Savannah Blood Read online

  SAVANNAH BLOOD

  by

  J.C. JORDAN

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  WORLDWIDE.

  THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS, EXCEPT FOR INCIDENTAL REFERENCES TO PUBLIC FIGURES, PRODUCTS, OR SERVICES, ARE FICTIOUS. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, ACTUAL EVENTS, LOCALES, OR ORGANIZATIONS IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL, AND NOT INTENDED TO REFER TO ANY LIVING PERSON OR TO DISPARAGE ANY COMPANY OR ORGANIZATION, PRODUCTS OR SERVICES.

  NO PART OF THIS TEXT MAY BE REPRODUCTED, TRANSMITTED, DOWNLOADED, DECOMPILED, UPLOADED OR STORED IN OR INTRODUCTED INTO ANY INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, WHETHER ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, NOW KNOWN OR HEREAFTER DEVISED, WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR EXCEPT FOR THE USE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS IN A BOOK REVIEW.

  Savannah, Georgia is a beautiful place with incredible history. In this instance I've taken incredible liberty with the area including topography.

  The police department in this city I'm certain do a wonderful job and I've taken considerable liberty including from their hierarchy and behavior.

  Nothing in this book should be taken seriously. It is a work of pure fiction along with the location. Although the location is based on a real place it is not indicative of the actual city.

  Thank you and enjoy.

  Terms of the Supernatural World

  Council of Supernaturals – Governs all Supernaturals .

  Demons – Haven’t been seen on Earth for millennium. Leave a stench of sulfur in their wake. Not much known about them.

  Fairy – the home of the Fae. Including both Light and Dark Fae. Light and Dark do not delineate their good or evil concepts. Morality is not quite like humans. The Fae come in many sizes and types, along with species. The High Fae are almost always tall, very slender, very strong and possess strong magick.

  High Counsel – Head of the Council of Supernaturals.

  Magick – Possessed by most Supernaturals but most cannot actually cast spells.

  Pixies – Small, 3-5 inches, some serve the Council of Supernaturals. Translucent wings. Used to live in Fairy but now most stay in the human world.

  The Reveal – (or Great Reveal) Coming Out of the Supernaturals, exposing themselves to the world.

  Shifter – Very rare but can ‘shift’ into any animal form they wish. Born, not made.

  Sups – Supernaturals

  Vampyre – Drink blood to survive. Can eat other foods. Depending on age can survive sun. The older the stronger. Are not dead but living. Born, but can be infectious.

  Were – Their magick allows them to change from a human form to animal. Were’s possess only one type of animal form. Some possess both full animal form and a form that is half animal and half human.

  CHAPTER 1

  The music blares in Maggie’s ears but she keeps the smile plastered to her face. She knows the killer they have been looking for is scoping out his victims at nightclubs. Blue Moon just happens to be the newest, hence hottest club this year. She has to admit it is huge. Three bars, one on the west, one on the east wall of the building on the first floor. One in the VIP lounge on the second, to keep the waiting lines down, stocks a higher quality liquor. Still, you’ll wait twenty minutes to get close enough to order a drink.

  Taking surreptitious looks around Maggie recognizes the amount of work to convert the old warehouse space into a posh club. Dance floor on the ground level with balconies on a second and third level that look over all the peons below. The theme is more Buffy than Goth but there are more than enough people dressed from head to toe in black with black eyeliner and black fingernail polish to go around. The private rooms on the second and third tier are an entirely different venture, and she has no desire to find out what goes on in there. She isn’t here as a cop, not on duty anyway. She is just hoping to get a clue, a lead, maybe see something that might help the three month long investigation that is going nowhere fast.

  ‘Certainly, can’t muck it up any worse.’ The thought screeches through her mind as she wonders for the twentieth time if she should be doing this at all. Sure, she is with some acquaintances from work, but they don’t have a clue. No one knows what she is really doing here. Pictures of the last victim stroll through her more than an imaginative mind and she dismisses any misgivings.

