Finding Chrissten: Legacy, Book 5

by N. J. Walters

  He was relieved that Chrissten and the others were safe and the threat to the Haven pack had been neutralized. Such a sanitized word for killing, but true nonetheless.

  He hadn’t gone to them. Hadn’t been able to make himself leave his club when Craig had called looking for the address and asking for help. He’d given his new friend the location and information he’d discovered. But that was all.

  He was too close to the edge.

  He ran his tongue over his sharp incisor. Yes, he was definitely a vampire on the edge. He’d lived a very long time. Some would say too long, but he’d laughed over their graves centuries ago. He enjoyed life, for the most part, but the long years had taken their toll on him.

  Very little interested him these days. Yes, he had his business concerns and the friendship of the occasional human, like Craig Lawton, who fascinated him. But he was…lonely. That was the word he was searching for.

  He’d stopped making close friends centuries ago. It was too hard to watch everyone around him die, to see empires rise and fall around him while he remained the same. He survived by maintaining total control over himself and his environment. He took what he needed from humans to survive. No more, no less.

  But sometimes…sometimes the demons rose up within him demanding more.

  Werewolf blood. Paranormal blood. He pricked his tongue against his tooth and tasted the sweet tang of his own blood. Paranormal blood had the power to push a vampire past all restraint, thus creating a much more dangerous creature.

  Monster.

  Sometimes he feared he’d become just that. It was bad enough he’d had to search out the former members of Doctor Morton’s military experiment and either steal their memories or exterminate them for the good of all concerned.

  No one could be allowed to expose his secrets and live. He was safe from the general populace as long as the myth of the vampire lived in the annals of fiction and folklore. Proving the existence of a werewolf was only a step away from proving his. Plus, he liked the Striker family and their packs. He didn’t want to see them harmed. Survival was hard enough with the paranormal bounty hunters searching for all of them.

  Fire burned in his gut at the mere thought of those abominations. They killed women and children, males and females alike with no discrimination. It didn’t matter to them if the ones they murdered were good, decent people. All they cared was that paranormal beings were different. Not human.

  And they called him a monster.

  The fight with the rogue pack would have been too much of a temptation for him. Six rogue werewolves who needed to die. All that lush, lovely blood to be had. He could have gorged himself on it. Drinking until he could drink no more.

  But would he have stopped there?

  That was the question, the one he feared to answer. Would he have stopped or would he have attacked one of his friends simply because he was lost to the bloodlust? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it.

  The Haven pack accepted the fact he hadn’t come to fight beside them. They didn’t question his decision, but he knew Craig was disappointed in him. He’d heard it the hurt in the human’s voice. But he’d made it up to him even if Craig didn’t know it. His realtor had just called to inform him he’d met with Craig and his family earlier today. The property the Lawton family was currently considering purchasing was one of his. He planned to see they got a good deal on it if they wanted it. He hoped they would.

  Angry with himself for caring, he sat in his chair and pulled his ledger over to him. There was always work to do when one owned a variety of properties. Damek had nothing but time on his hands. It was good he kept busy.

  But he was too restless to work and got up from his desk and left his office behind, heading out into his club. Music pumped wildly through the speakers that ringed the room. People danced and drank and the shadows hid more intimate encounters.

  The smell of sweat and alcohol, sex and desperation filled his nostrils. This was his domain, his world, his kingdom.

  It’s good to be king.

  About the Author

  N.J. Walters has always been a voracious reader of romance novels and decided one day that she could write one as well. The contemporary story, Discovering Dani, was the very first novel she wrote while living in a little town much like the one Dani O’Rourke lives in, though all other similarities to Dani’s life pretty much end there. Then she wrote another one that followed up on Dani’s friends and neighbors. But she didn’t consider herself a “real” writer yet.

  Just a few years later N. J. had a mid-life crisis at a fairly young age, gave notice after ten years at her job on a Friday and received a tentative acceptance for her first published novel (an erotic romance) from a publisher on the following Sunday.

  Happily married to the love of her life, with his encouragement and support she gave up the job of selling books for the more pleasurable job of writing them. She now spends her days writing novels of her own. Werewolves, vampires, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to do it. And some days she actually feels like a “real” writer.

  N.J. enjoys hearing from readers, and she can be reached at njwalters22@yahoo.ca. You can check out her web site at www.njwalters.com.

  Look for these titles by N.J. Walters

  Now Available:

  Jamesville

  Discovering Dani

  The Way Home

  The Return of Patrick O’Rourke

  The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

  A Legal Affair

  By the Book

  Past Promises

  Legacy

  Alexandra’s Legacy

  Isaiah’s Haven

  Legacy Found

  Spells, Secrets and Seduction

  A Touch of Magic

  Dreams of Seduction

  Love in Flames

  Finding Chrissten

  Coming Soon:

  Damek’s Redemption

  He can give her anything and everything she needs—except a future.

