Bloodstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 1)

By Amber Kallyn

When duty forces a shaman to stop a vampire from her revenge, love doesn’t just burn... it bites.

For two hundred years, Niki DeVeraux has hunted the monster who murdered her family, and made her a vampire. She finally catches up to her sire, only to face more than she bargained for. Local vampire clans don’t care for rogues. And the local sheriff, too sexy for his own good, seems to want nothing more than to get in her way. Worse, he stirs something in Niki she’s ignored since her turning, and forces her to remember she’s not just a warrior, but a woman.

Bound by his duties both as local Keeper of the Peace, and sheriff, Shane Spencer must protect humanity, while preventing the recent conflicts between the werewolves and vampires from becoming an all out blood war. When wolves start turning up dead, tensions between the pack and vampire clan grow. Suspicions fall to the only rogue in town, Niki. Yet, Shane knows she’s not to blame. And it has nothing to do with the hot, primal emotions she stirs within him.

Shane and Niki must work together to stop the bloodshed. Trouble is, the desires raging between them might prove more dangerous than the surrounding threats.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber Kallyn
• Release date: Jul 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476192178

Amber Kallyn

One of those rare breeds, Amber Kallyn is an Arizona native who can trace her family's history through six generations in the state. She lives with her four very active children. Included in the menagerie are four cats (though there's always room for more) and a snake. Amber loves the paranormal, from dragons to werewolves to vampires. She's currently at work on her next book, probably running around the house acting out a fight scene with her collection of swords and daggers. Or maybe, wishing she had claws to practice the other fight scenes. A voracious lover of the written word, Amber found at an early age that she could read fast. Really fast. She devours novels by the day, novellas by the hour, and is always looking to get her hands on more. Website: AmberKallyn.com Twitter: twitter.com/HigleyBrowne Blogs: amberkallyn.wordpress.com and higleybrowne.wordpress.com Co-Author Blogs: 7evildwarves.wordpress.com and plotmamas.wordpress.com Or email her at: [e-mail]

Book preview

Prologue

The pitch black tunnel, complete with crumbling dirt walls and cobwebs, didn’t frighten Nicola DeVeraux.

The dark held nothing to fear.

She’d seen too many real monsters in the years since her death.

Besides, her night vision was as good as any normal human’s would be in the bright light of day.

Niki delicately stepped over a skeleton, then around the grisly remains of a wild boar. At the far end of the tunnel, candlelight flared to life, as if welcoming her into the witch’s den. She continued on, her boots stirring up dust. Ducked beneath the low arched entryway. Entered a small cave.

Walls glinted with a mix of crystalline dirt and flecked stone. The scent of a nearby spring layered heavy moisture in the air. In the center of the roomy area stood a long rectangular table, covered by black velvety cloth.

Strange items, some unrecognizable at first—or even second—glance, littered the top.

Ye came.

Startled at the gravelly, androgynous voice suddenly behind her, Niki grabbed for the dagger at her waist, and spun around.

The old crone cackled, her grin nearly toothless. Stringy gray hair straggled around her dark, plump, wrinkled face.

Niki studied the old woman.

Unsurprisingly, she’d looked just as ancient a hundred years ago as she did now. Still chuckling, Jezamine glided to the table. I didn’t think ye’d answer my summons.

You asked me to come, old woman. I assume there’s a reason. Though the dark tunnel hadn’t scared Niki, this witch did. She forced herself to take another step, deeper inside, though she continued to tightly grip the hilt of the still-sheathed dagger at her hip.

Losing her mirth in an instant, Jezamine suddenly demanded, her tone sharp, What question do ye ask the gods?

Ignoring the tension roiling in her stomach, Niki moved to the woman’s side. They’re finally ready to answer me?

Ye know they take their time, girl. The old witch laughed again, but there was no amusement in it.

The sound sent skitters down Niki’s spine. You know my question. It hasn’t changed. She breathed deep, focusing on the woman. Asked, for at least the hundredth time, When will I finally find the man who murdered my family?

Jezamine hovered one hand over the table. Sprightly snatched up a silver goblet. The rim of the cup was etched with strange, deep markings. She shook the cup three times, then dumped the contents into a circle made from small, round crystals.

Human finger bones clattered against one another.

Jezamine bent over the table to study the bones. Hmm. Yes. Mmm. She poked at one, sticking above the others. But what ‘bout...

Niki eased to sit on one of the dark wooden stools, at the far end of the table.

The witch sprung upright.

Silently stared at Niki with her fathomless dark eyes for a very long moment.

