The Remedy

By L. J. Fine

Tristan Kane, son of the High Vampire Magistrate, has wondered a little too far off the beaten path this time, and now he's screwed. Becoming addicted to human blood is considered to be the most deplorable of statuses in the vampire social hierarchy, the equivalent of being labeled a crack fiend. What's worse is that vampire venom is highly addictive to humans, creating a dangerous co-dependent relationship between the species. Unlike his father, Tristan doesn't give a damn about social standing. He just wants the constant burning in his veins to stop. The problem is that nothing he's tried so far has come close to easing the ache.

 

Until he meets Katherine Quinn, the only human he's ever encountered who is immune to the effects of venom.

 

Kat has been pulling her younger sister, Meri, out of the fire since the day Meri hit puberty and locked eyes with her first loser boyfriend. When Meri's latest low life turns out to be a vampire who gets her hooked on venom, Kat is a little out of her depth. What's even more baffling is that vampire glamour and venom have no effect on Kat. She has no idea what makes her such an anomaly, but when the dangerously seductive Tristan makes her a deal, there is no way she can refuse.

 

His offer is simple: if Kat will give herself to him, blood and body, in an effort to control his addiction, he will use all of his considerable power to find an anti-venom for Meri. Tristan's proposition seems like the only light at the end of a very long and arduously traveled tunnel. But can she trust him? Should she lose her heart to him solely for the sake of a cure?

 

Buy The Remedy to experience L.J. Fine's sexy new take on paranormal romance today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. J. Fine
• Release date: Jun 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393680680

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The telephone rang, shrill and unexpected through the silence of the early morning. Katherine Quinn jerked and nearly poked her eye out with her mascara wand. No one ever called her until after nine, let alone at 6:17 a.m. while she went through her morning routine. So, either something apocalyptic had happened at work, or the person blowing up her phone had to be her sister.

Eye watering, she darted into her bedroom to grab her cell before it stopped ringing and tried not to blink and cause a river of black to run down her face. She didn't have time this morning to fuss with her appearance. Not if she wanted to get to work early.

As expected, she saw her sister's name lighting up the screen when she picked up the phone and slid her finger over it to answer.

What's wrong? A terse opener, sure, but Meri wouldn't be calling this early if everything was all sunshine and roses.

I know, I'm sorry but my car won't start, and I need a ride to work. Meri sounded as harried as Kat felt with tense, rushed words.

Wait, I thought you were on night shifts now. Why do you need a ride to work this early? Holding the phone to her ear, Kat walked back into the bathroom to check the mirror and run a finger under her eye to clear the smudge. Satisfied she didn't look like a raccoon, she left the room and turned out the light.

Erin needed to take her daughter to a doctor's appointment and asked me to cover her shift today. I was scheduled off for tonight anyway and I need the extra hours. A muffled pause broke up her words as though she had to move the phone away from her ear. Two seconds later she was back, loud and clear. Please, Kat. I'll owe you.

A promise Kat had heard many times over that rarely ever got fulfilled. If she did this, she would get to work later than she wanted to, but she couldn't leave Meri stranded. Okay. I'm leaving my apartment now. Be outside when I get there.

Thank you, Kat! I will. Meri hung up and Kat hefted the giant tote-bag holding her computer, wallet, and lunch over her shoulder. Shaking her head with a sigh, she left the apartment and locked the door behind her.

True to her word – for a change – Meri waited outside on her porch as Kat pulled into the driveway. Dressed in a neatly pressed gray skirt and white button-down with the Carter's Inn logo stitched into the lapel, she had her long, dark hair tied back from her face. The hotel uniform hung much looser on Meri's thin frame these days and the hairstyle she'd chosen only accentuated her gaunt, worn-out appearance. Kat's stomach did an uneasy flip.

Clutching her purse and matching gray blazer close to her body, Meri trotted down the porch steps and opened the passenger door.

Thank you, Kat, Meri said when she got into the car. I really do appreciate this.

No problem, Kat said backing out of the driveway and onto the road. Actually, this gives me a good excuse to remind you I'm attempting to take that photography class again tonight. So, please keep that in mind.