  Quinn’s Quest

  © 2012 N.J. Walters

  Legacy, Book 4

  Kidnapped and held in a crazy doctor’s underground laboratory, Bethany Morris only manages to escape because Chrissten, one of her fellow abductees, creates an opportunity—by shifting into a werewolf.

  Bethany’s desperate for help, but who’ll believe her story? The police? That’ll just buy her a one-way ticket to a padded room—because here’s the kicker: she’s discovered she’s a half-breed werewolf. Her only hope is to find Chrissten’s brother.

  Quinn Lawton’s long, grinding search for his missing twin has turned up nothing…until Bethany rekindles his hope. Something else catches flame too—her heat cycle and a searing attraction branded with the word mate. Yet with so much blood on his hands, any future he might offer is already tainted beyond redemption.

  Desperate for Quinn’s touch alone, Bethany has no choice but to take Quinn up on his offer to quell her terrifying need, no strings attached. And hope that as the search for Chrissten intensifies, the battle with their personal demons doesn’t destroy their razor-thin chance at forever.

  Warning: This book contains heartbreak and love found, a crazy scientist and his werewolf flunky and a tortured werewolf hero. Plus lots and lots of steamy hot sex!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Quinn’s Quest:

  The phone rang twice before it occurred to Bethany that the middle of the night might not be the best time to call anyone asking for help, especially not with the crazy story she had to tell. “Damn.” She thought about hanging up but she was committed now. She tightened her hand around the receiver.

  “Yeah.” The voice was male and hoarse with sleep.

  She cleared her throat. “Is this Quinn Lawton?” She prayed she’d remembered the number right. She didn’t know what she’d do next if this wasn’t Chrissten’s brother.

  There was
some rustling in the background and the voice was more alert this time. “No.” Bethany’s heart sunk. Maybe she’d dialed the number wrong. Before she could apologize and hang up, the man was speaking again. “Just give me a second and I’ll get him.”

  Hope surged inside her. She hadn’t failed. The phone number was the right one. Her knees threatened to buckle so she sank into the chair that Margaret had vacated. Her stomach felt queasy and she was still very weak. She could still hang up the phone and let the police handle this. All she’d have to do is tell them she was kidnapped. No need to tell them about the rest of it. Quinn Lawton would never be able to find her. There was no way to trace the call back to the shelter.

  She clutched the receiver in her hand and took a deep breath, knowing she could never do that. She was committed now. No turning back. Footsteps sounded through the receiver and she knew the man who’d answered was taking the phone to Chrissten’s brother, who was a half-breed werewolf just like Chrissten. Just like she was.

  Bethany still couldn’t quite wrap her head around that one, but she was trying to understand it. She hoped Quinn had answers for her.

  “Yeah.” The voice was low and gruff and masculine. Every cell in Bethany’s body reacted to the sound. The fine hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her nipples contracted. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Who is this?” The voice was more demanding now, all trace of sleepiness gone.

  Bethany forced herself to speak. “Is this Quinn Lawton?”

  “Who wants to know?” She almost hung up on him. His impatience and arrogance bled through the phone line. But she’d promised her friend.

  “Do you have a sister named Chrissten?”

  “Where is she? Who are you? Where are you?”

  Bethany was so startled by the angry outburst she dropped the receiver. She could hear Quinn yelling at her through the line. She grabbed the phone and hung up, panting hard for breath. He was one scary man.

  She sat there for about thirty seconds before she grabbed the phone and punched in the number again.

  “Hello. Are you there?” he demanded.

  “I’m here.” This was for Chrissten, she reminded herself. And for yourself, a little voice in the back of her head said. You want to know more about who you are. What you are.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” His low tones made her shiver and she wasn’t sure she believed him. Even his apology was short. A voice in the background was urging him to stay calm. She recognized it as the man who’d originally answered the phone. She was beginning to wish she’d talked to him instead.

  “Umm, I need to talk to you about your sister.” She had to do this face-to-face. This wasn’t something you talked about over the phone. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Chicago. Where are you?”

  Bethany was shocked to find out that help was close at hand. She hadn’t expected that, but would take it as a good sign that maybe her luck was changing. “Where in Chicago? I want to meet you.”

  “Tell me about my sister.” His frustration was palpable and she almost blurted out everything she knew. But she had to meet him in person. She’d promised Chrissten she’d get help and that meant more than simply making a phone call. Plus, she was curious about him, about what he was. What she was.

  “Where shall I meet you?” Bethany could be just as stubborn as he was.

  “There’s a bar in Wicker Park. It’s called Haven. Meet me there.”

  “When?” Bethany glanced at the clock over Margaret’s desk. It was half past four in the morning.

  “Now. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I don’t have any money to pay for a cab.” It was demoralizing to admit she needed him to pay for her to get there. She couldn’t walk, as she had no idea where she was going. Even if she wanted to take public transit she still had no idea where to find this particular bar.

  “Just get here. I’ll take care of the cab fare.”

  She sucked in a breath and said, “Okay,” as she exhaled. The quicker she did this the better for her peace of mind.

