by D McEntire
His heart catapulted into his throat. “Suma,” he breathed. “In my heart and my soul, you are my mate, but the real choice is yours. Will you have me? Will you allow me to stand beside you, and protect you with my life?”
Suma laughed softly, and it was music to his ears. “Yes, Rayne. I will have you as my mate, but I don’t know about the protecting part. I think I can handle that myself.”
Rayne was serious about his declaration to protect her with his life, and he had no doubt she knew it as well. It just was and would always be. He was a male, a vampire warrior, and nothing would come between him and his mate.
Rayne kissed her fiercely. She had given him back his identity.
Suma wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him deep inside her warmth. He groaned and began moving again, building his pace.
Her body trembled under his as her orgasm built, making its way to the surface. Rayne swirled his tongue around the pulse in her neck, then sank his fangs, letting the taste of her warm, sweet blood flow past his lips. She was heaven.
The quick pricking sensation of Rayne’s fangs startled Suma, though it quickly disappeared and melted into the most Earth shattering sensation she had ever experienced. It overpowered her senses, and snatched her into another realm, another dimension of time and space. She felt whisked away to heaven itself as she clung to him.
Suddenly, she sensed what Rayne wanted and knew what was to be done to seal the bond between them. Suma breathed in deeply and called to the black wolf. Her two top incisors lengthened to fangs through the spirit of the wolf. She lifted her head and sank the gleaming tips within a place of easy reach—the soft flesh just above his collarbone.
His blood was a delicacy and far from the sickening acrid blood of the Rogues. It enveloped her senses.
She was now complete, body, heart and soul. The Spirits had blessed her with a lifemate—her other half.
Suma had the overwhelming need to pull him closer, to have all of him as her body cried out for more. It felt as though she would explode if she didn’t get it. She lifted her hips to meet every thrust, letting him deeper into her core.
More.
Suma bucked, held his shoulders tight and opened her thighs wider.
More.
She lifted her legs higher on his back, bringing her hips and buttocks off the mattress.
Another eruption burst through her, this one more powerful than the first, knocking the air out of her lungs on a cry of rapture.
Within the throes of bliss, she knew the moment Rayne’s climax shot through him, and he growled in pleasure, surging forward once last time. Electricity crackled in the air, lighting up the room before he collapsed on her, gasping for breath.
When Suma found her voice, not to mention regained feeling back in her body to be able to move her mouth, she spoke breathlessly.
“Wow…will it always be like that?”
Rayne chuckled and used what strength he had left to roll over and pull her close to his side, tucking her head under his chin. “I can’t guarantee it, but know I will always give you all I have…even if it kills me.”
Suma laughed against his chest, and sighed, the sound of sated bliss stroking his male ego, and he squeezed her tight.
When Suma yawned rather loudly and quite unladylike, he kissed her on the top of her head. “Suma, my love, we should probably get dressed. It will be dawn in a couple of hours, and we have much to work out. There is a lot going on here at the Cell, and I think it would be better for us to stay elsewhere. I’ll leave a note for Tank, my commander, to let him know of my decision. I’ll contact him with more details in a few days.”
When Suma didn’t move, a wave of emotion moved over him as if it were his own—hurt.
“Suma, what’s wrong? Please do not think my wanting to leave the Cell before dawn is any reflection on you, and your place in my life. You are my life, Suma.”
He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “We are just starting our lives together, and call me selfish, but I want you to myself.”
With a sly grin, he brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. “After we settle somewhere in the area, we will meet your people and set them on their path as warriors. When we return, I will introduce you to my brothers with honor.”
Suma’s frown disappeared, replaced by a blush. Rayne came to realize whenever he paid her a compliment she blushed. She had better get used to hearing many compliments, he told himself.
“I understand. Where would we go?” Suma asked.
Rayne chuckled softly. “Some place where we can both be free.”
Epilogue
A lazy, evening breeze blew over the rolling expanse of the land owned by Dana and Keith—two hundred acres, both flatlands and wooded sanctuary.
A lone black wolf sprinted with long strides beside a winding creek bed, and a beautiful golden hawk soared overhead, keeping pace on the wind.
The wolf disappeared into the trees, making haste, ducking low branches and bounding over fallen trees and stumps, before bursting out into the open field again, never breaking stride. The hawk let out a cry, the sound reverberating through the sky with an echo.
Dana smiled from the deck on the rear of her house as she watched the two Skinwalkers embracing their gift from the Spirits, and letting off steam after returning from a hunt—a mission. An unsuccessful one, Rayne told her earlier this evening when both he and Suma arrived.
“They having a good run?” Keith asked, coming behind her and sliding his hands around her waist.
Dana nodded and sighed. “Yeah. Kern is still missing, and they are taking it pretty hard that they were unable to find any signs of the Watcher. They’re leaving tonight to catch a flight to Utah.”
“What about his Watcher duties?”
“Rayne said he informed his commander he planned on continuing his Watcher duties, but not downtown.”
Rayne’s hawk mentally called to the black wolf.
“It is time to go, Suma.”
The wolf slowed, then trotted to a stop. In a bright flash of light, Suma returned to her human form and waited for Rayne.
