Into the Fire

by Jeaniene Frost

“Frost’s dazzling blend of urban fantasy action and passionate relationships make her a true phenomenon.”

  Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  Destined for an Early Grave

  “Who is Gregor, why am I dreaming about him, and why is he called the Dreamsnatcher?”

  “More importantly, why has he surfaced now to seek her out?” Bones’s voice was cold as ice. “Gregor hasn’t been seen or heard from in over a decade. I thought he might be dead.”

  “He’s not dead,” Mencheres said a trifle grimly. “Like me, Gregor has visions of the future. He intended to alter the future based on one of these visions. When I found out about it, I imprisoned him as punishment.”

  “And what does he want with my wife?”

  Bones emphasized the words while arching a brow at me, as if daring me to argue. I didn’t.

  “He saw Cat in one of his visions and decided he had to have her,” Mencheres stated in a flat tone. “Then he discovered she’d be blood-bound to you. Around the time of Cat’s sixteenth birthday, Gregor intended to find her and take her away. His plan was very simple—if Cat had never met you, then she’d be his, not yours.”

  “Bloody sneaking bastard,” Bones ground out, even as my jaw dropped. “I’ll congratulate him on his cleverness—while I’m ripping silver through his heart.”

  “Don’t underestimate Gregor,” Mencheres said. “He managed to escape my prison a month ago, and I still don’t know how. Gregor seems to be more interested in Cat than in getting revenge against me. She’s the only person I know whom Gregor’s contacted through dreams since he’s been out.”

  Why do these crazy vampires keep trying to collect me? My being one of the only known half-breeds had been more of a pain than it was worth. Gregor wasn’t the first vampire who thought it would be neat to keep me as some sort of exotic toy, but he did win points for cooking up the most original plan to do it.

  “And you locked Gregor up for a dozen years just to keep him from altering my future with Bones?” I asked, my skepticism plain. “Why? You didn’t do much to stop Bones’s sire, Ian, when he tried the same thing.”

  Mencheres’s steel-colored eyes flicked from me to Bones. “There was more at stake,” he said at last. “If you’d never met Bones, he might have stayed under Ian’s rule longer, not taking Mastership of his own line, and then not being co-Master of mine when I needed him. I couldn’t risk that.”

  So it hadn’t been about preserving true love at all. Figures. Vampires seldom did anything with purely altruistic motives.

  “What happens if Gregor touches me in my dreams?” I asked, moving on. “What then?”

  Bones answered me, and the burning intensity in his gaze could have seared my face.

  “If Gregor takes ahold of you in your dreams, when you wake, you’ll be wherever he is. That’s why he’s called the Dreamsnatcher. He can steal people away in their dreams.”

  Announcement to This Side of the Grave

  This Side of the Grave

  Cat and Bones have fought for their lives as well as their relationship. Just as they’ve triumphed over the latest battle, Cat’s new and unexpected abilities are making them a target. And help from a dangerous “ally” may prove more treacherous than they’ve ever imagined.

  “Cat and Bones are combustible together.”

  Charlaine Harris

  This Side of the Grave

  The vampire pulled on the chains restraining him to the cave wall. His eyes were bright green, their glow illuminating the darkness surrounding us.

  “Do you really think these will hold me?” he asked, an English accent caressing the challenge.

  “Sure do,” I replied. Those manacles were installed and tested by a Master vampire, so they were strong enough. I should know. I’d once been stuck in them myself.

  The vampire’s smile revealed fangs in his white upper teeth. They hadn’t been there several minutes ago, when he’d still looked human to the untrained eye.

  “Right, then. What do you want, now that you have me helpless?”

  He didn’t sound like he felt helpless in the least. I pursed my lips and considered the question, letting my gaze sweep over him. Nothing interrupted my view, either, since he was naked. I’d long ago learned that weapons could be stored in various clothing items, but bare skin hid nothing.

  Except now, it was also very distracting. The vampire’s body was a pale, beautiful expanse of muscle, bone, and lean, elegant lines, all topped off by a gorgeous face with cheekbones so finely chiseled they could cut butter. Clothed or unclothed, the vampire was stunning, something he was obviously aware of. Those glowing green eyes looked into mine with a knowing stare.

  “Need me to repeat the question?” he asked with a hint of wickedness.

  I strove for nonchalance. “Who do you work for?”

  His grin widened, letting me know my aloof act wasn’t as convincing as I’d meant it to be. He even stretched as much as the chains allowed, his muscles rippling like waves on a pond.

