Wanted: Vampire - Written in Blood

By Lisa Rayns

Book 3 in the Wanted: Vampire Trilogy

When Annabelle Cox is forced to return to her hometown of Medford, she is anxious to tell a certain vampire he’s had her heart for years. Malik Drake is sexy as hell and completely irresistible, but the bad boy is also engaged to marry her mother the moment her father dies.

Ignoring the complications, she’s determined to tell him how she feels in hopes of changing his plans for the future. But the closer she gets to him, the more powerful a hidden adversary becomes, and their sizzling attraction may not stand a chance in Hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Rayns
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311901552

Lisa Rayns

Lisa Rayns, author of the Wanted: Vampire Trilogy, lives in a small town in South Dakota. She studied Composition/Literature in college and worked with explosives and as a blackjack dealer before beginning her writing career. An avid reader, she weaves romantic stories rich with action, suspense, and her own personal flavor of the paranormal. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and Siamese cat. For more information about Lisa and her books, visit her website at www.lisarayns.com.

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"Wanted: Vampire (Free Blood) is a different kind of vampire story. Lisa Rayns puts some unexpected twists into the characters that make Wanted: Vampire (Free Blood) stand out among the crowded genre."

~ Sizzling Hot Book Reviews ~ Wanted: Vampire – Free Blood was also nominated for Best Vampire Book in the Sizzling Award Nominations!

"Wow!!! This is vampires on a whole new level. The author had me drawn into the story right from the start and I really hope that there is more as this was brilliant. Can’t wait to read more by this author :)

~ Janie / Amazon Reviews

The twists were unpredictable and kept on coming, and the two sexy male characters serve up both romance and intrigue. Author Lisa Rayns carefully balanced the dark needs of vampires with an overall sense of hopefulness and redemption.

~ Kathryn Knight, Author of Silver Lake

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Other Books by Lisa Rayns

Wanted: Vampire Trilogy

Wanted: Vampire – Free Blood

Wanted: Vampire – Bad Blood

Wanted: Vampire – Written in Blood

The Egyptian Duet

Curse of the Egyptian Goddess

Wrath of the Egyptian Goddess (Coming Fall 2014)

Standalone novels

A Destined Death

Autumn’s Call (A short story)

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WANTED: VAMPIRE – WRITTEN IN BLOOD

Series: Book 3 in the Wanted: Vampire Trilogy

Adult content and language

1st Edition – September 2014

COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Lisa Rayns

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover Art by Janiel Escuaet

Author Website

Contact Information: [e-mail]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Also available in print.

ISBN-13: 9781502744135

ISBN-10: 1502744139

Published in the United States of America.

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DEDICATION

For my Dad,

who always told me I could do anything I wanted to do

and be anything I wanted to be. He is truly my first inspiration.

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THANK YOU

A special thank you to my readers! Without you, I would not be able to do what I love.

Thanks to my family and friends, my wonderful writing group, and my beta readers for all their support with my writing dream. Thanks to my critique partners for providing a constant flow of motivation and feedback. SHOUT OUT’S to:

Danyel McDaniel - for all her encouragement and invaluable support throughout.

Katje Chen – for the long chats.

Melissa Snark, author of Hunger Moon

Brenda Sparks, author of Alpha Mine

Casse NaRome, author of Death Knows My Name

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Prologue: The Key

Happiness is the only sanction of life; where happiness fails, existence remains a mad and lamentable experiment. ––George Santayana

Malik moved silently down the dark country road just outside of Medford, Oregon. He pondered why he hadn’t received an invitation to the afternoon’s wedding, but mostly his mind drifted to the night Alexis offered him free blood. Her blood. The redhead, dressed all in black, had appeared more alone than any other human he’d ever seen. That was part of his pull to her––she looked as lonely as he felt.

He had to have her. She was his, after all, and no human deserved the love he’d claimed as his own.

But Alexis’ visit at dawn had made things clear enough. She said Bradley had found a new source of sustenance for her and they were remarrying today. Her final words still left him seething: Time to give up, dear. Bradley won. It’s over.

We’ll see about that, love, Malik said into the darkness.

Now that he no longer had blood on his side, he sought the one thing that had tied Alexis to Bradley in the first place––her child.

