Immortal Blood
An immortal Heart Novel
By
Magen McMinimy
©2012 by Magen McMinimy
Dedication
For my sister, Sarah.
Sometimes we have to fight for what we want. Rarely, when things come easy, are they truly worth much. Keep your head up and relish in the life you’ve fought for. It’s a blessed one.
Acknowledgements
A special thank you to Cynthia Shepp for her outstanding re-editing of this book in February of 2014. I can now be proud of Bain and Izzy story.
Also a special thanks to Martina Dalton at www.TheAuthorsRedRoom.com
For a beautiful Cover!
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
Also By the Author
Copyright
About the Author
Chapter One
The need for a little sweet luck was itching under the surface of Zander’s taut skin. He’d been at this for weeks now and yet his need was still as strong as ever; a deep itch under his skin that called for just a little more.
His date tonight would satisfy his body’s call for the sweet luck humans so easily took advantage of. Isabelle was one young, successful human; he could smell the satisfaction she would bring. She had caught his eye the second he stepped into the club. The younger version of herself, probably her sister, told her something that had her laughing out loud. She was a stunning example of what good fortune provided. She was beautiful and elegant, with a quick wit, a fearless nature, and a charm to her smile that could draw any man to her will.
He’d had to work to get her to agree to let him take her to dinner. He could have called her luck to him last night at the club, but he wanted this date. This sweet little human was worth the triple-digit dinner bill.
She was smart too, refusing to let him pick her up. She carried the caution every woman should when living alone and going out with a man for the first time.
Zander pulled his rented Lexus up to the valet desk and tossed the keys at the pimple-faced teenager; the kid looked like he wanted to piss his pants. Zander found the human race’s obsession with the material items in their world distasteful. What was inside humans was what excited him.
He caught sight of the curvy female silhouette that was his mark. She sat on the high bar stool with her luscious, though not all that long, legs hugged by formfitting, dark indigo denim. She had one draped suggestively over the other. A pair of sexy, black leather boots reached to mid-calf, and a black, long-sleeved, V-neck sweater hugged the rich curve of her breasts.
Zander felt his cock twitch as he took a long, lust-filled perusal over the body of his mark. Lust for a mark’s body didn’t usually accompany his lust for the feed, but this beautiful human was sparking both inside of him.
He was looking forward to this feed.
“You look luscious,” he purred as he took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles.
Isabelle—his mark—smiled at him, arching one of her perfect, dark brows.
“And here I thought I might have been underdressed.”
“No, my beautiful, you look good enough to eat,” he murmured, a pun only he caught, but it made him smile all the same.
“Let’s start with dinner,” she said coyly. The little human was teasing and flirting with him.
It really was going to be a good night.
“So Zander, what do you do for a living?” Isabelle asked as she raised her crystal wineglass to her glossed lips.
Zander smiled, taking a swig from his own glass. “I play the stock market. I like to test my luck.”
Isabelle smiled. “Sounds more like a poker player.”
“I do enjoy a good card game from time to time.”
Isabelle nodded. She was intrigued. Of course, had this man not intrigued her last night at the club, she wouldn’t have found herself here tonight. Marie—her baby sister—had pushed Isabelle to take this date, to get herself out there. Marie had pointed out time and time again that Iz—as she called her—needed to step back from her busy schedule and find time to enjoy the last year of her twenties.
Zander was an impressive-looking man. He was tall and slender, with sharp features and thick, sandy-colored hair. His deep emerald eyes seemed to sparkle as they narrowed in on her lips.
The waiter drew his attention, giving Isabelle a break from the intensity of his stare.
They had a comfortable conversation as they ate their meal, talking about her work and family. Zander was more interested in listening to her talk than sharing very much about himself. Isabelle didn’t mind; it was nice to have a handsome man interested in what she had to say.
“Where did you park, Isabelle?” Zander asked as they exited the restaurant.
Isabelle smiled and gestured towards her silver Audi. It, along with her modest suburban home, was her pride. They were the perks of her hard work.
“Nice,” Zander smiled and followed her to her baby. “How does a nightcap sound?” he asked.
Isabelle smiled, a sultry twist to her pouty lips. A nightcap sounded good to her.
“What’d you have in mind?” Her voice had a sultry edge as she asked.
Zander ran a finger along her jawline. “Follow me.”
Izzy slid into the smooth leather of her seat. She pulled her lip gloss from her purse and lathered a thick layer on her lips, while she waited for Zander to pull around so she could follow him. It was a little brazen for her, seeing as how she had no idea where he was leading her, but she wasn’t ready for the night to be over. It was Friday and, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to work on Saturday.
Chapter Two
“He was here.” Uriah could taste Zander’s magic in the air.
