Death's Mistress

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by Karen Chance




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Epilogue

  “Karen Chance takes her place along[side] Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, MaryJanice Davidson, and J. D. Robb.”

  —SFRevu

  Praise for the Novels of Karen Chance

  Midnight’s Daughter

  “Karen Change doesn’t disappoint. Once again we have an action-packed adventure with a strong female character that, while tough as nails, and a dhampir, is also very human.”

  —SFRevu

  “In dhampir Dorina Basarab, Chance has created a sassy, tough heroine who never says die. Following these first-person adventures is going to be an adrenaline high.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Glorious fight scenes, eerily still moments of fractured memories, steamy romps that set the heart pounding—it is little wonder that Chance has caught the attention of so many fans. . . . She delivers in every way—utterly staggering.”

  —The Truth About Books

  “Karen Chance has done it again . . . a brilliant start to a new series and contains all the elements needed for a great urban fantasy.”

  —Vampire Romance Books

  “Karen Chance knows how to write. Not just the action scenes, or having the butt- kicking heroine throw out pithy one-liners, but the setup is clever, the involvement of the various factions in the simmering war is well thought-out, as are the repercussions to various actions characters take in the book.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “There is plenty of action, a bit of romance, and a fascinating look at the Dracula brood. . . . Karen Chance is by far one of the best authors writing urban fantasies today.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  Claimed by Shadow

  “Ms. Chance is a master at fleshing out her secondary characters and keeping her story line moving at a lightning-fast pace. . . . This is a series well worth getting hooked on.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A nonstop thrill ride from beginning to end, a wildly entertaining romp with a strong, likable heroine. The story is fast-paced and barely lets up from the word ‘go,’ lightened with plenty of wry humor and more than a dash of romance.”

  —Rambles

  “Chance is a great writer of supernatural fantasy that is on a par with the works of Kim Harrison, Charlaine Harris, and Kelley Armstrong. . . . There is so much action in Claimed by Shadow that readers will never stop until finished.”

  —The Best Reviews

  Touch the Dark

  “A really exciting book with great pace and a huge cast of vivid characters. This is one of my favorite reads of the year.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Charlaine Harris

  “A grab-you-by-the-throat-and-suck-you-in sort of book with a tough, smart heroine and sexy-scary vampires. I loved it—and I’m waiting anxiously for a sequel.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs

  “Exciting and inventive.”

  —Booklist

  “Fast and heavy on the action, Touch the Dark packs a huge story. . . . A blend of fantasy and romance, it will satisfy readers of both genres.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A very promising start to a new series, and an exceptionally entertaining first novel.”

  —Locus

  “A wonderfully entertaining romp with an engaging heroine. Here’s hoping there’s a sequel in the works!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Kelley Armstrong

  “The action never stops . . . engrossing.”

  —SFRevu

  “[A] plucky heroine with special powers dealing with the supernatural . . . exciting and fun.”

  —The Weekly Press (Philadelphia)

  “Sexy vampires and interesting magical powers set up a thrilling and suspenseful environment in Touch the Dark . . . combines humor, action, and the paranormal into a scintillating story that will leave readers begging for more.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “An intensely captivating paranormal adventure with a capable heroine who possesses great strength and a wry sense of humor. . . . Karen Chance has created a wildly rich and seductive world sure to keep many readers hungry for more.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “A gifted author who pens a tale of vivid imagery, paranormal excellence, and draws her readers in . . . a unique and awesome paranormal tale that sets itself apart. . . . Ms. Chance makes the genre her own with memorable characters, fast-paced action, and brings some of the best vampiric creatures ever created to life. . . . Readers won’t want to miss this one!”

  —The Road to Romance

  “Entertaining [and] action-packed . . . a strong tale that will bring much acclaim to Karen Chance.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “An entertaining romp.”

  —Romantic Times

  “An interesting take on the vampire mythos that includes all kinds of supernatural forces and beings. Cassie is the perfect heroine . . . [and] her story is exciting and will keep you turning pages. . . . I’m looking forward to reading the sequel.”

  —BellaOnline

  ALSO BY KAREN CHANCE

  MIDNIGHT’S DAUGHTER NOVELS

  Midnight’s Daughter

  CASSIE PALMER NOVELS

  Touch the Dark

  Claimed by Shadow

  Embrace the Night

  Curse the Dawn

  ONYX

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Office
s: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Onyx, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, January

  Copyright © Karen Chance, 2010

  All rights reserved

  eISBN : 978-1-101-17127-1

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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  Chapter One

  There was no sign on the abandoned church, but someone had scribbled “Let us Prey” above the main doors. As a Catholic, I didn’t approve. As someone bent on doing exactly that, it seemed oddly appropriate.

  I pushed open the heavy wooden doors and went in. It looked like I’d guessed right in going with office chic when I’d gotten ready for the evening. There were a minority of Goths and some tourist types in the church-turned-nightclub, but most of the crowd seemed to be composed of those recently released from corporate hell.

  I fit in well enough, in a blue silk tank top I sweated through within five minutes and a short black skirt. The tank matched the new streaks in my short brown hair; the skirt matched my eyes. I got a beer at the bar and wandered around, looking for trouble.

  It didn’t take long to find it. The club was populated mostly by humans, but it was owned by a vampire. A group of the fashionable undead showed up every night for the all-you-can-eat buffet, and from the look of things, the owner was dining early.

