by Jane Ederlyn
Table of Contents
REBORN
Acknowledgements
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Chapter XLI
Chapter XLII
Chapter XLIII
Chapter XLIV
REBORN
Princess of the Blood Series
JANE EDERLYN
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
REBORN
Copyright©2016
JANE EDERLYN
Cover Design by Anna-Lena Spies
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
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Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-61935-861-4
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
For our Moms
Acknowledgements
We are so grateful for our families—their patience, support, and belief that we could and would do this, has meant the world to us. We love you! And for our extended family of sisters—Marlene, Lina, Ella, Donna, and Lisa, for their unending support and enthusiasm. We love you too!
Thanks to our writing family, the fabulous and talented Florida Romance Writers. With special thanks to Victoria, Sheena, and Rosemary for holding our hand through our first pitch and pushing us farther than we thought we were ready for.
Thanks to SavvyAuthors, FF&P, and the generous community of RWA.
A heartfelt thanks to our day job families, where we have some of our biggest cheerleaders.
Thanks to Bentley Miami, especially to Russ Bennett and Paula Parztelnik. The car is awesome and Marie will drive no other.
Thanks to our first beta reader and fan, Leonor Gonzalez—thank you, thank you, thank you!
Last but not least, many, many thanks to the awesome team of editors and writers at Soul Mate Publishing, including Char the Queen of the purple font, but especially to our amazing editor, Debby Gilbert. We are so lucky!
JE
Chapter I
Marie Josette d’Orgemont maneuvered her black Bentley out of the South Beach traffic and onto the hedge-encased driveway of the Delano Hotel. Sliding in behind a glossy red Carrera, she killed the engine and turned in her seat to study her great-granddaughter, eight generations removed. “Are you ready?”
Abby nodded but didn’t move. “I have something to tell you.”
Marie tensed. She knew of course. She’d known for days. But she clamped down on her emotions, so Abby didn’t read disappointment on her face.
“What is it, ma chérie?”
Abby took a deep breath and blurted, “I’m not pregnant.”
“I know.”
“Yes, of course you do.” With her confession in the open, Abby’s shoulders sagged.
Marie leaned over the gearshift and cupped her chin. “You are tired. You should be home with your books and not out with me all evening.”
“But you miss me when you go out alone.”
Abby was so protective you’d think she was the vampire and not the other way around. Marie smiled and brushed a light kiss on her forehead. “True. I always miss you. Let’s go then.”
They exited the Bentley and, after tipping the valet, ascended short steps past the porch with its beckoning white sofa. Indoors, the lobby stretched from end to end, dotted with massive white columns, flickering lights, and floor-to-ceiling curtains that reminded Marie of Versailles.
The white gossamer wisps billowed like ghosts as she glided past. She closed her eyes, giving in to the pull of her childhood home, of being reprimanded for chasing her cousin Louis down empty hallways. Princesses needed to appear as if their feet never touched the ground, as if they floated rather than walked. And they never, ever, ran. That was a long time ago.
Her hand went to the jeweled, cross pendant hanging between her breasts. It had been her mother’s, and against her chest, it felt like the heartbeat she didn’t have.
She opened her eyes, glanced at a trailing Abby, and chuckled. Her old governess would’ve have fainted at the girl’s less than perfect carriage.
The Rose Bar, carved into the lobby midway, lived up to its name with pink upholstered walls, petal-shaped chandeliers, and rose-quartz counters. People occupied every seat, spilling out of the small space and collecting in the corridor.
She spied an empty table across the bar and claimed it, holding down the fabric of her mini skirt as she slid onto a chair. Abby took the seat opposite her and immediately opened a menu.
Marie scanned the area, analyzing corners, exits, and a myriad of faces. The last time her guard had slipped, spiteful vampires killed Abby’s mother. She would’ve lost Abby as well, if she hadn’t arrived in time to give her blood. Eighteen years later, the memory still burned, as did the debilitating fear of losing the last of her family and not having anything to live for. Human life was fragile. Never would she allow herself to be that vulnerable again.