  “No one.”

  “Liar.” I pulled out a silver knife and traced its tip lightly down his chest, not breaking his skin, just leaving a faint pink line that faded in seconds. Vampires might be able to heal with lightning quickness, but silver through the heart was lethal. Only a few inches of bone and muscle stood between this vampire’s heart and my blade.

  He glanced at the path my knife had traced. “Is that supposed to frighten me?”

  I pretended to consider the question. “Well, I’ve cut a bloody swath through the undead world ever since I was sixteen. Even earned myself the nickname of the Red Reaper, so if I’ve got a knife next to your heart, then yes, you should be afraid.”

  His expression was still amused. “Right nasty wench you sound like, but I wager I could get free and have you on your back before you could stop me.”

  Cocky bastard. “Talk is cheap. Prove it.”

  His legs flashed out, knocking me off-balance. I sprang forward at once, but a hard, cool body flattened me to the cave floor in the next instant. An iron grip closed around my wrist, preventing me from raising the knife.

  “Always pride before a fall,” he murmured in satisfaction.

  Announcement to One Grave at a Time

  One Grave at a Time

  Cat’s “gift” from New Orleans’s voodoo queen just keeps on giving, and now a personal favor has led to doing battle against a villainous spirit. But how do you send a killer to the grave when he’s already dead?

  “Every time I think I know all there is to know about Cat and Bones, Ms. Frost creates new layers of depth. . . . Prepare yourself for blood and gore galore, interspersed with tons of dark, witty humor, fierce fighting, and one-of-a-kind romance.”

  Joyfully Reviewed

  One Grave at a Time

  “We summon you into our presence. Heed our call, Heinrich Kramer. Come to us now. We summon through the veil the spirit of Heinrich Kramer—”

  Dexter let out a sharp noise that was part whine, part bark. Tyler quit speaking. I tensed, feeling the grate of invisible icicles across my skin again. Bones’s gaze narrowed at a point over my right shoulder. Slowly, I turned my head in that direction.

  All I saw was a swirl of darkness before the Ouija board flew across the room—and the point of the little wooden planchette buried in Tyler’s throat.

  I sprang up and tried to grab Tyler, only to be knocked backward like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Stunned, it took me a second to register that I was pinned to the wall by the desk, that dark cloud on the other side of it.

  The ghost had successfully managed to use the desk as a weapon against me. If it hadn’t been still jabbed in my stomach, I wouldn’t even have believed it.

  Bones threw the desk aside before I could, flinging it so hard that it split down the center when it hit the other wall. Dexter barked and jumped around, trying to bite the charcoal-colored cloud that was forming into the shape of a tall man. Tyler made a horrible gurgling noise, clutchi
ng his throat. Blood leaked out between his fingers.

  “Bones, fix him. I’ll deal with this asshole.”

  Dexter’s barks drowned out the sounds Tyler made as Bones slashed his palm with his fangs, then slapped it over Tyler’s mouth, ripping out the planchette at the same time.

  Pieces of the desk suddenly became missiles that pelted the three of us. Bones spun around to take their brunt, shielding Tyler, while I jumped to cover the dog. A pained yelp let me know at least one had nailed Dexter before I got to him. Tyler’s gurgles became wrenching coughs.

  “Boy, did you make a colossal fucking mistake,” I snarled, grabbing a piece of the ruined desk. Then I stood up, still blocking the dog from any more objects the ghost could lob at him. He’d materialized enough for me to see white hair swirling around a craggy, wrinkled face. The ghost hadn’t been young when he died, but the shoulders underneath his dark tunic weren’t bowed from age. They were squared in arrogance, and the green eyes boring into mine held nothing but contempt.

  “Hure,” the ghost muttered before thrusting his hand into my neck and squeezing like he was about to choke me. I felt a stronger than normal pins-and-needles sensation but didn’t flinch. If this schmuck thought to terrify me with a cheap parlor trick like that, wait until he saw my first abracadabra.

  “Heinrich Kramer?” I asked almost as an afterthought. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t him, he would regret what he did, but I wanted to know whose ass I was about to kick.

  Announcement to Up From the Grave

  Up From the Grave

  Cat and Bones should have known better than to relax their guard. A rogue CIA agent is involved in horrifying secret activities that threaten to cause an all-out war between humans and the undead. As Cat and Bones race against time to save their friends from a fate worse than death, their lives—and those of everyone they hold dear—will be hovering on the edge of the grave.

