Blood Currency

By Jeffe Kennedy

Feeding the Vampire

Through good luck and healthy cowardice, Misty has survived the earthquakes that have torn the world apart, but has no skills to speak of. Or so she thinks. She does have blood, and someone must feed the vampire who has offered his protection and strength in exchange for sustenance. Feeding Ivan is a priority, and Misty finally serves a purpose. But when she awakens tied to his bed, an unwilling gift to Ivan from the townspeople, she discovers he has hungers other than blood. Hungers he expects her to satisfy in the most carnal manner. Under his seductive persuasion Misty discovers she has the power to sustain Ivan in all ways, while experiencing unspeakable pleasure herself.

Hunting the Siren

A vampire queen grown powerful with age, Imogen has protected her band of nightriders through the centuries. When refugee vampires from earthquake-shattered Europe seek shelter and sustenance, she’s honor-bound to feed them, by any means necessary. When her lieutenants dump the vengeful human man Kasar at her feet, Imogen succumbs to his masculine vitality and her overwhelming hunger for his blood—and his body.
Kasar has survived the breaking of the world, only to discover the vampire queen has slaughtered his sister and her unborn child. With the last of his bloodline dead, only his desire for vengeance keeps Kasar alive. He imagines he can pretend to succumb to Imogen’s seduction—not that he has much of a choice, chained as he is to the foot of her bed—and bide his time until he has an opportunity to kill her. The passion he finds in her arms is unexpected, and impossible to resist. But this haven of desire and satiation could easily destroy them both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeffe Kennedy
• Release date: Dec 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781945367229

Jeffe Kennedy

Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning, best-selling author who writes fantasy with romantic elements and fantasy romance. She is an RWA member and serves on the Board of Directors for SFWA as a Director at Large.She is a hybrid author, and also self-publishes a romantic fantasy series, Sorcerous Moons. Books in her popular, long-running series, The Twelve Kingdoms and The Uncharted Realms, have won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Fantasy Romance, been named Best Book of June 2014, and won RWA’s prestigious RITA® Award, while more have been finalists for those awards. She's the author of the romantic fantasy trilogy, The Forgotten Empires, which includes The Orchid Throne, The Fiery Crown, and The Promised Queen.Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.She can be found online at her website, every Sunday at the SFF Seven blog, on Facebook, on Goodreads and on Twitter. She is represented by Sarah Younger of Nancy Yost Literary Agency.

Book preview

Feeding the Vampire

Jeffe Kennedy

Chapter One

"I’ll do it," I said.

And there I was—standing up in our circle of folding chairs before I realized I’d made the decision.

A few of the others glanced at me, dull surprise momentarily lifting their tired faces. They’d forgotten I was there, the invisible taker of notes. And likely no one expected finding a volunteer would be this easy. The rest of the Select Board and utility chairs didn’t look at me at all, filled with their guilty relief.

After all, nobody else wanted to feed the vampire.

The canister coffee percolator burbled in the background, over on the sparse table with the box of preservative-laden, grocery store donuts someone had dug out of their hoard and shared. Ironic, that all those bad-for-you foods were what we lived on now. I could be at any number of self-help meetings, standing to recite my name and addiction to create the impression I was honestly dealing with my issues.

The days of self-help were over, however, unless you counted struggling to stay alive. The ultimate self-help, really. The ever-present scent of mold floated on a base of hot aluminum and the smell of people who had more to worry about than daily hygiene. Fluorescent lights—thanks to the restored hydroelectric plant—hummed in the stark room with banal reality.

Luxuries, all of this, and everyone relished the carefully rationed electricity needed to light the stark church basement.

All to accommodate the vampire.

Before the earthquakes, none of us believed creatures like him really existed. Now we needed him.

And he needed us.

Directly across the circle, Ivan watched me, the burning hunger of a predator lighting interest in his gray eyes. I felt suddenly small and soft in my light sundress. The buzzing bulbs cast uncomfortable violet glints on his dark-blond hair. Even with the sallow shadows on his gaunt complexion, he attracted me. Attracted like a hapless bug to the sticky-sweet pink lure of the Venus flytrap.

I was compelled to feed him. I had no choice, really.

Earl cleared his throat. Thank you. Our town administrator looked around for agreement, but they weren’t meeting his eyes either. Like kids ducking the teacher’s gaze. Thank you, Misty. We all appreciate your… He trailed off uncomfortably.

Sacrifice? Surely no one wanted to hear that word aloud. Martyr to the cause? No, not much better.