The hawk swooped and landed on the ground before Rayne released the raptor’s form.
“That was fun. I needed a good run,” Suma said, a little breathless.
Rayne smiled and nodded, loving the flushed look on her face as if they had just made passionate love. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her into his arms for a long, leisurely kiss.
“I thought you said it was time to go,” she teased against his lips.
Rayne rolled his eyes then pulled away. “Yeah, I know,” he said on a sigh as he placed his hand in hers and walked to the cottage Dana and Keith had allowed them to build on the property. He checked to make sure the door was secure one last time to halt Suma’s fretting.
“Rayne?”
Rayne turned to Suma as he climbed into the Jeep.
“Do you think they will ever find Kern? The missing Watcher? Could he be dead?”
Rayne turned forward in his seat and stared, but not at anything in particular.
“No. I don’t think he is dead. Whenever a Watcher is lost, we all feel it. We call ourselves brothers and sisters, but in truth is it much deeper than that. We are all connected somehow. When a warrior stands in front of Dr. Olivia and takes the vow, they become part of the fold, a part of the connection.”
He turned and looked at Suma who had grown quiet. Her face looked thoughtful, then she spoke. “Should I take the vow?”
He smiled. She was serious about the role of Watchers. “Only if you want to, Suma, and when you are ready.”
She smiled brightly. “Yes. I want to.”
He leaned over and kissed her. The kiss started out gentle, then deepened.
After breaking the kiss, he started the Jeep and drove slowly down the small gravel path leading from the cottage. It connected to the main driveway, just past Dana and Keith’s home.
As his Jeep passed their house, he notic
ed the two sitting on the deck and pictured Dana sipping hot coffee as the couple sat in the darkness, talking and rocking in the wooden rocking chairs.
Rayne and Suma waved goodbye and continued on, getting started on their journey to Utah to introduce Rayne to her home, her people.
Suma smiled to herself as Rayne pulled onto the highway. She was bringing Rayne into her family, and soon she would become part of his—the family of Watchers. With a glance at the night sky and the multitude of stars twinkling above, she thought about the missing Watcher.
“All will be well, granddaughter.”
Suma sucked in a breath and glanced at Rayne who turned to her and smiled.
“Yes, Suma, I heard, and I feel your grandfather is right. We will find him.”
Tank stood on the second floor of the old Military Hospital, staring at the upturned tables, broken glass and puddles of liquid which was once Evan Batowsky’s lab. Although both Evan and Rico had been taken out of the picture, unfinished business ate at him. He was the Commanding Officer of the downtown Louisville Cell and felt the weight of those loose ends on his shoulders.
Dr. Pearson, who had headed this lab, had never been found. The scientist had not been here when he and Trigg destroyed the lab and killed the technicians. There was also the issue of the vampire drug the doctor had given to Rico. It was not the same drug they had found at Evan’s mansion, but something different. The substance contained something far worse than the euphoric high the buyer expected. The drug the doctor had created was deadly, like vampire cyanide.
As Tank stepped forward, bent and lifted a cracked beaker into his hand, he gritted his teeth. Dr. Pearson was dangerous. The human knew vampires existed and obviously harbored ill will towards the race. The man also knew how to create something which could actually cause them harm.
The beaker smashed in Tank’s grip. The fact a Watcher had gone missing the same evening Dr. Pearson had disappeared, and neither had been seen since did not sit well. He could not get past the feeling there was a connection. If his inner voice was right, it didn’t bode well for Kern.
About the Author
D. McEntire calls southern Indiana home and relishes life in the peace of the country along with her husband and two children, not to mention the menagerie of animals on the small farm.
An avid reader of romance novels, she decided to try her hand in putting some of the ideas bouncing around her head to paper, and thus The Watchers Series was born.
To learn more about D. McEntire please visit www.dmcentire.com. Send an email to Diane at [email protected].
Look for these titles by D. McEntire
Now Available:
Midnight Reborn
Midnight Rose
Sometimes a rose is more than a rose.
Midnight Rose
© 2008 D. McEntire
The Watchers, Book 2
The countdown is on for Louisville, Kentucky’s fireworks show and the Watchers are in place. Rogue vampires, being the ultimate party crashers they are, are expected to join the revelry.
Rosa Bella, standing-room-only singer at the Black Panther Lounge, has her own chaos to manage. As a vampire who manages to blend in with society, she doesn’t need any more complications. But a gorgeous one has just turned her life upside down—Vane, a Watcher assigned to hunt down and eliminate Rogues prowling the downtown streets.
Vane, dubbed “Latin Lover” by his fellow Watchers, fills his nights with his favorite letter of the alphabet, “F”—females and food. But nothing fills his empty heart like Rosa’s soft, sexy body. Still, a Watcher’s life has no room for attachments, even one who can defend herself with a pair of red stilettos.
Then two unexpected players join the game, and Rosa is thrust into the middle as the prize. They never expected their relationship to be a bed of roses, but as the festival-ending horse race looms, the only way to survive to the finish line is to face the dangers—together.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Rose:
Vane carried Rosa to his bed. She seemed to be winding down, going limp in his arms and fading into sleep. He pulled back the comforter and covers, then gently laid her on the bed.
