Stranded in another dimension, on a primitive version of Earth, Dr. Susan Barlow needs to find a way to survive. There’s no electricity, no cities, and to her shock, no humans. Instead, she faces a population of werewolves, vampires and incubi. The people are vicious but she must find her place among them. And live.
An illness is killing Sorin’s pack. As alpha it’s his responsibility to save them, but it’s a battle this warrior doesn’t know how to fight. Then a blue light in the sky brings a creature he’s never seen. She calls herself human, but to him she smells like hope.
Sorin offers Susan a safe haven in return for a cure, but she’s not that kind of a doctor. She’s a doctor of physics, not a physician. Yet as they search for a cure to save a dying people, they find something special—each other.
After twenty years, Kele can finally change into wolf shifter form. By tooth and claw, she’s determined to climb the Payami pack hierarchy one challenge at a time until she’s the alpha. Except her parents arrange her marriage to a werewolf from a rival pack. Nobody cares that her heart’s already been stolen by the most unsuitable wolf possible—Peder. She’d gladly runaway with him but he stopped answering her letters and disappeared.
Peder spends every moment of his forced separation from Kele training to be a hunter. Learning to fight and be the type of wolf shifter she deserved. When he hears of Kele’s arranged marriage, he fears he’s waited too long. But he isn’t giving up. He’ll fight for her even if it means his life.
On his journey to confront her future mate, Peder is attacked and wakes in a cage, helpless as a band of vampires attack Kele’s mating party. Separated by social standing, thrown together by tragedy, they must work together to survive. And find out if their attraction is merely puppy love, or a bond that’s stronger than time.
Awe and Isnay have been secretly flirting, but they can’t be together because their wolf packs have been rivals for ages. Neither of their alphas will bless the union.
Is desire to follow pack law stronger than their desire for each other?
Sandra’s sister is dying. Doctors say nothing can be done, but she refuses to give up hope. She has depleted all their resources searching for a cure, when a little bird whispers in Sandra’s ear about secret worlds, gates, and the keepers who protect them. A dragon gatekeeper, who hoards magical treasure within his volcano home in Japan, possibly owns an item capable of curing her sister.
Gates choose their keepers, and Koishi thinks his did an excellent job in picking him. Not many dare to cross, and none who try survive. However, one tiny human female with either the courage of an army or the intelligence of a gnat has arrived on the island asking for him. Curious, he waits for the locals to steer her to his human servant—actually him, in man form.
Werewolves believe in soul mates. Sirens eat theirs.
Sirens, a mutation of mermaids, need sexual energy to survive. Marie Laframboise lost her only food source when her strip club burned down. Not wanting to kill any of her victims, she’d learned to glean the lust off her clients, and now she is starving. She can’t resist the temptation to invite herself to the singles shifter party held by local werewolf stud, Maxwell Cox, and feed.
Max doesn’t want a soul mate, but to his dismay, she shows up at his party. Just as Marie can’t resist the temptation to feed, Max can’t resist the instinctual urge to claim her. Marie has never wanted a relationship, but she can’t shake off Max’s pursuit. He offers her things she has only dreamed of, but she fears the hunger will turn those dreams into nightmares.
Her appetite is not one to mess with. Max thinks he’s found the perfect mate, but Marie may have found the perfect prey.
Ian’s alpha tosses him out of his car at a training camp for worthless and weak wolf shifters run by a crazy vampire. His only choice is to escape and go lone wolf. Until he runs into Clare…
She actually volunteered for this gig. Her wolf is all alpha but it’s crammed into a petite package, and she definitely has no mercy when it comes to him.
The work is hard. The training dangerous. Surviving is optional. Clare can’t stand Ian’s disregard for her authority and he hates her driven ambition. Sparks fly and teeth are bared. Opposites attract they say.
Guns, knives, nunchakus, throwing stars, he’s deadly with all of them.
While all seems set for him to pass his upcoming boot camp armory exam, life quickly becomes complicated when curvy, outspoken Julia invades his personal space.
If she doesn’t pass the weapons test, she’ll be sent home and forced into an arranged mating.
That will happen over his dead body.
He has three days to teach her, but she can’t hit the side of a barn in broad daylight with a laser guided missile.
To make matters worse, her intended mate makes an unannounced visit. He’s rich and suave. Everything Darrell isn’t.
Pity Darrell is determined to get in the way of his plans.
Three days to reach the summit and retrieve the flag.
Those who drop out go home.
The bootcamp’s alpha asks Alistair to protect their omega wolf, Penny.
