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Authors: Sara Humphreys

Vampire Trouble

BOOK: Vampire Trouble
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Copyright © 2014 by Sara Humphreys

Cover and internal design © 2014 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

Cover design by Jamie Warren

Cover photos © imagebroker/Alamy; John Fox/Getty Images

Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

(630) 961-3900

Fax: (630) 961-2168

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For my family…

“When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses.”

—Dr. Joyce Brothers

Chapter 1

The
air
around
him
was
void
of
the
normally
incessant
sound
of
fluttering
human
heartbeats
or
the
typical
noises
of
New
York
City
nightlife. No honking horns. No inane human conversation. Nothing.

For
a
split
second, Shane thought he'd awakened somewhere other than his apartment within the Presidium's New York facility. Standing ramrod straight, fangs bared and senses sharp, he surveyed the empty, hauntingly quiet Manhattan street.

Shane
Quesada
hadn't been blanketed by silence like this in more than four hundred years, not since that fateful summer night so long ago. Though it had been centuries, he still recalled that hot August evening with vivid clarity. The mysterious woman visiting his village seduced him, turned him and then after toying with Shane for a century, Selena left the way she'd found him. Broken and alone.

That
man—the one who wept for the woman who abandoned him—no longer existed, and Shane knew this particular moment was certainly not the time to revisit that period of weakness. Shutting down the unpleasant memory with the cold, calculating demeanor of a vampire sentry, he focused on figuring out where in the hell he was.

As
he
struggled
to
understand
what
was
happening, his hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched. He could see he was standing outside The Coven, the club owned by one of the new czars of New York City, Olivia Hollingsworth. He'd frequented the place most nights over the past several months, but certainly not for the ear-shattering music, the stench of sweating humans, or the undrinkable swill that was served.

Instead, the blond, youngling vampire bartender had captured Shane's interest and drawn him there night after night. Most evenings he wouldn't stay long, only a few minutes before or after his sweeps of the city, but he'd discovered that skipping even one night made him surprisingly agitated. Even if only a moment or two, he simply had to have a glimpse of her. Maya Robertson, the flirtatious beauty who had a penchant for toying with human men, had become both the bane of his existence and the object of his long-dormant desire.

It
had
been
years
since
he
actually
wanted
a
woman
for
more
than
her
blood. However, the moment Shane encountered the curvaceous beauty with the compelling blue eyes, lust gnawed at him. His sudden and instant attraction to the beautiful little vampire was highly unsettling. The nagging, pulsing need for her clawed relentlessly, deep in his gut, and even though he wanted nothing more than to claim her, Shane resisted.

He
had
no
time
for
an
emotional
entanglement, let alone with one of the czar's progeny. Emotions were dangerous and distracting. He was known as one of the finest and most focused sentries within the Presidium's ranks, and he had no interest in losing his position or getting sloppy.

Aside
from
the
fact
that
Maya
was
a
youngling, only turned five years ago, she was reckless. And if there was one thing Shane couldn't abide, it was recklessness. Maya had a fondness for human men, and from what he could tell, she'd taken many of them to her bed. His jaw clenched and anger fired through him at the mere thought of her with another man.

Shaking
his
head, he set his mouth in a tight line and fought to remove the image of her gorgeous oval-shaped face from his mind. Her skin was fair with not a freckle on it, and the only things more alluring than her hourglass figure were her enormous blue eyes. They were almost lavender, and she seemed fully aware of their hypnotic power. Maya might not be able to glamour Shane or any other vampire the way she could a human, but she certainly seemed to have him under her spell.

The
woman
had
become
a
distraction, and in his line of work, things like that could get a vampire dusted. Shane sharpened his focus and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand—where the fuck he was and why the city had suddenly fallen silent.

What
he
found
even
more
perplexing
than
the
unsettling
quiet
was
that
the
world
around
him
was
painted
in
black
and
white. Normally, with the night vision of a vampire, he would see the colorful world in varying shades of sepia tones, but not now. He blinked and turned slowly, surveying the familiar neighborhood, but things remained colorless and mute, as though he'd stepped into a silent film. There wasn't a flicker of color anywhere, and the only sound was from his bare feet as he moved along the sidewalk.

Shane
stopped.

Bare
feet?

He
looked
down
to
find
that
he
wasn't wearing his sentry uniform, only a thin pair of cotton pajama pants. The same ones he'd put on before going to sleep for the day. He held his arms out and looked disapprovingly at his outright state of undress.

Pajamas?

What
the
hell
was
going
on? He would never in his right mind leave his apartment in only his pajamas. As a sentry and well-known soldier for the Presidium, he had made far too many enemies over the years to leave his home unarmed—let alone half-naked.

Shane
stilled
when
the
realization
of
where
he
was
washed
over
him.

A
dream.