  He had a pretty brunette in a corner, his hand up her skirt and his fangs in her throat. That was frowned upon by the Vampire Senate, the ruling body for North American vampires, who preferred feedings to be kept nice and subtle. But then, this guy had already proven he wasn’t too concerned about the Senate’s point of view—about a lot of things. That was why I was here. They intended to teach a lesson, and to make it memorable.

  The woman was facing out toward the crowd, and by the time I reached them, he’d managed to get her dress open all the way down. She wasn’t wearing much underneath, unless you counted the scrap of black lace he had his hand inside. He did something that caused a quick, indrawn breath and a helpless shift of her hips. One of the bystanders laughed.

  There were a dozen of them, all vampires, and at least a few were masters. I’d hoped to catch him alone, or at worst with two or three others. I hadn’t planned on the show, and it complicated things.

  He pulled the dress off her shoulders and it slithered to the floor, over skin already so sensitized that every tiny movement was torture. She began to breathe heavily through her nose, trembling like a fever had gripped her. He hadn’t bothered to fog her mind, because it’s no fun if they aren’t terrified. And because his boys wanted to play.

  Vampires have a limited ability to project thoughts, and because of my heritage, I pick them up better than most. She wouldn’t meet their eyes, wouldn’t raise her head. But she knew what they saw by the images they thoughtfully kept sending.

  From a dozen perspectives, she was bombarded with images of her body, slick and shining under the lights, of the rivulets sweat had carved through the goose bumps on her skin, of her last piece of clothing being jerked down her thighs. And the pictures came in stereo, with every sound that was ripped from her throat magnified a dozen times and sent back to her. The watchers’ emotions leaked through, too: arousal, anticipation and, most of all, rising bloodlust.

  That was especially true of the monster draining her, yet still she writhed back against him. And when his hands roamed over her sweat-slick skin, she moaned desperately. She was trapped in the feedback loop of sensation that went with the feeding process. It was better than a drug as it coursed through her veins, tightening her nipples, shortening her breath and siphoning out her life.

  I’d assumed that, with so many available donors, he wouldn’t choose to drain her. Body disposal was messy and time-consuming, and prompted investigations that he had every reason to avoid. But he must have liked her taste, because even as her legs gave out and she collapsed, he followed her down.

  It’s crazy to interrupt a vampire when he’s feeding, when he’s at his most vulnerable and his most deadly. But then, I haven’t been sane in centuries. The toe of my boot caught his wrist, tossing it away from the girl.

  “You want to dance with me,” I told him clearly, as he rounded on me with a snarl.

  Odds were that no human had treated him that cavalierly before, and he clearly didn’t like it. He liked even less that some of his vamps had seen me do it. But it intrigued him, too. I was suddenly a tastier dish than the one who lay gasping like a fish out of water, the velvet of her dress crushed beneath her.

  “You know, I think you’re right,” he said, flashing me a winning smile with more than a hint of power behind it.

  I ignored it and tangled a fist in his shirt so I wouldn’t have to touch him. I dragged him onto the dance floor and he didn’t try to get away. He just followed me with a glint in his eye that promised pain to come.

  He had no idea.

  He grinned, and his eyes dropped to my hips as I followed the beat. “You look hot.”

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same. His eyes were glued to my chest, maybe because it was directly in his line of sight. I’m five foot two inches, and the boots added another three inches, but that still meant he was missing a crucial element of the tall, dark and handsome stereotype. It didn’t matter, since he was missing the rest, too.

  Not that he appeared to know it.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He laughed. “I meant, you look like you could use a drink.”

  “If we can have it in private.”

  A blond eyebrow rose. “That can be arranged.”

  He took my hand, towing me across the sticky dance floor, scattering the crowd like peasants before royalty. The analogy amused me, considering that he’d been born the bastard son of a pig farmer. Not that I was in any position to talk. I was the illegitimate daughter of a serving wench and a vampire. It didn’t get much trashier than that.

  Of course, we’d both come a long way from our inauspicious beginnings. These days, he went by the name of Hugo Vleck and operated a successful club when he wasn’t selling illegal fey narcotics. And as for me . . . Well, I solve problems of the vampire kind, and Vleck was making my employer very unhappy. My job was to cheer him up. The fact that I was going to enjoy it was just a bonus.

  The crowd was five thick around the bar, but we didn’t have any trouble getting served. That wasn’t too surprising since my date owned the club, but he shot me a look over his shoulder, checking to see if I was suitably impressed. I smiled and he put a hand on my ass.

  “Cristal for the lady,” he told the young vamp bartender, giving me a little squeeze.

  “Will you be drinking, too, sir?”

  Vleck grinned, showing off his fangs. “Later.”

  He and the barten
der exchanged a look, while I tried to appear like someone who didn’t know that a lot of vamps prefer their alcohol straight from a victim’s veins. They say it increases the high they get from feeding, and is the only way to feel the burn with their metabolism. Vleck was clearly calculating how much more it would take to get me all the way to drunk. I could have told him there wasn’t that much booze in the world, but why spoil his evening?

  He had so little of it left.

  The bartender sat a champagne flute on the bar but Vleck shook his head. “I’ll take the bottle. Wrap it up.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “My place. It isn’t far.”

  Wow. He must really plan to get nasty. I draped an arm around his waist, and rested my chin on his shoulder. “I don’t feel like waiting. Isn’t there somewhere we could go here?”

  “Naw. The office is too small—you can barely turn around in that thing.”

  “So? You’re the boss. Make some space,” I said, smiling seductively and pulling him away from the bar. Like with most crappy clubs, the bathrooms were down a dark hallway. I dragged him into the men’s room and tugged his shirt off.

 

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