Blood Red Kiss

by Kresley Cole

  She unleashed a shriek, the kind Valkyries were known for. The kind that preceded death. The demon fought to snap her neck, but her muscles lay in perfect alignment to prevent it.

  Wroth struggled to get to her even as he burned. Battling to save her as he died.

  He was hers. That they would dare . . .

  She freed and raised her arms. Lightning struck her, a bolt from the gods.

  Thunder hammered the two holding her. Her hand shot down to snatch one’s sword just as he was cast into the sunlight.

  With lightning-fueled strength, she slashed and clawed at the gang. She barely flinched when one broke her arm and the butt of a sword cracked her cheekbone. Don’t look through that eye, switch hands. She cut a swath to Ivo, who alone remained.

  “And here I thought you were merely the pretty one.” With a mock bow, the coward traced.

  Arm shattered, face beaten to a pulp, she flew to Wroth. With one arm, she started dragging him into the cool shade, biting her wrist open for him to drink.

  He was unconscious, twisting in pain. His skin looked like lava burned within him.

  “Seems like we missed the party,” Regin said as she and Cara strolled over. “Why does Myst get to kill all the vampires? No, really. This was just supposed to be ghouls.”

  “What are you doing?” Cara demanded. “We heard your scream and thought it was something important.” She waved a dismissive hand at Wroth’s writhing form. “The being dies. Leave him.” She clearly couldn’t fathom why Myst was frantically dragging his big body while shoving her gashed wrist to his lips.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Regin said. “He’s a leech. Let him fricassee.”

  Myst snapped her teeth at her sisters. Then she screamed two words she’d never uttered in her entire life: “Help me!”

  19

  Nikolai woke to wetness on his chest. He was in bed? With Myst’s silky red hair tumbling over his arm?

  When he opened his eyes, he realized she was crying over him. Impossible. “Myst?” he rasped.

  Her head shot up, and she gave him a watery smile that quickly faded. She slapped him, a hard, cracking blow across his cheek. Then she leapt atop him, squeezing him as if she couldn’t get close enough.

  “Don’t you ever do anything so stupid again!” Another slap struck his chest.

  His healed chest? He flexed his muscles throughout his body. He was bandaged in places, but he had all his limbs. This was good. Now if he could just get his wife to cease slapping him. “If you do not stop, milaya, we will have words.”

  She turned to kissing him, with tears dropping to his face, each one like a gift. “You’ve been out for three nights. And you wouldn’t wake the hell up.”

  “Where are we?”

  “In Val Hall.”

  He stiffened.

  “No, you’re safe.” She leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I would just let my sisters fall on you like a carcass?”

  He winced at the image. “Can’t wait to meet them all. How did you get away?”

  “Ivo traced, but Cara and Regin are on his trail.”

  “I’m just glad I was there to save you,” Nikolai said solemnly, making her grin. “Did you kill the turned demon?”

  “The lightning and I did.”

  He remembered then. She’d been hit by a bolt, her hair whipping, eyes silver, the most awing sight he’d ever witnessed. “I saw you get struck.” His voice went low. “You smiled.”

  “It feels good. Getting a direct hit is very rare—”

  Outside, some male howled with fury.

  Nikolai tensed to trace her away, but she waved away his concern. “Oh, don’t worry. Just another crazy day at the manor. A Lykae nabbed little Emmaline and took her back to Scotland—thinks she’s his werewolf queen.”

  “Werewolf queen?”

  “Uh-huh. So Lucia trapped the Lykae’s brother for leverage, but apparently he’s proving uncooperative. Anyway, if you knew Em, you’d see how ridiculous the idea is. She’s terrified of her own shadow, much less a Lykae’s unique . . . appetites.”

  Nikolai would have to ask her about that later. “She’s the halfling—the one who’s part vampire.” When Myst frowned, he rushed to assure her, “I will never tell Kristoff about her, but I suspect Ivo’s searching for her.”

