Blood Red Kiss

by Kresley Cole

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Group hug!

  Writing ensues for 7.5 minutes . . .

  GYNA [DogMom]: So how did y’all’s (yep, it’s a word) editing process go? I don’t know how many times McKraken has asked me if I 1) wrote while on crack and 2) should just start over. JK! I know how many times. Every time. All the books. (What I reeeally hate to admit? She was right. About #2! Only #2!)

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Poor Lauren. When she gets my manuscripts, they’re full of comments like “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this!” I basically send an editorial letter along with the story . . . she has got to wonder if Gyna is sharing her crack with me. (She’s not. I have to make do with coffee. Ooh, we need a coffee sponsor on the tour bus. I’ll make a formal request.)

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Larissa, you told me about that reverse editorial letter at the RT convention—I love it! I’m doing it on my next book. I won’t tell Lauren where I got the idea, though. She’ll never find out from me.

  GYNA [DogMom]: How’d you handle editing for a reissue, K?

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Just between us . . . I made more than twelve thousand tweaks to the story since the first time it was released in trade paperback. The story is the same, but I think the delivery is much smoother now.

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Holy crap, KC! We’ll have to honor your hard work somehow. I’m sure we can do that with alcohol. And chocolate. Hot dudes. The possibilities are endless!

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: How about hot dudes covered in alcohol and chocolate? I predict a new trend!

  Writing for 15 minutes . . .

  GYNA [DogMom]: So, I was recently asked to describe Dark Swan/Otherworld Assassins series in three words or less. I’m thinking: Aliens Get Freaky. But really, I’d rather describe the story in six words: Bring Your Climax to Work Day. How would you guys describe your story in BRK?

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Do Wolves Sh*t in the Woods? Okay, wait. There are vampires in this story too. How about: A Hot Vampire Meets Furry Wolf. Hmm, nope. I think I’m conveying the wrong message here. Third try’s a charm. Shape-Shifter Vampires: Always Sexy, Sometimes Inappropriate.

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: My series in six words: Immortals doing dirty deeds after dark. For The Warlord: Sexy Alpha Vampire Learns His Lesson. Or Gorgeous Valkyrie Gets Her World Rocked. This is fun—like freeballing haiku. One more about The Warlord: The Love Scenes Are Beyond Dirty.

  Writing for several hours . . .

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Arghhhh. It’s the middle of the night here. You guys up? Pretty sure my ass fell asleep in the writing chair. Taking a coffee break, gearing up for an all-nighter. What’s your hardest deadline ever?

  GYNA [DogMom]: I once had 21/2 weeks to rewrite an entire book (read: weave my “written on crack?” crapperpiece into solid gold). After vomiting blood, I got that baby done!

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: My answer is similar to Gyna’s. I once had to rewrite an entire book (and I mean, the ENTIRE book—I only saved the prologue) in three weeks . . . while in the middle of a cross-country move. My husband drove, so I spent the drive with my computer in my lap and my fingers typing like mad for the entire trip. Then I sat on boxes and wrote while the movers unpacked. What’s yours?

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: They’re all pretty bad. Hee, funny story . . . My agent once called after I’d been awake for two days, carefully measuring my coffee intake against my Pepto-Bismol/Zantac consumption (balancing this potion is a science AND an art). I was fried. She asked me how I stay up so long. I answered, “I. AM. A. SORCERESS!” She said, “Well. Um, okay, so what are you working on now?” My reply: “SORCERY!”

  —Radio silence—

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Hellooooo? TMI?

  GYNA [DogMom]: Uh, no, that sounds totally normal. I tend to call my fur family—and everyone around me—by character names. “Dallas! Lilica! Stop licking Mommy’s leg!”

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Scratching coffee sponsor off bus tour.

  An hour later . . .

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: I just got through writing a love scene and the characters shocked even me with their wanton demonic sex. What’s the naughtiest thing your current hero does?

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: The naughtiest thing? Ah . . . well . . . remember the furry wolf thing above? I might have been conveying the right message after all. . . .

