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  Disciples of the Damned

  April M. Reign

  Copyright 2012 by April M. Reign

  Book cover design: Mediamingles.com

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission of the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of this author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Other books by April M. Reign

  The Turning Series: (Book 1 & 2)

  The Mancini Saga: (Book 1 & 2)

  Books coming in 2013

  Dhellia Series

  Disciples of the Damned Series

  Dedication:

  To Agustin Loya, the man behind the idea and my second pair of ears and eyes while creating the Disciples of the Damned world.

  My sincerest appreciation to:

  Agustin Loya, Eve Paludan and my family. I always appreciate your support and encouragement.

  Prologue

  The menacing quiet of the sea at night was the perfect backdrop for a mafia murder and an ancient vampire resurrection.

  A few miles off the Pacific Coast, two men in a small, bobbing boat scuffled with each other and struggled to keep their footing amid the rise and fall of the ocean’s temperamental waves.

  Tonight, someone was going to die and someone was going to live—this duel for power was part of the risky business of making a living on the other side of the law.

  “Don’t! Please!” The pleas of a desperate man were the only sounds that rose above the dense, salty air and the roil of the unforgiving sea.

  His rival did not reply. This chilled him.

  Under the starless sky, the heavyset man with a sweaty forehead and a receding hairline stood on that boat in the middle of the ocean, begging for his life. His body trembled.

  “Don’t do this.” His voice was weak. Fear crept through him like a flesh-eating disease. He’d been in the organized crime business long enough to know when it was his turn—now, when his card had come up and he was face to face with someone he’d thought was a friend, the man now pointed a .45 caliber at his chest. He wanted to live and for that reason, he pleaded for his life, even though he knew it wouldn’t help.

  “Slim, it’s me. You know me. We go way back. Just tell the boss that I’m sorry.”

  Slim nodded, but held the weapon firmly in his professional hit-man hand. He glared with disappointed eyes. “Sorry, man, but you, of all people, know we’re not in the business of granting second chances.”

  “I’ll give back all the money. I’ll transfer it with my phone…look.” He reached his chubby fingers into the pocket of his jacket and whipped out his gun. It was now or never. He could beg and die or kill and live. If nothing else, he was going to try. His chunky fingers made him lethargic. He didn’t stand a chance.

  Slim squeezed the trigger of his gun, shooting the man in the gut. He watched as the man gripped the bludgeoned hole in his stomach and dropped to his knees.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t listen to me,” Slim said, lowering the weapon to his side.

  The wounded man crawled to the edge of the boat and gripped onto the side in an attempt to pull himself up. “Help me, man.”

  “Sure, I’ll help. You dumb motherfucker.” Slim lifted his gun, pulled the trigger and put him out of his misery. Debris from his scalp and brain exploded in all directions. The man slumped halfway over the boat while his blood and brains dripped into the sea.

  “Damn, this was a new shirt.” Slim pushed the body of his dead partner into the murky water, brushed at his shirt and wiped the blood from his face.

  The hemorrhaging body of another crime goon settled to the bottom of the ocean. This time, this body settled next to a chained skeletal figure that had been almost picked clean by sea life and the passage of time.

  The thick blood from the chubby man coated the skeleton in a red cloud. When the blood had dissipated and the water had cleared, the skeleton had regenerated itself into a vampire—and that vampire opened his red, angry eyes.