by Sasha White
He wanted desperately to come out of this captive mental state, but nothing he’d tried had worked. The woman had power, more than he could fathom, which was why he could see her and talk to her while lying prone on a bed in Metro Phoenix Two. She was some kind of freakish princess on Third Earth, but more than that he was still piecing together.
When he’d first come under Yolanthe’s spell, or whatever the hell this was, she’d worn her hair in thick curls hanging down her back. Maybe she was trying out a new look, but for now she’d bound up her curly red hair in about two dozen thin braids, wrapping them around her head in an almost haphazard way. The effect was both unique and unsettling because at first glance it looked like she had snakes for hair.
She was beautiful in a strange way, with very light red lashes and brows, and pale blue eyes. Her white skin was flawless, not a single freckle in sight. Though tall, looking to be about six-foot-one, the woman needed some meat on her bones. She used a dark purple lipstick, bordering on black that emphasized her habitual pallor. She kept her short nails in the same Gothic shade.
Of course, she’d promised to release the trance if only he’d tell her one small piece of information: where Rachel lived.
She harped on her theme now. “Please, Duncan, just tell me where I can find Rachel. I have excellent plans for you that will one day involve ruling a large portion of this planet. And sharing the information would go a long way to convincing me that we can work together as a team.”
She had the Third Earth darkening grid operators hunting for Rachel, but the process was hit-and-miss, and could take weeks according to what she’d told him in previous conversations.
Yet, it was just a matter of time. The grid would eventually locate Rachel, then what?
But like hell he’d give up Rachel’s location, or anyone else’s for that matter. He’d die first. “Thought I should warn you that you’re probably in for a long wait.”
She smiled, chuckling softly. “I know how to wait.”
Yeah, he got that about her. She’d shared a few pertinent details. She was nine-hundred-years old, for one, and had been waiting for Duncan for decades, from the time she’d had her first vision about him.
Unfortunately, she needed him unencumbered by Rachel.
He’d tried to explain that his on-again, off-again relationship with Rachel had been off for quite some time, that his ex-girlfriend was hardly a threat. But his explanation hadn’t moved Yolanthe even an inch.
Rachel must die.
How many times had he heard Yolanthe speak those exact words?
Yolanthe paced and the leopard moved with her.
She wore a long light green silk gown and a kind of elegant, sleeveless over-gown in light blue silk that had a short train dragging over the rust-and-cream marble floor. Even if he hadn’t heard her servants addressing her with obsequious ‘yes, Princess’, repeatedly, he would have known her as royalty by her movements alone.
What he couldn’t figure out was what she wanted with him, a Militia Warrior from Second Earth. He could understand if he’d been a powerful Warrior of the Blood like Luken or Zacharius, but he wasn’t. Sure, he had a couple of emerging powers, visions, for one. But in terms of the upper echelon of ability, Yolanthe would have been better off kidnapping a What-bee instead.
While he was awake, she kept him with her like the leopard, always at her side, moving from room to room so that he’d seen the palace and her extensive gardens repeatedly.
Duncan felt like the leopard, like he was on a similar leash just as tight and commanding. And as a man used to doing and fighting, this level of inactivity kept his mind on edge.
The only time he’d seen Yolanthe even a little ruffled was when a servant had rushed in telling her that her father needed to see her at once. Even the servant had seemed upset.
She’d risen and put a hand to her chest, the only sign she was distressed; father issues, maybe. She’d left quickly only she hadn’t taken the voyeur window with her, but had left him to stare at an empty living room for hours.
Though appearing fully composed when she returned, Duncan felt certain she’d been in considerable pain. Her face was perfectly composed, but there was a certain tension in the way she walked that hadn’t been there before. He decided the woman would be good at poker; she hid what she felt really well.
In that sense, he could relate to her, because he worked damn hard not to let anyone get a good glimpse behind his mask. But then he’d had all emotional displays beat out of him during a strict childhood. Raised solely by an abusive father, his internal walls were almost as cement-like as Yolanthe’s.