  GYNA [DogMom]: I think my hero’s middle name is Naughty. He does this thing with his mouth . . . and he’s really good at dishing punishment. You know, his method of choice is that tongue-lashing EVERY WOMAN fears. Tell me your favorite line for your BRK novella.

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: The dreaded, dreaded tongue-lashing. Fav line? When Nikolai and Myst (pet name Milaya) consummate their relationship, and she thinks he’s about to order her to [expletive deleted]. Instead he simply says, “Milaya . . . I want you so much.”

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: From Forsaken by Night: “I’m not leaving you.” Tehya’s hot breath whispered across his ear, and his groin tightened. “I’d rather die with you than die alone.” What’s yours, Gyna?

  GYNA [DogMom]: From Dark Swan: His smile bloomed, slow and deliberate. “I may not have something you want, sweetness, but I have something you need.”

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: ::WANT&NEED:: What’s your favorite line from your upcoming or current book? Mine is from The Player: He leveled his spellbinding gaze on my face. “When you’ve been in the dark as long as I have, moy ángel, there is no mistaking the light.”

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Thud. From Rising Storm: Season 2, Episode 2: Ian’s gaze locked on her, and his voice went low, vibrating her in places that hadn’t been vibrated in a long time. “What about you, Marisol? Would you like to see what Montana has to offer?”

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Can we just talk about the verb *to vibrate*? I’m officially a fan. Give us a line, Gyna!

  GYNA [DogMom]: ::Vibrating:: From The Darkest Promise (Cameo’s story): “I will find you,” he said, as much a sensual promise as a brutal warning. “I will always find you.”

  GYNA [DogMom]: Okay, now for the most important question of all: What’s your favorite Gena Showalter novel, besides all of them?

  —Simultaneous— KCOLE [Khaleesi]: All of them. LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: All of them.

  Next morning before writing . . .

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Grunt. Bleary. Grunt. Okay, just between us, tell me a secret nobody knows about your series and when you do, that will mean we’re married.

  GYNA [DogMom]: Aren’t you adorable? We’ve been married for years, KC. Years! Ever since I first hid in the bushes outside your window with my Nikon. (Larissa—any interest in being my sisterwife?)

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Years and years, my lovely Gyna. As soon as I hit send on that previous text, I was embarrassed. The union between Gyna Cowalter and KresLAY Cowalter is etched in stone. And we’re totally open, Ione. We could be the Conewalters! (But you’re not getting out of secret, G!)

  GYNA [DogMom]: An Otherworld Assassins secret . . . I recently sat down and interviewed character John No Last Name. I asked him if he wanted to kill me for not giving him a definite happy ending. His reply? “I’ve finally found someone I want. You will live, and you will give her to me.” Uh, demanding much?

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: ::shivers:: John No Last Name sounds . . . intriguing. So about this marriage proposal thing. Do we have three rings? One to rule them all? (OMG, I’m such a nerd.)

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Yes and yes! G, officially calling John No Last Name as my book boyfriend for all time. Ione, you’re so not getting out of your secret either.

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: Well, there’s a spy inside my series, but I can’t reveal that secret yet. I just get to tease you with it for another book or two! What’s yours, KC?

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: Hmm. Most folks think Myst and Nikolai were the first characters I came up with for the IAD. Actually, Regin was the first IAD character I ever invented. I also added secrets in a Q&A after my story. . . . Sigh. Do you think we should go write now? Or something? It’s all fun and games until Bowen loses an eye.<
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  GYNA [DogMom]: No! Stay here and cuddle me! Fine. (grumble, grumble) I’m writing the next Lords of the Underworld novel, and I left Cameo in a very . . . sweaty situation. She’s going to spontaneously combust if I don’t return.

  LARISSA [IoneUrSoul]: We have to write now? Well, I suppose I should do something about that spy secret I mentioned. They don’t just “out” themselves, you know.

  One minute later . . .

  KCOLE [Khaleesi]: OMG, my cat did the funniest thing . . .

  FORSAKEN BY NIGHT

  Larissa Ione

  1

  Somewhere outside Lobo’s cabin, a lone shot rang out.

  A hunter, probably. Or a poacher. Either way, he was going to check it out. He investigated all gunshots, a habit left over from his life at MoonBound clan, when he’d been part of the security detail.