  “What’s your name?” The urgency in his tone brought home just how desperate he was for news of his sister.

  “Bethany. My name is Bethany. As of less than a day ago your sister was alive. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Love comes howling when—and where—you least expect it.

  Isaiah’s Haven

  © 2010 N.J. Walters

  Legacy, Book 2

  Isaiah Striker puts family first, the pack a distant second. Which is precisely the reason he’s in noisy, crowded Chicago instead of alone in his beloved woods. One look at the owner of Haven nightclub, however, and a simple favor for his brother turns into something else entirely.

  Meredith Cross holds her small pack together with sheer determination. After years on the run, they hide in the glare of the city’s nightlife. Isaiah may heat her blood, but she can’t afford to risk the lives of the outcast half-breeds in her care. Once exposed, every bounty hunter and werewolf purist in smelling distance will hunt them down.

  But when their sexual attraction spirals out of control, a moment’s distraction is all it takes to lead danger right to Meredith’s door. For Meredith there’s only one choice: her pack.

  But Isaiah knows his mate when he sees her. And he’s not giving up without a fight.

  Warning: This book contains hot sex, a jazzy nightclub, sexy werewolves, rogue werewolves, nasty bounty hunters, a mysterious vampire, and did I mention hot sex?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Isaiah’s Haven:

  “Is there a problem?” Hank strode up to stand just to the side of the stranger.

  “No problem. This gentleman was just leaving.” She pleaded with Isaiah with her eyes. If he insisted on repeating his claim of her being a werewolf, he wouldn’t get out of here alive. There was only one of him and three male werewolves. Was he a hunter or just a human who believed in such things?

  She took a deep breath. She needed to be calm. What she got was a blast of pheromones and a jolt of arousal. A spicy scent filled her nose and made her sex clench with need. She almost moaned aloud as a shiver of need wracked her body and her nipples tightened. How had she missed this? He was a werewolf.

  Impossible. She blinked in astonishment. In all the years they’d been here this had never happened. Male werewolves tended to stay away from the city, not liking the crowds or the closed-in space. It was one of the main reasons why she lived here with her sons and her adopted family.

  Oh God! Hank. He was only a half-breed and many full-blooded werewolves were as bad as the bounty hunters wanting them dead. Teague, Neema and Kevin were all half-breeds as well. Their safety depended on her keeping control of this situation at all costs. She straightened her shoulders. If he thought to threaten her family, he was mistaken.

  “You need to leave,” she repeated. “Now.”

  He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. It made him look sexier, if that was even possible.

  Hank reached out to grab Isaiah’s arm.

  “You don’t want to do that, pup,” Isaiah warned.

  Hank froze with his hand in the air. Benjamin growled low in his chest. Kevin came out from the back office, adding to the growing tension. “What’s going on?”

  Isaiah was still trying to process the fact that the woman he lusted after was a female werewolf, and a beautiful one at that. She was also coming into heat. There was no mistaking that enticing spicy perfume. No wonder he was attracted to her.

  What was even more surprising was that she wasn’t the only werewolf here. They all were. The odor from all the human patrons, the liquor and the food had masked their scent. Now that they were the only ones left, there was no disguising it.

  It was crazy to see a group of werewolves living in a city surrounded by the myriad sights and sounds which assailed their senses daily. Bounty hunters frequented the cities for supplies and new recruits. Not to
mention that vampires, witches and demons preferred to live in the city. And while the different species weren’t exactly at war, they weren’t sending each other Christmas cards either.

  Around him several of the males began to growl. As if drawn by the tension, a lean red-haired male pushed through the kitchen door, wiping his hand on a white towel as he came. The sleeveless shirt he was wearing displayed an array of tattoos running up and down his muscular arms. With the trio of gold hoops in both ears and his eyebrow piercing, he looked like trouble. He was followed by the slender, curly-haired female Isaiah had seen waiting tables earlier in the evening.

  Meredith held up her hand. “Enough.”

  Several of the males shot her a glare, but subsided. Isaiah was surprised at how all the males deferred to her. She was obviously the alpha female of this little pack. But where was the alpha male?

  The thought of another male having the right to put his hands on her made Isaiah see red. A low, menacing growl came from deep in his chest. The younger woman took a step toward the red-haired male. He wrapped his arm around her protectively.

  The tension in the room grew until it was so thick it was almost impossible to breathe. He didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he talked to Meredith.

  The woman in question stepped forward and placed her hands on her hips. She exuded confidence, which was sexy as hell and turned him on even more. “Don’t think you can come in here and threaten my family, wolf.” She spat the last as though it were a bad word.

  Having her so near, he could see the smoothness of her skin and smell her delicious scent. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and sniffed the curve of her neck. She smelled like something rare and exotic, a combination of musk, cinnamon and heat that was intoxicating. She shivered and started to lean toward him. He wanted to howl with pleasure. But it ended far too soon for his liking when someone pulled her away.