Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  As temping as it was, Kendra pushed away any thoughts of blood and feeding. She’d only come to enjoy the music and maybe steal a glimpse of her past, not to find dinner. She weaved her way through the sea of tightly packed bodies, all writhing to the beat of the song, swaying and rocking as if under the music’s spell.

  Only one goal in mind, Kendra had to get closer to the stage, near enough to feel Marcus’s heartbeat. She’d had loved him and his music since the band had been a local coffee shop act.

  That seemed like forever ago. A simpler time, before she’d been stolen from the mortal world.

  Spotlights shone brightly in the blue-gray haze of twilight, casting the stage in an ethereal glow. Kendra stared enchanted as Marcus threw his head back, hitting a long, high-pitched note that sent the audience into a frenzy.

  His voice was otherworldly. He spanned the range of sexy, bassy notes to high-pitched trilling and back again. It was no wonder Marcus and his band had found success. How could they not with talent like that?

  Needing to be closer, Kendra continued on, pushing her way through the crowd, edging toward the stage. Screams, cheers, and applause thundered all around as Marcus’s song ended.

  The lights darkened and smoke began to leak from the edge of the stage. Slowly it moved, twisting and curling as it crept toward the ground like some ghostly apparition.

  She paused, coming to a halt only a few rows from the stage. A deafening silence enveloped the crowd. Anticipation ran thick in the air. Kendra felt it too. The nervous energy. Her own slow beating heart sped as the quiet seconds ticked by.

  Was that it, was it over? Was that the last glimpse of Marcus? She hadn’t even reached the stage.

  In perfect synch with a growling power chord, the lights flashed back on, bathing Marcus in an ethereal glow.

  Pure adoration froze Kendra in her tracks. She’d been a fan since the beginning, before being turned, but her master wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She hadn’t been able to lay eyes on Marcus in ten years. Age had been good to him—gone was the emaciated, starving artist. He now stood proudly on stage, a miraculous transformed god of a man.

  She longed for a second chance to know him, to be close to him, to hear the clarity in his voice, and feel the emotion of his lyrics. His music was like magic. His lyrics touched her so deeply, it was as if he had looked into her soul, discovered her secret desires, and then written his songs just for her.

  The ebb and flow of the crowd forced Kendra from her stupor. She continued her mission, pushing a path through the crowd, hoping to be near him for just one moment. Anticipation had her heart fluttering as she neared the barricade that separated the fans from the stage.

  The next song started with a tribal beat. The thumping of bass and the bang of the drums reverberated in her chest like a speeding heartbeat. Like a puppet pulled by invisible strings, Kendra was powerless against the will of the music. The rhythm of the song commanded her body and she submitted, dancing along with the tribal beat.

  Marcus’s piercing voice rang out loud and clear through the large speakers. He sang of love lost, but through all the doubt and pain, a spark of unending hope remained.

  Pangs of grief tugged at Kendra’s lonely heart. She wished she could reach out and touch him. She was so close she could smell his scent wafting toward her, earthy and musky with a hint of spice. In that moment, standing bare-chested before her, he seemed like a Greek god. Rippling muscles covered his well-formed body. Each small contour glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, emphasizing his masculine physique.

  Immortal or not, at that moment, Kendra was no different than any other fan in the crowd. Flames of desire burned bright within her. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Needed to feel his hard body pressed against her own.

  As if she had willed it to happen, Marcus hopped off the stage, microphone in hand, and strode toward the barricade. Taken by the moment, she squealed in excitement with the rest of the fans.

  Marcus reached into the mass, shaking hands and kissing cheeks as he continued to woo the throng with his voice.

  Though she’s followed his every movement like a predator, Kendra gasped in amazement when he suddenly reached out in front of her. Marcus took her hand and gave a small squeeze, just a small simple gesture, before moving on to the next screaming fangirl, but it was more than she’d hoped for. Her heart skipped a beat. His touch was like fire to her icy skin. That small connection sent a heated rush of excitement through her body. Kendra looked down at her hand and lovingly brought it to her chest. He may not have known it, but Marcus had given her the world in that small touch, and Kendra would cherish it forever.