I will, don't worry. Meri propped her elbow up on the door and tilted her head to rest against her palm. The angle exposed the delicate column of her neck and with it, the two angry red puncture wounds surrounded by a nasty black and purple bruise. No amount of makeup could completely conceal a mark like that, but she could see Meri had tried anyway. Kat didn't want to contemplate how bad the actual, uncovered wound was. Another uneasy wave rolled through her stomach, but she held her tongue.

When and how are you going to get your car to the garage? Do you need me to take you tomorrow after work? Kat asked, refocusing on the road in front of her.

Meri's hand moved to her collar and pulled it tighter around her neck. Joey said he would take me after work tonight. Thanks, though.

The mention of Meri's low-life, asshole boyfriend set Kat's teeth on edge. It wasn't like this was a new scenario, though. Kat had been arguing with her sister about her shitty taste in men since Meri had been old enough to date. Joey had proven, by far, to be the worst in a long line of losers, and not in a lazy, sit-on-his-ass-and-mooch kind of way either. At times he could be downright mean and Kat had worried his selfish and callous attitude would turn abusive.

No matter how much they argued, though, none of Kat's words ever landed to make a lasting impression. At this stage in the game, Kat thought with a glance at Meri's wounded throat, it's not like I can really do anything about it.

Silence filled the space between them as Kat drove and eventually pulled up to the hotel's automatic double doors. Only then did either of them speak.

Thanks again, Meri said, opening the door to climb out.

You're welcome. Don't forget I have that class tonight, Kat called after her, figuring it bore repeating.

Meri shook her head. I won't. I'll see you later. I love you.

Love you, too, Kat said and as she finally made her way to work, she prayed Meri would stay true to her word and finally let Kat have one night to herself.

*****

This meeting couldn't go any slower if time started moving backward. Kat sat in the stuffy conference room using her pen to tap out an anxious cadence on her notebook, all the while staring at the clock.

These monthly group meetings were a waste of time. Being locked in a room for an hour listening to their boss, Lucy, drone on and on about revised company policies, organizational changes, and monthly office safety topics was not Kat's idea of productive time or resource management.

Heaving out a quiet sigh, she pushed an impatient hand through her long blonde hair. None of this had any bearing on the day-to-day work they performed for the ad agency. It was all a bunch of corporate drink-the-Kool-Aid bullshit Kat didn't have time for.

Or maybe that was just her mood today.

Her role within the WLP Ad Agency as Project Support could be better defined as Everyone's Bitch and it didn't provide for a whole lot of job satisfaction. These meetings were always scheduled for the end of the day, and Kat had a much more interesting elsewhere to be.

The photography class she had signed up for this evening started at 6:00 p.m. If she could get out of here as planned, she would have just enough time to grab a quick bite to eat and fight the traffic across town to get there. And she desperately wanted to get there. It would bring her one step closer to the eventuality of starting her own photography business and getting the hell off the corporate ladder.

Never mind the fact that Kat had signed up to take this class at least two other times. Both of those times something had come up – something involving her sister – preventing her from actually attending. But she clung desperately to the hope tonight would be different. As long as this tedious meeting ended on time, she was home free.

As you know, the topic of the month is Personal Accountability. Each individual must understand their personal responsibility to foster a professional –, Lucy's speech, a speech Kat had heard at least two other times this week, in two other completely non-related meetings, temporarily halted when the conference room door opened and Tristan Kane sauntered in. More than fifteen minutes late, his sheer presence was enough to fluster their boss and make her lose her train of thought. A pretty blush stained the creamy skin of Lucy's cheeks, vivid enough to match the color of her hair.

The boss lady considered it a cardinal sin to be late to one of her meetings, a rule that applied to the majority of her employees. Predictably, however, Lucy said nothing as Tristan glided to his chair directly beside her and sat down. An enigmatic smile graced his full lips as he threw Lucy a wink and, just like that, all was forgiven as she resumed going over her PowerPoint slides.

Kat rolled her eyes. Must be nice to be able to come and go as you please without the boss calling you onto the carpet for it. That Tristan was one of the most talented graphic artists the ad agency had, more or less, accounted for this leniency. The company would take a detrimental loss if he ever decided to pursue greener pastures. That aside, his insanely good looks and their manager's single status meant he could get away with murder.

