Blade on the Hunt
By Lauren Dane
“When you awaken, you will have to find her yourself. Or she will find you.”
These were the words given to Rowan Summerwaite by the Goddess as Rowan lay clinging to life. Broken—but not defeated—by the ancient Vampire Enyo.
After weeks of mandatory down time, a recharged and vengeance-fueled Rowan heads out from her father’s Keep, leading a team of some of the most terrifying beings on earth with one goal in mind—track and eliminate the Vampire who attacked her.
But as the team moves across Europe and is hit with wave after wave of attacks, the tensions between Clive Stewart—the haughty, stylish Scion of North America whom Rowan grew even closer to during her recovery—and a rival Vampire ramp up. Befuddled, confused, flattered and annoyed, Rowan’s the woman in the middle. She’s not used to being claimed in a way that’s not about how strong her sword arm is or who raised her. Clive Stewart is everything she shouldn’t want in a man—he’s bossy, he’s a Vampire, and he considers her his—but she’s past denying how it makes her feel that he fights for her the way he does. She’s past denying she’s in love.
In contrast to the uneven footing falling in love has given her, Rowan is utterly certain she will locate her quarry. She’s stronger and more powerful than she’s ever been after the tests and bloody lessons of the last years. Her connection with the Goddess is seamless and the light of her mission burns from within. And she’ll need all the help she can get because it’s not very long before Rowan and her team realize the threat is far greater than one crazy old Vampire. There’s a war brewing and Rowan will fight it to the death. It’s what she was born to do.
75,000 words
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the November 2014 edition of the Dear Reader letter. This month, Carina Press and I share an anniversary: five years since we joined Harlequin! Harlequin has been an amazing home for both of us, showing support, enthusiasm and offering a team environment for both the business and for authors. I’m thrilled to have seen Carina Press and our authors grow to great success in sales, reviews, careers and awards in the five years since we opened our doors, and we believe things can only get better from here.
In honor of the holiday season, two authors bring us holiday novellas. First, in Shannon Stacey’s contemporary romance, Her Holiday Man, two people, both wounded by love in the past, are brought together by a widow, a child’s joy, and the spirit of Christmas. Later in the month, star-crossed lovers Gabe and Cat meet again at Christmas after five years apart—just a week before she’s set to marry another man, in the historical romance A Christmas Reunion by Susanna Fraser.
Lauren Dane is back with the third installment in her urban fantasy series, and this one is more romantic than ever! Don’t miss Rowan and Clive in Blade on the Hunt.
As a follow-up to his incredibly popular romantic suspense Fair Game, male/male romance author Josh Lanyon brings us Fair Play, in which ex-FBI agent Elliot Mills must figure out who is willing to kill to keep his former ’60s radical father’s memoirs from being published.
In Tempting the Player by Kat Latham, a rugby player’s extreme fear of flying keeps his career from taking off—until a sexy pilot tempts him into her cockpit to help him overcome his phobia...of planes and commitment. Joining Kat in returning with a contemporary romance is Stacy Gail with Where There’s a Will, the much-anticipated story of Coe, who won reader’s hearts in Starting from Scratch. This is one hero who will steal your heart, all because of the milk!
Designed for Love by Kelsey Browning is also in our contemporary romance lineup in November. A former Houston socialite is out to prove she’s more than a blonde bobblehead by managing a huge construction project. When an environmentalist mucks up Ashton’s plans, she must rely on the blue-collar contractor who can either help her build her dreams or crush them.
Last, but not least, of the fantastic contemporary romances is male/male romance In the Fire, the second part of the In the Kitchen duology by Nikka Michaels and Eileen Griffin. After spending the last eight years apart, chefs Ethan Martin and Jamie Lassiter have to decide whether to face the fire to get what they want or live a lifetime apart. Don’t miss the chemistry and emotional angst between Ethan and Jamie in this explosive duology.
Two murders in two mansions in two weeks—what’s going on in Naples’ most glamorous neighborhood? For cozy mystery fans, Jean Harrington’s Murders by Design series should not be missed. Pick up her newest release, The Design Is Murder, or catch up with Designed for Death, The Monet Murders, Killer Kitchens and Rooms to Die For.
This month we’re thrilled to welcome Edie Harris to our publishing team with Blood Money, her romantic suspense series that follows the lives and loves of a family of spies. In Blamed, A Blood Money Novel, we meet the first of the siblings. Beth Faraday, a former assassin who wants nothing more than to stay retired, finds her new life turning anything but normal when sexy British spy and ghost from her past Raleigh Vick shows up in Chicago, determined to protect her from the bounty that’s been placed on her head.
Coming in December: Leah Braemel caps off her sexy cowboy romance trilogy, new author Caroline Kimberly is back with her sophomore historical romance, Michele Mannon concludes her knock-out MMA trilogy, and so much more!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press (Five years and counting!!)
