“Whatever you once were, you’re different now. So you look the same on the outside, scary teeth and big horns. Inside, you’re something else. Inside, you’re a good man. You have to forgive yourself. That’s the first step on the road to absolution.” Mae refused to let go when he tried to tear away from her again. “You’re a good man, and I love you.”
The Marquis fell forward, head on her lap. His sobs shook his body as she stroked his head. He loved her more than anything. He thought it might drive him insane to know she truly loved him in return. His heart swelled and brought on tears of another sort. All his years, even those in Carmine, he’d never thought there was more for him. Never thought he was deserving. Now there was that beautiful pinprick of hope.
With Mae, anything was possible.
He sat, trembling more than he’d like to admit, and cupped her face. “I love you too.”
When he kissed her, it wasn’t with fangs or a muzzle. It wasn’t with the fires of Hell searing through his body. It was with soft lips and the tickle of his last few whiskers. A tender passion full of promise.
“My hero,” Marc murmured as he smiled against her mouth. Supple and sweet. More tender than her best baked pie.
The morning sun peeked out with pinks and golds. He could almost feel the warmth of those rays.
“Kiral!” Marc was fast on his feet. Was there still time to save his friend?
Mae clasped one of his hands with both of hers, an expression that seemed to be a mixture of confusion and fear. He refused to let go or force her to do so.
“My friend. Vetis left him chained to the roof. The sun will kill him.” Knowing she couldn’t run as quickly as he, Marc tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted to the building. The front door was busted, and with no electricity, he had to take the stairs.
Desperation fueled him, and Mae complained not once of the bumpy ride nor did she question why they had to dash to save Kiral. Once at the top of the stairs, he set her down and stared at the door to the roof which was sitting slightly ajar. Marc shouldered his way out and onto the gravelly roof.
Chains, but no vampire.
He made a quick search of the roof and ventilation unit, which sat in the center, but Kiral wasn’t there. His shoulders shook. He couldn’t even tell if he was laughing or crying.
“He’s not here?” Mae crept out, resting a hand on his back.
“No.” Marc wrapped an arm around her. “Vetis was lying.” Except it hadn’t been something he had believed the bastard to lie about. But there was no vampire, alive or dead, on the roof. If Kiral was as clever as he believed him, he got away if he was caught.
Yes, nothing was going to ruin this moment. His friend escaped and the woman he loved was snuggled against him.
Carmine’s charred heart still beat. Below, the fountain burbled quietly. No angel on top, but no flame either.
EPILOGUE
“No sugar? And it’s your third cup of coffee. You’re going to be up all night tonight.” Mae raised a brow, but she still poured the steaming liquid into his cup.
“I know.” Marc smiled with no teeth, slow and suggestive. It was the smile he reserved just for her. She knew it too, and a blush crept up to her cheeks from her neck. Funny how a dame could make his blood run hot with a little color added to her skin.
“I’m working late tonight. Maybe until five.” She returned the pot to the coffee maker and set about filling salt and pepper shakers. Her gaze kept drifting back to him while his eyes never left her.
The café was busier than usual for this time of night, but it was one of the few places remodeled after the nightmare that had tried to tear the heart out of Carmine two months ago. Of course, Marc enlisted the help of some friends to fix up Mae’s shop. Few others had supernatural volunteers working on their businesses.
“Why don’t you go see how Kiral is doing? It’s been a while since you visited with him.”
“He’s been otherwise occupied lately.” Marc smirked a bit, not adding any other details. Mae knew the whole story now and was already well liked by every tenant on the 13th floor. He hadn’t managed to convince her to move in yet. She was an old-fashioned girl in some ways. That’s why he had already terrorized a few jewelers searching for the perfect ring. He didn’t know jewelry but he knew Mae.
Nothing ostentatious. Simple and beautiful.
Marc’s heart swelled. Was it possible to love her even more? More each day? He had to wait for the perfect moment. He didn’t know when that would be, but he’d know it when it happened. And for the sake of his sanity, it better be soon.
Four college boys, red faced from a night of drinking, came into the café, shoving one another and laughing raucously. They hollered for coffee from the “old lady” and sat down at one of the tables.
Someone needed to teach those boys some manners. Marc’s face hardened and he pushed his cup from him. Mae flashed him a stay-in-your-seat look and brought four mugs over to the young men. She smiled, ignored their comments about the old lady, and served them their drinks.
Marc’s fingers drummed on the counter.
One of the boys leaned over to where two working girls were having a late meal. He gave them a sloppy grin and muttered something ungentlemanly. The women knew their type better than the boys thought they knew them and kept their backs to them.
“Hey, he was talking to you, whore.” A blond boy slid his chair over to the other table. “What’s your price?”
“Fuck off.” One of the women snapped, holding her fork in a tight grip.
“You don’t get to talk to us like this. Not fucking trash like you.” The blond stood, hulking over the women.
“Hey now, you boys get back to your own table and let the ladies eat in peace.” Mae came out from behind the counter, moving to the girls’ sides.