All they have are the clothes on their back when the worst storm of the winter hits.
But it’s got nothing on Penny.
No shifter has ever torn Alistair open or exposed him like her, all with the razor edge of her tongue.
Forget the blizzard, the real danger is the sharp curve of her smile and the lengths he’ll go to get a taste.
Pallas comes from the deadliest vampire clan that ever existed.
Spent centuries transforming wolf shifters into warriors.
People trembled at his name.
Now, he runs a boot camp for misfit werewolves.
Everything is coming together. His life, the pack, and their community.
Then the police finds a corpse on his land.
Drained of blood.
His only hope of proving his innocence is the sheriff.
The woman of his dreams with a warrior’s heart.
But she hates him.
Only a vampire is strong enough to teach werewolves how to fight.
After a turbulant childhood, Sugar strives for a peaceful life. That goal is difficult when her neighbors turn furry and howl at the moon. They are not the regular chest pounding, make your blood curl kind of werewolves though. She’d have moved. More like the geeks of the underworld, and Chicago’s premier wolf pack has issued them a life or death challenge. Their only option for survival? Hire a vampire warrior for combat training.
Life is bound to grow more complicated now that a hot vampire lives next door.
Eric strode into Sugar’s living room holding an envelope. “I found the solution to our problem.”
Sugar uncurled her legs from under her and sat straighter as she watched Eric’s lanky form approach. They had both survived growing-up in the same low-income neighborhood. Friendship forged in such fires never died.
He handed her a letter and joined the rest of his small, self-proclaimed werewolf pack lounging on her mismatched furniture.
Sugar scanned the front then the back. “Pal Robi Incorporated.” She read the sender’s name out loud. “What’s this?”
“It’s our salvation.” Eric gestured to pack mates and leaned forward in his seat. “Read it to everyone.”
She glanced at him with a questioning look. What was he up to? Eric had been unusually quiet and reserved since he and other shifters had told her about their problem. Sliding her fingernail under the corner, she tore it open. The paper felt heavy and thick with a huge company emblem embossed at the top left-hand corner. Expensive. An errant blond curl slid in front of her eyes and she shoved it back behind her ear.
To the Omega pack:
I have reviewed the details of your plight. Pal Robi Incorporated deals mostly in security issues, but I find your problem worthy of my personal attention. Enclosed you will find a non-negotiable contract. Please review it closely, and have your signatures notarized. The return fax number is listed on the contract so proceedings can begin. Mail the original to the office. Thank you for your business.
Sincerely,
Daedalus Pal Robi
“A contract? Don’t tell me you hired a hit man.” She wouldn’t put it past him. They were desperate and shifters followed the law of the wild, not the rules human authorities tried to shackle them with.
The wolf shifters responded to her outburst with low growls directed at Eric.
What had she gotten herself tangled in? She wasn’t pack. She was a plain vanilla human. No super strength or amazing healing abilities, just a woman with werewolves as neighbors and the inability to say no when they asked her for help. Maybe that was her super power? If it was, it sucked.
“What kind of person do you think I am?” Eyes wide, Eric held his hands out in front of him. “Mr. Pal Robi is offering to teach us how to fight.”
Sugar tilted her head as she surveyed her friend and sighed. This again. “Yeah, probably for a substantial fee. How can you afford this?” They barely made rent every month. Since becoming a shifter, Eric thought with his heart first, then his dick, and finally his brain. It kept getting him in trouble. Like this vampire and fighting thing.
Eric looked at his pack. She used that term loosely because technically calling them a pack was what placed them in this situation in the first place. He pleaded with his eyes. “Before you make any judgments, let’s have Sugar read the contract out loud.”
She held it in front of her and took a deep breath. Here went everything. “This is an agreement between Pal Robi Incorporated and Eric, Sam, Katrina, Tyler, and Robert, from here forward to be known as the Omegas.” She rolled her eyes. This so-called trainer gave them a name. She read the rest to them.
Scope:
Pal Robi Inc. will provide to the Omegas, training in defense, hand-to-hand combat and small weapons use.
Training will take place for the duration of the period beginning with the trainer’s arrival until the challenge date.
Combat training is inherently dangerous. Pal Robi Inc. is not responsible for injury or death sustained during such training.
Trainer will not intentionally hurt and-or kill any Omega during the period of this agreement.
Responsibilities of the Omegas:
Omegas will provide trainer from Pal Robi with appropriate lodgings.
Omegas will provide daylight security of said trainer.
Omegas will submit to the direction of the trainer without question for the duration of the training.