Then, her dark lips stretched in a grimacing smile. It’s nearly yer birthday. Samhain be a good day for birthin’.

Niki clenched her fists in her lap. Not really.

Halloween was a cursed day to be born.

It had brought her nothing but pain. Brought her family nothing but death.

The old woman poked at the bones again. Maybe. Hmm. Yes. Soon.

Barely restraining herself from jumping to her feet, rushing the woman and demanding answers, Niki managed a croaked, if hopeful, Soon? Finally?

Jezamine ignored her to continue staring at the bones. Then, once more, she stood up.

Studied Niki with that depthless, seemingly all-knowing, gaze. Maybe ye be finding the monster ye seek. Maybe be getting some other kind of lucky. Her screeching laugh echoed from the cavern walls.

Shivers inched along Niki’s spine. Flooded into her legs. Thankfully she was sitting down. What do you mean, some other kind of lucky?

Jezamine’s dark eyes glittered. Girl, I don’t think ye want me telling. Don’t think the Fates want me telling.

Of course not.

That would be too easy.

And fate was nothing if not capricious.

But...

Then what about Thomas? Niki’s nails poked painfully into her palms as she focused—not on the past, or the horrid things that monster had done.

No.

Niki concentrated on the future taste of victory she’d feel, once she took his life.

Jezamine, as if reading her well, asked harshly, Lil’ girl. Why ye wanna spend all yer time tracking down pure evil?

Duty.

Duty?

Unable to hold back the flood this time, painful memories flooded Niki.

The Halloween ball.

Celebrating not just her seventeenth birthday, but her engagement as well. Her family’s plantation, deep in the bayou, had rung with music and laughter.

At least until dawn arrived, the sun shining down on nothing but death.

Niki shook it off the best she could.

For now.

Then she repeated the only answer she had. Duty. Thomas Montgomery owes me vengeance.

’Tis a fine line walked ‘tween revenge and justice. Jezamine shook her head, the corners of her lips drooping in a frown. Revenge could make yer soul dark as his.

I don’t care. In the far corner of the cave, wisps of white fog crept along the walls—whips few but Niki could see.

Soon, they would form into the shapes of those she loved, yet lost.

Those she fought for—the souls of the long dead.

Jumping to her feet, Niki turned away, determination surging through her veins. She asked the old woman, Can you tell me anything else that might help?

Jezamine walked around the table to face Niki, but her gaze sorrowfully took in the ghostly wisps along the edge of the cavern. Her voice was softer, holding a tinge of worry, as she said, ’Ware child. He who turned ye may also be the cause of yer downfall.

Niki lifted her chin, facing down the words of concern.

She’d face down the very Fates themselves, if need be.

Her only response was one of bitterness. As long as it’s not until after I’ve killed him.

Chapter 1

Shane Spencer finished the last of his beer, and set the empty mug on the table with a heavy sigh.

His deputy, Chase Campton, strode by. Slapped him on the back. Another re-election year well done, Sheriff.

The small crowd in the bar cheered in reply.

Rae, one of the waitresses, slipped another full mug onto Shane’s corner table. Aye, sheriff. This one’s on us, here at Henry’s.

He tipped his head politely and plastered on a smile, unable to fully join in the spirit.

All day, something dark had been hanging over the town.

Not that anyone else sensed it.

The press of darkness left Shane restless, enough that his only thought was to head to his childhood home. On the edge of town, the house sat along the border of the Apache reservation, and Moss Creek, Arizona.

Shane’s father, head shaman and seer, would know what this feeling meant.

Yet, as usual, doubt crept up inside Shane.

Questions, perpetually on his mind, whether he contemplated going home, or not.

How had the Fates passed over the eldest in their family line?

How could they have chosen Shane as their father’s successor, rather than his older brother, Brian?

It had never happened before in their tribe’s history.

Shane nursed his new beer.

Going home meant, most likely, running into Brian.

He wasn’t sure he was up for that today.

Or anytime soon.

The front door banged open, letting in a cold autumn breeze that swirled the smoky air. A small woman followed it in, stopping just inside the bar.

A hum whispered in the back of Shane’s mind. The air vibrated with unseen power. Even the deepest shadows shivered.

Everyone in the bar fell silent, turning nearly as one to look the woman’s way.

Long black hair framed a pale face. Tumbled over her shoulders like silk. Head held high, she scanned the room with her bright green gaze. She passed over Shane without pause.

Only to snap her stare right back to him.

Something sizzled in his blood. Magic filled the room. The hairs on his forearms rose.

All others in this place fell away, forgotten.

Only the two of them existed.

