Praise for Adrian Phoenix and The Maker’s Song series
BENEATH THE SKIN
“Adrian Phoenix has done it again! Complex, lyrical, and beautifully written . . . another unique and compulsive page-turner.”
—Jenna Black, author of Speak of the Devil
“In the burgeoning genre of urban fantasy, Adrian Phoenix’s world stands out as unique. . . . This violent, wrenching tale is something special. Readers have seen tortured heroes before, but young, almost androgynously beautiful Dante is a remarkable hero who bonds with Heather even as he struggles with his sanity.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“This darkly dramatic tale is one wild ride in a series that only promises to get better.”
—Romantic Times
“Phoenix transports the reader to another world comprised of both shimmering beauty and tactile violence. . . . Fusing and melding the worlds of angels, vampires, and mortals into a story where appearances hide greater truths ensures an engrossing and matchless reading experience.”
—Bitten By Books
IN THE BLOOD
“Phoenix trips the dark fantastic in this wild, bloody sequel. . . . She keeps the plot thick and the tension high.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The atmosphere is dark, and treachery abounds, making this story white-knuckle reading in the extreme.”
—Romantic Times
“Adrian Phoenix takes us into a world with tremendous passion and caring combined with evil beyond comprehension. In the Blood is a complex story that leaves you begging for more.”
—Vampire Librarian
“Filled with twisting plots, shadowy government agencies, conspiracies, and betrayals, In the Blood kept me hooked from page one. This dark urban fantasy is not only action-packed from beginning to end, but at its core, it is also a story of hope and love.”
—ParaNormal Romance
A RUSH OF WINGS
“Hard-charging action sequences, steamy sex scenes, and a surprising government conspiracy make this debut, the first in a series, engrossingly fun.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“Phoenix’s lively debut has it all . . . vampires and fallen angels and a slicing-dicing serial killer . . . Phoenix alternates romantic homages to gothdom and steamy blood-drinking threesomes with enough terse, fast-paced thriller scenes to satisfy even the most jaded fan.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Sharp, wicked, and hot as sin.”
—New York Times bestselling author Marjorie M. Liu
“Twisted science and the paranormal collide in this eerie new detective thriller that takes an intriguing slant on the supernatural. Phoenix’s gritty and original characters are instantly engaging, and the rapid pace keeps you glued to the pages.”
—Romantic Times
“A thrilling tale of lust and murder that will keep you turning the pages to see what happens next. A Rush of Wings joins the vampire romanticism of Anne Rice with the brutal intrigue of Silence of the Lambs.”
—Gothic Beauty
“Ms. Phoenix spins a deliciously dark and seductive tale filled with sadistic serial killers, sexy vampires, powerful fallen angels and secret experiments. The fast pace and creative twists make this action-packed read one to remember, and the steamy romance will have readers eagerly looking for more of the same.”
—Darque Reviews
“A complex, layered story filled with twists and turns . . . a dark, rich treat you won’t soon forget.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“This one pulled me in from the first page. Heather and Dante are among those rare characters readers so often look for and seldom find.”
—New York Times bestselling author Barb Hendee
“A Rush of Wings is a fast-paced ride, its New Orleans setting appropriately rich and gothic, its characters both real and surprising.”
—New York Times bestselling author Kristine Kathryn Rusch
ALSO BY ADRIAN PHOENIX
FROM POCKET BOOKS
A Rush of Wings
In the Blood
Beneath the Skin
Black Dust Mambo
Pocket Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Adrian Phoenix
“End of Days” lyrics © Tommy Dark and Ruby Ruin, used with permission.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Pocket Books paperback edition March 2011
POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Cover illustration by Craig White
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4391-3730-7
ISBN 978-1-4391-9868-1 (ebook)
Dedicated to Sean and Rose Prescott,
the writer whisperers.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
HEARTFELT THANKS TO MY incredible editor, Jen Heddle, for her insight, advice, understanding, and patience. I couldn’t do this without her! Special thanks also to Renee Huff and Erica Feldon at Pocket for their unflagging support and promotion; to Craig White for the beautiful covers and to Lisa Litwack for their design. I couldn’t be happier! I’m honored to work with each of you. And I’m also honored to be a part of Pocket. I’m deeply grateful to everyone involved with my books for your hard work, dedication, and support!