Fees:
Omegas agree to pay Pal Robi Inc. the agreed upon fee in cash prior to the beginning of training.
In addition, Omegas will provide the trainer with fresh, consumable blood upon request.
She gave the contract a slow blink, then continued out of habit while her mind fought off denial and allowed that last bit to sink in.
Penalties:
Failure to provide payment renders this agreement null and void.
Failure to abide by the terms specified represents a breach of contract which renders the agreement null and void.
Breach of contract will result in an immediate investigation. Vengeance will be swift and unmerciful.
Sugar reread the last line to herself then placed the contract on her lap. Huh. Blood and unmerciful vengeance. In a legal and binding contract? Cold claws of fear gripped her stomach. “You hired a vampire?” The soft question shattered the quiet weighing heavily on the room. How had Eric, an omega werewolf, made contact with a vampire? Better yet, why had Eric contacted a vampire? Her head pounded and she fought the urge to tear the letter into confetti.
Eric stood and faced his pack mates, staring at each one in turn. “How can we not hire him? The Ayumu pack officially challenged us. One of us has to fight and beat one of their alphas in a month. There’s no other way.”
Someone is about to get some Spice in his life.
Spice returns to Chicago searching for her estranged identical twin, Sugar. Instead, she discovers Eric living in her younger (by six minutes) sister’s house. The once nerd-next-door has grown into the kind man that makes a woman’s knees grow weak…and he’s offering to sleep on the couch so she can stay at the house.
Eric can’t believe Spice has returned. He’d given up hope of ever seeing her again, let alone having her stare at him like a tall glass of water on a hot Sahara day. But he has a secret, he’s the Alpha of Chicago’s werewolf pack. How does he explain that he’s been searching for his mate and he thinks he’s found her?
Tyler followed Eric into the kitchen with Robert and Sam in tow. “What’s wrong with you, Eric? You almost lost control of your beast.”
Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to hide the blush heating his cheeks. Spice is home. He’d lost hope of ever seeing her again. The desire in her eyes when he loosened her jacket and the smell from her pussy set his beast-side on a craze. I, Eric Turner, the geek next door, turned her on. The sexiest, most confident girl he’d ever met, his high school obsession.
“Sorry, she took me off guard.” He looked at Robert, his calm, overly serious second in command of the pack, who shook his head at him. “Damn, I almost changed in front of her. What a disaster.” Eric’s mouth went dry.
Sam handed him a glass of water. If anyone understood losing control of his beast, it was him. Ever since the Omegas conquered the Ayumu werewolf pack, their females kept knocking on the door. The bodybuilder had trouble refusing them, and his beast liked the attention. He didn’t completely transform mid-intercourse anymore but they heard his howls.
Eric needed to stop thinking of the pack as Ayumu. They were all Omegas now and he their alpha. The sip of water he tried to swallow went down the wrong way and blocked his windpipe. Nothing came out, not a cough and not a breath.
“Eric?” Sam asked.
Katrina scurried into the kitchen. “I make tea. You want some?” She stopped. “What is wrong with Eric?”
He coughed out a manly squeak and pointed to his throat.
Redheaded Tyler pushed pass Sam and pounded on his back.
Not a moment later Spice sashayed into the room. Even in his distress, her presence drew him like a magnet to iron.
A solid smack on his back set off a cough. He expelled the water from his throat, and it landed on her generous, rounded chest.
She stood with arms out at her sides, and her mouth hung open.
“Smooth, real smooth.” Sam patted him on the shoulder and exited the room. The others followed in silence but a few seconds later, Eric heard their restrained laughter from the direction of the living room.
He grabbed a dish towel from the rack by the sink and raced over to her. “I’m sorry.” Without a coherent thought in his scrambled brain, he dried her tight, white sweater.
Tension in her shoulders as he bent over to stroke around her curves clued him in that he’d done another boneheaded maneuver.
Her intense stare weakened his knees as he glanced up with her breast cupped in his hand. The urge to fondle it sent a shiver up his spine, but the ingrained gentleman inside of him beat down the beast, who wanted more than just a touch.
He jerked his hand away. “Sorry.” Alphas shouldn’t apologize that much. Daedalus would kick his ass if he heard him.
Eric straightened and swept the annoying hair out of his eyes. Why did he decide to let it grow? Who cared if all those guys in romance books had long freaking hair?
“Don’t be.” She gave him a small, seductive smile.
He kept waiting for this wet dream to end.
“Who’s Daedalus?”
Nothing more deflating to a man’s ego than to ask about the resident stud vampire. “Sugar’s boyfriend.”
