Kiss of Death

By Seleste deLaney

Too many years of killer vamps have triggered the curse of the Blood Kissed. They've awakened the bloodline that can alter their world, because her blood has the power to control them all--even make them destroy each other. Jocelyn thought her troubles with vampires were over when she drove a stake through her boyfriend Max's heart one year ago. Even though she's engaged to Chad, she's never really forgotten him. Now Max is back, and Chad is taking her into the heart of the vamp community--and they're the ones trying to keep her alive. The ones who love her and each seek to claim her for their own. Because once the elders know who she is, they're all going to want her...or want her dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seleste deLaney
• Release date: Oct 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310914041

Seleste deLaney

At a young age, Seleste deLaney discovered the trick to not being afraid of the monsters under the bed was to turn them into heroes. Since that time, she’s seen enough of human monsters that she prefers to escape to fictional worlds where even the worst demons have to play by the rules and the good guys might end up battered and bruised (or dead), but they always win. And really, isn’t that the way it should be?She resides in the Detroit area with all her favorite monsters (nice ones—some are furry and the others call her Mom) and is hard at work on her next book. In those rare moments when she isn’t battling terrorists, vampires, or rogue clockworks, she can be found all over the Internet, where she loves to interact with readers.

Book preview

Kiss of Death

A Blood Kissed Novel

Seleste deLaney

Kiss of Death

Copyright © 2012 by Seleste deLaney

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Cover Art © 2015 by Skyla Dawn Cameron

Edited by Skyla Dawn Cameron

Second Edition October 2015

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

Dedication

To all the demons who have played well with mine: Thanks for your love and friendship. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Prologue

The alley wasn’t the cleanest place in the world, but none of the women tonight had seemed to mind. Every single one had followed Marco out the back door of Whiskey River and into the shadowy depths; he hadn’t even had to use his power. When he steered this one between the buildings, she didn’t pause. In fact, she sashayed down the narrow stream of standing water in front of him, providing the perfect view of her pert ass in a skirt short enough to stop traffic.

As far as Marco was concerned, she could have had legs like tree trunks. Her beauty didn’t matter to him, but he knew well enough women found him attractive. Stepping out with someone too low on the sliding scale of appearance would have drawn way too much attention, and he only wanted the attention of one at a time. And right now the athletic blonde in front of him would more than suffice.

Once they’d passed the dumpsters, he gripped her elbow and tugged her to the side of the alley farthest from the club. We’re deep enough no one will see us here, baby.

The blonde shot a furtive glance toward the street, but the dumpster blocked most of her view and she turned back to him with a smile. Shoving at his chest, she flung him against the wall and pressed her body against his, kissing him hungrily.

This one was feisty; she’d be more fun than the others. They’d wanted him to take the lead, which was fine but dull. He hadn’t bothered prolonging the time he spent with them. After all, the alley was dirtier than he liked, too. He wrapped his fingers in the long blond tresses and pushed his tongue into her mouth.

She pulled away and shook her head. Honey, you might have the face of a movie star and a better body than most of them, but you are a horrible kisser. He snarled at her, and she had the nerve to laugh as she worked her hand between their bodies and cupped his groin, massaging him through his jeans. If you’re going to put something in my mouth, let’s at least make it something good. She took half a step back and undid his pants with her other hand.

The need for a response disappeared as his erection swelled. The blonde grinned and sank to her knees, sliding the zipper down and freeing his cock as she went. Her mouth was on him before he had time for second thoughts.

Not that Marco had any intention of telling her to stop. He hadn’t been around long enough for a hot, willing mouth to have lost its appeal. He sank against the wall, hands still tangled in her hair as she took him in long, slow strokes which left him wondering if he hadn’t had enough tonight. Certainly he didn’t need this one. She moved faster, taking all of him in until he felt the tip of his cock bumping the back of her throat. He let out a low moan, which only seemed to encourage her.

In another life, this woman would have been a prized possession. Even among those trained to satisfy a man, few had done this so well. Her hand found his shaft, pumping him as she licked and sucked at his tip.

Yes, he’d let this one live. Maybe he’d even visit her again.

Muscles tightening as he neared release, Marco moved to pull back, not wanting to take advantage now since he’d decided to let her go. The woman had other plans though, and grabbed his ass, holding him steady as she took all of him into her mouth. As he rammed the back of her throat again, his toes curled and his fingers pressed into her skull. Then the orgasm shook his body. He felt the warmth of his semen flooding her mouth, but still she sucked on him, taking every last drop of it before pulling away and licking her lips.

