Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2011 Shannan Albright
ISBN: 978-1-926950-36-5
Cover Artist: LF Designs
Editor: Hannah Giersdorf
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
I wish to take a moment to thank Evernight Publishing who took a chance on an unknown writer. To my wonderful and very talented editor Hannah Giersdorf, thank you for all your wonderful suggestions and gentle nudges. You made the editing process much less painful than it could have been.
I would like to thank Gypsy Winslow who kept me from the ledge so many times while writing this book. Susan Sanders whose belief in me never wavered even once, Wendy and Elise who never doubted this would be published and to my husband Curt whose love and understanding know no bounds. And last but not least to all the supportive and talented authors of Evernight Publishing. You ladies Rock!
Thank you all!
DARK PASSION RISING
Shannan Albright
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
Shadows clung to the alley walls like rancid oil. The smell of decaying garbage and unwashed bodies clogged Tambra Ellis’s nose, making her gag as she carefully moved deeper into the alley, swinging her flashlight in front of her while her other hand rested on the butt of her holstered gun. A hot wind howled through the dark alley, a sudden mighty gust swirling the debris around her feet. The skittering sound of papers and dead leaves was the only thing to be heard.
Where the hell had that perp gone? Tambra opened a channel on her radio.
“Do you have anything, Cody?” Only static answered her, echoing down the alley. “Cody, do you copy?”
Nothing.
Muttering a string of curses, Tambra crept into the black shadows that crowded her on both sides, making her feel a touch claustrophobic. Being in the bad part of Las Vegas was dangerous enough, being one of Metro’s finest was like putting a target on your back.
She hadn’t survived being a beat cop for five years without learning a little about keeping herself alive. She knew the fact she couldn’t raise her partner, plus the disappearance of the perp they were tracking didn’t stack the odds in her favor. And this city was all about the odds.
She heard a shuffling noise up ahead and her hand tightened on her service revolver. “Cody, is that you? Stop being an asshole and just come out or I’ll have to shoot your sorry ass,” Tambra growled, pointing the flashlight toward the far side of the alleyway.
A dark shape moved just outside the weak yellow beam of her flashlight and a shift in the wind blew the pungent odor of wet dog toward her. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and a shiver of revulsion skated over her skin.
She knew it was silly that something as harmless as a dog could make her so uncomfortable, but she had never been able to shake her unease with man’s best friend. She could remember how her father used to tease her about it when he was still alive.
Tambra blew out a frustrated breath.
“Ok, Fido. Be a good doggie and go. Scram. Beat it.” She raised her voice in the hopes of scaring the thing off. She was going to kill Cody when she saw him. It was just like him to leave her to get rid of the mangy thing and laugh at her the whole time.
Gritting her teeth in irritation, she aimed her flashlight on the dark shadow and frowned. The shape seemed bulkier, broader in the shoulders than before.
“What the hell?” she whispered as she watched the shadow rise up on two powerful legs. It stood least seven feet tall. As it turned toward her, she saw luminous yellow eyes glinting back at her. In that moment Tambra knew what it felt like to be prey.
She took a slow step back, then another. She inched her way back to the mouth of the alley, her gaze riveted on the thing still caught in her light beam. Her mind screamed for her to run, but she stood rooted to the spot, instinctively knowing that if she turned her back and ran the monster would catch her and she would not be able to defend herself. She needed to keep calm, to not show the fear that was making her heart pound in her chest.
She watched with a sense of fascinated dread as the thing stepped toward her. Wicked, curved claws jutted out from its fingertips, its arms long and muscular. The chest was massive, widening even further with each deep breath. Its legs were as big as tree trunks, and thick dark fur covered its body.
But it was the head of the creature, somewhere between a wolf and a man, which truly terrified her. Its nose was elongated into a snout full of pointed teeth and dripping saliva. Its ears were laid back on its head and blood glistened wetly on its muzzle and claws. Hysteria threatened to swamp Tambra. The urge to run was overpowering. She desperately needed something to focus on before she became lost in madness.
An image of Cody, lying broken and lifeless, filled her mind, giving her the focus she needed. The sharp prick of rage stung her and she embraced it. She focused on that anger to calm herself, leaving her once again in control.
“What the hell did you do with my partner, you freak?” Tambra spat, pulling her gun out with a steady hand. She aimed for the heart, or at least where she thought the heart would be on the beast. “I don’t have any silver bullets on me, but I’m willing to bet that these will still hurt!”
A low, rasping chuckle came from the beast, lips curving up in a parody of a smile. It spoke with a deep and distorted voice.
“So much spirit! I’m going enjoy this. The last one was such a disappointment.”
