Discounted books include: |
Olivia thinks it’s her lucky night when a dangerously handsome unconscious fae ends up on her inspection table. He’s her chance to redeem herself with her employer, the demon-hunting organisation, Archangel. But when the tall, dark and deadly immortal warrior awakes, she gets much more than she bargained for…
Excerpt: Olivia had never seen anything like the male specimen on the inspection table in front of her.
Her heart raced. She hadn’t experienced this explosive combination of uncertainty, anticipation and enthusiasm in a long time, ever since her superiors had stripped her of her rank and sent her to this satellite facility in London, taking away her high-level privileges and forcing her to work on studying demon and fae species already extensively researched. It still felt as though they had shoved her out of sight, burying her in the Archangel equivalent of a basement to punish her for her mistake. She had lost all hope of removing the taint it had left on her name in the organisation.
Until now.
The specimen lying right in front of her was her chance to prove herself again, a gift that some higher power had literally dumped on her doorstep.
Blood stained his neck and splashed across his jaw, and pooled at the left corner of his mouth too, luring Olivia’s gaze to firm sensual lips that had her staring blankly, lost in their perfection. She blinked herself out of her trance. Time was of the essence. She needed to get her study underway before her guest woke up or one of the other doctors belonging to the facility barged in and tried to take over.
She shook her hands to steady them, pulled her digital recorder from the pocket of her white coat, and turned it on. She set it on the silver trolley filled with all the equipment she thought she might need to complete her inspection of their unconscious guest.
Olivia tugged on a pair of latex gloves and ran her fingers over the scalpels and tools, and settled on a pair of shears. It had been a long time since she had been able to work on a live specimen and she wanted to start by getting his vitals monitored.
She picked up the shears and cut down the middle of his long black tunic style jacket. Red stained her cream gloves.
“Specimen appears to have suffered severe injuries, worse than at first thought, resulting in a high level of blood loss.” She reached the end of his jacket and peeled the two sides back. She paused, her eyes widening at the impressive display of taut honed muscles under tight bloodstained and bruised skin. “Specimen also isn’t wearing anything under his coat.”
Completely unprofessional of her but she had expected at least some sort of undershirt, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated a body like this. She drew in a shaky breath, mentally told herself to get it together, and cut upwards along each of his sleeves. She peeled the two sides of his ruined jacket away from his body and set them down on the tray.
“Multiple lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. Many appear to be claw marks. Possible demon attack. Subject wears matching black and silver metal bands on each wrist.” Olivia spread her fingers and stroked along the lines of four long slashes over his left deltoid. She gasped. “Specimen has markings on his body that hadn’t been visible prior to interaction with him.”
Olivia tracked the symbols with her fingertips, following them as they formed a curl over his deltoid to his shoulder. Whenever she moved along the line, more symbols appeared, luring her fingers. The colourful swirls and glyphs shimmered through the blood staining him. They swept over his shoulder and under his collarbone, and suddenly she was caressing his left pectoral, chasing them as they followed the shape of his muscle downwards over his heart and around across his torso, and then curled under his nipple to end in a point there.
She had never seen anything like this. It fascinated her. The ones that curled around his deltoid were already fading, disappearing into his skin.
She had made it her business to study the written languages of the fae and demons, because many non-humans bore markings like this and it made it easier to identify the species of the owner. Incubi were born with lines of symbols on their skin that not only changed colour to show their mood, but also detailed their lineage, proudly displaying their heritage in the paternal line. The symbols inked on this male’s skin weren’t that of the common fae language though. They were new to her.
“Specimen’s markings seem limited to his upper torso.” She leaned over him and swept a single finger across his right pectoral, and sure enough, markings appeared there too, perfectly mirroring the design she had followed. Olivia used the shears to cut through the waist of his black trousers and froze when more markings shimmered over his hipbone. “Correction. Specimen’s markings continue on his lower body, notably his hips.”
Olivia flicked a glance at the front of his trousers. If this lean, unusual male didn’t wear an undershirt, what were the chances he wasn’t wearing underwear too?
She curled her fingers into fists and stifled the blush that crept onto her cheeks. She had seen plenty of nude men during her years as a doctor and in her personal life too. He was just a specimen. Her gaze roamed to his handsome face, taking in its sculpted perfection. A very gorgeous specimen.
Her heart beat harder and she rolled her shoulders. She had to get a grip. This was her chance. If she had never seen anything like this man, then there was a chance neither had the other scientists employed by Archangel. All those scientists that were currently enjoying a soiree at headquarters, leaving her as the only medical staff in the building. If she could document everything about this male, and figure out what species of demon or fae he was, then her superiors would have to give her some credit, and maybe she could get back to doing what she loved most—studying new species.
So, she had to do this. He was just another subject.
Olivia cut away his trousers, running the shears straight down each long, toned leg. She removed the central part and swallowed as her gaze betrayed her, darting to his groin. No underwear. Her face flushed. Oh my. The man was built like a god with not an ounce of fat on his lithe body. All powerful muscle.
She set the shears down and took another steadying breath before touching the fading marks on his left hip. They brightened again and she followed them.
