Selena Blake's Blog, page 2

What’s new with you?

It’s a stormy afternoon here, and I’m getting ready to switch projects for the day. Dinner is in the slow cooker (my favorite kinds of dinner, let’s be honest.) Last week, a sinus infection knocked me on my butt. I’m still recovering. We spent a lazy weekend here putting together puzzles and staying away from the heat.

For those of you glomming for a writing update… I’m working on Liam’s book. (Get notified when it comes out.)

So… What’s new with you?

It occurred to me recently that I have lots of readers that aren’t on social media at all and I should make more of an effort here on my blog. (Shout out to Shirley for always showing up here.)

To be honest, I’ve missed this space. It’s cozy here and safe.

So if you’re one of those folks, I hope this finds you well. I would love it if you’d drop me a comment from time to time, or reach out via email.

Do you like maps of fictional places? Sometimes they’re referred to as fantasy maps? I’ll be back tomorrow to share the map for Mystic Isle!

Until then, happy reading!

Looking for a complete PNR series?

Complete Series!

Start the Stormy Weather Series with The Cajun Werewolf’s Captive. It’s free on most vendors, by the way.

Take a trip down to Louisiana and meet Sebastian Deveraux, the sinfully handsome alpha of the Deveraux pack. Did I mention he’s as wealthy as he is sexy?

Mmm hmmmm…

Wipe your drool and start reading today! http://www.selena-blake.com/bookseries/stormy-weather/

3 – count ’em – 3 new books

(In case you’ve been under a rock…)

For anyone who missed my big news the last six or seven months, I have new PNR available. Let’s go back in time to December 2020. I have a yummy novella for you. Bewitched by His Fated Mate. It’s a free prequel for the Paranormal Protectors series.

Then, in March, book 1 came out. Claiming His Forbidden Witch. Forbidden romance. Brooding werewolf. BBW = Big, beautiful witch.

And then in May, Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss hit shelves. She’s a quirky human hacker, and he’s a telepathic vampire warrior. Sparks are flying in this enemies to lovers paranormal romantic suspense.

See them all: http://www.selena-blake.com/bookserie...

Have you read them all?

450 free books – today only

Today Only! 450+ FREE books to choose from. Including Bewitched by His Fated Mate and Scoring with the Football Star (Gillian Blakely, my contemporary romance alter ego.) Grab them now: https://www.romancebookworms.com/

Where are my puzzle fans?

Where are my puzzle fans at? Mr. Blake and I used to put together puzzles fairly often. I loved the big ones that you could frame. In fact, I had a rotating series of seasonal puzzles.If you love puzzles too, check out this puzzle I created to celebrate the release of Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss: https://puzzel.org/en/jigsaw/play?p=-MZzaVgMQwSICjnMhkAOHappy puzzling!

Chapter Three: Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss

“So, tell me about your witch,” Lexi said, ready to dive into a mystery.

Solving a problem would keep her mind off the big vampire shooting death glares her way. She’d done some wild jobs in her day, but he was a facet she’d never encountered before. There was a quietly banked anger rolling off him, waiting to be unleashed.

“She’s not our witch,” Alistar practically spat the words at her.

There it was. Good thing he wasn’t a dragon; her eyebrows might have gotten singed by that outburst.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her nervousness down. This was in her wheelhouse. She could do this job in her sleep. She just had to stay focused.

“Let me know if you find anything,” Rhyse said, waiting only long enough for her to nod before he strode from the room. The Stigward leader was a man of few words. She appreciated that.

Lexi tucked the proprietary bug searching device into the front pocket of the book bag, and unzipped the larger compartment. She might not have any supernatural gifts, but she always knew when she was being watched.

Glancing up at him, she lifted a brow. Was Alistar seriously just going to stand there and watch like a hawk? Not that there was much he could do. Because if there was, he’d have already done it and not seem so surprised at the idea that someone could have infiltrated the Stigward mansion.

She pulled out her equipment and set it up on the conference table. “Wanna help?”

“That’s your job, human. I’m just here to make sure you don’t fuck up.”

“You don’t trust me much.” It was an observation, and she wasn’t offended. People had all sorts of opinions on people in her line of work, and especially because of her sex.

Her femininity gave her a leg up and she’d use it to her full advantage.

“Nope.”

She pulled one of the phones out and popped off the protective cover, then took the back panel off. Her first step was looking for anything out of place physically. When that didn’t result in anything noticeable, she pulled out a toiletry bag full of wires.

If manufacturers ever settled on a standard connector, it’d make her life so much easier.

“The feeling’s mutual,” she murmured, as she hooked the phone up to her computer. She felt Alistar move closer. His scrutiny made her body tight and her movements sharper than usual. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because she was hyper-aware of him.

“You don’t trust me?” He sounded confused.

“You think I should trust you just because you’re Stigwardian?” She huffed a laugh as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

The truth was, she did trust the Order of the Stigward. But on an individual level, that was a different story. It was a Stigwardian who’d saved her life, but, as he liked to warn her, trust was earned.

“Most people do,” Basil said. Lexi had been so focused on the phone in her hand and the vampire over her shoulder that she’d forgotten the other woman was in the room.

She shot Basil a smile. “I’m not most people.”

“We can see that,” Alistar muttered beneath his breath.

“Who pissed in his goblet this morning?” she asked Basil, who smirked.

Lexi’s software made quick work of the device, checking for rogue programs, phishing correspondence, and a few other things.

“This one’s clean by the way.” She put the phone back together and held it up. Alistar snatched it from her fingers and jammed it into his pocket.

All righty, then.

Trying not to notice how his jeans hugged his glorious thighs, she moved on to the next phone. She’d address any security flaws as she went. Because whether Alistar and Rhyse wanted to admit it, they had a breach in their security.

Or a mole.

Could it be Alistar?

He’d been bristly since the moment they’d met. Good thing Lexi was used to men underestimating her and disliking her because of something she had no control over. It wasn’t like she’d asked for two X chromosomes.

A few minutes later, she held up another phone. “Clean.”

Basil held out her hand. “Thanks.”

Lexi handed it over.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” In the doorway, she paused and glanced back at them. “Try not to kill each other.”

Alistar snorted. “As if she could.”

There he went, underestimating her again.

While the computer looked through the next phone, Lexi glanced at the six flatscreen TVs hanging on the wall. 

Rightfully, the Stigward refused to keep any sort of roster. There was no master list of moody vampires, or melt-in-your-mouth werewolves. There was no Match.com for shapeshifters. No phonebook of immortals.

No one wanted to take a chance that a list like that could fall into the wrong hands.

The problem was, without some sort of roster, it was next to impossible to track such a vast group. Especially when half of said group could shift into an animal or anything else.

She handed over the next phone. One to go, and she’d have to do the rest of the team’s as she saw them.

Alistar immediately skirted the table, handing the butler his phone.

“Thank you. Can I get either of you anything to eat? A sandwich? I have a fresh batch of egg salad ready. Also, turkey and ham.”

Lexi tried to smother her natural grimace at the mention of eggs and meats. Alistar’s stormy eyes were watchful, and she didn’t want to give him any ammunition that would cause any more of a rift.

In her experience, vampires did not understand vegetarians.