Dedication
Over most of 2014 I was dealing with some pretty intense chronic health issues. Along with every other part of my life, my writing schedule was knocked hopelessly out of balance.
Though I’m finally recovering, I wanted to take a moment to thank the entire Carina Press team, most notably Angela James, for being so amazingly supportive of me through it all. It was one less thing to be freaked out about and that made a huge difference.
This one is for you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
It had been a while since Rowan had seen so much blood. And considering what her last year or so had looked like, that said a lot.
She took a look at the male who was her father in all ways but genetic. Blood and gore stuck to his skin, matted in his waist-length hair. He had a faraway look on his face, what she could see of it.
Rowan had been dreading this. This inevitable decline into his personal darkness that would take steadfast and at times brutal dedication to see him through to the other side. The time when a few brief periods between the bouts of madness made you thank providence he was just run-of-the-mill insane and dangerous instead of supercharged oh-yeah-th
ose-fairytales-are-really-about-my-dad hair-trigger slaughter-for-kicks sort of insane and dangerous.
Unpredictability in a creature as ancient as Theo was exactly what made him dangerous. There was no rule book. No comparison to be made. He was his own fearsome storm.
And Rowan, ill equipped as she was, still remained one of the very few who could coax him away from the song of his bloodlust.
It didn’t matter whether she wanted it, or that he’d nearly killed her more than once. Like being a Vessel to a goddess, this too was Rowan’s path.
All the sounds in the night around them had cut off. No night birds, no insects. Fear and barely leashed power danced around one another in a way that gave an edge to the urgency of a solution.
There were others nearby. Theo’s staff were far quieter than the two Scions who’d approached. Unable to take her attention away from Theo and risk being seen as prey, she had to hope no one did anything stupid.
But as people doing stupid things she had to risk her hide to save them from was a regular occurrence, Rowan figured she didn’t have long before someone screwed up.
She took a step forward. The moon was nearly full and high overhead so it was easy enough to watch as Theo tipped his head to the side, the movement more birdlike than human.
Brigid, the goddess who inhabited Rowan’s body from time to time, didn’t rush to the surface, but rather filled her from the skin to her bones. Not anger as much as the need to soothe.
Goddess of the forge, yes. Ferocious in battle, absolutely. But Brigid’s magic sought to heal and comfort as well. Theo wasn’t well. It seeped from his pores as he stood in the middle of his fine garden, the oldest and First Vampire looking quite like an extra from a horror flick.
“Did you go out on a hunt tonight, vater?” She called him father to bring him back from the brink, to underline who she was which would also hopefully keep her alive too.
Given the layers of blood and...gunk stiffening his clothing, he’d hunted and eaten and then hunted some more. It said up close and personal revenge—he didn’t kill them in a rage, or get super hungry and feed too long. He ingested his prey. He defeated them on every level and would hack bits up later.
Rowan wished really hard that she hadn’t thought of that.
It wasn’t his usual. Not even his usual slaughter in a rage. The way he killed the people he was wearing said holy mission. And there was only one reason for him to seek that sort of extreme justice—the attack that left Rowan barely clinging to life just two months before.
As for Theo’s field trip? There’d be no evidence found unless Theo wanted it. If he had the presence of mind to remember to cover his tracks.
Things were tense enough within the Vampire Nation that if he made a mistake with this little homicidal breakdown he could be facing a big threat to his leadership.
Gooseflesh rose on her skin as she tuned her focus. Theo’s pupils were enormous and his gaze unfocused. His energy was tense and unsettled instead of dreamy or drunk.
Rowan needed to exert iron will to get her heartbeat under control. If she got upset or he sensed she was scared, things to go sideways again instantly.
At least he’d be a little slower because he was digesting, but he was fast enough to kill every one of them without breaking a sweat.
Without turning around, Rowan spoke to those who were standing behind her. “Send for Nadir and Enzo. Immediately. Someone else get with Dina. She’ll know what to do with the human staff.”
More footsteps, this time retreating quickly, obeying her.
Good.
Theo still had his attention caught between Rowan and whatever movie was playing in his head.
“Rowan, what do you need?” Clive Stewart, the Vampire Scion of North America—and her boyfriend/lover—asked.
Clive was smooth. Elegant and classy in his custom tailored Savile Row suits and hand sewn Italian loafers. The Vampire had handkerchiefs on him at all times! But he could be vicious. Brutal. He was powerful. Strong. Possessive of late.
And for whatever reason, against the laws of nature, she found herself deeply in love with someone who by all rights should have been her enemy.
“We’ll handle this.” Warren Farrelly—yet another motherfucking Scion clogging up her shit when she was already standing in the middle of a mine field—spoke as he inched closer.
