Authors: Patti O'Shea
"You really love me?" she asked.
"I really do. You're more than I dared dream of. I know what your next argument will be—the vishtau bond does not promise any deep emotion will develop. But how could I not fall in love with you? You're special, so much more than I deserve. The most important thing, though, is how I feel when I'm with you. It's as if I'm complete, as if the part of me that I never realized was missing has been given back."
She relaxed enough to lean into him.
"If I didn't mention the vishtau again, it's because I worried over your reaction," Nic admitted. "I didn't want you to feel pressured by me, or to feel that you had no choice. You do."
"No, I don't. I love you, too, Nic. I want no one else."
"Are you certain?" He looked impossibly hopeful.
She nodded and he leaned down to kiss her, his touch adoring, but much too brief.
"There's a bonding ritual," Nic said, sounding cautious. "It's permanent. Normally, it doesn't affect humans, but because of your power, you'll be as tied to me as I am to you."
"And that's a problem because...?"
"It isn't a problem, not as long as you're fully aware of what you'll be signed up for. There'll be no other mate for either of us for as long as we live."
As far as Kimi was concerned, she'd already made that commitment. She told him that.
His lips curved. "You're not getting the best end of the bargain, I know that, but you do get one benefit. Remember when I told you the kijo develops demon physiology after the rite?" He waited for her nod. "I've been doing some reading and your life span will lengthen to that of a demon's as well."
"Good," she said, leaning into his chest, "because sixty years with you won't be enough. I need at least three hundred." And going up on her toes, Kimi felt true happiness awakening inside her. She kissed him. Now she had what she truly wanted—the power to be forever with Nic.
§ § §
Nationally bestselling author Patti O'Shea has won numerous awards for her writing and been nominated for many more. Her books have appeared on the Barnes & Noble, Waldenbooks, and Borders bestseller lists and have earned starred reviews in prestigious publications such as
Publishers Weekly
and
Booklist
.
Through a Crimson Veil — A Crimson City Novel
When a sexy half demon asks Conor McCabe for protection, he can't say no and he doesn't understand why. He hates demons. He doesn't want to help her. He doesn't want to want her, but every minute he spends with her strengthens his need to keep her safe—and intensifies the desire burning between them.
Mika Noguchi sought out Conor to steal the key that can free all demons imprisoned in Orcus. She quickly regrets her mission—Conor is her destined mate and he'll view her theft as betrayal—but she gave her word to the council and the penalty for breaking it is severe.
Other demons are loose in Crimson City, however, and they have their own plans. They're not about to let anyone stand in the way. Not Conor. Not Mika. They'll do anything it takes to advance their agendas—even kill. (2006 Booksellers Best Award Winner — Best Paranormal)
The Light Warriors Series
Blood Feud World Stories
For Melissa Lynn Copeland, my fabulous writing buddy. Reading this story fresh off the plane from Europe is above and beyond—you're the best, Mel!
I'd like to thank:
Susan in California who emailed me one day and asked for Kimi and Nic. I hope you think their story was worth waiting for.
The Lunatic Café gang who came up with dozens of title ideas.
And a big thank you to Joely Sue Burkhart who suggested the name that was used for this story.
The award winning and best-selling Crimson City series is set in an action-packed Los Angeles where humans, vampires, and werewolves are barely managing to make their co-existence work. Throw in a few demons, mechs and druids and peace is starting to look pretty impossible. Authors Liz Maverick, Patti O'Shea, Carolyn Jewel and Jade Lee bring the world of Crimson City to life.
Find out more at
Crimson City.com
A Time to Howl by Liz Maverick
Chapter One
The doorman at the ground level of Dumont Tower touched his earpiece, his leather-clad index finger delicate against the metal. His coat looked as it did every afternoon, as if he'd removed it from a sea of unwrinkled tissue for just this one day. He wore his top hat perfectly straight; his face exhibited a kind of blank confidence that never let on that the archaic accessory might be slightly bizarre in the context of the current century. Across the street, from a perch atop a mailbox fused shut back when postal service ended, Tajo Maddox mused that it hadn't seemed bizarre for some time now.
Yes, even the humans understood that with immortality came tradition. The styles, philosophies and behaviors of earlier centuries infused this latest incarnation of Los Angeles, blending modern and old-fashioned in a pastiche that made the place unlike any other; that made it Crimson City. And as the humans lost ground to the vampires and werewolves and found themselves in jeopardy from the other races they themselves had helped empower—the demons from the plane of Orcus, the mechs from the humans' own military labs—the present borrowed an ever-increasing number of elements from the past.
One thing hadn't changed for years: The richest and most powerful group in Crimson City was still the Dumonts, one of the pureblood vampire clans collectively referred to as primaries. They'd had centuries to perfect their operations, and it showed. From this doorman at the bottom of Dumont Tower to whatever the hell went on in the penthouse war rooms at the top.