“Coffee would be great,” she told Byron, sensing that he wanted something to do. She needed something a little stronger than the water he’d provided. It was late and she might get jittery, but she didn’t think she was going to be getting much sleep tonight.

She was still getting used to having someone serve her, but everyone had a job. And by the way Byron was sharply dressed, available but not hovering, she figured he took his work seriously.

He glanced at Alistar, who gave a terse shake of his head, and then hustled off.

Which left her and Alistar. Alone.

He really was too good looking to be believed.

If all the artists in Europe had tried, they couldn’t have come up with a more gorgeous male face.

And she had a feeling that those black clothes hid a body that would make her drool. So, it was good that he was fully dressed.

She didn’t need distractions. There was too much at stake here.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Lexi suggested.

Alistar’s jaw tensed, and his lips parted ever so slightly. Was he going to argue?

Lexi didn’t care one way or the other who filled her in. She was here for a job, and a moody vampire wasn’t going to stop her.

Make that a gorgeous, moody vampire.

He was well over six feet, and utterly graceful. That was probably the genes. Every vampire she’d ever met was poetry in motion.

“I don’t know what your game is, but I intend to find out.” He braced a palm against the table to the right of her computer and crowded close. His words were menacing, but his tone was seductive.

This was how women got themselves into trouble with vampires, she realized, as the full impact of his supernatural gifts hit her. Some said they were dead. Reborn. Monsters.

But the truth was so much more complex.

She didn’t let herself lean into the circle of his arms, no matter how pulled she felt. But she did turn her face up to his. The deep blue of his eyes was mesmerizing. There was banked curiosity, annoyance, and desire in their depths, in the slight crinkles of his skin, the slant of his brows.

He was so close. Too close.

If she closed an inch and he closed an inch, she’d know what his lips felt like. She’d learn if he had the power to curl her toes.

Truth be told, he was walking, talking sin, so there was no doubt in her mind about his ability to seduce her right out of her panties. Socks too, if she’d been wearing any.

Lexi licked her lips, suddenly feeling parched. Where was that coffee?

She turned her attention back to her computer and tried not to squirm in her seat. He didn’t back away. His attention was still focused on her like a laser. It was the strangest thing, but she felt his gaze like a caress.

She needed to put some space between them, even if it was only mental.

“Well, while you do that, tell me about the witch,” she said, hoping to distract them both.

The final phone was almost done, and though she wasn’t trapped by him, his allure was powerful. She would have to resist him, because giving in wasn’t an option.

He watched her for another long moment, the glow from the screens side-lighting his sharp features in a pale-blue glow.

There was that tick in his jaw again. The guy was going to need dental work if he kept that up.

After another beat of silence, he straightened, clamped his hands over his hips and faced the monitors.

“She called herself Mariah.”

On the top monitor in the middle, there was a blurry side shot of a figure in a dark robe. Long, white hair. 

“Two weeks ago, she murdered a local witch.” He moved over to a tall, rolling table just big enough to hold a keyboard and mouse. He looked completely at ease, in his element as his fingers flew over the keys.

Windows popped up, expanded, slid from one monitor to the next until there was a timeline on the bottom three screens.

He stepped to the left. “Mariah killed Rose Broussard in her home. Rose’s granddaughter was in the kitchen. Saw it happen through a gap in the door. They tried to kidnap the granddaughter, Maddie, but she got away. Rose was able to—” he paused and glanced over his shoulder.

The energy in the room crackled.

“Was able to…” Lexi prompted, rolling her hand in a ‘spit it out’ motion. 

The computer finished searching the final phone, and she quickly disconnected the two and then put the protective case back on.

“This is all information only Stigward members know. Available only to our Rings. And yet, you’re human.”

Lexi let out a sigh. At least he gave a shit about security. That was a start.

But she got a feeling deep in her gut that he didn’t care so much about security as her species. And that grated. To be hated for something she couldn’t change, because of the way she’d been born.

Her annoyance flared, and she flashed him a grin.

“Do we need to call HQ again? Or would you rather see my top-secret security badge?”

Truthfully, she applauded his skepticism. It’d been far too easy to gain access to this house. 

There was the tiniest tug of that sinful mouth that told her he found her comment amusing. He probably hated that because he definitely didn’t like her.

“Is it humans you don’t like? Women? Me in general?”

He didn’t answer, instead, he turned back to the screen. She was deflecting, and he hadn’t taken the bait. Interesting.

“What do you know about telepathy?” he asked.

“I know it sounds like a blast.” Being able to talk to someone without opening her mouth, oh, that could come in handy. Being able to hear thoughts, yes, please. She’d met enough people with the gift that she’d become fascinated and done extra research.

Sign. Her. Up.

“Rose was able to guide Maddie here, to us. With telepathy. Rose passed away shortly after and her powers were transferred to Maddie.” He pointed to a dot on the timeline labeled “transference.”

“So now Maddie’s a target.”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

He pointed to the next dot, which was close to the last one. Attack on Maddie.

“Mariah and her goons sent a shapeshifter to kill her. We’d previously used him as an informant, so nothing seemed off until he pulled out a gun and tried to kill her right there in the foyer.”

He jerked his thumb toward the elegant entryway with its tall ceilings, fancy rug, and brass sconces.

An attack within a Stigward stronghold. That was… “Ballsy.”

“Stupid,” Alistar uttered. “We were all with her.”

“Where is the shapeshifter now?”

“The Council sent for him. I hear he killed himself in their cell.”

Lexi hopped up from the table. “I thought shapeshifters were immortal.”

She paced back and forth in front of the bank of monitors.

“If they aren’t killed, sure.”

“So, he infiltrates. You capture him. He kills himself. Where does the witch come back into the story?”

Because Lexi had heard there was an epic battle.

“Maddie wasn’t raised as a witch. She was human. So, she went to learn about her powers after that.”

“Wait… Back up.” Lexi held her hands in a time-out gesture. “She was human, and you let her in?”

And yet he had problems with Lexi. Did she stink? Granted, the flight from DC hadn’t been too long. 

“Maddie was brought to us by a wolf I trust. A former Stigwardian and ringmate. He vouched for her. We all saw her gain her powers. She was the granddaughter of a good witch.”

Okay, so she was vetted. That was good.

“I thought you said Rose brought Maddie.”

Alistar pinched the bridge of his nose. “She directed her telepathically. Dax was delivering something that day and had just left when she collapsed outside the walls. Dax brought her inside.”

“Your coffee, miss.” Byron placed a silver tray on the conference table, complete with cream and sugar. There was a tall glass filled with a dark liquid and, as she approached the table, she realized what it was.

Her throat tightened.

The glass of blood was the only sign that the man a handful of feet away was not normal. Not human.

She quickly dumped two tablespoons of sugar in the cup of black coffee, gave it a single stir and carried it over to the screens.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as squeamish,” Alistar said, his gaze moving from her to the glass and back.

In most things, Lexi had a stomach of steel. Baby diapers. No problem. Slime. No worries. Blood, guts, and gore? Big problems.

“Vegetarian,” she admitted and watched his dark brows lift.

The truth was, she had a good excuse for her squeamishness.

She blew on her coffee and ignored the sudden stillness in the room.

“I’ll make a note of that,” Byron said after a long pause, and then he left.