“Specimen’s markings curl over his hip from behind. Cannot risk moving specimen without harming him to investigate them. They move down past his… groin… and then sweep back around to curl over his hip.” Her heart ran away with her again, her blood rushing through her ears. She hadn’t needed to follow the marks all the way to make the ones that arced around towards his buttocks appear. Her fingers had brushed the ones closest to the dark thatch of curls around his genitals and they had appeared.
His hip twitched beneath her fingertips.
Olivia quickly pulled her hand back and froze. He didn’t move again. The breath she had been holding rushed out of her.
“I am going to proceed with monitoring the specimen’s vitals.” She picked up several of the pads used as contacts for the machines and stuck them to his chest and below his ribs on the left side. If he had a similar physiology to a human as many fae species did, chances were high that she could pick up and monitor his heart rate this way. She connected the wires, switched on the machine, and placed a clip over his index finger. The heart rate monitor beeped slowly but everything else was off the charts. “Specimen shows extremely high levels of oxygen in his blood, beyond normal parameters. What are you?”
She ran her gaze over him. He had taken a severe beating before they had found him unconscious outside the building, as if someone had wanted them to find him.
Sable, her friend and demon hunter extraordinaire, had taken one look at him and her gift had told her that he wasn’t mortal.
The hunters who had helped her bring him in had believed he had crawled to them or had made his own way to their doors. Sable didn’t believe that and neither did Olivia.
No demon or fae in their right mind would place themselves at the mercy of Archangel.
No. Someone had dropped this male on their porch and left him there, wanting Archangel to bring him inside. Why?
It could be a trap and it would be just her luck if it were.
“Specimen appears mortal. Markings on his skin appear fae possibly.” But they hadn’t captured a fae in years and he was nothing like the fae she had read about in the database or seen firsthand. “Specimen is male, estimated six-feet-six, one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. Black hair.”
Olivia inspected his stomach, pressing in to feel his organs. He felt human but something about him, something other than his mysterious markings, told her that he wasn’t. She peered closer at the severe wounds on his stomach and chest.
“Specimen appears to have advanced healing ability. Age of blood around the wounds is indicative of a recent injury, but the wounds in question are already closed and beginning to scab over.” Many demon and fae species had heightened healing. He could be any number of them. Olivia carefully pulled his upper lip back and studied his teeth. “No fangs. Canines appear normal.”
She drew back and something caught her eye. She parted the wild strands of his short black hair and traced the pointed tip of his ear. Was he a demon? They had pointed ears.
Olivia hovered over him, looking down at his handsome bloodstained face. She had never seen a demon as beautiful, mysterious, or deadly as he was.
Deadly.
She could feel it like an aura around him.
He was dangerous.
And waking up.
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A heat wave isn't the only thing making London too hot for lawyer Kim. She's been spending each night with a man who sets her body and heart on fire. The problem? He's a man who always sprouts black fur and purrs, and he's only a dream. Walking into her office, the last thing she expects is to meet Erik, a man who sends her temperature soaring and who resembles her dream guy exactly.
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Lukas is gorgeous and way out of Annelie's league, but when he confesses that he wants her, she can't resist his passionate kiss and seizes the moment, and Lukas, with both hands. But Lukas has a secret, one that will test Annelie's love for him and threaten to tear them apart. He's a fallen angel. Can she help him prove he didn't commit a terrible crime? Is she brave enough to love an angel?
Excerpt: Lukas was looking worse for wear.
Annelie had never seen him drink alcohol. She had often wondered why he came to her pub but stuck to soft drinks. Seeing him slowly sliding down towards the bar, his head propped up on his hand and his eyes closed, she was no longer surprised that he lay off the booze. He couldn’t handle it.
His scruffy sandy locks fell forwards when his head slipped from his hand and he jerked up. He rolled his eyes a few times while blinking and then pulled a face as he inspected the damp elbow of his black shirt and the wet bar where he had been leaning. A sigh lifted his shoulders and he stared at the half-full glass of whisky in front of him. Perhaps she should have cut him off after his third, but his charming smile had persuaded her to supply him with a fourth, and a fifth. She regretted it now. At the time, he had looked as though he would be fine. Now, he looked as though he was going to pass out.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have given him the first shot. What if he didn’t drink because he was an alcoholic and she had just ruined his recovery? She could never live with herself if that was the case.
She handed some change to a patron and walked along the length of the dark wooden bar to Lukas, neatening her appearance as she did so. She tugged the hem of her back baby-doll t-shirt down to sit smoothly along the waist of her black jeans, and combed her fingers through her long red hair. She always felt as though she looked like a mess when things got frantic behind the bar, and she wanted to look her best for Lukas.
The pub was quieter now that it was approaching closing time. A few regulars remained along with a group of people she didn’t recognise that sat in the corner near the old bay windows. She could finally speak to Lukas without interruption.
Annelie leaned on the damp bar opposite Lukas and swept his fair hair out of his eyes. He leaned away, almost fell off his stool, and then looked at her. She felt an all too familiar jolt when his green eyes met her brown ones and her heart fluttered in her chest when he smiled lopsidedly.
“You okay?” She went to take her hand away but he took hold of it, bringing it down to the bar and toying with her fingers.