Big thanks to my agent, Matt Bialer, as always for your encouragement, friendship, and enthusiasm. You’ve made this wonderful journey even more so.
Special thanks to Paul Goat Allen at BN.com for his unwavering support and promotion of the books, and for his love of the characters and their story. You rock! I can’t thank you enough. Gimme a devil sign, dude.
And to D.B. Reynolds for not only writing awesome and sexy books (check out her Vampires in America series), but for her friendship and support.
Monster thanks to: Mippy Carlson, Nate Gross, Sheila Dale, Louise Robson, Judi Szabo, Heather Lobdell, and all the members of Club Hell and my street team for your support, enthusiasm, and love for Dante and his world. He’s got a helluva lot of kisses to deliver.
To my friends and family: You know who you are. I love you all. You’re the flame that fuels my heart.
Thanks also to: Nine Inch Nails, Queens of the Stone Age, Anders Manga, Saints of Ruin, How to Destroy Angels, and Muse for the music.
And, last, but never least, Trent Reznor whose music always provides an emotional soundscape for Dante and his world and is always a source of inspiration.
And, always, thanks to you, the reader, for picking up this book and plunging back into Dante, Heather, and Lucien’s world. None of this could happen without you. If this is your first time, bienvenue and enjoy.
Please visit me at www.adrianphoenix.com, www.myspace.com/adriannikolasphoenix and at www.facebook.com/pages/Adrian-Phoenix/.
GLOSSARY
TO MAKE THINGS AS simple as possible, I’ve listed not only words, but phrases used in the story. Please keep
in mind that Cajun is different from Parisian French and the French generally spoken in Europe. Different grammatically and even, sometimes, in pronunciation and spelling.
The French that Guy Mauvais and Justine Aucoin use is traditional French as opposed to Dante’s Cajun.
For the Irish and Welsh words—including the ones I’ve created—pronunciation is provided.
One final thing: Prejean is pronounced PRAY-zhawn.
Aingeal (AIN-gyahl), angel. Fallen/Elohim word.
Ami, (m) friend, (f) amie. Mon ami, my friend.
Anhrefncathl (ann-HREVN-cathl), chaos song; the song of a Maker. Fallen/Elohim word.
Apprentis, (pl) apprentices, (s) apprenti.
Assolutamente, (Italian) absolutely.
Aussi, too, also.
Au ’voir, short for au revoir, good-bye.
Beaucoup, very, much, many, a great deal.
Bien, well, very.
Bon, good, nice, fine, kind.
Bonne chance, good luck.
Buenas noches, (Spanish) good evening.
Buona sera, (Italian) good evening. Buona sera, bella, good evening, beautiful.
Buono, (Italian) good.
Ça fait pas rien, you’re welcome. Also, pas de quoi.
Ça fini pas, it never ends.
Calon-cyfaill, (KAW-lawn-CUHV-aisle) bondmate, heart-mate.
Catin, (f) doll, dear, sweetheart.
Ça va bien, I’m fine, I’m good, okay.
Ça va pas du tout, Things aren’t going well at all.
Cercle de Druide, Circle of Druids, a sacred and select nightkind order.
C’est bon, that’s good.
Chalkydri (chal-KOO-dree), winged serpentine demons of Sheol, subservient to the Elohim.
Cher, (m) dear, beloved; (f) chère. Mon cher, (m) my dear or my beloved.
Cher ami, mon, (m) my dearest friend, my best friend; intimate, implying a special relationship. (f) Chère ami, ma.
