Dark of Night

by T. F. Walsh

  Emotions passed swiftly through his eyes, respect, love, regret. “Forgive me?” His lips softly brushed mine, before his fangs found my throat.

  My soul was being dragged from my body into Raf searching mouth. With each beat of my heart I grew weaker, calmer. He seemed to hold me forever, but in reality, it was only a moment before he was ripped from me. I tried to keep my eyes from closing. I fought to live. In snatches, the war raged around me, as my dream crumbled to the floor.

  Was that a wolf I saw leap onto Lilitu’s back knocking her to the floor? Raf grabbing at her head as she fell. A scream …

  My eyes opened to gaze into other eyes, black eyes, dead eyes. I pushed them away. The head rolled across the room, the eyes staring blankly at the wall. I tried to sit up.

  “Be still Connie! Drink! You have to drink!” Raf urged as he held something to my lips. It was sweet like molasses, slightly salty and — warm. I drank and drank. When I opened my eyes again, a tawny wolf leapt out the broken window frame, something black clasped in its jaws.

  CHAPTER 37

  I awoke hooked to all sorts of machines by an endless array of tubes and wires, IV’s in both arms. My right leg hung in traction, suspended above the bed. Tightness and pressure across my shoulder indicated a brace. I hurt like hell, but I was alive.

  I wasn’t alone.

  “Hey doll,” Raf held a straw to my lips. “About time you woke up.”

  Water soothed my sore throat. When had they pulled the intubation tube? “How long?” I croaked as my eyes filled.

  “A week. It’s December.” Raf sat the water glass on the table. “How do you feel?” He stared at me strangely, like maybe he wanted to ask a different question.

  “She dead? Lil?” I motioned for the glass and he held the straw to my lips, waiting until I finished before answering me.

  “Well and truly,” He told me without the hint of a smile.

  Panic seized me. “Tom?” I remembered his cry of pain.

  Raf pointed to the other side of the room. Tom lay in the other bed. He appeared dead. It must be daylight, but there was no way to tell. No windows in the vamp ward.

  “He okay?”

  “He’s fine. He refused to leave you. Once I convinced them to let me put the IV tube in his mouth instead of his arm, he came around pretty fast. He had some broken bones but they’re all healed now.”

  I sighed. “Good.” I waited for the lump in my throat to clear. “Willy?”

  Raf avoided my eyes and the tears slid down my cheeks. I couldn’t wipe them away with needles taped in my arms. I waited for the answer.

  “I’m not sure what to tell you, doll,” Raf started. “It was touch and go for the little guy. He was all broken up and in so much pain, Dr. Smith thought it might be best to put him down, but, I couldn’t.”

  “Raf, what did you do?”

  “I gave him some of my blood.” He waited for a sign before continuing, “His injuries healed and he isn’t in pain anymore.”

  I started to laugh, choked, and then laughed some more. “A vampire dachshund? You’ve got to be kidding me!” A thought occurred that made everything less funny. “Please tell me he doesn’t require dog blood?”

  “He seems pretty happy with the RR and rare steak.”

  “He can eat?” I asked in disbelief.

  “So far, and sunlight doesn’t bother him. I don’t think he turned.”

  “Raf, have you ever tried to eat solid food or go out in the light?” I had a curious notion.

  “Not since Tom found me.”

  “But before?” Was I on to something?

  “I’m not sure. That was so long ago … ” Raf was interrupted by a tap on the door.

  Dee and Jimmy came in. “Oh you’re awake! Get that nurse in here,” Dee ordered. “She said she’d pull out those needles as soon as she woke up. Get her butt in here.”

  Raf pushed the buzzer and the nurse called back and said she’d be right in. About three minutes later, Band Aids over gauze pads replaced the IV needles. Jimmy followed her back to the nurses’ station for a banana Popsicle to sooth my throat. It didn’t take him long. Dee looked like she might boil over.

  “So spill,” I told her as I sucked on the Popsicle.