His gaze fell there, a look of fascination entering his eyes, and she told herself not to read into it.
So what if this was the first bordering-on-intimate contact they’d had? So what if he had made her heart stop the moment he had first walked into her pub three years ago and it had stopped every time she had seen him since? It didn’t mean anything.
At least, it didn’t mean anything to him.
Sure, they had talked and whiled away the hours, and Lukas was an amazing listener and always seemed genuinely interested in her problems and helping her solve them, but he had never once shown any interest in her beyond friendship.
She wished that he would.
He was drop dead gorgeous. Six feet plus of masculine beauty. And she wanted to pounce on him whenever he walked through the door.
Which had been almost every other night until recently.
He had gone away for three long weeks without a word, leaving her wondering if something terrible had happened to him. Then the moment he walked back into her life, he hit the drink, hard.
Lukas didn’t answer her. His green gaze remained fixed on her hand and he turned it this way and that, his hands warm and gentle against hers. Her heart whispered that this was interest beyond friendship.
Someone stepped up to the bar at the far end and she waved to Andy to serve him. She couldn’t leave Lukas until she knew what was going on in his head and why he was suddenly drinking, or at least until she was sure he wasn’t about to fall off his stool and hurt himself.
Annelie bent lower so she could see his face. His gaze finally left her hand and met hers again, bright in the lights from the rows of drinks behind her.
“I said you okay?” She searched his eyes.
His pupils were wide. He raked his gaze down over her chest, fire following in its wake, and then back up to her face. It remained fixed there, as though he was studying her, intense and focused. A blush crept onto her cheeks.
“Hell of a week.” His reply was so quiet that she barely heard him.
“You’ve been gone three.”
His eyebrows rose. “Three?”
She nodded. He released her hand and ran his over the messy finger-length strands of his hair, preening it back. He brought his hand down, pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut.
“Hell of a three weeks.” Lukas smiled but she saw straight through it.
Something was up. Andy tried to call her over but she waved him away again. Andy had been tending bar long enough to handle problems on his own now. Lukas needed to talk. She had seen it the moment he had sat down tonight, but the pub had been so busy that she hadn’t been able to talk to him other than taking his order. He had never really spoken much about himself and the one time he needed to she hadn’t made time for him. He had always made time to listen to her. What sort of friend was she?
“I was wondering where you were.” Her tone was jest but her heart meant the words.
Lukas looked at her as though hearing that had made his day and then dropped his gaze to his drink. He ran his finger around the rim of the whisky glass and then sighed.
“Sorry about that.”
She never had been able to place his accent. It wasn’t British. She had asked him about it once and he had simply said that he had lived in many places. She had told him her whole life story and he hadn’t even told her where he was from. She was fine with that though. It added a sense of mystery to him that she liked.
He picked up his glass and she took it from him.
“I think you’ve had enough of that.” She tipped the contents away behind the bar and stashed the glass there. “How are you getting home tonight?”
He frowned, propped his head up on his palm, and closed his eyes. “The usual way.”
“I can’t let you drive.”
A smile curved his delicious lips. “I don’t drive. I fly.”
She laughed. “Well, I can’t let you drink and fly.”
He was drunk if he thought he could fly home.
Annelie covered his other hand with hers and he opened his eyes, their green depths meeting hers again. They were sharper now but not enough to satisfy her.
“I’ll give you a lift if you wait until we’ve closed.” Hopefully he would have sobered up a little by then and could direct her to his place. She had never seen him outside work before.
He stared into her eyes for what felt like hours and then nodded. Annelie took her hand back and smiled, relieved that he would wait for her. She didn’t want him going home alone and perhaps she could talk to him during the drive and find out why he was suddenly drinking.
The bar would close in twenty minutes but it would be at least another hour before she had finished cleaning up. She glanced back at Lukas. He rested his arm on the counter and used it as a pillow, his eyes closing. He hadn’t drunk that much, but it was still best that he slept it off. Andy would go home when the pub closed and she would be quiet while she counted the money and cleaned the place.
Before long, the pub was empty except for her and Lukas. Annelie tied her long red hair back into a ponytail and wiped the bar down, avoiding disturbing Lukas as he slept. She stopped by him and stared at his face. He looked so peaceful and gorgeous when asleep. She hesitated and then, with her heart in her mouth, brushed the tangled strands of his fair hair from his forehead. His lips parted and he murmured something. She smiled and brushed his skin again, lightly so he wouldn’t wake, but enough contact to make her feel a little giddy. When had she fallen for him? It had come on so slowly over the past three years that she hadn’t realised she had those sorts of feelings for Lukas until he had gone away, and then she had been worried that he wasn’t coming back.
But here he was again, at her bar in the same stool he always occupied, and she was happy to see him.
Even if he was asleep.
He stirred and blinked slowly, as though trying to wake himself.
Annelie didn’t take her hand back. She was feeling brave tonight.
“How are you feeling?” She combed her fingers through his hair.
Lukas frowned, his green eyes fixed on the distance, and then groaned. She took that as a negative answer.
“No better yet?”
He nodded, moving her hand with him, and she stroked the curve of his ear. A smile touched his lips and then faded again when he closed his eyes.
