“I’d just discovered the most amazing woman, and I wanted to know more about her.”
She blushed. “That’s insane. You hardly know me.”
“It’s not insane,” Ren said, shrugging. He caught her hand in his, held it as he eased back on the bed. He was so damn tired. “And if anybody would be insane, it would be me. I felt drawn to you the first time I saw you. What’s insane is ignoring it. Can you tell me you don’t feel it too?”
“No.” She stared down at him, stroked his cheek. “No, I can’t tell you that. But this is still insane. I don’t even know your name…is Ren your first name? Your last?”
He grimaced. “It’s part of my last name.”
Then he sighed and closed his eyes. “I was born Thomas Renfield, but I haven’t gone by that name in a very, very long time. I’m not overly fond of it.”
“Why not? It’s not like they named you something like Milton or some super-geek name.”
“Milton.” Ren laughed and opened his eyes, smiled up at her. “It’s not the name, so much though. It’s the life that was attached to that name. It was a miserable one, truth be told. Not many happy memories there.”
He grimaced. Might as well get it all out, let her know the whole of it. “Do you read much? Watch movies?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“You asked me who I’m supposed to be…or I was would be more accurate.” A grimace twisted his lips. “What does the name Renfield mean to you?”
“Renfield—he was the crazy guy in Dracula.”
“Yes.” Ren stared at her.
Her eyes went wide. “Holy shit.” Then she clapped her hand over her mouth and blushed a painful shade of red.
He snorted. “Ali, I’ve had a long time to adjust to the stories that attached themselves to that name. Trust me, I’ve heard it all, but why don’t I make it easy for you? No, I never attached myself to some blood-drinking monster, and no, I don’t recall eating spiders or birds. But there was a time when I ate a number of unsavory things—if a bird or spider had been placed before me and I could catch it, I might well have eaten it.” He stared at the ceiling, remembering the years he’d spent trapped in a cellar.
He slid her a look and managed a tight smile. “I do have more than a passing acquaintance with insanity though. For a while, insanity and I were close friends. Very close. And there were times through the past century or so where that darkness pushed too close.”
Certain he’d look into her eyes and see disgust, or fear, or pity, he braced himself.
But she just laid a hand on his cheek. “I think quite a few of us have had a brush or two like that. You just came closer than some, maybe. But I still don’t get how you and the nut from that book…” She winced. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Ren caught her wrist and tugged her down, nuzzled her neck. “Don’t be. It started after one of my ‘brushes’ with insanity. Apparently the author of the book saw me having one of my…moments. I don’t remember it, but Will was there and he… Well, by the time he was done explaining that moment, he’d painted a nice, crazy picture.”
“Now that seriously sucks. You spent the past hundred years dealing with that because your friend’s got a weird sense of humor?”
Ren laughed. “After you’ve been around as long as he has, a weird sense of humor keeps you sane. Maybe I should have cultivated a stranger sense of humor myself.”
He slid an arm around her, eased her closer. “You realize…I’m not leaving.”
“You need to heal up.”
“Yes, and it’s going to take a while.” Pressing his brow to hers, he said, “My wings are gone, Ali. I’m not one of them anymore. I’m mortal again. I’m human. I’m going to grow old. I’m going to die. But before I do that, I’ve got a life to live…and I want to do it with you.”
Tears glinted in her eyes. A watery laugh escaped her. “This really is insane. We don’t know each other. Not at all.”
“Yes, we do.” He rubbed his mouth against hers. “We know what we need to know…that’s how we recognized each other the moment we saw each other. I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you, Ali. And I think you’ve been waiting for me.”
She smiled against his lips. “Maybe you really are crazy. And maybe I am too. Because I think you just might be right.”
About the Author
To learn more about Shiloh, please visit www.shilohwalker.com. Send an email to Shiloh at [email protected] or visit her blog at http://www.shilohwalker.com/website/
Look for these titles by Shiloh Walker
Now Available:
Always Yours
Legends: Hunters and Heroes
Talking with the Dead
Malachi
Hunter’s Pride
The Huntress
For the Love of Jazz
Beautiful Girl
Hunter’s Edge
Vicious Vixen
Playing for Keeps
My Lady
The Redeeming
Grimm’s Circle
Candy Houses
No Prince Charming
So you think you know fairy tales? Guess again.
Candy Houses
© 2009 Shiloh Walker
Grimm’s Circle, Book 1
Greta didn’t get her happy ending her first time around. And now that she’s a Grimm—special kind of guardian angel and official ass-kicker in the paranormal world—romance is hard to find. Besides, there’s only ever been one man who made her heart race, and the fact that he did scared her right out of his arms. Now Rip is back. And just in time too, because Greta needs his help.
On a mission he knows is going to test all of his strengths and skills, the last person Rip expected to see is the one woman who broke his heart. Working together seems to be their only hope. But, when faced with a danger neither of them anticipated, the question is, how will they face the danger to their hearts—assuming they survive, of course.