  Maggie tries to tug on the skirt of the dress one more time. It is the hottest thing she owns according to her sister, whom she talks to weekly, most of the time. That and the three-inch heels she has to admit make her look nothing like the staid officer in her unisex uniform, that she wears 9 to 5, but then that is the idea.

  “Come on Maggie, you’ve got to dance! Hiding in this corner isn’t going to get you noticed!” One of her ‘friends’ from forensics catches her by the arm dragging her out onto the floor.

  “May I?” The deep voice behind her has her spinning and almost falling out of the heels although she is certain he is speaking to one of her friends. He has to be. Her friends are all younger, hotter, cooler than her. Besides, she isn’t here to socialize. She looks around again but the man staring at her is a good twenty feet away, she couldn’t possibly have heard him with the music beat pounding away. The look in those green eyes, hold her gaze however, leaving no doubt that it is her he is speaking to. It is as if his eyes have captured her, and she can’t look away.

  Approaching he holds his hand out to her. Maggie blinks breaking eye contact then looks up into his eyes again feeling herself melting there. Into his eyes. Taking his offered hand, she is drawn into a light embrace as he moves to the slow seductive music that has nothing to do with what is playing over the speakers. It’s as if the music he's moving to only the two of them can hear. His hand feels cool in hers and she worries briefly if she is sweating in this jungle of people, but the thought slides away just as quickly.

  Maggie steps in closer as if her feet have a mind of their own. Then quickly steps back as the chill that emits from him pushes against her heated skin. She starts to pull away then he says her name.

  “Margaret.” She can’t resist looking into his eyes, the cool grass green eyes hold her own for bare seconds and she relaxes. When did she tell him her name? No one calls her Margaret. The thoughts come and go. Triggering something deep inside.

  “So, what’s your name?” She tries to step back again using conversation to put distance between their bodies, but his arms hold. Pull her tighter against him as they dance. What she wants to say is no one calls her Margaret. She shakes her head slightly trying to clear the sudden confusion.

  “What is your favorite name?” He asks, his voice soft, seductive.

  “I don’t know, maybe,” she doesn’t get a chance to finish.

  “Call me Stephen.” He interrupts pulling her tighter against his body.

  Her heart is pounding so loudly against her ribs - as if it wants to escape – it’s all she can hear regardless of the blaring music. Despite the chill she can feel herself sweating and she can swear she can feel the brush of his skin against hers regardless of the clothing between. Yet she can’t feel his heart beating. Once more she tries to move away from him.

  “I need a drink.” Maggie manages to get out through lips that don’t want to obey her.

  He looks at her for just a split second and Maggie feels as if he is deciding whether or not to let her return to her table. Then the look is gone as quickly as it crosses his face. He smiles a smile that barely reveals his teeth. Only slightly bringing his lips up but doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “That would be fine Bella.” His accent she notices for the first time seems slightly Italian, but not really. She can’t quite place it.

  Some deep primal sense of self-preservation screams to her th
at something is very very wrong. Maggie can’t hear anything other than his soft voice calling her name.

  He places his hand at the small of her back and her confusion disappears. Her muscles relax, releasing all the strain of the day. Rolling her shoulders, she feels the difference. Starts to question it, but that thought soon leaves as well.

  A drink is waiting for her with her friends when she and Stephen return to the table. Her girlfriends smile at her but look at him nervously. Maggie tries to introduce them. The music is so loud she can’t even hear her own voice. One of her friends. Maggie has to concentrate to remember her name. Darma, that’s it, motions with her hands that they are going to dance and all three of them desert her. Leaving her alone with Stephen.

  Maggie turns her head slightly to look at his face. The only thing she sees is his eyes. They seem to command her attention. Strange grass green eyes, that hold a sliver of fire and capture her within them. Fire? 'It must be the lighting' she thinks, 'all the flashing strobes'.