“You’ll die for that, bastard,” Tambra shouted and pulled the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot shattered the quiet of the night, echoing off the alleyway walls. Tambra shook her head in disbelief as the beast dodged the bullet, moving in a blur of speed.Suddenly he was on her, his claws swiping the flashlight and the gun from her nerveless fingers, ripping into fabric and flesh. He gripped her throat in his hands and shoved her against the rough brick. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes as her head crashed into the wall. Strong fingers squeezed her windpipe, making breathing next to impossible. She clawed at those fingers in a futile bid for freedom, her legs kicking out in an attempt to make contact with the monster’s body. The rank odor of rotting meat threatened to gag her.
“My, how delightful. I do so enjoy a good fight. It makes things much more…satisfying don’t you think?” the beast rasped.
“Then this is your lucky day, asshole,” Tambra choked out as his fingers tightened on her throat.
She swiped at his face with her nails, leaving deep, bleeding grooves across his furry cheeks. His hand on her throat loosened enough for her to jerk herself free of his hold, she flung herself back and to the side, pulling great gulps of air into her starved lungs.
The reprieve was short lived. The monster sprang at her again, claws slicing across her stomach. She heard a scream echo off the walls of the alley and was dimly surprised when she realized it was her own. Another swipe of those lethal claws laid her right thigh open and she went down hard on the debris littered ground.
As she looked up at those cold yellow eyes, she realized she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was no match for the savage strength of the beast towering above her, but she sure as hell was not going down quietly. Hands sticky with her own blood, Tambra gr
oped through the litter around her, looking for something, anything, she could use as a weapon.
Her hand brushed against something hard and she gripped it like a lifeline. Splinters sliced into her palm and fingers as she tightened her grip on the piece of wood.
Now, if only she could get him closer. She knew she was in no shape to meet him head on. She had to rely on her brain and hope it would be enough.
“You want a piece of me? Come and get it,” she ground out hoarsely, her throat on fire from his chokehold on her. With a low growl he lunged, jaws open, giving her a view of long sharp canines as they aimed for her throat.
She swung her makeshift club hard against his head, knocking him off balance. He crashed to the ground with a grunt of pain. She struggled to her feet, gritted her teeth together against a wave of dizziness, and brought her weapon down again and again, not stopping her assault until the beast lay still beneath her feet with a dark pool of blood spreading out underneath his head.
Her knees buckled as she turned toward the back of the alley. The pain hit her with the force of a semi and her legs gave out on her. She landed hard on her side on the filthy ground. Her eyes locked onto the huddled form a few feet from her.
“Please not Cody. Please, please, God, don’t be Cody!” she chanted over and over in her head as she half dragged, half crawled her way toward the bloody body lying with his back to her. With shaking hands, she grasped a shoulder and pulled him to his back. She nearly wept with relief that the face sightlessly staring up at the sky was the perp she had been chasing, not her partner and dearest friend.
She struggled to her feet and fell against the wall, biting back a cry of agony as white hot fire shot though her lacerated belly to her thigh, where blood was pulsing quickly from the long gash in her skin. She knew she was losing too much blood by the way her vision wavered. She needed to call for back up then get herself stitched up at the nearest ER.
Leaning on the wall for support, she inched her way to the street, still wondering where the hell Cody was. She couldn’t radio for him since she had lost her radio, along with her gun and flashlight, when she had fought the monster, and she was not about to go back and find any of those things when she didn’t know if she had killed the beast or not.
Monster? Oh yeah, that would go over well. ‘Sorry about the mess, Captain. I had a run in with a monster. But hey, it could have been worse, at least there were no dragons to slay.’
That would really get her a first class ticket to the Looney Bin. She wouldn’t have believed it herself, but unfortunately she had the wounds to prove it, and a dead and mangled body to emphasize the point. She looked up and down the deserted street. Still no sign of Cody. But also no blood, so she figured he was fine, which didn’t explain what had happened to him.
A scraping sound came from behind her and she slowly turned, keeping her hand on the wall for balance. She found herself looking up into the enraged yellow eyes of the beast.
Saliva dripped from his opened jaws, drawn up in a snarl. He was on her as quick as lighting. Sharp canines sank into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Piercing, white hot agony shot through her system, lighting up every nerve ending in her body as his teeth sank deep, penetrating muscle and scraping bone. A scream tore out of her already abused throat, and her world narrowed to only the slashing pain in her neck.
Chapter Two
Marcus Valerian paused amid the press of humanity on the Fremont Street Experience. Garish neon lights flashed above him on the white metal canopy above, a swirl of colors coalescing into the image of the American flag. The noise of the music, drowning the babble of voices around him, was deafening to his sensitive hearing. He took a deep breath and found what he was searching for: the barest hint of Lycan musk. Moving quickly through the throng, he turned onto a deserted side street where the barrage that assaulted his senses calmed. Darkened office buildings and store fronts lined the street, closed and locked up tight. Long shadows claimed the sidewalks and alleys, dispersed occasionally by the pooling light of a street lamp or traffic light. The silence fell heavily, like a thick blanket. Marcus breathed deeply again, letting the scent lead him. The combination of heavy musk and the metallic tang of blood filled the air around him.