  “Featuring superior writing as well as a thoughtfully structured plot, Cat and Bones’s final adventure is appropriately splendid and satisfying.”

  Publishers Weekly (★Starred Review★)

  Up From the Grave

  “I want their bodies.”

  Madigan showed more surprise than he had when I lunged at him. “What?”

  “Their bodies,” Bones repeated, his tone hardening. “Now.”

  “Why? You didn’t even like Tate,” Madigan muttered.

  My murderous haze cleared. He was stalling, which meant in all likelihood, he was lying about their deaths. I tapped Bones’s arm. He released me, but one hand remained on my waist.

  “My feelings are irrelevant,” Bones answered. “I sired them so they’re mine, and if they’re dead, then you have no further use for them.”

  “What possible use would you have?” Madigan demanded.

  A dark brow rose. “Not your concern. I’m waiting.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you don’t age,” Madigan snapped as he rose from his chair. “Their bodies were cremated and their ashes disposed of, so there’s nothing left to give you.”

  If Madigan wanted us to believe they were dead, then they must be in serious trouble. Even if Madigan wasn’t behind it, he clearly intended to leave them to their fates.

  I wasn’t about to.

  Something in my stare must have alarmed him because he glanced left and right before flinging a hand in Bones’s direction.

  “If you’re not intending to let her complete her term of service, then both of you can get out. Before I have her jailed for dereliction of duty, desertion, and trying to attack me.”

  I expected Bones to tell him where to go, which was why I was stunned when he merely nodded.

  “Until next time.”

  “What?” I burst out. “We’re not leaving without more answers!”

  His hand tightened on my waist.

  “We are, Kitten. There’s nothing for us here.”

  I glared at Bones before turning my attention to the thin, older man. Madigan’s face had paled, but underneath the heavy scent of cologne, he didn’t smell like fear. Instead, his blue gaze was defiant. Almost . . . daring.

  Once more, Bones’s grip tightened. Something else was going on. I didn’t know what, but I trusted Bones enough not to grab Madigan and start biting the truth out of him like I wanted to. Instead, I smiled enough to bare my fangs.

  “Sorry, but I don’t think you and I would have a healthy working relationship, so I’ll have to decline the job offer.”

  Multiple footsteps sounded in the hall. Moments later, heavily armed, helmeted guards appeared in the doorway. At some point, Madigan must have pushed a silent alarm—an upgrade he’d installed since my previous visit to his office.

  “Get out,” Madigan repeated.

  I didn’t bother with any threats, but the single look I gave him said that this wasn’t over.

  About the Author

  JEANIENE FROST is the New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author of the Night Huntress and Night Prince series, as well as the Night Huntress World novels. To date, foreign rights for her novels have sold to twenty different countries. Jeaniene lives in Florida with her husband, Matthew, rarely cooks, and always sleeps in on the weekends. Aside from writing, Jeaniene enjoys reading, poetry, watching movies with her husband, exploring old cemeteries, spelunking, and traveling—by car. Airplanes, children, and cookbooks frighten her.

  To know more about Jeaniene, please visit her website at www.jeanienefrost.com.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  Praise for Jeaniene Frost

  “Frost’s dazzling blend of urban fantasy action and passionate relationships makes her a true phenomenon.”

  RT BOOKreviews

  “A stay-up-until-sunrise read . . . There are many Draculas out there, but only one Vlad, and you owe it to yourself to meet him.”

  Ilona Andrews on Once Burned

  “Passionate and tantalizing . . . filled with dark sensuality and fast-paced action.”

  Kresley Cole on First Drop of Crimson

  “Sexy-hot and a thrill-ride on every page. I’m officially addicted to the series.”

  Gena Showalter on At Grave’s End

  By Jeaniene Frost

  Into the Fire

  Bound by Flames

  Up From the Grave

  Twice Tempted

  Once Burned

  One Grave at a Time

  This Side of the Grave

  Eternal Kiss of Darkness

  First Drop of Crimson

  Destined for an Early Grave

  At Grave’s End

  One Foot in the Grave

  Halfway to the Grave

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Excerpts from Halfway to the Grave; One Foot in the Grave; At Grave’s End; Destined for an Early Grave; This Side of the Grave; One Grave at a Time; Up From the Grave copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009, 2011, 2014 by Jeaniene Frost

  into the fire. Copyright © 2017 by Jeaniene Frost. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

  EPub Edition MARCH 2017 ISBN: 978-0-06-207585-7

  Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-207640-3

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