“The one she has to ask permission to cut her hair. Then you’re not together?”
“No.” That question showed how much she paid attention to them as kids. He and Sugar had been best friends since sixth grade. Dating her would be like dating a sister. Even though they were identical twins, Spice got placed in a different category from Sugar. She topped the list for the five-finger-knuckle-shuffle when he needed it.
She leaned closer and ran her finger down his chest. It left a trail of heat along his skin. “What’s happened since I left two years ago?” Gesturing around the room, she raised an eyebrow. “New house, new boyfriend, new friends, and…” She stepped to press against his body and gazed at him with green sparkling eyes. “New Eric.”
Where did he start? We hired a Nosferatu vampire to teach us how to fight about a year ago, who by the way, is banging your twin sister. Oh yeah, all of us are werewolves, except Sugar, and I defeated the local alpha in a fight to the death so it made me top wolf in Chicago.
“Nothing much. We pay rent to Sugar and live here.” The old Eric she referred to still resided inside of him. He still liked Star Trek, ‘live long and prosper,’ worked from home for a computer software company, and read as much as Sugar.
His heart twisted a little. She didn’t like him; she liked the changes the beast made inside of him. After the werewolf attack, his eyesight returned to twenty-twenty. He got stronger and faster, which meant leaner and more muscular.
She moved back and placed her hands on her hips. “Six of you live under this roof?”
“Seven. Daedalus lives here too.”
Shaking her head, she grinned and looked at the floor. “Unbelievable.”
He heard the front door open and close. “I’ve got Thai.” Sugar’s voice, higher and more musical than Spice’s, called out.
“What’s going on?” Daedalus must have given her a ride from work. “Why are you guys so serious?”
Three days of hell, in charge, and running out of antacids.
As the pack’s Beta, Robert needs to watch over the Vasi werewolf pack for a few days. He hates the responsibility, but his job is to dissolve any problems while his alphas are on their honeymoon. Nevertheless, trouble comes to town and her name is Esther. She’s beguiling, beautiful and picks his pocket. Although Robert doesn’t trust her, he still wants to possess her.
Esther arrived in Chicago with the intention of slaying a vampire named Daedalus. While trailing her quarry, she encounters Robert who unhinges her world. He doesn’t know her trade, and she doesn’t know his connection to the vampire. Disturbed by her attraction to this unusual werewolf, she can’t decide which prey to hunt. The one who’s stolen her heart or the one who’ll fill her bank account.
Another man exited the building not long after the vampire. He wore a rumpled button-down, short-sleeved shirt tucked into loose jeans. His mouse brown hair cried for a cut and a comb.
He pushed his glasses up his nose and bent to tie his running shoes.
Recognizing him as the person who had accompanied Daedalus earlier, Esther heard opportunity knocking. He didn’t look like a threat being thin and weak. She crossed the street and approached him from behind. “Excuse me. Do you have the time?”
Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze traveled along her bare legs, to her knee length loose skirt, and finally met her stare. Her breath caught in her throat. The irises of his eyes reflected a non-existent light and shone pale amber. He blinked and it vanished, must have been the glasses that gave such a strange effect.
He rose in a single fluid motion that set her predator alarm off. Checking his cellphone, he gave her a shy smile. “It’s ten after two.” He scanned the area around them. “This is a dangerous part of town, ma’am. You shouldn’t walk around alone. Trouble is going to find you.”
Or maybe find him. She eyed his wiry arms and changed her assessment of him. Lean, tight muscles slid under his skin as he moved. He wasn’t weak, more like a cross between a martial artist and a geek.
“Are you offering to walk me home?” Flashing him her most flirtatious smile, she toyed with a piece of her hair.
He swallowed. “S-sure.” Shuffling to her side, he fell in next to her, eyes darting around them.
Men were so easy to manipulate, but this one actually wanted to protect her. So cute, she could have pinched him. Trying to be discreet, she took quick peeks at him. Nice strong chin and straight nose. Maybe a hint of freckles? It was difficult to tell in the dark.
“I’m Esther.” She held out her hand. What the hell prompted her to use her real name?
Wrapping a firm hand around hers, he shook it. “I’m Robert.”
His touch sent tingles along her arm. The name seemed too mature for him. “What are you doing out so late, Rob?” How did such a polite man like him get involved with a Nosferatu? She checked his neck for bites and didn’t see anything, but there were more places on the body to feed from besides the neck. It would be a shame if he was a blood slave.
“Robert is fine. I was checking on a…friend.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “And you, Esther?”
