The Vampire Bounty Hunter’s

Unexpected Catch

A Nocturne Falls Universe story

Larissa Emerald

Dear Reader,

Nocturne Falls has become a magical place for so many people, myself included. Over and over I’ve heard from you that it’s a town you’d love to visit and even live in! I can tell you that writing the books is just as much fun for me.

With your enthusiasm for the series in mind—and your many requests for more books—the Nocturne Falls Universe was born. It’s a project near and dear to my heart, and one I am very excited about.

I hope these new, guest-authored books will entertain and delight you. And best of all, I hope they allow you to discover some great new authors! (And if you like this book, be sure to check out the rest of the Nocturne Falls Universe offerings.)

For more information about the Nocturne Falls Universe, visit http://kristenpainter.com/sugar-skull-books.

In the meantime, happy reading!

Kristen Painter

The Vampire Bounty Hunter’s Unexpected Catch

A Nocturne Falls Universe Story

Copyright © 2017 by Larissa Emerald

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction and was made possible by a special agreement with Sugar Skull Books but has not been reviewed or edited by Kristen Painter. All characters, events, scenes, plots, and associated elements appearing in the original Nocturne Falls series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kristen Painter, Sugar Skull Books, and their affiliates or licensors.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or Sugar Skull Books.

Published in the United States of America.

Other Books by Larissa Emerald

Paranormal Romance

Divine Tree Guardian Series

Awakening Fire

Awakening Touch

Vampire

Forever At Dawn (novella)

Forever At Midnight (novella)

Romantic Suspense

Winter Heat

Barefoot Bay Kindle World

Come Sail Away

Want to stay up-to-date on upcoming books, release dates, giveaways, and contests from Larissa Emerald?

Sign up for her NEWSLETTER!

Dedication

For Kristen, for creating the awesomely funny Nocturne Falls stories.

Chapter One

The grinding wheel shot out fiery sparks as Nathaniel worked. The knife was shaping up nicely and in its final stage before polishing and mounting the handle. He leaned in, examining the blade for imperfections. There were none. Good.

He carefully rested the knife on a stand and relaxed back in his barstool. His basement workshop was dry and well lit. That was not the case outside, though, where the wind rapped against the upstairs windows. His supernatural vampire-hearing made him aware of everything in the vicinity, including the howling weather.

The frigid storm whipped through Terror, Minnesota, dumping freezing rain and ice on the blackhearted town. He didn’t mind the cold; however, he detested the rain.

Tomorrow morning, the ice-coated trees and landscape would sparkle as rays of sunlight struck the frozen shards, making everything glisten. Just like a fairy tale…

What a crock.

He sighed, forcing his thoughts back to the knife. The harsh winters in Minnesota were boring. There was only so much reading and TV he could endure; knife-making filled the void. It had proved to be a fine hobby throughout the centuries. Besides, superior weapons were necessary in his line of work. And he’d vowed over a century ago that he would never again be without the best.

He hung his head for a second as he allowed his failure to protect his brother, Jake, to wash over him with the same raw ache it always did, even after 140 years. Which was as it should be. He was not the one in a wheelchair.

The memory of the vampire war all those years ago leaped to the surface of his mind. The incident had happened at the onset of the war, and had occurred without warning. A loco vamp had attacked Jake, stabbing him with a wooden stake. Only he hadn’t been struck in his heart, but rather an inch lower, sending the stake straight through his spinal cord. The only weapon Nathaniel had brought with him was his bare hands. And while he’d broken the rogue’s neck, it had been too little too late for his brother.

There were things worse than death, and being a vampire in a wheelchair was one of them.

He picked up the knife again. As he pressed its metal edge against the grinder once more, his cell phone whistled, letting him know he had a message. He glanced over at it and read the text:

Meet me at Fortune’s in thirty minutes.

What? Damn…

The text was from a longtime friend in San Francisco, vampire leader Connor Langley. But what was the czar doing in Terror?

Nathaniel reluctantly stood. He didn’t relish traipsing out in this weather, but he was a Minnesotan and used to it. Besides, one didn’t reject a request from a powerful vampire commander. He sighed and put away his tools.

Regardless of his mild irritation at having to go out, a half hour later, the rain had changed to a light snowfall as Nathaniel strolled down Omen Avenue, the main street in Terror. His footfalls echoed off the brick sidewalk and were swallowed by the hazy fog that touched everything. Streetlamps glowed like beacons lighting the way, even as the gothic buildings loomed over the few pedestrians traveling the street with him. In the middle of the block, he ducked into Fortune’s Pub, which was adjacent to the only major upscale hotel in town, the Misery Inn.

Inside, Barbarella, a Neko Demi-Cat who had worked at the place since graduating high school, greeted him and escorted him to a booth near the raging fire. Connor and a female who Nathaniel didn’t recognize were already seated.

“Scotch,” he said over his shoulder to Barbarella.

“Coming right up.”

Then he took in Langley. “I’m shocked you’re here. If I recall, you don’t like the cold weather.”

Connor snickered, his blue eyes intense. “Hate is more accurate.” He stood, clasped Nathaniel’s hand, and initiated a shoulder bump. “However, we’re crossing the country on our return from abroad, and I’m calling in every favor owed to me.”

They each took a seat in the booth. The waitress slid his drink onto the table and left.

“Nate, this is my wife, Stephanie,” Connor said as he slid one arm around the lovely blonde at his side. She smiled and leaned into his massive frame.

“Pleased to meet you. Congratulations.” Nathaniel raised his glass in a salute, and they all drank. He hadn’t kept track of the vampire leader, so his marriage news was certainly a revelation. Especially since he had married a human female. Nathaniel inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of the woman’s sweet scent.

“Thank you,” Stephanie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” Nathaniel downed the remainder of his Scotch and caught the waitress’s attention with a wave of his hand, signaling for another round. “Perhaps I should tell you a few things about your husband.” He shot Connor a pointed look, thinking back to the vampire rebellion of 1810.

Connor cleared his throat and got right to the point. “I have a job for you, Bounty Hunter.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“We’ve been having a problem with someone selling cobine on the black market. They’ve been stockpiling it and driving the price incredibly high, making it difficult to get. I got word that someone—a rogue vampire by the name of Payton Grey—may have some connections to it, or even be running it himself. My latest intel says he’s in your area. I need you to bring him to me. Alive.”

~ ~ ~

Nathaniel paused beneath the arched entrance to his house, buttoning his double-breasted great coat and sliding on his leather gloves. For days, he’d been canvassing Terror, questioning people about the whereabouts of Payton Grey. Some males knew of Grey, but so far every lead had turned into a wild-goose chase.

He tromped across the front lawn. His heel slipped, but he kept walking. The ice-crusted snow snapped and cracked in the woods next door.

Damned rain.

From what he’d learned, Payton came from a young group of veaklings out in Nevada. The vampire race had been diluted over the years, and veaklings were at the bottom of the gene pool. At the top were the original ancestors, who had traveled from the planet Cest and had extremely pure bloodlines, like Connor, and then there were semi-purists, the category that Nathaniel belonged to. Their blood was pure enough to respect the old ways, and they had enough control not to feed on humans.

The different factions of vampires and their ancestries determined how they related in society, how they tolerated sunlight, how they controlled their bloodlust. And the veaklings… They lacked control, values, and purpose.

Nathaniel had put out the call to the Vulcan Society, an elite underground group of paranormal beings who had banded together centuries before to protect the secrecy of supernaturals. Someone had to have seen the vampire. His friends had been doing a foot search, when a text had finally come. Payton was stocking up at the Hell’s Fire Liquor Store.

Nathaniel pulled his coat tighter about himself and quickly traced to Hell’s Fire. He hurried inside and looked around the store, but even though mere minutes had passed, it seemed Payton had already fled. Still, his scent was fresh enough for Nathaniel to latch on to it.

He took a deep inhale and followed the smell. Eventually, it stopped when he reached a barn on the outskirts of Terror. He scanned the area, noticing an open door. He crept over to it and looked inside. A human body, positioned over a bale of hay, had been drained at the neck and smelled of whisky.

Damn.

Nathaniel ground his teeth and punched the wall next to him. His hand went clear through the old wood, leaving a splintered hole when he withdrew it. That stupid vamp was totally out of control.

Nathaniel sighed, trying to pick up the liquor-spiced scent of the vampire once more. It was faint, but it was there, and he followed it again, this time across the field beside the shack and deep into the woods.

~ ~ ~

Camille Nahuel eased back the studio curtain and peeked outside. People were beginning to walk the streets, as they would on any regular Halloween night, except it wasn’t actually Halloween. But that was the charm of Nocturne Falls, Georgia: every day was Halloween. And after living there for over a year, she’d finally gotten used to it.

