Blood Ecstasy (Blood Curse Series Book 8) by Tessa Dawn Page A

continued to fight her tears; and that, more than anything, solidified his will.  
    “Sh, don’t cry, angel. I promise you; you are free…at last. I will hunt and destroy them all.”  

eight
    Later that evening…

    After hiking about one mile in from River Rock Road, on the northern end of Dark Moon Vale, Braden Bratianu wound his way down a steep embankment and stopped, about six feet above the lowest point of a concealed, rushing river. Although he was surrounded by thickly treed forest, he wasn’t that far from home. In fact, he was only ten miles or so from Nachari’s brownstone, which was located in the northeast quadrant of the forest, and twenty-five miles from Marquis’s farmhouse, which was lodged in the opposing, northwest. His second family—his self-appointed brothers—could still get to him quickly if he needed them.
    Not that he would.  
    Braden Bratianu had shot up another two inches since his sixteenth birthday, and now, just four months shy of turning seventeen, he stood a full six feet tall. His shoulders were twice as broad as they were when he had first met the Silivasis, and his triceps, biceps, and pectoral muscles seemed to grow more defined, more developed, with every passing day. He was learning how to fight—well, he could hold his own with his classmates at the Academy, and he could certainly mop the floor with a human of any age or ability—and his powers of intuition and second-sight were continuing to evolve, as well. He didn’t always understand what things meant, what he was feeling or why, but he was getting accustomed to the fact that his soul was always plugged in—always online, so to speak—somehow connected, like an open Wi-Fi signal, to the heart of the house of Jadon and the fearsome Vampyr king, Napolean Mondragon.  
    Ever since that horrible day when Salvatore Nistor had hatched an insidious plot to take down the ancient king with a Blood Possession, Braden had been plugged in, turned on…wired for sound. And now that he had a future destiny of his own—okay, so Kristina wasn’t actually his destiny ; she was more like his mail-order, future bride, the woman Napolean was going to make him marry at some point far, far into the future, because the two of them had no one else—he was trying to be a lot more mature. He was doing everything he could to take on more responsibility and show the other warriors that he could act, and think, independently.
    Ah hell, who was he kidding?  
    He was trying to do everything he could to impress Kristina.  
    After all, he was nearly seventeen, and if human males were all one-track-mind, straight-up into girls at this age, then vampires, who matured quite a bit faster, were like human males on steroids. High heels, miniskirts, and pink Corvettes were just about all Braden could think of anymore: Kristina’s infamous calling cards.
    Okay, so that wasn’t completely true, either.  
    He spent an awful lot of time in the garage with Nachari, looking under the hood of the best Christmas present ever —the brand-spanking-new Ford Mustang “King Cobra” that Nachari and Deanna had bought him last year after he got his driver’s license. His sleek black-and-red pride and joy.
    He grinned at the thought, even as he made his way down the steep embankment to the riverbed, fished out two perfectly smooth, water-softened stones, and rubbed them against his shirt.  
    He had been spending a lot of time at the Dark Moon Mineral Plant recently, not only to learn more about the house of Jadon’s various industries, but to try to understand the metaphysical process that took place when a male vampire transformed a plain, earthen rock into a gemstone through a psychic, ancient practice. He was fascinated by the use of intentional thought—deep, focused emotion—as a catalyst, and the subsequent channeling of quantum waves, how something so simple, yet divine, could rearrange matter.  
    Most of the gems in Dark Moon Vale were native to