by Nina Pierce
Shadows of Fire
A woman forced to live a life she didn’t choose …
Thirty years ago, a horrendous attack in the California mountains thrust chemistry student, ALEXANDRA FLANAGAN, into the secret world of vampires. Now, unable to stomach the thought of drinking blood from another person, she survives on a chemical blood wine. But there are some who secretly disapprove of her clandestine activities and will do anything to stop her.
A vampire of honor protecting humans …
Ancient vampire, REESE COLTON, is part of an elite military operation seeking out and eliminating rogue vampires. Undercover as a firefighter, he and his team have been called in to investigate the unusual number of fires covering up the murders of vampires living on Alex’s blood wine.
A murderer seeking revenge …
When chemistry ignites passion, Reese and Alex find themselves embroiled in an affair that catches them both unaware. With the number of fires escalating and evidence against Alex mounting, Reese isn’t sure whether to follow his heart or the clues as he seeks to find a murderer in the Shadows of Fire.
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* Praise for BLIND HER WITH BLISS (Tilling Passions Series Book 1):
5 STARS Miz Loves Books ~ Ms. Pierce has penned a wonderful mystery with twists and turns that will keep the reader guessing until the very end.
5 RIBBONS Romance Junkies ~ … the best contemporary romance I have read this year. A hot and sweet story…a book to go back to when you are in a sentimental mood.
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* Praise for DECEIVE HER WITH DESIRE (Tilling Passions Series Book 2):
4 STARS Just Erotic Reviews ~ The suspense plays perfectly with Ayden and Deirdre’s romance making you want to keep reading without any breaks…I really enjoyed [Deceive Her With Desire] and can’t wait to read the other stories in this series.
5 STARS Romance Writers Reviews ~ This book had me literally on the edge of my seat. It was a hot romance filled with suspense. I will be looking for more books by Nina Pierce, she is an incredible author!
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* Praise for CHEAT HER WITH CHARM (Tilling Passions Series Book 3):
4.5 STARS The Readers Round Table ~ Loved, loved, loved the suspense in Cheat Her With Charm by Nina Pierce! I was impressed with the plot, the set up, and the well written story line that really had me hooked from the beginning.
Shadows of Fire
Nina Pierce
Copyright © 2012 by Nina Pierce
Amazon Edition
Published by Nina Pierce of Rhode Island. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. (www.NinaPierce.com)
Email
[email protected]
Cover Artist
Dar Albert
www.WickedSmartDesigns.com
Edited by
Sydney Bailey-Gould
www.CatWhiskerStudio.com
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Dedication
To firefighter Terence Keenan of Milford, CT who’s one of those brave heroes we
tend to take for granted. I appreciate all the time you took patiently answering my
questions about firefighting however silly they may have been. And you did it all with
that Irish charm and quick smile … your wife Kristan is a very lucky woman.
Acknowledgement
I couldn’t have written this book without the help of Rich Wark of the Presque Isle fire department and dear friend and author, Pam Champagne, whose hand-holding was invaluable. I would also like to note that any errors in firefighting facts are completely my responsibility.
Because sometimes—no matter what you tell an author—we have to do it our own way.
Shadows of Fire
by
Nina Pierce
Chapter One
It wasn’t much of a noise, just an inconsequential thump in the night that was enough to rouse Professor Paul Morgan from his dreamless slumber. Still cradled in the gentle arms of sleep, his blood thick with sleeping medication, he wasn’t sure if he’d simply imagined the sound. But when another muffled bang was followed by a whoosh of air—he had no doubt the commotion coming from the first floor had nothing to do with his mischievous tabby, Zeus.
Drowsiness fogged his mind and blunted his coordination as he fumbled for his eyeglasses on the nightstand. Paul swung his feet to the floor and slipped them into well-worn leather slippers. He shuffled in the dark, still unable—even after thirty years of living alone—to disturb a wife long since departed. Life without his soul mate had been lonely at best, agonizing at worst. Nothing, not even his life’s research, filled the void she’d left in his heart. He grabbed his robe from the hope chest at the foot of the bed and rushed from the bedroom.
The eerie orange glow emanating from his den at the bottom of the stairs wrapped iron bands of dread around his chest, stealing his breath. Everything near and dear to him was in that room; his wife’s portrait, the marble Sphinx from their honeymoon in Egypt, the antique bookcase she’d given him when he’d been awarded the chemistry department chair at the university—the bronzed baby shoes.
His feet barely touched the treads as he rushed down the stairs, caution and prudence gone with the desperate need to salvage his memories. He came up short at the threshold.
Swallowing hard, Paul worked to dislodge his heart wedged in his throat. Sharp claws of fear lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. A fire crackled safely in the fireplace across the room. Its orange and gold flames cloaked the person behind his desk in an otherworldly radiance, casting a sinister shadow that twisted and swelled along the paneled walls.