The place was busier than usual for midweek, but then with the Mardi Gras Ball on Friday, out-of-towners were coming in early. Her Wednesday-evening ballroom class would begin arriving in a few minutes. She twisted the door lock, and the bolt disengaged with a click. As she pulled her hand back, her thumbnail snagged on the edge of the lock and ripped.

Ow!

She jerked her hand away and shook it at the throbbing pain. Squinting, she examined the nail, torn down to the quick. A thread of blood showed along the break line and oozed across her green-glitter nail polish.

Not the best way to start the evening. Many supernaturals were sensitive to the odor of blood, with vampires and werewolves among the most volatile.

Her feline nature surfacing, Camille ran her tongue over the wound and drew it into her mouth for a second, then removed it, checking the wound again. She grimaced. At the slightest bump tonight, that would be it—the nail would be toast.

As a precaution, she retrieved a Band-Aid from a box near the CD player. She chuckled at the ironic jaguar print she’d found on the Internet. This was her first opportunity to use them. When she finished wrapping the wound, she extended her hand, admiring the bandage.

Yep. So stinkin’ cute.

She glanced up and down her arm, watching as the jag spots that had dimly risen to the surface faded. Hmm. She still needed more control over that glimmer. But lately it seemed as though she’d reverted to her wild college days at Clemson, where she’d earned degrees in business and history. Her emotions were running just under the surface, and she was feeling that searching urge again, that drive to find something more to life than simple existence.

The front door opened then, and Julian Ellingham strolled in. A vampire with a slim face, high cheekbones, and hair the color of midnight, he had powerful shoulders and a greater-than-god attitude. He was all charm and personality. The town’s biggest playboy, too, rumor had it. But he’d directed a ton of customers to her doorstep so she tried to be grateful, despite her feelings toward him. Or toward all vamps, actually.

Almost on his heels, a small group of six regulars entered. Camille rented the small room from Mrs. Turner, and it really wouldn’t accommodate many more students than that. During the morning hours, other instructors occupied the space, offering classes like yoga and karate.

Alex Cruz flashed Camille a handsome grin as he walked in. A panther shifter and one of the town’s deputies, he was one of her favorite students. He had a quiet demeanor for someone in law enforcement, she thought.

She looked around the room. Most of her students right now were there to brush up their dancing skills prior to the town’s inaugural Mardi Gras Ball. But when her gaze landed on two female students, she couldn’t help but wonder if they had signed up because of Alex. There were certainly a lot of doe-eyed glances coming from them. She did know that Alex had talked werewolf sheriff Hank Merrow and his wife, Ivy, into taking the class, though.

Camille sighed as she watched Julian shed his outer jacket and hang it up. To her dismay, vamps made the best students. They were quick learners, sophisticated, and as it turned out, they didn’t mind parting with their money. She’d learned early on that the easiest way to make a profit was to cater to vamps, even if she didn’t like it. Especially here in Nocturne Falls where the Ellingham family owned nearly half the town.

Hell’s belles, her father must be rolling over in his grave.

But most paranormal beings here tried to get along at least. It was part of the reason she’d moved to Nocturne Falls. She’d discovered the code of ethics in town was pretty straightforward: don’t mess up the town’s facade of Halloween twenty-four seven, and mind your own business. And for the most part, it worked.

So she set aside her vampire hatred, telling herself the vamps here were different from the covens at home in New Orleans. She didn’t really believe that—in her heart, every vampire turned into the one who had slayed her parents—but it helped her take their money with a smile.

One day she’d be able to vindicate her past…

She expelled another heavy sigh, telling herself she was more sensitive today than usual since it was the anniversary of their deaths. Eight years… Could it possibly have been that long?

She shook herself. Now was not the time to think about that. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and began class. That was the thing about teaching: no matter how she felt, there was a certain amount of performance involved. If she had a headache, she still had to teach. If she had to put her dog down, she still had to go through the steps. And so she led the group through the warm-up exercises of the basics—box step, triple step, and rock step, along with walking with a partner. Then she segued into the individual dances. This evening’s lesson was near the end of the semester, which meant less instruction and more dancing.

Couples who came to class together usually remained paired; however, solo students changed off. Camille took a turn with each male, though, and when they rotated partners for the fourth time, Alex stepped to the front. She enjoyed dancing with him more than the other males in class. His sleek panther reflexes easily transferred through his steps and were a good match to hers. He was a confident leader without being overbearing, as Julian tended to be.

“The next dance is a fox-trot,” she announced, recalling the order of her music selections.

Alex took her hand, assuming the perfect frame, his free hand lightly touching her shoulder blade. He was a follow-the-rules guy, and he aimed to please.

She took a deep breath as they stepped off in unison and glided into a box step. He smelled of the woods, of pine and sage and earth—all scents she knew well. She kept expecting him to ask her out, but he never did. Why was that? Did he have a girlfriend she didn’t know about? He’d never mentioned anyone…

His eyes met hers. “You’re doing fantastic,” she told him. She let her eyelids sweep down to his chest and then back to his face.

He gave her a boyish smile. “Thanks.”

She glanced away, assessing her other students. “Nick, close your steps more and loosen up. Try not to be so stiff.”

“Gotcha,” he responded. But the gargoyle shifter’s movements barely changed.

The song ended, and the partners separated. Camille used her Bluetooth remote to pause the music. “Go ahead and take a break. Get a drink before we do our last dance of the evening, which will be a waltz.”

The students laughed and spoke softly to one another as they left the dance floor and gathered in small groups around the edges of the room. Camille grabbed a bottle of water off the table next to the sound system and took a sip. Julian followed her and did the same.

She noticed he drank a lot less water than the others did. Perhaps vampires didn’t need to replace fluids in the same way.

“Cami, could we do something other than a waltz for our final dance?” he asked.

She tensed at his implied familiarity. “It’s Camille. Only my dad called me Cami.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. He wouldn’t have known it was a sore spot for her. She shook her head. “But to answer your question, no. I already have the music lined up. And it makes for a nice cool down to finish the evening.”

His eyes flashed—in irritation, she thought—but he bent at the waist and bowed to her. “As you wish.” He extended his hand, motioning for her to take the center of the floor.

“Take your places everyone,” she said to the group.

She began the music and placed her hand in Julian’s outstretched one. A shiver ran through her. And not the good kind…

He twirled her effortlessly around the dance floor, regardless, and she couldn’t help but appreciate his grace. The next thing she knew, the waltz was finished and the students were packing up.

“Hey, everyone,” she shouted over the din of their chatting. “Don’t forget to sign up for next month. We’ll be focusing on Latin dances.”

Ivy nudged her husband. “Ooh, the tango. We need more of that!”

Hank rolled his eyes and then leaned in and whispered something in her ear that made her blush crimson as they headed for the door.

A typical couple thing.

The rest of her students left in small waves, though Julian lagged behind.

“I need to ask you something,” he said.

Camille hesitated, her back to him as she shut down the sound system. Was he going to ask her to the ball? The absurd idea flitted through her thoughts. She sure hoped not.

When she couldn’t put it off any longer, she turned to face him. Over his shoulder, she saw Alex pause at the door. Now that’s who she wanted to go out with.

She waved to him and smiled. “Bye, Alex.”

He nodded at her, then exited. When she glanced back at Julian, the vampire’s jaw was pulsing. Had he picked up on her interest? Living among paranormal beings was much tougher than living among humans. Their senses were sharper, keener. And they perceived things a girl sometimes wanted to hide.

“What’s up?” she asked.

His head angled abruptly to the side, as if he’d heard something that piqued his interest or distracted him. He stepped back and toward the window. “Never mind. I’ll catch you later.”

He spun on his heel and tromped out the door. His odd behavior left her wondering if he’d picked up on a scent or perhaps some trouble in the streets. Since he was usually Vampire On Duty for the nighttime entertainment crowd, she figured his reaction must have something to do with his work.

A tingle of apprehension lifted the hairs on her nape. She inhaled a long, slow, calming breath and swept her gaze across the empty studio. She was being ridiculous. No one was there.

She grabbed her things and tugged open the front door, ready to go home. As she reached for the light switch something brushed her arm, and she gasped, a scream caught in her throat.

Chapter Two

Every creature had its own scent, whether human, or werewolf, or Valkyrie, or vampire. It was the difference between an elephant and a giraffe, and they almost always left a trail of some sort behind them as they moved. One just needed to know the signs. And any good bounty hunter knew how to track them.

Payton Grey traced not far ahead. Older and more experienced vampires could trace a greater distance—a hundred miles at a time, perhaps—but Grey could only average around fifty or so. Which meant he was either young, injured, needing to feed, or suffering from a lack of cobine. And since he reportedly had commandeered the latter, Nathaniel didn’t think that was it.

