aim. Exhaling, I released the arrow the moment she let loose her bullets for a direct kill shot. The arrow sailed through the air, slamming into the line of ammunition, moving faster than immortals could see. She gasped, and I smirked, noting her wide-eyed look of horror at missing.
Slowly, I reached behind for another arrow, nocking it before moving to stand beside the opposing men, all of whom watched me through narrow-eyed stares.
“Cease, and stand down,” I ordered, staring at the silver-haired woman. “On the order of those who hold authority over you, stand down now.”
She had fake silver hair, I realized, dyed to fit her role.
She wasn’t full-
blooded, which meant silver hair wouldn’t come naturally for her until she was old enough to have it from aging. All but one of our direct bloodline had silver hair, and that was my awkward ass.
“You don’t order me around, sweetheart,” she hissed vehemently.
“I won’t ask you twice,” I warned.
“Only a Silversmith can give me orders. I have orders to assist the Van Helsing in taking the houses of this region!”
“On whose orders?” I countered.
“I don’t answer to you!”
“Nor I to you,” I smiled cruelly. “I asked you to stand down. If you insist, I will end your life.” Her hands lifted in the air, and I observed as silver magic slithered through her.
Narrowing my gaze, I watched the silver lines etching against her flesh as her power erupted in the parking lot. The man next to her was ancient, that much I could feel from the power he radiated. He had dark hair and tattoos covering his arms from wrist to shoulder, with an upside-down cross beneath his left eye.
“She’s a Silversmith,” the man beside me growled, and I turned, my jaw hitting the ground as he came into sight.
He was wearing a suit and held blades in his hands. Dark, inky hair stuck to his face, covered in sweat from fighting. Azure eyes narrowed on me while my gaze slowly lowered to his chest, which his suit hugged tightly, exposing a long, lean, muscular frame.
Magic exploded toward us, and I turned, lifting my bow that I hadn’t realized I’d lowered while I eye-raped the male beside me. My magic erupted without thought, turning my eyes silver as my veins filled with it, pulling the bullets toward me, absorbing them into my body. The woman’s mouth opened and closed, realizing her mistake too late. My fingers released the string, watching as the arrow shot through her open mouth, shattering her silver until it looked like glass raining down on the ground as she crumbled.
“What the fuck is happening?” someone asked, and I turned toward the Van Helsing that stood across from us, smiling as my silver magic reflected in his eyes.
“Pretty,” he said huskily.
“Did a Silversmith just kill another Silversmith? How are there two in the same town, when a week ago we couldn’t even find one?” the voice asked again.
I ignored the men behind me, watching the Van Helsing as he calculated his chances of reaching me before I could react. I lifted my hands, and he stepped back, feeling the undead closing in around him.
The silent monsters hidden within the shadows preparing to attack finally lunged, and I slipped away from the men next to me, offering them a coy smile. I stepped into the opening of the parking lot to fight. Not that I needed much room, but my silver was faster than normal Silversmith silver. I called the silver bullets that the fallen woman had wielded, using them to create a moving shield around me, smiling cruelly while they pelted into the undead that lunged toward me, unable to see the movement of the bullets with the speed in which they moved.
I stared at the Van Helsing, who watched me, lowering his head with a sinfully wicked smirk on his lips as he continued backing away, turning to vanish into the woods. He’d left his undead warriors to die, and that pissed me off since he’d brought them here to fight on his behalf, abandoning them to my bullets.
Exhaustion hit me without warning, and the bullets dropped to the ground, clinking on the pavement. I yelped out in surprise as a vampire lunged, and my hands lifted. I caught him by the shoulders and held his snapping fangs away from me until something sliced through his neck, severing his head from his shoulders. Turning, I found the men standing in the same place as before, as a singsong voice entered my mind.
Chapter Three
“So, just going to look around, hmm?” Nyx snorted, wiping her blade on a vampire’s clothes, which had turned into a pile of ashes. “Did you find him?” she continued, staring up at me, narrowing her eyes. Her dark head turned, and she moved her attention to the men in front of us.
Warning bells were playing in my head as I took in the tallest male. Sinfully blue eyes smiled as if he sensed how weak I was in my current state. He took a step closer, and my heart thundered against my chest.
“We need to go,” I whispered, turning to run away only to trip over my own feet, landing on my face on the concrete.
“That is an actual blood-heir Silversmith,” he chuckled.
Nyx gripped my arms, pulling me up as we started forward. “You were supposed to be the rescue squad!” I groaned, hating that the curse had come on so fast.
We tripped at the beginning of the woods, and male laughter sounded behind us. At least we weren’t being chased by the Van Helsing. It was a small blessing, but I’d take it as a win.
