- Home
- Hunter, Elizabeth
Saint’s Passage: Elemental Covenant Book One
Saint’s Passage: Elemental Covenant Book One Read online
Saint’s Passage
Carwyn ap Bryn and Brigid Connor are two elemental vampires finding the lost, righting wrongs, and searching for meaning in the endless stretch of immortality they’ve been granted.
And trying not to blow things up, but that might be more aspirational.
Everyone said that Lupe Martínez was a good kid. She listened to her mom, she helped at the homeless shelter, she got good grades, and she had a bright future ahead of her.
Until she disappeared.
Now no one knows what to think. The police are sure she ran away; her mother is sure she didn’t. Days have passed and no one knows what to do until her family priest suggests they call in an old friend.
A very old friend.
Saint’s Passage is the first book in the paranormal mystery series Elemental Covenant by Elizabeth Hunter, USA Today best-selling author of the Elemental Legacy series, the Glimmer Lake Series, and the Irin Chronicles.
Praise for Elizabeth Hunter
#1 Vampire Thriller
#1 Vampire Suspense
TOP TEN—Paranormal and Urban Fantasy
I was mesmerized by the setting and community/lifestyle we get a peek at in the desert. Hunter doesn’t shy away from bringing the wrongs of the world into her story and making your heart ache with the injustices.
—This Literary Life
It's mysterious, romantic, and full of faith, hope, and love. Carwyn and Brigid are perfect for each other.
—Norma’s Nook
Hunter's passion for intertwining facts, storylines and the paranormal are superior - it keeps you involved, it makes you care, has you rooting, laughing, holding your breath and then saying WHAT DO YOU MEAN I FINISHED IT?
—Danielle, Goodreads reviewer
We get Carwyn's optimism and wit with Brigid's fiery personality. Their banter is on point.
—Kate, Goodreads reviewer
I love where this new series is going and I can't wait to read more.
—M.J. Goodreads reviewer
Is it too cheesy to call this an explosive new series? Because, well...as it turns out, when you have a fire and an earth elemental vampire teaming up to solve a mystery, things can get...rocky.
—Kathryn, Goodreads reviewer
Saint’s Passage
Elemental Covenant Book One
Elizabeth Hunter
Saint’s Passage
Copyright © 2021
Elizabeth Hunter
ISBN: 978-1-941674-63-5
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Cover: Damonza
Content Editor: Amy Cissell, Cissell Ink
Line Editor: Anne Victory
Proofreader: Linda, Victory Editing
If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, please delete it and purchase your own copy from an authorized retailer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Recurve Press LLC
PO Box 4034
Visalia, California 93278
USA
Created with Vellum
For everyone who has made it this far
Contents
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
The Elemental Universe
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Elizabeth Hunter
Prologue
María Guadalupe Martínez Estrada stared up at the painting of Christ with children climbing up his knees and playing with the ends of his robes. She glanced at the sputtering flames of the prayer candles beneath the painting and wondered what each candle represented.
A sick child? An unexpected pregnancy? An angry parent?
It was Lupe’s favorite place to wait in Saint Peter’s church when she was killing time before youth-group duties. Most of the time, this chapel was empty and she could check her phone or read a book in peace.
Tonight her phone battery was dangerously low, so she stared at the painting. There were children of every color and various ages. Some had fine clothes, but most had shirts that were worn or scuffed on the edges.
A plaque at the bottom of the painting bore the words “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them. For the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
It was a nice idea. A good goal, Lupe thought. It wasn’t reality. In the middle of Los Angeles—the “city of angels”—it was more an ironic joke than anything else.
She was waiting by the painting while Father Anthony told the new kids what they’d be doing that night and what they might expect at the rescue mission. Saint Peter’s youth group helped out serving meals and cleaning rooms one night a week for the family quarters at the mission while some of the older kids like Lupe set up the warming center when temperatures dropped and then went out in “street teams” to talk to families that might need help.
Focus on the kids, Father Anthony always said. We can’t help everyone every night, so we focus on the most vulnerable. Get those kids indoors.
People thought it didn’t get cold in LA. That was bullshit. It was January, and they’d had nearly a week of almost freezing temperatures. That might not seem like much for someone from a place that snowed, but when you lived on the street, the cold was enough to keep you miserable at night, especially if you were a little kid.
“Hey, Lupe.”
She turned to see Joshua Gomez enter the chapel.
“Hey.” She looked back to the painting, her eyes fixed on the lit candles. Josh would want to talk. He always wanted to talk. Mostly about himself. Maybe she could convince him she was praying.