It was another full minute before Alistar moved toward the table. She couldn’t stop herself from watching as his long, slender fingers plucked the glass from the tray.

Even as revulsion made her stomach sour, she couldn’t pull her gaze from him, from those sinful lips as he lifted the glass.

He was the one thing she hadn’t anticipated about this job. She’d prepared for distrust, hostility, even apathy.

She hadn’t expected animal magnetism.

Continuing to blow on her coffee, she set about pacing a track back and forth, forcing herself to concentrate on keeping the dark liquid in the cup. Easier said than done.

He stared at her lips and her most erogenous zones warmed, yearning to be stroked.

Resist.

“So, Maddie goes off to learn about her powers. Where?”

“A local paranormal academy. It’s a few hours north of here. Secluded along the Mississippi River.”

She nodded and glanced at the timeline.

“You sent her there without protection? Does the school have guards?”

He nodded. “And Dax went with her. The wolf I mentioned.”

“She gets kidnapped. By Mariah?”

“Mariah’s men. They take her to a warehouse. Dax and Violet, a trainer at the school, were in proximity and gave chase immediately. We tracked Dax’s phone and provided assistance.”

“I’m sure you debriefed Maddie—”

“Of course.” He took another long drink, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed.

Lexi averted her gaze. “Did Mariah give anything away? Clues? Locations?”

He shook his head as he licked his lips.

Stop staring.

Lexi took a sip of her coffee.

“And this is the only photo you managed to get?”

It was blurry to the point of being useless.

“It’s the best shot we’ve got. My footage was corrupted.”

She pivoted toward him. “Seriously?”

That was piss-poor luck.

“Has that ever happened before?”

His jaw tensed again.

“Let me see it.”

He stared her down, indecision written across his handsome face. The longer the pause got, the deeper the sinking feeling in her stomach went. If he refused, she’d have to tell Ksilvanté of her suspicion.

But would he really turn over his buddy’s mate?

That was cold.

But then, so many of the paranormals in the Stigward had ice in their veins. Untouchable. Living only to do their duty. Never letting themselves become a part of a community that believed in harmony at its core.

Breaking her gaze, he stalked over to a tall armoire and pulled open a drawer. His fingers skipped over a tray of small, compact cameras. He plucked a memory card from a slot and handed it over like he was signing his death warrant.

“Thanks,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Moving to her computer, she slid the card into the reader and then fired up some software that would hopefully work its magic.

A handful of tense minutes later, a perfectly usable video played on her screen. She froze on a shot of the white-haired witch.

The woman’s features were tight. Pained, even.

“How’d you do that?” Alistar asked.

“Magic,” she quipped. Not really, but she couldn’t seem to stop her biting comments.

She saved a copy of the video to a thumb drive and moved over to the tall, rolling table. A second later, she had Mariah’s picture splashed across the big screen. And next to it, the video of the fight played on a loop.

“I need to send this to The Council. To the other rings,” Alistar murmured, as he watched the video.

She could do that, but decided he needed to feel in charge again. Stepping aside, she turned her attention to the array of photos he’d organized on the top right screen.

Dirty. Dark. Like a cavern of evil.

Retrieving her coffee cup, she took a greedy sip.

“Who owns the warehouse?” she asked, staring up at the pictures. So much blood. So many bodies. Too much carnage.

The coffee cup wobbled in her fingers, but before it could pitch forward and smash against the hardwood flooring, Alistar was there, gathering the cup in his big, steady hand.

“Easy, little human.”

He sat the cup on the table.

Lexi took a deep breath. She couldn’t have a panic attack. Not now.

“You didn’t think to check that?” she asked, needing something to focus on other than the seasick butterflies in her stomach.

That rocked him back on his heels.

She recognized that for a moment he’d broken through his distrust to be kind. That gentleness would be her lifeline if she let it.

She couldn’t let herself, couldn’t trust him.

Fighting the tension in her neck, the tightness in her throat, she moved to the keyboard and started typing.

A few minutes later she’d pulled up the deed. “A holding company. Figures.”

“See what else they own.”

Bossy, bossy. But his voice, the firm tone, calmed the anxiety.

Then again, she’d been trying to put distance between them. His closeness made her focus on things like his lips, those long, elegant fingers, his sheer size. He dwarfed her, made her feel small and feminine and all the things she couldn’t afford to feel.

A little more digging and they had a list.

She wrote a quick script to pinpoint the locations on a map. When she looked up, he was completely still, watching her, his head cocked to the side as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“What?”

“You’re good at this.”

“Yep.” She didn’t demure. There was no point. She was good at this. Maybe not much else, maybe not normal things, but she understood computers, and she knew how to use them to her advantage.

He stepped forward, his attention shifting to the map on the top right screen. He was so tall; he didn’t have to crane his neck to check out all the pinpoints.

“Any of those in the area?” she asked, looking for the warehouse. “Would she stay close by?”

It’d been five, almost six days. She could be halfway around the world by now. But perhaps there was unfinished business.

“It’s worth a look.”

A crash sounded from the back of the house, startling her. Alistar immediately moved to the doorway, peering down the hall.

Curiosity won out, and she followed him.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured.

No problem. She didn’t want to be the first to find out whatever had gone bump in the night. Sometimes, coming in second was A-okay.

Her lips twitched at the thought.

Alistar moved toward the rear of the house like a panther. Strong, silent, carefully stalking his prey.

When he eased into the kitchen, his shoulders relaxed. “Everything okay?” he asked.

She stopped next to him and found Byron picking up a tray’s worth of dishes.

“I am. Tripped over the rug.” He nodded to the small vintage runner next to the kitchen island.

Lexi closed the few steps between them and stooped to help him pick up the cups and saucers.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” he said.

She placed a small stack of plates on the tray. While she knew little about fine china, even she could tell that some pieces were old and finely made. A teacup lay in pieces.

“Bummer,” she said. She loved a good cup of tea, especially if it was in a fancy cup older than she was. She often wondered about who’d owned the piece before. What was their story? Who had they served tea to? Who’d held the delicate handle between their fingers, and what secrets had they shared?

“Thanks.” Byron took the handle and cup from her.

“No problem.”

He lifted the tray and placed it on the island.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Alistar said.

He hadn’t moved; in fact, he still had his hands clamped over his lean hips.

Ignore him, she told herself, then stepped around him and headed back down the hall.

She smelled an arrangement of fresh flowers on an antique table in the foyer. The Stigward certainly spared no expense in keeping their warriors happy and comfortable. But then again, they had important jobs to do and needed to focus.

Was that why Alistar had seemed so annoyed when Rhyse volunteered him to help her? Some Stigwardians she knew were so into their work that any change of pace was met with severe resistance. As stewards of the paranormal world, they rightfully took their job seriously.

Alistar sauntered into the conference room and stopped in front of the map of the holding properties.

“There are five within an hour’s drive.” He waved his hand in a circle around the map. “The warehouse is farther out.”

“There’s something over there in Mississippi.” She zoomed in and switched the map type to a show a satellite image of the area.

“Another warehouse?”

“Let me see if I can pull up a shot from street level.”

The street view didn’t help much. There was a berm, overgrown bushes, a broken fence.

“Looks abandoned,” Alistar said, hands on his hips again.