Marcus gritted his teeth at the smell of blood, anger surging through him. He was too late to save a human from slaughter. Another senseless death to add to the ever-growing tally. There had been far too many in recent months. More Breeds were going feral, stretching Marcus’s small group of Enforcers far too thin, and they still had no clue as to why.
If this continued, the Breeds would be exposed to the human world and, after millennia spent hidden, discovery was not an option. True, every once in a while one of his kind had been spotted. That was how the tales of werewolves, vampires, and the fae had gotten started. But it was Marcus’s job as an Enforcer to make sure no hard evidence ever came to light to support those tales.
His orders came from a group called the Tribunal, the ruling body that kept the balance, made the laws, and handed down the punishments that Marcus, and others like him, enforced all over the world. In the eleven centuries he had worked as an Enforcer, Marcus had never seen anything quite like what he was up against now. The claim of a rampant virus striking his fellow Breeds just rang false. There was something more going on. Ferals seemed to be targeting the human population, women in particular. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
They needed to capture a feral Breed for study and interrogation, but so far every Breed they had cornered had taken his own life before letting the Enforcers capture him alive, and every autopsy had shown nothing out of the ordinary. They were at a standstill. The only course of action was to patrol and try to minimize the damage.
Unfortunately, that had not been so effective.
The smell of blood thickened in the air as Marcus neared a particularly dark stretch of street. Hunger punched him in the gut, and his fangs throbbed painfully. He had been so focused on getting out to patrol he hadn’t eaten properly and now he had this additional distraction to contend with. With a deep breath, he wrestled control of his desire to feed and eyed the opening of another alley. The smell of blood and Lycan was strong on the wind.
A figure lurched out of the alley and Marcus quickly merged with the darkness, becoming part of the shadows around him. The form was female, he could tell even through the unflattering uniform she wore. He swore under his breath. Wonderful, a cop. That was all he needed to make this night go from bad to worse. He could smell the blood from her wounds. She was close to collapsing from her injuries. Marcus was amazed she was still standing.
As Marcus debated how best to untangle the mess before him, the large shape of a Lycan suddenly moved up behind the staggering woman, threw her slight form into the brick wall, and bit into her neck. Marcus propelled himself forward, eating the distance between himself and the attacking Lycan in a matter of seconds. Marcus slammed his shoulder into the Lycan, sending him flying into the alley wall so hard that bricks cracked under the force of impact.
He helped the woman sit and propped her against the wall, but had no time to check her injuries, focusing his attention upon the irate Lycan rising menacingly from the ground. Marcus moved himself into position, readying for the inevitable battle. He recognized the Lycan as a Pure Blood, known for being egomaniacal and cruel. Perhaps, if he could keep the Lycan talking, Marcus’s luck could change.
“Don’t you know the rules, dog? Rule One: You do not eat humans. Rule Two: keep a low profile so you won’t tip the human law enforcement to our existence,” Marcus lectured as if speaking to a slow child. “If you are unsure whether it’s an officer of the peace, review Rule One.”
“Well, well. If it isn’t the Tribunal’s number one boy scout. Tell me, how goes the war, Leech?”
“I didn’t know we were at war, perhaps you can enlighten me.” Marcus shrugged his shoulders with an air of nonchalance he was far from feeling. The prospect of war between th
e Breeds made his gut clench. That would mean extinction, there were far too few of them already, and if the human world ever found out the truth of their existence they wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of surviving.
“You are Oren, am I correct?” When he got no response but a snarling growl, Marcus went on, his deep voice deceptively soft. “Does Fox know of your…activities? Or do you think your Pure Blood status excludes you from Tribunal Law?”
“Fuck your law, Leech. Your time as an Enforcer for the Tribunal is coming to an end. Your precious laws won’t be worth the paper they’re printed on. Not that it will matter much- you will be dead, along with our fool of a leader Temple Fox.”
Oren’s attack was swift. One moment Oren was standing in front of Marcus, the next he was at his back, pinning Marcus’s arms to his sides, his muscular arms wrapped around Marcus’s chest with crushing force.
“It’s time to die, Leech,” Oren growled next to Marcus’s ear as his arms tightened, restricting Marcus’s breathing.
Marcus threw his head back, connecting with Oren’s jaw with brutal force. The Lycan loosened his grip, only slightly, but it was enough for Marcus to jab his elbow into his stomach. The force of the blow freed him from the Lycan’s bruising hold and allowed him to place a few feet between them. Crouching low, he waited for Oren’s next attack.
“You have to do better than that if you want to kill me,” he taunted, waiting patiently for his next move.
With a low, menacing snarl Oren lunged forward, his claws aimed for Marcus’s throat, gaping jaws poised to tear into him. Marcus was prepared this time. He blocked Oren’s attack by ducking low, then used his shoulder to lunge into the Lycan’s stomach, hurling Oren over his head and toward the ground with a resounding thud. Marcus reached into one of the pockets of his black camouflage pants and pulled out a taser.
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