Chéri, (m) dearest, darling, honey (f) chérie.
Chien, (m) dog. (f) Chienne, dog, bitch.
Creawdwr (KRAY-OW-dooer), creator; Maker/Unmaker; an extremely rare branch of the Elohim believed to be extinct. Last known creawdwr was Yahweh.
Creu tân (kray tahn), Maker’s fire, a creawdwr’s power of creation.
Cydymaith (kuh-DUH-mith), companion.
Da, (Russian) yes.
D’accord, okay.
Delizioso, (Italian) delicious.
Elohim, (s and pl) the Fallen; the beings mythologized as fallen angels.
È una possibilità, (Italian) It’s a possibility.
Exactement, exactly.
Fais-moi, make me.
Fallen, see Elohim.
Fi’ de garce, son-of-a-bitch.
Filidh, master bard/warriors of the llygaid.
Fils, son. Mon fils, my son.
Fille de sang, (f) blood-daughter; “turned” female offspring of a vampire.
Fils de sang, (m) blood-son; “turned” male offspring of a vampire.
Fout moi la paix, leave me alone. Harsher than quitte moi tranquille.
Grazie, (Italian) thank you.
Je connais, I know.
Je t’aime, I love you.
Je t’entends, I hear you. Je t’entends, catin, I hear you, doll.
Joli, (m) pretty, cute; (f) jolie. Mon joli, my pretty boy.
J’su ici, I’m here.
J’su sûr, I’m sure
Le Conseil du Sang, the Council of Blood, nightkind lawgivers.
Llygad, (THLOO-gad) (s) eye; a watcher; keeper of immortal history; story-shaper; Llygaid, (THLOO-guide) pl.
Ma belle femme, my beautiful woman, lady. Can mean wife.
Ma mère, my mother.
Marmot, (m) brat.
Más claro que el agua, (Spanish) as clear as daylight.
Menteuse, (f) liar; (m) menteur.
Merci, thank you. Merci beaucoup, thanks a lot. Merci bien, thanks very much.
Merde, shit.
Mère de sang, (f) blood-mother; female vampire who has turned another and become their “parent.”
Minou, (m) endearing name for a cat.
Mio amico, (Italian) my friend.
Mo bhean, (Irish) my lady.
Mo pháiste, (Irish) my child.
M’selle, (f) abbreviated spoken form of mademoiselle, Miss, young lady.
M’sieu, (m) abbreviated spoken form of monsieur, Mr., sir, gentleman.
Naturellement, naturally, of course.
Nephilim, the offspring resulting from Fallen and mortal unions.
Nightbringer, a name/title given to Lucien De Noir.
Nightkind, (s and pl) vampire; Dante’s term for vampires.
Nomad, name for the pagan, gypsy-style clans who ride across the land.
Oui, yes.
Oui sûr, Yeah, sure; yeah, right.
Père, (m) father, Mon père, my father.
Père de sang, (m) blood-father; male vampire who has turned another and become their “parent.”
Peut-être, maybe, perhaps.
Potete andare diritto ad inferno, (Italian) You can go straight to hell.
P’tit, mon, (m) my little one, (f) p’tite, ma. (Generally affectionate.)
Quitte moi tranquille, leave me alone.
Sì, (Italian) yes.
Tais toi, shut up.
Tayeau, (s) hound. Tayeoux, (pl) hounds
T’es sûr de sa? are you sure about that? T’es sûr? you sure?
Toujours, always.
Tout de suite, right away.
Très, very.
Très joli, (m) very pretty.
True Blood, born vampire, rare and powerful.
Une main lave l’autre, one good turn deserves another.
Va t’cacher, go to hell.
Wybrcathl (OOEEBR-cathl), sky-song. Fallen/Elohim word.
