Destined for an Early Grave

  “Gregor cheated.”

  The Guardian let me go so abruptly that I fell. Bones didn’t glance at me again. All his attention was on the female who marched over to him.

  “If you’re lying, you’ll join her in death,” she bit out.

  Bones pointed at his stomach, where an odd dark swirl was visible in his flesh even under the smears of blood.

  “Liquid silver,” Bones said. He held out Gregor’s knife. “Somewhere in this is an injection device. Gregor poisoned me with that last stab, so I’d be slower and weaker while fighting him. Probably reckoned no one would know what he did once I was shriveled.”

  So that explained the agony I’d felt from Bones—it had been silver spreading through his veins from that single, treacherous stab. I knew the pain had been too debilitating to be caused by a normal wound. How like Gregor to cheat in such a foul way, once he’d realized he couldn’t beat Bones in a fair fight.

  The Guardian took the knife, looking it over carefully. She squeezed it from every angle, and when her thumb pressed the very tip of the hilt, a gleaming liquid slid along the blade.

  “Clever,” she murmured. Then her gaze hardened as she looked at me. “She had no way of knowing about this. Thus her punishment is the same for interfering.”

  “I knew.”

  The Guardian’s head swiveled toward me.

  “I felt the silver burning up Bones inside,” I continued. “We’re connected, since he’s my sire as well as my husband. That’s how I knew.”

  Lucius strode up to me. “He’s not your husband, Gregor is!”

  Bones arched a brow in the direction of Gregor’s body. “She’s only got one husband now, doesn’t she?”

  From the expression on the Law Guardian’s face, my explanation wasn’t good enough. I stiffened. It was one thing to die to save Bones, but if there was a chance to live…

  “Plus, Gregor had shown me a similar knife when I was a teenager,” I added. “It was so long ago, I’d forgotten about it. But when Bones acted so strangely after being stabbed, and I could feel his pain spreading even after the knife was taken out—”

  “Liar,” Lucius shouted. “Gregor never had a knife like that until I picked it up for him yesterday!”

  The Guardian’s eyes settled on him. Too late, Lucius realized what he’d done.

  “You were part of his cheating,” she stated. “Take him.”

  Two of the male Guardians caught Lucius as he tried to run. From how strong they were, I knew Lucius didn’t have a chance of escaping. Then again, neither might I.

  The Guardian’s knowing green eyes landed on me next, suspicion plain in her gaze. “You swear by your blood that you only interfered in the duel when you realized Gregor had cheated?”

  “Yes.”

  After all, it was mostly true. I’d known something was wrong; I just hadn’t known what it was. So in that regard, I hadn’t interfered until I realized Gregor was cheating. Besides, if Gregor hadn’t cheated in the first place, then there would have been no need for me to interfere, because Bones would have eventually killed him.

  The Guardian glared at me for a long moment, but I didn’t flinch under her gaze. Then she looked around. Bones was giving her a hard stare, as were Mencheres, Spade, and Vlad. Since there was room for reasonable doubt, if she ruled against me, Bones wouldn’t accept it and this would turn into a bloodbath. She had to know that. But would it factor into her decision?

  Finally, she shrugged. “I have no way to prove if you’re lying, and Gregor’s guilt is clear, so you are free to go.”

  Bones grabbed me in the next instant, holding me in an embrace that would have squeezed all the air out of me, if I’d had any. I held him back just as hard, hearing some of Gregor’s allies sputter indignant objections. There’ll be repercussions, I thought. There would also be repercussions for showing so many people what I could do with fire, even if I didn’t know how long I’d have that power, but I pushed those concerns aside for a later day.

  “We need to get the silver out of you, Crispin,” I heard Spade say over Bones’s shoulder.

  “Not yet,” Bones replied.

  I shoved him lightly. “Yes, now. Are you crazy?”

  He let out a snort as he released me, intensity lurking in his gaze. “No, luv. You are.”