Nathaniel had traced Grey across the country as the crow flies since he’d left the shack outside of Terror, following him from pit stop to pit stop and closing the guy’s three-hour lead. Coming to rest on the edge of a cornfield in southwestern Indiana, his gaze followed the coppery scent of blood floating on the night breeze.

The white of an animal’s tail caught his attention first. The dead rabbit was tucked between two dried and spent cornstalks. Nathaniel turned it over with the toe of his boot, and its neck flopped to the side, ragged and bloody. The bite had ripped a large gash in its throat.

The act spoke of unpreparedness and perhaps desperation. He shook his head. He wouldn’t waste any more time. Grey’s scent continued south, and so would he. He willed himself into the trace, again following the particles in the air that held the essence of the young veakling.

By the time he reached Tennessee, he surmised his prey was heading for either Nocturne Falls or New Orleans. Both were killer places to hide, but he was hoping for the latter. Last he’d heard, Jake had a place in Nocturne Falls, and he wasn’t planning on visiting his brother.

The pungent scent veered eastward for several miles, then turned south again.

If his instincts were correct, the gap between him and Grey drilled down to less than fifteen minutes. He didn’t linger at this touch point but pressed onward.

As he passed over the mountain ranges with updrafts and smoky mist, he had to concentrate even harder to stay on the trail. The veakling made another easterly turn, which could only mean one thing: his destination was Nocturne Falls. Nathaniel had never been there, but all paranormal creatures knew of the town that celebrated Halloween all year round.

And sure enough, when he reached the city limits, the sign read, WELCOME TO NOCTURNE FALLS—WHERE EVERY DAY IS HALLOWEEN.

Entering the town, he slowed his pace. Not because he wanted to but because of the intrusion of many other scents. He was so close. The rogue vampire was near. He could feel it. And yet it instantly became difficult to distinguish Grey’s particular essence.

Nathaniel jogged down Shadows Drive, turning his head to the right, then left. His senses were overwhelmed by supernatural beings of every kind—shifters, witches, vampires, and more. You name the creature, and it was probably there.

He stopped when he came to the fountain in the middle of town. The smell of the water floated on the air, cleansing it. He closed his eyes, shutting out all the people and creatures walking along the streets and shops. He allowed his instincts to rule, moving forward and turning down Jack O’Lantern Lane.

There. Grey’s stench…blanketed with that of the dead rabbit’s.

Nathaniel’s pulse ramped up in his anticipation of the forthcoming confrontation. He moved quickly along the walk when suddenly the scent was gone. He halted, then swept his gaze in an arc. Nothing. The veakling must have turned already.

Nathaniel backtracked until he scented Grey once more. Nathaniel turned into a shop—Camille’s Ballroom Dancing, he noted from a portable sign.

Was Grey hiding inside?

The door opened as the lights went out, and Nathaniel grabbed the wrist extending past the doorframe.

The sound of a gasp and the floral scent tickling his nose didn’t match up with his mark. He scrunched his brow. He’d been tracing for an awfully long time, after all. He hadn’t realized his level of fatigue. Then it registered that the wrist he was holding was of the female variety.

Definitely not his prey.

~ ~ ~

“Let go of me,” Camille screeched.

“The vampire. Where did he go?”

She tugged at her wrist, trying to get free. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

“Did he come inside? His scent is close.”

Camille couldn’t help herself, and she inhaled, simply to verify what he had said. Sure enough, there was a strange odor on the air. But that didn’t mean she knew anything about it.

“No one came inside. And I’m leaving for the evening. Please get out of my way.”

Instead, he held on tight. His fingers thrummed against her pulse point, as if he were tuning a guitar. Whatever was going through his mind, she didn’t know, but when he finally released her, he didn’t step away. His large, muscular frame remained, blocking her exit.

“I’m sorry,” the stranger said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m after someone, and he came in this direction.”

She tilted her head up, searching his eyes through the darkness. A car circled the fountain down the lane, illuminating him with its headlights. She had feline night vision and, like most paranormal beings, could see extremely well even in pitch-black conditions. As the lights passed over him, his eyes shone an amber-gold and his fangs elongated with a wicked hint of a smile. Was this his attempt at beguiling her?

No, she didn’t have time to go down that thoughtful road.

He reached above her head and forced the door open, pushing her back inside the room. “Do you mind if I have a quick look around?”

She swallowed hard. Yes! She minded a lot!

But it must not have really been a question, because he didn’t wait for her answer. He advanced, and she sidestepped to get out of his way, her irritation growing greater than her fear.

His footsteps echoed as he moved farther into the empty space. She didn’t take her eyes off him while she flipped on the light switch with trembling fingers.

“I already told you: no one is here,” she bit out, her voice anything but timid now.

And then she got her first good look at him. Air rushed into her lungs, and her breath caught. He was definitely handsome, but it was the scoped rifle slung across his shoulder that shocked her the most. Of their own volition, her claws extended and her jaguar spots glimmered.

He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden bright light. “Ugh. You didn’t have to go and do that.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “Take your look around and get out.”

He stared at her, his vision seeming to quickly adjust. She placed one balled fist on her hip and shifted her weight. As she stared back at him, she straightened and crossed her arms. He was a vampire—no surprise there—tall and powerfully built with blond, chin-length hair.

Run-your-fingers-through-it hair…

She lowered her hands and clasped them in front of her.

His brows were darker than his hair, his eyes hooded, his nose straight, and his lips on the full side. He had two days’ worth of stubble on his face. A black leather jacket, unbuttoned and open, showed off his physique, and a suede messenger bag was slung across his chest.

He spun around and checked the closet, bathroom, and corners. “Did you know a vampire can hang out in mid-trace? Essentially suspended?”

God, he carries all that muscle and authority well.

She tried to keep her voice even. “Yes. I know. Now can we be going?”

He sighed and led the way out. She flipped off the light and locked the door, even though it made her uneasy to have her back to him. She could feel his watchful eyes taking in her every move.

“You might want to check down the alley,” she said when she turned around.

He glared in that direction, his brow pinched, pensive and unsympathetic. “No. He’s gone.”

She started to leave, moving around him toward the fountain and the people walking the streets.

“Wait,” he said.

She didn’t want to, but her feet obeyed. She didn’t look over her shoulder, though. Just looked straight ahead. His clothes rustled, and she heard his steps as he came up behind her to stand at her left. She flicked a glance in his direction as he reached into his bag and produced a business card. He handed it to her.

“The rogue vampire I’m looking for could be dangerous. If you see anyone new or suspicious lurking around town, call me.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. “You haven’t been in Nocturne Falls long, have you?” Since she didn’t really care what his answer was, she rushed on. “There are strangers trolling the streets every night here.”

“If you see him, you’ll know it. He has a tattoo of a snake on his neck.”

Camille shivered. She hated snakes even more than she hated vampires.

~ ~ ~

Nathaniel laughed under his breath as she hustled down the street. Her light-brown hair swished across her back as she walked. His eyes slid lower, admiring the provocative sway of her hips. Feline shifters had a seductive stride like no other supernatural. He shook his head to clear it.

The silly, fearful girl… She had little to dread from him. He prided himself on being able to control himself, no matter the situation. It was a characteristic that made him a superior bounty hunter, and it was a quality he valued in others.

The vampire he chased didn’t possess such an ability.

Slowly, he moved into the street and glanced in both directions. As long as he had been tracking Grey in the uncomplicated, earthy-scented outdoors, the vampire had been an easy target. But here it was much more difficult to distinguish his aroma. Sort of like separating out the smell of blueberry from a bowl of ambrosia.

He licked his lips, hungry. Since it seemed he would be staying at least the night, his next order of business was to find food and shelter.

Nathaniel strolled down Main Street, marveling at the town all decked out in mini-lights. He’d never seen so much orange and purple in his entire life. A few paranormal creatures played up to the crowd, assuming stereotypical roles. A werewolf harassed a grandma with gray hair, who gave a scream and then laughed. They were acting their parts for the humans, he realized. Live entertainment—it was the reason tourists flocked here.

Several people turned their heads as Nathaniel traveled along the center of the street as if he owned it. When he came to the Black Rose Dead and Breakfast, he marched up the wooden steps and headed inside. It was midweek, so hopefully it wasn’t all booked up.

A small cubicle served as a front desk, and a short elfin woman looked him up and down with piercing brown eyes. “May I help you?” she asked.

“That depends. Do you have a vacant room?”

She smacked her wrinkled lips together. “That depends. Can you be courteous and well-mannered?” She slipped on wire-rimmed glasses, tucking them behind her pointed ears, and then peered at him over the lenses.

He flashed a smile and bowed slightly. “But of course.”

“Hmph.” She flipped a sheet of paper on the desk. “I have an upstairs room at the back. Has its own bath. One hundred a night.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

“But I’ll give you the vampire special of ninety dollars,” she added.