Gritting her teeth, Kat forced herself to endure the rest of the meeting and not glare at the clock every five seconds, adhering to the adage that a watched pot never boils. But, no matter her resolve, the dry content had her mind wandering. Along with her eyes. She, too, was a warm-blooded female, after all, and Tristan was just so...eye catching.

He was doing nothing at the moment to attract attention, really. Only sitting back in his chair like the conference room was his own personal office while mildly paying attention to Lucy. Kat suspected he found these meetings about as useful as she did, but she couldn't be sure. It wasn't like she knew him well enough to gauge his reactions. Or that she really knew him at all. They'd barely spoken two words to each other since Tristan had started working at the agency almost a year ago. The nature of their separate jobs, and the different projects they had been assigned to, made it so their paths rarely crossed. More than likely, he'd never even noticed her.

Oh, but she, along with every other woman (and some of the men) in the office, had noticed him. There was something about the way he carried himself, with lithe grace and confidence, maybe even a hint of cockiness, that drew one's notice.

And the man knew how to dress. Judging by the way his suits outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist, showcasing hints of the lean muscle that assuredly lay beneath, they had to be tailored. His short, dark-blond hair always looked just this side of overgrown, and he couldn't seem to stop running his fingers through it. Somehow it only added to his appeal and that whole lazy, devil-may-care vibe he had going on. His full lips, strong, sharp bone structure, and striking green eyes rounded out the package nicely. And he finished off his panty-melting allure with an air of indifference as though none of it really mattered to him. All of it was effortlessly part of who he was.

Or she could be reading too much into it.

If his interactions with their boss were any indication, Tristan knew his effect on the opposite sex and used it shamelessly to his advantage. Either way, he presented entirely too much trouble for Kat to be ogling him throughout a meeting in which she should be paying attention. Despite his gorgeousness, he made her wary. She knew she'd get in way over her head with that type of man. She had enough problems on her own without his charismatic apathy adding to them, thank you very much. Not that he ever noticed her for longer than it took to throw her a quick, polite smile as he passed her in the hallway. So, her internal lecture on ignoring him was more for her own benefit than anything else. She had to stay focused.

The gods must have been smiling down on her for once because the meeting ended right on time. She had strategically sat closest to the door so she could book it out of there the moment the meeting came to a close. In five minutes flat, she retrieved her purse from her desk and stood waiting for the elevator.

As she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the slow-moving box to stop on her floor, a towering shadow loomed over her, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Slowly, she turned to see Tristan behind her, also waiting for the elevator. Their eyes met briefly, and she flashed him a tight-lipped smile that she wasn't sure he even saw, before turning back around.

Finally, the elevator reached their floor and with the opening of the doors came the realization it would be only the two of them making the downward journey to the garage. And wasn't that just fabulous? After spending the better part of that mind-numbing meeting practically salivating over him, they now had to share a confined space for five floors. Wouldn't be awkward for her at all.

Oh well. She dug out her cell phone. She could use this time to text her sister to remind her, yet again, that she was busy tonight and ignore the inhumanly gorgeous man sharing her oxygen.

Though, she couldn't help but notice out of the corner of her eye that he seemed restless. Fidgeting with his keys, he shifted his weight from foot to foot while they waited for the elevator to stop. Seemed she wasn't the only one anxious to get the hell out of the office for the day. Once the doors finally opened on the garage level, he politely let her go first, shooting her a distracted smile before disappearing into the opposite direction from which she was headed.

What would she do if a man like that actually did pay attention to her? She wondered if he pursued his lovers with the same single-minded focus he gave to his art, the relentlessness with which he pursued the projects he wanted to work on. No doubt once he set his mind on something, he got it, one way or another. A shiver ran over her body, tightening her nipples and tingling the plump lips of her sex, making her wet and slightly achy. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him lavish her body with such intense devotion.

Thank God she would never have to find out. More than likely, an affair like that would only derail her goals further than Meri had managed to do thus far. Tristan's passion could only burn that bright for so long before it became all-consuming and then, when she was nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, he would move onto his next conquest. Kat didn't have time for something like that and couldn't afford it even if she did.

With a mental shrug, she pushed all thoughts of Tristan Kane from her mind as she darted to her car to make it to her class on time.