“I’m almost done. I’ll have you home soon.” She went to walk away but he caught her wrist, sat up, and looked at her with such earnest eyes that her heart beat harder.
“I ever tell you that you’re pretty?” Those words rocked her to her core. Her pulse raced and her throat turned dry. She shook her head and he reached out with his other hand and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. There was nothing but honesty and warmth in his eyes. They sparkled with it, looking brighter now even though the lights were lower, entrancing her. “Your beauty puts angels to shame.”
Annelie tried to convince herself that it was the drink talking. Tried and failed. She had worked in pubs since she was in her early twenties, almost ten years ago, and had run this one since her parents had retired early. She had enough experience to spot levels of inebriation. Lukas’s eyes were sharper and his words weren’t slurred. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He was definitely still tipsy, but that excuse didn’t hold with her heart. It believed him. He really did think that she was beautiful. She blushed. It burned her cheeks before she could get the better of herself. She worked at a bar. She was used to men telling her that she was beautiful at the end of the night, but the way Lukas said it, the fact that it was him, made her believe him.
“You really are.” His hand slipped from her cheek to her jaw and he grazed his fingers along the curve of it. He smiled and her heart thudded. He was beautiful. She had never seen a man like him, with such deep green eyes and a smile that could make her heart pound and body tremble. “Beautiful.”
“Hush.” She took his hand away from her face and held it a moment. “Quit making me blush, Lukas.”
His smile held. “I love the way you say my name. Say it again.”
Annelie rolled her eyes. “Lukas.”
“Not like that.” He drew his hand towards him, luring her with it, until she was close to him. She stared into his eyes, her mind racing forwards to contemplate things it shouldn’t be. He wasn’t going to kiss her. Even if he was looking more sober now, she couldn’t let things go down that avenue. “Say it like you mean it. Like you said it just then.”
Annelie looked deep into his eyes, lost in them and the way the flecks of pale gold seemed to shift and move against their emerald backdrop, and blinked slowly. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Lukas.”
“Mmm, that is more like it.” He pulled her closer and tilted his head.
Annelie broke free, pulse rocketing, and ignored the disappointed look on his face. She couldn’t kiss him, no matter how tempting it was.
“Let me finish cleaning and I’ll take you home.” She hurried away to the other end of the bar, not daring to look back at Lukas, not while she wanted to kiss him and was weak enough to go through with it.
By the time she had finished cleaning, Lukas was looking far more sober and he was watching her. Annelie could feel his eyes on her, following her around the room as she placed the chairs upside down on the tables. She would wash the floor in the morning before opening time.
She walked over to Lukas and he turned on the stool to face her. His eyes held fire that burned within her, enticing her to kiss him after all. She cleared her throat, averted her gaze, and nodded towards the door.
“Come on.” She didn’t wait for him to get down off the stool. She started towards the door and Lukas was soon beside her. She snuck a glance at him. He always looked good in the black shirt and jeans he wore. They hugged his figure just the right amount, giving subtle clues about how sexy the body they hid was and luring her into picturing him naked. Even when she shouldn’t be.
She closed the door behind him and locked up.
“You okay?” She pocketed her keys and started down the quiet dark road with him towards the car park at the back of the pub.
“I have been better.” He tilted his head back, staring up at the night sky, and sighed. There was such a look of melancholy in his eyes. What was he thinking?
“Where did you go, Lukas?” She took her car keys out of her pocket, turned the corner into the car park, and pressed the button on the fob. The lights on her small car flashed. “I really was worried about you.”
He stopped and looked at her. She turned and met his gaze, letting him see that she wasn’t just saying that. He had disappeared without a word and it had frightened her. She had missed him. He stepped up to her and touched her face again, his palm warm against her cheek. His eyes held hers and she swore she saw another flicker of affection in them.
“I had to go away. I should have told you, Annelie. I should not have worried you.” There was black magic in his voice and the way he said her name, soft but with an underlying note of passion, and she was under his spell. He stroked her cheek, sending a shiver through her, and smiled into her eyes. “I did not think I would be gone so long. I promise I will not do it again.”
Annelie told herself to break free but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. She wanted to stand there in the warm night, feeling hot from head to toe because of Lukas’s caress and the ardent look in his eyes. She wanted to believe that his words meant what she thought they did and that he liked her and things between them would be different now. She hadn’t looked at another man since Lukas had walked into her life, had dreamed the impossible of him falling for her, and now it felt as though the impossible was possible after all.
Lukas wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She stepped into his embrace, her heart thundering against her chest, and stared up into his eyes. His fingers stroked her neck, his thumb brushing over her chin and then under her jaw. He tilted her head back, his eyes fixed on hers, and lowered his mouth. She shivered when their lips met and then pressed her hands against his firm chest and melted into him as he kissed her. It started out slow, a bare meeting of lips, but before she could draw another breath, his mouth covered hers and he stole it away.
