“Does it matter that I’m a unicorn and you’re a werewolf?”
“No,” he said. “But we will have to talk about winters in New York.”
I laughed.
He tucked my head under his chin, and I pressed against his solid, warm chest, listening to the beat of his heart.
Sacrifice.
Love.
Always.
Epilogue
I stood in the doorway of my own campus office and watched my new personal assistant and chief ass kicker at work.
“Stop bullshitting me,” said Dove into her headset. She plopped her booted feet onto my mahogany desk. “Get me the paperwork by tomorrow or you can kiss funding for your program good-bye.” She cocked her head and listened to what was surely a stream of blustery disapproval. “Oh, yeah? Well, just try that and see what it gets you. And dead is not an excuse. Trust me.” She pushed a button on the headpiece attached to her ear and eyed me from her position behind my desk. “What are you doing here?”
“Glowing with pride,” I said, pretending to wipe a tear from my eye. “I bet whoever you just pounded into the ground is still bleeding.”
“I learned from the best.” Dove’s gaze went over my shoulder and I turned to see Doriana standing behind me, her spindly arms on her hips.
“Sea urchins,” she said. “We must have the research funding. It’s imperative—”
“Whatever you want,” I said. I looked at Dove. “Right, Dove?”
“Anyone who has punched Karn in the face has my approval,” she said. She shooed me away. “Don’t you have a mysterious and lengthy trip to take?” She waved Doriana inside. “I have a blank check, sister, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Doriana flashed me a quicksilver smile. “Excuse me.” She paused. “There’s a werewolf lurking down the hall. They can be quite brutish, dear. Be careful.”
“Oh, I will.” I waved at Dove, and then I turned and hurried toward my brute of a werewolf. “Everything’s fine. She’s kicking administration ass like a pro.”
“We should get going.”
Our trip would begin in Germany, at the castle home of Drake’s brother and his family. Then we were headed to a dig site in Belize, and after that . . . well, who knew? Dove would be my eyes and ears at the college until I returned. Staying off the radar was not just about the honeymoon, but about protection. We weren’t sure who knew about my unicorn blood, and who might want it. There were, unfortunately, a lot more Karns out there.
So, we’d stay off the grid and with each other. And that was fine by me.
Drake brought me in close for a soft, sweet kiss. Then he moved back and offered his arm. “Ready, my beauty?”
I took his arm. “Yes,” I said. “I’m ready.”
And I was.
THE BROKEN HEART TURN-BLOODS
*Jessica Matthews: Widow (first husband, Richard). Mother to Bryan and Jenny, and to adopted son, Rich Jr. Stay-at-home mom. Vampire of Family Ruadan. Mated to Patrick O’Halloran.
Charlene Mason: Deceased. Mistress of Richard Matthews. Mother to Rich Jr. Receptionist for insurance company. Vampire of Family Ruadan.
Linda Beauchamp: Divorced (first husband, Earl). Mother to MaryBeth. Nail technician. Vampire of Family Koschei. Mated to Dr. Stan Michaels.
MaryBeth Beauchamp: Nanny to Marchand triplets. Vampire of Family Ruadan. Mated to Rand.
*Evangeline LeRoy: Mother to Tamara. Teacher at night school and colibrarian of Broken Heart and Consortium archives. Vampire of Family Koschei. Mated to Lorcan O’Halloran.
Patricia “Patsy” Donovan: Divorced (first husband, Sean). Mother to Wilson, and to loup de sang triplets. Former beautician. Queen of vampires and loup de sang. Vampire of Family Amahté. Mated to Gabriel Marchand.
Ralph Genessa: Widowed (first wife, Teresa). Father to twins Michael and Stephen, and to daughter Cassandra. Dragon handler. Vampire of Family Hua Mu Lan. Mated to half dragon Libby Monroe.
Simone Sweet: Widowed (first husband, Jacob). Mother to Glory. Mechanic. Vampire of Family Velthur. Mated to Braddock Hayes.
*Phoebe Allen: Divorced (first husband, Jackson Tate). Mother to Daniel. Comanages The Knight’s Inn in Tulsa. Vampire of Family Durga. Mated to Connor Ballard.
