Heart of a Vampire, Book Bundle (Books 1-3)

by Amber Kallyn

  Dalia’s eyes widened and she raised her brows, trying to tell him something. Then her eyes slipped closed. Magic spread through the tunnel, filling him with the same peace he’d felt from her before.

  Behind her, Fionah blinked furiously, struggling against the calmness in the air.

  Jordan took his opening. Sliding the rowan wood stake from where he’d hidden it at his lower back. He drew on his own power and flashed down the tunnel.

  With little hesitation, he ripped Dalia from Fionah’s grip at the same time he slammed the stake into his sister’s heart.

  She gasped, hands fluttering at the poisoned wood in her chest. She stumbled back against the wall. The pain would be spreading, a fire licking inside her. Then she screamed.

  “Perhaps some of our family deserved death. But not how you gave it to them. And the entire clan didn’t deserve their fate.” He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the small voice in his head telling him to protect his sister. He drew his sword from the scabbard at his side and raised it, aiming for Fionah’s neck.

  Dalia’s soft hand stopped him. “No, Jordan. Do not.”

  His emotions warred. “She must die. She will never stop. I see that now.”

  “Perhaps. But not by your hand. Please.” Her eyes shone with worry and tiredness.

  Her peace overcame him once more. It didn’t stop him from slashing his sword down, but her ‘please’ did.

  Behind them, Shane, Connor and Brandon shuffled into the tunnel, Eric between them. They led many others, some Jordan’s people, other’s not. All looked beaten and starved.

  Connor met Jordan’s gaze. “I will take care of Fionah.” His eyes turned on her and grew so cold, Dalia shivered against Jordan’s side.

  With a last glance at the pitiful creature his sister had become, he took Dalia’s hand and led the group from the tunnels.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dalia once more sat in the courthouse, facing judgment. But this time, Jordan stood behind her, and the benches on her side were filled with vampires.

  She didn’t know if they believed her or had been ordered there by Jordan, but as she caught Robby’s gaze, he sent her a shy smile.

  The three judges came out of the door behind the bench and took their places, though Connor remained standing.

  The wolves stirred, sending heated glares Dalia’s way.

  Connor banged the gavel on the bench, then stared at the wolves. “This trial is over.”

  Howls of protest rose. The wolves’ appointed judge stood. “It has come clear to us all the woman you accuse of torture could not have done what you say.”

  Connor’s gaze narrowed as he stared at the Alpha wolf. “She is Omega.”

  The entire courthouse quieted and Dalia fidgeted as all eyes turned her way.

  Jordan had explained what it meant. She still didn’t quite understand, only that something inside her brought peace to others. It was also why she had a hard time fighting others. Harming another was against her inner nature, against her very magic. Which meant not even Thomas could have forced her to harm another, especially not a young child.

  Connor glanced at the wolves again. “The Council has been apprised of this turn of events, and given me leave to remain here for a while.” He nodded to Jordan. “You may leave.”

  Jordan pulled Dalia to her feet, and against his side as his clan filed out. As he and Dalia exited the doors, Connor’s voice came, harsh and steely.

  “Perhaps the pack can explain to me why you lied about this all?”

  She shivered at his tone, glad this had been resolved and she no longer had to face the pack. Or the very scary Connor. She didn’t care if he was Jordan’s cousin, the man was fearsome.

  “What will happen now?” she whispered.

  “We’re going home,” Jordan replied.

  He helped her into a waiting car, then drove down the highway towards his castle.

  As it appeared on the horizon, covered and hidden by the giant trees, she felt something cold inside.

  It wasn’t her home.

  Her home was in Montana, with her family.

  She wasn’t sure she would ever belong here.

  * * *

  Jordan watched Dalia slowly move up the stairs, her shoulders slumped and her grip on the banister tight.

  He didn’t get it. She had been cleared of all charges of torturing the wolves. She was now free.

  After checking in on Eric and the others who’d been harmed, he stepped into his bedroom, only to stop at the sight of Connor relaxing near the fireplace.

  “What did the wolves have to say?” he asked.

  Connor shrugged. “A bunch of nothing. But I will get to the bottom of it.”

  “Does that mean you’re staying for a while?”

  “Yes.” Connor glanced up. “Fionah is on her way to the Council.”

  His heart ached heavily. “She will be put to death?”

  “Yes. I am sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because for a while now, I have wondered about her.”

  “Yet you said nothing?”

  “What was there to say? I had no proof.”

  “She said Moira is dead, killed by her during the attack on our clan.”

  “Fionah is insane, has been ever since she was a small girl, probably.”

  Jordan shook his head. “She is my sister, my twin, and I never saw it. What she said about our brother, our parents... It haunts me for I never knew.”

  “We are sometimes blind when it comes to love.” Connor rubbed his hands in front of the fire.

  “And yet, now what am I to think of the dead? That they deserved what came to them? So many innocent died by Fionah’s actions.” Slumping in one of the chairs, Jordan stared into the orange and red flames.

  Connor cleared his throat. “The Council also wishes to meet Dalia.”

  “Nay.” He said it softly, but with steel. “She is mine.”