  Marcus jumped back on the stage and wiped the sweat from his face with a dark shirt. He tossed it into the audience, and like a frenzied mob, people swarmed in masses piling on top of each other, shredding the shirt to claim a scrap of cloth. Kendra, however, didn’t move. She stood motionless, transfixed, unable to peel her eyes from his fit, muscular form as he took his final bow and waved goodnight to the crowd.

  Her hand tingled with the after-warmth of his touch. She could even pick up the remnants of his masculine scent sticking to her immortal skin. Oh God, he smelled good. Need and desire mingled with fantasies playing like a movie in her mind.

  For a moment, she allowed herself to dream of his hands caressing her skin. She imagined his hard body pressed against hers and the sweet taste of his lips. She wondered what it would be like to take his neck and drink in his essence as she made love to him. She imagined sharing her blood; bonding him, turning him, making him hers forever. Secretly, Kendra prayed for the opportunity.

  She knew it was a bad idea. Angry at herself for even thinking it, she tried to dismiss the thought from her mind. Kendra had never wanted to be this thing, this monster. How could she entertain the thought of cursing another living creature with this punishment? Even if it was for her own secret pleasure.

  She hated life as a vampire; the never-ending night, the blood lust, and the cruel master who had taken away everything she had known.

  She shook her head. No. No one deserves this curse. Goodbye again, Marcus.

  Chapter Two

  FATE’S GAME

  A cold wind blew through the empty streets. Kendra walked alone; her only companions were the echo of her footfall and the random buzz of passing cars. The concert had ended hours before, but she had nowhere to be. She called no particular place home. Kendra had spent the past few weeks on the move, trying to prevent Hector from catching up to her. She knew it was futile, but she had to try.

  I can always find you, darlin’, Hector’s voice echoed in her mind.

  No one escaped the blood bond between master and fledgling. It would only be a matter of time before Hector caught up to her and punished her for escaping. The thought of punishment had Kendra quaking with fear. There was no limit to the vile things he’d force her to do under compulsion.

  She cursed herself for the mistakes of her youth. For one moment of ecstasy, she had allowed Hector to damn her, steal her humanity, and control her for eternity.

  The only moment of happiness she’d felt in the last ten years was that brief touch of Marcus’s hand at the concert.

  She brought her hand to her face, sucking in a slow breath, still able to pick up the faintest hint of his scent on her skin.

  Was it so long ago? She remembered their last meeting, seeing Café Enigma brightly lit in afternoon sun. The oleanders, blooming red and white, stretched high to the sky, creating a natural buffer against the businesses surrounding the small garden café in downtown Las Vegas.

  Marcus was setting up with his band mates. Long golden hair draped around his lean frame like a cape as he hoisted a drum stand over his head to place it on the stage.

  Oh how she admired him, stealing glances between sips of ice tea, and for a fleeting moment caught him looking back in her direction.

  They’d played this little game for over a month, flirting with their eyes, neithe
r of them gaining the courage to make the first move.

  “If only I had spoken to him then,” she mused, as her mind returned to the present.

  Going to the concert had been a mistake. It had opened the floodgates and reminded her of the life she had lost.

  A tear streamed down her face, dropping soundlessly to the pavement.

  She wished she could go back and change the outcome of that day. If only she had drummed up the courage to talk to him, instead of allowing Hector to ensnare her.

  Sadness crushed her spirit. Each step she took felt like it was weighed down with lead. Eyes cast down onto the shadowy pavement, she stepped into the street.

  A blinding flash of light struck her before the force of heavy steel careened into her body, sending her crashing to the ground.

  Her head hit the pavement with a crack. Stars danced in her vision before everything faded to black.