“Shut up, old woman.” Another of the boys spat.
The drumming stopped and Marc was on his feet. Anger, hate, destruction. He’d rip the heads from their bodies.
He breathed out and let it all go.
“Boys, if you can’t show the ladies some respect, leave the shop. You aren’t welcome here.”
All four of the young men rose to their feet. The blond, obviously the ringleader or the most idiotic drunk, stepped up to Marc. “Whatcha going to do about it, old man?”
A thousand tortures flicked through his mind.
“I’m asking you to leave or I will make you leave.”
They stood for nearly a minute just glaring at one another. Until the boys saw something, perhaps felt it. Marc never knew what triggered it. They backed down, and giving him a wide berth, left the café.
Everyone was silent for a moment. Then the spell was broken and the tension slipped away.
“Your meals are on the house, ladies. My apologies for men everywhere.” Marc nodded to the women.
They smiled at him. Not the one they used for show, but genuine smiles that made them look like little girls who managed to convince him to attend a tea party.
“Thanks, Pops. You’re a sweetheart.”
“Mae, you picked yourself a good one.” The other woman chuckled and gave Mae’s hand a squeeze. “You might want to get him to shave, though.”
“I’ve grown fond of the beard.” Mae winked at them and returned to fill the shakers.
Marc took his seat and picked up his cup, taking a long drink.
“I’ve got you figured out.” Mae came to lean on the counter opposite him.
“Do you now?” He sipped again to hide his smile.
“Nothing you do can surprise me anymore.” She stood, hands on her hips and her chin up in triumph.
Marc reached into the pocket of his flannel jacket and pulled out the tiny box. Holding it out in front of him, he flipped open the lid. The small, perfectly shaped diamond glittered under the florescent lights. “Marry me.”
Her mouth dropped open as her hands fell. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Just seeing her reaction made him feel more alive than ever
before. He could keep her on her toes.
“Will you?”
“Oh, Marc.” Mae’s hands fluttered to her mouth before tucking under her chin. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
If the armies of Hell came for him, he’d fight them back a thousand times for one day with her. If Heaven opened its gates to him, he’d turn away and come right back to her arms. With Mae, he had found unbounded love. He had found absolution.
THE END
Welcome to the tenants of the 13th Floor!
THE 13TH FLOOR SERIES by Christine Rains
An Excerpt from 1302 – The Alpha
CHAPTER 1
Her nose told her the pack was much closer than she should’ve let them get. Those familiar musky scents were as unique as a bite mark. Stefanie trotted, paws not making a sound on the soft ground of the woods. She might be able to lose them and get to safety, but she could also tumble right into a trap. The pack was herding her, and she’d been stupid enough to let herself get between the members.
She’d only wanted to stretch her legs. No one should be in the forest in the hours before dawn. The damn banshee had been screaming in the hall of the building, and Stefanie couldn’t sleep. Stefanie hadn’t shifted outside her apartment in months. One run seemed well deserved for not biting the banshee’s head off.
Movement to her right. A big wolf. Matt? Her nose twitched. No, Colin. Big, dumb, and ugly.
Three others were out there. She smelled them all. Her disloyal pack. Bastards and bitches every single one. Not one of them had helped when Wyatt defeated her in a vicious challenge for leadership and locked her away. Even her sister had turned her back on her. She swallowed a growl.
Stefanie could easily take any one of them down, but all of them? She might, but it would be one hell of a fight. It wasn’t worth the risk. She had a life in Carmine she actually liked, and none of these sons of bitches were going to scare her away.
She hopped over a log, paused, and breathed in again. Her ears pricked as Colin inelegantly drew nearer. Stefanie couldn’t smell their Alpha, but Wyatt was likely somewhere waiting for them to bring her like a virgin to sacrifice. In the twisted realms of nightmares, he tormented her. A hundred screams vied to escape her when she would awake. She refused to let him get his hands on her again.
She hadn’t attacked any of her pursuers yet no matter her superior strength. Wyatt would love for her to draw first blood, and then he would be the big hero saving his pack from her.
She growled in Colin’s direction, warning him to keep his distance. He was close enough for her to see his eyes reflect the moonlight.
Taking off again, she increased her speed. Stefanie didn’t know these woods. The lights of Carmine sparkled to her left, but a water way separated her from the city. She should’ve just stayed home and stuffed a sock down the banshee’s throat.
She couldn’t keep going in this direction. Time for a swim.
Stefanie darted left, zigzagging between trees. A small wolf leapt out at her and snapped at her tail. Scott the Omega. Every instinct screamed to snatch him by the throat and throw him to the ground. No Omega ever acted like that toward an Alpha. She’d done it before, several times, but not tonight. If she stopped, the others would attack.
Her mother always told her to play it smart. Don’t lose her wits when her instincts sang. Giving herself over to her wolf was easy, but staying in control took immense will power.
Run, water, swim. Focus on the plan.
The others thundered behind her. Any hint of subtlety was gone. One let loose a howl. Their prey was in sight.