“Do you think it’s worth checking out?”

“All leads are worth checking. You never know which will bear fruit.”

Interesting. He hadn’t struck her as the philosophical type.

“Make a note of the addresses. Liam and Basil can check out a few of these closer ones.”

She pulled the addresses and compiled them into a file.

“Bring the list,” he said, heading for the door.

“I’m going with you?” she chirped.

She was supposed to be doing research, not going on field trips. Quickly, she sent the addresses to her phone and then scrambled after him, grabbing her stuff on the way.

As she slid her phone into her back pocket, he spun back. Towering over her, he was entirely in her space.

“Yes. You’re going. If you think I’m going to leave you here to snoop around, you’re mistaken.”

“I’m not going to snoop.”

“You’re right. You’re not. Byron has things to do. He can’t keep an eye on you.”

“You make me sound like a criminal.”

“Aren’t you? Hacker?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“And whose idea was that?”

Well, he had her there. And the smirk gracing his handsome face said he knew it.

“Saddle up.”

Two words spoken in an almost-whisper. The intimacy, the way he stood so close, staring at her as if he was about to unravel all her secrets made her flush with heat. Or maybe he was waiting for her to back down, tuck tail and run.

Gore brought back memories she’d rather not think of. Blood made her stomach quiver. But she wasn’t a coward, and she’d prove it.

She hefted her pack and followed him through the house, down another corridor, and into a garage. He strode up to a mammoth black SUV, and it blinked as it unlocked.

Lexi was shocked that he bothered to open the passenger side door for her. He was a master of playing hot-and-cold.

She’d just tucked her bag into the space beneath the dashboard when she felt him move closer.

“For the record,” he said, his voice low, dripping with temptation. She turned to find him trapping her between the cab and his big body. “I adore women.”

His words hung in the humid air like a challenge. Her body responded immediately; everything soft and feminine inside her clenched with need.

But his declaration also brought her back to her earlier question about why he didn’t trust her. If he adored women, it was humans, or her in particular, he didn’t like. Which left so many questions. She wouldn’t, couldn’t give voice to them.

Especially when he was looking at her like he wanted to do more than adore her. Nibble on her, maybe.

She felt his gaze on her lips like a caress. Soft, light, barely there. Despite the barbs he tossed her way, he had the most kissable lips and the urge to stretch up and find out what they felt like was strong.

So strong.

Down, girl.

“Good to know,” she quipped lightly, and hauled her fanny into the massive, jet-black vehicle.

He snickered and shut her door. It was like he knew what she’d been thinking.

She watched him circle the hood, all confident swagger. Her skin heated to where she was sure she’d somehow gotten a sunburn in the last five minutes. Why was he able to turn her on in ways no other man ever had?

Scratch that.

She didn’t want to know. Couldn’t examine it. If she could focus on the fact that he clearly detested her and could, quite possibly, be the mole within the Stigward, she could keep her head.

She could keep some space between them.

He climbed behind the wheel and hit a button that opened the garage door.

Each movement was so smooth, so practiced that she realized she was watching him in his element. Standard operating procedure.

She, on the other hand, was not in her element anymore, and wished she was back at the table, behind her laptop.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled, as the vehicle rolled forward. “We shouldn’t find too many dead bodies.”

Grab your copy

Chapter Two: Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss

 

Chapter Two

Alistar’s fangs itched with annoyance.

They’d just run out of time.

Normally, Byron, the butler, would answer the door, but he didn’t appear from the foyer as he usually did. In his absence, Basil stepped over to the small screen just inside the rally room door.

Alistar moved to look over her shoulder. A woman with short, dark hair stared up at the camera, brows raised, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Can I help you?” Basil asked, his finger on the call button.

“I’m Lexi.”

“Sounds like she made it,” the woman on the other end of the phone said.

She?

“What the hell?” Alistar said. “I’ve never heard of a helper.”

And a female hacker? Those were rare. Like red diamonds.

“We need a new ring member,” Rhyse stressed to the woman on the phone. His tone was hard, imploring.

“She’s been briefed on the situation. She has some ideas of how to track your witch.”

“She’s not our witch,” Basil muttered, sauntering toward the front door.

What was happening? Alistar wanted to rewind the clock, go back to before this chaos. It was wrong. Didn’t sit right.

Each Stigward Ring was made of seven members. Six guardians and one butler who ran their house and life like clockwork. Diversity and support were key elements in the Stigward credo.

With Pascal gone, they needed a new teammate, not a Brainiac Barbie.

“What are you doing?” Alistar asked, on alert, as Basil reached for the front doorknob. It was after nightfall, so the light sensored latches were unlocked, but still…

“Going to meet our helper.” Basil drew her shoulders back and shot him a smirk that said it should be obvious. She might as well have patted him on the head like a child.

Alistar’s jaw hardened.

“Tell Ksilvanté I need more information about this supposed helper before I let her into the house,” Rhyse said into the speakerphone. If he was as confused by this as Alistar, he didn’t show it.

No, the hybrid was eerily calm, and completely in charge.

“Alistar,” Rhyse said, hitting the mute button on the console, “go see what you can find out about our new friend.”

Read her mind, he meant.

Gladly, Alistar sent the thought.

* * *

Alistar strode down the walkway behind Basil. The two guard dogs that kept watch over the front of the lot trotted along beside them.

The New Orleans Stigward house was in the heart of the Garden District, surrounded by a maze of shrubbery and carefully manicured trees. Byron kept the yards in tip-top condition, and the lush foliage stopped traffic.

He and Basil paused at the gate. The woman on the other side gave them each a once-over, and a small wave. Unlike many, she didn’t seem perplexed by Alistar’s height or unnatural beauty.

Most women stared. Many slipped him their number. Others shoved their undergarments in his pockets. He didn’t understand women these days.

He had to give this one credit though. She didn’t seem fixated, or even fascinated by him. And she didn’t bat an eyelash at Basil’s unique hair.

He reached out, listening to her thoughts. Her mind was a whirlwind, moving so fast he couldn’t follow. Just words and phrases, like a crossword puzzle spun up in a tornado.

On the outside she seemed perfectly calm, incredibly normal, and yet… She was stunningly beautiful. She tried to hide it beneath bangs and glasses, but there was no hiding such perfect skin, or such full, kissable lips.

An inch or two taller than Basil, Lexi had a lean athletic figure. Flip-flops graced her feet, dark jeans hugged her thighs, and a spaghetti-strap tank clung to her torso.

A headwind blew her hair back from her face, revealing her gorgeous neck. The sight of her creamy skin, so smooth and vulnerable hit him harder than a kick to the gut.

For the first time in a very long time, Alistar wanted to sink his fangs into the source. He wanted to feel her in his arms, her warmth cascading over his tongue, the hum of her pulse beneath his lips.

Would she fight him or welcome his embrace?

He took a deep breath, trying a different sense to figure her out. Strong heartbeat, but he couldn’t catch her scent. She didn’t strike him as a wolf, though her arms and shoulders looked strong. He watched for tell-tale fangs.

“I’m Basil, and this is Alistar.”

The woman nodded, her gaze swerving up the street for a moment before returning to them.

Who was she watching for?

Or perhaps she was naturally cautious.

Being hunted for generations would do that to you, he could attest.