Staring at her, his heart ached when he thought he might have never seen her again. Evan’s words about her being his mate rang through his head. Though his mind refused to even entertain the thought, he wouldn’t know the truth until she recovered from the drugs in her system.
He sat on the edge of the bed, then raised her to a sitting position, leaning her against his chest. Wanting her to be as comfortable as possible, he kissed the top of her head, then turned her and lowered the zipper of her dress. After he had her undressed, Vane covered her and stood.
His emotional state was teetering on the edge, and he paced the room for several minutes before heading into the bathroom to splash cool water on his face. He could use a shower, but he didn’t want to leave Rosa alone. Instead, he pulled a chair beside the bed, and settled down to wait for the unknown. There was no telling if she would go through withdrawals from the drugs, but he was going to be ready to do whatever was necessary to see her through it.
Rosa’s quiet slumber lasted only a few hours. Vane had drifted off to sleep, but was awakened by her moans. When he opened his eyes, Rosa was clutching the covers and moving her head from side to side.
Vane left the chair and sat on the bed beside her, stroked her hair, and spoke in a soft, calming voice. “I’m here, mi dulce.” Shifting her closer, he began to sing her a lullaby he had learned from his mother in Cuba.
After a few verses, Rosa’s eyes fluttered, then opened. When they focused on him, he could see the hungry look was once again in her smoky, gray eyes. Vane knew what she wanted and was not about to deny her. He lifted her into his lap, and cradled her head against his neck while leaning against the headboard. It only took a moment for Rosa to take his offer and sink in her teeth.
Demons in a feeding frenzy drive the world-weary Markhat to the brink…
Hold the Dark
© 2009 Frank Tuttle
A Markhat Story
Quiet, hard-working seamstresses aren’t the kind that normally go missing, even in a tough town like Rannit. Martha Hoobin’s disappearance, though, quickly draws Markhat into a deadly struggle between a halfdead blood cult and the infamous sorcerer known only as the Corpsemaster.
A powerful magical artifact may be both his only hope of survival—and the source of his own inescapable damnation.
Markat’s search leads him to the one thing that’s been missing in his life. But even love’s awesome power may not save him from the darkness that’s been unleashed inside his own soul.
Warning: This gritty, hard-boiled fantasy detective novel contains mild romance and interludes of suggestive handholding.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Hold the Dark:
I picked up the candle and followed.
The door wound down a long dark hall. Walls, floors and ceiling all bore water damage, but the warped pine wood floor had been repaired in two places. Recently, too, the nail-heads shone of new-beaten iron in the light, which meant they hadn’t had time to rust.
The hall abruptly ended. I stepped down, nearly stumbled, onto a cobble-brick floor, and my candlelight lost sight of any ceiling, and all the walls. It did illuminate the backs of four black-clad halfdead, who stood in a small circle a dozen steps away.
Evis and his dark glasses turned to face me.
“They are friends. They do not see you.”
“Wonderful.” My mouth was so dry I spoke in a ragged whisper. My new friends didn’t turn, didn’t leap, so I licked my lips and took a step toward them. “What is it we’re seeing?”
I wasn’t seeing a thing, aside from vampires and a flickering ring of shadows and floor-bricks.
“Blood was spilled here. Spilled in such quantity that it rushed onto the floor.” He indicated the area, which the halfdead surrounded. They pulled back a few steps, and Evis motioned me forw
ard. I took my guttering candle and went.
All I saw were bricks, just like all the others—black and smooth and rounded over with age and wear. Half the old buildings in Rannit were built over even older roads, just like this one. The builders merely scraped the dirt off the cobbles and called it a floor.
I knelt down, put my nose near the cold baked clay. If there was any blood there, it was too old and too faint for human eyes and a stub of a candle to see.
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said, rising.
“Do,” said Evis. “You see no trace because soon after the blood was spilled, the floor was cleaned. I suspect they used a mop and tanner’s bleach. My associates and I can still smell the traces though. Some must have run between the cobbles.”
“Rannit’s got more blood-stains than pot holes,” I said. “What makes this one special? What does it have to do with Martha Hoobin?”
Evis sighed.
Then he frowned.
“Mavis. Torno, Glee, come here.”
Three new vampires appeared and glided near, their ghost-white faces turned down, their dirty marble eyes turned away from my light.
“What the—”
Evis raised a hand and the halfdead stopped still, faces down, beside me. I shut up.
A moment passed. I strained my ears, since my eyes were proving useless. I heard nothing at first—then, faintly, I made out scratching, like a mouse in a wall, chewing away. I held my breath but couldn’t locate the source.
Evis put his dark glasses away. “Dear God,” he said, in a whisper. “Dear God.”
A fourth vampire appeared at my right elbow. Evis nodded at it.
“Go now, Mr. Markhat. Sara will take you to safety.”
I opened my mouth. The scratching grew louder. Was it coming from the floor?
“Sara!”
Sara reached out, put both cold hands on my waist and hefted me a foot off the floor.