“Thank you—” he read her name tag “—Mrs. Turnbuckle.”

She gave a single sharp nod and pursed her lips as he handed over the bills for one night’s stay. She counted it with flair, placed it in a drawer, and slid a key toward him. “Here you go.”

He snatched it up. No electronic key cards here. As he tossed it in the air and caught it, he shot her a wink. “Thanks.”

“Rascal,” she muttered.

“The name’s Nathaniel,” he shot back over his shoulder.

She chuckled as he walked away.

Moving up the stairs and down the hallway, he paid attention to the sounds of the old house and its structural details, memorizing them. Which boards creaked beneath his weight? How far it was to his door? Was there a rear exit? Who else was staying here?

When he reached his room, he turned the key and slipped inside.

The place was decorated in classy gothic decor with cream-colored walls, wood floors, a deep burgundy-and-black bedspread, black curtains, and an electric, wrought iron candelabra on the nightstand. He got a chuckle out of the closet, which was a rough-hewn casket fixed to the wall. He removed his two changes of clothes from his messenger bag and gave them a shake before hanging them up.

Next, he unpacked his blood supply. The suite had a small refrigerator in the corner. A necessary perk since the place advertised that they catered to vamps. He stored the three vials he’d brought.

Mmm breakfast.

For the time being, he’d settle for the instant version. Not exactly to his liking, but it did the trick in a pinch. He got a glass of warm water from the sink, dumped in a packet of brownish-red powder, and stirred it with the back end of his toothbrush.

He wrinkled his nose at his first taste. The initial hit was always the worst. He only drank the stuff when he was on the road, and it took a swig or two to get used to the taste. As he swallowed, he thought of the human equivalent of chocolate milk or maybe one of those fruity, vitamin powder drinks. The latter he could at least tolerate.

His phone whistled. He swiped his thumb over the screen, revealing a message from Connor requesting an update. Anxious bastard.

Nathaniel scrolled on. He’d answer the missive when he’d caught the vampire, and only then.

Another swipe over the phone screen landed him on his brother’s number. His finger hovered over the screen. He knew he really should call. Really should catch up. Really should put the past behind him.

But he stared at the screen until it went blank.

Nope.

He thrust it into his coat pocket.

With his lodging taken care of and something in his stomach, it was time to find Grey. In most cities, he would unearth the underground vampire faction, but here, things were right out in the open. Even still, he’d bet there were popular dives and hidden places where only the locals hung out. And he’d find them.

Chapter Three

Camille needed a drink. Big-time. She eased into one of the Poisoned Apple’s burgundy leather booths where her friend and fellow feline shifter, Caroline—CC for short—was waiting.

CC leaned on the table. “Freakin’ Hour was almost up. I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered you a Little Birdie.”

“Two-for-one drinks,” Camille said, without censoring her exasperation. “Perfect. Just what I need.”

CC narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”

Camille brushed her hair behind an ear as she scanned the bar—just to be sure he wasn’t there somehow. “This vamp from out of town rushed into the studio as I was locking up. Said he was after another vampire.”

CC raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Anything kinky?”

Slipping out of her jacket, Camille shook her head. “No. He’ll probably be on his way tomorrow.” She inhaled deeply, allowing her chest to rise and fall. “But good heavens, for a bloodsucker, he sure was gorgeous. Fit, tall…and blond.”

“Really? Oooh, one of those rare ones.”

“I know, right?”

The waitress delivered their drinks, and CC paid her.

“The next one’s on me,” Camille said.

“’Kay.” CC ran her tongue around the edge of her glass, licking the sugar. “So what else about this vamp?”

Camille sipped her drink. “What’s in this anyway?” she asked, distracted by the coconut flavor swirling in her mouth.

Her friend shrugged. “Vodka, coconut rum, and lemon sorbet… I think.” She paused, smacking her lips. “Back to my question.”

Camille took another sip. “It was weird. The guy even gave me his card.” She withdrew it from her purse and read it aloud. “Nathaniel Newburg. Bounty Hunter.”

“Bounty Hunter?” CC scoffed. “Man, you can pick ’em.”

“Hey, what does that mean? He ran into me, not the other way around,” she defended. “I don’t like vamps, and you know it.” Her voice was now a whisper.

“Okay, okay…” CC said, raising a hand in submission. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

“Relax.” She leaned back in her seat and let the coolness of the leather seep through her shirt.

“Let’s barhop. Head over to Howler’s and maybe shoot some pool or somethin’.” Then she smiled. “I saw Kevin James going in when I passed.”

“Checking out someone new?” Camille didn’t want to dwell on CC’s latest breakup—it would only bring her friend down—and luckily, it seemed CC didn’t, either. “Sounds good to me.”

The Poison Apple had a band playing that night, so Camille and CC both angled sideways in their seats and listened while they finished their drinks. After that, they headed a few streets over to Howler’s and went to the back room where the pool tables and bar games were.

Sure enough, Kevin was there, leaning over a pool table, racking up a game. “Okay, who’s next?” he asked the crowd.

The room grew silent as everyone looked around, taking in the other patrons. “I’m out,” said Todd Grieves, a dragon shifter Camille had been interested in for a while. “I’m grabbing a burger.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Camille saw CC step forward. But at the same time, someone else came out of the shadows—a vampire.

He was young and had a mean look about him. His cheeks dipped inward, lean and pronounced, and his jawline flared wide. He had a long face, but it wasn’t narrow, and he had a mustache and goatee.

“I’ll play you for some info on where to pick up a…meal,” the stranger said.

Everyone in the room knew he was talking about where he could get blood. Camille was pretty sure there was only one place that served a vampire meal—Insomnia, a members-only club for supernaturals.

Kevin grinned. “That’s easy. Let’s get started.”

CC’s face fell as she lost her chance to go toe to toe with Kevin. But she recovered quickly and sauntered over for a good seat to watch the game.

Camille’s gaze shot back to the vampire. He removed his jacket and stretched. As he turned to face her fully, her scrutiny landed on the snake tattoo slithering up his neck. He looked straight at her and tilted his head, almost as if he recognized her.

But she was the one who recognized him. This was the vampire the bounty hunter was looking for.

She swallowed and took a step backward. She watched as he hit the cue ball with such force, she thought it might disintegrate. And between every set, his black eyes returned to her.

Call the bounty hunter.

Camille edged closer to CC and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back.”

The restroom was a long way from the pool area, back in the restaurant section of Howler’s, but she briskly strolled to the other end and stopped near the kitchen. She hoped the noise there would be enough to drown out the conversation she was about to have. Her hand shook as she removed her phone and the business card from her pocket. So much so that it took her two tries to snag the slim edge of her cell and then hit the “call” button.

After glancing around, she considered the business card and entered the number, praying this was the smart thing to do.

“Nathaniel here,” the vampire said in a reverberating tone.

Camille rushed into the conversation before she could change her mind. “This is Camille. We met today at my dance studio. I’m at Howler’s, and the vampire you are searching for is here.”

“Howler’s?”

“Yes.”

“Stay put,” he ordered. Then the line went silent.

Camille had no sooner glanced up from her cell phone that she heard a loud crack! from the direction of the pool room. A second later, the snake-necked vampire paused in front of the restaurant entrance as he glared at her with glowing, defiant eyes. He snarled, displaying his fangs in silent promise. He’d heard her conversation.

She trembled, her heart beating in bursts.

Then he pushed his way outside and was gone.

When she could breathe again, she ran to the back room to see if CC and everyone else were okay. “What happened?” Camille asked.

CC placed her hand on Camille’s. “He had some sort of temper tantrum, breaking the pool stick and throwing it across the room. That’s all.”

“I think he heard my call. He gave me the evil eye before he ran out the door. He was the one the bounty hunter was looking for. It was like he knew I was reporting him. I should have gone outside, maybe even down the road, to make that call,” Camille whispered.

She shook her head. Kevin was setting up another game as if nothing had happened. She guessed many of the alpha males were used to such confrontations.

With a nudge of her chin toward Kevin, she said, “Go ahead and play. I’m going home.”

CC didn’t hesitate, saying, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” She hugged CC good-bye. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

When Camille stepped out of Howler’s, there he was, an immovable wall, as if a boulder had dropped in front of her.

“He’s gone,” she said by way of explanation. “He must have heard me speaking to you because he fled as soon as I disconnected.”

The bounty hunter left her and traced in a wide circle before returning, clearly trying to pick up his target’s scent.

Standing next to her once more, he crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Damn this town. There are so many different creatures that their odors interfere with one another.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll catch him.”

“And then what will you do with him?”

“Take him home to Minnesota.”

“Oh my,” she said, amazed. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes. But the weather is more agreeable here. I may stay awhile.” He laughed, and she discovered it was a nice sound. Her insides did a series of flip-flops, and her unease lessened.