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Callum has come to the city of romance on business, not pleasure, but when he sets eyes on a gorgeous werewolf in a nightclub, he can’t ignore the dark carnal craving she ignites in him. His work for Vampirerotique, the erotic theatre he runs with three other vampires, can wait. The only thing that matters now is satisfying his sinful hunger for a woman who most vampires would consider an enemy. |
In a world of darkness and danger, Prophecy will fight to her limit to save the vampire she loves and stop a terrible evil from unleashing Hell on Earth. When her visions show her the dark path they must take, will Prophecy and Valentine be able to do what is necessary to win against the mounting threat of a mysterious enemy? | 
The horror of the night he failed to save his werewolf pack from the cruelty of their vampire masters has haunted Nicolae for one hundred years, driving him deep into the Canadian wilderness in search of peace. That peace is threatened when unfamiliar hunters and the scent of blood lead him to a beautiful vampire and a hard decision—face his past and help her or risk losing everyone again.
Excerpt: The hunters maintained their silence as they wove through the woods, giving Nicolae difficulty. It was hard to move without making a sound when the leaf litter was so deep and crisp. He placed each paw carefully, moving with stealth and keeping far enough away that they wouldn’t hear him.
“I still say that she went up,” one of the men whispered after they had been walking for over twenty minutes and Nicolae caught sight of the leader through the dense tree trunks.
The man held his hand up in a fist and the group halted. Nicolae stopped too, one paw in the air. It trembled with the exertion of holding it there. He gradually lowered it to the ground, holding his breath as he did so, and then exhaled when none of the hunters looked his way. The leader turned towards the man who had spoken and something silent passed between them.
Nicolae knew a threat when he felt it. It seemed the man who had spoken did too because he bent his head and remained silent as the group continued down towards the glade. Nicolae reached out with his senses, searching for both the wolf pack and the prey of the hunters. Could it be a bear?
They had talked about her being quick. Bears were fast when they had to be. He’d been on the receiving end of a few charges in his lifetime. They weren’t as fast as wolves though.
He sensed the timber wolf pack on the grazing land far below. The alpha howled and Nicolae paid him no heed, only using the sound to confirm their position on his senses was correct. He couldn’t feel any other animals besides a few birds and small creatures. The high-tech crossbows these men were packing said that they weren’t after prey smaller than a wolf, not unless they enjoyed a challenge. Even then, they would probably go after big game. Hunting large animals with only a bow would be more exciting and dangerous. A challenge most hunters would relish. Which brought him back around to bears.
The men stopped a few hundred metres up the mountain from the glade. Their leader raised his goggles, looked towards the rugged horizon, and then turned towards the other three.
“She might have gone to ground.” It was the one who had almost seen him. The leader looked thoughtful, his face shadowed and difficult to make out.
Two of the men he hadn’t got a good look at earlier were in broken moonlight now, their night-vision goggles pushed up on their foreheads. They were young, one of them around his late twenties and the other into his thirties. Nicolae suspected it had been the youngest man who had sounded scared. The other one had a hard set to his jaw and coldness in his eyes. The sort of look a man got after seeing a lot of death.
Nicolae had that look sometimes.
“I shot her.” There was certainty in the man’s gravelly voice. None of the others looked as though they were about to doubt him.
Nicolae sniffed, trying to catch a scent on the chill air. If they had shot whatever animal they were after, then it would be bleeding. He would be able to track it.
“The poison will take care of her in that case.”
Nicolae froze. Poison? He looked at the bolts loaded in the crossbows. Just what was it they had shot and now wanted to find? Hunters didn’t normally poison their prey.
Not unless their prey was strong enough to survive arrows and bullets and come after them. He shook that thought away. There was no reason for him to get jittery. In the century he had lived in the area, not once had anyone attacked the werewolves.
“I don’t want to risk it. I want to find her.” The leader this time.
The alpha wolf howled again and Nicolae listened.
Blood.
They were hunting something.
Nicolae tensed, torn between breaking cover and heading down to see what the wolves had smelt, and remaining to listen to the men and ensure they left the mountain.
He raised his nose to the breeze and sniffed. He could smell it now, sharp and coppery, coming up from the valley.
A bolt zipped past him, thudding into a tree barely inches from his nose. Nicolae ran, keeping his rear down and weaving through the narrow gaps between the trees to cover himself. Another bolt narrowly missed him.
“Don’t waste ammo unless you’re sure it’s what we’re here after,” the leader said.
Nicolae pounded through the forest, away from the men and down towards the valley. He picked up the scent of blood and followed the trail. It grew stronger, fresh and sharp in the clear air, cutting through it. He sniffed the ground at intervals, trying to see if the animal had bled onto it so he could investigate the scent and determine what sort of creature it was.
The pine trees grew dense around him as he neared the glade. Their scent obscured the subtler one of the blood, making it impossible for him to tell what it belonged to. It didn’t smell animal.
It wasn’t werewolf.
He rounded a tree and spotted something in the clearing ahead.
Human.
The timber wolves broke out of the woods on the other side to Nicolae, heading for the body. His heart slammed against his ribs and he crashed through the undergrowth and out into the glade. He dashed across the open ground, passing the body, and leapt into the group, snarling and snapping at them, driving them back. His teeth clashed with those of the more persistent wolves but he was careful not to draw blood. His attack wasn’t about hurting them. It was purely to force them to leave the human alone. It was to protect them. If they ate the body, the locals would hunt them down and slaughter them all. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
The alpha growled.