Darlene Clark: Deceased. Divorced (first husband, Jason Clark*). Mother to Marissa. Operated Internet scrapbooking business. Vampire of Family Durga.
*Elizabeth Bretton née Silverstone: Widowed (first husband, Henry). Stepmother to Venice. Socialite and jewelry maker. Vampire of Family Zela. Mated to werejaguar Tez Jones.
*Direct descendents of the five families who founded Broken Heart: the McCrees, the LeRoys, the Silverstones, the Allens, and the Clarks.
GLOSSARY 1
GERMAN WORDS/TERMS
Deutsches Reich: German Reich also known as the Third Reich
Liebling: Darling
Mein kleiner Frechdachs: My little cheeky monkey (rascal, scoundrel)
Nein und abermals nein: A thousand times, no
Schätzchen: Little treasure
Schwarzwald: Black Forest
Was zum Teufel: What the fuck?
Wehrmacht: Unified armed forces of Germany from 1935–1945
GAELIC IRISH WORDS/TERMS
a ghrá mo chroi: Love of my heart
a stóirín: My little darling
a thaisce: My dear/darling/treasure
aiteacht: Inexplicable sense of thing or place that is not right
bard: Poet-druid (see: Filí). Storyteller and singer of Celtic tribes
céardsearc: First love/beloved one
damnú air: Damn it
deamhan fola: Blood devil
draíocht: Magic
droch fola: Bad or evil blood
druid: The philosopher, teacher, and judge of Celtic tribes
Filí: (Old Irish) Poet-druid (see: Bard)
Go dtachta an diabhal thú: May the devil choke you (Irish curse)
Is minic a bhris béal duine a shrón: Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose
Leamhán sléibhe: A Wych Elm (the only species of Elm native to Ireland)
mo chroi: My heart
Ná glac pioc comhairle gan comhairle ban: Never take advice without a woman’s guidance
Níl neart air: (lit. There is no power in it) There is no helping it
Ovate: Healer-druid; healer and seer of Celtic tribes
Solas: Light
Sonuachar: Soul mate
Súmaire Fola: Bloodsucker
Tír na Marbh: Land of the Dead
Titim gan éirí ort: May you fall without rising (Irish curse)
OTHER WORDS/TERMS
Centurion/Centurio: Professional officer in the Roman army in charge of a century, or centuria, of men
Century/Centuria: Group of 60 to 160 men in the Roman infantry led by a centurion
Durriken: Romany boy’s name that means “he who forecasts”
Fac fortia et patere: Latin for “Do brave deeds and endure”
Gadjikane: Romany for “non-Gypsy”
Muló: Romany for “living dead”
Roma: Member of nomadic people originating in Northern India; gypsies considered as a group (Also the term used for cousins of full-blood lycanthropes who can only shift during a full moon and who hunt rogue vampires)
Romany/Romani: The language of the Roma
Strigoi mort: Term for Romanian vampire
GLOSSARY 2
Ancient: Refers to one of the original eight vampires. The very first vampire was Ruadan, who is the biological father of Patrick and Lorcan. Several centuries ago, Ruadan and his sons took on the last name of O’Halloran, which means “stranger from overseas.”
banning: (see: World Between Worlds) Any one can be sent into limbo, but the spell must be cast by an Ancient or a being with powerful magic. No one can be released from banning until they feel true remorse for their evil acts. This happens rarely, which means banning is not done lightly.
binding: When vampires have consumma
tion sex (with any person or creature), they’re bound together for a hundred years. This was the Ancients’ solution to keep vamps from sexual intercourse while blood-taking. There are only two known instances of breaking a binding.
Consortium: More than five hundred years ago, Patrick and Lorcan O’Halloran created the Consortium to figure out ways that parakind could make the world a better place for all beings. Many sudden leaps in human medicine and technology are because of the Consortium’s work.
Convocation: Five neutral, immortal beings given the responsibility of keeping the balance between Light and Dark.
donors: Mortals who serve as sustenance for vampires. The Consortium screens and hires humans to be food sources. Donors are paid well and given living quarters. Not all vampires follow the guidelines created by the Consortium for feeding. A mortal may have been a donor without ever realizing it.
