Becoming a vampire saved Alyssa from death, but the price was high: the loss of everything and everyone attached to her mortal life. She’s still learning to cope when a surprise confrontation with Santino Vitale, the Acta Sanctorum’s most fearsome hunter, sends her fleeing back to the world she once knew, and Fallon, the friend she’s missed more than anything.
Alyssa breaks vampire law by revealing her new, true self to her old friend, a fact which causes strong division in the group that should support her most: her clan.
Worse yet, her revelation entangles Fallon in the struggle between vampires and hunters and The Acta Sanctorum is ready to attack again, with a new army of hybrid creations: the Frenzy Soldiers.
If Alyssa hopes to survive and keep her mortal friend safe, she’ll have to be willing to make a deal with the enemy, and regain her clan’s support. It will take everyone working together in a precarious truce to fight against the Acta Sanctorum’s new threat.
Excerpt
Hot blood coursed through my veins as I gulped down the gushing fountain of my victim’s neck.
He won’t be hurting women anymore. I thought to myself as I swallowed each hot mouthful of blood. How quickly the hunter becomes the prey.
Using the power of my mind, I sent him feelings: waves of pain and grief for the murder he had committed. The human mind was easy to control, and I called upon all the skill I possessed to make him suffer.
Murderers and those who dealt in crime and abuse were my prey. It was because of them, those vile individuals, that I was a vampire. Memories of my own near-death experience and echoes of past wounds fueled me.
As a vampire, I had power, the power to stop bad people from doing awful, evil things. Fate has a way of working things out, and it gave my bloodlust a purpose. If I was to be this creature, I would ensure that my feeding stopped the unnecessary deaths of innocents.
I drained him slowly and painfully, savoring the honey-sweet elixir of his blood. Keeping him alert enough to feel every draw against his neck, I gnawed at the wound with my sharp teeth and dug my nails into his flesh. I wanted him to feel everything. I wouldn’t let him go unconscious. He needed to know and understand the torment he had inflicted on others. I only wished I had found him, sooner before he ended the life of the poor woman lying at our feet. The fearful look in her dead eyes was a painful reminder of the men who had attacked me.
This man would pay with his dying breath.
My victim moaned pitifully. He beat against my back, struggling to free himself. I tightened my grip, locking his body in my deadly embrace.
He was going nowhere.
The heat from his blood coursed through my veins, strengthening me, warming me, giving me his life-energy. I savored this feeling: the tingling rush, the ecstasy, that filled my being.
Just as the wave of pleasure crested, his heart slowed to an erratic thump, and the gushing fountain became a trickle. I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. His blood pressure was dropping.
I lifted my head and gazed into his fear-filled eyes. “It’s no fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” I smiled at him, licking the last few drops of his blood from my fangs.
My head swam with energy—his energy. I felt powerful, strong, and just.
The wretched man was like putty—just a lump of mush—in my hands. Weakly, he exhaled a final dying breath. The light of life in his eyes extinguished. His head lolled and then flopped backward.
I listened carefully. His heart thumped once, twice, and then … nothing.
I bit my tongue and swirled a mix of my saliva and blood across the wound on his neck, ensuring it would close. The evidence of my feeding would be gone by the time anyone found him.
A strange prickling sensation tickled the back of my neck. The hair on my arms stood straight on end. I had come to know this unmistakable feeling quite well since I’d been turned. Another vampire was close.
I dropped my victim unceremoniously on top of the woman he’d just killed and turned around to scan the area. Though the street was dark, my vampire eyes had no problem spotting another pair of pale eyes staring back at me from the shadows.
A footstep broke the silence. Still young, I’d had limited dealings with other vampires. Not all were friendly. I hoped the one watching me would be.
“I know you’re out there,” I called to the darkness. “Show yourself.”
Raspy laughter crawled out of the shadow. “Are you sure you want me to do that, Alyssa?”
In the space of a second, realization hit me. My eyes went wide and my heart slammed into my chest.
Oh shit. Santino!
Another footstep echoed around me as he moved into the light.
A trademark of the vampire kind, his blue-gray eyes seemed to glow as he looked at me. A wild mane of salt-and-pepper hair jutted out in all directions on top of his head. Deep-creased wrinkles and scars covered an aged face that had seen many battles. His lips pulled back into a predatory smile, revealing a perfect set of sharp white fangs.
I was running before I could even comprehend the thought of it. I needed to get away. Fast.
***
As the sun began its ascent into the sky, I settled down, safely at home, preparing for sleep. But it wouldn’t come peacefully. Somewhere, trapped between the dreaming and waking world, I felt his presence. The cold, prickling sensation. It crawled up my spine and raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
Not again. I tried desperately to rouse myself. I knew what would come next.
As if on cue, those cold, emotionless, blue-gray eyes appeared above me. They locked on me with contempt.
Santino.
