Blood Rain 2 Novels & Stories

The coppery smell blood of the young man I had punched and pinned to the ground filled my nose. One way in, several ways out, and I chose the easiest way to get back to Rose's apartment, in her bathroom, so I could wash myself off that fucker’s blood. She might be back from her date. I could see her collected step as she walked into her bedroom and then her bathroom. She took me by surprise by showing up in here naked; it was nice to see her in her birthday suit, but it wasn't what I needed to see right now; it could spark up the portion of my brain that had her name engraved on it.

“My name is Rain.” My heart dropped, and all color drained from my face. “Rain--- Blood?!” I asked in utter disbelief. THIS man was the infamous Rain Blood. The insane rogue that delighted in the gore and pain of pack mate and enemy alike?! He nodded, making a shiver of fear travel down my spine. “What do you want with me?” I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse. The man was notorious for messing with his enemies' heads – before ripping them to shreds, that is. There couldn’t be a single good reason for him to keep me alive.

The hospital parking lot had completely transformed into a slaughter ground as rain poured down heavily from the dark skies above while blood mixed with water across the concrete floor creating a terrifying crimson river flowing slowly toward the drainage. The doctor fought bravely as his military combat training allowed him to dodge several deadly attacks as he moved with desperate speed against the assassins surrounding him.

("Veins, blood, heaven!) The words echoed through the courtyard, amplified by the eerie silence. The red glow above intensified, and suddenly, thick droplets began falling from the sky. At first I thought it was just rain, but then a string metallic smell hit my nostrils. I looked down at my hands, it was stained red! Blood had began raining down upon us, splattering the ground, the pack members, and me. I gasped, shocked by what I was witnessing, color drained from my face and the good I had managed to hold down earlier, was in my throat again. The blood soaked through my gown, pulling me down with its weight. Mary’s chant grew louder, her eyes flashing with an otherworldly energy:

Drake’s POV – I stir awake to the faint echoes of battle still humming through the air. The scent of blood clings to the wind, but the fighting is ending—our men and Baylee’s wolves are finishing off the last of the rogues. It doesn’t take long. When it’s over, Ben taps me, and I open my eyes with a groan, blinking as the sunlight hits me full in the face. “Damn, that’s bright,” I mumble, shielding my eyes. Beside me, Dain groans too, clutching his head as the last traces of poison seep from my body. Caron’s potion is working—cleansing, pushing out the darkness.

He gave me a smile, my blood dripping from his lips, down his chin and on to his white shirt. Loud thunder coursed through the sky preceded by a flash of lightning a few seconds earlier. Soon thereafter rain started to fall. It wasn't water though. The rain was partly blood and partly molten liquid lava that seared into my clothes and skin as soon as they touched it. It burned me and gave off that burnt charcoal smell. "This little meeting was short but fun. I know what you look like now, I'll come find you." I look down at my bloody hands and rags, terrified at the events folding ahead of me.

It sloshed around until it filled to the top. Veronica removed the needle and the smell of her blood wafted up to me. I was still in my demon form! Shit! My bloodlust started to come out as my eyes instantly went to the spot where a drop of blood seeped out over her fair skin. My throat started to burn and itch as it began to crave for blood. I gulped and forced my eyes to look away. After the second vial was full, it felt like pure torture. Veronica bandaged up Arisa, stopping the bleeding but it was too late. The smell of blood filled the room.

The battlefield was painted in blood and shadow. The air tasted of iron and despair, thick with the smoke of burning timber and the acrid stench of supernatural flame. Rain had begun to fall not the gentle rain of mourning, but a harsh deluge that turned dust to mud and made the stones slick with a mixture of water and blood that pooled in every crack and crevice.

My house bleeding. I staggered outside, ignoring Damon’s shout. The rain poured harder, soaking me instantly. Cold water mixed with blood down my arm, my face. The storm howled, lightning splitting the sky. I tilted my head back, chest cracking open, and screamed. “FUUUUCK!” ***** The world wouldn’t stop spinning. I pressed my hand to my ribs, fingers slick with blood. Every breath was a knife carving through bone. “Sit the fuck down, Luca!” Damon barked, shoving me onto the leather chair in my office.

The night air was thick with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. The abandoned fortress outside Prague burned in the distance, casting a hellish glow over the field where it all came to an end. Bain stood at the center of the battlefield, his black coat soaked in blood—his and his enemies’. His breath came in ragged bursts. His knuckles were raw, his jaw bruised. But his eyes burned with vengeance. Volkov was still standing too, blood streaming from a gash over his eye, his lip split, one arm hanging limp from a dislocated shoulder. Around them, bodies littered the ground—Volkov’s men, torn apart by Bain’s soldiers and the loyal Bratva.