Drone: Mortals who do the bidding of their vampire Masters. The most famous was Renfield—drone to Dracula. The Consortium’s code of ethics forbids the use of drones, but plenty of vampires still use them.
ETAC: The Ethics and Technology Assessment Commission is the public face of this covert government agency. In its program, soldier volunteers have undergone surgical procedures to implant nanobyte technology, which enhances strength, intelligence, sensory perception, and healing. Volunteers are trained in use of technological weapons and defense mechanisms so advanced, it’s rumored they come from a certain section of Area 51. Their mission is to remove, by any means necessary, paranormal targets named as domestic threats.
Family: Every vampire can be traced to the one of the eight Ancients. The Ancients are divided into the Eight Sacred Sects, also known as the Families. The Families are: Ruadan, Koschei (aka Romanov), Hua Mu Lan, Durga, Zela, Amahté, Shamhat, and Velthur. Please note: At this time only one known vampire of the Family Shamhat exists.
gone to ground: When vampires secure places where they can lie undisturbed for centuries, they “go to ground.” Usually they let someone know where they are located, but the resting locations of many vampires are unknown. Both the Ancients Amahté and Shamhat have gone to ground for more than three thousand years. Their locations have yet to be discovered.
Invisi-shield: Using technology stolen from ETAC and ancient magic, the Consortium created a shield that not only makes the town invisible to outsiders, but also creates a force field. No one can get into the town’s borders unless their DNA signature is recognized by both the technology and magical elements.
loup de sang: Translated as “blood wolf.” The first of these vampire-werewolves were triplets born after their lycanthrope mother was drained and killed by a vampire. For nearly two centuries, Gabriel Marchand was the only known loup de sang and also known as “the outcast.” (See: Vedere Prophecy) Now the loup de sang include his brother, Ren, his sister, Anise, his wife, Patsy, and his children.
lycanthropes: Also called lycans and/or werewolves. Full-bloods can shift from human into wolf at will. Lycans have been around a long time and originate in Germany. Their numbers are small because they don’t have many females, and most children born have a fifty percent chance of living to the age of one.
Master: Most Master vampires are hundreds of years old and have had many successful Turnings. Masters show Turn-bloods how to survive as a vampire. A Turn-blood has the protection of the Family (see: Family or Sacred Sects) to which their Master belongs.
PRIS: Paranormal Research and Investigation Services. Cofounded by Theodora and her husband, Elmore Monroe. Its primary mission is to document supernatural phenomena and conduct cryptozoological studies.
Roma: The Roma are cousins to full-blooded lycanthropes. They can change only on the night of a full moon. Just as full-blooded lycanthropes are raised to protect vampires, the Roma are raised to hunt vampires.
soul shifter: A supernatural being with the ability to absorb the souls of any mortal or immortal. The shifter has the ability to assume any of the forms she’s absorbed. Only one is known to exist, the woman known as Ash, who works as a “balance keeper” for the Convocation.
Taint: The Black Plague for vampires, which makes vampires insane as their body deteriorates. The origins of the Taint were traced to demon poison. After many attempts to find a cure, which included transfusions of royal lycanthrope blood, a permanent cure has been found.
Turn-blood: A human who’s been recently Turned into a vampire. If you’re less than a century old, you’re a Turn-blood.
Turning: Vampires perpetuate the species by Turning humans. Unfortunately, only one in about ten humans actually makes the transition.
Vedere prophecy: Astria Vedere predicted that in the twenty-first century a vampire queen would rule both vampires and lycans, and would also end the ruling power of the Ancients. This prophecy was circumvented by a newer proclamation that the lycan crown prince would take a mate and rebuild his pack. Please note: Patsy was granted only seven powers out of the eight. No one is sure why.
World Between Worlds: The place between this plane and the next, where there is a void. Some beings can slip back and forth between this “veil.”
Wraiths: Rogue vampires who banded together to dominate both vampires and humans. Since the defeat of the Ancients Koschei and Durga, they are believed to be defunct.
Read on for a peek at the very first book in Michele Bardsley’s Broken Heart series,
I’M THE VAMPIRE, THAT’S WHY
Now available in eBook!
The night I died, I was wrestling a garbage can to the curb.
I had a perfectly healthy fourteen-year-old son, who should have taken out the garbage after dinner, but he, and let me quote him directly here, “forgot.”