  His thumb rubs across her hand then moves to her neck, touching, rubbing, massaging. She can feel passion growing, only it feels apart from her, alienated, as if it belongs to someone else, not her.

  “Maggie, you want me.” He whispers in her ear the sound once more blocking all the other sounds around her.

  Maggie can’t take her eyes off him, he isn’t handsome, his features are too rough for that. He stands well over her height of five feet eight inches even adding in the three-inch heels. His loose dark clothing doesn’t hide or disguise his well-toned muscles even in the dim lighting. If anything, he reminds her of that kick boxer from the 90's, what's his name? The actor whose face isn’t classically handsome, although his body is to die for, all hard muscles and lean lines. The one with the bad boy image, Jean something? Yet there is something about this man, the one standing beside her that is sending her self-preservation scrambling to be heard. Until he opens his mouth and words flow out musical, magical. Making the noise of the music disappear. She can no longer understand what he is saying, the words not making sense in her mind but they're soft, demanding, whatever it is she has to agree.

  “Maggie, you want me. Come dance with me.” He whispers again pulling her to her feet.

  Her body melts against him marveling at the strength in his arms as he holds her close while they dance. His lips nuzzle against her neck and every nerve ending in her body sizzle as if on fire. Somewhere she hears her own thoughts scream at her. ‘Who is he? RUN!’

  “We shall go outside to cool off, it is hot in here.” He whispers to her again. The words once more making sense.

  “Yes.” She can only nod in agreement as she watches his face barely able to drag her eyes off of his. His hand at the small of her back as he guides her through the club.

  “Maggie! Maggie!” Maggie thinks she hears one of her friends calling but isn’t certain. He looks down into her eyes and all thoughts of anything else slip away.

  Stephen leads her through a door labeled ‘employees only’ only there is no one to object. The hallway ends at a large steel door. Instead of the huge parking lot Maggie expects, they are standing in an area hidden in shadows behind the club. The area isn’t even paved but covered in gravel and dirt. The lone light at the top of the tall pole flickers off and on as if it is uncertain it wants to shed light back here. “Maggie.” His voice is like a whisper on the wind and she can’t help but stop and turn to look at him.

  Maggie’s heel slips in the gravel causing her to stumble. Stephen hasn’t noticed and is several feet in front of her still grasping her hand. The only thing keeping her standing when Maggie looks up and around at the surroundings. Not more than fifty or sixty yards away are thick woods. In this part of Georgia, it means swamp as well. She shakes her head trying to clear the mental fog she is trying to think through. Why has she come out here with this stranger? Catching him by surprise when she stumbles again. She is able to pull her hand free and starts back toward the door they have just come through.

  “Stephen isn’t one of my favorite names.” She has no idea why she even says that. The man throws his head back in exasperation, a growl slipping through his lips.

  Outside of the club the air is crisp and away from the heavy scents of perfumes and colognes and body sweat. To say nothing of the pheromones floating around inside the club, Maggie takes a deep breath. Steadying herself she realizes she must have had one too many drinks. Although she doesn't remember having more than one cocktail and has been drinking cola for the last hour or so. Another deep breath and her nose wrinkles involuntarily.

  “What the hell is that smell?” The thought slips out before she can stop it. Looking around she spots the trash bins. ‘Sulfur?’ the thought comes unbidden. Sniffing she knows it isn’t the trash emitting those noxious fumes but what the hell is it?

  Emotions flow over his face, as if he's trying to decide on which one to wear. With evident force he creates the mask of calm over his features. It's enough to cause Maggie to backup as he moves toward her. “Maggie, you have waited years for me, come to me.”

  Immediately the thoughts running through her mind evaporate. Her eyes and brain seem to only be able to focus on him. She no longer cares what the strange scent is or where they are. Involuntarily Maggie’s feet move forward. Her mind screams at her! What are you doing! This is against ALL the rules. Maggie’s rules of behavior! You never ever go into a dark place with a man! Let alone one you just met!