“Did you see how many freshmen came tonight?” He sat next to her. “I guess my talk last Sunday must have motivated them, huh?”
So no luck on the praying thing. “Yeah, probably.” More likely it had to do with report cards coming out and college-bound kids realizing they needed volunteer hours if they wanted to be eligible for the good scholarships, but she didn’t mention that. She glanced back and saw a middle-aged priest leading a group of younger teens from the youth-group meeting room. “Looks like we’re ready to go.”
“Good.” Josh stood when Lupe did. “So… you want to be on the street team with me tonight?”
Lupe glanced toward the meeting room. Teaming up with Josh wasn’t exactly in her plan, but she didn’t know how to turn him down without him getting suspicious. “Um… Yeah, I guess. I might have to stick close to the mission though. I kinda had that thing last week with the guy from Streets Alive, remember?”
Josh shrugged. “That dude? He won’t bother you if you’re with me.”
“Uh-huh.” Lupe hooked her backpack over her shoulder and headed toward the foyer of the church.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
* * *
Lupe stuffed her hands in the pockets of her thickest jacket, keeping her bright blue rescue-mission shirt visible as she walked through the park with Josh and Mika Walker, one of the other senior girls. Mika and Josh were debating the merits of dorm life at UCLA and USC, which was where Mika wanted to attend.
And Lupe? Well, college was a little more complicated for her.
She kept her eyes out for any small faces peeking from tents or the backs of cars parked in the scattered parking spaces. The mission had beds open tonight in the family wing.
“…don’t you think, Lupe?”
She snapped to attention at the sound of her name, turning to Mika and Josh. “Huh?”
“I was saying that talking about which college dorms are nicer seems a little tone-deaf when we’re trying to help homeless families.” Mika kept her voice low and glanced at Josh. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I mean…” Lupe kept hearing Daniel’s snide remarks in the back of her head.
Privileged rich kids with a hero complex.
Do-gooders without a clue.
Blue-shirts looking for social justice points.
“I think we should focus on seeing if there are any kids our age,” she said. “I’m not seeing anyone that looks like they’re with a family. I haven’t seen any littles, have you?”
“No.” Mika smiled a little. “Which is good. I’m with you. Let’s see if we can find anyone a little older.”
Kids their age were probably the trickiest to deal with and often the most resistant to help. Any kid under eighteen knew they could go back into the system, which was how many of them had wound up on the streets in the first place. So most kids they talked to—even those obviously younger—said they were eighteen.
And technically, kids over eighteen needed to go to the single men or single women’s housing, which wasn’t where the kids from Saint Peter’s worked. And it wasn’t where a vulnerable teen should be either.
“Come on,” Lupe said, tugging Josh’s sleeve. “We can ask Tonya if she’s seen anyone new.”
Tonya was one of the activists in charge of Streets Alive, the homeless advocacy group that regularly worked downtown. They had a big converted van that drove around to all the encampments and were connected with all the city services and charities. Tonya was an older woman, and she had a soft spot for teen girls, often defying the people from Social Services who tried to find out their identities and ages.
“If the system had been safe, they wouldn’t have left.”
That’s what Tonya usually said about her girls, and it had stuck with Lupe. She knew, better than her friends did, that just because something was legal, it wasn’t necessarily right. And just because something was illegal, it wasn’t necessarily wrong.
Lupe spotted Daniel immediately when they walked around the public bathroom and saw Tonya set up in the front parking lot. She was standing in front, talking to a group of women, and had two teen girls with her handing out brown paper bags with sandwiches. Daniel was standing at the back of the van, talking and passing out bulky blankets wrapped in plastic.
Thick, dark hair fell to his shoulders, and his light brown complexion was tanned from spending most of his days outdoors. His mouth was set in a serious line that didn’t shift an inch when he caught sight of Lupe.
She glanced at him but looked away quickly. How old was he? He’d never said. Too old, her mother would say.
It didn’t matter; that wasn’t why she needed to talk to him. It wasn’t like that.
Keep telling yourself that.
Lupe knew she was flirting with a crush; she also knew Daniel would sneer at the word. And the idea. He wasn’t working on the streets to meet a naive girl from Huntington Park.
She hiked her backpack on her shoulder and hung back as Josh and Mika approached Tonya, who was setting up chairs and a portable fireplace where people could get warm. Lupe stayed at the edge of the gathering crowd and waited for his voice.