  Bones knew I hadn’t interfered just because I’d realized Gregor had cheated. There’ll be repercussions for that, too, I thought, but first things first.

  The liquid silver had to be cut out of Bones, I discovered. It was a gruesome, bloody process that made me wish I could kill Gregor a thousand times over. No wonder something like this was illegal in a duel. I wouldn’t use such an insidious weapon against an enemy. Bones had his shields up between us as Spade cut into him, but I didn’t need our supernatural connection for it to hurt me as well.

  Lucius was executed by the Law Guardians during his process.

  When they were done with Lucius, the head Guardian informed us that we owed financial restitution for the theft of a member of Gregor’s line—my mother. My mouth dropped at the amount she named, but Bones just nodded and said it would be taken care of. Since Gregor was dead, I wasn’t sure who’d get the check, or if it would just go to the Law Guardians, but once again, I filed that away under Future Business.

  Mencheres knelt next to us in the bloodstained earth. He held out his hand to Bones, who looked at it for the space of several seconds before he took it.

  “You didn’t see any of this?” Bones asked Mencheres.

  The Egyptian vampire had the faintest smile. “Not a single part. I find I hate not knowing what will come to pass.”

  Bones snorted. “Welcome to the way the rest of us live.”

  Spade finished digging out the last of the silver from Bones and sat back with a grunt. “Blimey, Crispin, I hope never to do that again.”

  Bones let out another snort. “I quite agree, mate.”

  “Can we get out of here?” Now that Bones no longer had silver inside, poisoning him, I figured it was a good time to leave. Gregor’s allies were still giving us very hostile looks, though the Guardians’ presence—and Bones’s allies—kept them from acting. Still, no need to press our luck. Between Bones and me, we’d probably run through all our nine lives that night.

  “Excellent idea, luv,” Bones said, rising. “Where do you want to go?”

  An ironic laugh escaped me. “Anywhere but Paris, Bones. Anywhere but there.”

  Dear Readers,

  I’m so excited to introduce an excerpt from the first “spin-off” novel of the Night Huntress series, First Drop of Crimson.

  After her husband’s murder, Denise wants to leave all things paranormal behind, but thanks to an ancestor who made a pact with a demon and then ran off, she’s forced back into the vampire world. Spade, a.k.a. Charles, is the powerful Master vampire Denise turns to for help trying to find her demon-dodging relative. If she doesn’t succeed, the demonic essence she’s been branded with will be permanent. After he lost the woman he loved to a mortal death, Spade has no intention of caring for a human again, especially one who wants nothing more than to return to a normal life. But as the demon brands gain strength inside Denise, she’s unable to suppress her attraction for Spade, and his cool detachment toward humans is put to the test.

  So turn the page for your first look at this exciting new chapter in the Night Huntress world.

  Jeaniene Frost

  YOU’RE SAYING THE MAN JUST…DISAPPEARED?

  The police officer couldn’t quite keep the disbelief out of his tone. Denise fought the urge to slap him. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She’d already had to call her family and tell them this unthinkable news about Paul, grieved with them as they arrived at the hospital, then gave her report to the police. The one they seemed to have such trouble believing.

  “As I said, when I looked up, the killer was gone.”

  “No one at the bar saw anyone out there, ma’am,” the officer said for th
e third time.

  Denise’s temper snapped. “That’s because they were inside when we were attacked. Look, the guy choked my cousin. Doesn’t Paul have bruises around his neck?”

  The officer glanced away. “No, ma’am. The medical examiner hasn’t looked at him yet, but the paramedics didn’t see any signs of strangulation. They did say they found evidence of cardiac arrest…”

  “He’s only twenty-five years old!” Denise burst out, ice sliding up her spine. Paul was dead—of an apparent heart attack. Just like Amber and Aunt Rose. Denise knew she hadn’t imagined the man who’d been immune to both pepper spray and silver nitrate. The one who’d disappeared in a blink—and the big dog that had come out of nowhere.