  Pain was the only think keeping her from passing out. Every inch of her body felt raw and beaten. The odd echo of a car door slamming reverberated in her aching head. She groaned and cupped her hands to her ears as it if might stop or dampen the pain.

  Her hands were matched by another pair cradling her head. Warm hands. A mumbling, scared voice spoke to her, but she couldn’t make out any words. They were muffled and distorted, as if the speaker were talking to her underwater.

  A coppery tang wafted in the air, mixed with a hint of alcohol. Her darker instincts took over as she realized what she was smelling. Fresh blood would begin the regenerating process, allowing her body to heal. All it took was the hint of that familiar, tantalizing scent, and the beast within her roared to life, demanding it.

  Through cracked eyes, Kendra tried but could barely make out the hazy blur of the person above her. It was a man, and he was frantic—that was all she needed to know. Human, bleeding, and with a strong heartbeat. He would satisfy.

  She dove at his neck, without another thought, opening his vein, flooding her mouth with healing blood.

  The effect was instantaneous. As the sweet, thick fluid ran down her throat, the headache subsided. Throbbing in her arms and legs vanished as she fed and her strength returned. Other senses returned as well and suddenly, the scent of the human she was feeding on became almost too overpowering; earthy and musky with a hint of spice. She knew that smell, but from where?

  Her victim moaned.

  Suddenly, a dreadful realization struck her. That voice—it’s familiar.

  She pierced her tongue with her fang and swept it along the bite mark, to stem the flow of blood and help seal the wounds. Hoping, praying she was wrong Kendra pulled back to get a good look at the man she had nearly bled dry.

  Shit!

  Her heart slammed in her chest. She knew his face. She knew the sharp outline of his jaw. She knew the mop of golden hair, and those beautiful hazel eyes that were now rolling backwards into his head.

  “Oh my God! Marcus. How did—Shit!”

  His head drooped and then hung limply as he lost consciousness.

  “No. Wake up.” Kendra shook him frantically. “What have I done? Of all the people I could have run into. Fucking karma!”

  The car, a large, silver SUV, sat purring in front of her, the grill badly dented where it had impacted with her but otherwise apparently still in good running order.

  She needed to get him to safety and medical attention, quick! She jumped up, pulling Marcus into her arms, and carried him to the car.

  He moaned weakly. Kendra was thankful for that small sign of consciousness. She regretted her moment of weakness. She should have known better. She should have paid more attention to where she was going. Guilt squeezed her chest tight, threatening to crush her heart. She almost killed him, the man she had secretly adored for the last decade. Thankfully, she had stopped herself before it was too late. Well, hopefully it wasn’t too late. She needed to get him to safety and make sure he recovered! It was the least she could do as penance.

  Jumping into the driver’s seat, she slammed the door behind her.

  “Marcus,” she said loudly, shaking him in the passenger seat. “Where are you staying? We have to get you somewhere to rest.”

  Marcus moaned and nodded his head but spoke no identifiable words. A thin line of blood ran from his brow, and a matching splotch of blood stained the steering wheel.

  He must have hit his head when he ran into me. No, this isn’t good at all.

  “C’mon, Marcus. Stay with me! I need you to answer me. Where are you staying?”

  Marcus’s head slumped again and he slid down the tan leather bucket seat.

  “Fuck!” Kendra slammed her fist into the steering wheel, and the car responded with a loud honk from the horn.

  After a moment of deep breathing to calm her frazzled nerves, she turned to Marcus’s limp body and put both hands on the sides of his head. “Marcus, wake up.”

  His eyes cracked open just enough for her to see the darkness of his irises.

  Kendra focused hard, sending out a mental command, willing his eyes to open completely.

  His eye lids fluttered, eyelashes fanning as he blinked, and then finally they opened.

  Kendra concentrated hard, delving deeply in through the windows of his mind. His head was foggy. The thick blanket of unconsciousness threatened to envelop him and block out her mental control. She focused hard, hunting for a small shred of consciousness to anchor him. Blood loss had taken its toll. He was in shock. Possibly concussed too. Traveling through his mind was like trudging through a swamp, but she pressed on.

