Stormchild: Pacific Passion, Book 1
Page 6
When the past bites, bite back.
Blood and Destiny
© 2010 Kaye Chambers
Ladies of St. George, Book 1
For Destiny St. George, shapeshifting lioness and private investigator, her best friend’s looming wedding is little more than a reminder of her failed relationship with vampire king Marcus Smythe. Tired of being only one of many mistresses—and dinner entrees—she’s stayed away from the vampire scene altogether. Until a missing-person case forces her to seek his help.
Knowing that pressing Destiny is not the way to convince her to give their relationship another try, Marcus has been waiting her out—and his patience is rewarded when she steps into his nightclub. Now is his chance to lure her back into his arms. This time, he plans to keep her there.
Destiny’s not sure which is worse: working with Marcus, or trying to remember all the reasons she called it off with him. And when it becomes clear the case is an elaborate trap to avenge a millennia-old grudge, she finds herself caught between love and instinct—while the clock ticks down on an innocent victim’s life…
Warning: Vampires determined to take more than a bite out of the heroine. A lioness sure that she’s going to have the last word.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Blood and Destiny:
“Maybe you should go.”
His hands froze over the wine bottle. Without turning, he resumed twisting the corkscrew into the wine cork.
“No car,” he reminded me.
Oh, right. He had sent the driver to find out news of the new vampire in town. Criminy. I latched on to the next solution.
“When did you tell Peter to bring my car home?”
“He’ll bring it after work tonight.”
Which meant not until the wee hours of the morning at best. I watched Marcus pour the rich red wine into the glasses.
“Cab?” I suggested out of desperation.
The look he gave me as he turned to me with the glasses in hand was all the answer I needed. The idea of Marcus in a cab was a little bit ridiculous.
“I’ll grant that it may have been overly optimistic of me to assume I would be invited to stay the night. Nonetheless, you’re stuck with me for the moment. Come, have a glass of wine. Let’s not let my ego ruin this reunion. We can talk a bit and if you’re still anxious for me to leave, I’ll call the driver back.”
Why did the man have to be so reasonable? Simple. Time was on his side and he knew it. I would have loved to say his confidence was misplaced, but we both knew how much I wanted what he was offering. The question was if my strength of will was stronger than my desire?
I needed action. Walking past him, taking a glass from his hand as I went, I flipped on the outside light and kept moving to the living room. The apartment wasn’t very big, but it boasted a small dining room, a living room, a bedroom and a centrally located bath. Considering I spent most of my time downstairs, it was all I needed.
He followed like a shadow, not needing any more light than I did to travel the familiar path across the worn carpet. I skirted the doorway to the bedroom, grateful that I had closed it before heading out earlier, and led him to the couch and love seat. Pointedly not looking at the oil painting centered above the couch that Marcus had given me for my birthday last year, I leaned over to flip the lamp on low before settling into the corner next to it with my feet curled under me. It was a very catlike pose, but it was too late to change as Marcus settled close to me.
If he felt awkward, it didn’t show. He sat with a casual grace and surveyed the room with an imperial air. Considering nothing had changed since the last time he visited, the rush of anxiety I felt was totally absurd. Of course, my jumble of emotions may have been the kiss and the remaining hum of unfulfilled desire. My libido hadn’t quite realized I was going to be frustrated by morning and responded to the promise of his presence.
Hell, whom was I kidding? I was already frustrated and the solution was close enough to touch. I couldn’t have been more miserable if I were staring at a display of chocolate-covered strawberries behind the glass of a closed shop. Since breaking the glass wasn’t an option, I had to tough it out with the reminder that I had gone to him, after all.
I drank from the glass but couldn’t appreciate the rich taste of the wine. The quality of it indicated Marcus had my number on more than one level. The silence stretched from awkward into downright rude. When he finally spoke, I jumped, sloshing wine across my hand and onto my slacks. Even as his gaze dropped to the red staining the tan fabric and heated with all sorts of lascivious promises, his words registered.
“You’ve stayed away a long time, Destiny. I’ve missed you. My heart has been lonely.”
The tension shifted back to the sexual undertones and I had to beat back my libido. Grabbing on to the only lifeline I could find, I tried to pick a fight.
“I noticed you said your heart was lonely and not your bed.”
Months ago, it would have had the desired effect. Either Marcus had gotten wise to me or he had mellowed. Vampires as old as he was didn’t change readily, so I was betting on the former. Instead of rising to the bait, he met my challenging look with a contemplative gaze.
