Up From the Grave: A Night Huntress Novel

by Jeaniene Frost

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Catherine.” She paused. I waited, tapping my finger on my desk. Then she spoke words that had me almost falling out of my chair. “I’ve decided to come to your wedding.”

  I actually glanced at my phone again to see if I’d been mistaken and it was someone else who’d called me.

  “Are you drunk?” I got out when I could speak.

  She sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t marry that vampire, but I’m tired of him coming between us.”

  Aliens replaced her with a pod person, I found myself thinking. That’s the only explanation.

  “So . . . you’re coming to my wedding?” I couldn’t help but repeat.

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” she replied with some of her usual annoyance.

  “Um. Great.” Hell if I knew what to say. I was floored.

  “I don’t suppose you’d want any of my help planning it?” my mother asked, sounding both defiant and uncertain.

  If my jaw hung any lower, it would fall off. “I’d love some,” I managed.

  “Good. Can you make it for dinner later?”

  I was about to say, Sorry, there was no way, when I paused. Tate didn’t even want me watching the video of him dealing with his bloodlust. Bones was leaving this afternoon to pick Annette up from the airport. I could swing by my mom’s when he went to get Annette, and then meet him back here afterward.

  “How about a late lunch instead of dinner? Say, around four o’clock?”

  “That’s fine, Catherine.” She paused again, seeming to want to say something more. I half expected her to yell, April Fool’s! but it was November, so that would be way early. “I’ll see you at four.”

  When Bones came into my office at dawn, since Dave was taking the next twelve-hour shift with Tate, I was still dumbfounded. First Tate turning into a vampire, then my mother softening over my marrying one. Today really was a day to remember.

  Bones offered to drop me off on his way to the airport, then pick me up on his way back to the compound, but I declined. I didn’t want to be without a car if my mother’s mood turned foul—always a possibility—or risk ruining our first decent mother-daughter chat by Bones showing up with a strange vampire. There were only so many sets of fangs I thought my mother could handle at the same time, and Annette got on my nerves even on the best of days.

  Besides, I could just see me explaining who Annette was to my mother. Mom, this is Annette. Back in the seventeen hundreds when Bones was a gigolo, she used to pay him to fuck her, but after more than two hundred years of banging him, now they’re just good friends.

  Yeah, I’d introduce Annette to my mother—right after I performed a lobotomy on myself.

  “I still can’t believe she wants to talk about the wedding,” I marveled to Bones as I climbed into my car.

  He gave me a serious look. “She’ll never abandon her relationship with you. You could marry Satan himself and that still wouldn’t get rid of her. She loves you, Kitten, though she does a right poor job of showing it most days.” Then he gave me a wicked grin. “Shall I ring your cell in an hour, so you can pretend there’s an emergency if she gets natty with you?”

  “What if there is an emergency with Tate?” I wondered. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave.”

  “Your bloke’s fine. Nothing can harm him now short of a silver stake through the heart. Go see your mum. Ring me if you need me to come bite her.”

  There really was nothing for me to do at the compound. Tate would be a few more days at least in lockdown, and we didn’t have any jobs scheduled, for obvious reasons. This was as good a time as any to see if my mom meant what she said about wanting to end our estrangement.

  “Keep your cell handy,” I joked to Bones. Then I pulled away.

  My mother lived thirty minutes from the compound. She was still in Richmond, but in a more rural area. Her quaint neighborhood was reminiscent of where we grew up in Ohio, without being too far away from Don if things got hairy. I pulled up to her house, parked, and noticed that her shutters needed a fresh coat of paint. Did they look like that the last time I was here? God, how long had it been since I’d come to see her?

  As soon as I got out of the car, however, I froze. Shock crept up my spine, and it had nothing to do with the realization that I hadn’t been here since Bones came back into my life months ago.

  From the feel of the energy leaking off the house, my mother wasn’t alone inside, but whoever was with her didn’t have a heartbeat. I started to slide my hand toward my purse, where I always had some silver knives tucked away, when a cold laugh made me stop.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, little girl,” a voice I hated said from behind me.

  My mother’s front door opened. She was framed in it, with a dark-haired vampire who looked vaguely familiar cradling her neck almost lovingly in his hands.

  And I didn’t need to turn around to know the vampire at my back was my father.

  DESTINED FOR AN EARLY GRAVE

  They’ve fought against the rogue undead, battled a vengeful Master vampire and pledged their devotion with a blood bond. Now it’s time for Cat and Bones to go on a vacation. But Cat is having terrifying dreams of a vampire named Gregor who’s more powerful than Bones . . . and has ties to her past that even Cat herself doesn’t know about.

  “Frost’s dazzling blend of urban fantasy action and passionate relationships make her a true phenomenon.”

  Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  Who is Gregor, why am I dreaming about him, and why is he called the Dreamsnatcher?”