Warning: Dark, sexy, a little bit scary—this fairy tale is only for grownups and is best saved for bedtime.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Candy Houses:
You must be joking.
Rip stood across the street in the shadows, watching as the brunette made her way down the sidewalk, staring into the bars and restaurants, like she was searching for somebody.
She was.
That what their kind did. They searched for those who needed them. That’s why the Circle existed, after all. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind seeing pretty little Greta. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind teasing her and seeing if he could get those blue eyes to blaze fire at him. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind trying to figure out how to convince her to get naked with him again.
It was a task he’d been working for close to a hundred years, ever since that first—and last—time.
She ignored him, though. All too easily. If he didn’t know women as well as he did, he might have even believed that feigned disinterest. She was good at hiding it, but she wasn’t as oblivious of him as she liked to pretend. On the odd occasion their paths crossed, he would see the heat in her eyes. Heat…hunger…and need. A need that just might match his own.
It was a hope that kept him going through many a night and yes, under normal circumstances he’d be more than happy to see her sauntering down a city street, taking in everything with those big blue eyes. More than happy to approach her and see what it would take to get those blue eyes to focus him.
But right now he wasn’t functioning under normal circumstances.
He was on a hunt and he wasn’t about to get distracted, not even by the very distractible Greta. Even though he’d much rather be distracted by Greta.
As he stared at her, brooding, she stopped on the sidewalk and cocked her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed and he saw the change come over her, watched as she went from bored to predatory. Watched as she became aware. He saw the intent interest flare in her eyes and knew without a doubt she’d caug
ht scent of something.
“Shit, don’t let it be my something,” he muttered, reaching back and grabbing the band that held his hair secured at his nape. He shoved a hand through his hair and then gathered it back into a queue. He wasn’t sharing this quarry, not with anybody. Not even Greta. He couldn’t.
Hell.
This was even worse than being distracted by Greta.
If she picked up on his hunt, she would want to get involved, and she’d do just that. She’d get involved, and in a very big way, simply by placing herself at his side. Definitely not what he wanted to see happen. She was a pit bull. Once she got a hold of something, she didn’t let go.
Not ever.
Not until the job was done.
Of course, if he didn’t keep his attention where it belonged, he was going to become a job, of sorts, himself, when his associates had to track down his killer. He felt the warning ripple down his spine and jerked aside just in time to evade the downward stroke a wicked-sharp Kel-Tech knife. It wasn’t big enough to take his head off unless somebody was either very patient, very fast or very strong. The demon-possessed man in front of him looked to be very, very strong, even without aid of the demon that had settled inside his body. His body was no longer his own, though. It belonged to the demon. He was nothing more than a host—basically just a vehicle for the monster inside.
The demon was called a paraisei—sounds a lot like parasite and that’s exactly what this kind of demon was. A parasite. It picked out a victim, set up housekeeping and whittled away at the victim’s will until the human was no longer strong enough to fight. Once they reached that point, there was no saving the victim. They were trapped until the victim was either killed or the body gave out.
With the paraisei, it didn’t take long for one of those endings to come about. They were vicious and a lot of them ended up going on murderous rampages, the kind that often ended up in death.
Since the demon didn’t need food to live, those paraisei-infected humans who didn’t meet a bloody, brutal end had the pleasure of dying of thirst and starvation.
Usually, the demon vacated its host right before death. The only way to kill one of the monsters was to kill the host before the demon left it. To Rip’s eyes, the face was still human. Barely. It had probably only been a few days since the paraisei had taken complete control.
The typical person looking at the demon-possessed wouldn’t see anything but the insanity lurking inside his eyes.
The demon wasn’t insane.
It was actually very sane—functioning exactly as his kind did. Feeding on the misery of others, taking them over. It was too late for this one—the demon was in control and the only way Rip would set this poor bastard free was if he killed the paraisei inside.
“Aren’t you due a nap, Grimm?”
Rip was startled. Not at the raspy, obviously inhuman voice that came from the man’s throat, but by the words. The paraisei knew him. He pushed the surprise aside. It was something he’d worry about later.
He was curious, though. The paraisei knew him. Not many in the world did—within the Circle, among the demons, anywhere.
Curling his lips in a smile, he said, “Don’t worry…dealing with you is going to leave me so bored, I may just sleep for a week. When I’m done.”
Her Happy-Ever-After has been a long time coming…
No Prince Charming
© 2010 Shiloh Walker
Elle spent years trying to get over her so-called Prince Charming, and she’s finally getting the hang of it. A Grimm—a guardian angel with unique gifts—she spends her nights trolling for demons and kicking ass, and lately, her days have been spent with her on-and-off-again lover, Ren, a fellow Grimm. But fate has other plans in store for Elle, plans that include Michael, the prince from her youth who broke her heart.
“What do you choose…live for her? Or would you rather die?” That was the choice Michael was given all those years ago. Although he knew she’d never forgive him, when Michael was given the chance to become a Grimm, he took it. Still, he isn’t so sure Elle needs him in her life. With a lover at her side and a mission before her, Elle looks like she’s doing just fine without him.