“Why is my lifestyle so repugnant when yours wouldn’t be very different if you followed your instincts?”
Our time apart had made him smarter too. I was screwed and not in a good way. I sensed retreat might be in order, but argued anyway. “For starters, female lions are very selective in their breeding habits and don’t have a different male every night of the week.”
“So your objection isn’t to the other women, just the variety?”
On one hand, my ego was stroked that he’d wasted so much time thinking about why I’d left him. On the other, it meant I was going to have to be totally honest with both of us. Since moral outrage hadn’t worked, maybe honesty would.
“I don’t know, Marcus. I wasn’t raised among lions, so my moral code doesn’t exactly jive with my genetic programming. Lionesses in the wild will commit to a male coalition if they’re strong enough to keep the pride safe and they’ll share those males among them. Do shapeshifting lions abide by that same code? You tell me since you’ve known more of them than I have.”
It came out with a wealth of bitter undertones. I cringed, but held my ground. I thought I had come to terms with the fact my mother had left me on the doorstep of St. George’s Children’s Home as a newborn, but apparently my abandonment issues were creeping up to haunt me at the most inopportune time. It also gave away more than I wanted Marcus to know. Intuitive as always, he picked up on the hidden clue.
“So if it’s not the sharing that offends you, what is it, dear Destiny?”
I took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. The first moment I’d laid eyes on him, his presence had hit me like a blow to my middle. He still had the ability to do that to me. Now it was tempered by familiarity and genuine affection for the man underneath which made it so much more dangerous. With that in mind, I strove for gentle honesty for both our sakes.
“It’s the being left behind, Marcus. You make time for me on my allotted days and then you disappear until my turn on the rotation rolls ’round again. What bothers me is I’m a type of casual fling for you. It’s not enough for me. Not when you’re more than that for me.”
His temper prickled along my senses, but he quickly bottled it. Without meaning to, I’d offended him.
“I gave you more time than any of my other women. Even you can’t feed me more than twice a week without harm.”
“And did you think that you don’t have to use me as dinner to be with me? How about having your dinner then meeting me for a movie or for a quiet night in? That never occurred to you, did it?”
His head snapped back as if I’d struck him and I knew I was right on the mark. With a deep breath, I set my wineglass on the side table and turned to face him by shifting my back to the arm of the couch.
“Destiny,” he began. I watched him decide on
the words to use. Apparently, he was being as careful as I was. “You’re right. It never occurred to me to consider spending time together unencumbered by need.”
I was expecting more outrage and a true argument so his capitulation gave my mounting frustration no outlet. His gaze lingered on mine and he nodded as if making a decision of his own that I wasn’t privy to. He rose with all the grace of his station and held out his hand to me.
“When was the last time you truly rested?” he asked. “When have you truly felt safe in the world enough to sleep?”
So he was going to use his knowledge of my secrets against me.
“The absolute last place I want to be right now is in bed with you.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. I ignored my subconscious taunting.
The most damaged heart can fly with the right pair of wings.
Everlong
© 2010 Hailey Edwards
Madelyn’s life is far from fairytale perfect. She is second in line for the throne of a corrupt, brutal monarchy. Or at least she was until her dark guardian sacrificed his life to hide her safely in a realm of infinite possibilities.
For years she’s lived among a colony of escaped slaves as her guardian’s widow. Even in this simple life, though, nothing is as it seems. Her hero kept a secret—a younger brother named Clayton Delaney. Warrior, winged demon…and the man who now wants to lay claim to her heart.
No longer cast in his brother’s shadow, Clayton meets all obstacles head on, including one named Maddie. His infatuation with her reaches the breaking point when she undergoes a royal rite of passage, going into heat and pushing them both over the edge.
Just as Maddie learns that some risks are worth taking, she discovers that her guardian may be alive. And she’s forced to make a choice between the man she’d thought she loved, and the demon willing to lend her his wings.
Warning: This book contains virginal angst, a hero who’s too nice for his own good, wings, claws, and convenient use of glamour. It contains heartbreaking loss, conversation with a woodland creature, and sweet, sweet demon loving.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Everlong:
Pushing up the trail harder than I should have, I almost missed the turn guiding me up the final incline to where the landscape dropped away before me. Trees and rocks jutted up off to my left and right, but ahead lay nothing. My legs ached from the effort of climbing to Emasen’s cliff edge, but the view made the burn worthwhile.