He and Bain scanned the parking lot of the posh, expensive restaurant.
“Well, he’s gone now.” Bain grunted. “I don’t see any victims this time.”
“Maybe he figured out he was taking too much? He had to know we would be after him after the last one didn’t survive.”
Somehow, Bain didn’t think much would stop Zander. He didn’t care about his victims and when his feedings came back around, he lost control a little more.
Bain spotted a skinny kid—kid by his standards—wearing black pants, a white, but
ton-up shirt, and a red vest, making his way through the sea of expensive vehicles.
“Hey,” Bain called out to the kid.
The guy stopped, his eyes becoming a little wide as he looked at Bain. He was intimidating when you measured somewhere around five-foot-seven and weighed about a buck thirty to Bain’s six-foot-four and nearly twice the kid’s weight.
“Uh yeah, you aren’t supposed to be over here.”
Bain smirked. “Yes, I’m sure I’m not. Tell me, have you seen this guy?” Bain pulled a small surveillance picture from his pocket; it showed Zander smiling with his hand resting on the small of his last victim’s back.
The kid eyed Bain suspiciously before checking out the picture.
“Oh, sure, he left about an hour ago. He had a wicked Lexus, but that’s not the same chick I saw him leaving with.”
Bain nodded. “Did you see which way he went?”
“Uhh,” the kid pondered for a second. “Yeah, he went north on Main, the chick following in her little Audi.”
“What kind of Audi and what kind of Lexus?”
“It was a four-door Audi, silver, maybe an A6, pretty sweet looking too. Now the Lexus, that was an amazingly wicked car. I love cars.” The kid smirked as he started to rattle off the details of the Lexus. “It was an LFA. Can you believe that? I mean, we’re talking like a three hundred and seventy thousand some odd dollar car. Man, I never thought I would get behind the wheel of something that wicked.”
Bain cleared his throat. Wicked? Did the kid have any other words in his vocabulary? “What color was it?”
“Aw, it was a sweet, bright red.”
Bain snorted. Of course Zander would be riding around in a bright red, outrageously expensive car. Compensating much?
“Thanks.” Bain handed the kid a fifty for his troubles and ran for Uriah.
“They went north about an hour ago. She’s in a silver Audi. He’s in a red Lexus.”
Uriah nodded and they took off, searching the parking lots for the pair of standout cars.
Fifteen minutes later, they found them, not just the cars, but Zander and his latest mark.
The female, who was dwarfed by Zander’s height, was pressed against the door of her car. His fingers snaked through her dark hair, forcing her head back, so his mouth could consume hers. That wasn’t all he was consuming though. Uriah could feel the exchange of energy below them; his telekinesis allowed him to feel it as it moved from the small female to Zander.
Their lips were locked, one of Zander’s hands moving from her hair down her neck, brushing against her full breast, and then sliding to the small of her back, where he pulled her possessively closer to him.
Bain couldn’t help but feel bad for the female. She had fallen prey to Zander’s charms, and even from his and Uriah’s vantage point, he could sense her arousal. She was enjoying every minute, falling into desire as Zander connived and stole from her.
Bain shook his head and descended upon them. He’d seen enough.
With massive speed, and probably a little too much force, Bain ripped the female from Zander’s groping hands and shoved her aside.
Isabelle shook her head at the impact as she hit the cement.
Wings… those were massive, beautiful, whitish gold wings. They’d descended on her. It was crazy, Isabelle knew that. She watched in awe as her seemingly nice, perfectly hot, and normal date fought the massive man with the wings. Again, she shook her head, wondering what the hell was going on.
Isabelle began replaying the evening, trying to dissect everything. It started with a fantastic dinner and pleasant conversation. Zander was someone her father would have approved of—that was always the first thing she tried to determine when she went out with a new guy. It wasn’t easy for her to find men her father would approve of her dating. He was a former detective who always scrutinized her dates. Zander would have passed the test. He was intelligent and interesting, if a little lacking in the details, but he easily carried on a conversation.
He was handsome with a good job. Based on his clothing, and the car she had followed over here, he was well enough off to support a family someday. That was important to both of her parents; family was everything.
Her mother would have doted on him, forcing the man to eat one of her five-course meals. Her mother was a firm believer that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and she firmly believed a family meal was the ending every day required. Again, it was about the connection of a family.
That would never work for Izzy—she didn’t cook. For twenty-nine years, the women of her family had tried to force her to pick up the skill, but Izzy just didn’t get the gene. Her grandmother tried passing all the family recipes down. Her sisters had picked it up. Eppie had cooked her way into the perfect marriage complete with two little ones, and Marie was headed in that very same direction. But Isabelle would never reel in a man with her water-burning skills.