Annabelle Cox was the true key to Alexis’ love, and once gone, nothing would keep her bound to the human. She would no longer need him to keep the child in her life. The daughter had to die, followed by the husband. And Bradley would have to die soon before she decided to turn him. Another immortal laying claim to her simply would not do.

Malik stalked toward the ranch home which held only two heartbeats––the nanny’s and the daughter’s. He chose to enter through her window, the quickest route to the four-year-old’s room, and within seconds, he was inside.

He knelt beside Annabelle’s bed, and his fangs extended as he inhaled the fresh, pure blood that pulsed through her veins. Her scent was like rose petals, and he imagined her blood would taste like a feast from Heaven.

Leaning atop the girl, he inched closer to her neck, and his shirt fell open. He hoped to take her in her sleep so he wouldn’t have to charm her. Still, he kept his hand at the ready to stop any screams. Her death couldn’t be obvious.

As his fangs scraped her throat, his chest connected with something metal atop her ribcage. The object burned into his skin, causing immense pain, but he held in his groan so he wouldn’t alert the nanny of his presence.

Pulling away, he examined the cross-shaped burn below his collarbone. Smoke rose from the fresh wound which was not healing nor regenerating. Crosses could not harm him so he could only assume the object had been cast upon by a witch. He silently cursed Alexis’ best friend.

You’re like mommy. The tiny voice in the dim room drew his attention. Annabelle’s eyes were open, and her heartbeat remained steady.

How curious.

Did you come to check on me since my mommy’s gone?

Yes, he said, retracting his fangs and closing his shirt. He found the girl’s acceptance of him charming.

Red curls fell around her angelic face, and she seemed as small as a doll when awake. Can you make them glow all the way?

How do you mean?

Take your eyes out and make them glow all the way.

Malik chuckled and removed his brown contacts. As she giggled, another thought struck him. Maybe he didn’t have to destroy her. He could… befriend her.

Tell me, Annabelle, have you ever flown before?

No.

Would you like to fly with me now?

No, she said, shaking her head. I don’t think mommy and daddy want me to leave. They’re on a honeymoon.

Consider this… He sat beside her and brushed a strand of hair off her face. Come with me for a short while, and I’ll return you the moment you get sleepy. No one will ever know you were gone.

I trust you. Annabelle sat up and smiled, a brilliant, warm gesture which lit the room

Then she climbed into his cold, open arms.

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Chapter 1: The Midnight Muse

18 years later…

In her rush to the easel, Annabelle Cox fell out of bed and banged her knees on the tile floor. Picking herself up, she ran to the fresh canvas and frantically poured five different colors of paint onto her palette. The brush she grabbed felt like a scepter in her hand, a magical tool with a will of its own.

Lightning flashed and thunder cracked across the sky, a midnight storm raging outside as sweat dripped off her brow. Her heart pounded from the adrenaline that coursed through her body. Visions of brush strokes invaded her mind, scraping, etching, digging into her very soul, and they were too strong to ignore, too overwhelming in their pull.

Stroke by stroke, she copied the images and shapes as they appeared in her head, working by only the dim street lights which filtered in through the windows of her small New York apartment. The metallic scent of acrylics surrounded her. Paint splattered. She moved her long red curls aside and wiped at perspiration only to smear color onto her skin. It didn’t matter. She seemed adrift, floating above her body as if she were watching some other madwoman scramble in the dark to release the persistent visions. She was lost in the zone, the place of muses and higher powers.

After hours of perfecting each line, she dropped to her knees and lunged for a second canvas off the floor behind the easel. Sitting cross-legged, she continued to purge the strokes from her head. Jumbled, indecipherable, the lines and shapes held no meaning separately, and yet her mind was working in overdrive, too caught up in the urgency to consider them as a whole.

When the images finally stopped flowing, she collapsed onto her back. Her legs straightened and the second canvas slid to the side. Her chest rose and fell, her eyes wild as silence rang inside her apartment. She tasted blood from biting the inside of her cheek. The storm ebbed, diminishing into a light rain shower and eventually died out.

She lay that way for minutes. Numb. Relieved. Complete.

Her head throbbed, and she cupped her forehead with her right hand, trying to calm the aftermath of immense tension. Fresh blood dripped onto her cheek. Gasping, she sat up and examined a two inch gash on her forearm. Thick red liquid seeped from the wound which began to sting under her scrutiny. She sat rigid, apprehensive because she didn’t remember getting hurt.