The rest of the pack cowered, lowering their rears and bowing their heads. Some of the younger ones at the back whimpered and whined.
The grey alpha came forward, smaller than Nicolae but bigger than the other wolves, and stared at him.
Nicolae breathed hard and held the alpha’s yellow gaze.
The pack was hungry. With winter setting in, it was important that they fed well, but he couldn’t allow them to harm this human. The alpha didn’t move. Nicolae could understand his need to protect his pack and provide for them.
He huffed, turning the air misty for a second with his warm breath, and then came to a decision. He looked deep into the alpha’s eyes, communicating with him alone. He would hunt and leave them a deer at his cabin in exchange for the human. Was that acceptable?
The alpha wolf stared at him a moment longer and then turned and trotted silently into the forest. The pack followed.
Nicolae huffed again.
He would do as he had promised and give them a deer as soon as he could go out and hunt. During harsher winters, he often provided for them. Wolves were a proud race, just like their werewolf brethren, but this pack no longer took offence at his offerings.
Nicolae knew the pain of not being able to provide for the pack, of failing in his duty to protect them, and because of those experiences he knew that he had asked a lot of the alpha tonight. He was grateful the wolf had chosen to accept the deer and, to show it, he would find the largest one he could.
He turned and sniffed his way back to the human. She lay on the leaf litter, motionless and pale. Covered in blood. It had a strange smell. Some part of it was human but the scent was different, familiar. Was it the poison that made it smell so wrong?
The woman’s eyes were closed, her fair hair spread across the ground in a golden wave. Moonlight shone down into the glade, the bare branches of the trees splitting it into bright shafts that bathed her. He sniffed again and listened. No heartbeat but he couldn’t be sure. Twin darts punctured her black fatigues, one in the left of her chest, up from her heart, and the second in the right side of her stomach. Could she have survived that?
He caught the scent of the hunters on the darts.
Why had they killed her?
She was dressed like them.
Nicolae listened again for a pulse. None came.
There were some things that he couldn’t do as a wolf. He shuffled back a few paces to give himself more room and then focused. His bones popped and body twisted, the black fur on it slowly disappearing as he transformed back into his normal form. He grimaced and growled quietly, containing his pain for fear of alerting the hunters to his presence. He wasn’t sure if they had gone and he wasn’t sure if the woman was dead. He couldn’t let either of them know what he was. His ribs stretched and his limbs cracked back into human forms still covered in patches of fur. It swept backwards, towards his shoulders, revealing deformed fingers that pushed out into normal shapes. His muzzle compressed, his teeth receding, and he moved onto his hind legs, standing with a wobble. Pain ripped down his spine with the final shift of his bones beneath his now human skin, and he bit back his desire to throw his head back and scream out his agony.
Nicolae clenched his fists and breathed deep, waiting with closed eyes for the pain to pass and his heartbeat to level again.
Centuries of life as a werewolf and whenever he spent too long in his animal form, he still felt the pain as he had during the first change.
The moment it subsided, he crouched beside the woman, naked and unashamed. He touched her throat. She was cold and he couldn’t feel a pulse. Dead.
He ran his hand over his messy dark hair and frowned, thinking over what he should do.
His gaze assessed the two darts. Blood saturated the black material around them. He touched it, brought his fingers to his nose, and sniffed. He could smell the poison. Strong. Why had the hunters killed her? If he had found her before coming across the hunters, he would have said they had belonged to the same party. Only this woman wasn’t armed.
Nicolae looked around the clearing for a weapon.
When he looked back at the woman, she was staring at him with dark eyes.
Her left fist flew towards him.
Nicolae rolled backwards into a crouch, barely avoiding the punch. She lunged, trying to grab him, gasping and wheezing. Blood pumped from around the arrow in her abdomen. The dart must have punctured her lung.
His gaze met hers again and he froze. The words of warning to keep still fled his lips.
Fiery orange eyes pinned him with the deadliest of stares.
Nocens.
She bore her fangs and Nicolae backed away, his eyes still locked with hers, panic sending an icy wave through his blood.
What was a vampire of the Nocens bloodline doing in Canada?
She snarled and then slumped backwards, hitting the dirt hard. Nicolae didn’t move. He couldn’t tell if she was dead or not but he wasn’t about to risk his neck by checking her. His gaze darted between the arrows. There was a lot of blood on her, and around the glade. The arrows were poisoned. He dragged in a shaky breath.
The scent of her blood hit him and, now that he knew why he recognised it, he couldn’t bear the smell.
Nicolae shook his head at the first assault of memories, desperate to keep them at bay. He wasn’t there now. He was free. He had paid for it in blood and death, but he was free. The images came, relentless, horrifying visions of violence and pain, punishment in dark barred corridors, screams that echoed through the entire compound. He fell forwards, breathing hard, clawing the dirt into his fists and holding on. Cries. Blood. The sting of the whip against his back. He arched forwards and growled, his teeth elongating. The laughter of his cruel masters. His neck burned, aching under the pressing weight of an iron collar. The humiliation of his brethren.
Blood ran in a fetid river before his eyes, trickling over damp dark stones and along the gutter in front of the cells, mixing with faeces and urine. Shackles clanked in the dim light. Bars rattled under the duress of a fruitless attack by a prisoner.