  “We know. We’re sending a retrieval party for her. Once they bring her back, she’ll be safe here. The wraiths will shut out any threat.” One flew by the window, cackling to punctuate her statement.

  He raised his brows, but she merely grinned. With a bandaged hand, he cupped her face. “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “Could you . . . could you feel the same way? Before you answer, I want you to know I meant what I said. I am sorry for forcing you to stay with me and for losing my head. I will always be shamed by my actions.”

  “Wroth, I wanted to stay with you after about a day! I’d planned to play you, but realized I was falling in love with you.”

  He hadn’t heard her correctly. Yes, she’d been upset over his injuries, but . . . “You’re saying you love me too?”

  She nibbled her lip and nodded. “I’d always had a crush on you, you know. I used to adore hearing tales about you when you were human and was saddened when you died. Then to meet you in person?” She blushed a little. “I found that you more than lived up to my fantasy.”

  He was bewildered to hear this from his fierce, stunningly beautiful wife. “That gives my ego a bit of a boost, coming from you.”

  Her lips curled. “Several things have convinced me we should be together: the uncommon gift of a direct strike of lightning, and the fact that you freed me from my chain, and the fact that I made your heart beat, and the fact that you were so sodding eager to give up your life for mine—though mind you, if you try that again, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Always, Myst. I’d do it easily.” When she was about to protest, he asked, “What about your family? I will try if they will.”

  “For all the reasons I just listed, a couple of my sisters have decided they’ll attempt to overcome their repugnance toward you.”

  He scowled. “Big-minded of them.”

  “Yet they want nothing to do with Kristoff or any among your order. You’re the exception, because they feel like they knew you as a human and because of what has happened between us. But if, say, your brother showed up here, they’d . . . it would be . . . bad.”

  “I understand.”

  “If you can make a genuine effort, I believe they will all come to accept you in time.”

  He wanted to be clear on this. “Accept you as my wife and me as your husband?” He wanted everything from her. Not just a few decades. He wanted forever. And as long as she was in a giving mood . . .

  She nodded, a smile playing about her lips. “We still have a lot to muddle through, mind you. Our families and our factions, who controls the remote, and living logistics—because Blachmount needs TLC and lightning rods in a bad way. But I suppose I have to take possession of you, since I’ve already taken possession of this.” She raised her hand and displayed the wedding ring he’d bought her.

  He grinned. “You liked that, did you?”

  “I couldn’t take my eyes off it,” she said with a saucy smile.

  He pulled her to him and clasped her close, knowing she craved being wrapped securely in his arms, as much as he needed her soft and trusting within them. “I can’t quite believe this. Even after everything?” If she could give him another chance, Nikolai thought they could do anything together.

  “Yes. But . . .” She stroked the smooth backs of her claws down his arm. “You’ll have to spend eternity making it up to me.”

  He levered himself above her, cupping the back of her neck. His gaze flickered over her face, then met the eyes of his wife as she smiled up at him. Feeling love for her so strong it hurt him, his voice ragged with it, he rasped, “Milaya, it is done.”

  THE ORIGIN OF THE VALKYRIES

/>   In the blood-splattered snow, the lone warrior fell to one knee and shuddered with weakness. Still, an arm shot out to raise a sword against the oncoming legion.

  Her dented breastplate swallowed her small form.

  Though the winds howled, whipping her hair, she heard the twang of a bowstring. She screamed in fury when an arrow punctured the center of her armor, the force sending her flying back.

  The arrowhead had pierced through metal, then barely through her breastbone, just enough that her heart met the point with each beat. The beating of her own brave heart was killing her.

  But her scream had awakened two gods who’d been sleeping through a wintry decade. They stirred and looked down upon the maiden, seeing courage burning bright in her eyes. Bravery and will had marked her entire life, but the light ebbed with death, and they mourned it.

  Freya, the female god, whispered that they should preserve her courage for eternity because it was so precious.