  Now, as an outcast, he still patrolled Washington’s damp state forests, avoiding MoonBound warriors as best he could. For the most part, they avoided him too. And who could blame them? He was damaged goods and, as far as their chief, Hunter, was concerned, a traitor as well.

  Hunter was also a huge asshole.

  Lobo looked over at the sleek silver wolf lying on the rug in front of the woodstove. She wagged her tail, her ears perking when, in the distance, wolves howled into the twilight, their songs joining a symphony of hooting owls, screeching jays, and chittering squirrels that didn’t seem to be bothered by the gunfire at all.

  “You wanna go see what’s out there, Tehya?”

  She jumped up and rushed to the door, nearly knocking him over in her excitement. Once outside, she slipped away into the brush, disappearing like a ghost as he started jogging in the direction the shot had come from. He didn’t worry about her; she’d catch up eventually.

  He stopped atop a rocky ridge to search for signs of human activity in the thousands of acres of Pacific Northwest forest he called home. A welcome breeze blew in from the north and he lifted his face into it, letting it chase away the day’s spring heat like a cougar sprinting after a herd of elk.

  As a vampire, Lobo didn’t feel heat and cold the way humans did. His body was designed to tolerate temperature extremes that would kill wimpy-ass humans. Not that the weather was a concern at this time of year. No, the concern, as always, was that humans were hunting the creatures that lived in the forest.

  And that included vampires.

  And wolves.

  Reaching out with his mind—a talent forbidden by most vampire clans—he located the closest pack. As far as he knew, the wolves couldn’t feel him the same way he felt them, and unless they were within a hundred yards or so, he couldn’t communicate with them either. But once he connected with a wolf face-to-face, he could locate it with his mind in a matter of seconds no matter how far away it was.

  He mentally counted the members of what he knew as the Sequoia pack; satisfied that they were all accounted for and hadn’t been poached, he let them go and started off again.

  He hadn’t gone more than a couple of hundred yards when Tehya’s presence prickled his skin and whispered through his mind like the soft rustle of leaves on the ground.

  She was unique, this wolf, an individual the likes of which he’d never encountered in his nearly hundred and twenty years of life. He pivoted as she stepped out of the brush.

  The instant her intense yellow eyes met his, an image flashed in his head, something that had happened once or twice a day for the last twelve years. The image was always the same: a tall, willowy vampire with dark shoulder-length hair and yellow-amber eyes. She was beautiful. Mysterious. And always naked.

  “You know,” he said softly, “I really wish you could tell me about this woman you keep projecting into my brain.”

  Tehya stepped closer, her huge paws landing silently on the soft ground, her powerful shoulders rolling. Another image of the woman popped into his head. She was walking toward him, her gemstone eyes holding him captive as her long, bare legs covered the distance between them.

  Perspiration coated his palms, and he found himself actually reaching for her, curious to learn if that skin was as soft as it looked.

  Then the image was gone, and Tehya’s tail was wagging, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she bounded toward him in big, goofy hops, wanting to run and play. Mystery woman forgotten, he braced himself for impact, and a heartbeat later, wolf paws the size of his hands slammed into his chest as Tehya bathed his face with her tongue.

  Laughing, he ruffled his fingers through her fur and scritched behind her big ears. Sweet Maker, he loved this girl. She’d come to him at the lowest point of his life, when he’d realized he had nothing to live for.

  Nearly dead when he found her, she was so weak from starvation that she couldn’t stand. She’d been covered in ice and wounds, likely from other wolves or coyotes, and for days he’d wondered whether it would have been kinder to put her out of her misery instead of nurse her back to health.

  But she’d survived, and it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that she wasn’t . . . normal. For a while he thought she might be a skinwalker like himself, able to shift form into that of an animal.

  It would explain why, even though she was at least twelve years old, she possessed the physique and energy of a yearling wolf. The problem with that particular theory was that, as far as he knew, skinwalkers couldn’t remain in animal form for more than a few hours. Not even Lobo, who was an extremely powerful skinwalker, perhaps the most powerful ever to have existed, could maintain a morph for more than a day, and even then the form he chose had a lot to do with how long he could remain in the transformed body.