Still, he is a vampire and not to be trusted, her inner voice warned.

He smiled at her as if he knew the cause of her hesitation. But he could not know that a vampire had lured and betrayed her father, getting him killed. She stiffened at the memory.

“I’d like to repay you for calling me,” he said, surprising her again. “Even though Grey got away, I appreciate your effort. May I buy you a drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve had enough. And it’s not necessary. Really.”

“Something to eat, then? Have you eaten? You can help me get to know the town.”

“I don’t think so.” She began to walk down the street.

“Dessert! How about ice cream?” His eyes grew darker.

She pursed her lips, wondering if he was doing the trance thing she’d heard vampires could do. Gosh, he sure was alluring. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

He traced in front of her, making her stop, and gave her a smile. “No. I’m not.”

It might have been the two Little Birdies she’d already had, but she glanced sideways, saying, “All right. The Ice Scream Shop is just around the corner.”

Chapter Four

The Ice Scream Shop garnered a quick turnover with most tourists making their selections and taking their desserts with them. And to Nathaniel’s delight, the shop offered a bloody maraschino cherry sorbet. The bloody part consisted of an oozy cherry syrup drizzled on top. He was drooling just looking at it.

There were several wrought iron tables outside lining the street and adjacent alley. Once they’d ordered, Nathaniel chose one in the front corner, assuming Camille would rather be out in the open than tucked in the shadows, as he would have normally preferred. He pulled out a chair for her, and she set down the double-cream supreme chocolate sundae she’d selected before sitting down herself.

Nathaniel sat, as well, and took one bite of his ice cream. The full, tangy taste of cherries slid down his throat, and he instantly knew what they must serve in heaven. “Mmm, this is my new most favorite thing,” he said. “I’m going make Nocturne Falls a regular pit stop when I travel.”

“What’s your old most favorite thing?” She peered at him from beneath her lashes and gave a soft laugh.

He smiled at her inquisitive question, somehow pleased that she was showing an interest in him. “Coffee. Dark, strong, and straight-up. With none of those frothy frills.”

“Hmm. I like the frothy frills. Give me a caramel mocha any day,” she said, her southern accent growing heavier.

He smiled. “I’m not shocked.” He took another bite of his dessert. “Have you lived here long? Your accent reminds me of New Orleans.”

“Pretty good guess, Bounty Hunter,” she said with a smile. “I grew up there actually. Only moved here a year ago. After…after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He leaned closer to her, wanting to slip his arm around her but restraining himself. He sensed she wouldn’t allow it.

She lifted a shoulder and held it there for a moment before letting it fall back down. “Some things you just don’t get over.” Then her demeanor changed as she straightened in her chair. Her smile seemed to take effort, as if forced. “But I moved on. Now I have a new life in a new town.”

He nodded. He definitely understood loss. And he understood it took time to heal.

He really should call Jake…

“Listen.” He lowered his voice as he reached out and placed his hand over hers on the table, giving in to the strong desire to touch her. She didn’t pull away, but she did tense. “I appreciate you helping me, but now I’m worried that Grey might retaliate. If he heard your phone call, then he’s made the connection between you and me. And he’s known to be brutal.”

“I didn’t consider that when I called. He just felt…wrong.”

He gave a grateful smile, knowing exactly what she meant. “You have good instincts. Trust them.” And on that note, he added, “Let me walk you home.”

Her brows shot to her hairline in wonder.

“I only want to know that you’re safe,” he clarified.

She began to rise, and he got up quickly to help her with her chair. His gaze landed on her delicious lips as they moved ever so slightly, perhaps in time with her thoughts.

“Better to have your enemy at your side than face one you don’t know.” Her words were barely a murmur.

He furrowed his brow. Was she giving herself some sort of pep talk? “I’m not your enemy,” he said, setting her straight.

Her head snapped around, and she rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t know I said that out loud.”

“It’s okay.”

“Since you did get me into this—” She paused as a wave of uncertainty crossed her face “—yes, I’d appreciate it if you’d escort me home.”

~ ~ ~

Camille watched the shadows as they walked along. Nathaniel was the perfect vampire gentleman, all dark and dangerous, as they strolled down the street. He acknowledged the tourists as they passed and flashed a bit of fang for their benefit.

“I could get used to this,” he admitted as one woman jumped away from him. “To think these people come here to be scared.”

“I know,” she said on a laugh. “Who knew.”

“The town is obviously doing well.”

They turned down Crossbones Drive, and she stopped in front of the Apex, the town’s newest apartment complex. She’d been one of the first residents to move in last year.

“Well, here we are,” she told him. “Home sweet home. Thanks.”

His eyes raked over her in a way that made her tingle all over. She suddenly felt a strong pull of attraction and wanted to rub up against him like the feline she was.

Oh geez.

She backed away and waved. “See you around.”

Holy shuffle-step, that was so lame.

“See you tomorrow,” he said in a low voice as she dipped inside the apartment.

Tomorrow? She stood perfectly still, resisting the urge to ease the curtain aside and watch his retreat. No, she would remain strong.

Tilly, her dark tiger tabby cat, and Trouble, her red Maine Coon, walked around her, taking turns zigzagging between her legs as she strolled to the kitchen. “I know. It’s been a weird night,” she said to them. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and gave them each a treat at the same time. “How about for you?”

The animals lumbered into the bedroom alongside her, and she dropped onto the mattress without so much as pulling down the bedspread. Trouble jumped up and pushed her head beneath Camille’s hand.

“I think I like the vampire,” she said in a sleepy whisper. “But Papa always warned me that they were shady, not to be trusted.” She scratched the spot between Trouble’s ears, which the cat had strategically placed beneath Camille’s fingers. “How is that possible for a Nahuel?”

~ ~ ~

Nathaniel found an unlocked minivan parked along the street and folded his large form into the backseat. He flicked the lever to recline. It was the closest thing to comfort he could find while still being able to watch Camille’s place. Experience told him that if he watched and waited, his bounty would eventually come to him. Either Grey would seek out Camille because the vampire thought she’d wronged him, or he’d pursue Nathaniel because the vamp thought he could eliminate his hunter.

No matter what, Grey was in foreign territory. Nathaniel’s number-one concern flitted through his head: what would Grey do when he needed to feed?

As dawn approached, he observed the town closing up shop. The dead of night was the prime time for most supernaturals. He’d noticed some of the stores opened at noon, which made sense. If the tourists got into the paranormal activities, then they’d sleep as late as the townspeople did.

With a groan, Nathaniel got out of the van. He gave Camille’s apartment one final glance and then traced to the D&B.

Chapter Five

Camille rolled out of bed and peered at the clock. Ugh! She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was two in the afternoon! How could she have slept so late? She stared at the unset alarm clock in disbelief. Now half the things she’d had on her schedule for today weren’t going to get done. Great.

Stretching, she padded into the kitchen to the rhythm of a pounding headache. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was hungover. But she’d only had two drinks. Though they had been pretty strong… Her thoughts churned over last night’s events, and she gave a groan when she came to the memory of eating ice cream with a sexy vampire.

She paused mid-thought. Did she really think he was sexy? He certainly had a sensual mysteriousness about him…

With an inner feline growl, she had to admit that she was attracted to him. Somehow, she was disappointed in herself for it, though.

“Not one of my better evenings,” she told Tibby as the cat jumped onto the table to look out the window.

Camille heated a frozen waffle and ate it on her way to take a shower. It didn’t taste very good, but she wasn’t in the mood to make anything more complex.

By the time she was clean, dressed, and heading out the door, her headache had subsided and she’d pared her to-do list down to only four items. If traffic wasn’t too bad, then she should be able to get them all in before going to the studio. She decided to begin with getting her nails done and finish at the drug store. That would give her a path straight across town.

Her mood improved as she went along. When she was exiting the post office—the third task of the afternoon—she glimpsed Nathaniel across the street at the police station speaking to Alex. Instinctively, she ducked into the shadows and waited until the men left. Had he found the vampire he was after?

It was none of her business, she reminded herself, and moved on to her final task. The promise of teaching class—the dancing and the music—made her feel alive, as it always did.

She had a skip to her step as she unlocked and entered the studio.

This evening’s class was the third and final brush-up class scheduled before the Mardi Gras Ball tomorrow night. The residents really got into their activities, and the events were great for her business.

Camille opened the curtains. She’d found that if people could see the dancing, it also helped bring in more customers.

Tonight’s group filed in right on time. The conversation among them centered around tomorrow’s ball. There was a bit of controversy due to the addition of the Mardi Gras Ball to the Nocturne Fall’s calendar since the town council’s purists wanted to hold only one monthly event and they’d already had the Valentine’s Day Bake-Off. However, the town was expanding now that a lot of younger supernaturals and active families, who wanted things to do, were coming to town.