I’d dreamt of him for weeks after our last battle. I thought I had finally escaped the daymares that had haunted me, but now they were back.
I knew every scar on that fearsome face, though I wished I didn’t. I’d met him only once before, and against the odds, I’d lived to talk about it. That was something only a handful could claim. Santino was not one to leave anyone alive once he’d set his sights on them.
I willed myself to wake. But, just as before, the dream continued.
His piecing gaze bore into my skull. I was motionless; my body barely held the strength to gasp for air. Laid out like an offering, I was an easy target, ready to be slaughtered.
If I could have screamed I would have, but I was mute, destined to see the events unfold as they had when I had lived through them.
Santino’s mouth formed a sinister smile. The tips of his fangs poked out from behind his lips, but I knew it was not his teeth I should fear.
Stuck again in this nightmare, I tried in vain to will myself awake. Paralysis had me frozen in place, helpless. Slowly, he reached out, grabbing my head, balling up a fistful of my hair. Strands snapped under his grip, pinching and pulling away from my scalp.
I needed to break free from his grasp. I needed to somehow get out of this dream.
Fear gripped me. He rocked my head from one side to the other, inspecting me. Would this finally be the time? Would he finally kill me? His eyes focused on my neck.
Wake up, damn it!
“Not going to be much of a fight, are you?” he said, pulling out his knife—a large thick blade with jagged edges. Blood from his last kill still coated it.
He made the sign of the cross and mumbled a prayer under his breath.
I willed my muscles to listen. Move, I yelled in my head. Move, damn it. Wake up!
My heart beat wildly, thundering in my ears as Santino’s eyes opened and focused on me once more. Disgust flashed across his face, as if I were a mangy animal and it was beneath him to have to put me down. His lips again formed that sinister sneer. I shuddered. His gaze was like ice, sending a shiver slithering down my spine to the churning pit of my stomach.
He exhaled a growling breath that echoed in the room as he placed the cold, heavy blade to my neck.
***
No!
I awoke with a start, shooting upright in bed. My heart pounded, and my chest heaved with each sharp breath.
Disorientation fogged my vision. I struggled to compose myself and come back into reality.
It’s over, he’s gone.
If this had been merely a bad dream, the sight of my room and Lysander sleeping next to me would have been immediate comforts, but this wasn’t just a dream. Those events were real. Re-living my first run in with Santino seemed to be my curse. The memories haunted me, playing out every detail of that bloody night, ending just before Santino attempted to finish me off.
He’d nearly destroyed my entire clan that night. I shuddered at the thought of him. Santino was well known as the Acta Sanctorum’s best hunter—a vampire who made a career of killing his own kind. He and his team of hunters had tracked down and destroyed the largest coven of vampires known to exist.
He killed their leader, Kallisto, right before my eyes. I was supposed to have been next on his hit list. If it hadn’t been for Lysander and the aid of our friends in the Peregrinus clan, I would have died.
I was lucky to have gotten away, and Lysander had almost paid for my escape with his life. Everyone assumed Santino either dead or too weak after that battle to continue his hunt.
Deep down, I felt differently.
I knew he had survived. He was the one I’d seen while hunting. I had run from him without a good look, but there was no doubt in my mind. It couldn't have been anyone else.
When are these dreams going to stop? I sighed, raking my hands through my hair, pulling away long red strands sticking to my clammy face.
Vampires aren’t supposed to have daymares.
I ran the battle though in my memory. Even though months had passed since I had been pulled out of the burning building, it still felt like it had been only a day ago. I remembered Lysander’s motionless body floating in the water. He had managed to escape the fire by diving out of a second-story window to the back yard pool below. It had taken us days to nurse him back to full health.
But Santino was never found.
Lysander believed Santino was gone, and that there was no reason to fear him anymore.
Faint rays of light seeped in through the sides of the curtains. Still daylight. The clock on Lysander’s tall oak dresser flashed as the minutes changed, confirming the time.
Great, only noon. Sunset isn’t for at least seven more hours. Damn these long summer days!
I rubbed my sleepy eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. My heartbeat slowed, returning to a faint whispering thump.
No use trying to get back to sleep now.
A very groggy-looking Lysander rolled over to face me.
I looked into his sleepy eyes, allowing myself to feel the warmth—the connection between us. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
His face always looked so angelic among the sheets. I felt safe with Lysander. He was my guardian, my teacher, and my lover.
“Santino again? I thought you had finally escaped those dreams,” he said, yawning as he stretched out his muscular arms. My midday waking had become routine for the last few months. I’d woken him up too many times with these daymares.
“Yeah. I still can’t get the memory out of my head. What if he did survive? What if he is gaining strength?”
He sat up next to me. His dark chocolate-colored hair, messy from sleep, fell haphazardly around his pale face, highlighting his beautiful blue-gray eyes. The sheet fell to his waist, allowing for a full view of the defined ridges of his chest, corded arms, and broad shoulders. He reached up and gently stroked my face with a cool hand, tracing his thumb over my lips.