She laughed. “I’m up to no good.” And she winked at him.
A rosy blush surfaced on his cheeks as he stumbled.
Something in this man attracted the devil inside of her. She entangled her arm around his and leaned into his hard body. The strength hidden under the geeky exterior sent a pleasant shiver through her body. Not all things were as they appeared. She hated surprises but not this one. If this was an act then he deserved an Emmy. She glanced at him, pleased that she needed to arch her neck back slightly to meet his sharp green gaze.
God, what was she doing? She assessed him like a potential lover instead of a possible avenue to get her mark. Stupid, focus. Once Daedalus was out of the picture she’d come back for Rob if she still wanted him. Until then…she stopped in front of a duplex. “This is my place.” She lied with the ease of an expert.
We return to Chicago where the Vanguard pack makes its home.
Where Tyler and Katrina, omegas of the pack, are in love.
And Tyler finally gains the courage to pop the question…
But Katrina’s past has caught up to her.
Chen, her old alpha, has found her and steals her from Tyler’s grip.
Then claims she is his mate.
What is an omega to do against an alpha?
Run and hide?
Not this omega, not when the love of his life is at stake.
Stuffing his credit card and receipt into his wallet, Tyler stepped onto the main street of Chicago’s Chinatown.
An antique red archway stood at the entrance to the neighborhood, bright against the cool blue sky. Katrina had told him the writing on the arch was to keep evil spirits away and good luck in. Sticking his hand in his jacket pocket, he rubbed the small, velvet jewelry box he’d placed there earlier today. He could use all the luck the arch collected–just because Katrina was his lover, didn’t mean she’d agree to be his wife.
She’d had a hard life before joining the Vanguards. Raised in an all-wolf-shifter community in rural Mongolia, she didn’t think like American shifters. Like him. He loved her for it and over the last two years, she’d grown more confident and learned to trust him. He took a deep, shaky breath. Marriage was a foreign idea for her though.
He’d chosen this location not just for his superstitions, but for its significance. Katrina worked in the area, a place where the old Asian world met the new, as an interpreter for some of the local companies.
She waited under the arch, facing him, her delicate eyebrows furrowed. An Asian man he didn’t recognize spoke with her.
Facing the stranger’s back, Tyler could only see his short black hair and long trench coat.
A sharp stab of jealousy drove Tyler to quicken his pace. He couldn’t help it. As a shifter, possession was nine-tenths of the law, and Katrina belonged to him. And he to her.
Tyler trotted along Wentworth Avenue, the scent of roast duck and spices calling to his stomach when Katrina’s raised voice reached his ears. He didn’t understand Mandarin, but his mate never yelled. He growled low in his chest and ran.
Three other men broke from the crowd and surrounded the arguing couple.
Tyler’s heart rate took off like a locomotive on a downhill slide. He smelled shifters. Non-Vanguard shifters in their territory and they were surrounding his mate.
The Asian stranger grabbed her arm and yanked her into his embrace.
“Hey!” It took every ounce of Tyler’s control to keep his beast from busting out and changing into his werewolf form on the tourist filled streets of Chicago’s biggest attraction. He shoved the stranger from behind, knocking Katrina out of his arms.
She stumbled and landed hard on the ground. Tears stained her cheeks. The cold wind blew strands of long, black hair across her face.
“Get your hands off her.” He bent to help her up, but the stranger blocked him. Straightening, Tyler glared at Katrina’s assailant and met a cold, dark stare.
Tyler’s beast rose closer to the surface. Protect. Bite. Attack. Clouded his thoughts. This male thought to block his way to defend his mate. The only solution was to tear a pathway through this asshole. “Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” He spoke each word separately to make sure he could be understood since the beast was taking over his voice.
“This is none of your concern.” The stranger spoke with a thick accent like Katrina’s.
“You’re on Vanguard territory. Anything that happens here is my concern.” Tyler pointed to Katrina, then back to himself. “And she belongs to me.” He’d hear about that statement later for sure. He could think what he wanted, but Katrina didn’t like being claimed as an object.
“Chinatown is not Vanguard territory. Never has been and never will be. And this female is my mate. Until she ran away.” Crossing his arms, the stranger planted himself in front of Tyler. “She still belongs to me and has never been yours to take.”
Tyler’s jaw unhinged. He shot her a questioning look, but she stared at the ground, not meeting his gaze. Katrina hated to speak about her past. Now, he knew why.
She wiped her face, huddled on the ground, and didn’t deny a thing.