  She gave a happy little hop, “We’re pregnant!” Jimmy stood beside her, arm around her waist grinning like a proud Poppa.

  I tried to squeal, choked, got slapped on the back, winced at the pain in my shoulder and choked more. “Wonderful, I’m so happy for y’all!” I finally said in a heartfelt whisper.

  “So you’ve got to hurry and get all better so you can spoil me rotten like I deserve.”

  “I will if Jimmy will get me another Popsicle.” As Jimmy stepped out Bianca stuck her head in.

  “You’re awake! Better late than never … ” She sheepishly held out her hand opening it to reveal a round orb a little smaller in circumference than a quarter. It glowed green as it sat in her palm. She placed it in mine. The green transferred from the orb to surround her like an aura. Dee didn’t glow.

  “Look at Tom,” Bianca suggested. “What do you see?”

  I turned my head as much as the shoulder brace would allow, finding Tom still sleeping, encased in a red haze. “Vampires are red,” I told her just as Jimmy returned with my second Popsicle. He glowed green! I stared at Dee and everything clicked into place. “Werewolf?”

  Jimmy took my hand, “We wanted to tell you. We were just scared.”

  “A wolf was there that night,” I said aloud. I thought I had hallucinated. I hit his arm causing my IV puncture to bleed again. Another thought occurred to me. “You weren’t in costume!” I accused. “You cheated!”

  “My every day wear. I’m all wolf at the full moon.” Jimmy explained.

  “Well, that explains the shorts.” I said. Jimmy blushed.

  Dr. Raf bit his finger and dabbed it on the bloody hole in my arm to stop the bleeding. I stared at him as his fangs retracted. “This thing’s busted.” I passed the orb back to Bianca.

  “No, it isn’t. Why would you say that?” She handed it back.

  I gazed deeply into Raf’s eyes. His aura was gold with red highlights.

  CHAPTER 38

  Just when you think your life is as strange as it can possibly get …

  After my visitors left, the handsome young resident assigned to my case sent me for another MRI. No one seemed particularly surprised to find both my broken leg and clavicle healed — except me.

  Raf had supplied my medical history, which included the fact I ingested a lot of his blood what with the torn femoral artery and all. The doctors’ little scientific brains concluded that if I woke, I would be a vampire. They had given me several pints of human blood in the hospital. Did that dilute Raf’s? I’m asymptomatic and so confused.

  After our release from the hospital, I started introducing “solid” food into Raf’s diet, nothing too heavy, and only in minuscule quantities. He ate one small bite of my baked potato last night. His reaction? As to the finest French cuisine, he rolled the bite in his mouth like expensive wine. When swallowed, it stayed down. Tom tried a bite and hurled, poor guy.

  We took Willy walking at four P.M. Sunset was at five. Raf didn’t smoke or smolder. While his eyes are a little sensitive, that’s to be expected after all these centuries. Ray Bans solve the problem. Tom’s so jealous. I need to work on him.

  My human best friend is having a baby, cub, or possibly a puppy. Hell, I don’t know! I’m not sure they do either. Jimmy’s Mom and Dad are both werewolves, from a long line of werewolves, his brothers, ditto. But a cross between a Were and a human witch, doesn’t happen often. So we’re all trying to read up. Especially Nancy, as she will be bringing the little one into the world. In the meantime, Dee’s craving very rare meat. Urgh! But who am I to talk
. I bite a vampire most every night. What can I say? I love him! Whether it was Dee’s influence or Lil’s that got me to drop my force field, what I feel for him is the real deal.

  Dee says she needs to tell me something. I’m sure she’ll get around to it when things calm down.

  Detective Becki Elms thinks John Doe’s demise is linked to S.E.T.H. She speculates they caught “John” and tortured him until they found what killed him permanently. But, how does that explain the magic surrounding him?

  Vampires can take a lot of abuse and recover but they still feel pain. Had his killers pulled out his brain while he was still alive? Had they cut out his heart first? Dear Lord!