A sudden chill permeated the air, and goose bumps formed along her flesh. She shivered, aware of the cause––a vampire.

She swallowed, blinked, then swallowed again as her throat tightened and her heart fluttered. Taking deep breaths, she fought away her fear so she could consider its intentions. She was used to the unusual, the paranormal––vampires and witches. She could handle one intruder.

Good evening, Annabelle. A deep voice echoed through her bare apartment.

The small hallway light flipped on just before a giant stood over her with his fangs out. The top of his brunette head nearly touched the ceiling, and she gauged him to be six foot seven. His clean-cut hairstyle and impeccable suit suggested sophistication, but the scruff on his cheek and the hunger glowing in his turquoise eyes made her more than a little uneasy.

There’s blood in the fridge, she said.

Of course there is, he continued with a light ancient accent. I’m aware that you’ve been feeding every misfit in New York with your father’s blood concoction, but I’m being rude. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Renaldo.

Knowing the name and acknowledging his authority, Annabelle stiffened. A visit from the head of the Vampire Network couldn’t be good. Punishment for exposing the vampire race was death. I’ve done nothing wrong.

You are delightful. With a lightning fast movement, he knelt beside her and pulled her wrist to his mouth. May I?

She managed a nod, and he slid his tongue along the wound, slow and sensual, his eyes on hers. His raw power washed over her, heating her body with his cool grip. She trembled, barely remembering to breathe while she gazed into his eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, he ran a finger overtop her wound, creating tingles as he healed the gash with his touch.

The glow of his eyes calmed, and his fangs receded. Forgive me. That was terribly distracting.

Thank you, she whispered, retracting her arm.

He returned to his previous stance, towering above her. I admire your actions in this city. Helping those vampires born without the gift of charm is quite noble, but the Vampire Network will take it from here. You must return home.

Her head shook automatically. I can’t. I’m starting a new job in the morning.

Junior executive in the art department of an advertising firm? How dull. The words rolled off his tongue with disgust, then his voice deepened with the tone of authority. You will leave this very day. This is not a request.

But I––

Perhaps you should consider the reason you left in the first place. His lips curved upward.

Annabelle rose to her feet and walked to the small kitchen nook in an attempt to hide her scowl. She took two aspirin to calm the pounding in her skull and poured a wine glass of blood from the fridge. You have a reputation for seeing the future, not the past.

I saw it then, before you left for college. I’ve been keeping tabs on you.

The knowledge engulfed her, but she resisted the urge to ask him to stop. A man in his position could do whatever he wanted.

Returning to the main room, she handed her guest the glass. What do you see for my future now?

If you stay here? His eyes were set in a steely way that made her heart jump. Danger.

And I’ll be fine if I leave?

He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. My visions are not always clear, nor are they cut and dry. For instance, the images I sent you this evening still have me puzzled, quite frankly.

You did that? She glanced at her paintings, face down on the floor.

He nodded and gestured toward them with his glass. Don’t you want to take a peek?

Considering his eerie tone, she wasn’t sure, and the notion of seeing the future––her future––freaked her out. But she couldn’t not look, and her curiosity grew by the second. She approached the paintings and examined the first one.

With a fiery circle behind him, a man stood among many who were bowed at his feet like children. If his hands had been outstretched, she would have mistaken it as a religious picture, except the man was no God. Beefy, with long blond hair, the sight of him made a shiver run through her. She knew him––Daniel Devlin, her biological father.

This is what you saw? she asked with all the horror she felt.

At the silence, she turned her head and confronted a vacant room. The chill receded, and Renaldo’s empty glass sat on the kitchen counter.

Shaking off his disappearance, she leaned down and grabbed the second painting. She caught only a glimpse before her knees weakened and she dropped onto them, her heart thundering in her ears. The one word was written in blood: Death.

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Chapter 2: Homecoming

12 Steps - How to get that crush to ask you out on a date:

1. Set a deadline.

2. Have a specific plan in mind before you approach him.

3. Look good so you feel good.

4. Meet him in a relaxed social setting.

5. When you see him, don't panic. Risks make life worthwhile!

6. Time your approach so he’s not involved in a deep discussion.

7. Pay attention to your body language. Act casual, but smile and make eye contact. Be calm and confident.

8. Don't be afraid to talk to him.

9. Try to find common interests.

10. Flattery will get you everywhere.

11. Don’t go overboard with your first date plans.

12. Be yourself. Act naturally and friendly.

You reading that for me? a smooth caramel voice asked over her shoulder.

