Tall, Dark, and Deadly: Seven Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance
His jaw ached under the pressure of his clenched teeth. She stood there, with her head held high and spine straight, as if she were the victim.
“We can see each other a little more often, now that I’ve mastered my new skill. You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Marguerite tilted her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. She reached out, intending once more to touch him. Kenric whipped his arm forward, knocking the vile appendage away. He couldn’t stomach the thought.
“Is there any point to this?”
“Tell me, my dear. I’m dying to know…” Her eyes blazed with fury, but her lips wore a smile of seduction. She stepped closer, her words hot against his skin. “Do you enjoy seeing your precious Annice again?”
A roar erupted, and his rage unleashed. With the power of a thought, Kenric launched Marguerite into the air and against the far wall. With his mind, he held her up with her feet dangling. Every instinct rebelled at causing pain to the image of innocence reflecting back at him. It isn’t her. It isn’t her. The mantra looped in his head as he stalked closer.
“This is my mind, Marguerite. It would serve you well to remember that the next time you think to play in my head.”
Her stunned expression shifted to a sneer, exposing her fangs. “You think you have the upper hand, love? You always were a little cocky.” Her gaze dropped to his groin. She licked her lips and tongued a fang.
Kenric hit her with another blast of energy, choking off her humor. The force pressed her body and head tighter against the wall. He couldn’t resist having his moment. She couldn’t die here in this delusion of her creation. But he didn’t give a damn. It was too sweet not to try to kill the coldhearted bitch.
“Fine, Kenric. You win. This round,” she conceded, lifting her shaking hands in surrender.
He sucked in a deep breath before releasing it along with his hold. Her body glided down until her feet met the hardwood floor.
“I can feel how much stronger you are Kenric, even as you sleep. Think about it. A master vampire, one with the potency that you possess, blended with the strength of my six centuries, plus the power I’ve procured—we would be a force unlike any vampire or mortal has ever seen. Nothing and no one could ever touch us.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but she’d grown even more insane. She spoke of power as if it were a lover, her eyes wild with lust. “What have you done, Marguerite?” Christ, what had she tapped into? “What is this procurement? Is that how you’re doing this?”
“So many questions.” She shook her head. “Join me, and in due time, all shall be revealed.” Marguerite planted another beckoning smile on her face.
“My answer still hasn’t changed, Marguerite. Never! Never again will I submit and give my mind and soul to you.”
She stepped forward, squared her shoulders, and pinned him with a glare. “You’re a fool, St. James. You’ll regret those words.”
“So be it.”
Her eyes shifted from blue to green. Her face, body, and clothing reversed to their original state. Her hips rocked back and forth in invitation.
She was pure sex.
But it was difficult to be aroused when his every instinct would rather rip her apart than fuck her.
“This isn’t over,” she simply stated. A red ring swirled around her green irises, giving away just how pissed she really was. Good.
He seized her chin, enjoying her sharp intake of air from his sudden grasp.
“For you, Marguerite, it soon will be.”
She pulled herself free and raked him with a hungry glare. Their gazes held once more in challenge before she erupted in laughter. Her image faded to mist.
Kenric gasped, lunging upright in bed. What remained of his bed linens lay tangled at the foot of his mattress. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body, chilling him to the core. The room was still, except for the sound of his rapid breaths. He scanned the darkness of his bedroom.
He was alone.
The shower door swung wide, striking the side of the glass block encasement, rattling its hinges. Even though it had been an illusion, it had felt good washing the touch of that evil bitch off his skin. Kenric stepped out onto his rippled bath mat and grabbed a towel from the bar.
The moment he dropped down on the edge of his bed, the house phone beeped. He groaned. It had to be Guerin. With the edges of the sun barely dipping below the horizon, the only person ringing this soon would be him, since he’d covered operations last night. Reaching over, Kenric pressed the speaker button.
“Yeah. What is it?”