Every bit of joy in his life sprouted from Katrina. She was his sun and moon and stars. From the first time he’d laid eyes on her, he had known that she was the one. Truth’s claws tore into his heart. Breathing hurt. “What?” Maybe he’d heard wrong? He didn’t know which was worse, the lies she’d told him or the way she hunched on the ground, submitting to this stranger like an omega all over again.
One of the surrounding males took her by the arms and yanked her to her feet.
She took a step toward Tyler, reached out her hand, and spoke his name in a tone laced with regret. Tear-filled eyes pleaded with him.
Fuck shifter laws. Fuck this stranger. And fuck any territory he stepped on. No one was taking her. “I’ll ask politely one last time, buddy.” Tyler’s glare challenged the stranger. “Let her go.”
The Asian trailed a look down Tyler’s thin body and back. “Or what? You will sell me insurance?”
Tyler stopped fighting his shift.
Claws burst from his fingertips and fur sprouted from his skin. In a spray of clothes and blood, he finished changing shape. Bipedal, he towered over the unknown shifters.
Cries from the humans crowding the street filled the air. Not everyday a lanky redhead exploded into three hundred pounds of teeth and claws. Werewolves scaring the locals caused the pack trouble, but this was an emergency. His alpha would just have to take it out of his hide.
With a full back-handed swing, Tyler knocked the stranger out of his path to Katrina.
The man who had helped her to stand snatched her away into the panicked crowd.
As if waking from a nightmare, she shook her head, then kicked and screamed until they were swallowed from his view.
Leaping after her, Tyler was intercepted midair. He hit the pavement with a bone-crunching impact. Air rushed out of his lungs while stars whirled around his head, yet he still managed to roll from the attack. He might not train like Eric, his alpha, or Robert, his beta, but Katrina had forced him to learn the basics of fighting to keep his hide intact.
He jumped to his feet and faced his opponent. The dark, cold eyes of the unknown Asian male stared back from the face of the beast who’d attacked him. His companions had shifted, too.
Impending death confronted Tyler. Three wolf shifters against one were terrible odds, especially for a shifter who worked as a real estate agent.
The streets had emptied quickly and the faint sound of sirens reached them.
Stalking away, the stranger didn’t even give Tyler a backward glance, although the other two prowled closer.
In the distance, he heard Katrina scream his name. Tears sprung to his eyes at the cry. He was supposed to protect her. A vise squeezed his chest, breaking his heart.
He blinked as red became the only color he could see.
His opponents coordinated their attacks and jumped him together.
Sam is Sigma of his pack, defender of the innocent and frail. Too bad the one time it mattered most, though the urge to guard the weak runs strong in his shifter blood, he failed to protect his best friend from an attack. Just when his self-confidence can’t go any lower, he becomes entangled in a vampire skirmish and is left with an injured female in his arms.
Vampire accountant for Pal Robi, Inc., Clementine can’t believe her master would ask her to commit corporate espionage. She’s shot when discovered, but a shifter comes to her rescue. It’s as if he’s made of her fantasies, and in the few hours with him she lives more than the decades she’s spent among her clan.
Hiding with him on the streets of Chicago, in the midst of fighting together to stay alive, can a petite vampire break through her hero’s jaded heart?
WARNING: Hot dominating sex, an action packed evening, and a first date
Sam ground his teeth at Clementine’s stubbornness and hovered around her in case she fell.
Blood soaked the back of her pink t-shirt and dripped, leaving a gruesome trail as she walked along the exterior balcony toward their motel room on the second floor. “You paid with cash like I told you?” She weaved on unsteady feet.
“Yes, ma’am.” He barely had enough money in his wallet to buy a soda now. “No credit card to track.” He reached out to grab her elbow, but she swatted his fingertips. Reflexively, he shook the sting away. “Playing tough and insisting on walking doesn’t get you brownie points if you pass out.”
He unlocked and opened their room door. The scent of cheap air freshener and stale sweat swept over him. He turned and sneezed.
“Bless you.”
He wiped his mouth. “Thanks.” Wasn’t there some supernatural law against vampires being polite?
“It smells odd in here.” She leaned against the door frame and pointed to the faded yellow bed. “Can you pull off the blanket?”
“We got what we paid for, a cheap-ass room. At least they don’t charge by the hour.” He winked and did as Clementine asked, then watched as she crawled onto their bed, lying on her stomach. “What can I do to help?” The deep red stain continued to spread under his scrutiny. “When Daedalus was staked, he didn’t bleed like this.”
She twisted around and whispered, “You were there?” With her blue eyes wide, she appeared very young, but vampires were experts at fooling people. Clementine could be five hundred years old, for all he knew. With a wig, Daedalus looked twenty, younger than Sugar.