  Wóden agreed, and together they gave up lightning to tear through the ether and strike the dying maiden.

  The flash was violent and slow to fade and made the army tremble.

  When blackness descended once more, the healed maiden woke in a strange place. She was untouched, her human mortality unchanged. But soon she would bear an immortal daughter who possessed her courage, Wóden’s wily brilliance, and Freya’s mirth and fey beauty. Though this daughter enjoyed the power of lightning for sustenance, she also inherited Wóden’s arrogance and Freya’s acquisitiveness, which merely endeared her to them more.

  The gods were content and the maiden adoring of her new baby. Yet after an age had flickered past, the gods heard another female call out for courage when she fell in battle against a dark enemy. She wasn’t a human, but a fury, one among the Lore—those clever beings who have convinced humans that they exist only in imagination.

  Scarce moments had the creature; her breaths were no longer visible in the freezing night.

  “Our halls are great, yet our family is small,” Freya said, her eyes sparkling so brightly that a mariner in the north was briefly blinded by the stars and almost lost his way.

  Grim Wóden took her hand, unable to deny her. Those surrounding the dying fury saw lightning tear through the sky once more.

  In the coming years, it would strike again and again, until female warriors—be they human, demoness, siren, changeling, or any brave creature from the Lore—knew to pray for it as they died.

  Thus the Valkyries were born.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed the revised edition of The Warlord Wants Forever, the first entry in the Immortals After Dark series!

  To celebrate the tenth anniversary of the IAD, I’ve put together some bonus material: FAQs; the evolution of the A Hunger Like No Other cover (the first cover imagined specifically for the series), from initial sketch to final product; and some fun stuff with fellow authors Gena Showalter and Larissa Ione, two incredible writers and friends.

  With your support, we can keep the Immortals After Dark going for another ten years!

  Thank you so much for your readership!

  Warmest wishes,

  Kresley

  AN IMMORTALS AFTER DARK (IAD) Q&A

  I polled readers for questions, and you guys delivered! I answered the ones that won’t get me into too much trouble, make me break blood vows, or get me arrested.

  I love Robert Petkoff! How did he get to be your audiobook narrator?

  —Paige

  I was sipping a Sazerac in a sultry jazz joint down in the Vieux Carré when I heard his rich, deep voice across the room. I got shivers (the good kind), and I knew. He was the one who would deliver my series to a new medium. Our gazes met in the mirror behind the bar, and I mouthed: Let’s make an audiobook baby together. He comprehended me perfectly.

  ↑ lies ↑

  Okay, I wish I’d had something to do with hooking up the brilliant Robert Petkoff and the IAD series. That was all Simon & Schuster Audio (I’ll take this opportunity to say thank you yet again).

  How many IAD books will there be?

  —Corinna

  After 2016, there will be at least three more full-length novels. I have a dozen plotted out, so I’m ready for more if you are. (LET’S DO THIS, MOTHERFLECKERS!)

  Can I read the books out of order? Or will I miss a bunch of stuff?

  —Shelley

  I’ve put a lot of work into making all the books stand-alone. Folks tell me they get more enjoyment reading them sequentially, but you could skip an installment here or there.

  For instance, if werewolves aren’t your thing or if demons don’t do it for you, get help I get it. Bottom line: if you miss a book, I’ll have you caught up with the next.

  For those who’d like to read them in order, the series installments are:

  1. The Warlord Wants Forever

  2. A Hunger Like No Other

  3. No Rest for the Wicked

  4. Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night

  5. Dark Needs at Night’s Edge

  6. Dark Desires After Dusk

  7. Kiss of a Demon King

  8. “Untouchable” in Deep Kiss of Winter

  9. Pleasure of a Dark Prince

  10. Demon from the Dark

  11. Dreams of a Dark Warrior

  12. Lothaire

  13. Shadow’s Claim

  14. MacRieve

  15. Dark Skye

  16. Sweet Ruin

  17. Wicked Abyss

  If you didn’t write romance, what would you do?