Hell. Maybe they were worse.
Rachel, the woman he considered the love-of-his-fucked-up-life, had once told Duncan that he could build a wall faster than any man she’d ever known.
But then he’d been well-trained.
Yolanthe stopped pacing and moved close to look at him. “Why don’t you just tell me what I need to know? Rachel is the only thing that stands between us.”
Again, he refused to tell her anything.
Though he hadn’t been to Rachel’s home on Mortal Earth, he’d heard she’d moved to the Seattle One Colony because of the simpler, more organic lifestyle. “Sorry, Yolanthe. Not giving anything up, not tonight, not ever.”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, Duncan, but I’ve come to a decision. Your refusal to give me the information I require has made it necessary.” She drew a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I’m going to have to do a mind-dive and it’s going to hurt. A lot.”
He poked the bear. “Is that how your father hurts you? Doing mind-dives?”
She lifted her right brow a quarter of an inch.
So, he’d surprised her.
She pinched her lips together, then said, “You’re not to speak of my father, ever. Do you hear me? Because I have chosen you to work beside me, I intend to treat you with great respect.” She cupped her hands in front of her, palms up, and slapped them together gently for emphasis. “This one thing I will require of you, however, you must not disparage my father’s name. If you disobey, I won’t hesitate to perform a violent mind-dive and ruin your capacity to reason forever. No one would be able to help you then and you’d be left to rot in that hospital room.”
He was right; Daddy was the issue for this Third Earth bitch-princess.
“And now, I’m going to retrieve the information I need.”
Duncan had never had anyone do a mind-dive before, but from what he’d heard from those who’d been on the receiving end, it was extremely unpleasant.
He braced himself as she stretched a hand toward him and split his mind open like a sharp knife to a cantaloupe.
He’d made war for decades. He’d been bruised, sliced up, had bones broken and generally maimed in about every way possible, so he knew what pain was.
But what he felt right now, as the woman pierced his mind, was beyond anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Intense pain ripped through him, setting every nerve in his body on fire.
As she dove, his whole life opened up to Yolanthe, which meant very soon she’d find his memories about Rachel’s move to Seattle One.
Somehow, he had to warn Rachel.
If you’d like to know more about RAPTURE’S EDGE 1: AWAKENING then visit my webpage at http://www.carisroane.com/raptures-edge/
About Caris Roane
Caris Roane is the New York Times bestselling author of twenty-two paranormal romance books. Writing as Valerie King, she has published fifty novels and novellas in Regency Romance. Caris lives in Phoenix, Arizona, really doesn’t like scorpions, and has two cats, Gizzy and Sebastien.
Find about more about Caris Roane
Website: http://www.carisroane.com/
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t-2/
Books by Caris Roane
Author of:
Guardians of Ascension Series – Warriors of the Blood crave the breh-hedden
Dawn of Ascension Series – Militia Warriors battle to save Second Earth
Blood Rose Series – Only a blood rose can fulfill a mastyr vampire’s deepest needs
Blood Rose Tales – Mastyr vampires who hunger to be satisfied
List of Books by Caris Roane:
EMBRACE THE DARK
EMBRACE THE MAGIC
EMBRACE THE MYSTERY
EMBRACE THE PASSION
EMBRACE THE NIGHT
EMBRACE THE WILD
TRAPPED
HUNGER
SEDUCED
VAMPIRE COLLECTION
THE DARKENING
WICKED NIGHT
DARK NIGHT
The Night Beat
Necropolis Enforcement Files #1
By Gini Koch
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Length: 450 pages
Sensuality: PG-13
It’s time to kick icky butt and take unpronounceable names… A routine patrol for undercover cop and werewolf Victoria Wolfe turns into an epic battle between the undead forces of good against the Prince of Darkness’ most powerful lieutenants and his Army of Evil – the outcome of which is dependent upon Victoria’s abilities to guess what plan fallen angel Lucifer set in motion centuries earlier.