A quick glance at the file cabinet in the corner reassured him his files were safe, but did nothing to assuage his apprehension. The research papers he’d left neatly stacked there were strewn haphazardly across its surface.
He spoke to the back of the intruder’s head. “Wha … wha … what are you doing?”
There was no response save for the clicking of computer keys.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m calling the police—” Paul said.
A maniacal laugh rent the stillness, sending shards of Arctic terror and adrenaline surging through his veins.
“No, Professor Morgan. We both know you cannot do that.” With a flourish, a hand came down hard on the keyboard. The monitor flicked rapidly through several screens before going black.
“What have you done?” Paul rushed to the desk. A chilling wave of nausea rolled over the tightness in his chest, bringing water to his eyes. All the data and notes he’d accumulated over four decades were on that computer. Everything.
“I didn’t want it to happen this way.” The words carried sadness, but the face that turned to stare at him was pure evil. A face he barely recognized. “You really shouldn’t have been quite so diligent in your vampire research, you know, Professor. You’re no match for their superiority. I sent obvious warnings for months, hoping you’d abandon this foolhardy course. But you ignored the signs.” A clicking tongue scolded him as if he were an obstinate child. Fingers steepled in front of lips thin with hatred. “A shame really. I have no doubt your brilliant mind will be missed by your colleagues. But you and your work have become too much of a li
ability to the vampire population to be allowed to live.”
“You can’t get away with murder.”
“Oh, I think we both know I have, and I will again.”
Paul suspected the person rising out of the chair was referring to the rash of unsolved fires in South Kenton over the past summer. He refused to shudder as cold fingers of disgust walked up his spine. People had died in each of those blazes and the local fire department had no clue the monster standing before him was likely responsible for all of them. Until this moment he would have considered this person a friend. But obviously he’d morphed into a heinous murderer—a murderer with no conscience and a moral compass that pointed straight to hell.
It had become brutally obvious the moment he’d entered the room, Paul would not survive this night. He threw back his shoulders and lifted his chin, accepting his fate with dignity. “I’ve already sent a copy of all of that to my lawyer.” He waved at the papers on the desk. “He knows. He knows and understands everything. None of this will stop when I’m dead.” Paul was pleased he could push the lie steadily past the panic clogging his throat. He’d been planning for months to save his research somewhere more permanent, but time and distractions had kept him from the task.
“Please, don’t insult my intelligence.” The murderer gathered the papers on the desk and tapped them on its polished cherry surface. Elegant fingers aligned the edges before unceremoniously dropping them into the fire.
“Nooo …” Paul lunged at the fireplace, but the hungry flames devoured everything he’d lived for over the last three decades. He wasn’t able to salvage even a small scrap of paper. “You don’t know what you’ve done. People are depending on that research.”
“No one that matters. There isn’t a true vampire walking this earth who believes in what you’re doing.” The smile was reptilian, as if Satan himself had taken possession of this wayward soul. “And we both understand what is to come is inevitable. Preordained, if you will—”
“You won’t get away with this.” Paul was repeating himself, but terror had stripped him of any coherent thought.
“But I already have.” Several small objects flew from long fingers. Blue flames erupted on Paul’s desk. A ball of fire jumped to the leather chair next to the hearth. Another flew to the Aubusson rug he and his wife had bought on their honeymoon fifty years ago.
“Stop!”
“What you began, I will finish tonight.”
Paul grabbed the decorative throw on the back of the couch, intent on pounding the growing flames into submission.
Another burst of evil laughter split the air as the crystal vase on the mantel exploded in the growing heat of the fire. “That’s right, old man. Try to stop it.”
Paul brought the blanket down hard on the fire spreading like a sickness across the rug. But the rapacious blaze would not be denied. It rapidly consumed the jacquard drapes and licked at the ceiling. The black smoke choking the air filled his nose and burned his lungs. He needed to get out. Abandoning the blanket, he turned to run.
He saw the murderous demon raise the small ottoman only seconds before it crashed down on Paul’s world.
* * * *
“Oh, screw you, Burkett.” Reese Colton threw his cards down as the man across the table collected the two paper IOU’s along with a pile of money. Testosterone and laughter filled the fire station kitchen. “You all suck!” Reese drained the drink at his elbow.
His best friend leaned back in the wooden chair and flicked the scrap of paper with his finger. “Oh, you’ll pay up on this one, buddy.” Josh Burkett flashed his familiar shit-eating grin. Only braces and modern dentistry had altered its appearance in the two centuries Reese had known him. “Not only do I have it in writing,” the chair banged down hard on the linoleum floor as Josh leaned over the marred table, shooting Reese a smug look of satisfaction, “I’ve got witnesses.” His outstretched arm indicated the four other firefighters sitting around the table.
Reese had never welshed on a bet, especially if it was more along the lines of a dare or involved a woman—this one was both. Wagering an official date with the owner of the firefighter’s local watering hole against Josh’s month of station cleaning duties seemed like a sure thing. Now that he’d lost the bet, Reese was having his doubts. He’d been flirting his way around the woman for months—had even managed a friendly kiss or two—but he’d sidestepped anything deeper. A complicated relationship just wouldn’t work around all the shit going on his life at the moment.