Camille glanced around the room with a keen eye. It was time to begin, and they were missing folks. “Where are Alex and Hank?”

“They were called to a case,” Julian replied. “And Ivy didn’t want to come without Hank.”

“I heard someone died,” a young woman named Sarah added, touching her throat with trembling fingers, as if she was imagining a murderer twisting her neck.

Camille’s curiosity rose as the memory of Alex and Nathaniel talking together earlier flashed in her mind.

Julian thrust his hands into his pockets. “Speaking as VOD, I’m sure we’ll hear some news by midnight.”

Everyone nodded. There was nothing more to say.

“Okay, let’s pair off,” Camille told the class.

When they were ready to begin, she stood apart from the group, as she usually did when there was an even number of students. Unexpectedly, the studio door opened. All heads turned to see who had entered, and in the doorway stood Nathaniel Newburg, handsome as ever.

It took her a moment to regain her composure at the sight of him. “If you come in, you dance. Studio rules.” She tried to inject some lightness into her tone, anything that wouldn’t give away her reaction to him.

Her heart leaped in her chest as he nodded and said, “Okay.”

Crap. Honestly, she hadn’t thought he’d agree and would just leave. But now that she knew he wasn’t going anywhere, she motioned him to the front. “Since everyone is already set, you’ll dance with me.”

Oh, the warring feelings in her tummy. On one hand, she was quite attracted to him; on the other, he was a vampire. Ugh, why had she insisted he dance?

When he stood across from her, he bowed slightly in acknowledgment.

“Will we be alternating partners?” Julian asked.

“No,” Nathaniel said in an adamant tone, not taking his eyes off her.

Camille cleared her throat. “That’s not for you to say. However, since tonight we’re practicing the tango, which can be complicated, we will remain with the same partners throughout the evening.”

Julian made a huffy sound, visibly irritated, but said nothing.

“Okay. The tango.” She faced Nathaniel and lifted a hand for him to take. He stunned her by placing his hands in the correct positions. “You’ve done this before,” she whispered.

He smirked. “You don’t live several hundreds of years without learning a thing or two.”

She rolled her eyes and went on, speaking to the class now. “If you recall, you can dance open, with a bit of space between you, or—” she inched closer until her chest barely touched Nathaniel’s, their clothes kissing “—closed, standing almost touching.”

He spoke softly, his breath fanning her cheek. “Mmm, I like this.”

Me too, she thought but didn’t dare say aloud.

They accomplished an eight-count sequence, and hot desire circled down into her hips.

“Find a position with your partner, and let’s walk,” she instructed the class.

She indicated for Nathaniel to move clockwise around the room. “The male leads, and the woman follows. Each carries their own weight with every step, but in the purest form, the partners move as one.”

She turned the lead completely over to Nathaniel, and he moved her into a series of steps. Their breath shared the same space as he pressed his cheek close to hers. His stubble brushed her skin, exciting her and sending a tingling sensation to her toes.

She swallowed, then said to her students, “It’s improvisation at its finest.”

As class continued, Camille noticed Julian shooting angry glances at Nathaniel. The hometown vamp wasn’t into the dancing this evening at all and was clearly just going through the motions.

When they took a break, Camille queued up the next music selection, and she noticed Julian heading straight for Nathaniel.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she overheard him say. “I’m Julian Ellingham.”

“Nathaniel Newburg.”

The two shook hands.

“Are you just visiting or looking to stay awhile?” Julian asked.

Nathaniel shrugged. “Haven’t decided.”

“Is this your first time in Nocturne Falls?”

“Yes. I’m from Terror, Minnesota.”

Julian pulled himself taller. “I’ve heard of Terror. Things get pretty intense up there.”

“They do,” was all Nathaniel said in response.

Camille returned to them. This was a new side of Julian, something beyond the VOD personality she usually saw. He had an edge to him tonight—what she’d call active vampire-mode. Of course, she’d didn’t make it a point to hang around the vamp crowd so maybe that wasn’t the best way to think of it, but whatever. The two vampires seemed ready to butt chests or something.

“Hey, cool it,” she whispered to them, even though she knew everyone in the room could hear. Then she addressed the group at a normal volume. “Okay. One last dance and we’re finished for tonight.”

Nathaniel spun to glare out the window. “I’ll sit this one out,” he said, making a beeline for the door.

Confused by his rapid departure and peeved because she wasn’t in the position to address the issue while in the middle of class, she let the music play. “Positions,” she announced, as the introductory phrase finished.

As the students danced, she couldn’t believe how long three minutes could seem. She was itching to find out where Nathaniel had gone. What had she missed?

~ ~ ~

Outside, Nathaniel exhaled a harsh breath. He’d fled the room for two reasons. First of all, dancing that tango with Camille again would have killed him with desire. His body grew hot with every shift of her hips and undulation of her body. His attraction to her was undeniable, and yet he had no business thinking of her in those seductive terms. He had a traitor to catch and return to Terror. She had a home here, and based on the little he’d gleaned from her, he didn’t want to be the one to uproot her.

Secondly, he had caught a hint of conversation outside as two males approached the studio. He began to move toward them. As he got closer, he confirmed his suspicion from the comments he’d overheard: they were the law enforcement officers in Nocturne Falls.

Nathaniel approached cautiously, introducing himself as a bounty hunter and handing the alpha his card.

“I’m Sheriff Hank Merrow,” the older man said. “And this is Deputy Cruz.”

“Ah yes, we’ve met.” He nodded to Alex. “But I’m pleased to meet your acquaintance, Sheriff.” Nathaniel paused. “You’re heading to the dance studio?”

“Yes,” the sheriff said. “We’ve had some trouble in town with some visitors, and after questioning Caroline Linzer, we think Camille may have seen our suspect.”

“Did Caroline see him?” Nathaniel asked, even though he didn’t know who Caroline was. He gathered she was a friend of Camille’s.

“No,” Merrow replied.

Nathaniel ran his hand over his jaw, looking over his shoulder to the studio. The music had stopped, so class was over. “Look. How about waiting until the students clear out, and then we can all chat?”

Merrow look to Alex, and Alex nodded.

“All right. Fair enough,” the sheriff said.

Nathaniel allowed the two men to lead the way. He entered the studio after them and stood off to the side as they sought out Camille.

~ ~ ~

“We missed you,” Sarah said as Hank and Alex walked in.

Alex folded his arms in front of him. “Had a few things to take care of.”

“We just stopped by to tell everyone we’re looking forward to the ball on Friday,” Hank said.

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell us more?” Julian inquired, still seeming out of sorts.

“Can’t. But we will when we know something for certain. We may have an announcement for the news later tonight.” Hank’s tone indicated he wouldn’t be pushed further.

Slowly, the group began to file out. As they left, the conversation among the ladies turned to what they were going to wear to the ball. The men, however, were not happy that the sheriff was keeping secrets. Even if it was a matter of confidentiality, their personalities demanded to be included.

The door closed after everyone except Hank, Alex, and Nathaniel was gone. Camille turned worried eyes to Hank and Alex.

“We wanted to speak to you in private,” Alex said, his voice reassuring as he stepped closer to her. He took her hand and held it in his.

The flare of jealousy struck Nathaniel from out of nowhere. He hadn’t anticipated feeling so much for her. Heck, he hadn’t expected to feel anything.

He braced himself for more as her exotic dark-brown eyes widened.

“Is something the matter?” she asked. “You’re scaring me.”

She remembered the day two years ago when deputies knocked on her door and announced that her parents had been struck and killed by a runaway truck. What she’d learned later was that her parents had been fleeing a vampire. And it was so much more than an unfortunate accident.

Her father had kept a diary where he documented a feud that had started centuries ago between the vampire coven and the feline clan. It had begun with an elopement of a Nahuel with a vampire. Family members on both sides were killed, and the hatred had been passed from one generation to the next.

She could see how such hatred survived. Even now, the trauma from her parents’ deaths was still raw.

“We’ve had a couple of incidents today,” Hank started. “And Caroline told us you had something unusual happen last night.”

Her gaze slid to Nathaniel and back.

“Let me explain,” he said, “since I was the one who dragged you into this.” He faced the officers but focused on Hank. “As I told Deputy Cruz earlier, I’m a bounty hunter. I followed a rogue vampire into Nocturne Falls last night, and I lost him somewhere near the studio. That’s when I met Camille. Then last night, when Camille was out with her friend, she saw my mark, Payton Grey. I had given her my card so she called me. That’s the extent of her involvement.”

Hank and Alex exchange a knowing look. “Well, it appears your mark has gone berserk. Someone broke into Creepy Critter Pets last night.”