He
was
walking
in
the
dreamscape
for
the
first
time
in
almost
four
hundred
years. A smile cracked his face and he ran both hands through his dark, thick hair while looking around in pure awe. The absence of dreams was something he'd grown accustomed to and hadn't particularly missed. When he'd finally stopped dreaming, about ten years after being turned, it was the last step to letting go of his human life.

His
smile
faded
when
the
gravity
of
what
this
might
mean
settled
over
him. Was he ill? Had he been bewitched in some way? Why now, after all this time, would he suddenly begin to dream again?

With
those
unanswered
questions
rattling
through
his
mind, he saw two humans rounding the corner ahead of him. Shane stepped back into the shadows as they approached, but he kept his sights on them. The man had his arm wrapped tightly around the blond woman, who stumbled and was behaving as though she were highly intoxicated. Her hair fell over her face and she was shaking her head, trying to push the man away.

Shane
stilled, uncertain of what to do. Could they see him? Were they merely a part of his dream, or were they sentient dreamwalkers like he was? It became abundantly clear that neither of them could see him when the human male tugged the young woman against him and started kissing her. She pushed him away, telling her aggressor to stop, but her words fell on deaf ears.

She
struggled
harder, which only infuriated the man.
I bought you dinner and fed you drinks all fucking night. We both know where that leads
.

The
brute
spun
the
blond
around
and
tried
to
kiss
her
again, but she continued to refuse.

No,
Shane
heard
her
whimper.
I want to go home.

I don't think so.
The
man
looked
around, certain no one was in sight, and started dragging her into the alley next to the club.
I own your ass.

Fury
shot
up
Shane's back at the increasingly violent scene, and any restraint he felt shattered when he got a glimpse of the woman's face. A pair of terrified and familiar lavender-blue eyes locked with his just before she was dragged into the alley. Maya.

Rage
consumed
him
as
Maya's desperate pleas from one of the darkest corners of the city filled his head. Shane bellowed ferociously and flew out of the shadows toward the tortured cries for help. He tore ahead, expecting to find Maya with her attacker, but the tunnel of darkness seemed to go on forever.

Shane
flew
faster, extended his sonar-like senses in search of Maya and her whimpering calls, but all he found was a limitless void. The tunnel of darkness went on forever, with no end in sight. No sign of Maya, the city, or the bastard who attacked her. Nothing except screams in the dark.

Shane woke with a start and leaped from his bed with Maya's name on his lips. Body tense, senses alert, and eyes wild, he stood motionless in the sparsely furnished but familiar bedroom, attempting to regain his bearings. He was no longer flying through darkness surrounded by Maya's pain but standing alone in his studio apartment and very much awake.

Shane went to the bathroom and switched on the shower, waiting for it to become almost painfully hot. As he stood with his fingers under the steaming streams of water, anger flared at the memory of what he witnessed. Doug Paxton, Olivia's mate and the other Czar of New York, had told Shane that Maya was brutalized on the last night of her human life, but nothing could have prepared Shane for what he saw in the dream. Knowing about it was one thing. Witnessing it and not being able to stop it—well, that was entirely another.

***

The empty glass bottle skittered across the mahogany bar and the beer, slick with condensation, slid easily into Maya's hand. She winked at the handsome, young human male when he slapped down a twenty-dollar bill with black-painted fingernails and a cocky smirk. Maya made quick work of getting him a fresh drink while giving him the coquettish looks she knew he wanted.

Tonight's boy toy was big, studly, arrogant, horny, and not the sharpest tool in the shed. Just the way she liked them. Maya tended to the two other customers at her end of the bar but didn't miss the scolding look from Trixie, the other bartender.

Lay
off, would ya?
Trixie's voice touched Maya's mind with the familiar ease of a fellow coven member. Her coworker glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward Olivia, who was the head of their coven, their maker, and owner of the nightclub. Olivia was making her rounds before closing and like always, she kept one eye on Maya.

You
know
how
much
Olivia
hates
it
when
you
mess
with
the
customers.
Trixie's voice, edged with irritation, filled Maya's head.

Jeez, I'm not a child, Trixie
. Maya's voice touched Trixie's mind with an exasperated sigh, and she rolled her eyes.
Leave
me
alone
and
mind
your
own
business.

Yeah? Then you leave
him
alone.
Trixie kept their telepathic conversation moving while tending the three customers at the other end of the bar.
Come
on, girl. Olivia is gonna fucking flip out if you try to feed on this guy. No more live feeds from any customers at The Coven, remember? Like it or lump it. That's the new rule, and it's not that new. It's been almost six months, so I don't know why you're looking to break it and catch a world of shit.

Yeah?
Maya flipped her long, blond hair over a bare shoulder and shot Trixie a narrow-eyed look.
Well, maybe I'm sick of the rules and having everyone in my business.

BOOK: Vampire Trouble
10.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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