“Damn, man. Good fucking evening to you, too,” Guerin said, laughing. “Who pissed on your sheets?”
Kenric let silence hang on the line and breathed deep before he took any more of his anger out on his second-in-command. “Marguerite was here.”
“Shit! How? There’s no fucking way she should’ve been able to get through without detection. We’re sealed tighter than damn Fort Knox. Do you want me to run a diagnostic on the sensors?”
“No, that’s not necessary. There’s nothing wrong with your sensors.” Kenric ran his hands through his damp hair, pushing the unruly waves over his head, and leaned against the headboard. The antique wood frame creaked from his weight. “She was here, but not in the physical sense.”
“Not in the physical sense. What do you mean? Like a ghost? What, is she dead? Could we get that lucky?”
“Shit, do you think I’d sound so pissed off if that were the case? No, in fact she’s gotten stronger, and apparently, when I’m asleep, she’s fucking found a way into my head. She’s discovered a new talent, and now she can crawl inside my mind and pay me a visit.”
Guerin whistled, long and low. “Damn, she’s one sick bitch. Any idea how she’s gained this new strength? If she’s here messing with you, she must not have found a new male to get her hooks into.”
“No. To quote you, ‘I didn’t get that lucky.’”
“We’re going to find her. It will happen, my man. But you’ve got to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“A ringside seat when you run her through. You hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you. And you’ve got it.”
Guerin started detailing the previous night’s watch. Kenric picked at the loose fiber in his towel, the other male’s voice a distant hum in his ear. In the shower, he’d replayed every word Marguerite had uttered. There had to be a clue. She did nothing without an agenda. Marguerite was too arrogant not to have given him a hint so he’d figure out what she’d accomplished. “Blended with the strength of my six centuries, plus the power I’ve procured.” Could it be that simple? “I want you to ask Elle to research something for me,” Kenric cut Guerin off.
“Oh, okay. Spill.”
“I need her to find out everything she can on vampire lore from around the fifteenth and sixteenth century.”
“All right,” Geurin drawled. “Any particular thing she’s searching for?”
“Marguerite chose her words carefully when she mentioned her new power. She brought up the fact that she’s six-hundred years old and that she’d procured her new strength . . .”
Kenric flexed the fingers of his other hand, curling and uncurling his fist. “See if she can find any mention of ancient vampire myths pertaining to relics, or artifacts of power from that time period.”
“Good idea. I’ll get her on it.”
“Anyway.” Kenric shook his head, as if the act could erase the memory and her voice from his mind. Yeah. If only it were that easy to change his reality. Like the one where he woke every night to a dawn that consisted of shadows and moonbeams instead of UV and blue skies. If he had that kind of Etch-A-Sketch ability, he would have shaken it. “You were saying something about last night? What went down?”
“Another body’s been found. A human female. Like the rest, raped and drained dry for the euphoric high by another DE-addicted vamp. That’s three now in the past four nights.”
“Too damn m
any.” Kenric closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. A headache hammered at the back of his eyeballs. “Where was she found?”
“The Docks. Arran found her on a side street, slumped behind a Dumpster. We took care of the remains.”
“Marguerite’s getting inside my head must be connected to the surge in the number of Death Euphoria-addicted vamps. She’s turning innocent humans then watching them kill and fry their brains. No doubt they’re her calling card to get my attention. And her presence felt too real to have been carried off telepathically from a long distance. She must be tired of playing hide-and-seek and now wants a game of tag.”
Unbidden, Kenric’s fingernails lengthened and curved into claws that dug into his palm. He needed to shift. The ability to shape-shift was the best part of being a vampire. If such a thing as a good part even existed. “Good” and “vampire” didn’t quite belong in the same sentence. God, he needed to run, run until he exhausted some of his anger, before he exploded.
“Guerin, inform Arran I’ll be on patrol tonight. Those murdering bastards are mine. Their cravings aren’t going to give them a rest, and they won’t be smart enough to find a new area for their prey. They’ll be hunting tonight… And so will I.”