And a relationship with Alexandra Flanagan would be nothing but trouble.
But with Josh pathetically lusting after some co-ed, his friend had goaded Reese into the bet. “You haven’t had anything better than a straight all night, Burkett.” Reese gathered the cards off the table and put them back in the box. “With a full boat, it was a pretty safe bet I’d be pocketing that paper and you’d have your head stuck in the station toilets for the next month.” His hand shot out, attempting to snatch the IOU from Josh.
“Oh, hell no! You’re not backing out of this one.” Josh’s superior reflexes were as quick as Reese’s, keeping it from his grasp. He tucked the paper safely in the shirt pocket of his uniform. “This is our golden ticket to a front row seat of pure entertainment.”
Timmons leaned in conspiratorially. “I’d be happy to cover that bet for you, Colton. I’m just afraid one night with me and that sexy Irish barmaid would find you just couldn’t measure up.”
“A woman would choose a life of celibacy over a night with you, Timmons.” McLeod laughed as he cleared away the empty nacho plates, wing dishes and the drinking glasses, depositing them all in the industrial sink.
Friendship, boredom, and the late hour made the whole situation humorous—at least to the other men in the room.
“I’m thinking this date needs to happen in the next—”
The shrill ring of the alarm speared through the firehouse, cutting Josh off mid-sentence. Conditioning and quick reflexes pressed the men into action. Chairs scraped across the floor and boots pounded through the adjoining day room.
“Attention South Kenton fire.” The dispatcher’s disembodied voice filled the newly charged atmosphere. “Repeat. Attention South Kenton fire. Structure fire, East Brooker Road. Witnesses report potential occupants …”
Six men slid down the brass pole, donning their bravery with their bunker gear.
* * * *
Glenn Karr set the fancy glass on the bar in front of the blonde, wondering when life had gotten so complicated.
Thirty years ago he’d bought O’Malley’s Tavern and catered to the everyday Joe of South Kenton. Hard working men who drank their liquor straight up or from a tap, ate their food deep fried and full of calories and watched their sports on grainy televisions. It wasn’t until recently the younger crowd had been clamoring for mixed drinks with silly names and a menu that now included gluten-free pizza dough and salads. And despite the fact they all carried their lives in those foolish iPhones, his new clientele had insisted he hook up Wi-Fi and HDTV.
Life over the centuries had certainly become more complicated.
“That man of yours picking you up?” he asked the woman.
“Josh? No, unfortunately he’s working at the fire station tonight. Why do you ask?”
He nodded at the third pomegranate martini Hope Grayson had ordered. An hour hadn’t passed since she’d slipped in the door and dropped herself on his stool. A regular on the arm of one of the local firefighters, Hope wasn’t normally alone at the tavern. With recent events, Glenn wasn’t pleased she’d shown up without an escort. From the look of her disheveled hair and the sweat pants hanging low on her hips, he suspected she wasn’t too happy about the situation either.
“Yeah, well I’m not driving home if that’s what you’re worried about.” She dragged her long nail around the rim of the glass. “I was bored and walked over from my apartment.” She craned her neck to look around the bar. “I was kind of hoping to talk to your
partner in crime and maybe bum a ride home with—”
“Evening, Glenn.” Ronan Nason sauntered into the tavern. His Armani suit jacket, pressed khakis and Italian boots were several steps above the local clientele. “Is it too late for a man to get a drink in this fine establishment?”
After nearly a year of living on the west coast, the man’s heavy brogue hadn’t softened any more than his pretentious attitude. “We close in an hour. Just like every Thursday night.”
“Well then I’ll have a glass of your finest Merlot.” Ronan leaned against the bar, leaving only a stool between him and the blonde, who was working to ignore him. She seemed to be one of the few females in town not enamored by his charm. “Evening, Hope.” Ronan touched the brim of a hat he wasn’t wearing. “I’m surprised to see you here. Nothing newsworthy going on tonight?”
She flashed him a sarcastic smile and batted her lashes. “Like another grant to the university chemistry department for pig research?”
Glenn set the glass of wine in front of Ronan, biting back a smile. The huge sum of money that had been gifted to the university had actually been funneled into the chemistry department from Ronan’s employer. It was more important to residents of South Kenton than humans realized. The fluff news piece Hope had done a few days ago had been carefully scripted by Professor Paul Morgan, head of the chemistry department, to look like another useless analysis of swine disease.
Since Ronan had known the true impetus behind the grant money, it had galled him to do the interview. Undercover as a grad student working in the chemistry department, he’d been the one traipsing through the pig muck at Glenn’s farm with a cameraman, while Glenn’s business partner, Associate Professor Alexandra Flanagan had been interviewed in the comfort of her office at the university.