  Some humans are less than happy Tom is “harvesting human blood” for vampire kind. The harvesting being not only consensual but also lucrative for said humans only incites them more. Human donors are merely being “fattened for slaughter” according to their propaganda. Well, Tom’s company has gotten no complaints from the “cattle”. In my opinion Harley and his cohorts are the more likely minions of S.E.T.H., but then, I’m not a detective.

  Whatever the case, someone wants us safe from S.E.T.H., and any other weirdoes who lurk about. The bodyguards have been with us since our release us from the hospital. What a pain.

  Tom says the house repairs will be finished before the redbuds bloom. I can’t wait!

  Terrell called to say he’s coming back this weekend and is sorry he freaked out. He doesn’t realize how close he came to losing Raf for good. Raf won’t let me tell him. He’s all a-twitter with T’s homecoming, Christmas Eve karaoke at the salon, plans for Christmas dinner, furniture shopping with me, sunsets …

  At the time of our deaths, my dog and I may or may not become vampires. Only one way to be sure, so we aren’t rushing to find the answer.

  Raf is still a mystery. I haven’t seen anyone with a gold aura — much less with red highlights.

  My life, could it get weirder? Don’t answer that!

  About the Author

  Debbie Vaughan lives in rural central Arkansas with nine dogs and two horses, all rescues. The dogs keep her feet warm and plot bunnies at bay so she can concentrate on the romance at hand. Occasionally, one of the hounds slips into the storyline!

  She is a member of Romance Writers of America as well as her local chapter, Diamond State Romance Authors.

  Discover more about her here:

  http://www.debbievaughan.com/

  http://www.getbit-bymyfreereads.blogspot.com/

  amazon.com/author/debbievaughan

  https://www.facebook.com/author.debbievaughan

  https://twitter.com/dvaughan2010

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  Her Ghost Wears Kilts by Kathleen Shaputis

  Into the Woods

  J.W. Ashley

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2012 by Jessica Ashley Wise

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-5856-6

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5856-6

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-5857-4

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5857-3

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123rf.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  Chapter 2: WHAT’S IN A NAME

