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Dawné Dominique

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Kindred Blood, III: The First
by Dawné Dominique   

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Books by Dawné Dominique
· Crimson Cries, IV: The First
· Dark Diary, II: The First
· Eden's Hell, I: The First
                >> View all



Publisher:  Purple Sword Publications ISBN-10:  1612920217


Copyright:  November 14, 2011 ISBN-13:  9781612920214

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Purple Sword Publications
Dawné Dominique

There is nothing thicker—or stronger—than kindred blood.

Being married in Scotland sounds like the perfect romantic getaway, doesn't it? For Daniella Rolfe and Aiden Blackmore, the nightmare they'd left behind was just the beginning.  When Aiden is kidnapped, Daniella will go to any lengths to see he's returned to her matter the amount of blood to be shed.Together with Spencer Dalton, a private investigator she hired to help find Aiden, they begin to unravel more than they bargained for.

Broken vows are the least of Daniella's worries now. 

A strange iciness leeched into his left cheek, and whatever warmth he'd managed to steal from Rowan's blood was gone. Thankfully, the cold helped him become a little more alert.
Aiden's mind reeled in a pain-induced fog, and every cramped muscle in his body screamed for release. Dirt crunching beneath shoes sounded like shotgun pellets pinging off the inside of his skull. Carefully, and ever so slowly, he turned his head toward the sound.
“Well, if it isn't the infamous Detective Aiden Blackmore, or I should say, Rolfe's new pet.”
The voice ricocheted off the walls with a metallic echo that pounded each syllable through his brain. Worse, it dripped with malice. He raised his head a scant inch off the floor, praying he wouldn't puke. His nostrils flared at the scent of something so intoxicating, the dizziness that came forced him to place his forehead back on the coolness of the floor. A murky red cloud crept in at the corners of his vision, as if he swam in blood with his eyes open.
Well, enough of this shit.
He rose carefully to his bare feet and swayed as the world tilted dangerously around him. His stomach skyrocketed into the center of his throat. Shirtless and still wearing the same pajama bottoms he'd snagged from Daniella's personal stock, he concentrated on the woman in front, who wavered in and out of focus. Vestiges of a dream? Where had he seen her? Someone had walked into the bedroom. Through the pain, he remembered a woman with long, white hair. And here he thought he'd been hallucinating an angel. This bitch was no emissary from God. Then he felt the pinch of a needle in his upper arm.
“I've been called quite a few things in my time, but angel? That's a new one.” The gibe was blatant, especially followed by a bout of jeering laughter.
Aiden's voice came out sounding like pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. “H-how can you read my thoughts?”
“In this day and age, it's amazing what modern science can achieve. We've injected you with a little cocktail that makes you, well, a little more cooperative, so to speak.”
We? Try as he might, he couldn't place the barrier up in his mind. “Cooperative?” He twisted his lips into a sneer. “You kidnapped me half-naked and jacked me up on some kind of dr—”
Every lucid thought trickled out of his head as that delightful aroma wafted through his nose again, stronger than before; the same that had woken him. He whirled around. Huddled on the floor behind him was an emaciated woman. Dirty auburn hair splayed across the bony shoulders poking through a stained sundress. He'd seen enough junkies in his day to know the woman was wacked out on something. He jutted his chin in her direction. “Is she in here for the same crime?” The urge to lick the drool off his lips became unbearable.
His captor followed his stare. “Her? Oh, no. She's for you. I take very good care of my pets. She, unfortunately, didn't make the cut.”
Pet? Cut? This wasn't real. It couldn't be. He was having a blood madness-induced nightmare. Regrettably, the muscles of his guts clenched too painfully for it not to be real. He doubled over. The coppery bouquet swirling and teasing at his senses made his head spin more. His canines lengthened as escalating hunger brought him painfully to his knees. His teeth bit through his lower lip, and like a famished orphan, he suckled the few drops of blood as if his life depended on it. In a sense, it did.
The blonde bitch moved closer and crouched, her voice soothing and condescending at the same time. “Blood is as intoxicating as any crack pipe or heroin needle. We become addicted to one thing in order to survive, and we'll do anything to get it. It's survival of the fittest. Nothing is stronger or more compulsive. When it's not around when you need it, the pain is horrid, isn't it?”
Fingers ruffled through his hair. He jerked away, hating her touch. With more effort than it was worth, he looked up and glared. “Where's Daniella?”
This woman was beautiful, smart, and extremely dangerous. Her line of vision lingered on his bare chest before moving to his crotch. Only then did he realize the raging hard-on he was sporting.
A sinister smile curled the corners of her glossy lips. “The thirst puts Viagra to shame, doesn't it? In time, you'll learn to control it. But I see why Daniella chose to keep you as a pet.” She licked her lips and leaned so close, he smelt delectable traces of her last feeding. “A man of authority, go figure. I shall enjoy breaking you.” She rose and left, her heels a receding clicking inside his skull. The whoosh of a metal door opening was followed by a dull clank as it closed, sealing him in silence.
Aiden pressed himself into the floor, battling the vicious knives scoring inside his guts. With difficulty, he swallowed the flood of saliva and dry heaved. If there were a way of tossing his cookies without feeling worse, he would've right then and there. And here he thought vamps weren't supposed to feel pain.
Fucking bullshit!
A slight whirling sound drew his attention up to the corner of the cell where the bitch had exited. A small camera lens mounted above the seamless doorframe stared straight at him. He gave whoever was watching his favorite finger and grimaced from the effort it took to raise his arm.
It was then he realized they'd left the girl. The tantalizing aroma of blood absorbed through his pores, her heart beating in time with his pounding migraine. The ruddy fog thickened behind his eyes, and he almost swooned, feeling weaker by the second. Was he strong enough to fight this? He remembered the stern lectures from Daniella about the blood madness. If he fed now, he'd lose control; that much he knew. So why had they left her here? The answer made him furious.
He crouched on all fours and screamed until he was hoarse. “You can't leave her in here. Get her out! Get her the fuck outta here. NOW! Get her out...get her out—”

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