“I’m Lexi, but you already knew that.” She lifted her gaze to Alistar and something about the way the corner of her mouth lifted put him on edge.

All they knew was her name, and that she was apparently a whiz with computers.

What exactly did she know?

Was it possible that she’d been briefed on them even though they hadn’t been briefed on her?

This whole situation was getting stranger by the moment.

She glanced up at the camera and back to them. “Are we going to get the show on the road?”

She seemed somehow eager, and yet completely at ease. A walking contradiction.

Alistar hated that.

“We’re just waiting for a few things to check out. You understand.” Basil laced her fingers, striking a casual pose.

She had more patience than he did.

“They said you’re a hacker.”

Lexi’s gaze snapped to Alistar’s. “Announce it to the whole city, why don’t you?”

She glanced up and down the street and over her shoulder. For the first time, she seemed nervous.

The breeze shifted, hitting the woman square in the back. She rocked forward on her toes, and that was when it hit him.

The thing that had been bugging him. Basil seemed to realize it at the same second.

Even from inside the walls of the Stigward house, his gut had told him something was off. Not quite right.

“You’re human,” Alistar said softly, ever aware of the Garden District’s close quarters. There were some things you didn’t want the neighbors overhearing.

Lexi stepped closer, closing her hands around the gate’s iron bars. Big, brown eyes full of mirth and intelligence. And that mouth…why couldn’t he stop staring at it?

“And you are a vampire,” she whispered, her words disappearing on the breeze.

There was something about the way she said the word vampire that made him think of long evenings of slow sex. Claiming her lips in lingering kisses. Fisting his hands into those chocolate locks. Drinking from her graceful neck. Being wrapped in her arms while he drilled into her tight heat.

“And I’m a hybrid. Woo-hoo,” Basil sing-songed.

Lexi didn’t break eye contact, and he had a feeling she was testing him. Why, he didn’t have the first clue.

But she barely blinked, and her lips were parted ever so slightly. Why couldn’t he stop looking at them?

Why couldn’t he stop wondering what they’d taste like?

And why couldn’t he hear her thoughts in his head?

Alistar took a step back, and realized instantly that he’d made a mistake.

If this had been a staring contest, he’d just blinked.

Lexi sent Basil a victorious grin.

Dammit, if she wasn’t sassy as hell. Not at all intimidated.

“What kind of hybrid?” Her voice was so sweet and conversational.

“Wolf. Vamp.”

“Nice. Fangs and claws. So. You’re second in command, huh?”

Alistar’s mind hit the brakes. How the hell did she know that?

As if he’d spoken out loud, Lexi shrugged. “Ksilvanté filled me in.”

She knew the leader of The Order of the Stigward? Personally?

“But you’re human.” Alistar couldn’t help but point out the obvious. There were rules about humans in a Stigward house.

What else had Ksilvanté told her?

“Obviously.” Lexi’s gaze darted from him, back to Basil. “Is he always so observant?”

“Always.”

Lexi let go of the bars. “Did you know New Orleans was the first city in the United States to host an opera?”

His jaw dropped low enough to let in a whole houseful of flies. He snapped his lips closed and turned on his heel. Someone was playing a joke on them.

He marched back into the house, and found Rhyse leaning against the conference table, arms crossed over his massive chest. His left brow made a quick up and down motion, as if to say, ‘give me the deets.’

“Nothing. It’s like a hurricane in there,” he said referring to the human’s chaotic thoughts.

“Hmm.” Rhyse lowered his gaze and rubbed a hand over his cheek, down to his chin and back up, lost in thought.

“I don’t get it. It’s not that I doubt her because she’s a woman. It’s—”

“She’s human,” Rhyse inserted.

“That.” Alistar practically spat the word as he threw out a finger for emphasis.

“And?”

Alistar sighed, hands closing over his hips. “I don’t trust her. I don’t trust this whole mess. Why don’t we have a sixth? I know it’s only been a week, but surely, they could find someone at The Castle that would work. Or promote Byron. He’s ready.”

That wasn’t the way the Stigward worked, and he knew it. Byron would leave here in a few months’ time and return to the Castle, where he’d finish his training before being placed in a Stigward team.

Rhyse reached behind him and slid a folder across the table. “Her file.”

“I thought she didn’t have one. She’s a helper.” The sarcastic comment rolled off his tongue as he picked up the paper.

“She checks out, Alistar. Whether you like it or not.”

His fangs lengthened in annoyance. There was more information on a drugstore receipt than on this woman’s file.

“Still don’t like it.”

Rhyse nodded, then stepped over to the console by the door. He jabbed a button that opened the front gate. Alistar watched, as Lexi picked up her suitcase and stepped forward. The dogs gave her a quick once-over, and she held a hand out to them. They accepted her and a scratch behind the ears.

Traitors.

He didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Basil escorted their guest up the walkway.

“Just do your job,” Rhyse said quietly, not unkindly. “You can set your hatred aside long enough to catch the witch who killed Pascal. Can’t you?”

Alistar grunted.

Rhyse was Mr. Calm, Cool & Collected. He was famous for it.

Alistar’s lips twisted into a sound of agreement.

Besides, Rhyse’s voice hummed through his mind. What’s not to like?

Alistar had never had reason to believe that Rhyse had broken his vow of celibacy, but the way the big man watched the human gave him pause.

And it wasn’t because Alistar’s own blood heated when he looked at her.

No way.

Basil and Lexi paused atop the antique rug in the foyer.

She stared up at the ceiling, peeked into the parlor, and then pivoted toward the rally room. Toward Alistar.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a device and a set of headphones. After hooking them around her neck, she dropped the backpack inside the door.

“Rhyse?” she asked, glancing at their leader.

Rhyse nodded. “You come highly recommended.”

Again, with the shrug. Was it false modesty? “I just know my way around a computer. That’s all.”

Alistar heard footsteps and saw Byron rushing toward them, smoothing his suit jacket.

Lexi turned to Byron. “And Byron.”

The butler gave a quick nod and Alistar heard the man’s heart rate increase.

Great. So, they’d all have a case of blue balls, and the white witch would never be found. Justice would never be served, and whatever game the witch was playing, she’d win because they were too distracted by a human.

“Would you care to see your room?” Byron asked. Though it’s what he would have said to anyone, his eyes lingered longer than necessary or normal.

What was it about the human?

She moved around the foyer, slow and casual. But those eyes were constantly moving, scanning the paintings, even the walls. She pointed the device in her upturned palm at everything she passed, and he cocked his head, trying to figure out what her game was.

“Nope. I’m good to get started, if you guys are.” She quirked a brow at Rhyse and Basil.

“I’ll get some refreshments. If you need anything, please let me know,” Byron said, his gaze locked on Lexi and then disappeared down the hall.

Lexi stepped into the rally room and paused, giving the room a long, careful perusal.

She bent at the waist and looked under the conference table.

“What are you looking for?” Alistar couldn’t help but ask. This was the most secure room in the house.

Straightening, she didn’t answer or acknowledge him. Pausing in front of the bank of monitors on the wall, she stared at the map pinpointing missing witches. Known abductions. Sightings of the white-haired witch.

Then the dossier they’d compiled. Such as it was.

The file they’d put together on their current prisoner.