Marco sagged against the wall as she zipped him back up, his fingers slowly disengaging from her hair.

Haven’t had it quite like that before, have you? If I could just teach you to kiss, you might be worth keeping around. She pushed up from the ground and staggered backward on her stilettos. He tried to grab her a second too late, and the blonde fell, landing with a muffled thump and a curse. Damn shoes.

Trying to keep his breath steady, Marco reached out. Here, let me help you.

Nah, I’m fine. Bracing her hands beneath her, she shoved, but the object under her rolled. When she looked down, all Marco’s plans for letting her go disappeared.

The best he could do now was hope no one heard her scream. He was on her as the sound first shattered the night air. The moment his fangs pierced her skin and he sent his power into her, the noise dissipated to a keening whine. Her blood, so hot from her excitement and tinged with the taste of fear, ran over his tongue like a rare vintage. Marco’s lips curled against her neck as his other hand covered her mouth, hoping to dampen the rest of the sound.

He’d thought about letting this one live, but now he knew better. Sex and terror made them taste too good to pass up an opportunity like this one again.

****

The vampire sensed his brethren a moment before he heard the woman scream. By the time he made it to the alley, it was too late. The vacant look in her eyes told him she’d never survive long enough for an ambulance to arrive.

And the three other bodies lying haphazardly beneath her were already past saving.

Four of them, all freshly dead. No vampire needed that much. He scented the air and caught the reek of blood and stomach acid from farther in the darkness; his lips curled into a snarl. The bastard wasn’t keeping the blood.

This was what was wrong with his people. Killing not because of food or safety, but for sport—for fun.

The vampire stalked down the alley, only stopping when he stood directly behind the one feeding. On his knees over the dead girls, the murderous vamp tore his mouth away from the blonde woman’s neck, taking a chunk of flesh and muscle with him. He spat it into the darkness and snarled, Get your own. There’s plenty inside.

Maybe, but the one I want is right here. The vampire pulled a blade from under his coat, fifteen inches of hardened silver tempered with holy water and honed to an edge able to slice through damn near anything. Not long enough for battle, but more than sufficient for his plans. He swung the blade, bracing himself as it met with the other vampire’s spine. The jolt passed quickly enough as the metal shattered the bone and continued its path through the air; the murderer’s body disintegrated.

With a satisfied smile, the vampire sheathed the blade. Before he turned away, a sound by his feet gave him pause. The human wasn’t dead yet.

She tried to raise a hand toward him, but a couple inches off the ground, it fell back, her knuckles rapping the cement, skin tearing. Tears shone like glitter in her green eyes, begging for his help.

He sucked in a breath and sought the sound of her heart. As he’d suspected, she didn’t have long, minutes at best. But if he left her like this, she’d be in agony until she finally passed. Reaching down, he cupped her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes, sending a wave of calming energy through her mind. Then he gave her neck a sharp twist. Her corpse tumbled to the ground with the others.

With her dead, there was nothing to stop him from removing the evidence of the crimes committed here. He pulled a lighter from his pocket—in a few minutes, all trace of vampires would be gone.

****

Salvatore Nago sauntered down the street, certain he was heading home with nothing to show for a night spent hunting for Goddamned Hell spawn. He was sick of coming up empty-handed. Hell, his fucking little sister, tracker-extraordinaire, had pegged the house they raided earlier in the week. It seemed like she could smell the damn things. Sal wanted to redeem himself, but it wasn’t happening tonight. Without her skills, he had to rely on luck, cunning, and brute strength. He kicked at a chunk of concrete, his steel-toed boot sending it in an arc down the sidewalk. It skittered into the alley past Whiskey River when it landed.

Following its course, he caught sight of the vampire just as he snapped the blonde woman’s neck. Dark hair, eyes flashing in the glow of the street lamps. There was no time to wait for backup, the bloodsucker would be gone without a trace in seconds. He raced down the alley, plowing into the creature as it thumbed a Zippo and the lighter blazed to life.

A stake in his hand before they crashed to the concrete, Sal tried to land the blow through the vampire’s back, but the thing hit the ground on all fours and bounded out of reach like an animal. The stench of burning plastic hit him as the bag next to the girl’s body erupted, the flames no doubt fed by some not-quite-empty liquor bottles inside. Since the blonde was past saving, he ignored the blaze and raced after the vampire.

Pulling out a crossbow, he fired, the bolt hitting the retreating vamp in the shoulder. Stop right there, you dirty ass bloodsucker.