Zack! Dropping the teen magazine she’d been carrying around like a manual, Annabelle jumped out of her hard seat in the Medford airport terminal and threw her arms around her best friend’s chest. Thanks for coming to get me.

He hugged her briefly and then stood back. Greek, handsome, and turned in his mid-twenties, the brunette vampire scanned her from head to toe with intelligent brown eyes. Been a long time, Miss Annie, he said, using the pet name he’d given her when she was four and they first met.

Not that long. She tousled his long-on-top hairstyle and tapped the lapel of his expensive striped suit. You still look like a rich playboy.

I’ll never change, he mumbled as awe suffused his face, but look at you, you’re gorgeous and all grown up. What are you now, fifty?

Annabelle scowled. Very funny. Try twenty–two.

Oh right. He stroked his fingers through his hair, straightening the tuffs she had messed up. The wrinkles were throwing me off.

She punched him square in the shoulder, hurting her hand on contact. Ow, she said, cradling the wounded appendage to her chest.

A passing security guard eyed the mean vampire suspiciously. Is this man bothering you, ma’am?

Yes, she said with a definitive nod, but we were just leaving.

When the guard shook his head and departed, Zack chuckled and grabbed her bags, two suitcases and the tote containing her fateful art. Boy, I’ve missed you.

You’ve missed riling me. Retrieving her dropped magazine, she concealed it in her purse and took his offered arm.

True.

Outside, an overcast sky welcomed her, and a salty breeze rushed her face, leaving her with a sense of happiness. Her kind of weather. Not too hot, too cold, too bright, or too dark. The late afternoon seemed perfect, custom made for her homecoming.

Stopping at a black sports car, Zack placed her bags in the trunk and jumped into the driver’s seat. For minutes, he stared at her, his head cocked, his smile charming. Well? Were you reading it for me?

A wave of heat flooded her face, and her hand shot up. She smoothed her eyebrow, blocking her face from his view. No. You have to like someone to have a crush on them.

Chuckling, he started the car and backed out of his spot. Why are you so embarrassed then?

Dropping her hand, she sighed. Because I haven’t been a teenager in years. I should know all this by now. I guess I do, but I never thought I’d have the nerve to actually… She straightened her red suit and shook her head. Oh, just stop being so damn observant.

Is that why you came back? For a guy?

She busied herself with the buildings flying by outside her window, unwilling to think about Renaldo or the paintings. You’re the one who said I was running away by going to college.

No. All I said was, one day you were planning to turn down the college in New York, and after one conversation with Tara, you decided to hop on a plane and leave me for four years.

The memory scraped along her heart, reopening the wound she’d vowed to fight her way past. She wouldn’t let it stop her again. I didn’t leave you, but you were right, I was running away. I was afraid to take a chance. She smoothed her cross necklace with her fingers. I’m done being scared.

Good to hear. Are you staying with your parents?

"No. I love my parents. I just don’t want to live with them."

His head jerked toward her. Do you think they’d let me live with them? Free blood whenever I want doesn’t sound too shabby.

You can have my room if you watch the road, she said, holding onto the door handle a bit tighter.

Sweet. His gaze returned to the blacktop. You can stay with me if you want. It’s not much, and it’s not really woman-friendly, but you’re welcome at my place any time. Pausing, he squinted and scratched his temple. Of course I don’t have a bed or any private rooms.

Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.

Suit yourself, he said as he pulled into the long driveway that led to her parents’ ranch. I hear you’ve done pretty well for yourself in New York.

She raised a shoulder. I got lucky and sold two paintings on auction right out of art school. I sort of miss them now though.

You’re practically famous here. Tara’s been marketing you as a local artist, using the ‘she got her start in Medford’ slogan.

An excited breath caught in her throat. Did she buy them?

You don’t know who bought your paintings?

No. She sighed. They were sold while I was taking my final exam. The receipt I received just said anonymous buyer.

He parked in front of the house and shrugged. "Sorry. That’s all stuff I heard from your mom. I haven’t spoken to Tara, and I’ve been a little busy working on a new hydrogen-fueled, spark-ignited, internal