CHAPTER TWO

The blood in Tristan's veins burned, shooting through his extremities like battery acid. As he approached the nondescript building in front of him, he shook his hands out at his sides, trying to ease the sensation even though he knew damn well only one thing would take the shakes away. He knew he shouldn't have waited this long, but he put the craving off every time. Knowing better hadn't always been a good enough reason for him to do, or not do, something and whether it was a good excuse or not, he just fucking hated coming here.

This God-forsaken place should come with a warning sign. Abandon hope all ye who enter here, sounded fitting enough. The club and its owners thrived on the desperation and broken spirits of its patrons, encouraging the downward spiral of each and every paying customer that walked through their doors.

It pissed him right the hell off that he belonged among the hapless mass coming in and out of this building.

Somnium was not the type of club one ventured to unless one knew where they were going and what they were there for. It fulfilled a specific purpose of no use to those not in the know. That meant no lines at the door, but Tristan knew there would be plenty of warm bodies inside. Still, the owners and patrons alike needed to be discreet, which accounted for the lone man guarding the entrance to what might appear to outsiders as a dilapidated warehouse in a rundown part of the meat-packing district. While the activities going on inside weren't illegal per se, there were some, high on their own moral righteousness, that would shut the place down in a heartbeat if they ever learned of its existence.

Tristan's father included.

As far as Tristan and the rest of his kind were concerned, Somnium was not the place to see and be seen. He only wanted to go in, get what he needed, and get the hell out.

Freddy The Doorman sent a nod Tristan's way, opening the door to let him pass and just like that, Tristan waltzed into another world. What appeared to be a sparse and bleakly uninviting building transformed into a plush, luxurious wonderland in which every customer had VIP status. The owners liked to play up the obvious theme but somehow managed to avoid making it look gaudy. That added up to a lot of booths and chairs done in crushed velvet, mostly red which, Tristan had to admit, served a practical purpose. The deep red wouldn't show a stain if a guest got a little overzealous. Saved money on the cleaning bill. Low lighting provided by lit candles in ornate iron candelabras gave the lounge areas a seductive, secluded atmosphere.

But Tristan didn't come here to draw this shit out. He derived little pleasure from what he needed. At least not since Jillian. Either way, he couldn't ignore the fire building in his blood any longer. He'd already started to get the shakes and the next stage of withdrawal would knock him on his ass.

He bypassed all the frilly opulence and moved directly to the crude inelegance of the bar to park it on a stool. Almost immediately the bartender, Darin, brought him a bottle of beer. Later on in the evening his senses would be impaired enough, and he didn't need to add chemical fuel to that fire, so he steered clear of the hard stuff. He thanked Darin, sipped his beer slowly, and took in the room. The redhead at the opposite end of the bar looked promising. She'd been eyeing him up since he sat down. His gums ached and pins and needles began moving through his limbs as he checked her out.

As he was about to get up and pursue the direction her hungry gaze said she would take him, his pocket started to vibrate. Setting his beer down on the counter, he fished his phone out of his pants and checked the caller ID.

Sirus.

The wind blew right out of his sails when he saw his brother's name light up the screen. This phone call took place at least once a week, and Tristan knew if he blew it off, Sirus would track him down and say whatever he needed to say in person. Given his current location, that would be catastrophically worse than picking up the damn phone, despite his brother's shit timing.

Sliding his finger across the screen to answer the call, he picked up his beer and leaned back on his stool. Hey brother, what's up?

Where are you, man? A bar? Sirus' deep baritone rumbled across the line, his words making Tristan feel like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Yes. I am in a bar. He took a loud gulp of his beer for emphasis. No way in hell he'd tell Sirus which bar, though.

It's bad enough you're living and working among the humans, but you need to watch your ass in a place like that. The temptation to feed is so heavy. I don't know how you stand it, Sirus said.

Tristan shifted uneasily in his seat, not at all liking the direction this conversation took, already. I can handle myself, Sirus, don't worry.

Yeah, I know you can. But the blood addiction is no joke. I've seen it too many times. It's not something you can get over with time and a good detox program. You get a taste of human blood and it holds onto you forever, no shaking it.

And wasn't that the fucking truth, right there? Unfortunately, Tristan knew all about the blood addiction from personal experience, rather than the anti-drug campaigns Sirus quoted. Satiating the need was the sole reason he stepped foot into this disgusting place.