The thing did stop, reaching a hand back and yanking the wood-tipped bolt from his flesh. Sal had another loaded already, but something in the vampire’s stance gave him pause. I’m not the one you should be after, human. I’m trying to keep your kind alive.

By snapping necks in back alleys? Not buying it.

Then maybe you should look closer. The ashes of one of my brethren coat the ground near the girls. He killed them; I merely ended the last one’s suffering.

The vamp made no move to turn, offering Sal a clear shot at his back. Sal’s finger twitched on the trigger, wanting the kill but wanting to understand the creature’s words as well. And you’re just going to come back there nicely with me to check?

No, you’re going to confirm it all on your own. I am going to leave.

The crossbow jerked under his hands as Salvatore squeezed the trigger, but the vamp was already gone, disappearing like so much dust. Damn it. Sal stalked back down the alley, flashlight dancing over the ground. The fire had spread, illuminating not just the blonde, but three other women—all beautiful, all dead. Dirt and grime coated the cement beneath his feet, but there were no ashes to be found, only a light dusting of something gray on the blonde’s clothes. No way was it enough to be a person...or demon...or whatever they were.

Sal glared back down the alley. He had to stash his weapons so he could call 911. Stomping back to the street, his hands clenched the crossbow until the wood bit into his skin. Whatever had made him hesitate back there, he wouldn’t let it happen again. The next vamp died. And the one after that. Until their plague was erased from the earth.

Chapter 1

The dead man peered around the corner of Pierce and Martin, watching the woman in the red dress. Of course, Max had been dead as far as most humans would be concerned for a long time, far longer than the few months since Jocelyn Reyes pierced his heart with a stake. As far as vampires were concerned though, he was barely an adolescent, albeit one with far more power than most of them would care for. He narrowed his eyes as a man wearing a fedora strode up to his target.

The tightness in Max’s muscles didn’t ease until the man walked by her without more than a passing glance. The recent trend toward old fashions was driving Max crazy. It was bad enough trying to keep an eye on Jocelyn from the shadows without worrying that every person walking by in a pin-up dress or double-breasted suit was a crazy vampire stuck in a time-warp rather than fashion-conscious banker.

And then there was Jocelyn herself.

Max had promised to leave her alone, to stay out of her life unless she needed him. Yet how could he know when that time would be unless he watched her? Though part of him railed against the logic, he refused to accept that keeping track of her meant he was breaking his word. She moved through life like she believed her troubles had died with him when nothing could be further from the truth.

Besides, when he didn’t follow her, he dreamed about her every time he closed his eyes, and they were never good dreams. The ones that brought back the searing pain of her plunging the stake into his chest with hate in her eyes were better than those where he saw her die a thousand deaths, each more gruesome than the last.

So he watched and wished he’d never made the promise in the first place. If he hadn’t, at least he could have talked to her, explained the danger and why he’d lied when they were together. Why he’d never told her he was a vampire or why he fed on her. Instead he was forced to lurk and protect her from afar while every glance stabbed at him with longing.

Her dark hair fell in cascading waves down her back and swayed as she walked, following the path of the red skirting that swished around her legs. Since taking the advertising assistant position at Harris, she’d started carrying herself differently, with more confidence—the woman Max had always known she could be. She stopped at a traffic light and squinted toward the sun. With a gentle shrug, her jacket fell away, revealing toned, tanned arms.

Even with just this innocent glimpse of skin, he ached to touch her. The pain, ironically enough, centered in his chest—the very place she’d stabbed him less than a year ago. As he moved from his hiding place to sink into another shadow down the block, Max’s hand rubbed at the puckered circle below his sternum. The scar was just one more sign of his strength, and his weakness, one he could have done without. The elders might not have heard of his unfortunate demise last spring, but if they ever saw the mark there, they’d know he’d come back. And it wouldn’t go over well.

The elders could survive all sorts of attempts on their lives; as far as Max knew only beheading and burning to ash, then scattering of the remains would destroy one for sure. Because if the vamp was old enough, beheading alone wouldn’t do it, and a stake to the heart just hurt like a son of a bitch.

But those were elders. At less than a century old, Max shouldn’t have had the power to regenerate, not wholly. Not from ashes. He clenched his hand into a fist and studied his arm. Between the infusion of Jocelyn’s blood over the holidays and the careful drinks from humans nightly since, he’d come back. His skin was tight and smooth, the scars from his old life all but erased. He wasn’t back to his former strength yet, but he was close. Damn close.