  Of course, she could relay none of this to the officer. He already looked at her like she was teetering on the crazy end of distraught. It hadn’t escaped Denise’s notice that when she’d been treated for pepper spray, her blood had also been taken, presumably to check her alcohol level. She’d already been asked multiple times how much she’d drank before leaving the bar. It was clear nothing she said, even leaving out mention of the supernatural, would be taken seriously if the medical examiner ruled that Paul had died of a heart attack.

  Well, she knew people who’d believe her enough to investigate, but none of them was in this city, let alone this room.

  “Can I go home now?” Denise asked.

  A flash of relief crossed the officer’s face. It only made Denise want to smack him more. “Sure. I can arrange for a squad car to take you.”

  “I’ll call a cab.”

  He stood, bobbing his head. “Here’s my card if you remember anything else.”

  Denise took it only because wadding it up and throwing it at him would look questionable. “Thank you.”

  She waited until she was inside her house before she made the call. No need to have the taxi driver talk about how his latest fare had babbled on about a murder by a man who might have turned into a dog. If the police found out she’d said that, she could forget about them following up on any leads she gave them, even if they did figure out this was a murder.

  On the third ring, however, an automated voice picked up and intoned that the number she’d dialed had been disconnected. Denise hung up. That’s right, Cat had been moving from place to place because some crazy vampire was stalking her. She obviously changed her number, too. Was Cat still overseas? How long had it been since Denise last spoke to her? Weeks, maybe.

  Next Denise tried the number she had listed for Bones, Cat’s husband, but it, too, was disconnected. Denise dug around her house until she found an address book with the number for Cat’s mother in it. The number was from over a year ago, so no surprise when that was also out of service.

  Frustrated, Denise flung the address book on her couch. She’d been avoiding contact with the undead world, but now when she needed someone plugged into it, she didn’t have anyone’s current number.

  There had to be someone she could reach. Denise scrolled through the entries in her cell phone, looking for anyone who had connections to Cat. When she was almost at the end, one name leapt out at her.

  Spade. That’s right, she’d inputted his number in her phone three months ago, because Spade had been the one to pick her up the last time she saw Cat.

  Denise pressed “Call,” praying she didn’t hear that chipper monotone telling her that the number was no longer in service. Three rings, four…

  “Hallo?”

  Denise felt light-headed with relief at hearing Spade’s distinctive English accent. “Spade, it’s Denise. Cat’s friend,” she added, thinking of how many Denise’s a centuries-old vampire probably knew. “I don’t seem to have Cat’s number and…I’m pretty sure some thing murdered my cousin. Maybe both cousins and my aunt, too.”

  It came out in a babble that sounded nuts, even to her. She waited, hearing nothing but her breathing during the pause on the other line.

  “This is Spade, isn’t it?” she asked warily. What if she’d hit the wrong number somehow?

  His voice flowed back immediately. “Yes, apologies for that. Why don’t you tell me what you believe you saw?”

  Denise noticed his phrasing, but she was too wired to argue about it. “I saw my cousin murdered by a man who didn’t even twitch when I maced him in the face. Then the next thing I saw, a big damn dog was standing where the man had been, but it ran off, and the police think my twenty-five-year-old cousin died of a heart attack instead of being strangled.”

  Another silence filled the line. Denise could almost picture Spade frowning as he listened. The vampire scared her, but right now, she was more afraid of whatever had killed Paul.

  “Are you still in Fort Worth?” he asked at last.

  “Yes. Same house as…as before.” When you dropped me off after killing a man in cold blood.

  “Right. I’m sorry to inform you that Cat is in New Zealand. I can ring her or give you her number, but it would take a day at least for her to get to you, if not more.”

  Her friend and expert on all things inhuman was halfway around the world. Great.

  “…but I happen to be in the States,” Spade went on. “In fact, I’m in California. I could be there later today, have a look at your cousin’s body.”

  Denise sucked in her breath, torn between wanting to find out what had killed Paul in the quickest way possible, and feeling edgy about it being Spade doing the investigating. Then she shoved that back. Paul, Amber, and her aunt’s death meant more than her being uncomfortable about who was helping her.