“Alyssa, please. We have had this conversation too many times.” He gazed at me imploringly, begging me to go back to sleep. “Even if Santino is still out there, he is weak. The fire almost killed me. You and the Peregrinus brought me back with your blood. Santino wouldn’t have that luxury. He will take months, if not years, feeding on the blood of animals to heal back to full strength again.”
“Why do I keep dreaming about him? Why can’t I get him out of my head?” I fisted my hands at my side, balling up bed sheets.
“You’ve had very traumatic experiences.” His voice was soft and soothing. “It is normal for there to be some after-effects.”
“It’s not only that, I saw…”
He put an arm around me and pulled me close. I relaxed a little, enjoying the feel of his strong arms. Nuzzling into his chest, I listened to his heart. It beat in a slow, peaceful rhythm. I wanted to settle down, to lie there enjoying the comfort and pleasure of being close to Lysander. But the thought wouldn’t leave my head.
The words spilled from my mouth before I could form cohesive thoughts. “I saw a man. Last night. He looked exactly like Santino. I was hunting.”
“It’s only natural that your mind is focusing on Santino.” Lysander’s voice remained soft, as smooth as velvet and as peaceful as a lullaby. He gently stroked my arm. “But you must trust me. If he is out there, he is too weak to hurt us.”
What if he isn’t? I shook my head.
Please relax, Alyssa. His voice was a whisper in my mind.
“Lysander, get out of my head,” I warned.
I still hadn’t mastered completely how to close off my mind. Any time I was emotional, about anything, I lost all control. Lysander knew this and usually pretended to avoid eavesdropping, but I knew he could listen in to my inner monologue at will. At well over two thousand years old, it was only natural for him to use his mental abilities. They were as common to him as a reflex.
“Alyssa, I do not need to listen to your thoughts to know you aren’t letting this go. I can feel your tension. And I can see it in your frightened face.”
I sighed. I needed him to take my concerns more seriously, but the fact that I was so young, so new to this life, worked against me. Lysander, as well as the others, though loving as family, tended to regard me as naive and inexperienced. They had centuries of life behind them, and at twenty-five, I was no more than a child in their eyes.
“Call it intuition or whatever. I just feel like these terrible dreams are a warning. I saw him. I know I did. Santino is still out there and stronger than we think.”
Lysander let out small groan. “What would you have us do then? We cannot fight a ghost, a dream, or a figment of your imagination.”
His patronizing tone aggravated me. “I don’t know,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Alyssa, my treasure.” He softened his voice. “I did not mean to offend. I just do not think Santino is as much of a concern as you are making him.”
I buried my head into his neck, absorbing the slow pulsing of his veins against my lips. For a brief moment, my thoughts turned to the feeling of ecstasy and need building inside me. I wanted a taste of Lysander’s blood. I licked at my fangs, focusing on that want, but the thought of Santino would not escape my mind.
“I just can’t shake this feeling. And you’re not helping by making light of my concerns.”
“You are my little trouble maker.” He sighed. “You seem to draw in problematic situations and make things more than they are. I only think—”
“Is that how you think of me? As a magnet for trouble?” I tried to pull away from his body, but his arm held me tight.
He looked down, finding my sad eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you have a penchant for making life more interesting?” He gave me a boyish grin. “Or, that your knack for finding danger has brought adventure back into my life?” His eyes narrowed slightly as if he was studying my face, no doubt hoping his back pedaling was working.
It wasn’t.
I locked my eyes on his, trying to show him the worry I felt, willing my fear and the memory of my previous encounter to flow from me like a wave into his mind.
The corners of his lips dropped. His expression became serious. “Would it make you feel any better if we met with the Peregrinus about this? Maybe in counsel we can come up with an answer to your fears.”
That might be a good idea.
I had avoided telling any of them of my dreams or my encounter with the man who looked like Santino for fear of inciting more worry, but the wisdom of the four remaining members of the clan might prove helpful.
“Yes.” I smiled as I relaxed and leaned into Lysander’s chest. “Maybe they’ll know what to do.”
“Then we will speak to them this evening.” His hand glided up and down my arm. “Now, can we try to go back to sleep? Dusk is not for quite a while.”
“You can.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure I can get back to sleep. My mind is stuck on Santino. It’s almost like he is the boogeyman come back to haunt me.”
“Perhaps I can distract you from these fears.” Lysander’s voice carried an air of mischievousness. He tilted his head away, exposing his neck. The pulsing vein under his skin enticed me. He reached a hand up to the back of my neck and gently pulled me in closer—a silent invitation.
I opened my mouth against his skin and licked at his pulse. A low growl rumbled in his chest. I swirled my tongue on his neck, enjoying his salty taste before I sank my teeth in.