But the not-so-charming prince isn’t going to back off that easily…not if there’s a chance she might need him again. He’d do anything to save her. Kill for her, live for her, die for her…
Warning: This dark, twisted version of Cinderella involves demons, deceit, desire, and debauchery between a princess and two sexy guardian angels, both determined to win the fair Cinderella.
Enjoy the following excerpt for No Prince Charming:
“We’ve got to get inside tonight,” I told Ren. Halfway across the parking lot, I picked up my pace. “It’s getting darker in there. We’re going to lose more if we don’t move soon.”
There was so much life…so much emotion.
Lust. Anger. Jealousy. Need. Love. Rage. Hatred.
Emotions—uncontrolled emotions drew predators. That’s why the demons were here. Wherever there were people there would be emotion. And wherever there was emotion there would be demons.
Wherever there are demons there would be Grimms.
There would be us. Unlikely guardian angels trying to keep the unsuspecting mortals from making bad, bad and worse mistakes.
That was our job. We would do it. We would do the job. We would deal with the succubi and incubi. We would find the king or queen and eliminate them. Then Ren or I would hang around long enough to make it clear this area was now under the Circle’s watch.
If I had my way about it, it would be Ren hanging around. If at all possible, I wanted to clear the hell out the second we dealt with the king or queen.
I was planning on getting out of Ohio as quick as possible.
Maybe head for New York this time. Or Chicago—
No. Screw that. I was going to Milan. And the Circle could pick up the damn ticket, too.
I’d asked for a break and I’d ended up with an assignment instead.
They owed me that break, damn it.
I took a deep breath and glanced down at my clothes. Barbie goes badass. That was the look I’d been going for. I had on a black silk corset and, unlike some of the corsets I’d seen around lately, mine was the real thing—it pushed my boobs together and up, cinched my waist and kept my spine ramrod straight.
I was as comfortable in one as anybody could hope to be, but then again, I’d had a lot of practice. I’d grown up wearing these things when I had to—thanks to a doting father, I hadn’t spent my entire childhood in one.
But I had worn them often enough.
Never one quite like this though. Black-on-black silk brocade with blood-red lacing. I’d paired it with leather pants and heels that would break my neck—if I fell, and if I could break my neck in such a mundane manner. Which I can’t. I’d pulled my blonde hair into a high ponytail, gone a little heavy with the black eyeliner and red lipstick.
Barbie does badass, with a little bit of Dominatrix Barbie thrown in for good measure.
“You look delicious,” Ren said as he kissed one bare shoulder. “You sure you don’t have a whip lying around?”
“Oh, please.” I smirked at him and took a few seconds to adjust the bodice. I had my pendant tucked between my breasts. Wasn’t very comfortable, but I couldn’t afford to have the wrong person see it, nor could I afford to be without it. There wasn’t any room for weapons on me, but that had been intentional.
I wanted to look around this first trip in, not fight. I’d made that clear to Ren as well, but he’d have weapons on him. I knew that as sure as I knew my own name.
Still, I knew I could trust him not to draw them unless he had to.
I just hoped nobody forced his hand…or mine. I might not have weapons, but I’m pretty far from helpless.
The air closer to the building felt hot and heavy, a warning of what lay inside.
I’d known from the get-go this wouldn’t be a quick, easy job. I might have b
een harboring hopes, but they were dying, fading, withering away with every second I remained close to this abyss of darkness.
“Should be a piece of cake,” he had told me. Those had been my boss’s exact words.
“Will, one of these days, I’m going to kick your ass,” I said to myself.
“Hmmm?”
I shook my head. “Just grumbling about Will. He had the nerve to say this should be an easy job.”
“Well, so far all I’ve done is make out with you in view of others and watch other people making out as well,” Ren shot me his trademark devilish smile and in a low voice added, “Seems remarkably easy.”
“Your luck is about to break.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t going to be quick. We would have to kill while we were here. Not tonight, but sometime before the job was over. I knew it as sure as I was standing there. Possession by succubi or incubi was subtle…a seduction. It started out as just a minor need. Sex—something pleasant…maybe even harmless.
But the more the victim fed that need—through sex, naturally—the stronger the hold. It was like an addiction.
In the early days it was possible to rid the victim of the demon’s presence. Possible, but not easy, and the longer it went on the harder it would become.
Sooner or later, without intervention, the demon would be in control and the need for sex would dominate over anything else. Everything else.
Either the victim literally screwed themselves to death—forgoing food, water, anything and everything that wasn’t sex. The other scenario—the need for sex became so overwhelming they lost all inhibitions and all sense of right and wrong.
I’d saved people in the past before one of the possessed could rape them.
Somebody in there was already too far gone. Either they were killing themselves without realizing it, or I’d have to kill them when they went too far. Personally, I’d rather find whoever it was and just end it now.
A waste. Such a waste. Somebody had given up everything.
Crazed Hearts: Grimm’s Circle, Book 3 Page 12