  There was, he supposed, another explanation for Tehya’s uniqueness and the image of the woman. Within the dank underground walls of MoonBound headquarters, he’d been an orphan raised on tales of vampires whose totem animals could take physical form, and it was said that the vampire who was linked to the animal could communicate through it. If so, and Tehya was one of these physical totem animals, her vampire counterpart could be anywhere in the world.

  She might even be a slave in some human’s household.

  The idea that the female Tehya projected into his mind was a slave made him snarl viciously enough for Tehya to back away, her ears drooping.

  “That wasn’t for you,” he said, giving her another ruffle on the head.

  Transgression forgiven, she wagged her tail and bowed playfully, doing her best to entice him into a run.

  What the hell. They could run while he searched for whoever had fired the weapon.

  Grinning, he closed his eyes and concentrated, and a moment later the familiar burn of his muscles stretching and contracting began. Pain racked him and blackness stole his vision as his bones broke and reformed and his skin sprouted fur. Gradually the pain faded, and he opened his canine eyes to find a different view of the world.

  Tehya nipped his furry shoulder and took off at full speed, ears pinned to her skull, tail streaming behind her. Reveling in his black-furred wolf body, he chased after her, his tail high, his giant paws digging into the soft, moist earth.

  Elation sang through him. This was what he lived for. The sheer joy of the wind in his face and a friend to keep him company.

  It would be even better if I had a female two-legged friend too.

  He stumbled like a cub learning to use its legs, and he swore Tehya laughed. As she should. He wasn’t cut out to be with other people, and he had no business having those kinds of thoughts. He was too dangerous, and no one let him forget that.

  Tehya slowed to snatch up a stick to tease him with, and after a few playful attempts to take the stick from her, he let go of his regrets and surrendered to the simple life he’d learned to love since Tehya entered his world as an emaciated, half-frozen wretch more than a decade ago.

  They ran for miles, chasing deer and rabbits along the way to find the shooter, and once he had to plunge into a river to avoid a grumpy black bear sow with cubs. Tehya went in the opposite direction
, and as he pulled himself out of the stream, her howl, maybe half a mile away, rose up into the darkening sky.

  He shook the water out of his fur and started trotting in her direction, but as he cut through a valley that had recently been the site of a massive battle among three vampire clans and humans, another gunshot shattered the air. A gut-wrenching howl of pain cut through the forest, freezing him in his tracks.

  Tehya.

  Terror turned Lobo’s marrow to jelly as he morphed back into his vampire form and sprinted in a mad rush through the trees, smashing through branches and leaping fallen logs and low-lying gullies. The sickening, metallic tang of wolf blood hit him even before the stench of the human who had fired the gun.

  He burst over a ridge, and there, writhing in a rapidly expanding pool of blood, was Tehya, her hip blown open, bone and flesh spilling out through the ragged wound. And standing a few feet away, a man was taking a picture of his handiwork as the wolf flailed in agony.

  A fucking picture.

  What kind of sick asshole allowed an animal to suffer? And took photos of it?

  With a roar of white-hot rage, Lobo slammed into the poacher, knocking him into a tree with so much force that he heard the crack of both wood and bone before the guy crumpled, unconscious, to the ground.

  Unwilling to waste even the fraction of a second it would take to kill the scumbag, Lobo rushed over to Tehya. His heart clenched at the fear and pain swimming in her soulful eyes. Her chest rose and fell with her uneven, shallow breaths, and blood bubbled from her mouth.

  “No,” he whispered. “Sweet Maker, no.”

  She’d been the light in his life for the last twelve years, the reason he’d gone from merely existing to living. The reason loneliness hadn’t been the catalyst for a swan dive off the nearest cliff. He had to save her.

  But it wasn’t as if there was a veterinarian hanging out over the next hill. The nearest town between here and Seattle was still at least an hour away at top speed. Carrying Tehya’s hundred pounds of dead weight would slow him considerably, and he didn’t think she’d survive the trip even if he could fly. And even if by some miracle a veterinarian could save her, he had little money. He got his food, clothing, and other necessities by trading venison, fish, or handmade bows and arrows.