  “I’d appreciate—”

  Spade cut her off. “Expect me ’round noon.”

  She looked at her watch. Less than six hours. She couldn’t get from California to Texas that fast if her life depended on it, but if Spade said he’d be there around noon, she believed him.

  “Thanks. Can you tell Cat, um, that…”

  “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t involve Cat or Crispin just yet,” Spade said, calling Bones by his human name as he always did. “They’ve had an awful time of it recently. No need to fret them if it’s something I can handle.”

  Denise bit back her scoff. She knew what that translated to. Or if you’ve just imagined all of this.

  “I’ll see you at noon,” she replied and hung up.

  The house seemed eerily quiet. Denise glanced out the windows with a shiver, telling herself the foreboding sensation she had was a normal reaction to her violent night. Just to be sure, however, she went through each room and checked the windows and doors. All locked. Then she forced herself to shower, trying to block the image of Paul’s blue-tinged face from her mind. If she hadn’t agreed to go out drinking with him, he might still be alive now. Or what if she’d immediately run into the bar for help, instead of staying in the parking lot? Could she have saved Paul if she’d come out with a bunch of people who could have scared the attacker off? He’d left as soon as people responded to her screams; maybe she could have saved Paul if she hadn’t stood there uselessly macing his killer.

  Denise was so caught up in her thoughts that she ignored the tapping sounds until they happened a third time. Then she froze. They were coming from her front door.

  She pulled her Glock out of her nightstand. It was filled with silver bullets, which might only slow down a vampire but would kill anything human.

  What if it was someone trying to pick the lock? Should she call the police or try to see what it was first? If it was just a raccoon nosing around and she called the cops, they’d really discount anything she said in the future.

  Denise kept the gun pointed toward the sounds as she edged around to the front windows. If she angled her body just so, she could see—

  “What?” Denise gasped out loud.

  On her porch was a little girl, something red on her outfit. She was tapping on the door in a way that looked hurt or exhausted or both. Now Denise could make out the word “help” coming faintly from her.

  Denise set down the gun and y
anked open the door. The little girl’s face was streaked with tears and her whole frame trembled.

  “Daddy’s hurt,” the child lisped.

  She picked her up, looking around for a car or any other indicator of how the little girl had gotten there.

  “What happened, sweetie? Where’s your daddy?” Denise crooned as she took the child inside.

  The little girl smiled. “Daddy’s dead,” she said, her voice changing to something low and deep.

  Denise’s arms fell at the instant deluge of weight, horror filling her as she saw the little girl morph into the same man who’d murdered Paul.

  “Thanks for letting me in,” he said, his hand clapping over Denise’s mouth just in time to cut off her scream.

  Spade closed his mobile phone, mulling the conversation he’d just had. Denise MacGregor fancied her cousin had been murdered by some sort of weredog—except weredogs or were-anything didn’t exist.

  The only reason he was making the trip to Texas was on the off chance that there was another explanation. It was possible a vampire murdered her cousin and then tranced Denise into thinking she’d seen him transform into a dog. Human memories were so easy to alter. And if Denise had witnessed a vampire attack, the murderer might decide to use more than glamour to make sure she didn’t retell the tale. Since Denise was his best mate’s friend, he’d go to ensure her safety, if another vampire was involved.

  Spade cast a look at his bed with regret. He’d long ago mastered the crippling lethargy that came with sunrise, but that didn’t mean he relished a trip to Texas now. Ah, well. It was the least he could do to ensure Crispin and Cat didn’t rush back from New Zealand for what was, in all likelihood, just the emotional breakdown of a human who’d snapped from too much grief and stress.

  He remembered the look Denise gave him the last time he’d seen her. Specks of blood dotted her clothes, her face had been as pale as Spade’s own ivory skin, and her hazel eyes held a mixture of revulsion and fear.

  “Why did you have to kill him?” she’d whispered.