  Chapter 3: GETTING TO KNOW YOUR FRIENEMY

  Chapter 4: A LITTLE STALKING GOES A LONG WAY

  Chapter 5: TEAMWORK

  Chapter 6: THE LAST LAUGH

  Chapter 7: EVERYTHING CHANGES

  Chapter 8: ALL THE KING’S MEN

  Chapter 9: BETRAYAL

  Chapter 10: CAGED

  Chapter 11: IN BLOOD

  Chapter 12: THE BEST LAID PLANS

  Chapter 13: ASCENSIONS

  Chapter 14: REUNIONS AND RENEWED HOPES

  Chapter 15: BLOODY BUSINESS AND BUSINESS AS USUAL

  Chapter 16: GROWING PAINS

  Chapter 17: IN PRISON FOR QUITE A SPELL

  Chapter 18: IN RUINS

  Chapter 19: HEROES

  Chapter 20: HEROINES

  Chapter 21: POSSESSION

  Chapter 22: HOME IS WHERE THE HEARLTESS VAMPIRE IS

  Chapter 23: IN THE LIGHT OF MORNING

  Chapter 24: TELL ALL THE TRUTH

  Chapter 25: TEACHING NEW CHARGES

  Chapter 26: UNHEARD CONFESSIONS

  Chapter 27: ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR

  Chapter 28: LESSON ONE

  Chapter 29: LESSON TWO

  Chapter 30: LESSON THREE

  Chapter 31: STALEMATE

  Chapter 32: DREAMS

  Chapter 33: HE COULD HAVE DANCED ALL NIGHT

  Chapter 34: CHECKMATE

  Chapter 35: MODERN ROMANCE

  Chapter 36: NOT SO HAPPILY EVER AFTER

  Chapter 37: EVERYTHING THAT RISES …

  Chapter 38: THE ART OF LOVE AND WAR

  Chapter 39: LIGHT AND BRIGHT AND SPARKLING

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  Chapter 1: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  Grabbing the dagger by the end of the blade, Libby flung the knife deeply into the center of the target; it gave a satisfying thwap. But she knew if she tried it running, tried hitting it with her own speed factored in, it wouldn’t land home. She knew because she’d been watching it all morning, bouncing off the target, landing in the grass, sailing into nearby bushes. Yep. No doubt about it. She was going to die. Today. Fate would have as little sympathy with her as her enemies would.

  Standing with her feet shoulder width apart, Libby breathed deeply, clearing her head. It was the day of the trials … and she still couldn’t hit the target.

  Her people didn’t rely on weapons — but Libby wasn’t like the others. She needed something, anything, to keep the vampires at bay. Because, unlike the rest of the wolves in the trials, she couldn’t shift. She had been trying for years now to master these knives, but without instruction, progress was slow. There were none in the camp who used them or practiced with them.

  Feeling overwhelmed, she threw the knife, blade-first, into the soft ground below her and sat down beside it. Picking at the grass, pulling it up and tossing it away, she tried to understand what was going on with her aim. Normally she could hit the target, but today? She was going to be mauled, sucked dry, and left for dead. For sure. Though, come to think of it, death might be a good alternative to what she would go through if she lost. If she lost, she would have to face her family. So, really, things could be worse.

  The entire pack was watching her, and they all believed she was going to fail. They expected it, waited for it — maybe they even wanted it. She hoped that would all change today. She wanted them to see that she was strong and reliable. She needed to show them that she could rule, that she was more than they thought her to be.

  But what if she couldn’t show them? What if she wasn’t strong? What if she was exactly what they had always thought her: a shame?

  She had to stop thinking like this. She leaped up, wiping the grass from her legs. The problems with her aim were all in her head. She just needed to find a way to calm down. She knew where to go — her home away from home. Jumping up into a nearby tree, she balanced on a limb and took a look around, making sure none of her father’s people were watching. He hated when sh
e used her magic to move around, but she also didn’t want him to track her. The last thing she needed before the trials was a meeting with her father.

  Scanning the thick green forest around her, Libby saw only the movement of the limbs moving in the wind, only the sway of the small trees. The ferns on the dark forest floor were motionless. She was alone. Climbing quickly through the branches to reach the center of the tree, she jumped from limb to limb, moving quickly over the forest floor, the world below her passing in a blur. She leapt quickly, silently, making her way back to the old schoolhouse. Maybe it was childish, but she just wanted to go back to a time when things were a little simpler.

  Of course, even back then she had been aware that the other children treated her differently, but, mercifully, she didn’t understand why. She had recognized that her father was cold, but she hadn’t known yet that he did not approve of her. Now she knew he despised her for her weakness, her size, for being unable to shift, for being born a girl, for laughing, for a litany of reasons that he “helpfully” recited back to her. Back then, she had only known him as distant. Ah, the good old days. She laughed at herself. How maudlin, she thought, one side of her mouth lifting up in a self-deprecating smile.

  After a few minutes, the tree line abruptly ended, opening onto a small clearing. High thickets grew in one corner, next to a low creek. Near the water, a burst of white color: an old peach tree was flowering, although it wasn’t the right time of year. One of the women must have come by and worked a spell to keep the thing in bloom. The whole meadow was locked in time, refusing to let go of spring.

  The school itself was as it had always been. Dark wood, almost black in color, formed the base of the walls; laid in thin vertical slats it looked a little like a fence. Above, thick white planks finished the walls and, conspicuously, held no windows. The roof was a sloping and steep pitch of gray tiles. During the school year, the building provided protection and privacy for its pupils, but now it had been left open, and nature had started to have her say. Weeds grew into the cracks of the wood on the walls and around the open doorway.