He chuckled at the memory and recalled the expression of horror on Sugar’s face. “It happened in my old apartment.”
“You’re one of the original Omegas?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.” They’d had five pack members at the beginning, before Daedalus came and changed everything. Now they numbered in the triple digits and were called the Vasi. He pointed at her wound. “Can you bleed to death?”
She rolled back onto her stomach. “No, but I’ll need to feed before the blood lust takes over me. You have to remove the bullet.”
He grabbed the edge of her shirt and tore it open, exposing her back.
She hissed and glared at him over her shoulder. “I could have taken it off.”
Pasting mock surprise on his face, he laid a hand on his chest. “Where’s the fun in that?” Not waiting for her response, he went into the bathroom and washed off his pocketknife. A pair of tweezers would have been handy. And some gauze. He grabbed a face cloth instead. “Do I need to sterilize my knife or find some antiseptic?”
“I’m a vampire. Disease doesn’t plague us.”
He shrugged off her prickly tone, betting she was as gentle as the sound of her name on his lips. “Good, because I can’t provide either.” On his knees, he straddled her legs and leaned forward to examine her wound. He planted his palm between her shoulder blades.
“What–” She struggled under him. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want you to move.” Using his shifter strength, he shoved her flat against the bed and wiped the blood away. “Stop wiggling so much. It’s distracting.”
“Not like you can do more damage.” Her words came out muffled.
“No, but you’re turning me on.”
She went limp, her breathing heavy and strained.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. This shitty day was getting better. Using the tip of the pocketknife, he gently probed her wound. “Tell me if it hurts.” The hole in her flesh was deep. It appeared as if her backbone had absorbed the impact of the bullet. Damn, vampires were tough.
One year ago, Sugar survived a wolf shifter attack but it had left her broken. Paralyzed on the left side, she fights for independence in her day-to-day life. Her worst injuries are the scars on her soul. She can’t bear who she has become and it drives her to push her vampire lover, Daedalus, away. How could he still love her when she is just a shadow of herself? But a new threat on Daedalus’s life yanks away her veil of self-pity and she resolves to help him.
The vampire council sends an emissary to Daedalus. His clan brother, another Nosferatu, hands him an ultimatum. Return to his post as Prime in Pal Robi or he’ll kill Sugar and her shifter friends. Daedalus has brought enough trouble into Sugar’s life. He won’t be responsible for more, so he agrees to leave Chicago.
To both warriors surprise, Sugar’s not willing to remain behind, and with her own shifter guards she’s ready to assist Daedalus regain control of Pal Robi.
As soon as he closed the sliding glass door shut, Daedalus would bet his bank account that his conversation with Pallas would only have a pretense of privacy. Shifter hearing could be miraculous, especially when pressed to cracked-open windows. The distant sound of a chair clattering to the floor in the dining room reached his own sensitive hearing. He could picture his housemates scrambling to find the best places to eavesdrop.
Pallas strode to the center of the moonlit garden. “So the rumors are true. You’ve lost your mind.”
Daedalus chuckled. The other Nosferatu hadn’t changed. They’d been close once.
“Maybe. I wish the one about you was true.”
Pallas spun around. “Which one?”
“You being dead.”
“That would be too convenient.” A familiar crooked smile bloomed on his ugly face.
Daedalus laughed louder and shook Pallas’s hand, squeezing his fingers together as hard as he could. “You’re such an ass.” Bearer of bad news or not, he was still a brother, a tie to his past, and a comrade at arms.
Pallas returned his strong grip. “I learned from the best.” His clan brother, and he used that term loosely since they weren’t born from the same parents, bore the trademark appearance of their people—bald, pale, and deadly. “You’re creating quite a stir in the council, enough for them to coerce me to wake and seek you out.”
They released the painful handshake, and Daedalus shook his numb fingers, grinning as Pallas did the same. “You can tell them, for once, I’m happy.”
He snorted. “Like they care. I can’t believe you’re living with shifters again.” He made a distasteful noise. “Nasty habit. They said you left your post.”
“I did, and I left it in good hands.” Then the fools were killed and the traitors who took over tried to have him assassinated, but Pallas didn’t need to know that.
“Your company is in chaos. I went there before arriving here.”