Wait. What was wrong with her? How hard had she hit her damn head? This was hardly the time to worry about her cooking skills or lack thereof. There was a fucking winged man attacking her date.
Her mind was having trouble wrapping itself around the fact that the man had wings, and he was winning, throwing blows and forcing her date back… her perfectly adequate date. Izzy went for her purse to call someone, but who?
Um yeah, there’s a man with large, kind of beautiful white wings attacking my date. He might be an angel. Yeah, that would land her on a twenty-four hour psych eval.
“You should have stayed out of here, Zander,” the winged man growled.
Were those fangs? Did he have wings and fangs? Ok, so not an angel.
“Bain,” Zander cooed; it sounded almost sinister. “This does not concern you.”
Bain growled. “It does now; you crossed the line with the last one. Jenny Dale did not survive.”
“She was just one human. Let it go.”
“One woman, of how many over the past six weeks? You suck at covering your tracks.”
“Awe, the misfortune of bad luck.” Zander sneered.
“It’s not bad luck, Zander. It is loss of luck all together.”
“Pssh, so what? One didn’t survive? This one may not either if you keep worrying about me and not her.”
Bain chanced a glance at where the woman had landed. He may have tossed her a little harder than necessary when he pulled her from Zander’s grip. He’d help her with her injuries later, if she required any healing.
“Uriah!” Bain called out. “The female.”
Uriah dropped from the sky, pulling his mahogany wings back into his shoulder blades, and hit the ground running. He’d stayed above as Bain took on Zander. The big guy needed the release after chasing after Zander for the past couple of weeks.
Uriah dodged one car just in time to grab Isabelle before the oncoming truck would have taken her down, adding another poor soul to Zander’s list.
What the hell was going on with her? Isabelle was losing it. She couldn’t call anyone and hearing the two fighting men speak of her and whoever Jenny was as human and females, made her skin tingle with a shiver that told her she needed to get away. The un-giving steel of an arm crashing around her waist, as that half-ton Dodge nearly took her out, had her fighting for her life. She needed to get to calmer surroundings, where she could take a breath and figure out what the hell was going on. Had she been drugged? Was she hallucinating?
Isabelle thrashed in Uriah’s arms. He didn’t blame the poor thing. Bain and Zander were going at it, fighting viciously with a scornful lashing of words. Uriah watched the exchange and felt for the shivering woman in his arms. Bain may be the looks of their clan, but anything with his size and presence descending on and beating the hell out of your date would be frightening. Once you added in his ash blond wings and the fangs, the poor woman must have thought herself crazy.
Uriah pulled the poor, struggling woman back towards the darkened parking lot. He was sure that didn’t give her a warm, fuzzy feel
ing. He released his full-body hold on her and replaced it with a gentle, but firm grasp on her upper arm.
“It’s going to be fine; you’re safe,” he said softly.
Safe? Isabelle wasn’t even going to respond to that… not that she had any form of response.
“My name is Uriah. I’m here to help you. What’s your name?”
Isabelle shook her head “Isabelle… people call me Izzy.”
What was she thinking? He didn’t need to know her name.
“It’s going to be ok, Izzy.”
Yeah it was, because as soon as she had her opening, she was going to get the hell away from him.
“What happened?” Uriah asked as he and Izzy approached Bain, and he saw Zander was nowhere in sight.
Bain’s eyes glowed with anger and frustration. They fell a little harshly on Izzy, and she felt herself shrink away from the angered angel? No, wait, angels don’t have fangs.
“The tricky bastard used some of his stolen luck and bolted,” Bain spat.
Uriah raised a brow and gave Bain a fanged grin. “You let him get away?”
Bain growled. He’d always hated Zander, and with all the luck he’d been stealing lately, he had just bested him in a fight. Bain would be ready next time.
Isabelle took that opportunity to yank her arm free of Uriah’s grip, and start off through the parking lot towards the club. She didn’t get far as the snap of the heel of her boot put her on very uneven ground, and she headed face first towards the pavement.
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Son of a… this won’t be good, Izzy thought
In fact, it was going to be costly in more than one way. She wasn’t going to get away from the two creatures, and she was likely going to end up with a pretty good rip in her favorite jeans, and probably in her palms as well. She held her arms out in front of her, thankful she was wearing a fitted, long-sleeved top; it would save some of her skin. Izzy squeezed her eyes closed even tighter and braced for the impact.
She hit something hard, but it wasn’t pavement. It surrounded her, and then a rush of air wrapped around her. Izzy opened her eyes to see the pavement moving further away from her, and the cars and lights of the street becoming smaller. Her innate reaction was to try and get away, but her survival instincts told her to stay still and if need be… hold on tight.
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