He wasn’t there.
Nicolae yelled his rage at the starlit sky. It burst from him, desperate and feral in its sound, and echoed around the distant mountains. A disconsolate howl from the valley answered him. The alpha. The sound of it and the message it contained soothed him and granted him relief. He shut the pain down, clearing his mind of the past and focusing on the present, but there was no comfort in it now.
His gaze snapped to the vampire.
He pushed himself back onto his feet and stood over her, staring with hatred burning in his gut. The hunters were still searching for her, and it wouldn’t be long before they reached where he was. They would finish her off. If she managed to survive both the hunters and the poison until daybreak, then nature would take care of her. The sky was clear. When the sun rose, it would spill into the glade. She wouldn’t be strong enough to escape it. Her kind deserved to feel pain.
He would never involve himself with vampires.
He strode away from her.
No matter how beautiful they were.
That thought arrested his steps. He frowned over his shoulder at her. The cold air curled around him, chilling and stiffening his bare body. He stared at the vampire and then at the horizon through the trees, and realised with self-loathing that he wasn’t strong enough to do it. As much as he despised her kind, he wasn’t a monster like them. She wasn’t the same bloodline as the ones who had enslaved him. She had done nothing to deserve his bitterness. If he left her, it would plague him and he would regret it. If he needed a reason to help her, he would do it for the sake of information about the hunters. They had to be the reason that she was so far from home.
Nicolae went back to her. She looked small and fragile as she lay on the dirt. Her appearance belied her true nature but it couldn’t fool his senses. When she had come around, he had felt her strength. Was she strong enough to fight the poison? He placed his palm against her forehead. She wasn’t burning up yet. If the poison was the type most vampire hunters used, then there was still time to help her.
Part of him said to leave her. Her kind had given him nothing but pain. She should feel it in return.
He couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing. Watching a dying vampire succumb to the sun and poison would be a petty form of vengeance. His heart had let go of his desire for revenge almost fifty years ago now, cleansed by his quiet life in the wilderness. Only the nightmarish memories kept it alive in him.
Nicolae sighed and picked her up, shifting her into his arms and cradling her against his bare chest in a way that didn’t disturb the bolts. If she woke again, he would drop her in a flash and distance himself. He doubted that she would though. She had probably used the last of her strength fighting him.
Was he really going to do this? If he brought her into his home, if he helped her heal, then he would be helping the enemy.
In times of war, it was acceptable to help the enemy of your enemy. The hunters had tried to kill her. They were a threat to everything he had built here, and everyone that he knew.
He had to help her.
Even when he knew it would place him in danger.
The hunters were after her.
They would be after him too now.
|
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Serenity is shocked when a gorgeous black-winged angel shows up in her city of Paris claiming that she called him when she was only casting a simple vengeance spell. He's no other than the angel of death! When Apollyon offers to obey her and help her have revenge on her cheating ex, she can't resist the temptation, but can she resist him? Can an angel ever fall for a mortal woman like her? |
Javier knows better than to succumb to his hunger for Lilah. The mortal female belongs to a powerful aristocrat patron of Vampirerotique, the theatre he runs with three other vampires. A single touch is all it would take to break the sacred law of his kind, sentencing himself to death, but his passion for her has become too fierce to ignore and he will risk everything to make Lilah his.
Excerpt: The human women sat down on the two red leather couches positioned in the middle of the stage, one on each. Crimson spotlights bathed them, making them look as though blood covered their skin. In perfect synchronisation, the broad bare male vampires crouched before their woman, lifted the opposite leg to each other and started to kiss along it from ankle to knee.
It wasn’t turning her on.
Lilah told herself it a thousand times over but the sight of the vampire couple fornicating at the front of the stage and the forced seduction happening behind them had her heart pounding and her nipples hardening against the tight top of her uniform dress.
“I need to question you about Victor.” Javier’s deep accented voice coming from behind her caused her to drop her broom and turn.
She panted hard, startled and trying to get her arousal under control so he wouldn’t sense it.
His dark brown gaze slid to the stage and then back to her.
Lilah quickly bent to pick up her broom. When she straightened, Javier’s eyes were on her dress, his pupils wide in the low light coming up from below. The moans on stage grew louder and she tried to ignore them and push the images of the couples out of her mind.
“Why did you hit Victor?” Javier said, more composed than she was. Didn’t the show affect him at all? He had crossed the theatre without pausing to watch and his eyes were fixed on her now. She had heard that he and his partners had been running the theatre for almost a century. He had probably grown immune to whatever was playing out on the stage.
“Because he was hurting Nia.” It came out blunter than she had intended and she added, “Sir.”
Javier’s eyebrow rose. “Victor said you had no grounds to strike him.”
“Then he’s a liar and a bastard.”
“He’s an elite.” The darkness in his tone was reprimand enough to Lilah. She bowed her head.
