Undaunted Read online

  Undaunted

  Blood Bond Saga: Volume Three

  Helen Hardt

  This book is an original publication of Waterhouse Press.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 Waterhouse Press, LLC

  Cover Design by Waterhouse Press

  Cover Photographs: Shutterstock

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  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For everyone who loves all things that go bump in the night…

  Contents

  Part 7

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Part 8

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Part 9

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Continue the Blood Bond Saga

  Message from Helen Hardt

  Also By Helen Hardt

  Acknowledgments

  About Helen Hardt

  Prologue

  Dante

  Shovels, check.

  Gloves, check.

  Garbage bags, check.

  River donned a black leather duster and handed another to me. “This is my old one,” he said. “Should fit you fine. It’s supposed to get cool tonight.”

  “Vampires wearing dusters. So cliché.”

  “They’re warm. And they’re black. They’ll help us stay invisible in the dark.” I didn’t own a pair of black jeans, so I was wearing dark-blue denim. River’s jeans were black.

  He handed me a black ski mask. “We’ll need these too.”

  My father stood quietly in the corner as we prepared for the evening’s event. How did he feel about all this? About seeing his body? I had to mentally prepare myself as well. He hadn’t been gone very long, so flesh wouldn’t be falling off his bones yet. Still, it would show signs of decomposition.

  Humans often defecated upon death. Did vampires? We’d find out. Whether my father had or not, there would still be an unbearable stench. The body would have started to digest the intestines upon death, eating outward, helping the decomposition process.

  Rigor mortis would have ended by now. Since he was underground, his body might have been spared the infestation of larvae. But probably not. I’d read that maggots could digest sixty percent of a body within a week. My father had been dead for several.

  His skin, what was left of it, would be turning purple, and his body would be cold.

  Yes, I’d had to mentally prepare myself.

  But had my father?

  Didn’t matter. It was time.

  I looked to River.

  “Let’s roll,” he said.

  Chapter One

  Erin

  Before I could stop myself, I spilled the whole story about Dante and River breaking into the graveyard tonight. I conveniently left out the part about Julian being a ghost and glamouring anyone who crossed their paths. Oh, and I also left out the part that all three of them were vampires.

  “Oh my God,” Lucy said.

  “I know. But what can I do? I can’t call the cops. I don’t want to get them in trouble. And River is a cop.”

  “We could call Jay,” Lucy suggested. “Maybe he can talk them out of it.”

  “That wouldn’t do any good.”

  “Why not?”

  Because they would glamour him. I couldn’t say that to Lucy. She would think I was more of a nutcase than the nutcase I was currently channeling.

  Lucy picked up her cell phone from the bottom of her locker. “Oh!”

  “What is it?”

  She bit her lip. “Family issue,” she said after glancing at her phone. “It’s a good thing I have a few personal days available. I’m going to need to take some days off.”

  “Is everything okay?” I wanted to sound more concerned. I wanted to be more concerned. I just couldn’t get my mind off Dante and River desecrating a cemetery.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

  She fumbled in her locker and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me. “This is for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s personal. Please, just trust me. If baby Bianca comes back into the emergency room, open it. Do what it says.”

  “Luce…”

  “Don’t open it unless she comes back.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. Everything is okay. Trust me.” Her tone was almost hypnotic.

  The white envelope burned like a heated coal against my palm.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Lucy raced out, disappearing in a flash.

  My fingers itched to rip the paper.

  But I’d made a promise to Lucy, and no matter where my mind had gone during the last couple of days, she was still my best friend and had been there for me when I needed her.

  I snatched my purse out of my locker and buried the envelope in the bottom of it, determined to forget it.

  I was on duty, and now, with Lucy gone at the last minute, we would be shorthanded.

  I changed into my scrubs and hurried out of the locker room. I still had a few minutes before I needed to clock in, so I decided to visit the blood bank to make sure the B positive had been restocked. As I walked down the corridor, a strange sound resonated off to my right. A supply closet, and the door was cracked.