Camille reached over and grabbed Nathaniel’s arm for support. Caroline’s family owned that store. “No,” she gasped.

“Caroline is all right,” Alex rushed on. “But the perp killed a few rabbits, and…” He paused.

“We found a dead human near the road into town,” the sheriff finished. “We think he was a hitchhiker.”

“Oh no!” Her hand flew to cover her mouth, and the jaguar awoke at the intense pain shooting through her chest.

“What can I do to help?” Nathaniel asked.

The sheriff shook his head. “Help us catch him. And then get him out of here.”

“That’s the plan,” Nathaniel said with a nod.

Camille took a long, slow breath, trying to calm her jaguar. “I should go be with Caroline. She’s no doubt shaken.”

“Yes. As expected,” Alex confirmed.

As the sheriff and Nathaniel began to discuss strategy, Alex drew her to the side. “Camille, I want you to be careful. Something is up with this vampire. He’s dangerous and unpredictable.”

Nathaniel had said the same thing. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’ll keep a sharp eye out for him.”

But even if she encountered this Payton Grey, she had no idea of how to handle him.

Chapter Six

Sheriff Merrow gave them a lift over to Creepy Critter Pets. Camille was the first one through the door.

“CC!” she called. “Are you all right?”

CC—who Nathaniel gathered was also Caroline—stood up from behind the counter. Camille rushed over to her, and the friends hugged for a long time.

“It was awful,” CC said. “Someone broke in. Things were a mess. They let all the animals out of their kennels. And the rabbits…” She burst into tears.

With more calm than she’d displayed at the studio, Camille stroked CC’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

“I feel so violated,” CC said.

“I know.”

With a lift of his brow and nod of his chin, Merrow silently signaled for Nathaniel and Alex to follow him. They went out the back door.

“We found the rabbits out here,” Merrow explained. “Although, according to Caroline, they had originally been inside.”

Nathaniel flexed his jaw, grinding his molars. “Grey must have a thing for rabbits. He took one on the journey here also. My best guess is that he needed to feed, but the rabbits must not have been enough, so he stumbled across the human and attacked. Some vamps get the short end of the stick when it comes to control.”

Merrow nodded. “I don’t like that he chose to come to Caroline’s place when she was with Camille last night, especially after their run-in with him at Howler’s. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. What do you think?” He looked at his deputy.

Alex frowned. “Hard to say.”

The sheriff sighed and led the way back into the pet shop. With Camille’s help, the females had straightened the toppled cans of animal food and were well on the way to having the shop fixed up again.

“Maybe you should stay at my place tonight,” Camille suggested to CC.

CC gave a half smile. “That would be nice.”

The males helped with some final clean up as CC gathered her things, and then they all exited the shop together.

“Let’s hope we catch this vamp before tomorrow evening,” Alex said. “We don’t want him ruining our ball. I’ve worked too hard learning those fancy steps.” He grinned at Camille, and her face flushed with color.

Nathaniel curled his hands into fists, jealousy raging through him. “Why don’t I escort the women home?” he suggested as calmly as he could.

“Good idea,” said the sheriff. “Be in touch if you see or hear anything else regarding this vampire, and we’ll do the same.”

Nathaniel nodded and then guided Camille and CC down the street.

When they reached Camille’s doorstep, CC went on inside while Camille lingered with the door ajar. The poor girl, he thought of CC. She seemed absolutely spent, and Nathaniel wouldn’t be surprised if she was asleep on the couch within minutes.

He gazed at Camille as she pushed her hair away from her face and stretched. Anxiety wound through him as he warred with the decision of what to do next. Should he go back to the D&B, or should he offer to stay?

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier,” she said, “but you did great dancing tonight.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

She wet her lips, staring up at him. “Will you be going to the ball tomorrow night?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Nodding slowly, she rubbed her neck. “This is such a mess. What this vampire is doing…” She paused, inhaling as if searching for some composure. “I’ll admit I’m a little scared.”

He didn’t think the words came easy for her, and he was honored that she trusted him with this vulnerable side of her. He stepped closer and drew her into a hug. He felt the tension leave her body as she sighed against his chest.

“It will be okay,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“My job.”

She tilted her head back, her brow bunching. “You’ll catch him?”

“One way or another.” He leaned closer, and before he could think better of it, he gently kissed her brow and then smoothed his lips over her hairline. “I promise,” he whispered, his mouth still against her delicate skin.

She turned her head and let her lips brush his ever so lightly.

“You have my phone number. If Grey shows up, call me right away,” he said. “I’ll check back here throughout the night, though, okay?”

She nodded. Then she stepped away from him and toward the door. Looking over her shoulder, a purring sound escaped her throat. “By the way,” she said, “I want to tango tomorrow night. Be ready.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

For a moment, he stood there, frozen in place, his heart hammering, his senses burning for her. No female had made him feel so alive before. Ever. One had never made him anticipate and long for a freaking dance, either.

Finally, he turned and walked away from her apartment, forcing his thoughts back to the case. If he were Payton Grey, where would he be?

Hiding in plain sight.

Yes, he would canvas the town, beginning with a shop where he could pick up something to wear to the ball tomorrow. If he zigzagged across town, perhaps he’d catch the veakling’s scent. It was a long shot, but better than waiting around doing nothing.

As it was, finding an appropriate suit turned out to be the easy part. There had been no hint of Grey during his initial canvassing, so he dropped his new three-piece suit off at the D&B where he grabbed his rifle and downed some dinner before setting out again.

For the remainder of the night, he power-traced around town—beginning with the kill spot from the previous evening—looking, assessing, and discarding. Between every other stop, he’d trace to Camille’s apartment, just to make sure she and CC were all right.

Exhaustion claimed him at daylight.

I’ll just rest for an hour or so…he promised himself as he fell into bed.

Chapter Seven

A loud bang sounded, like a door slamming. He shot straight up and sprang from the bed, brandishing one of his deadly handmade knives, his eyes searching the room.

As he got his bearings, he glanced at the bedside clock: 11:00 a.m.

Man, he was tired. All that tracing last night had taken its toll.

But now that he was awake and listening, the town seemed to be livelier than usual before noon. He reminded himself that not everyone in Nocturne Falls required the cover of darkness that vampires did, but still.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep, he showered and dressed for the ball early. There were ways around the sunlight problem, and it didn’t affect him much to begin with, at least not for brief exposures.

He wore black pants and a button-down beneath his new vest and jacket of large-print, gold-and-red-leaf brocade set against a black background. The look was complemented by a cross pendant of brushed gold. It messed with people’s minds for a vampire to wear a cross, but the tale was a myth anyway.

Then he put on gloves, a hat, and sunglasses for added protection during the quick dashes he’d make between buildings, and finally, he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

Always be prepared.

Stepping out from the shadows of the D&B, he hugged the buildings as he traced his way across town. He ducked inside Mummy’s Diner and grabbed a seat by the window, shaded by a huge oak tree, where he could watch the foot traffic while he got a cup of coffee. He grinned at the tagline on the menu: Our food is to die for.

He placed his coffee order and then rested his elbows on the table, staring out the window. “Where are you, Grey?” he mumbled under his breath.

His gaze skimmed the edges of the street. When he hunted someone, he usually managed to get them to turn and fight, but that wasn’t the case this time. Then again, something seemed particularly wrong with this vampire. He preyed on the weak and helpless, even more so than a typical veakling.

Immediately, Nathaniel’s mind turned to Camille and CC, and the poor man who had been killed. Vampires didn’t have to go after humans. For hundreds of years, there had been manufactured ways feed, so attacking a human like that was a choice.

The sudden thought of Camille falling victim to the likes of Payton Grey created a raging need in his soul, the need to protect her, to love her, to experience everything about her.

But first he had a job to finish.

~ ~ ~

Camille threw her head back and laughed as the music began. She was in her element, sheer joy oozing from every pore as she danced with several of the students from class.

The decorating committee had outdone themselves. Colorful swaths of fabric in hues of gold, teal, and purple were draped overhead and lit by spotlights. The musicians were outstanding, too. Then there were the attendees, who were dressed in outlandish costumes—a fan of feathers worn as a framed collar, an angelic starburst attached to the back of a dress, a mask of three horns. Most attendees sported masks of some sort actually. Everything was perfect.

Even as she danced, Camille wondered if she could draw Nathaniel to the dance floor. He had shown himself to be surprisingly skilled during class, and she wanted to take another turn with him.

~ ~ ~

Nathaniel sucked in a breath as he watched Camille dominate the dance floor with her current partner, Alex Cruz, and glared. He definitely didn’t like those hands touching any part of Camille, nor the smitten look in the guy’s eyes. In fact, he had the burning desire to rip the shifter’s arms off.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. When he opened them again, they immediately went to Camille. The teal dress she was wearing shimmered like crystals, but it wasn’t nearly as radiant as her smile. From across the room, her gaze kept flicking in his direction, as if she was keeping tabs on him, too.