Every Sunday and Wednesday night we had the same conversation, usually five minutes after he crawled into bed. Here’s the script:
Enter the Mother into the Pit of Despair. I refuse to walk more than a foot into the Pit because I’m afraid a radiated tentacle might emerge from a gooey pile of papers and clothes and drag me, screaming and clutching at the faded carpet, into the smells-like-lima-beans clutter. I open the door, try not to inhale any noxious boy-room fumes, and delicately scoot one Keds-protected foot inside. Cue dialogue.
“G’night, honey. And, Bry? Did you take out the garbage?”
“Oops.”
“It’s twice a week. It’s your only chore. I pay you ten bucks every Friday morning to do it.”
“It’s a heinous chore.”
“I know. That’s why I pay you to do it.”
“Sorry, Mom. I forgot.”
At this point in the twice-weekly argument, variations occurred. Sometimes, Bryan faked snores until I went away, sometimes he actually fell asleep mid-lecture, and sometimes he whined about how his nine-year-old sister, Jenny, didn’t do chores, and I still paid her five dollars every Friday morning.
So, yet again, just after ten p.m. on a Wednesday night, I found myself pulling first one, then the second thirty-gallon garbage can down the driveway, and trying to align the grimy plastic containers near, but not off, the curb. Do not get me started on sloppy, lid-flinging, half-trash-dumping garbagemen who are extraordinarily picky about the definition of “curbside pickup.”
When huge, hairy hands grabbed my shoulders and heaved me across the street and into Mrs. Ryerson’s prized rosebushes, I didn’t have time to scream, much less panic. The whatever-it-was leapt upon me and ripped open my neck, snuffling and snarling as it sucked at the bleeding wound.
Good God. What sort of man-creature could hold a grown woman down like a Great Dane and gnaw on her like a favorite chew toy? It slurped and slurped and slurped . . . until the excruciating pain (and, honey, I’ve suffered through labor twice) faded into a feeling of weightlessness. I felt very floaty, like my body had turned into mist, or like that time in college when I took a hit of acid and had the “Tinkerbell” episode. I knew that if I just let go, I’d rise into the night sky and free myself from gravity . . . from responsibility .
. . from Bryan and Jenny.
Just thinking about my kids slammed me down to earth. My husband had passed away a little more than a year ago in a car accident. Don’t feel too sorry for me, though. I was in the middle of divorcing the son of a bitch.
I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t lift my arms. I couldn’t open my eyes. But I felt my body again, every aching, pain-throbbing inch of it. The heavy, smelly thing pressing my limp body into thorny branches and noisily smacking against my throat grunted and rolled off. Dry grass crunched and leaves rattled as it moved, growling and groaning like a well-fed coyote. I didn’t flicker an eyelid for fear it would try for a killing blow, though if the state of my neck wound was as bad as I thought, I was dead anyway. Then I heard the sounds of bare feet slapping against pavement and realized the thing was running away. Fast.
I don’t remember how I disentangled my sorry self from the bushes. I have vague memories of the roses’ too sweet scent as I crawled across the street and collapsed near my knocked-over garbage cans.
For those who know me, meeting my end amid muttered curses and spilled refuse was not a great shock. But, shock or not, it was still a crappy way to go.
• • •
Some people believe that dying ends all possibilities of humiliation.
Not so.
When I awoke, I wasn’t standing at the pearly gates of heaven. Well, not unless the religious definition of “pearly gates” was way, way off base.
I was latched onto the velvety inside of a muscular male thigh, my teeth embedded in the flesh near his groin, my mouth soaked with warm, very tasty liquid.
No, the man was not wearing pants. Hell, he wasn’t wearing underwear. Who am I kidding? The man didn’t have on a stitch of clothing.
I wish I could say that the embarrassment of my cheek brushing against his testicles outweighed my need to suck his blood—and yeah, I know, ew—but it was like . . . it was like . . . a half-off sale at Pottery Barn. No, better. It was like eating, without gastrointestinal or caloric consequences, a two-pound box of Godiva’s champagne truffles. No, no . . . like . . . oh God, like finally fitting into that pair of skinny jeans that taunts every woman from the back of her closet.
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