I loved the sensation that accompanied drinking Lysander’s blood: the instantaneous head rush, the wild energy, and the cool tingling as it flowed down my throat. His blood was liquid euphoria, and since turning me, he shared it with me freely whenever I wished.
Ahh, yes, this is a pleasant distraction.
The thick sweet elixir washed down my throat. I let out a slight moan. My heart beat faster, pushing his powerful blood through my veins. It warmed me, filling my being with pleasure.
I pulled back gently from his neck and looked into his hypnotic eyes. The twilight blue-gray pools called out to me. Locking on to me with their pull, they compelled me and drew me to Lysander. A foggy sensation rolled into my head.
Ohh, You’re not playing fair, Lysander.
His strength and practice in the mental arts showed as the blissful dizziness set in. I felt the lust he willed on me. Erotic images played in my head. Desire ignited inside me, heating my blood in anticipation of his kiss. He temporarily derailed the fearful thoughts that had gridlocked my mind with worry. All I could think of was Lysander. I needed him. I wanted him. All of him.
He laid me down gently on the pillows and towered over me before pressing his soft lips to mine. His tongue dipped into my mouth and playfully licked at my fangs.
The gentle pressure of his body against mine reminded me of pleasures of evenings past. I felt the stiff evidence of his desire pressed against my thigh. He nudged his hips forward, rubbing his thickness against me, hinting at his plans.
His hand trailed down my body. With feather-soft touches, he tickled and teased my bare skin. Each touch caused an eruption of gooseflesh, making me hot and ready for more.
“Forget Santino. Wouldn’t you rather think of this?” His voice was magic, deep and husky with need.
I wanted to concentrate on Lysander. I loved his hands on my body, touching, exploring, teasing; but the mention of Santino’s name broke his spell over me.
How quickly could he heal from animal blood?
Lysander nibbled at my ear and trailed slow kisses down my neck. My body reacted to his touch. Warmth spread between my thighs, my breast ached, and my nipples hardened to pebbles as he teased me. But my brain locked onto questions of Santino.
What if he found other vampires to feed on?
I felt the quick pinch of Lysander’s teeth, sinking into my breast, followed by the warm caress of his velvety tongue, lapping at my blood.
What if there are more Saints out there than we expected?
Lysander groaned loudly, then suddenly stopped and sat up. Disappointment filled his eyes as he stared down on me. “You’re not into this today, are you?”
“Huh? What?” His words brought me back into reality.
He let out a loud breath and licked a spot of blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Look into my eyes, Alyssa. Let me take you away from these thoughts.”
“I can’t. I can’t let this go. I feel like this is a warning somehow. I can’t ignore it.”
Lysander sighed and collapsed next to me. He jerked the sheet over his body as he rolled over.
“I’m sorry.” I rolled to face him.
“Well, I will say this. Your mind is getting stronger. You have never broken my control before.” The magic had left his voice.
I never wanted to. “I wish I could say it was all my doing. I wasn’t actively blocking you. It’s just, you said his name and I snapped back into reality.”
A puzzled look marked Lysander face. His eyes narrowed as he turned to me. “Really? You weren’t trying to block me?”
Blood rush to my cheeks. “No, I was enjoying what you were doing.”
Lysander’s mental control had been unbreakable in the past. He had tried to show me how to block him, but I had never been fully capable. I could block my thoughts well enough, but when it came to full control, I still had a lot to learn. He had told me it was because I was so young. As vampires age, our power increases. Someday I would be strong enough to fend off an attack from an ancient like him, but that could be centuries away.
He rolled toward me. “We will talk with the clan tonight. I can see that we will not get past this worry of Santino.” I could hear the tension in his voice.
“Thank you,” I said. I laid my head on his chest, listening for the gentle beating of his heart.
“Try to sleep then. There is not much to do till sundown.”
Lysander wrapped his arms around me and gave a small squeeze.
Sleep was probably best, but I didn’t know if it would come. I feared the memory; the daymare would return the moment I drifted back into unconsciousness.
Lysander’s breathing became shallow. I wish I could sleep like that again. Why is he not worried? How can he sleep so soundly?
I rolled free of his grasp, easing myself out of bed. It would do no good to lie here awake, awaiting dusk. I knew sleep was not going to come. Throwing on some jeans, a bra, and a small red tank top, I left Lysander to sleep peacefully.
My life as a newborn vampire was probably not what most would consider standard. I doubted most newbies ever had to contend with the rage of a two-thousand year old jealous vampire like Kallisto or the hunters of Acta Sanctorum within a month of their turning. I’d done both and lived to talk about it. I should probably have counted my blessings and trusted that the older vampires knew what was best. Still, I couldn’t help but listen to my intuition. Something was definitely wrong, and I had the sneaking suspicion it was about to come back to bite us all.
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