Stefanie’s heart hammered as she pushed herself even more. The swoosh of the river filled her ears. The pack was getting closer. Seventy or eighty feet behind her, barking with the chase.
Bursting through a thick copse of trees, she tried to skid to a stop and slid down a steep slope toward the river. Not just a river, but a mass of water swollen and angry from the recent rain. Stefanie coughed out a curse as she managed to keep herself out of the water. Her paws dipped in before she could pull them back.
Damn, it was cold. A wolf wouldn’t be able to swim across, but she might if she shifted back to human. Above her, another round of howls erupted.
A soft chuff to her right startled her. Digging her paws in, she twisted and bared her teeth.
Walking upriver, a male wolf she didn’t know jerked his head to the left. She hadn’t seen him or even smelled him. It shouldn’t matter his fur was black as a thundercloud. Stefanie breathed in deep, but even then, his scent was faint. It wasn’t natural. Every animal had a distinctive odor.
Still moving, he looked over his shoulder and didn’t stop to wait for her. There was intelligence in his eyes. And a hint of fear.
Stefanie hurried after him. Maybe he knew a way out she didn’t. Better this one strange wolf than Wyatt and the pack.
Two wolves jumped through the trees and tumbled down the slick slope. Stefanie and her guide picked up their pace, but she glanced back in time to see Colin fall into the river. It was like a badly drawn cartoon. Lots of yelps and flailing legs.
Scott kept himself from going into the water, but he hesitated with indecision. He barked at the others.
A bend took them out of sight. Stefanie drew closer to the other wolf. Even with her nose a foot from his haunches, his scent was remarkably muted. The only things she could tell were that he was a male and not an Alpha. She huffed at the lack of information. Her nose usually told her great stories.
His dark fur hid him well in the night. Yet even with that camouflage, she should’ve known he was there. His steps were sure. He knew this territory and he was without a pack. Unless they were better at hiding themselves than he was.
Ahead, the river narrowed. The glint of metal drew her eyes. A big storm drain on the opposite shore.
The wolf stopped and gestured with a twist of his head. He backed up as far as he could go without slipping and then took a running leap. Clearing the water and landing on the drain with a click of his claws, he hopped to higher ground and turned to wait for her.
Stefanie backed up as he had. It was a big jump, but she could do it. Her body tensed, ready to spring, when she smelled Scott’s foul scent. She swung to the right and met him head on.
Scott pounced and she caught him by the neck, slamming him into the muddy shore. She held him, growling, pushing him closer to the water. His struggles were useless and both knew it. She didn’t doubt he was told to slow her down. The howls from the woods confirmed her suspicions.
She wasn’t going to play their game. Tossing him into the river, she readied herself again and jumped. She slipped on the drain, banging her chin and letting everyone know exactly where she was. Snarling at herself, Stefanie shook her head and climbed away from the water. From the opposite shore, the pack hollered in snarls and yaps.
Not waiting to see if they followed, she ran to the line of trees where the other wolf stood. There was a clear path to the city now, but he led her to the edge of the woods. He stayed in the shadows, making no move toward Carmine or to her. Stefanie barked at him and trotted a few steps in the direction of the city. He didn’t follow.
Growling, Stefanie walked another dozen steps and looked back, pausing for him. When he remained in the same spot, she debated for a second whether or not to go back and drag him with her. He’d helped her. She wasn’t going to leave him to get caught by her pack.
No, he wasn’t stupid. If he stayed, he knew the risks, and she couldn’t stick around any longer. Repeating that to herself, Stefanie dashed off to Carmine.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A big thank you to my critique partners, Tania Walsh and Cherie Reich. Without the two of you, this story wouldn’t be in the reader’s hands right now. And if it was, it probably should not have been! I’ve learned so much from you, and I’m a better writer for it.
I’m very grateful to Clare Dugmore and Aubrie Dionne who was brave enough to agree to be my beta reader. Talking about the story w
ith you has given me a more thorough understanding of my work.
My husband has been so patient with me on this crazy ride. Thank you, darlin’, for letting me be an eccentric writer. And a big hug to my son who will have to explain to his friends one day why his mother is such a nut.
Finally, thank you to my readers. Each and every one of you make all this work worthwhile.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Christine Rains is a writer, blogger, and geek mom. She has four degrees which help nothing with motherhood but make her a great Jeopardy player. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s having adventures with her son or watching cheesy movies on the Syfy Channel. She’s a member of S.C.I.F.I. She has seventeen short stories and three novellas published.
The Marquis is the first book in the 13th Floor series. The next installment, 1302 – The Alpha, will be available on January 13, 2013.
Website: http://christinerains.net/
Blog: http://christinerains-writer.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorchristinerains
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CRainsWriter
Email: [email protected]
Table of Contents
OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTINE RAINS
DEDICATION
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
EPILOGUE
Welcome to the tenants of the 13th Floor!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Table of Contents
OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTINE RAINS
DEDICATION
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Marquis (The 13th Floor) Page 6
