“Is he ready for this catfight?” Lyle mumbled as he dipped a piece of cauliflower in the hummus, purposefully not looking at Curtis.
Curtis put on his best working smile and spoke loudly enough for those around us to hear. “Masterson is absolutely, one-hundred percent ready for this fight. He was born to do this for humanity.”
People around us were nodding and agreeing. Soon, a buzz circulated. Having done his job of crowd prepping, Curtis smirked.
I shook my head. “Okay, you didn’t come out here just to harass us for showing up to support your candidate, I hope?”
He shook his head and knelt beside me. The others stiffened, but I relaxed my shoulders to let them know it was okay.
“Nope. Saw you and came out to do two things,” he said.
“Then do it,” muttered Carson, pouring more wine and turning away.
“First, where’s Will? I have buttons and stuff for him.”
“He has this crazy thing called school during weekdays. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” I said.
He sighed. “Look around, Ro. Lots of people let their kids skip today. It’s a historical event they can tell their kid’s kids about.”
“Not going to happen. So, what two things did you need that just couldn’t wait.”
“Masterson wants you to have this.” He reached in and drew out an envelope. “A little thank you and a reminder that his offer is open if you ever want to consider it.”
Lyle’s and Carson’s heads both jerked toward us.
I snatched the envelope from Curtis’ hand. “Get real. I have a good job and the best partner. Not going anywhere.”
“I told him you’d say that. One day, you may feel differently.”
“And two,” Lyle bit out. Seemed the offer was just a step too far for his friendly face.
Curtis glanced at the group then smiled at me. “Two can wait until a day without speeches and cameras.” He gave a slight nod and turned.
My interest was piqued. His words were so not him.
“Curtis, what’s up?” The words were out before I realized I was going to say them.
He peered at me and smiled. “If you really want to know, you know where to find me. See ya, Ro.” Without a word to the others, he turned on his heel and meandered around the other picnickers gathered at the front of the pavilion.
Infuriating man.
“How Devon has not given you a splitting headache screaming about that man, I’ll never know.” Carson put his hand up to his head with a pained expression. “Nadia is on a tear and just getting started.”
Shrugging, I hid my worry in another sip of my wine. Truth was: Devon and I still hadn’t figured out if there was a way to make our bond go back to the way it was before, and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted it to. True, I could hear him almost constantly, and his fluctuating moods drove me to distraction sometimes, but he couldn’t always eavesdrop on me. Right now, he had no idea I was talking to Curtis, yet if I wanted him to, I could let him hear everything. Privacy was an experience I hadn’t had in a long, long time, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give it up. I fingered the tiger’s eye around my neck. Definitely not yet. Maybe there was another way scions and vampires could work, but those questions were way above my pay grade. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the time I had and have a great rally with my friends.
Sure enough, a few minutes later–just like Curtis promised–some local human semi-celebrities from the local news and commercials took the stage and gave a long introduction to Masterson and all the work he’d done for the city. They gave him their full endorsement and then gave the stage over to him.
He took it like a force of nature.
Masterson’s natural charisma was in overdrive as he waved out to the people. I stifled a snicker when I saw he was in a gleaming white, seersucker suit, a yellow carnation in his pocket. He stood beneath his slogan banner with his arms raised above him like he was some freaking savior. The energy in the area as the crowd took to their feet, cheering, pitched to a level you could feel in your bones.
Cameras flashed and rolled, projecting his image on the giant screens around us and into the homes of everyone who couldn’t–or chose not to–be here today. A bead of worry slipped into me. The at-home audience also included Romaric and all the vampires who couldn’t step out into the sun.
With placating gestures to calm the crowd, Masterson got everyone seated again and stepped up to the mic. Without a piece of paper or a teleprompter, he spoke. “Good morning, families of Chicago. Thank you for that exuberant welcome. For too long, those of us who do the real work of this great country, and stand proudly in the light of day, have been ruled by those who work and thrive only in the shadows.
“As a great American human poet once wrote, ‘Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.‘ Well, this mortal has dared to dream, and my dreams are all of the light. This country was founded on democracy, and true democracy can only thrive in the light. So, it is the light I bring to you today. The light of this beautiful Chicago morning. The light of better education and health care for our children that doesn’t revolve around stealing our children’s blood as a tax. The light of a future unafraid of shadows and the devil we know.”
His words were effective. People ate it up. For the first time, I saw hope on human faces.