Chapter Two
Midnight in Elizabeth Bay, South Carolina. Prime feeding time for the bloodsuckers he hunted. Despite the weight of his steel-toed boots, Kenric moved like a ghost on the cobblestoned streets. The music from a nearby pub vibrated against his chest and rang in his ears. He grimaced as a heavy-metal guitar solo ricocheted off the brick walls of the alley.
His black leather trench coat billowed behind him as the cold wind coming in off the bay funneled between the buildings, carrying with it the fish-laced, briny smell of the Atlantic. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t also mixed in with the stench of rotten garbage and stale tobacco.
In a few hours, the bars along The Docks would close, emptying their drunken patrons. Most would stumble off to their vehicles, and if lucky in their state, would arrive home safely. A few wouldn’t be ready for the party to be over, and they would linger, joining others who loitered after midnight on the dark corners. It was a vampire-feeding wonderland of drunks, prostitutes, the homeless, and drug addicts—a bountiful mix of easy prey.
There was only one problem: a vampire who couldn’t control their urges and continued to feed until they killed their prey became addicted to Death Euphoria. From what he understood, DE was the exhilarating high received by the vampire at the moment their human prey died. DE-addicted vampires, or DEADs, were a menace to the human population, and had become an eternal pestilence for his Enclave.
Only one other thing competed with Death Euphoria for its addictive nature: the blood of an ancient or master vampire, the very thing that gave Marguerite control over her minions without the nasty side effect of turning their brain to mush like DE. He’d witnessed the effects of her ancient blood firsthand during the years he’d spent as her prisoner, watching as she used a vampire’s craving for it as a tool to ensure his devotion. The vampire would become addicted to her and would do anything for Marguerite as long as he got another trip to her vein.
Voices neared the mouth of the alley. Stepping into the shadows, Kenric stilled, allowing the darkness to envelop him. Moments later, a young couple turned into the narrow corridor. They weaved into the alleyway, drunk and oblivious to his presence. Not that they would have noticed him, though, unless it was his wish.
The man wrapped his arm around the woman’s waist, pulling her to him before whispering in her ear. She giggled and then kissed him, as if he held her next breath. Kenric rubbed a leather-gloved hand across his jaw. How many years had it been since he’d held and kissed a woman like that? Like he didn’t know that he had slept alone for more than three centuries.
His world held no place for a woman. He had the Enclave to motivate him each evening, and vengeance against Marguerite to warm his bed each day.
It was enough.
It had to be.
The couple meandered around the corner at the end of the building. He should have been able to hear their footsteps fade, but the music’s constant beat drowned out the subtle sounds.
Another gust of wind raced around the building. The chilled fingers of autumn worked their way along the exposed edges of his neckline. With a shiver, Kenric pulled his collar higher. The pungent scent of roses and musk from the woman’s perfume continued to ride the night’s breeze. He rubbed the back of a gloved hand across his nose and turned to leave. But a trace of a scent, hidden within the strong notes of the fragrance, sparked recognition. Anticipation kicked his heart rate into fast forward.
The heels of his boots pounded against the stone street. Rounding the corner with preternatural speed, he found two DEADs holding the young couple by their throats, their eyes and mouths wide with terror.
“You picked the wrong place to hunt for your prey tonight, boys.”
Both bloodsuckers’ heads jerked at the sound of his voice and they spewed a chorus of angry hisses.
Kenric slid his daggers free and twirled them around his leather-wrapped fingers. Assuming a defensive crouch, he studied them, waiting for their next move.
The vampires had an all-too-familiar look. Their faces glistened from copious amounts of smeared drool. It dripped from their chins and extended fangs. Dilated pupils swallowed up any visible whites of their eyes, turning them into something straight out of a B movie with alien vampires. Death Euphoria addiction consumed them.
He parted his lips to avoid breathing through his nose. Their bodies and clothes reeked of excrement and sweat. A classic symptom of DE addiction, it drove all but the need for the next kill from their mind, including the desire to bathe.