They needed more information. Or maybe they needed magic. To fight fire with fire, so to speak.

Though he thought the chances of Mariah coming after Maddie again were slim, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. For as much as Maddie told them about the conversation she’d had with the witch during her capture, there were no clues as to Mariah’s ultimate plan.

Why did she need other witches?

Lexi circled the room, squatted in front of the fireplace. A moment later she was completing her circuit.

“Did you know the first known computer bug was a moth?” Lexi asked, as she stared at the photos from the warehouse. Then she moved down the length of the room, inspecting everything.

When no one said anything, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just a little trivia for you.”

“Why exactly are you here?” Alistar demanded.

She flicked her gaze from Alistar to his phone on the conference table and then her gaze swept Rhyse and Basil.

They’ll listen.

Alistar heard the words even though he was positive she hadn’t spoken them out loud. He focused on her face, trying to make sense of the rapid-fire thoughts.

Listening.

“Who’s listening?” he asked.

Her eyes went wide, and her brows lifted until they were hidden by her bangs.

…talking out loud again?

Lexi shook her head slowly, long, emphatic sweeps of her head.

Her gaze skimmed the room.

“What are you looking for?”

“Laptops. Computers. Where’s your server closet?”

Alistar frowned, but Rhyse pointed to a small closet at the end of the room.

Striding around the conference table, she pulled back one of the rolling chairs and then climbed onto the large, gleaming slab of wood.

Flipping over the conference phone, she unplugged all the wires.

“Rhyse, would you hand me my bag, please?”

Their leader hoisted her backpack and the human shot him a smile of thanks.

Alistar rolled his eyes and Basil snorted, an amused smirk pulling her lips.

Byron returned with a tray of drinks and placed them on the table.

Lexi unzipped the main pocket and pulled out a long, black pouch. Scooting across the table she scooped up Rhyse’s phone and plunked it into the bag.

“Hey—” he started, but she hopped off the table and approached Byron.

With the pouch open, she made a show of putting her cell phone inside.

“Phones in the bag.”

Byron retrieved his from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it over. Lexi moved to Basil next.

“Uh—” Basil glanced toward Alistar, obviously unsure of what was happening.

“A Faraday bag?” he asked, and Lexi gave him the most ‘no duh’ expression he’d ever seen.

Sassy little brainiac.

He nodded to Basil and she pulled her phone from the side pocket of her yoga pants.

Which left him.

“What’s a Faraday bag?” Rhyse asked.

“What is a Faraday bag, Alistar?” Lexi asked, her tone full of sarcasm.

He sighed and put his phone in the bag with the others. “It shields against signals. Incoming. Outgoing.”

He ground his jaws together.

She closed the bag and placed it in the middle of the conference table. Then she hopped up, plunking that tight, little, jean-covered ass down. Her legs swung back and forth, flip-flops dangling.

“Back to your question, Rhyse. I know he’s a vampire,” she said, nodding her head at Alistar. “She’s a hybrid, and you’re a…” she paused. The effect was dramatic, and Alistar was instantly jealous of the way she raked her gaze over Rhyse’s tall frame.

Of all the ridiculous… He had zero reason to be jealous, and yet, that was the only explanation for the way his fangs lengthened, and everything in him went on alert.

“Hybrid.”

Rhyse inclined his head in that regal way of his. Alistar almost rolled his eyes again. Too bad the leader of a Stigward ring had to take a vow of celibacy. Women the world over were mourning the loss, he was sure.

Alistar was firm in his desire for women, but even he knew a good-looking guy when he saw one. And Rhyse was a hell of a good-looking guy.

“And you’re—” She let the words dangle as she regarded Byron. “A shifter. Wolf?”

He inclined his head.

“And I’m Lexi. What I know is that you have security issues, you’re hunting a bad witch, and you need my help. Does that about sum it up?”

“Now, wait a minute—” Alistar began, his shoulders coming down and back.

Rhyse silenced him with a hand.

“What do you mean, security issues?”

She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, but it burrowed under Alistar’s last nerve. “I checked for bugs, so you’re good there. But if I were you, I’d check all your phones and computers. Someone has to be hearing your conversations. She’s been a step ahead of you, right?” She waved to the Faraday bag. “And you were ready to talk details while anyone and their grandpa could have been listening in.”

Alistar’s jaw dropped a fraction.

The room went utterly silent, and Basil looked back and forth between Lexi and Alistar.

Obviously sensing the tension, Lexi glanced over her naked shoulder and pegged him with a look. “What? You don’t think there could be bugs planted in here? You don’t want DPS to know your secrets, do you?” A stream of technobabble erupted from her lips. She sauntered over to the computer closet and squeezed in with the machines.

He squinted at her. “What are you doing now?”

And why did everything about her leave him so…exasperated?

“Making sure the microphone on these computers isn’t actually turned on. Shouldn’t be, but you never know.”

“You think we were hacked?”

Again, with the shrug. “Or someone could have messed with your equipment.”

His mind immediately went to his bodycam. Had someone messed with it? Was that why the data was corrupted?

She didn’t know it, but she’d just thrown a bucket of ice water over his head. Betrayal from within was something no Stigwardian wanted to consider.

“This all checks out.”

He practically grunted in response. Of course, it checked out. They didn’t have a security problem.

She stepped from the closet and closed the door. Then she turned her attention on Rhyse. “With your permission, I’ll double-check everyone’s phone and laptop. If there’s any sort of listening device or key reader, I’ll find it.”

He opened his mouth to object, but felt Rhyse’s silent headshake. Imperceptible to those who didn’t live as he did, connected to those around him on another plane.

He snapped his lips closed.

Who did she think she was, popping in here out of the blue and poking her nose where it didn’t belong? Her level of confidence was staggering. And kind of sexy.

The room was so quiet at the idea of a stranger snooping, she might as well be offering rectal exams. No one was rushing to be first in line.

Finally, Rhyse spoke.

“Alistar will help you.”

“I will?”

…hottie looking over my shoulder…

Lexi’s words whispered through his mind, and he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged his lips. So, she thought he was hot, huh? Maybe he could use that to his advantage and find out what her game was. Because no matter how much Brainiac Barbie turned him on, he didn’t trust her.

“Of course,” Lexi replied, picking up her bookbag. “Try to keep up.”

Basil laughed. “Oh, I like her. You’ve met your match, Alistar.”

That was what he was worried about.

 

Grab your copy

Chapter One of Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss

Grab your copy

CHAPTER ONE

Five days had passed, and he could still feel the soft fabric slipping through his fingers.

Alistar Kostas braced a hand against the wooden mantle as he stared into the fire. He saw through the flames, past them, to the moment he’d had his hands on the white-haired witch.

Mariah.

She’d killed his teammate that day.

Had almost killed his best friend’s mate, Maddie Broussard.

And dammit if she hadn’t gotten away.

One second, he’d had a hold of her, and the next she’d dislodged his grip, whirling into the smoke, chaos, and darkness.

Alistar was old enough, experienced enough, to know that sometimes you didn’t get your man.

Or woman, as it were.

But in this case, he couldn’t help but think he’d fucked up somehow. The whole Ring had been on the hunt ever since, but she’d vanished. She’d been prepared with an escape plan.