Shane’s heartbeat slowed. Skipped a beat. Then sped up like a racehorse barreling down a track. Caught in her strangely captivating gaze, he couldn’t move.

The doorframe towered over her slight form. Yet her body was ripe, lush with curves. Tight blue jeans emphasized her hips, the narrowness of her waist. And the sleeveless white tank showed her breasts off to perfection.

Shane swallowed, though his mouth was suddenly dry.

Her eyes widened. Even over the distance of the room, he heard her soft, feminine gasp.

Palms slick, he set his beer mug back on the table.

His blood screamed primitive urges... lust fully demanding he drag her off to his cave.

He shook his head.

This wasn’t like him.

Women, even the most beautiful, never affected him this way. He’d met with the rich and beautiful, including models and actresses galore, during his time in the big city.

Gathering the remaining shreds of his willpower, Shane closed his eyes. Called on the magic of his ancestors.

The spirits of the earth responded. Power surged through him. Magic prickled. Whispers, of the spirits in the nearby forests, filled Shane. Ignoring them to concentrate on what was here and now, he reopened his eyes.

Colorful hues surrounded everyone in the bar.

The woman’s aura struck Shane like a punch to the gut.

A deep maroon, with flecks of black, revealed exactly what she was.

Vampire.

And certainly not local.

Shane blinked again, letting the auras fade.

The woman finally looked away. Took another step into the bar.

As quickly as it had hit, the captivating hold on him—and nearly every last one of his senses—dissipated.

The magical power surging through the room, from the woman, disappeared.

People began to talk and laugh again.

Everything within Shane surged, pushed at him to go over and talk to her. It was his duty after all, in multiple ways. A strange vampire suddenly in town.

Yet, he remained sitting there, quite stunned at the compelling interest rising in his gut.

What the hell kind of vampire was she, to cause such a ranging attraction? Such instant lust?

So much for his usual even-temperament, and hard-to-tempt palate.

Ignoring everyone, the woman strode to the bar, her glare shouting, Don’t mess with me.

Though she didn’t look old enough to drink, let alone be inside any bar in the first place, the bartender immediately poured her a shot of whiskey.

Shane would be talking to Henry about it later.

First, he needed to figure out what this vampire was doing in Moss Creek.

Sure, the small mountain town was a hub of paranormal activity, with the local vampire clan and the shifter pack both taking advantage of the surrounding nature.

But rogues generally tended to stay out of places dominated by orderly clans, knowing the structure and politics handed down by the Magic Council.

And the Council didn’t like Rogues.

Neither did most clans.

Cupping the shot glass in her hands, the woman leaned towards Henry before the older man could walk away.

Shane tensed in his seat.

If this vampire was looking for a meal...

Henry murmured something.

The woman nodded abruptly. Disappointment flickered on her face. She downed her shot, then laid some money on the bar, before turning and striding out.

Shane waved to his deputy to come over. They’d follow her. See what she was up to.

Chase called back, Just a minute, boss.

With a sigh, Shane stared at the door, worried.

Was this vampire the cause of the darkness pressing on his senses all day?

Even if she wasn’t, what was a rogue doing in town?

The clan wouldn’t be happy.

Worst of all, was the lingering warmth in the pit of Shane’s stomach. The whispers of yearning still in his blood.

That piercing green gaze of hers had made him feel as if she’d somehow been able to see into his very soul.

Niki kept to the shadows of the forest as she skirted the parking lot. The only light came from a few dim bulbs along the building, and the blue neon sign on the roof, proclaiming someone called Henry owned this Spitfire Bar.

Senses alert, she quietly finished circling the parking area. Stopped near a clump of three trees on the other side. The trees marked a trail into the forest which she followed a short way, until coming to another large tree, this one marked with a painted red X.

How original. Yet this was where her contact had wanted to meet, so who was she to complain?

And, just like when she’d left a few minutes ago to check inside the bar, this place remained empty.

Was her contact a no-show?

It was nearly a half-hour later than their appointed time. Hell, Niki wasn’t quite sure why she was still here.

If he hadn’t promised such juicy information...

Her stomach grumbled lightly. She needed to eat soon. The blood she’d consumed earlier hadn’t been enough.

Without both blood, and food, her strength would wane.

She couldn’t afford that. Not now when she was, hopefully, so very close to her prey.

Finally.

So she’d give this snitch five more minutes.

Only three passed before the air whispered in the forest, behind her.

Niki turned, knife in hand, held down along her thigh.

Lookin’ for me? a hoarse, husky whisper drifted out of the darkness.

You Baal? Niki tried not to snort. Sometimes vampires tried on grandioseness, as if eternal life made them superman.