Earl shuffled the papers in his lap. Waiting for me to get to it, I supposed. Well, he had just said that feeding Ivan ought to be the first order of business. We couldn’t very well make plans for our community while the guy in charge of our defenses wilted before our eyes, especially since we needed him alert and focused. Me? I was pretty damn expendable. I hadn’t brought much to the table so far, except my survival, which really was accidental. Right place at the right time. Turns out stolid New England was just the right place to be for the particular form this apocalypse took. Granite bedrock and all that.

My boring hometown was a safe haven and everyone wanted in on our resources. The people turning up every day were let in or turned away depending on what they offered. I counted my lucky stars I’d been grandfathered in simply because my neighbors didn’t have the heart to kick me out. Excellent keyboarding skills and a customer-friendly personality didn’t count for much in this economy. Especially without, um, customers or working keyboards.

I couldn’t afford to be a useless mouth to feed. Their hearts would harden—they already had. Tonight was pivotal. We’d acquired a vampire of our own for defense. Everyone felt better about our future—if we could keep him happy. At least I knew how to make blood. You could say I was a natural.

And yet, the certainty that had propelled me to my feet seemed to be bleeding away, frightened off by Ivan’s fixed intensity and everyone else’s obvious relief. They waited, restless, for me to just get on with it. Uncomfortable silence.

Hi, I’m Misty and I’m a Fool. I haven’t done anything really unwise in twenty-seven days. Kind of a record for me really. Apparently I was due.

The vampire just stared at me.

I set my yellow pad on the chair and made myself walk across the circle to where he sat in the tacky folding metal chair. My sandals slapped lightly on the tiles, making tinny echoes. Ivan’s roving gaze sent tremors of anticipation up my thighs.

A few murmured conversations resumed. They probably didn’t like the creepy silence any more than I did. I appreciated their polite attempt not to gawk. I’d never seen a vampire feed—probably none of them had either.

I stopped in front of Ivan. He leaned back, long legs sprawled out in careless indolence. He tilted his head at my hesitation and held out his hands as if to help me down from a carriage.

Perhaps we should step out of the room? I tried.

I haven’t the strength to stand. His grave eyes watched me with avid intent.

If I ran, he would definitely find the strength to hunt me down. After all, he’d walked into this room. Heck, he’d arrived at the bridge leading to our sleepy town only last night, offering his protection in return for our shelter and sustenance. He had to have gotten there somehow.

He wrapped his long fingers around my wrists, cuffing them with bands of steel. Exerting steady pressure, he drew me closer, parting his lips. White fangs gleamed with fluorescent highlights. My heart thumped in panic, hot fear filling me.

Will it hurt? My voice sounded thready, weak.

Hunger flared in his eyes at the question. It always does.

Ivan snapped me against his hard body. The sharp movement splintered any second thoughts. He pulled me astraddle his lap. My cheap cotton dress hiked up alarmingly. The chafe of his dark denim jeans sent tremors up my fully exposed thighs. Shame and terror flashed through me.

Then all thought and emotion burst in flame, immolating me through the fierce violence of his teeth sinking into my throat. The agony of the deep puncture, fear feeding pain, fired through my blood. I struggled like a wild thing, without thought. Animal instinct screamed at me to flee, to escape by any means possible.

The vampire held me trapped. There was no escape for me, the mouse flailing under the cat’s paw.

My will, never my strong point, snapped. The fight ebbed away with the tide of my blood. The steady drop of pressure left me enervated, without resistance. Darkness filled my brain, prickled with sparking stars. I wilted, becoming a bit of detritus washed upon the shore of Ivan’s body.

Pain filled my veins, pumped through my heart. It replaced my blood, spiraling through my body from the insistent penetration of Ivan’s teeth in my throat. Helpless against the crashing waves, I relinquished my last hold on consciousness and sank into the hot, tarry sea of oblivion.

* *

I awoke to the taste of blood in my mouth.

A curious relaxation filled me. As if I’d awakened from the deepest, most peaceful, cool sleep. I hadn’t felt this serene and rested since… Well, since before things had started to get really bad.

How do you feel? Ivan’s low voice murmured in my ear.

My eyes flew open, the memory of pain flashing through me, leaving a burning path in its wake.

He lay next to me on the bed. A luxurious bed. A bed I was currently tied to. A bed in a home I did not recognize.

I tugged at the silken cords holding my wrists together. My arms stretched over my head, tied to the heavy wooden headboard. My ankles felt similarly lashed together.

Ivan lay on his side next to me, propped up on a bent arm, heavy leg draped over me. As if he owned me.

I don’t always get this privilege, he purred,