“I told you not to come with your little friends.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then quickly moved her eyes forward. “Father Anthony doesn’t let us wander around by ourselves at night. Groups of two or three only.”
“Am I gonna have to stage an argument with you again?”
Lupe huffed. She was kind of sick of Daniel’s cloak-and-dagger silliness. She didn’t understand why everything had to be so secret. “Just tell me what the plan is. My mom isn’t working tomorrow night, so I’m gonna have to—”
“It’s not tomorrow night, it’s tonight.”
She turned, not caring if anyone noticed them. “What? That wasn’t what we talked about.”
“Plans had to change. Deal with it.” Daniel couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “I got the car and the money tonight. You think there’s time to hang out and wait?”
Lupe didn’t know what to say. “I need more time” seemed selfish. “I don’t have anything ready.”
Daniel stepped closer to her, and in a place that mostly smelled like urine and human sweat, he smelled clean, masculine, and safe. “You don’t have to have stuff ready, Lupe. You have to be ready.” His dark eyes met hers. “Are you?”
She glanced at Mika and Josh, then back to Daniel. “Okay, tell me what to do. Right now, while they’re talking to Tonya.”
Daniel leaned down and began to whisper in her ear.
By the time Mika and Josh turned around, Lupe Martínez was gone.
Chapter One
New York City, NY
One week later
Brigid Connor glanced to her right and saw the shadow of a mountain at her shoulder. “Are you sure we know what we’re doing here?”
The mountain looked down. “Do we ever?”
Brigid shrugged. “Fair point.”
“Just give us your stuff and you can go,” the scrawny human holding the gun said.
The two men at the end of the alley were very convinced that the two people in evening wear whom they’d taken for tourists were clueless and would hand over their wallets now that they’d been cornered by “menacing” humans. The men had heard the heavy accents, seen the two strangers looking at a map of downtown. An honest-to-goodness map! Who used a map these days?
Had to be stupid foreign tourists.
“This dress doesn’t have a single place to carry a gun,” Brigid said. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
“We’re going to a gallery opening.” The mountain, also known as her mate, Carwyn, spoke casually. “Admittedly, the New York art scene has been described as murderous, but who wouldn’t assume that was a metaphor?”
The men exchanged glances. The foreigners in the evening clothes didn’t seem worried.
“We said” —the stockier human stepped forward and raised his firearm— “hand over your stuff. Do that and nobody gets hurt.”
Brigid saw the dull black barrel the human pointed at her and cocked her head. “Oh hello, my pretty. Is that a Kimber nine millimeter? That’s a step up from the usual, isn’t it? Carwyn, look at this.”
Carwyn was starting to squirm in the dress clothes he’d been forced to don for the evening. “I’ve never had your penchant for firearms, darling girl. Can’t tell one from the other. Bang, bang, ow. That’s roughly the extent of my firearms acumen.”
“I’m just sayin’…” What was she thinking? They were wasting time. She pulled her gaze from the lovely pistol and looked at the man holding the gun on her. “Listen, before I give you my purse, can I grab my lighter from the pocket?” She laid her Irish accent on thick. “See, it was me own dear da’s, and he’s passed and it’s the last thing I have of his. It’s not dear or anything of the sort, but if you could just—”
“Fine!” The robber relented, no doubt just a little nervous that the extremely large man behind her didn’t seem anxious in the least and was inching closer as every moment passed.
Carwyn kicked at the asphalt. “Brigid, my love.”
“
Yes, dear?” Brigid made a show of looking through her small purse.
“One thing I’ve noticed about these New York alleys? They really have a lot of potholes.”
“Is that so?” Her fingers closed around the lighter. “All the way down to the mud? Is that what yer saying?”
The second man was getting nervous. “Will you two shut up and hand over—”
“Found my lighter.” Brigid’s fingers closed around the cool metal.
“About time.”
At once, Brigid dropped her purse and flicked the lighter open as Carwyn fell to the ground, one arm shooting out to catch her handbag as the other hand pushed into the pothole where he’d been kicking asphalt.
Brigid braced herself for the quick jolt as Carwyn’s elemental power hit the earth beneath her feet. It threw both the humans holding guns off-balance. She hit the lighter and caught the flame in her hand, feeding it until it she held twin balls of fire.
“Guns are less noticeable in this country” —she advanced on the two humans and smiled, letting her fangs drop— “but they’re not the only weapon I have.”
The two men started screaming. They threw their guns at Brigid, who tossed the amber-gold fireball in the air and caught the Kimber.