To all those who wear a badge, uphold the law,
and fight the good fight –
thank you.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks, oohs and aahs to Lisa Dovichi, Mary Fiore, Cherry Weiner, and Veronica Cook for their usual above and beyond. Thanks also to Helen King, and authors Marsheila Rockwell, Kris Tualla, Amber Scott, and Jordan Summers, for tons of help and support.
Much love to my family, particularly the hubs, for encouraging me to always go for it in everything I do, but especially in my writing career.
Special thanks to Caris Roane, for pulling this boxed set together, and a big shout out to my fellow authors in this set for making it a truly fun and collaborative experience.
Last but not least, a big thanks to my fans around the world who’ve been asking (for quite a while now) when I’d tackle the undead. This one’s for all of you.
Chapter 1
We pulled up to the scene of the crime. Such as it was. An alleyway in downtown, filled with trashcans and darkness.
“What do you think?” Jack asked as we got out of the ugly sedan that was supposed to fool the criminal class into thinking we weren’t undercover cops. So far as I could tell, it had never worked in the history of law enforcement, but we kept on perpetrating the illusion.
I looked around. There was an amazing lack of activity. There was also a lack of anything that looked even slightly crime-like. Not that this meant anything. “See, that’s what I love about you. We haven’t even taken a look at the crime scene, and you’re already asking me what I think about it.”
He shrugged. “You have good instincts.”
Yeah, if he only knew. Then again, I didn’t want him to know.
I sniffed. “Something smells awful.”
Jack pointed. “Well, those overflowing trashcans might be the stench culprit. Can your tender senses take it? Don’t want you fainting on me again.”
“Like you didn’t love it.”
He grinned. “Yeah, well, I’ll admit getting to act all heroic was kind of fun. But, damn, you come out of a faint nasty.”
Jack had been lucky I’d come out of the faint feeling sick, not hungry. Then again, I was lucky, too. Good partners are hard to come by. Good-looking ones who are also single and might, possibly, one day be interested in a high-excitement relationship were as rare as virgin groupies. Which, per some of my friends, meant very rare to potentially extinct.
I shook myself to get my mind back on the matter at hand. What I’d smelled wasn’t trash. “Why are we alone here?”
“No idea.” Jack pulled his gun as he reached into the car to grab the radio. “Darlene, this is Detective Wagner. Weren’t we supposed to have a couple black and whites here?”
The radio crackled. “Yes. Two cars, four uniformed officers.” Darlene sounded mildly worried. I was already past that.
I sniffed again. I didn’t smell anything living, though the trash could be interfering. But the stench I was picking up wasn’t trash, and the odds of anyone alive being in this alley were slim moving to none. I moved into the alley slowly, all senses on the alert.
“Victoria, get your damn gun at the ready!” Jack didn’t make it sound like a suggestion.
He was right, and I knew it. But I took out the special gun I kept at the small of my back. It was smaller, but the projectiles were more effective. I sniffed the trash bins as I went by. I also activated my wrist-com. I was far enough away from Jack that he wouldn’t hear. “This is W-W-One-Eight-One-Niner.”
“Good evening, Agent Wolfe.” The Count’s voice was silky as always. He had unperturbed down to an art form. In all the years I’d known and worked for him, he’d never once lost his cool. “Status?”
“Four uniforms and two squad cars missing. Downtown alley, loaded with trashcans and stink. Special stink.”
“We have so many varieties of special stink, Agent Wolfe. Truly, make a selection and advise.”
“Snacked on the uniforms as appetizers and ate the cars for roughage kind of stink.”
“Ah. Do you require backup?”
“Ya think? It’s just me and my partner here. My human partner.”
“Yes, the human partner you pant after.”
“Funny. The human partner I want to both keep alive and keep in the dark. I’d like to see the sunrise, too.”