  “She is Omega. She could help the Council with many things, perhaps even become a Judge.”

  Jordan shook his head. “They will not use her.”

  “No. I will make sure they don’t. But it will be her choice, cousin. Just as it must be her choice to join your clan and receive your protection.” He paused, then added, “I would complete that ceremony soon. Unless you wish the Council to claim her as a Rogue and take her in as their own.”

  “Never.” Jordan would not allow it.

  “Then how do you mean to convince her to stay?”

  He sighed, mesmerized by the fire. “She wants to go back to her family. I am going to take her.”

  Connor barely twitched. “You know that will put them in danger.”

  “I will protect them. There’s a sadness inside her only her family can soothe. I must, to make her happy.”

  “So you really are planning on keeping her.”

  Jordan met his gaze. “If she’ll let me. She can be slightly stubborn.”

  Connor shrugged. “Good luck to you both, then. You’ll be quite a pair with your hard-headedness.”

  He stood and left. Jordan continued to stare into the flames, trying to figure out how he was going to convince Dalia to stay. Because he knew to his very soul he needed her in his life.

  Forever.

  Which meant he would damn well do anything it took to win her love.

  * * *

  Dalia lay on her bed, playing through the memories as they flooded back. Her year with Thomas had been gruesomely horrible.

  When a soft knock came at her door and Jordan peeked in, she realized the main difference between the two men.

  Sure, they were both vampires.

  Yet, Jordan had an honorable sense of duty to protect, not use, those with less power.

  She sat up as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed.

  “I’ve decided something,” he said, rubbing his hands as heat flushed into his cheeks.

  “What would that be?”

  “I will soon ask you
to marry me.”

  “Vampires get married?” she asked, amused at his nervousness, and touched he wasn’t trying to make that an order.

  “Aye. But we never get divorced. Till death do us part can be a long time when you’re immortal.”

  “I—”

  “Do not answer yet. I haven’t asked.” He grinned a bit boyishly. “Besides, first, I think we need to invite your family to come meet me.”

  She jumped up. “I thought you said I couldn’t let my family know I lived?”

  “There are rules and consequences.” He shrugged. “But I want to make you happy.”

  “That would definitely be a good start.”

  “I can protect your family, but they will have to follow certain rules.”

  “They can be trusted.” She flinched as his eyes darkened. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Her heart expanded as all she felt for him flowed through her. He was a kind man, not a monster at all. And his heart was a lot more tender than he let anyone see.

  Except for her. He let her into his life fully.

  She didn’t know quite what the future held, but somehow, she knew this man would encompass all of it.

  * * *

  Darkstorm

  Heart of a Vampire, Book 3

  Amber Kallyn

  After a millennia apart, can two vampires rekindle their love, or will the line between right and wrong keep them apart?

  Hunted by the demon who imprisoned her for hundreds of years, Ashlyn MacDougal is fleeing with a secret which could destroy her soul. When she runs into her lost love, Connor Gregory, life twists upside down.

  Connor has spent the last thousand years as a Judge for the Magic Council, tracking and destroying demons. Especially the abominations—those part demon, part vampire. When he discovers his long ago lover is not only alive, but protecting a half-breed, his confusion knows no bounds.

  Thrown together by circumstance, they must resolve their past. With demons after them, Ashlyn and Connor come to find their love still burns. Yet, the secrets she hides, and his duty to his job, might just keep them apart for another eternity.

  Chapter One

  Connor Gregory hunted along the city’s back streets. The scent of human blood, fresh on the air, made his senses hum. Hunger roared. It had been hours since he’d drank his last pint of blood, but his responsibilities as Judge for the Magic Council spurred him on, pushing his needs back.

  A human cult was striking terror into the hearts of the mortals living in the city. A cult that seemed to know an awful lot about real demon magic, which meant there was most likely a creature from the depths of hell helping them out.

  Connor grinned humorlessly at the inky shadows. His job was to hunt the demon down, and kill it.

  All in a productive day’s work.

  He followed the blood scent through the alleys of a business district. For the southwest, the buildings towering into the sky felt out of place. They also hindered his ability to track.

  Connor despised big cities like Phoenix. He’d much rather have stayed up in the mountains, in his cousin’s sleepy little town of Moss Creek. But when duty called...

  He rounded a corner, freezing for a split second. At another time, it could have cost him his head—and his life. In a flash, he pressed his back to the wall, easily blending with the shadows in his dark jeans, t-shirt and black duster.

  Just down the alley, in front of an oversized dumpster, a group of teenagers knelt on the asphalt. All four took the Goth look to the extreme. One boy’s shaved head glinted from piercings. Black and red swirling tattoos covered the other boy’s skin. The two girls could have been twins with their pale skin, hair obviously dyed black. Encircling their eyes, they wore black make-up that matched their lipstick. And how anyone could walk in thigh-high boots with six-inch heels covered in spikes was beyond him.

  He also didn’t get anyone who would wear spike-studded collars.

  The kids shifted slightly, allowing him a glimpse at the encircled pentagram on the ground. Runes of destruction and death had been drawn inside each triangle arm. The tattooed boy leaned over the last empty opening, and continued drawing the symbols for a ritual designed to rip a soul from an innocent.