“My apologies.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Javier so she glanced to one side when she brought her head back up. It was a mistake. The act on stage was getting hotter, with the two humans now kneeling on the couches and swallowing the rigid cocks of their partners as they stood before them. She ripped her gaze away and closed her eyes, figuring it was safer. That way she didn’t risk seeing the anger in Javier’s eyes or the debauchery on stage, and she could keep a clear head. “He was forcing himself on Nia and she told him to stop. When he didn’t, I hit him. I thought he might stop and block me.”
“He said Nia was cut. He was under the influence of his hunger. That is why he didn’t stop.”
That made sense. “Nia cut her hand on some glass. A mirror in the main dressing room had broken. We had to clean it up and she cut herself.”
He muttered a ripe curse in Spanish and stepped towards her. “Were you cut?”
Lilah opened her eyes, looked up into the dark pools of his, and shook her head. “No.”
The relief that swamped his eyes surprised her and sent fear into her blood. What if she had been the one to cut herself? Would Victor have tried to touch her and taste her instead? Would Nia have tried to stop him or would she have let him hurt her?
“You must be more careful around our kind,” Javier said and she nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes off his.
The moans from the stage grew louder and she blushed when Javier looked towards the performance.
“Will I be punished?” She tried to shut out the sounds. Javier’s gaze returned to her and he shook his head.
“Victor overstepped the line.” He frowned and turned quiet for so long that she couldn’t ignore the noises coming from the stage. She glanced across at them. Javier’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you like to watch them?”
Her eyes shot wide and she instantly shook her head. He stepped closer, slid his hand over her jaw in a way that had her shivering and her breath quaking, and carefully turned her face towards the stage. His thumb and fingers remained against her face, holding her gently, warming her down to her bones and causing a flood of arousal to sweep through her.
He traced his hand down her throat and stepped up behind her. What was he doing? She trembled under his touch, anticipating pain from it but feeling nothing but pleasure.
“Does it arouse you when you watch them fucking?” he breathed into her ear and she shivered, her eyelids dropping, a ripple of shock running over her skin at hearing him say such a thing.
“I don’t watch them,” she whispered, her voice barely there.
“You were watching them when I arrived.” He ran his thumb up her throat and claimed her jaw again. How long had he been watching her before he had said something and torn her attention away from the show? Had he enjoyed watching her while she watched the performance, unaware of his presence and his eyes on her? The thought that he might have sent heat into her blood that pooled in her abdomen, tightening it with arousal.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the show now but she wasn’t taking any of it in. All of her focus was on Javier where he stood behind her, so close that his hip was against her bottom. Why was he doing this? Why wasn’t it hurting her? Was there no pleasure in his touch, no sense of desire inside him as he ran his hands over her throat and pressed his body close to hers?
Lilah sharply turned her head towards him. He was so close to her that his breath skated over her lips, her chin touching his cheek. The darkness of desire in his eyes was unmistakable. There was hunger in his touch, in the way he forced her to face the stage again, clutching her jaw and lowering his mouth to her throat.
He drew in a long shaky breath and pressed his brow against the side of her head. “You smell so good… such a temptation.”
He wanted her. Her knees weakened beneath her, legs going slack at the feel of him pressed against her back, his hands firm on her body.
Lilah’s breathing quickened and she stared at the three couples on stage, her heart racing and blood thundering. Javier reached around her and slid his hand over hers where it gripped the pole of the broom. He took it from her and let it fall to the ground as he pressed soft kisses to her bare shoulder and the nape of her neck. They tickled, sending shiver after shiver through her, dizzying her.
This was so wrong.
But that only made it feel more right.
She had wanted him for so long, had craved the feel of his hands on her body, ached to know what it would feel like to be with him. She had never thought it possible though, had thought her bond to Lord Ashville would prevent it and pain her if she accepted the touch of the man she desired with all of her heart.
Javier licked the nape of her neck near her hairline, teasing her, and she couldn’t stop herself from arching her backside into him. He groaned and cursed softly in her ear, kissing it and nibbling it with blunt teeth.
“Watch them,” he whispered into her ear and licked the lobe, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. “Keep watching them while I touch you.”
She nodded and bit back a groan when he slid his hands down over her stomach and then around to her backside, palming it through her short dress. He suckled the lobe of her ear and then kissed her throat and ran his hands up her sides, pressing them in hard as he passed over her ribs. He cupped her breasts and stepped into her. The feel of his erection against her bottom sent a new hot flood of arousal pooling between her thighs. Was this really happening? She felt as though she was imagining it, as though it was a fevered fantasy brought on by watching the show and seeing him crossing the theatre towards her. It didn’t feel real.
“You cannot deny me this,” he uttered into her ear and she trembled at the command in his tone, the hunger that roughened it. “I will have you.”
| 
It was one last mission. Shannon, a hunter, is desperate to ditch the small town and her vampire partner, Rafe. Things are getting complicated and she wants out, but Rafe isn't about to let the woman he's fallen for go so easily. Can Rafe make her see that he loves her and make her face her feelings? Will a wish on a star bring Shannon what her heart truly desires--a vampire for Christmas? |
Thanks for participating in Felicity's Winter Warmers promo, Amanda! I read Hunter's Moon a while back, and I just LOVE Heaton's werewolves. That excerpt was a nice trip down memory lane. And, of course you can't go wrong with Loren & Olivia from Kissed by a Dark Prince. :)
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