According to every morally decent, law-abiding citizen of his race, right now he should be with a woman his family approved of, someone of his own kind.

Another vampire.

He should be getting everything he needed from her. The compounds in the blood of the opposite sex of his own kind would keep him going with no nasty side effects. Side effects like the instant rush that kept him high for hours or the pain of withdrawal if he didn't feed every few days.

Instead, Tristan liked to cold-bag it because he found spending time in the company of his own kind insufferable. His people owned blood banks in every major city that took donations from vampires only. It operated as a private company, only members of their race privy to its true function. Humans liked to remain in stubborn ignorance of the existence of an intelligent species outside of their own. And vampires, too proud to justify themselves, preferred it that way. The facility was necessary in order for the unmated of his kind to acquire the blood sustenance they needed. The refrigerated stuff didn't satisfy like it should, though, and he had another monkey riding his back, driving him forward.

So right now, rather than doing the honorable thing befitting of his station, he was in a club about to feed from a human woman.

Why? In his bid for independence, he had contracted the blood addiction through the arrogant belief of his own invincibility. If his father, The Great Magistrate Phillip Kane, ever found out his son was the vampire equivalent of a human crackhead, he would step down from his high judicial office and never show his face in public again. In Phillip's eyes, vampires and humans had no business interacting with each other for this very reason. Not only did the addictive properties in human blood turn a vampire into a mindless junkie, constantly craving his next fix, but the venom in a vampire's bite had the same effect on a human.

And for all of this, no cure existed. No detox program strong enough to wean a vampire off the hard stuff, and no anti-venom.

Did you call for a specific reason, or did you just want to give me a lecture on blood safety? Tristan loved his brother. Out of everyone in his family, Sirus was the one he respected the most. But talking to him while seated at the bar inside of Somnium only compounded the guilt he felt by being there in the first place.

Sirus sighed. You know why I'm calling. We're having our weekly family dinner this Friday, and this is my weekly phone call to invite you to said dinner.

And you know I'm going to politely decline your invitation, Tristan said with a chuckle.

One of you is going to have to bend at some point and you know as well as I do that the old man won't be the first to do it. Tristan, he does miss you. We all do. And your insistence on cutting Mom and Dad out like this isn't right.

This time Tristan's laugh turned incredulous. "I'm not the one who gave the ultimatum, brother. The old man told me in no uncertain terms that if I intended to nurture my love of art and pursue it in the human world rather than join the family business like you did, then I could make myself scarce. He said I'd have to do it on my own with no help or support from him, which is exactly what I'm doing. He cut me out."

I know that, Sirus said, tone turning soft. But maybe if you two could be in the same room together again he might see you're happier now, doing what you love. I know he can be a hard ass, but I really do believe he just wants what's best for us.

Yeah, but the problem is he thinks he knows what's best for us and doesn't want to hear any ideas to the contrary. I'm sorry, Sirus, but you know we can't be in the same room together without a massive argument breaking out. That's not how I wanna spend my Friday night.

Sirus gave a wistful laugh. I know that, too. But you can't blame me for trying, and I'm going to keep trying until you eventually give in. For now, I know you're busy, so I'll let you go. Expect another phone call from me next week, brother.

Oh, I will, don't worry, Tristan said with a smile that he knew Sirus heard before he hung up.

Part of him wished Sirus would give up and accept things for what they were. The other part though, the one that deeply respected and maybe even idolized his big brother, was cut to pieces every time he heard the abject belief in Sirus' voice that the relationship between Tristan and their father could be mended.

Though Sirus didn't mean it that way, his attempts to include Tristan were a constant reminder of Tristan's status as the black sheep of the family. All because he had chosen to follow his heart rather than change his whole personality to better suit the ideals of the vampire court.

It could be argued that following his heart might not always have been such a wise move, but Tristan would never admit that to his family. It was that traitorous organ that had led him here, to Somnium, after all. It was bad enough his parents condemned him for living out his life in the human world. If they knew he was a blood addict on top of it? Yeah, to say that wouldn't go down well was the understatement of the millennium.

It wasn't like he chose this part of it. This shit had just happened, and now he was dealing with it.

God, though, he was so damn tired of dealing with it. Truth be told, he hated this club and all it represented. That actual vampires