  “More importantly, why has he surfaced now to seek her out?” Bones’s voice was cold as ice. “Gregor hasn’t been seen or heard from in over a decade. I thought he might be dead.”

  “He’s not dead,” Mencheres said a trifle grimly. “Like me, Gregor has visions of the future. He intended to alter the future based on one of these visions. When I found out about it, I imprisoned him as punishment.”

  “And what does he want with my wife?”

  Bones emphasized the words while arching a brow at me, as if daring me to argue. I didn’t.

  “He saw Cat in one of his visions and decided he had to have her,” Mencheres stated in a flat tone. “Then he discovered she’d be blood-bound to you. Around the time of Cat’s sixteenth birthday, Gregor intended to find her and take her away. His plan was very simple—if Cat had never met you, then she’d be his, not yours.”

  “Bloody sneaking bastard,” Bones ground out, even as my jaw dropped. “I’ll congratulate him on his cleverness—while I’m ripping silver through his heart.”

  “Don’t underestimate Gregor,” Mencheres said. “He managed to escape my prison a month ago, and I still don’t know how. Gregor seems to be more interested in Cat than in getting revenge against me. She’s the only person I know whom Gregor’s contacted through dreams since he’s been out.”

  Why do these crazy vampires keep trying to collect me? My being one of the only known half-breeds had been more of a pain than it was worth. Gregor wasn’t the first vampire who thought it would be neat to keep me as some sort of exotic toy, but he did win points for cooking up the most original plan to do it.

  “And you locked Gregor up for a dozen years just to keep him from altering my future with Bones?” I asked, my skepticism plain. “Why? You didn’t do much to stop Bones’s sire, Ian, when he tried the same thing.”

  Mencheres’s steel-colored eyes flicked from me to Bones. “There was more at stake,” he said at last. “If you’d never met Bones, he might have stayed under Ian’s rule longer, not taking Mastership of his own line, and then not being co-Master of mine when I needed him. I couldn’t risk that.”

  So it hadn’t been about preserving true love at all. Figures. Vampires seldom did anything with purely altruistic motives.

  “What happens if Gregor touches me in my dreams?” I asked, moving on. “What then?”

  Bones answered me, and the burning intensity in his gaze could have seare
d my face.

  “If Gregor takes ahold of you in your dreams, when you wake, you’ll be wherever he is. That’s why he’s called the Dreamsnatcher. He can steal people away in their dreams.”

  THIS SIDE OF THE GRAVE

  Cat and Bones have fought for their lives as well as their relationship. Just as they’ve triumphed over the latest battle, Cat’s new and unexpected abilities are making them a target. And help from a dangerous “ally” may prove more treacherous than they’ve ever imagined.

  “Cat and Bones are combustible together.”

  CHARLAINE HARRIS

  The vampire pulled on the chains restraining him to the cave wall. His eyes were bright green, their glow illuminating the darkness surrounding us.

  “Do you really think these will hold me?” he asked, an English accent caressing the challenge.

  “Sure do,” I replied. Those manacles were installed and tested by a Master vampire, so they were strong enough. I should know. I’d once been stuck in them myself.

  The vampire’s smile revealed fangs in his white upper teeth. They hadn’t been there several minutes ago, when he’d still looked human to the untrained eye.

  “Right, then. What do you want, now that you have me helpless?”

  He didn’t sound like he felt helpless in the least. I pursed my lips and considered the question, letting my gaze sweep over him. Nothing interrupted my view, either, since he was naked. I’d long ago learned that weapons could be stored in various clothing items, but bare skin hid nothing.

  Except now, it was also very distracting. The vampire’s body was a pale, beautiful expanse of muscle, bone, and lean, elegant lines, all topped off by a gorgeous face with cheekbones so finely chiseled they could cut butter. Clothed or unclothed, the vampire was stunning, something he was obviously aware of. Those glowing green eyes looked into mine with a knowing stare.

  “Need me to repeat the question?” he asked with a hint of wickedness.

  I strove for nonchalance. “Who do you work for?”

  His grin widened, letting me know my aloof act wasn’t as convincing as I’d meant it to be. He even stretched as much as the chains allowed, his muscles rippling like waves on a pond.

  “No one.”

  “Liar.” I pulled out a silver knife and traced its tip lightly down his chest, not breaking his skin, just leaving a faint pink line that faded in seconds. Vampires might be able to heal with lightning quickness, but silver through the heart was lethal. Only a few inches of bone and muscle stood between this vampire’s heart and my blade.

  He glanced at the path my knife had traced. “Is that supposed to frighten me?”

  I pretended to consider the question. “Well, I’ve cut a bloody swath through the undead world ever since I was sixteen. Even earned myself the nickname of the Red Reaper, so if I’ve got a knife next to your heart, then yes, you should be afraid.”