“No.” Pal Robi Inc. was his private security company, hence it being named after him. What better than hiring an almost indestructible vampire as a guard? The company also served as a front for the vampire political structure in his area. Vampires had revealed themselves, with the other supernatural creatures, to humans fifteen years ago. Vampires were expected to follow human laws and their government, but vampire society had had these things in place long before humans had figured out how to organize themselves. The Vampire Council didn’t expect their people to follow human laws, but Pal Robi Inc. was developed to give his people legal jobs and to police their hunting. In other words, if a vampire couldn’t feed without killing, it was his responsibility to stop that person before humans were aware of it. “I didn’t assign those who presently think they are running my company.”
Pallas sighed. “Are they under your command?” He gave Daedalus a pointed stare. “Currently.”
“No.” Daedalus shrugged. “How much damage can they do? The last thing they want is to draw the Council’s attention. I haven’t truly lost control.”
“Your estate is abandoned.”
“It’s not abandoned. I dispersed my staff to other tasks, and there’s a shifter house sitter. You probably scared the shit out of him.” He’d have to call Stephen and check on him. The young shifter didn’t like company, let alone drop-ins from hell.
“A little scare never killed anyone. The council wants you to straighten things out at Pal Robi Inc. and return to your post as Prime. Things are falling apart in the area.”
An alien sourness curdled his stomach. He examined the odd sensation and decided he didn’t like the source. “Or what?” This visit was expected. Not Pallas himself but someone the council would send. The Prime kept the peace among vampirekind in his area. Sort of like a sheriff. If those traitors hadn’t been so greedy and tried to kill him, things would still be fine.
“They’ll make me kill everyone at Pal Robi Inc…” Pallas’s gaze wandered to the house, “…and here.”
“Do you think you can defeat me?” It had been ages since he’d fought one of his own kind. Living among the Vasi pack had softened him.
Mysterious deaths have occurred in Budapest and vampires are suspected. Connie Bence fits the victim profile perfectly so her slayer boss sends her to draw out the vampires responsible, except when the bait is taken, the vampires escape with her as a hostage. She’s hurled into vampire society, where she must face her greatest fear—her undeniable attraction to the vampire overlord Rurik. After her husband’s death, Connie thought her heart too broken to ever love again, but the lure of an immortal man is strong.
The body count keeps rising, the pressure is on, and the slayers want a stake through Rurik’s heart. Is he guilty? Connie doesn’t think so, but if not him, then who? If she doesn’t find out soon, the people she cares about stand to become collateral damage.
The first heart stopping installment of Connie Bence’s adventures.
Gwen met her match a year ago. Like most wolf shapeshifters, they knew upon contact they were mates but Colby hadn’t stuck around to bond. He’d dumped her and her whole pack knew it. Never one to cry surrender, Gwen goes on the hunt to find out exactly what sent him running. Hopping from country to country, she chases him until she loses his scent. Unable to return home with her tail between her legs, she takes a job guarding the newest member of the Nosferatu vampire clan in New York City to keep him out of trouble.
Colby is hunting the vampire who kidnapped Red, a member of his slayer team, but every turn he takes leads him back to the one person he’s been trying to avoid. Gwen.
Eoin Grant hasn’t encountered a female of his race in decades, and this crazy person’s scent declares her unmated. Fate set her in his path, and he won’t let this opportunity slip through his claws. No matter how wary she is of him. After all, how many chances does a dragon have at finding love? But fate can be a crueler mistress than his perfect mate. Of all things, she thinks she’s human.
Business is taking off for Angie Weldon. She put her freakishly sharp nails to good use when she opened her back-scratching spa in downtown New Port. The local shifter community pounced on her skills and she’s knee-deep in shed fur. By the end of the year, if lucky, she could afford to move out of her crappy apartment.
Dollar signs flash before Angie’s eyes when a dark, brooding stranger books her solid for a week but she notices the possessive fury in his glare. She’s been around enough shifters to know the look, and she won’t go down that road again. Angie is literally swept off her feet by the intense shifter and he wants more from her than she’s willing to give. She figures it’s best to avoid eye contact and back away slowly. Until he changes her life by insisting she’s a dragon.
After being disowned and labelled human because she can’t shift, Betty Newman rescues unwanted dogs to fulfill her need for pack. Being rejected by her birth pack was enough pain for a lifetime and she’ll do anything to avoid subjecting herself to their prejudices.
Things change when Ken Birch wakes in her kennel still in wolf form and declares she’s his soul mate. His presence wakes her feral heart and makes her long for a life she can’t have. Old wounds are opened and she refuses to listen to instinct.
But only a shifter can be a soul mate and now her life is in danger by New Port’s pack. Either Betty learns to shift or she dies. Problem is the only one willing to help is Ken, the last person she wants.