Caterina’s lullaby: Fi la nana, e mi bel fiol/ Fi la nana, e mi bel fiol/ Fa si la nana/ Fa si la nana/ Dormi ben, e mi bel fiol/ Dormi ben, e mi bel fiol . . .
Hush-a-bye, my lovely child/ Hush-a-bye, my lovely child/ Hush, hush and go to sleep/ Hush, hush and go to sleep/ Sleep well, my lovely child/ Sleep well, my lovely child . . . —Traditional Italian lullaby in an old dialect.
1
DIRTY BUSINESS
NEW ORLEANS
CLUB HELL
March 30
“HEY, PUMPKIN.”
Just two simple words spoken into air fragrant with the homey scents of toast and cantaloupe, yet they fractured the club’s late-morning peace and iced Heather Wallace’s spine.
Never expected to see him in New Orleans, let alone Club Hell. Did he come on his own or did the Bureau send him?
Heather finished rinsing her plate in the sink behind the bar, turned off the water, then, pulse pounding, swiveled around to face her father. The weight of the Colt snugged into the back of her jeans did little to comfort her.
Special Agent James William Wallace stood in the entrance beneath the neon BURN sign, red light winking from the lenses of his glasses and gliding along the shoulders of his tan trench coat. Shadows cast by the dim overheads hollowed his cheeks, making him look older than his fifty-seven years.
The last time Heather had seen her father had been at the FBI field office in Seattle, where he’d tried to convince her to abandon the truth and sell her soul to the Bureau, and where Heather had also learned that the lying bastard had used Annie to spy on her, promising his long-ignored bipolar daughter that they’d be a family once more.
Of course, Annie hadn’t known he’d sell Heather’s secrets. Or that he’d lied.
But Alexander Lyons had known, and had shared the information with Heather before he’d held her at gunpoint, before he’d triggered Dante’s programming, before Dante had remade him into something . . . else.
Your dad contacted a member of the Shadow Branch and told this person that Dante Baptiste saved your life without using his blood. So the SB decided to bring you in for tests to determine what he did to you
and how.
“Whose dirty business are you doing today?” Heather asked, wiping her hands dry against her jeans. “The Bureau’s or your own?”
“The traditional greeting is still ‘Hello, good to see you,’ I believe,” James Wallace replied. A sardonic smile slanted his lips. His gaze slid past Heather. “I admit, I’m disappointed in you, Annie,” he said.
The cold icing Heather’s spine deepened. She turned her head to look at her sister. Wearing a fuzzy purple bathrobe, her blue-black-purple-colored tresses bed-mussed and pointing in all directions, Annie sat perched on a stool at the polished counter, her blue eyes wide with shock. She lowered her cream cheese–slathered bagel from her mouth. “How the fuck did you get in?” she asked.
“Well, given that you didn’t leave the door unlocked like I asked, I had to find my own solution,” James Wallace chided, his tone a wagging naughty-naughty finger.
Heather stiffened. “You called him?”
Mingled guilt and defiance flashed across Annie’s face. “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. Fuck.” She looked down at her bagel, then pushed the plate away. She seemed to find the bar’s surface suddenly fascinating.
“Jesus Christ! He asked you to unlock the door and you didn’t tell me?” Heather stared at her sister, her pulse pounding at her temples. “Didn’t tell any of us? What the hell were you thinking?” She slapped both palms down on the counter in front of Annie’s shoved-away plate. The abrupt, harsh sound echoed throughout the club. “Look at me, dammit!”
Annie lifted her gaze. Defiance had won the war over guilt in her blue eyes. “But I didn’t unlock the door,” she protested, “so I thought that ended it. I only called him to let him know we were okay. In case he was worried or something.”
“Dammit, Annie. Shit.” Anger Heather didn’t have time for—not now, but later, oh, hell yes, we’re going to have it out—burned a hole in her gut. She blew out a frustrated breath, then looked at their father. “Trust me, he wasn’t worried,” she said, voice grim.
Etched in Bone Page 1