The Count sighed. “It’s overrated. Fine. Aerial support on the way. Underground support already activated by Agent Goode.”
Good old Monty. I thanked the Gods and Monsters for his rebel attitude. He didn’t like to follow orders but he was all over following me. He said I always landed the best cases. If his parts didn’t fall off on a regular basis, we might be an item.
“Great news.” I was at the end of the alley. No more trashcans, no sign of anything. Murky darkness in front of me. I pointed my gun into the center of it. “This is Prosaic City Police, drop your weapons, put your hands up, and come out slowly.”
No movement, no noise. No surprise. I sighed. I couldn’t risk a look over my shoulder. I hoped Jack was still at the other end of the alley, covering me. “Fine, have it your way. This is Necropolis Enforcement. Drop any non-organic weapons, put your arms, flippers, claws, tentacles, or any other extremities up, and walk, slither, stomp, crawl, et cetera, out of the darkness or be exterminated with extreme prejudice.”
The murky darkness started boiling up and moving. It was still murky and dark, but it was forming into a shape. I stared at it as the hair on the back of my neck started to rise. My nails extended and so did my teeth. Some things you can’t stop, even if you want to. Fight or flight is in every living being that’s got mobility. And even beings like me have a fear of the dark, the old dark, built into us.
“Count?”
“Yes?”
“We are in so much trouble.”
Chapter 2
“Jack, stay back and take cover!”
I heard him shouting for backup. Great idea, but not under these circumstances. I tried to figure out how to tell him to belay that without explaining why, while at the same time backing slowly to keep out of reach of the monster in front of me.
The sound of large wings floated on the wind and I wasn’t alone any more. “Vic, what’s up?”
“Um, Amanda, I thought vamps had the best night vision and all that.”
“I was just being casual and human-like in my form of greeting.” Amanda Darling was both a vampire and my best friend. She was older than me and sometimes had trouble letting go of the old-speak. “I can see what’s in front
of us. Unfortunately.”
Someone behind me snorted. “She’s so cute, isn’t she? Pathetic, but cute.” Maurice swished into view. He didn’t have to swish, but he really enjoyed it. Unlike his sister, Maurice adapted to whatever age and mores he was in without a blink or a twitch. We all envied and hated him for that ability. “What have we here? A big, manly slime monster from the bowels of the earth? I’m all a-flutter.”
“You know, Maurice, a gay vampire is so clichéd.”
“But, Vicki, I do it so well.” Maurice and Amanda looked alike. That was it in terms of proof of real blood ties. Then again, for our kind, blood ties were made as easily as born.
The slime monster was undulating. I didn’t think that boded well for us. “Someone needs to distract Jack.”
“Ooooh, I will!” Maurice said. “He’s so tall, dark and handsome.”
Amanda and I risked it and exchanged the “he’s such a jerk” look. “Maurice, Jack’s straight,” she said. “And he’s Vic’s.”
“Not yet,” another male voice said. Ken Colt was one of the younger vamps, but he was a natural. He did the whole turning to mist and hover invisibly thing as easily as breathing. Easier, all things considered. “But I agree, the human needs to be distracted. Who do you want to do it, Vic?”
“You.” Ken wasn’t gay, wasn’t female, and Jack knew him. He knew him as my ex-boyfriend, but that wasn’t important now.
Ken sighed. “Figures. Jealous to get you back or just chat sports?”
“Whatever, Ken. Kind of busy here.”
“Doing nothing. Fine, fine, going off to distract and protect the human. I think I’m going with mind-control, though. We want all those human snacks sent back to police headquarters.”
“Good, good. Carry on.” The slime monster was forming tentacles. “Count, we’re going from bad to worse.”
“Slime monsters are difficult, Agent Wolfe, but hardly worth the panic in your voice.”
“How about something that looks like a slime monster, but isn’t. You know, something with tentacles and no face and that sort of fun thing?”