  Then he is kissing her neck and she doesn’t care if she has just met him. Her skin feels like it's on fire where his lips touch her. Yet at the same time as if his lips are ice. She can only want more. Pressing herself against him, her heart pounding, overriding common sense, she feels fear pooling alongside the desire he is stirring.

  “You want me Maggie, you have been waiting for me for a long time.”

  “Yes,” is all she can respond because she has been waiting a very long time. It must be him she is waiting for, isn’t it?

  His hands slide down her side. Stroking as they move, sending the fire hotter until she is certain she will combust from the heat. Only it isn’t heat she is feeling, it is cold. Where he touches her, he leaves cold in its wake.

  His lips are streaming kisses across her throat while his hands are at the hem of her dress.

  ‘No! This is so against the rules!’ Her mind tries screaming at her again. No one is listening. All she can hear is his voice whispering to her.

  His hands mold her breasts then his lips are on her nipple through the cloth. Wet, cold his lips stir passion nonetheless. A ripping noise and her dress tears from the neckline down several inches exposing the lacy bra. Then he is pulling the bra down exposing her breast only for mere seconds before he covers one with a hand, the other with his mouth.

  A moan slips through her lips, but the sound echoes hollowly in her head. Although her body is responding her mind is disconnected. Something. Is. Wrong!

  The cool air brushes against her thighs and she realizes he has lifted her dress over the top of her stockings. His hands have abandoned her breasts, his lips on her throat kissing, teeth scraping across her skin. Searching hands cool against her skin squeeze her thighs. She hears whispers and once more all thoughts disappear except for him. Melting against the wall he pushes her against.

  His lips are no longer on her neck. With one hand he pulls the top of her dress further apart, allowing her breast loose in the cool air as he is pushing her legs apart with the other. It is all she can do to stand as his tongue strokes first one breast, then the other. Then he abandons them lowering his head to her legs, the inside of her thigh. A sigh escapes her lips.

  The seductive heat that should have been there is gone. All she can feel is a deep tearing as ice penetrates the muscles in her leg!

  A scream escapes her lips as she pushes at him trying to force him away from her. The fog which has been muddling her brain is gone and she knows she is in trouble. With one hand he slams her body back against the
brick wall, hard, her head bouncing. With one hand he holds her there against all protests.

  Maggie screams again. “Get Off!” She pulls at his hair, but he ignores her as she rips hair out of his scalp.

  He slams her against the wall harder this time.

  “Shut the fuck up bitch.” His voice has lost all its seductiveness and only the cold hard core of it can be heard. Maggie’s legs try to collapse underneath her as her head bounces once more against the wall causing momentary darkness to descend. She doesn’t have to worry about falling, his grip is holding her in place despite the weakness in her legs.

  Ice climbs her leg crawling up her torso until she fears she is going to freeze! The screaming now is constant and for a brief second, she wonders who is screaming. Then knows it’s her voice, as pain tears from her thigh through her entire body.

  She doesn’t know how loud she is but knows it isn’t loud enough to be heard over the music inside. She is going to die. Just like the women she has seen in the morgue!

  “Get Off Me!” She manages to bring one leg up to try and push him away. It moves weakly and has no effect other than to cause him to chuckle as his teeth grip her leg again. Slowly she starts to slip as darkness is encroaching on her eyesight.

  A sudden swift pain tears across her stomach. One hand is no longer holding her up but swiping across her stomach. Bringing blood with it. She screams louder than she ever has as the pain brings her back to the moment. Sees, feels Stephen’s tongue lap across her stomach. At the cut he just made.

  Then suddenly the pain is gone. The man is gone. The ice is still there but that awful draining, pulling feeling is gone. Her hands feel wet and sticky as she puts them on her stomach. Lifting one hand she sees the dark liquid dripping from her fingers. She can hear a commotion, but her eyesight is failing. Only seeing movement in the shadows not being able to make out what is happening. Her legs finally give out and she slips both to the ground and into unconsciousness.