Apparently no one listened to a vampire’s prayers.
You’re hiding in a kitchen filled with knives. Maybe she wasn’t so helpless after all.
She could see the figure’s shadow slide along the wall, stark against the bright patch of hallway light. His silhouette showed he was tall and big boned, moving with surprising grace for such a large man. She caught a sharp tang of smoke and chemicals, as if he’d been near an industrial fire. The smell drowned her vampire senses, choking out anything else his scent might have told her. He was coming closer, pausing after each step, his feet all but silent on the carpet.
Just a few yards more and he would be past the kitchen door. Then she could make a break for it. Even a fledgling such as her could move faster than a mortal.
Closer, closer. The hiding place where she crouched was just inside the kitchen entrance. If she reached out, she could brush the toes of his heavy work boots with her fingers. Her fingertips itched, as if they had already grazed the dirty leather. He was so close that she dared not lift her head to look at him. All she got was a good view of jean-clad shins.
And then he was past. She rose in a single, smooth motion, balancing on her toes. One careful step forward, and she reached the counter opposite the fridge. Silently she slid a kitchen knife out of the block. Just in case. It was smarter to run than to fight, but he might corner her yet.
She heard his intake of breath as he reached the living room. She froze, the cool handle of the knife heavy and hard against her palm.
The urge to vomit washed over her again, but she didn’t dare make a noise. Not even to swallow. She could hear him, just a few yards to the right, the brush of cloth on cloth as he moved around the gory, glistening carnage in the next room.
Three, two, one.
Talia darted toward the hall, inhumanly fast.
He was faster.
Huge hands grabbed her upper arms, hauling her into the air. She kicked, hearing a snarl of pain as the sharp heel of her ankle boot dug into his thigh. She tried to turn and slash, but the angle was wrong. Wriggling like a ferret, Talia twisted, using Undead strength to turn within that big-knuckled grasp.
She flipped over, dropping through the air as her attacker lost his hold. With an upward slash, she scored the knife along the flesh of his hand.
Ha!
His other hand came down like a hammer, aiming for the weapon. Talia spun and kicked, wobbling in the heels but still forcing him back. She used the motion of the kick to fall into a crouch, sweeping the blade in a whispering arc, claiming the space around her body.
Force the enemy to keep his distance. One useful thing her father had taught her. One of the few.
But as she came out of the turn, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck—how long was his reach, anyway?—and heaved her to the ground like a bag of laundry. Before Talia could move, she felt a heavy knee in the small of her back. She tried to arch up, but he was at least twice her weight. Rage shot through her, riding on a cold slick of terror. She hissed, baring fang.
His hand was pinning her wrist to the carpet, immobilizing the knife. Gripping it hard, she twisted her hand, snaking the point toward his flesh. His other hand clamped down, peeling her fingers one by one off the hilt.
She did her best to scratch. A female vampire’s nails were as sharp as talons.
“Give it up,” he growled.
She made a sound like a cat poked with a fork, half hiss, half yowl. The knife came loose. He sent it spinning across the floor, out of reach. Then she felt something cold and metal click shut around her wrist. The chill sensation made her flail, the motion jerking her elbow up to connect with solid flesh. His jaw? For a glorious moment, she felt him flinch.
Only to shove her back down and snap the handcuffs around her other wrist.
“There’s silver in the alloy.” His voice was hard and low. “You can’t break them.”
Talia rolled over, baring her fangs. The slide of metal against leather told her a gun had left its holster. She next thing she saw was a freaking .44 Magnum Ruger Blackhawk aimed between her eyes—loaded, no doubt, with silver-coated hollow-point bullets.
Their fight had brought them closer to the living room. The glow of the table lamps cast a wash of light over the attacker’s face, at last giving her a good look at the man. Or what she could see of him around the muzzle of the minicannon in his hand.
Shaggy dark hair, thick and straight and a bit too long. Dark eyes. Swarthy skin. Killer cheekbones. Not classically handsome, but there was something heart-stopping in that face. Something wild.
She’d seen him before. What was his name? Lorne? No, Lore. He lived somewhere on the sixth floor.
“Great,” Talia ground out through clenched teeth. Everything was catching up to her, emotions fighting their way through shock. She was starting to cry, tears sliding from beneath her lashes and trickling down her temples. Oh, Michelle, what happened? “Just great. I’m about to be blown to smithereens by the boy next door.”
He leaned forward, pressing the muzzle of the gun into her flesh. “Be silent.”
Talia hissed.
The corner of his mouth pulled down. “Did the smell of her get to be too much? You needed a taste?”
“Oh, God, no.” Talia caught her breath, feeling beads of cold, clammy sweat trickle between her breasts. Fear. Guilt. She’d been so afraid of hurting Michelle, been so careful. Accusing her now wasn’t fair. “How can you say that? She’s right there. Right over there.”
“Then tell the truth.”
Talia gulped, tasting death on her tongue. “I didn’t do this.”
“All the vampires say that.”
“Wasn’t this your doing?”
“I don’t hunt humans. I go for bigger game.”
The statement made her shiver. His hand was bloody where she’d cut him, but he didn’t smell like food. Not human, but nothing she recognized. The realization came like an extra jolt of electricity. What the hell is he?
“Then why are you here? Who are you?” She struggled to sit up, awkward because her arms were pinned behind her back. He pressed the Ruger hard against her skin, but she barely noticed.