  Another sound, like a squeak.

  “Hey, anybody in there?”

  I pushed the door slightly. Another squeak.

  My skin chilled as I opened the door farther.

  Then—

  “Oh my God! Logan? Is that you?”

  I removed the black blindfold. Yes, it was Logan, sans his tortoiseshell glasses and still in his green scrubs. His hair was greasy and matted down, and he struggled against the ropes binding him and t
he duct tape over his lips. The skin around both of his eyes was a mass of purple and yellow bruising. The yellow meant he was healing. He’d been beaten days ago. Maybe as much as a week.

  When had he disappeared? My mind raced, but I couldn’t quite remember. With all that had gone on in my life since then, time had gotten fuzzy. Days had morphed into weeks.

  “Are you okay?” I fingered his cheeks gently. “I’m so sorry. Who did this to you?”

  “Mmm!” he mumbled.

  “Oh, yeah. Let me get that.” I knelt down and ripped the tape from his mouth.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry. You know as well as I do that it’s better to rip off a bandage.”

  “Still. Jesus, Erin.”

  “You remember my name. That’s a good sign. Where have you been, Logan?”

  “I honestly have no idea.”

  “I have to tell you. The doctors are furious. Especially Bonneville. You’re lucky she just went on a three-week vacation.”

  “That’s one small silver lining. Could you get these ropes untied, please?”

  “Who took you? Where have you been?” I asked again.

  “Do I look like I know?” He struggled as I worked on the ropes binding him.

  “All right. Tell me what you can, then.”

  “I don’t need to tell you anything. I’ll be talking to the cops.”

  “My brother is a cop.” And so is my vampire boyfriend’s cousin, and they’re off desecrating a graveyard tonight.

  My skin numbed. Couldn’t think about that now. I tried to be gentle, but Logan’s wrists were chafed from the coarse rope. He grumbled as I worked the knot.

  “Could you maybe go a little faster?” He tugged against the bindings.

  “I’m doing the best I can. These aren’t knots I’m familiar with, and they’re tight. Quit resisting. It’s making it more difficult. Whoever tied these must have had superhuman strength.”

  Superhuman strength.

  Vampire strength?

  No. I was done thinking Dante could possibly have anything to do with these hospital disappearances.

  Wasn’t I?

  The first woman disappeared the night he showed up, Erin.

  No. No. No.

  You love him. He loves you. You are bonded.

  He had nothing to do with any of this.

  I worked furiously at the knot binding Logan’s wrists. Finally, it loosened, and I was able to untie the rope.

  Logan rubbed at his wrists. They were red, but no skin had been broken that I could see.

  “My feet, please,” he said.

  “Yeah. Of course.” Though you might be a little nicer about it. I began again on an equally secure knot. “Can you tell me anything? Do you remember anything? What about the girl who disappeared with you, the one who had open-heart surgery?”

  “She disappeared too?”

  “Yeah. We all just assumed you disappeared around the same time. The cops are on it. Someone reported you missing just recently.”

  “Who?”

  “The cops wouldn’t tell us. Said whoever it was wanted to remain anonymous. Don’t you know who it might have been?”

  “How would I know? I don’t have any family here in New Orleans. I’m an only child, and my parents are both gone. There’s no one I keep in contact with on a regular basis. The only people who see me regularly are the hospital staff. Didn’t someone here report it?”

  “Well…no. We all just figured you had a good reason for being gone.”

  “Let me get this straight. I’ve been gone for—how long have I been gone, anyway?—and no one fucking reported it? No one fucking cared?” He continued rubbing at his wrists.

  “It’s not that we didn’t care, Logan. It just wasn’t—”

  “Unbelievable.” He shook his head.

  “Let me finish. It wasn’t our business. Dr. Bonneville told us—”

  “Screw that bitch.”

  “You’re a grown man. You could have gone home.”

  “I’m a doctor, Erin. A resident. Who the hell will hire a physician who bails on his residency? You really think I would just up and leave?”