Nyx pulled me back up to my feet, and we continued through the woods. But it was futile, considering my curse was pretty much a giant ‘fuck you’ from the Van Helsings. Every time a Silversmith wielded their power against anyone, it backfired and made us weak and extremely accident-prone for hours afterward.
I slipped on the top of a hill, catching a branch as I went over an edge. Someone plucked Nyx from the air before she could fall over the ledge with me. I peered up at the male holding my wrist, noting his bedroom eyes smiling down at me like he’d just captured a rare prize. My eyes left his to look down at the jagged rocks below as he pulled me up, bringing my body flush against his, then pinching my chin, angling my face toward him, studying me.
“Silversmith, it seems your curse was activated,” he murmured, turning my face from one side to the other as he examined me. “You don’t look like a Silversmith.” His fingers ran through my hair, pulling a strand against his nose as I frowned.
“You planning to eat me?” I questioned pointedly while he sniffed me.
“Mommy wants some. Shit, I’ll take them all on right now,” Nyx murmured dreamily, causing my head to turn in her direction. I groaned at the look of utter devotion stamped on her face.
“You were supposed to be the rescue squad, bitch,” I grunted, and the male smiled down at me as another took my weapons.
“Hey, I came here right from the airport. I was all for playing Captain Save-A-Hoe! I told you to stay away from the Van Helsing, but no, badass Remi has to go check shit out and find him first. I hope you learned everything about him, down to his penis size!”
“Why would I want to know that?” I muttered, dragging my hand down my face. I turned my attention back to the male hanging on our every word. “Who the hell are you?”
“Rhys. Rhys Van Helsing.”
“Hot damn! Now you can see if the penis and vagina lore is true!” Nyx hooted with excitement.
The blood left my face as he watched me with a cold smile lifting his lips. “And you would be?”
“Toast when Winchester figures this shit out. I’m in so much trouble,” I whined, struggling in his arms as he noted the lack of strength I used to get away.
“Save your fight, pretty girl. You won’t win. Not even at your fullest. You’re young, aren’t you?”
“Why does everyone assume I’m young? What is it? Is there like a stamp on my forehead that says born yesterday,” I snapped and then squeaked when his hand landed on my ass, and my body went flush against his hard, muscular frame.
“Because you still smell of mortality, and that means you’re fragile. Aren’t you?” Rhys chuckled darkly. I swallowed hard, watching his gaze narrow as he leaned closer. “Where are the others?”
“What others?” I snapped.
“You’re a newborn Silversmith. There’s no way you’re out here alone, woman.” He studied my eyes as they narrowed to mirror his while a frown creased my brow. “Bloody hell, you’re on your own. That was stupid and so careless with something so bloody precious and untrained.”
“She’s not on her own! I’m here with her,” Nyx argued, and we both turned, staring at the nymph currently stroking the male closest to her, pretending to dance on his leg, or at least I hoped that was what she was doing. “So, are you going to see if the lore is true?” Her brows wagged
up and down before returning her attention to dancing, which hadn’t been dancing at all. “Ride that Van Helsing! Get that kitty cat some action!”
My eyes locked with Rhys’s once more as I turned to glare at him, and failed horribly. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was gorgeous in an old-world way. There was sheer masculinity to him that most men in this day and age lacked. His hair was messed up from the fight and chase afterward. His scent drew me in with a subtle hint of aftershave that was so faint it almost smelled natural. I leaned closer, inhaling him as a wicked smile curved his lips.
“Damn, Remi, you eye-fuck him any harder, and I’m going to come.”
I pulled back, tossing a glare at her as I shook my head. Rhys lifted me, and I grasped onto him, holding on for dear life. His mouth was close to mine, and I did my best to hold my face away from him like he was contagious with rabies or something.
“Put me down,” I whispered, my panic increasing the moment he started moving. “Put me down, or you’ll break my neck!”
He laughed darkly, as if he found me cute and endearing. He wouldn’t think it was so funny when he ended up with my curse affecting him.
“Do you know how to stop your curse, Remi?” he asked softly, his fingers tightening on my behind, sending a shiver racing up my spine. He smelled like sex on legs, and my body was taking notes, writing things down even as fear hitched up my spine to wrap around my throat.
“Death?” I took a shot in the dark.
“A Van Helsing’s touch,” he informed coolly, the smile curving his lips, sinfully hot. “I counteract the curse when I touch you. After all, we placed it there. It only seems fitting that we’d also be the cure.”
“Death it is, then,” I groaned, trying my best to hold my body away from his, failing miserably.