  His expression was still amused. “Right nasty wench you sound like, but I wager I could get free and have you on your back before you could stop me.”

  Cocky bastard. “Talk is cheap. Prove it.”

  His legs flashed out, knocking me off-balance. I sprang forward at once, but a hard, cool body flattened me to the cave floor in the next instant. An iron grip closed around my wrist, preventing me from raising the knife.

  “Always pride before a fall,” he murmured in satisfaction.

  ONE GRAVE AT A TIME

  Cat’s “gift” from New Orleans’s voodoo queen just keeps on giving, and now a personal favor has led to doing battle against a villainous spirit. But how do you send a killer to the grave when he’s already dead?

  “Every time I think I know all there is to know about Cat and Bones, Ms. Frost creates new layers of depth. . . . Prepare yourself for blood and gore galore, interspersed with tons of dark, witty humor, fierce fighting, and one-of-a-kind romance.”

  Joyfully Reviewed

  We summon you into our presence. Heed our call, Heinrich Kramer. Come to us now. We summon through the veil the spirit of Heinrich Kramer—”

  Dexter let out a sharp noise that was part whine, part bark. Tyler quit speaking. I tensed, feeling the grate of invisible icicles across my skin again. Bones’s gaze narrowed at a point over my right shoulder. Slowly, I turned my head in that direction.

  All I saw was a swirl of darkness before the Ouija board flew across the room—and the point of the little wooden planchette buried in Tyler’s throat.

  I sprang up and tried to grab Tyler, only to be knocked backward like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Stunned, it took me a second to register that I was pinned to the wall by the desk, that dark cloud on the other side of it.

  The ghost had successfully managed to use the desk as a weapon against me. If it hadn’t been still jabbed in my stomach, I wouldn’t even have believed it.

  Bones threw the desk aside before I could, flinging it so hard that it split down the center when it hit the other wall. Dexter barked and jumped around, trying to bite the charcoal-colored cloud that was forming into the shape of a tall man. Tyler made a horrible gurgling noise, clutching his throat. Blood leaked out between his fingers.

  “Bones, fix him. I’ll deal with this asshole.”

  Dexter’s barks drowned out the sounds Tyler made as Bones slashed his palm with his fangs, then slapped it over Tyler’s mouth, ripping out the planchette at the same time.

  Pieces of the desk suddenly became missiles that pelted the three of us. Bones spun around to take their brunt, shielding Tyler, while I jumped to cover the dog. A pained yelp let me know at least one had nailed Dexter before I got to him. Tyler’s gurgles became wrenching coughs.

  “Boy, did you make a colossal fucking mistake,” I snarled, grabbing a piece of the ruined desk. Then I stood up, still blocking the dog from any more objects the ghost could lob at him. He’d materialized enough for me to see white hair swirling around a craggy, wrinkled face. The ghost hadn’t been young when he died, but the shoulders underneath his dark tunic weren’t bowed from age. They were squared in arrogance, and the green eyes boring into mine held nothing but contempt.

  “Hure,” the ghost muttered before thrusting his hand into my neck and squeezing like he was about to choke me. I felt a stronger than normal pins-and-needles sensation but didn’t flinch. If this schmuck thought to terrify me with a cheap parlor trick like that, wait until he saw my first abracadabra.

  “Heinrich Kramer?” I asked almost as an afterthought. Didn’t matter if it wasn’t him, he would regret what he did, but I wanted to know whose ass I was about to kick.

  About the Author

  JEANIENE FROST is the New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author of the Night Huntress series and the Night Huntress World novels. To date, foreign rights for her novels have sold to nineteen different countries. Jeaniene lives in North Carolina with her husband, Matthew, who long ago accepted that she rarely cooks and always sleeps in on the weekends. Aside from writing, Jeaniene enjoys reading, poetry, watching movies with her husband, exploring old cemeteries, spelunking, and traveling—by car. Airplanes, children, and cookbooks frighten her.

  To know more about Jeaniene, please visit her website at www.jeanienefrost.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  By Jeaniene Frost

  UP FROM THE GRAVE

  TWICE TEMPTED

  ONCE BURNED

  ONE GRAVE AT A TIME

  THIS SIDE OF THE GRAVE

  ETERNAL KISS OF DARKNESS

  FIRST DROP OF CRIMSON

  DESTINED FOR AN EARLY GRAVE

  AT GRAVE’S END

  ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE

  HALFWAY TO THE GRAVE

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Excerpts from Halfway to the Grave; One Foot in the Grave; At Grave’s End; Destined for an Early Grave; This Side of the Grave; One Grave at a Time copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009, 2011 by Jeaniene Frost.

  UP FROM THE GRAVE. Copyright © 2014 by Jeaniene Frost. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  EPub Edition FEBRUARY 2014 ISBN: 9780062075840

  Print Edition ISBN 9780062076113

  FIRST EDITION

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