  “Marcus, hear me,” she commanded. “Guide me. Tell me where to take you. You’re sick and need rest.”

  Finally locking onto the smallest sliver of consciousness, his mind opened and gave her exactly what she needed. She caught the image of the hotel where he was staying, saw the room number, and knew which pocket his key was in.

  Breaking the mental connection, she allowed him to slump back into the seat as she threw the car into gear.

  Chapter Three

  DOING THE RIGHT THING

  Struggling to walk through the hotel unnoticed, Kendra made her way toward the elevators. A barely conscious Marcus limped sluggishly, feet barely picking up off the ground as they moved. His head slumped awkwardly to his chest. Like a wet rag his arm draped around her shoulder. Kendra clutched him to her body, supporting his weight with her arms around his waist.

  She leaned him against the elevator wall and pressed the button to the top floor.

  I bet he always gets the penthouse, she mused.

  Thankfully, the elevator was empty and the ride to the top undisturbed. Blood still ran down his face in a small trickle from the spot where he had collided with the steering wheel. She pierced her tongue with her fang and lapped at the gash, savoring the last sweet taste of his essence, sealing the wound before the elevator reached its destination.

  A soft ding signaled they had arrived. Marcus would recover once he’d had a little rest and some food. Her work was almost done and that though had her feeling slightly disappointed. She wanted badly to remain with him. She’d always wished she could have had the opportunity, and now, especially now, she knew there was no hope. Trying desperately to force aside her emotions, knowing they would do her no good, Kendra wrapped Marcus in her arms and carried him to his room.

  Though her strength had returned, thanks to Marcus’s blood, maneuvering him around was no easy feat. He was like a two-hundred pound rag doll in his semi-conscious state. She groaned, shifting his dead weight against her shoulder to keep him upright as she extracted the hotel key from the wallet in his back pocket. He let out an indecipherable moan as she jammed the key card it into the reader mounted to the wall.

  “This is it now, you should be safe,” she whispered.

  A green light flickered on the door, accompanied by the soft click of the lock. Marcus would recover, and no one would know what had happened to him. His lethargy could be easily explained by too much partying—as was
the norm for rock stars.

  Three pairs of eyes zeroed in on Kendra’s face the moment she opened the door. She gasped and almost dropped Marcus on the ground. It took a moment to realize it was the rest of the band lounging on couches in the common area of the brightly-lit, opulent suite. In her frazzled state she had forgotten about the fact they were on tour. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have expected to see them.

  Shit!

  Kendra stood shocked, mouth gaping open, in the doorway with a semi-conscious Marcus hanging limply in her arms. This was the last thing she needed to have happen. She wondered if the universe was conspiring against her, punishing her for trying to escape her master.

  “Who the hell are you? And what happened to him?” Troy, a large, bruiser of a man—the band’s drummer—asked as he shot up from the couch. He pushed his long dreadlocks out of his face and eyed Marcus with a mixture of concern and anger.

  “He’ll be fine… just a little too much partying,” Kendra stammered. Her mind raced, attempting to formulate a plan of escape. She glanced down at Marcus and spotted the evidence of her feeding on the collar of his pale blue shirt.

  Crap, what if they notice?

  Chad, a slightly overweight, bald man, shot up from his spot in the center of the living room space, on top of a large ottoman. His eyes traveled from Kendra down to the semi-conscious Marcus. “He looks sick.” He set down his black and white bass guitar, walked over to the wet bar along the wall, and began rummaging through the small mini-fridge. “Mikey, call down for some room service. Water, sodas, you know the drill. Get this guy some fluids.”

  “I’m on it.” Mike, a skinny blond man—the band’s guitarist— reached out for the phone sitting on a small table at the edge of the couch. “He looks pretty bad off. What did you give him?” Mike asked, fingers already dialing numbers on the phone.