If the elders found out, they’d find a way to kill him, no matter what it took. Because in the vampire world, you were only supposed to rise through the ranks with age. Every decade of life was one where you weren’t caught or killed. Centuries meant you were smart and strong. Regardless of whether or not Max saw himself that way, the elders wouldn’t. They’d only see his age and look at him as a threat they needed to remove.

But only if he got caught.

Which meant he had to be careful and keep a low profile. So watching from the shadows as Jocelyn ducked into the parking garage was his safest choice. She’d be on her way home soon, and she’d be secure enough there, tucked away from the world and behind the magical barrier that protected her from the vampires.

At the same time, Max couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion he’d seen her boyfriend before, and the knowledge kept circling his brain like a gnat, too tiny to grab hold of but annoying nonetheless. The man visited constantly, but at least she hadn’t moved in with him—that would have twisted the knife in Max’s gut enough to make him crumble at last.

No. Her boyfriend was like an insect too, buzzing around. Only one question remained: when he landed at last, exactly how deadly would his bite be?

****

Jocelyn slammed the door of her twelve-year-old sedan, shaking her head and wondering if the rust-bucket would hold together until fall when she could get a deal on this year’s models somewhere. Plus, by then she’d have saved up enough cash from the new job for a nice down payment.

Though her stance was loose while she stood by the car, her senses were anything but quiet. After almost a year of self-defense and martial arts training, she’d learned to take full stock of her surroundings before making any rash moves. There’d been more than one woman attacked in the area and, even though the attacks happened months ago, Jocelyn couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched and cornered like prey. Tonight the only sound was the branches creaking in the wind, and nothing sent a jolt of fear down her spine. She carried her briefcase inside, making sure the security door latched behind her. Safety always came first, even when nothing seemed wrong—even though vampires needed permission to enter.

Another check in the hall and she unlocked her door. Nikita squeezed through the opening and twined between her legs, mewling displeasure. Jocelyn sat her briefcase inside and scooped up the whining ball of blue-gray fur. Put a lid on it. I wasn’t gone any longer today than every other day I go to work.

However, as she eased the door shut behind her and dropped the cat to the carpet, her left hand dipped into her pocket, thumbing her phone on, as her right flipped open the clasp on her purse—both a stake and pepper spray in easy reach. No matter how safe she felt, she had to be sure. Her eyes darted to the sliding glass door. Shut tight, with the security bar firmly in place. Then toward her tiny kitchen. Both doors had been locked, and other than howling for food, Nikita seemed normal enough.

With one hand still on her phone and her purse hanging open, Jocelyn moved toward the kitchen. Fine. Fine. I’ll feed you. Her back to the wall, she turned toward the space behind the bar. Empty. Her eyes flicked toward the bedrooms, but really, Nikita would have been pacing outside the door, hissing if anyone had been there. Jocelyn shook off her nerves, scooped some kibble into the bowl, and placed it on an upper perch of the cat tree. In two leaps, Nikita ascended and started crunching into her food. I don’t know what you’re in such a rush for anyway. Chad’s going to be here for dinner soon.

The cat stopped chewing, raised her head, dark green eyes narrowing, and let out a hiss.

Jocelyn spun around, but the kitchen was so tiny, no one could have stood behind her anyway. She lifted a brow at the cat. You really can’t stand him, can you? She ruffled Nikita’s short fur. Well, he was here first, so you better get used to him. The cat’s only response was an impertinent flick of her tail. Jocelyn chuckled. And I better get dinner started.

Half an hour later, Jocelyn sat at the dining room table, the contents of her briefcase strewn across its surface. She’d told Andrew this campaign was all wrong weeks ago, but no one would listen then. Now that the client had rejected it, everyone expected her to clean up their mess. Or else they were re-working it as a group and gave this to her just to keep her out of everyone’s hair. She shoved the mock-ups away with a sigh and arched her back as she glanced at the clock.

Chad should have been there by now. Even Nikita was anxious, sitting in front of the slider with her tail twitching, stabbing at the air then sinuously moving to poke in a different direction. Once the cat had become a permanent fixture in the apartment—as opposed to the patio she’d first made her home—Jocelyn had thought the eerie staring was a sign she wanted to leave again. But when she had held the door open, those wise green eyes had just looked at her like she was an idiot. She’d stopped bothering to open the door a couple months ago.

This time, Jocelyn wandered over to the slider and stared out toward the parking lot, waiting for