Tajo's own group had not enjoyed the luxury of time. The Rogues were new players in Crimson City. Glancing down at Hayden Wilks, Bridget Hathaway, and Jillian Cooper sprawled along a concrete riser beside him, he had to marvel at how far they'd already come. Especially for a bunch of mercenaries and freelancers used to working alone.
They hadn't organized into an actual team until recently. It wasn't easy surviving as a rogue in Crimson City. You had no backup, no clan or family to run to for an army of help. People assumed the worst—that you had no sense of honor, no sense of mercy. People who wouldn't dream of killing a primary seemed perfectly able to justify killing a rogue. What really talked in this town, what safety really demanded, was power.
So a bunch of rogues teamed up. The idea of thumbing their noses at the rigidity and insularity of the purebred clans by forming a mixed species superpower appealed to the rebel in all of them. They'd even chipped in and bought an underground club to turn into a headquarters. They'd dubbed it the Rogues Club, and just like that the city was put on notice. Except, not everyone had noticed. Yet.
Tajo jumped off the mailbox and sat down next to Hayden. The two cased the area in mutual silence, waiting, wondering, wary. Without turning away from her surveillance, Bridget stuck her hand out; Hayden took a last puff and gently laid his cigarette in the V of her fingers.
Jill leaned back as Bridget took a drag, coughing and waving away the smoke even as she darted nervous eyes to the dove cooing on the overhang above her head.
Yeah, this was a solid bunch, a good team. In time, they'd be great. In time, they'd be ranked right up there on the Crimson City power scale alongside the Dumont vampire primaries, the Maddox werewolf clan from whom Tajo had long ago exiled himself, and most certainly the human government that had once seemed so indestructible.
"Time?" Hayden asked.
"About three minutes since you last asked. Maybe you could ask Jill to get you a watch for your birthday," Tajo muttered.
Hayden turned back to Tajo. "I'm holding out for something more personal," he said with a cocky tip of his head.
Tajo followed the gesture to Jill, who was sitting by Bridget on the end. She fiddled with her field glasses, then pointed them up the facade of Dumont Tower for the umpteenth time. Two seconds later, she lowered them and looked down, a wounded expression darkening her face. Jill was supposed to be thinking about the Rogue job, but it was obvious it was her doomed bond with Marius Dumont making her search the Tower so intently.
Tajo kept his mouth shut this time, wishing he hadn't joked about it. Hayden had been circling Jill since she joined the Rogues. So far, his interest seemed to be as much about revenge against the Dumonts as it was about the girl herself.
CHAPTER 1
The way the briefing room went silent Hell Marshall knew she was on the outside of an inside joke. Jim West, Chief Division Agent for U.S. Internal-Operations in the City of Los Angeles, gripped the projector remote in one hand and a red penlight in the other. I-Ops was the law enforcement and surveillance arm of the government. Battlefield Operations was military, the muscle on the streets. I-Ops was pencil-pushers, spooks and cops and a few other things nobody admitted. West signaled one of the field agents to hit the lights. The room went dark. He clicked the remote and two seconds later Hell understood the silence. Shit.
"This is from a surveillance camera installed at the Golden Wing Spa and Health Center," West said. The camera had been placed behind the reception desk, so the back of a perky blonde head occasionally blocked a portion of the screen. Tuan Ng was clearly visible in the right corner of the shot.
Hell didn't move. Didn't change her expression. West was looking at her. Everyone was looking at her. She could feel it, but she kept her eyes glued to the screen. She didn't work for I-Ops anymore. They'd fired her ass nine months ago, and that meant her personal life was nobody's fucking business. She was here because Milos Sanders, Director of I-Ops in Crimson City, was the only friend she had left. Well, that and the promises he'd made to get her back for this assignment.
She wished she had the nerve to give up L.A. and move to her aunt Lucy's beach house in Bodega Bay. Her aunt wanted someone she trusted in the house. She could open a little coffee shop and serve killer espresso and sandwiches. At night she could sit on the porch, eat salt water taffy, breathe fresh air and watch the stars. It was a stupid fantasy, but it was all hers.
In the video, the perky receptionist kept looking in Tuan's direction. Tuan Ng was movie-star handsome and, now that Hell wasn't seeing him, notoriously available. If these jackass agents expected a scene, they were destined for disappointment. Her relationship with the vampire had been doomed from the start because he was a fang, and she wasn't.
On screen, the lobby door opened and one of the most beautiful men Hell had ever seen in her life walked in. He wore loose trousers and no shirt, and he had the pecs, abs and everything else to pull off the look plus more. His black hair was held back by two narrow braids that started at his temples and secured his long hair in a pony tail. Silver threads gleamed in the braids. His skin bordered on bronze, and he was ripped. Seriously, beautifully, ripped without looking like he spent hours in the gym. What was a guy like that doing in a place like the Golden Wing?