Which, she guessed, in some ways it did.

The man replied, Maybe. Depends. You got my money?

Sure. If you have the information you promised.

Lemme see the cash first.

With her free hand, Niki slowly reached into one front jean pocket,, and pulled out four, one-hundred dollar bills.

Like a flash from the dark, the snitch closed in and tried to grab for it.

Niki held tight. Information first.

The man stepped into a bit of moonlight, filtered through spreading tree branches above them.

With a sly grin, he stepped even closer. His eyes narrowed. Flushed blood red. Thin lips drew back, revealing two sharp fangs.

He chuckled cruelly. Instead of information, maybe I got something else for you.

She merely sighed. Let me guess. You’re not going to give me the information. Assuming a creep like you even knows anything.

Got that right. Confusion twisted his pale features, as if he didn’t quite follow. Then he grinned again. But you sure gonna give me something. Ain’t just money, either.

Never trust a snitch.

Shaking her head, Niki tucked the bills back in her pocket. Let’s get on with it then.

Baal’s grin twitched. His eyes flickered, following the money. Then he shook himself, confidence surging back.

She tightened her grip on her dagger. Watched him. Waiting.

He lunged.

Niki used his momentum to spin them both. She flung him against the trunk of the nearest tree.

His head slammed against the painted red X.

Damn it, he yelled, quickly recovering and charging her again.

She waited until he was close, then rammed her knee into his groin.

Not even vampires were immune to that pain.

The snitch dropped, screaming obscenities on his way down.

Slamming her boot onto his shoulder, Niki pushed him back onto the leaf-strewn ground—only a bit harder than necessary.

Bending over the sobbing guy, she stared hard, while letting the blade of her dagger wink in the moonlight.

Slow and soft, she told him, You know, it puts me in a bad mood when someone tries to screw with me. Now, here are your choices. You want to live, or die? She smiled. Permanently.

Shuddering, he replied in a choked voice, I-I got information.

Good boy. Go ahead. Tell me. Maybe I’ll give you the money and let you crawl away.

H-he’s here. In town. But sometimes he goes down to the city. But he always comes back.

Where in town?

The snitch shook his head. Dunno.

Niki waved her knife. Growled, Where?

Dunno. Swear I don’t. I’ve not been told.

She pressed her boot harder into his shoulder.

He screeched.

Distant, but too close for comfort, the bar door slammed open. Voices carried on the wind. Police radios crackled as a man demanded backup.

A large shadow flew from the trees. Smacked into Niki.

She hit the ground, already tucking and rolling. Jumping back to her feet, she held her knife front and ready.

Assessed the slight change in the situation.

Baal stood as well, though he wavered a bit. ’Bout time. You’re late.

The new guy grunted and bared his fangs.

Neither would be of much threat.

Niki taunted, Aw. How sweet. Takes two of you, huh? Guess you’re each just half a man by yourselves.

In the bar’s parking lot, voices rose in argument.

Cops. One wanting to follow the sounds of the fight, the other arguing they should wait for backup.

The vampires took the opportunity to rush Niki.

She ducked beneath swinging fists and grasping fingers. Not quite fast enough to dodge one of the numerous blows completely.

Nails sliced her cheek.

The tangy scent of blood welled into the air.

With quick fists, she rabbit punched Baal’s gut, sending him to his knees. Spun and kicked his friend. The newcomer stumbled back.

Both quickly rose once more, eyes hot with fury, as they attacked her again.

They fought, moving deeper into the trees, away from the bar and the humans who would soon interfere.

Niki slashed out with her dagger.

The new guy screamed to her satisfaction.

In the parking lot, the cops quit arguing. Footsteps slapped pavement, rushing toward the forest. Their steps were slow compared to the speed of this fight, but they’d be there soon enough.

Things needed to end quickly.

Niki certainly didn’t need the deaths of some small town cops on her conscience.

Power, and the thrill of the fight, fired her blood. Her vision grew sharp. Her canines descended.

Grinning at the men, she allowed her fangs to flash.

Baal blanched. Y-you didn’t say you was a vampire too.

Niki silently continued to grin.

When he stumbled over a tree root, she darted close. Slashed her blade towards his throat—hard enough to cut, but not kill.

Not someone like them.

He clawed for her arm, but Niki didn’t miss.

A sweet coppery tang bathed the air.

Baal clutched his throat, eyes wide with terror, and sank to his knees.

Idiot.

Couldn’t he tell the wound wasn’t mortal?

Not that she had time to pay it any mind. The other guy jumped back into the party with a roar.

He slipped past her defenses. Slammed a fist into