“Staring at that fire isn’t going to fix anything,” Basil’s voice carried across the room.

He felt the energy in the room shift, heard the steady thump of her heartbeat as she approached.

“I know.” Knowing, however, didn’t mean he was going to stop replaying that night over and over in his mind.

Very few things haunted him. Mostly because there was so much material that could torture him if he let it; he’d become a master at burying memories. Locking down his emotions. Compartmentalizing.

It was what made him lethal.

“I know it doesn’t happen to you very often, but sometimes you don’t win,” she said, compassion and understanding lacing her tone. Her words wrapped around him like a balm, and he appreciated that she didn’t pile onto his guilt.

Alistar pushed away from the fireplace.

The truth was hard to swallow sometimes.

Basil, as usual, was perched on the arm of one of the leather sofas that flanked the fireplace in the Rally room. Her clingy yoga pants and black tank top showed off her lean body. Dark lashes framed blue eyes that held the same frustration and determination he saw in the rest of the team.

“Any word yet on Pascal’s—” He bit off the words. There was no replacing a team member. They’d get a new one to round out their Ring. But no one would ever replace him. “Our new teammate?”

Basil watched him for another second before shaking her head.

She was too perceptive. Always looking beneath the obvious, ferreting out the truth.

He really needed her to stop looking at him like she was figuring out all his secrets. As it was, he took extra shifts. Worked out at all hours. Trained in their state-of-the-art simulator. Rarely joined anyone for meals.

He let his fellow guardians think it was because he was looking for the white-haired witch. That was mostly true. But not entirely.

He tried his hardest to not close his eyes. Sleep only led to dreaming of her. An elusive beauty. Except he’d never actually seen her face. He didn’t have to. 

She had the most amazing hands. Soft but strong, capable. Hands that tortured him over and over, leaving him teetering on the edge of extasy night after night.

A graceful neck that called to his lips. In his dreams, his body knew hers. Intimately. For the last week, he’d dreamt of her every day, but he was never fulfilled.

The phantom touches were driving him mad.

He hated dividing his focus, especially when the white-haired witch was so dangerous. Who knew where she’d pop up again? Or when.

Now, he was running on fumes.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” she said, combing her fingers through her short hair, mussing the lime-green streaks. They’d all been waiting for word from The Council of Elders about their sixth.

Unfortunately, trouble in New Orleans wasn’t the only problem on The Council’s radar.

Alistar took a seat opposite her and rested his forearms on his knees. Steepling his fingers, he stared at one of the tufted buttons on the other sofa.

“You’re scheduled to go to the Castle next week, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Which meant there wasn’t much time to help the team come up with leads.

“Maybe Vivitara will know something about our new ringmate. Perhaps the Council has been in contact with her.”

Like Basil, Vivitara was gifted with foresight. The leader of the Stigward academy was legendary. Sometimes her visions were so spot-on, it was like she’d visited the future.

Vivitara also benefited from insider information. The brunette bombshell had a direct line to the Council of Elders; was a key member of their decision making.

And since she trained every recruit, she knew them all by name. She’d have someone in mind to fill Pascal’s shoes.

Hopefully, whomever they sent would be easier to get along with. But more importantly, they needed someone soon. Without a member of their team, dynamics and schedules were off. And it was starting to wear on everyone.

 “Have you figured out how Mariah found Maddie’s location?” Basil asked, her voice soft, as if she didn’t want to irritate him further.

Alistar’s jaw clenched.

That was another dagger in his side. Even as they’d been on the chopper on their way to the warehouse where Maddie had been held, he’d been trying to figure it out.

The puzzle pieces didn’t fit.

Dax had taken Maddie upstate to a remote academy for paranormal students. Maddie was a newly minted witch, needing to learn how to wield her powers. And somehow, Mariah and her disciples had found the location and kidnapped Maddie.

“How’d you know?” he asked. He hadn’t mentioned his ongoing curiosity to the team because they were all neck deep in the hunt. Finding Mariah was more important than figuring out how she’d found Maddie.

He had no leads, and only his gut telling him that things didn’t add up.

Basil tipped her head back and laughed. “You forget we’ve been on the same team for years. I know when something’s bothering you.”

She slipped down onto the sofa cushion.

“It’s been bothering me too,” she added. “But with everything else going on—”

The whole team was running on empty.  Keeping the peace in a city as large and paranormally diverse as New Orleans was hard enough. Adding chasing every clue that came their way about the white-haired witch was insanity.

Still, he tried to find a bright side.

“We got Maddie back. I’m glad about that. She and Dax are in honeymoon mode. But—”

“It never should have happened,” Basil filled in.

Alistar nodded.

It’d been a long week since they’d stormed that abandoned warehouse north of New Orleans. Mariah, a demented witch, had kidnapped and held Maddie, the granddaughter of City Councilwoman Broussard. A white witch. A good witch.

Days before, Mariah had murdered the councilwoman in her own home, in front of Maddie.

And Alistar had had her in his grasp. He’d been a second away from binding her powers and locking her up.

His hands balled into fists.

“I never thought I’d miss his pretentious, uptight ass,” Basil said, filling the silence.

Alistar nodded once.

Without Pascal’s abrasive personality, there was a lot less tension in the Stigward house these days, but he was starting to think that their teammate and his peculiarities had kept them on their toes.

Exacting standards could do that.

Regardless, he’d been a brother to them. An invaluable member of their team, and his loss was glaring.

“Any luck on your latest search?”

Alistar sighed and rose to his feet. He stepped over to the bank of monitors on the wall. A tall, rolling table held the wireless keyboard and mouse.

Despite his current desire to fully integrate modern technology with the Stigward, the Council was understandably reluctant. He didn’t want a list of vampires, werewolves, and others available for the taking any more than they did.

DPS would have a field day with such a record. Hell, it’d do their job for them. The Department of Paranormal Studies spent a large portion of their time trying to locate paranormals so they could use them as lab rats. Removing that barrier would be…

Alistar shuddered at the thought.

But as it was, the lack of database meant Alistar’s job was harder. The feed from his body cam had gotten corrupted during the transfer. And no one else’s had gotten a useable photo.

Finding one witch out of billions of people, with nothing more than a first name and an image in his head, had never been so tough.

He’d have better luck finding a designated driver on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras.

“We’re going to find her,” Alistar said. There was no doubt in his mind. He just might need a minor miracle.

“I wish we’d been able to get more out of the shifter,” Basil said, glancing toward the back of the house where the holding cells were. The Council of Elders had sent for the shapeshifter, a former informant, who’d strolled right into the Stigward stronghold and tried to shoot Maddie. “If I’d had more time, I could have found the right pressure point.”

Alistar gave a low growl of agreement. Ordinarily, the lone female member of the team was exceptional at getting the facts out of captives. The shape-shifter wasn’t their only card to play, though.

“That bloody human,” Alistar muttered. During their battle at the warehouse, they’d captured one of Mariah’s henchmen, which was something, at least. If they couldn’t have the white-haired witch, at least they had one of her underlings.

Much to Alistar’s frustration, the human hadn’t said a word.

It was true that Alistar had lost respect for humans around the time he’d become a vampire. They’d never helped him. They’d tortured him.

They could all drop dead as far as he was concerned…except for the fact that he needed their blood to survive.

