Bloodhound Chapter 3 Novels & Stories

KAI Sweeping the bright beam of my tactical flashlight across the red snow, my chest tightened. Three of our best bloodhound trackers were down on their hands and knees, sniffing the frozen ground around the oak tree. They looked completely baffled. "Talk to me," I ordered, my voice cutting through the freezing wind. "There has to be something. A print. A drop of rogue blood. Anything."

The room got quieter in the specific way it did when everyone in it knew something and nobody wanted to be the first to say it. "Level 5 Inquisitor," Garrett said. "Yes." Marcus swiped to the next frame. The image was grainy, night-vision footage, but clear enough. There was a figure moving ahead of the lead vehicle. Not walking alongside it—moving in front, on all fours, loose and low to the ground, nose tracking the air. "And that—" "That's a Blood-Hound," Xander said. It wasn't a question. The Blood-Hound stopped at the edge of the road and lifted its head. Even through the camera, even through the static and distance, you could see the moment it caught something.

Then it dawned on me that it couldn't talk and his touch felt like… a hound. Shadow Hound. Oh no! The chains were the only ones that were making noises as I continued to move back, almost turning to run to nowhere, but I hit something, melting, and the smell? Gosh! It was terrible! Its breathing was bad. The same hound!! I stepped away, but the hound grabbed my left arm, his claws reaching for my neck,” Get off me!!” I tried to yank his stinky hand away, but I couldn't as it got hold of my hands with the silver chains.

With another lift of my sword, his head flies off. I turn and look at the satisfied smile on Marinah's face, which is also speckled with blood and gore. "More," she says with a chilling smile that's all fang. Next, we find a group of three hellhounds. They're farther from the water in abandoned sections of buildings that were once part of a small town. I don't bother offering warnings this time. Most likely I'll be administering the antidote before the night is over.

“I had wandered into the ruins of an old vampire estate. It was cursed ground, but I didn’t care—I was hunting a blood-dealer. Instead, I found three figures—one in full wolf form, one humanoid but crawling, and the last… it didn’t have a shape. Just a shadow with glowing red eyes. The others followed it like soldiers.” Gunner’s brow furrowed. “What did they do?” “They didn’t speak. They circled me. I prepared for a fight… but they didn’t attack. They just watched. And then the shadow one hissed. ‘Not the blood we seek. Not yet.’ And they vanished.” Isolde’s fangs peeked out as she frowned. “I thought it was a hallucination. But now… now I think they were hunting something. Or someone.” ****

HIS DARKEST SHADE BOOK-THREE ~Prologue~ “Even if you end up hating me for it.” His tone was vicious. “I might scare you,” he continued, his gaze roaming over her trembling form, “but they are far worse—formidable, vicious… and willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.” He gestured toward her. “Including you.” “Never.” She shook her head, her voice trembling but firm. “I’m not scared of your words. You’re just trying to scare me so I’ll listen to you!”

He turned to Stephen and he was laughing. "Don’t bother them Callum . It’s normal. Elliot, where is Trist"? He asked Elliot and before Elliot could reply, Callum saw two wolves coming to them. He got a bit scared at their appearance and moved behind Steph. One of the two mighty wolves came forward. He was dark grey. Like thunder clouds. He encircled Callum in a judging style. Taking a whiff here and there and moving back to nuzzle the white Wolf beside him. Licking his cheeks he turned to Steph.

she said to herself. The fourth book begins at chapter 1 in Paris. The End.

Then another. And another. My heart slammed against my ribs. I shoved the resin into a crack between two stones and struck my blade against flint. Spark. Nothing. “Come on,” I hissed. Another spark. This time the resin caught. A bitter, choking smoke rolled up at once, twisting through the trees and warping the blood scent in the air. “There!” Odin shouted from uphill. The first carrion hound burst from the brush. It was bigger than I remembered, all slick gray fur and jutting bones, with a muzzle too long and teeth too many to fit inside it properly. Its nose twitched wildly. Behind it came three more.

“You help me, I keep you out of prison. You’re not here to ask questions.” Emily stood her ground, crossing her arms. “I know you, Hound. I will not serve as an accessory to your murders or whatever you have planned.” Hound sighed, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Slowly, he began to strip off his shirt, revealing the intricate runes etched across his body in deep blue ink. The sight was both mesmerizing and harrowing. “I watched my mother die, overworked as a slave,” he began, his voice trembling. “I should have pushed her off the building… It would’ve been the greatest mercy I could’ve offered her.”