Shaking off the dark direction of her thoughts, she peered across the table. Most of her descendants had cornflower-blue eyes instead of her own olive hue. Abby was not an exception. But despite eye color, hair a shade more brown than her dark blond mane, and the passing of centuries, their resemblance was u
ndeniable.
Abby dropped the menu. “I’ll have the pinot noir.”
“Try something different. The rose lychee martini sounds lovely.”
Abby bit her lip. “Go ahead and say it. I know you’re thinking it.”
Marie looked away from her piercing eyes and toward the bar. People talked and breathed, their heartbeats pulsing along with the base of the music. The tabletop was smooth against her fingertips as she tapped the same rhythm on the wood surface. “Thinking what?”
“That at twenty-two you’d already given birth to Marcel and my mother had given birth to me.”
“The continuation of our bloodline is important to me. To us.”
“I feel like there’s this huge X on the calendar. I should just have a one-night stand and get it over with. Maybe someone here?”
Marie’s hand stilled. “Only if that is your wish. You have time,” she said, even though all her instincts raged in denial. Time. It could be a gift or a curse. Either way it wasn’t dependable. Immortals knew that. Marie knew that. Abby took it for granted. She turned back to meet the storm in her gaze. “We need an heir. But more than anything, I want you to be as happy as I was.”
Abby pursed her lips. “I’m just moody. Sorry. You’ll have your heir. It’s important to me, too. It’ll be nice to have a big family.”
“Yes, it will be.” Marie smiled. It had been just the two of them since Abby was four years old. Two centuries of surviving, and all she had was Abby.
“Don’t look now, but you’re being checked out. And he’s hot.”
Marie glanced back.
“I told you not to look.”
Marie shrugged, unconcerned. “Perhaps he thinks I’m one of the celebrities who frequent here, or perhaps he’s not looking at me at all. I’m not alone at this table.”
“Don’t be modest. You’re gorgeous.”
Marie frowned. Abby handled guns, swords, and the complexities of their family business. She was confident in every aspect of life except her own beauty, in that she was blithely unaware. “You see what you want to see.”
Hoping to find a possible suitor for her, Marie inspected the crowd again. She didn’t want to push, but it couldn’t hurt to help nature along. Abby should have love in her life. She dismissed the man behind them with his too perfect eyebrows, and her gaze fell on another man with honey-brown hair and eyes. He sat alone and snuck shy glances at Abby. She decided to make it easy for him and pushed back her chair. “I’m going to get your drink.”
Abby’s forehead furrowed. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, ma chérie.”
Marie approached the bartender, and he put a napkin in front of her.
“What can I get for you?”
She held up a finger. “One moment, please.” She half-turned to watch the table.
Left alone, Abby fidgeted with the menu, alternating between holding it up as a barrier and putting it down on the table. When a noisy party came in from the pool, she casually regarded the commotion and then turned to her admirer. Their eyes connected.
Marie caught a shimmer of interest dance across Abby’s expression and resisted the urge to jump with joy.
She turned to face the waiting bartender. “I will take my drink now.”
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked in a low, sexy drawl.
He was deeply tanned and muscular, with a thickly corded neck. She zeroed in on his jugular. The vein throbbed, hinting of blood near the surface, and a rush of hunger, potent and predatory, hit her.
Her daily meals were discards from local blood banks that her company delivered. They satisfied her nutritionally, but didn’t give the euphoria of drinking fresh from a living source. When she did drink from a live human, she took only enough to assuage her hunger, and the puncture wound and memory faded almost immediately.
How long had it been since she fed from a live human? At least a month. She tore her gaze away from his neck and ordered.
He nodded and reached for the martini shaker.
Perhaps the evening had promise for both her and Abby? As she pushed bills across the table, a cloud of electricity tainted the air. She turned, expecting to see a vampire, but her sight fell on a pair of glowing gold eyes lurking from a shadowy corner of the lobby. Not a vampire.
The tall, male silhouette stared back at her, bold and unflinching. He appeared human but wasn’t. What was he? And what was he doing in vampire territory? She inhaled, her nostrils filling with an earthy scent that sent alarms buzzing through her. Breaking his stare, she swept the area, the motion so fast her hair lifted off her shoulders and brushed her face, but she saw only the one.