Kenric’s gaze met the DEADs’. He dove into their minds, enthralling them, keeping the vampires’ attention on him. “This is my city, and pissing me off will only get you killed,” Kenric said. “Now, let them go.”
Their hands opened. The humans dropped, coughing and wheezing with each breath. As soon as they hit the ground, Kenric released his control on the DEADs and thrust a hefty dose of mental influence into the couple’s brains, erasing the memory of the attack and ordering them from the area.
“Fuck you!” Spittle sprayed from between one of the DEAD’s overextended fangs. The nasty shit hit the street inches from the toe of Kenric’s boot. If their brains had been firing on all cylinders, they’d have phased their asses away from him by now. But no. The bastards were like zombies with fangs—single-minded focus. Too juiced up to think past their bloodlust. They’d rather stand there and insult him, begging for a fight.
“Now, that’s just damn rude.”
With a flick of his wrist, he released a dagger. It flipped hilt over blade before sinking deep into the neck of the addict. Deep enough to hurt like hell but not far enough to end his sorry life. Yet.
The vampire shrieked in pain. His hands clawed at the dagger. Grabbing the hilt, he yanked the blade from his throat with a strangled cry. A gush of blood erupted from the open, sizzling wound. The river of red streamed down his neck and merged with the grime on the front of his Got Milk? T-shirt.
“You’re dead, Enclave.” The words, mixed with blood, gurgled from the damaged vampire’s mouth.
“Promises, promises…” Kenric twirled his remaining dagger.
The vampires moved apart, circling him like vultures over road kill. Finally, they surged.
Kenric leaped, somersaulting in the air. He landed on the balls of his feet behind them. The two ground to a halt, nearly butting heads. He grabbed the forehead of the one on his right and ended his life with a swift slice of his silver-plated blade, leaving the murderer’s head to dangle like an abused doll.
Ah, sweet karma.
He palmed the hilt of his dagger, enjoying the feel of its perfect balance as he rotated on his heels. The second creature reversed his step and spun, making for a quick exit. With a
burst of speed, Kenric passed him, planting himself in the vamp’s path. The DEAD slammed into Kenric’s chest. Kenric lifted his dagger, preparing to give the rabid animal an undeserved merciful death.
But pain ripped through Kenric’s right side, halting the intended path of his blade.
“What the fuck!” He whirled and found another vampire had dropped in on the action. Another stab of pain shot through the right side of his neck. The vampire to his back had got in a lucky slice. Kenric’s vision went red. He pivoted and threw a kick to the center of the vampire’s gut. The DEAD crumbled to his knees, sucking hard for air.
Hot blood trailed down Kenric’s side. Air sawed in and out of his lungs. His head pounded. Fury drove the blood in his veins.
Reaching out with his mind, he harnessed the power of the wind. A trick he wasn’t sure every master vampire could pull off, but one he’d honed over the last century. His long coat whipped at his legs. Loose trash and sand formed a chaotic cyclone, disorienting the vampires around him. It gave him the distraction he needed.
Kenric closed his eyes. Power glowed in his mind like a white-hot orb. He coiled it tighter and tighter, compressing it, holding it as it grew. The heat of it burned inside his core for release. He shook from the increasing mental load, but he had to make sure it was enough. He would only get one shot.
Sweat ran down his face. He squeezed his eyes tighter, needing one more second…
Got it.
An invisible wave of energy exploded from his mind and body. It barreled into the newcomer and sent him flying into a brick wall. The loud crack of a shattered skull echoed off the stone streets. A limp and crumpled mound of vampire arms and legs slithered down the wall. He wasn’t dead yet, but he was at least out of the game.
Two down, one to go.
He spun, grabbing the other DEAD’s arm, and twisted. The vampire howled in pain as the bones in his wrist snapped. The addict’s knife clinked and bounced onto the sidewalk.