  —Trilby

  I’d be an investigator of “world’s coldest beer” claims, committed to the pursuit of finding the world’s truly coldest brew. I would be the most dedicated worker ever.

  Will there ever be more Dacian installments? What do I have to do to get you to turn one in?

  —Your editor

  As a matter of fact, good editor, we’ll have a Dacian novella—Shadow’s Seduction—in the spring of 2017 and a full-length book later that fall. Lothaire the Enemy of Old will make cameos in both!

  How much research do you put into the IAD series? Are the books difficult for you to write or do they fly out of your head and onto the page?

  —Meghan

  I do a metric ass-ton of research for this series (measured and verified). I use any medium available to me, and I also travel to many of the settings in the books.

  Unfortunately, nothing flies out of my head, except for little poofs of my sanity. True story.

  Writing the IAD is freaking hard. The seventeen installments build on and refer to each other, so getting even the tiniest detail correct is critical.

  Plus I’m so emotionally invested in this series—more than a decade of my life has been dedicated to writing them—that I want each book to be perfect.

  What was the hardest IAD book to write? What was the easiest?

  —Bernetta

  Dark Skye was both the hardest and the easiest.

  The easy part: I was excited about the settings, the characters wrote themselves (I love it when they play ball with me!), the conflict was strong and had been set up years before, and I got to show Nïx in her element.

  But, I felt like the Pandemonia scenes could be better—more mystical, visceral, sensual. I’d turned in the book—had already been paid, no less—but I asked my editor for another go. (I like pain. Vacations are for suckers.) She played ball too, re-editing those pages.

  The hard part: I gutted that section of the book, rewriting it so many times that I have a hundred extra pages that will never see the light of day. My editor and I joke that she made me rewrite those time-loop scenes over and over until I began to feel I was in a time loop.

  Still, I can’t regret it, because Dark Skye is in my top three favorites of the IAD.

  How did you develop your interpretation of the Valkyries?

  —Petra

  I had to improvise most of their characteristics. There’s very little research available on them
compared to other mythical/legendary beings—a fact that was both problematic and freeing.

  I read everything I could, even researched in Scandinavia, but in the end I needed to invent many of their traits—their acquisitiveness, their fascination with shiny objects, their love of fighting and all things modern (video games!), and their delicate, elven appearance. Also imaginary: the Valkyrie origin myth and their consumption of lightning.

  This series has been going on for years and years. How do you keep the stories fresh?

  —Katy

  Taking IAD “breathers” and working on other series—like my Game Makers (erotica with Russian alpha-heroes) and the Arcana Chronicles (Tarot card characters come to life)—helps. And I think having numerous types of immortals adds unique layers. Each separate faction in the Lore has its own world of issues and conflicts.

  For instance, the concerns, hopes, and goals of a Forbearer are very distinct from those of a Lykae, so their stories will be varied. Then when you have the hero and heroine from two different worlds, there’s such a shakeup that I think it would be hard to write the same kind of scenario.

  How did you come up with the idea for The Living Book of Lore? Why do the entries change with each installment of the series?

  —Oni

  A buyer for a retail book chain thought some explanations in the beginning of the books could help readers dive right into the world of the Lore. I thought this was a fantastic idea, so I started noodling how I wanted to provide that information.

  In college, I’d studied grimoires and old texts written to classify evil spirits, such as demons. Often these books had encyclopedic definitions of the various entities, detailing their appearance, powers, weaknesses, and invocations. I pictured these ancient and eerie grimoires when coming up with the Book of Lore.

  In each Immortals After Dark installment, I’ll include only the entries relevant to that particular story. The entries themselves change because the Book of Lore is living. I imagine it as a crowd-sourced compendium; Loreans can edit and add as new information becomes known (e.g., a previously undiscovered realm, recent heroic feats, overthrown rulers, etc.). Whenever an edit is made, each Book of Lore in existence updates magically/mystically.