She wasn’t overly concerned. Vampires were at the top of the food chain and she was stronger than most. This thing wasn’t a threat to her. But if they were going to stay in Miami, she needed to know Abby would be safe during daylight.
Marie glanced back at her. The girl was oblivious, her features pursed as if contemplating the secrets of life.
This wasn’t California. The vampires here were Marie’s allies. But she couldn’t take any risks. Unease bubbled inside her and her control teetered until the soft animation of her face shifted into a hard mask. She had to investigate.
Immersed in the crowd, Abby would be fine. No supernatural would attack in a crowd. As much as Marie hated leaving her, there was safety in numbers.
She instructed the waiter to deliver the drinks to her table and stood. The man next to her at the bar touched her arm. She whipped around and he recoiled, dropping his hand. His eyes widened and whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips.
Marie started walking, mentally locking on Abby, but not looking at her in case she was being observed.
Abby snapped her head up in attention.
Stay, Marie thought and looked up from the floor in time to see the gold-eyed man retreating into the shadows until he disappeared completely, awakening the predator. Her fangs extended. The chase was on.
Chapter II
Marie stormed after him. Outside, a wall of humidity and flashing lights enveloped her. Fists clenched, she dove into a mass of dancers swaying to a fast techno beat. They parted for her as if they sensed her urgency. She scanned their faces. Nothing. People lounged on white chaises and mingled in the pool, but none of them had round, glowing eyes.
Just when she thought she might have to open every cabana, she caught a shadow on her left, bristling against the night as it flew over the privacy fence. She turned and followed, speed barely checked.
Seventeenth Street was lined with parked cars. To the right, the side road ended at the beach. To the left, it opened to the busy intersection of Collins Avenue. If there was such a thing as an optimal place for chasing down an anomaly, this wasn’t it.
She caught another flicker of movement in the construction zone of the adjacent hotel and jumped the iron-link fence. As soon as she approached the dumpsters, she was assaulted by the reek of urine and something vaguely like putrid fur. Some sort of creature had marked his territory and was dying. She sighed, irritated the vampire coven hadn’t warned her other supernaturals inhabited the area.
Another flash of movement preceded a high-pitched howl that was conspicuous, despite the house music from the Delano’s pool deck spilling into the night. An answering wail turned into raucous laughter. Marie searched the street behind her. Three boys climbed into a convertible and peeled out, unaware of any danger. She was relieved she didn’t have to deal with an unknown creature and curious humans, but when she turned toward the empty building, a mass of fur hit her square in the stomach. It pushed her up against a wall, and her head bounced against concrete. She grunted and raised a hand to inspect her scalp. It was sore but dry.
Curiosity immobilized her for a split second as she stared at the half-m
an, half-wolf abomination in front of her. He wasn’t the man she was chasing. But she didn’t have time to think about that.
“You’re lucky you didn’t draw blood.” She grabbed his face and pushed him away. “What are you?”
He hissed.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Tell me where you come from.”
His bloodshot eyes remained blank and his expression unreadable. She debated what to do next when he lunged forward and swiped at her face with knife-like claws. Her cheek burned. This time he’d drawn blood.
“Enough!” She hurled him into the air and he landed with a clunk, face down in a pyramid of discarded pipes, sending them rolling. He whined and didn’t get up.
She swooped down and prodded him with her heel until he rolled over.
He snarled and she kicked him in the side. With a grunt, he curled into a ball. She bent to inspect him, but his hand snaked out. She kicked him again. This time the force of her blow sent him soaring like a soccer ball until he hit the wall and fell, crashing into garbage in a bloody, whimpering heap.
She cocked her head, smelling blood—human living blood—mixed with the stench of chemicals and decaying food. “Qu’es-tu?” He didn’t respond. “What are you, and what do you want with me?” She took a step closer. He had a pronounced muzzle and his naked anatomy was largely covered in dark fuzz.
The quickening thud of bare feet sent all contemplation out the door. She turned.
Another creature charged, growling ferociously. She stepped aside. He missed and anger flared from him in an upsurge of snarls.
He rushed Marie. Again and again, she anticipated and thwarted. His reactions, like his counterpart’s, were slow in comparison to hers but faster than an ordinary human.