Hope was a powerful motivator, and he had it in spades. Watching him stir up the crowd, with ideas they hadn’t dared to think in generations, I prayed he knew what he was doing. There was no greater weapon of despair than hope offered then stolen away.
Today, the sun was shining, and hope was on the pavilion–and in my head. Things were changing and getting more dangerous. For scions. For the DEC. For the world. But if my new bond with Devon worked, it would be worth the effort to keep it a secret. Freedom had always taken sacrifice. A little light could help us grow… or burn us to the ground.
Watching Masterson wave at the crowd as he stepped away, I prayed to all that was holy that we both knew what we were doing, because if anyone learned that someone–or something–had successfully changed the bond between vampire and scion, it could change everything.
I would like to thank my Beta readers who help shape my book to what it is: Carrie, Pherin and Mitch. I would also like to thank all the creative wranglers at Curiosity Quills, especially my editor and fellow martial arts enthusiast, Vicki Merkiel, who defended me from grammatical ninjas.
A New Orleans native, Courtney Sloan relocated to the hills of Central Maryland after Hurricane Katrina. There she lives with her husband and fellow author, J.P. Sloan, their son and their crazy German Shepherd pup. Adding to her writing life, Courtney is also a professor at the local college and enjoys learning a world of new ideas from her students as she teaches them about writing and communicating.
Courtney’s New Orleans upbringing has left her with a love for the macabre and a flare for the next to normal. She writes speculative fiction with a variety of horror and sass mixed in for flavor.
She loves taking the world of politics that haunts us now, and adding the supernatural to create a gumbo of thrills to keep you up at night.
A self-proclaimed lover of way too many fandoms, Courtney also loves crafting. From blankets to jams to stories, it’s always better homemade.
Now that you have completed this book, we hope you will leave a review so that other readers may benefit from your perspective. Authors like Courtney Sloan live and die by your reviews, after all!
Please visit http://curiosityquills.com/reader-survey/ to share your reading experience with the author of this book!
The Curse Merchant, by J.P. Sloan
(http://bit.ly/1pRNMH7)
Baltimore socialite Dorian Lake makes his living crafting hexes and charms, manipulating karma for those the system has failed. His business has been poached lately by corrupt soul monger Neil Osterhaus, who wouldn’t be such a problem were
it not for Carmen, Dorian’s captivating ex-lover. She has sold her soul to Osterhaus, and needs Dorian’s help to find a new soul to take her place. Hoping to win back her affections, Dorian must navigate Baltimore’s occult underworld and decide how low he is willing to stoop in order to save Carmen from eternal damnation.
The Dead Detective, by J.R. Rain & Rod Kierkegaard, Jr.
(http://j.mp/DeadDt)
Medical-school-dropout police detective Richelle Dadd is… well, dead.
But that won’t stop her from trying to hold on to her house in a divorce battle with a bitter husband. Or keep her from digging into her own murder, to discover who put the bullet into her heart. And it certainly won’t stand in the way of finding out the reason she’s been reanimated as a zombie assassin, no longer in control of her life.
Richelle will face off against Gypsy shamans, double-crossing ghosts, a partner she can’t trust, and her own undead nature in a journey into the depths of the occult world and out the other side without losing her sense of humor - or humanity - along the way.
It’s a good thing her deductive skills - and her aim - are still up to par.
The Department of Magic, by Rod Kierkegaard, Jr.
(http://j.mp/dofmagic)
Magic is nothing like it seems in children’s books. It’s dark and bloody and sexual—and requires its own semi-mythical branch of the US Federal Government to safeguard citizens against ever present supernatural threats.
Join Jasmine Farah and Rocco di Angelo—a pair of wet-behind-the-ears recruits of The Department of Magic—on a nightmare gallop through a world of ghosts, spooks, vampires, and demons, and the minions of South American and Voodoo god shell-bent on destroying all humanity in the year 2012.
Destruction, by Sharon Bayliss
(http://j.mp/1oPaiyw)
When David’s two lost children are finally found, he learns they suffered years of unthinkable abuse. The children claim to be dark wizards, and David believes they use this fantasy to cope with their trauma. Until, David’s wife admits a secret of her own—she is a dark wizard too, as is David, and all of their children.
Now, David must parent two hurting children from a dark world he doesn’t understand and keep his family from falling apart. All while dealing with the realization that everyone he loves, including himself, may be evil.
Appetizer:
Book Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Main Course:
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
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Dessert:
Acknowledgements
Closing
About the Author
Copyright & Publisher
More from Curiosity Quills Press
Of Scions and Men Page 29