by J. D. Brown
Jalmari hesitated as I gave a face to my inner monster. My skull cracked apart and reformed in record speed. My jaw elongated and my ears moved upward. Fur sprouted from my skin. I looked like a nightmare-ish combination of Anubis and Isis. Jalmari gasped in disbelief. The scent of fear rolled off him in waves. I took advantage of his faltering and snapped my jaws around his shoulder and flung him into the air. He smacked into the outer side wall of the barn and fell to the ground.
The Alpan soldiers flooded the area and circled him. One of the soldiers aimed a taser gun at Jalmari’s thigh and fired. Jalmari convulsed as the current took control of his nervous system. I cringed at the sight, but couldn’t help yipping in excitement over the victory. Took them long enough!
I lowered—shifting my head and arms back into their normal vampyre form—until the soles of my sneakers touched the grass. Then I raised my hands into the air, palms forward, to show I was done fighting and they could gladly take over.
“Th-this… isn’t… over,” Jalmari sputtered. “You will… die… rat.”
The current from the taser finished its round and a second soldier strapped a pair of electronic cuffs to Jalmari’s wrists and ankles. I’ve been on the receiving end of those cuffs before, and I almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
“I think you’re wrong, leech.”
Jalmari growled, but he couldn’t cause any more harm with a dozen taser guns pointed at him. The adrenaline in my system ebbed, replaced by the burning ache in my neck. But something far more important pushed to the forefront of my mind.
Jesu.
Also by J.D. Brown
Athena’s Oracle
(An Ema Marx Novel 0.5)
Dark Heirloom
(An Ema Marx Novel 1)
Dark Liaison
(An Ema Marx Novel 2)
Dark Becoming
(An Ema Marx Novel 3)
About the Author
J.D. Brown knows that vampires exist because she’s dating one, and no, he doesn’t sparkle. Unfortunately, he’s not immortal either. A magnet for subcultures and weirdness, J.D. was that socially awkward girl with more fictional friends than real ones. As a child battling a hearing loss and Muckle-Wells Syndrome, J.D. found comfort in books where strong women always saved the day and got the guy. An obsession with Charmed, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer led J.D. to believe that her mutated chromosome made her something more, not something less. Thus her stubborn flare to persevere was born. A lover of fine cuisine, coffee, and shoes, J.D. never understood why shoe stores don’t serve Starbucks and soufflé. She resides in Wisconsin were she writes urban fantasy—aka vampires for adults—and has political debates with her dogs.
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Twitter.com/authorjdbrown
Amazon.com/author/jdbrown
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