  No, I didn’t. Truth be told, I’d been too involved in what was going on in my own life to think of filing a missing persons report on Logan or anyone else. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it.

  “The bitch told you all to mind your own business, huh?”

  “Pretty much. But I should have made more of an effort. We all should have.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” He sighed. “But the ER is a busy place.”

  “Busier since you’ve been gone.”

  “I’m back now. I’ll be talking to the cops, though, before I go back to work. If they let me go back to work.”

  “Why wouldn’t they? None of this is your fault. Do you remember anything about what happened?”

  “Not really. Just bits and pieces. I struggled at first, but got the shit kicked out of me, as you can see.”

  “Nothing else?”

  He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m pretty sure I did some surgeries.”

  “You’re pretty sure?” No doctor should be performing surgeries when he’s not in the right state of mind. Plus, Logan was an ER resident, not a surgical resident.

  “Shit, Erin, I just don’t know. It’s bits and pieces. Maybe I dreamed it.”

  I hoped so, for his sake. Performing surgeries he wasn’t qualified to do could cost Logan his medical license.

  “Come on. I’ll help you up. I think we need to take you up to the ER to be looked at. What else did they do to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” His lips formed a thin line.

  “I can help, and it’s probably nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m a nurse, Logan.”

  “And I’m a doctor. I outrank you.”

  I kept my lips shut. I had no idea what else had been done to him, so I’d cut him some slack. Not like I could do anything about it anyway. He did outrank me. Again, I wished I’d been able to afford med school, but no time to mourn that now.

  Right now, I had to help Logan. I was a nurse, and that was my job, no matter how big an asshole the patient wanted to be.

  I’d make him pay for it later.

  Chapter Two

  Dante

  Sneaking into St. Louis Cemetery One hadn’t been as daunting as I’d imagined. My father easily glamoured the guards into submission, and River and I, our flashlights on the dimmest setting possible, sneaked through the graveyard, looking for sod that had been recently disturbed.

  Supernatural energy vibrated around us. Nothing was visible, but ghosts were here. The chills on the back of my neck were not from the cool temperature this night. The pathways were narrow, as crypts were large and ornate throughout. Most of the vaults dated from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

  “Let’s head toward the Protestant section,” River whispered.

  “Why? And why are you whispering?”

  “I don’t know. Seems the thing to do among the dead. There are larger grassy areas in that part. More likely your dad would be there.”

  We passed the vault where the self-styled voodoo queen, Marie Laveau, reputedly lay. It had been painted and repainted time and time again, and even now, triple Xs had been carved into the concrete, and flowers, candles, coins, Mardi Gras beads, and other small items—including several beer cans—graced the ground around the grave. I stopped for a moment.

  “What?” River whispered.

  “What’s all this about?”

  “Some belief. Apparently if you break off a piece of brick from another gravesite, spin around three times, and carve three Xs on this one, the voodoo queen will grant you a wish. You leave an offering as well. That’s what all this is.” He gestured to the gifts left on the ground and shook his head. “Tourists.”

  “A beer can is an offering?”

  “Apparently. Or someone decided this was a wastebasket. Shitheads. The city spends a ton of mo
ney cleaning up after the tour groups that come through here. Makes me kind of sick, to be honest.”

  The air was thick around the white vault. Something held me there, wanted me to stay.

  But River grabbed my arm. “Stop it. Let’s get this done as quickly as we can. I’m getting creeped out.”

  “You? The detective?”

  “Shut up. I work nights in New Orleans. I’ve seen some shit you wouldn’t believe.”

  I chuckled under my breath.

  We continued walking through the cemetery, the subtle rays from our flashlights helping our acute vision. I was supposed to be concentrating on the grassy areas, but the markings on the vaults kept drawing me away.

  Something was pushing me toward something, but I had no idea what it was.

  “Come on,” River urged.

  I summoned my strength and trudged forward, trying to ignore the pull of the vaults. My father stayed outside the graveyard, taking care of anyone who might get in the way of our progress. But would he be more help to us in here? Could he feel where his body might be located?