“I can’t believe I can’t break him,” Basil mused, sounding thoughtful and far away. “It’s got to be a record.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t take one look at you and trip over himself to tell us everything.”

Basil’s lips quirked to the side. She knew she was gorgeous, in a badass-pixie sort of way. Men lost their minds over her, but she always let them down gently. Unless they deserved otherwise.

And to her credit, she didn’t use her looks as a weapon.

There were plenty of men, and lots of women, in this world that would happily spill their guts to the blue-eyed beauty.

Even with her spiky, green hair, there was a charm about her. A graciousness that disarmed people.

Except for the man in their cell.

“He must be gay, or infatuated with the witch.”

“Or he’s just had training,” Basil said, as she strode over to the wall of screens.

He had maps, lists, photos. And none of it was adding up. They needed a new perspective as much as they needed new information about Mariah.

The problem was, Alistar was too in his head. Too entrenched in what had happened that night, and he’d memorized all the information on the screens.

Basil glanced at the clock centered over the monitors, the numbers glowing red.

“You need to bounce. Get out of here. Go out with the guys. Get laid. Something.”

“I need to catch her,” he pointed to the blurry, chest-cam photo. The best shot anyone’s camera had gotten before she’d slipped through his fucking fingers.

Basil sighed. He heard her frustration and knew that she was as stressed as he. More so because Alistar had become obsessed with it. But he also heard her good humor.

“We’ve got an hour until our shift. Want to go over it again?” she asked.

He did but at this point, he was spinning his wheels.

Regardless, he pulled up the dossier they’d put together on Mariah and the man in their cell. For now they called him Hades, because they didn’t have any other ID on him.

“Hades. Fingerprints come back a John Doe. Human. We estimate he’s early- to mid-thirties. Well trained.”

The phone on the center of the conference table rang. It was the ringtone for The Council. Alistar hit a button on his keyboard that connected the call.

“New Orleans,” Alistar answered.

“I need to speak to your ringleader.” Despite the fact they considered themselves equal, each team of six Guardians followed the orders of the most-senior member.

Alistar glanced over at Basil, who nodded and headed out the door.

“He’s on his way.”

“Thank you.”

Less than a minute later, Rhyse strolled into the room, Basil on his heels. Six feet, five inches of kick-ass hybrid; smart, capable, calm. And the man in charge of their little group of peacekeepers.

“Rhyse van Aert,” he said, bracing his hands against the edge of the conference table.

“One second please,” the feminine voice said.

A moment later, a man came on the line. “Are we on a secure line?” he asked, but sounded as if he was speaking to someone in the room with him.

“Of course, sir,” the woman answered.

“Rhyse?”

“This is Rhyse.”

“I have news for you. It’s not good. We’ve had a report of another witch disappearing. This time, in Maine. We’ve sent the details.”

Alistar did some quick, mental math. That was seven witches missing in the last month.

“I’m sending you some help, since your team is down a member,” Ksilvanté said. “We need to figure out what’s going on, and what this Mariah wants.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Rhyse agreed.

“You’ll continue leading the investigation. You and your ring. Report your findings directly to the Council. The Elders…they don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“None of us do.”

“Lexi should be there any minute. Best hacker this side of the Atlantic Ocean.”

“Hacker, sir?” Rhyse frowned as he met Alistar’s gaze.

“Report when you have something.” Ksilvanté’s tone turned brusque, and brooked no argument. Not that any Stigward member would willingly argue with the man who’d founded the whole organization.

“Will do.”

The call disconnected, and there were several beats of silence as he, Rhyse, and Basil glanced at each other.

The Stigward were alternately for and against technology. They’d use whatever means it took to catch a rogue. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they’d call in a top computer mind to help with the search.

Searching via computer was a hell of a lot easier than the days of hunting via horseback.

But still, Alistar was surprised.

And who was this Lexi dude?

As if sensing the turmoil inside him, Basil patted his forearm. Had she had one of her visions? Maybe she was trying to soothe him.

“Shouldn’t we have gotten a report on this guy? I mean, if he’s going to be on the team, shouldn’t we know something more than his name?” Basil asked.

“First name,” Rhyse corrected.

“You’d think,” Alistar said, pulling up their group email.

There was no file waiting for them. Nothing new in their file system. They’d stopped sending paper copies in the mid-1990s.

He had an itch to call the council back and ask what the hell was going on.

With so many factions within the paranormal realm, and plenty of animosity after wars between species, it was customary to provide warning before a new ring member arrived.

“And what did he mean by arriving any minute? We always meet on neutral territory,” Basil said.

“What if this is a game? What if Mariah is playing with us?” Alistar asked, a sick feeling in his gut.

“Call the Council,” Rhyse said.

Alistar dialed the number every Stigward member knew by heart. He gave his identification code. The same soft, feminine voice as before came on the line.

“This is Rhyse van Aert. We haven’t received a file on our new team member.”

“Lexi isn’t a team member,” the woman said. “Lexi’s a helper.”

A helper?

What the hell?

“We’re going to need more than that,” Rhyse said, hands braced once more on the polished-wood surface.

The front gate buzzer sounded.

Grab your copy

7 Days until Resisting the Vampire’s Kiss!

Final Count.down… (Did you sing that in your head? I did.)

The breeze shifted, hitting the woman square in the back. She rocked forward on her toes, and that was when it hit him.

The thing that had been bugging him. Basil seemed to realize it at the same second.

Even from inside the walls of the Stigward house, his gut had told him something was off. Not quite right.

“You’re human,” Alistar said softly, ever aware of the Garden District’s close quarters. There were some things you didn’t want the neighbors overhearing.

Lexi stepped closer, closing her hands around the gate’s iron bars. Big, brown eyes full of mirth and intelligence. And that mouth…why couldn’t he stop staring at it?

“And you are a vampire,” she whispered, her words disappearing on the breeze.

There was something about the way she said the word vampire that made him think of long evenings of slow sex. Claiming her lips in lingering kisses. Fisting his hands into those chocolate locks. Drinking from her graceful neck. Being wrapped in her arms while he drilled into her tight heat.

“And I’m a hybrid. Woo-hoo,” Basil sing-songed.

Lexi didn’t break eye contact, and he had a feeling she was testing him. Why, he didn’t have the first clue.

But she barely blinked, and her lips were parted ever so slightly. Why couldn’t he stop looking at them?

Why couldn’t he stop wondering what they’d taste like?

And why couldn’t he hear her thoughts in his head?

Alistar took a step back, and realized instantly that he’d made a mistake.

If this had been a staring contest, he’d just blinked.

Grab your copy

Reaching out of my comfort zone

From my Facebook post in the wee hours of the morning:

“We are still masters of our fate. We are still captains of our souls.”~ Winston ChurchillI’m ugly crying as I write the second chapter of my next book. I had never planned on writing this character’s story. But as the previous adventures unfolded, it became clear that she needed to be heard. Her voice had been stifled over and over. She’d suffered through no fault of her own. And she, maybe more than any character I’ve ever written, deserved her chance at a happily ever after.She doesn’t feel like the master of her fate. The captain of her soul.Not yet.But she will.I hope I can do her justice.She is so far outside of my comfort zone, she might as well be on Mars.I’d better stock up on tissues.