Exhausted, I shrugged out of my backpack, letting it slide down my arms to land with a soft thud on the compacted earth. Sweat stung my eyes. Perspiration beaded on my skin, struggling to squeeze through the coating of waterproof sunscreen Emma had made me apply before allowing me to leave the house.
I walked to the edge of the precipice and stood with the toes of my sneakers hanging over the sheer rock face of the cliff. My shoulders tensed, air whooshed into my lungs as I rolled to the balls of my feet, preparing for the impossibility of flight.
“Step back from the ledge,” Clayton’s soft voice coaxed from behind me.
“Clayton,” I groaned. “I wasn’t really going to jump.” I pointed towards my back. “No wings, remember?” As if either of us could forget.
I twisted abruptly, discounting the lingering tenderness in my knee, and lost my footing. Arms flailing, I tried to regain my balance and failed, toppling backwards from the ledge.
“Clayton!” I shouted his name as my body whistled through the air, plummeting towards the earth. Frantic heartbeats thundered in my ears, drowning out the sound of my screams.
As I fell, my earliest memories flickered through my mind. I pushed aside the barrage of images and settled on my favorite. That of a black-skinned boy with glittering onyx eyes. And wings. Tiny, ruby-red wings that had fluttered with his excitement and made my child’s heart long for the half of my heritage I lacked.
“Madelyn!” Clayton bellowed, leaping from the edge and following me into the sky.
I had only a fraction of a second to wonder if he would make it before his strong arms plucked me from my downward spiral.
His enormous scarlet wings opened wide, stretching out so far in either direction I couldn’t see the blackened tips and tiny, hook-like hands that topped them.
Clayton’s blunt chin dug into the top of my head. The muscular arms holding me close tightened until my breath wheezed from my lungs.
“Were you trying to get yourself killed?” he snapped. “What if I hadn’t been there? What if you’d been alone?” His skin trembled beneath my fingers.
“It was an accident.” I struggled in his hold, trying to free my arms from where he pinned them to my sides. “If you hadn’t startled me, I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.”
“You can’t be so careless.” He held me dangling in the air before him, shaking me senseless, before tucking me back against his chest. His voice cracked. “What would I have done without you?” His thumb worked across a bony protrusion behind my shoulder blade, marking my absence of wings.
“It’s okay, really.” I rested my cheek against his chest since my hands weren’t free. “A fall from that height would have hurt.” I carefully avoided making a comment on my personal experiences. “But I would have healed eventually.”
“I don’t want to hear this.” His head tossed from side to side. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”
If I’d thought he couldn’t hold me tighter, I’d been wrong. I would wear bruises for a while, but for now, I allowed him to have what he needed, letting him squeeze until joints popped and pain blossomed. It was such a small hurt when compared to the anguish carried in his voice.
Using my chin to part the fabric of his shirt, I rested my face flush against his skin. His body shuddered beneath my cheek. His desperate groan filled my ear with his heated breath as he glided the last few feet and touched down.
Still gripping my upper arms, Clayton lowered me to the ground, sliding me down his body so slowly time felt suspended. With earth beneath my feet, I leaned into him, trying to calm his ragged nerves. Something hard pressed against my stomach, making me shift to get comfortable and him growl low in his throat. Oh. Oh.
“Madelyn…” His voice grew husky.
I pulled back, meeting his gaze. “You really are worked up over this.” I twisted in a circle before him. “I’m fine. See?”
“Madelyn…”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” I touched his arm, the muscle beneath my hand pulled taut as a bowstring.
“Run,” he grated out over his lips.
I spun around, searching for another demon or a wild animal, unable to imagine anything Clayton couldn’t protect me against. We were alone in the ravine. No one or thing had followed us here. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Our eyes locked. I gasped and backed away slowly. Clayton’s pupils flashed silver, huge, luminous and spellbinding. His wings twitched with his effort to still them, but vibrant reds saturated his skin as his arousal heightened and called forth my body’s own response.
“Go.” He clutched his head, breaths ragged. “Run!”
I turned, but from the corner of my eye I saw him fall to the ground. Instead of leaving, I took a half step forward.
“Get away from me!” He slashed the air inches from my face with razor-tipped claws. “I can’t control myself. It’s too much. Your scent…” His wings stretched and then cloaked his body as he hid himself from me. “Find Figment, she knows the way.”
This time he didn’t have to ask twice. I spun on my heel and ran.
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