That unsettled energy began to sting as Theo made a sound, low in his belly, his gaze shifting from Rowan to Warren and then back to her. It took everything she had not to run and, before a breath or two, She coursed through Rowan’s veins. Power at the ready.
From the corner of Rowan’s eye, she caught sight of the household staff backing up slow, not attracting attention. She wished the two behind her would.
“If either of you gets any closer I will personally set you on fire. Please get the hell away from here until this is stable.” Rowan kept her voice soothing and melodic as she put her body between Theo and the two master Vampires at her back.
Clive touched her shoulder and Theo really didn’t like that. He stepped closer, the stench of death and pain seemed to come off him in waves. The glaze had gone from his eyes. This Theo stared at Warren and Clive, sizing them up. Idly thinking about ripping off arms and legs.
Yanking his attention back, Rowan went to one knee, wrist out. “Vater.” What she’d called him the whole of her childhood, even as he’d given her his lessons that sometimes gave her scars and always ended in blood.
What she’d called him until she’d found out her entire life had been a lie and the Vampire who’d raised her had been the one to order her birth parents killed.
Years after she’d run away and then trained to kill Vampires until she became the best at it, she found herself there on one knee, the mark of service on her wrist exposed to him. Father on her lips, ready to talk him off the ledge.
“I am here. I am well. Do you see?” She spoke in German at first. Taking more of his focus, getting him back to the present. He had to let go of whatever place he’d gone to. Whatever place the seductive song his bloodlust let free transported him to.
Until then, this imbalance would only increase until he erupted again.
The last time Rowan had thrown herself in front of Theo when he’d been overcome by madness and bloodlust, she’d been fourteen years old.
He’d been in a bad way for weeks. Had terrorized everyone, took it out on the staff. One night he’d lunged at someone and she’d stepped between. Begged him to remember them all.
He’d fed on her until she nearly died and left her crumpled on the floor of her room. She’d choked on her blood as he’d toed her to her side before walking away like she was nothing.
So not the time for this little stroll down memory lane.
Theo stepped closer and she tried to breathe through her mouth. He smelled of rot and death, and terror rolled off him in waves as she tried not to drown in the memories of her childhood.
Rowan switched to their old language, something close to Etruscan, she’d discovered recently. “Come inside and have some tea. I’ve returned from Las Vegas.”
He got to his knees then, right in front of her. He took her wrist. “You were away for so very long. They took you. I went to find you.” He spoke around a mouth full of teeth so sharp he could crunch through bone like it was nothing. The very old ones got like this in full bloodlust. It wasn’t just a matter of the incisors lengthening, but of utter destruction via rows of jagged teeth that seemed to burst out. His voice was rusty and yet pointed and full of burrs.
Theo was in there and strong enough to get control again if she could just get him that last little bit. Rowan slowly raised her other hand to cup his cheek. “I am here,” she repeated. “No one’s taken me. You trained me too well for that. You saw me to the airfield when Clive and I left for Las Vegas. Do
you remember that? I told you I’d return. I have.”
He blinked several times. “You’ve come home, Petal.” These words surer and in German. His use of her nickname was a good sign as well.
He frowned, so sad and lost. “For a very long time you did not. You were the only sun I had and then you were gone. It tore a hole in me.” His voice broke as he bent his head.
Rowan let herself love him, flaws and all. With a sigh, she hugged him briefly, pressing her lips to his temple. “I’ll need to leave again. I have a life that’s outside these ramparts. But part of my life is here too. I’ll come back each time.”
Theo shuddered for long moments as the emotions tumbled from him, over her, battering at her control. He let it all go and she had no choice but to reach out again, to touch and offer comfort.
Finally, with one long exhale, he straightened and she let go. When he looked to her again his teeth were back to normal but there darkness still lurked at the edge of his gaze.
The immediate danger had passed, but they were by no means safe, or out of the woods just yet.
A discreet cough to alert her that someone approached. It was her cousin Enzo, Theo’s vassal—his companion, his servant, the person who took care of him and kept an eye on him to be sure he wasn’t veering into coming back after two days covered in entrails territory.
He’d stepped into that place, a place that had been Rowan’s until she’d escaped.
Enzo dropped to one knee next to Rowan, also showing his mark of service. “Ovilius, we’ve been concerned.”
“I believe a cup of tea after a bath might be in order,” Rowan said to Enzo. They needed Theo up and in control.
Enzo used that opportunity to be efficient, to exert some control and said, “Yes. Just the thing. I’ll have Cook make up a tray so you can have a meal and your tea with Rowan after you’re settled.”
The energy around Theo flexed and then unspooled with a graceful sort of menace. Rowan and Enzo remained on their knees until Theo had reached his full height.