  Connor sniffed the air. Blood. Rotting flesh. And the distinct smoky, sulfurous odor of demon.

  He reached to the back of his neck and silently withdrew his katana, Akoukirito, from the sheath on his back. A Japanese sword master had crafted both hundreds of years ago. The blade, named for its use in striking down evil, was honed to an edge that rarely dulled.

  Connor was as deadly with his hands, but if one of these seemingly innocent kids was a demon, he’d need the blade.

  He held Akoukirito down along his leg as he slowly approached the group. He had to stop them from completing the ritual. It was like a nice, juicy steak for demons, full of magic and power they could corrupt.

  He sure as hell didn’t want to deal with a demon pumped up on soul magic.

  E drew closer. The kids remained oblivious to his presence. With a sigh, he resheathed his sword. They might be working with a demon, but it wasn’t here right now.

  He shot a fist at the throat of the tattooed boy drawing the runes. The kid flew back, crashing against the brick wall of the building, choking and sputtering. The chalk clattered to the ground.

  The other three jumped up, circling him as if they would actually have a chance to participate in this fight.

  Perhaps even win.

  Chuckling, Connor crouched and spun, sweeping his foot over the ground, knocking the three on their asses. He reached for the artist, then tossed him near the others.

  “Who are you working for?” he demanded, allowing anger to deepen his voice into a menacing growl.

  Tattoo still clutched his throat, but glared up at Connor with a hatred only the youth could attain.

  “Fuck off,” he rasped.

  The other three looked at each other, then inched away from their apparent leader.

  Connor strode to the kid, towering over him, staring him down.

  Tattoo swallowed, looking around the alley, anywhere but at Connor. As if realizing he’d shown fear, he jerked his chin back up.

  “Who are you working for?” Connor repeated.

  The boy glanced at his partners, then back. “Don’t know what you mean.”

  Moving so fast there was no way these mortals could follow, he grabbed the kid’s neck, picked him up and slammed him against the wall. Tattoo’s feet kicked uselessly at the brick, high above the ground.

  “I won’t ask again,” Connor growled.

  The boy squeaked and the smell of urine soaked into the air. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he began to hyperventilate.

  One of the girls shouted, “You’re gonna kill him.”

  Connor slowly turned his head, staring at her.

  She and her friends gasped, crab walking backwards until they hit the wall on the other side of the alley.

  He knew what they saw. His anger at the stupidity of these children had fired his blood. His fangs, extended and showing clearly through his grim smile. His eyes, a blood red, blazing with fury.

  They saw the monster inside, the monster he was.

  He used it to his advantage, and lied. “I’ll snap his neck before you can blink, little girl, if you don’t answer my question.”

  She sniffled as the other girl started to sob. The boy beside them inched farther away, heading in the direction of the alley’s entrance.

  “I-I... we don’t know his name,” she replied.

  “But he calls himself...” Connor prompted.

  “Diablo.”

  Connor chuckled, a raspy sound that made the girl flinch. “The devil, aye? Not quite.”

  He let the boy slide to the ground and told the girl, “Tell me everything.”

  After she’d listed off several addresses where he might find this ‘Diablo’, Connor pulled a
bag from his duster and sprinkled the special sand over the pentagram, then ground it in beneath his boot. By the time he was done, the markings had nearly disappeared.

  He glared at the kids. “Play with magic again, and I’ll be back. Next time won’t be as pleasant.” He strode out of the alley, not giving any of them another glance.

  Out on one of the busy main streets, he scanned each direction. Trying to track any scent beneath the fumes of exhaust and people bustling about would be difficult, if not impossible.

  He’d check out the addresses, but with the ritual not taking place, the demon would know something was wrong when he didn’t receive a nice bite of power. He’d be hightailing his cowardly ass out of his preferred hangouts.

  Connor headed down the street toward a bar that catered to those like him. He could get a drink, then finish the night’s frustrating hunt.

  Two blocks from the bar, the air filled with the stench of sulfurous smoke. He eased along the sidewalk, searching for the demon. Across the street, a man stood in front of a closed door. His black clothes, inky dark hair and pale face pegged him as another Goth. But the red encircling the green in his eyes told Connor another story.

  Demon.

  He inhaled deeply, letting his heightened senses sift through the scents.

  The guy wasn’t pure demon. Something else, most likely vampire, filled his blood.

  A half-breed.

  Connor froze, staring at the man. As a Judge, one of his jobs was to kill any half-breed he came across.

  Tonight was turning into a wild ride.

  And just maybe he’d get lucky enough to catch the half-breed, dispose of him without too much damage to the city.

  Half-breeds were well known for being crazed with bloodlust, the monsters inside them unable to coexist easily in any human body.

  Between the vampire blood and the demon soul, this had to be the one responsible for the murders throughout the city. It would explain the extent of the depraved torture the victims had suffered.

  Connor moved to the street, keeping an eye on the half-breed while watching for a break in the traffic. The man left the doorway and strode down the street. Exactly the way Connor had come. Probably going to search out the teenagers and find out why the ritual hadn’t been completed.