“Who is your sire?” he demanded.
Talia clamped her mouth shut. His dark, angry gaze locked with hers. It wasn’t the cold stare of so many killers she’d known. His eyes were hot with emotion, a righteous, remorseless fury.
“Who made you?” His voice grated with anger.
Talia blinked hard, her heart giving another jerking thump of fright. “No, please. If you send me back to my sire, I’ll be lucky if he only kills me.”
“That’s what happens when a vampire goes rogue.”
Now she was starting to sob, ugly little gasps that caught in her throat. “You can’t send me back. I didn’t kill her. I loved Michelle.” She was begging, and put every ounce of her soul into it, holding his dark, burning stare.
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “Damn you.”
The wail of a police siren ripped the night. Lore pressed the muzzle of the gun like a cold kiss against her forehead. “I don’t trust you. I can’t tell if you’re the killer or not. But I believe you’re afraid of your sire.”
Her mouth had gone paper dry. “What are you going to do?”
His mouth thinned as if he didn’t like the question. He looked her up and down, all that anger turning to a smoldering frustration. Talia could almost feel it heating her skin.
“I’ll give you a choice. Take your chances with the human police, or . . .” He trailed off, clearly mulling over his next words.
“Or?” The single syllable came out in a croak.
“Or you’re my prisoner. Take your pick.”
“I urge anyone who is a fan of urban fantasy and paranormal romance to put Sharon Ashwood at the top of their list!”
—Night Owl Romance
Praise for the Novels of Sharon Ashwood
Scorched
“Scorched: The Dark Forgotten
is a fast-paced urban fantasy that will keep you up long into the night. Hanging with the supernatural never felt so good!”
—Romance Junkies (Blue Ribbon Favorite)
“Ms. Ashwood’s stories are multidimensional, and it is hard to second-guess this author. I can’t wait for a third adventure in Ms. Ashwood’s unique and twisted version of the world!”
—The Romance Studio
“With the darkness and danger lurking on every page, it will keep readers engaged until the very end.”
—Darque Reviews
“Sexual romps, fight scenes, shopping expeditions, and magic . . . Scorched has it all.”
—The Romance Reader
“The second Dark Forgotten urban fantasy is a terrific thriller.”
—The Best Reviews
“Sharp and stylish writing, plenty of action, a well-conceived and intriguing mythology, and a great sense of dark atmosphere.”
—BookLoons
“Sharon Ashwood has convinced me to put the Dark Forgotten on my must-buy list. This tale is dark and sexy, romantic, full of action, and filled with all kinds of fascinating creatures and people. If you love paranormal romance, you simply have to get a copy of Scorched.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Sharon Ashwood has become a must-buy author for me.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews (5 Angel Review)
Ravenous
“Sexy, suspenseful fun.”
—New York Times bestselling author Kelley Armstrong
“A multilayered plot, a fascinating take on the paranormal creatures living among us, plus a sexy vampire, a sassy witch, and a mystery for them to solve . . . Ravenous leaves me hungry for more!”
—Jessica Andersen, author of Demonkeepers
“Strong world building. . . . Readers will look forward to the sequel.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The world building is complex and absolutely terrific. But most of all, it’s the powerful attraction between the spunky witch heroine and her sexy vampire partner as they battle evil that makes this story a real page-turner!”
—Alexis Morgan
“The world is interesting (I look forward to seeing more of it!), the romance gorgeous, the sex sizzling. There’s plenty of action as well.”
—Errant Dreams Reviews
“This tongue-in-cheek, action-packed urban fantasy hooks the reader from the opening moment . . . and never slows down.”
—Midwest Book Review
“A fast-paced urban fantasy . . . nonstop action that will keep the reader turning pages long into the night. Ashwood has created a wonderful fantasy romp that’s tough to put down until the end. I look forward to reading the next installment in this series.”
—Romance Junkies
“I think I have found a new favorite series. . . . I guess I have to wait for the next story, hopefully not for too long!”
—The Romance Studio
“Ravenous is a fantastic read, filled with action, suspense, lush details, sizzling romance, and very memorable characters. Ms. Ashwood has created a very compelling world and left us with enough questions about the fate of certain characters to have us hoping that this is the start of a very promising new series.”
—MyShelf.com
“Ms. Ashwood has created an intriguing world where both good and evil dwell in the shadows and things are rarely what they seem. Ravenous is a well-written and sexy read that makes for a great escape from the norm. I look forward to the next visit with the Dark Forgotten.”
—Darque Reviews
“Ravenous is packed with action, humor, and a drool-worthy vampire. The demons and the hellhounds and the evil house with a killer mind (oh my!) are what set it apart from the fold. A whole new mythology surrounding the supernatural and how humans police [it] is introduced, and I can’t wait to see where Ashwood takes it. This book earns 5 tombstones for creativity, sex appeal, and one kick-ass house.”
—Bitten by Books
“Sharon Ashwood hooked me from the first page! Ravenous gets off to a roaring start and the fast pace never relents. Ravenous has all the elements of a top-notch urban fantasy tale. . . . It will be hard to surpass this book! I can’t recommend this one highly enough!”
—CK2S Kwips and Kritiques
Also by Sharon Ashwood
Ravenous
Scorched
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by New American Library, a division of
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, July 2010
Copyright © Naomi Lester, 2010
eISBN : 978-1-101-18840-8
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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