The refrain died away, and she headed for him. Her eyes met his, challenging and beguiling at the same time.

“I’m glad you came,” she said.

He shrugged, trying to hide his attraction as the musical intro of the next piece foretold a tango.

She raised an eyebrow. “So are you going to ask me?”

“What?”

“Don’t be so hardheaded,” she said with a laugh. “Dance with me.”

He hesitated.

“Before the song is over,” she prompted.

His feet moved toward her, his heart following her request without his mind’s permission.

They walked toward the dance floor together, and when they got to where Alex now stood, she said, “Let him hold the gun.”

It took a moment for her request to register. He was so into her that he’d completely forgotten the rifle still slung over his shoulder. Since Alex was a deputy, Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to hand him the weapon.

Then, in the center of the dance floor, despite the fact that she’d more or less dragged him out there, he assumed the lead.

~ ~ ~

Her heart sped up, thumping against her breast as he slid an arm around her and drew her to him. She stepped into his shadow, and he wheeled her around like a tree branch in a storm. In a totally improvisational dance of seduction, she circled her foot to one side and tapped it behind the other. She existed on the balls of her feet, ready to move at his direction. Her chest pressed against his, their thighs brushing—a sacred connection as his step opened and closed in an effortless glide across the floor. She reached her hand up the back of his neck and caressed his nape, resting her cheek against his.

In this moment, she was his partner, his lover…his everything. He created a space, and she entered it of her own violation, then twisted her hips left and right. It felt like they were the only two beings in the room as everything else fell away. He was walking a tightrope and taking her along with him. It was a unique communication between a vampire and a shifter, and with his command and precision, she felt worshiped and alive.

When the music ended, they both were nearly panting, their breath mingling. Nathaniel looked deeply into her eyes. “We will continue this later,” he murmured hoarsely.

Her lungs grappled for air as she inhaled a long, steadying breath. “I’d like that.”

~ ~ ~

He didn’t touch her as he escorted her off the floor. He’d done enough of that. Every part of his body was singing to know her more intimately, and yet he knew it wasn’t a good idea. His place was back in Terror; her life was here.

“Fresh air?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

They made their way past the stares of the people in this close-knit community and out into the cool February night. He vaguely heard the emcee announce that it was time to meet the Mardi Gras king and queen, Hugh and Delaney Ellingham.

“Would you like something to drink?” Nathaniel asked Camille, realizing he should’ve offered her one before they’d gone outside.

“Yes, that would be wonderful.” She fanned her face. He noticed the flush of jaguar spots glistening on her skin. She was absolutely beautiful.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, then left her there, leaning against the entrance railing.

As he was filling his second glass of punch, movement caught his eye at the end of the serving table. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who it was. His brother’s scent rushed to him on the Georgia breeze. The wheelchair inched forward as their gazes collided, full of emotions neither of them wanted to release.

Nathaniel slowly stepped toward Jake. After all these years, Nathaniel still wasn’t ready to make amends. That would mean accepting Jake’s forgiveness. No, he didn’t deserve Jake’s forgiveness.

Suddenly, a scream sliced through the air. It had sounded like it had come from outside, and his eyes widened.

Camille!

He dropped the punch glass onto the table, the red liquid spilling all over. Running—there were too many people around to risk tracing—he shoved his way through the crowd. But when he got to where he’d left her, she was gone. Only her scent remained…and that of Payton Grey.

Chapter Eight

Anger filled Nathaniel. How could he have let his guard down like that? He slammed his fist on the railing as Alex appeared and tossed the rifle to him. He caught it mid-stride as he tried to follow the scents—one clearly vampire, one delicately female. But there were too many people. Plus, the breeze alone was strong enough to dilute their odors.

Damn.

“He has Camille,” Nathaniel bit out.

“I heard her scream and figured there was trouble,” Alex said.

Jake rolled to a stop behind them. “I see you’re still in the same line of work.”

Nathaniel scowled. “How could I not be?”

“Did you see which way he took her?” Alex asked, glancing between the two vampires.

“No,” Nathaniel growled.

The crowd inside cheered and clapped, drowning out their conversation, most of the attendees not even noticing that anything was awry.

Sheriff Merrow burst out into the night. “Split up,” he ordered.

Nathaniel agreed. They would cover more ground by moving in different directions. He followed Camille’s strong, fearful scent.

“Grey doesn’t have much of a lead on us,” he called over his shoulder. “And since he’s dragging Camille along with him, he probably won’t trace.”

“So sure of yourself, aren’t you, little brother?” Jake asked after him.

“When I’m finished with this case, we’re going to talk,” Nathaniel vowed.

Jake said nothing as his brother left him behind.

When Nathaniel reached the gargoyle fountain, he spotted Grey as the vamp shoved Camille into the driver’s seat of a beautiful old Corvette and then climbed in the other side.

“Drive.” The rogue vampire’s order came to Nathaniel on the wind.

Camille fumbled as she put the car in gear and took off around the fountain. Just as she entered the straightaway of Black Cat Boulevard, he raised his rifle, sighted it, and shot the rear tire of the Corvette, praying she’d still be able to control the car as it slowed.

The vehicle immediately skidded to a stop. His heart pounded in his ears, making it difficult to hear anything, even with his heightened senses. The car door opened, and Camille barreled free from the car, running down the street toward him.

Grey slid into the driver’s seat and put the car back in motion. Despite the deflated tire, he gunned it, heading straight for Camille.

The bastard was going to run her down.

Nathaniel traced to push her out of the way, but before he reached her, she had transformed into a sleek, powerful jaguar and jumped into the air, clearing a vehicle parked along the street and landing on all fours at the doorstep of the Hallowed Bean.

He ended the trace on the sidewalk as she shifted back into her human form. Nathaniel stood there, somewhat in shock, when he saw that Camille was unharmed.

The Corvette spun in a circle then, coming to rest sideways across the street.

Nathaniel traced over to it and ripped open the driver’s door. He dragged Grey out of the car, then jerked back his fist. “Sink your teeth into this, pretty boy.” He punched the vamp in the face. He was so angry he could have killed him, right then and there. Camille could have been seriously injured or worse.

Inhaling a rugged breath, he hauled Grey’s hands behind him and secured them with handcuffs.

The sheriff and deputy ran up to them. “We heard the shot,” Merrow said. “Is everyone okay?”

Nathaniel nodded. “Yeah. I just took out a tire.”

“Nice going,” Alex said. He moved to clap Nathaniel on the shoulder but stopped, seeming to think better of the idea.

“Can you hold him until tomorrow?” Nathaniel asked Merrow. “Then I’ll take him back to Terror.”

The sheriff nodded. “Sure. We have a cell especially for vampires.”

“Good,” he said, walking away. “I need to take care of something.”

He rushed over to Camille. With her back plastered against the café window, she didn’t even turn her gaze to look at him. She stared at the car that had nearly struck her.

“Cami?” The nickname rolled from his lips without thought.

She snapped her head toward him. “Don’t. That’s what my dad used to call me.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, ignoring her comment in favor of making sure she was all right.

Her hand moved to the center of her chest. “That’s exactly how my parents died—run down by a crazy vampire.” Her voice wobbled, full of disbelief.

He didn’t quite understand what she was talking about, but he also sensed now wasn’t the time to press her about it. Her gaze turned up and met his. He could see the confusion in her eyes, hear the swish of air as she inhaled and exhaled in a struggle to calm herself.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He drew her into a hug, tugging her into his chest. At first she tensed, resisting, then she relaxed and melted into him on a sigh. After a minute or two, he asked, “Can you walk?”

She pushed off him and blinked. “Of course I can.” With a twirl of her dress, she stepped away from the window to prove it.

Her sass was back, and he fought a grin. He was never going to understand felines. “Good. Would you like to return to the ball or grab a cup of coffee?”

She smiled wickedly. “How about we go to my place and pick up the tango where we left off?”

He held out a hand for her to take. “I do so love that dance.”

~ ~ ~

Want more?

The story moves to Terror, Minnesota as it continues in Larissa Emerald’s Blood Keepers series. Watch for the next episode in FOREVER AT RISK.

Start at the beginning of

The Blood Keeper Series

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Read on for a sneak peek of

Forever At Dawn

by Larissa Emerald

Vampire leader, Connor Langley, must find another source of cobine, a vital substance his race needs to survive. He travels back in time to a place rich in the mineral with the intention of bringing it back to present day. In 1976, he falls hard for the Stephanie Davenport, a school teacher in search of her inheritance. Will he be able to leave her when he returns to his time?

Chapter One

San Francisco, Present Day

The wind coming off the Pacific created a sad, hollow whistle as it whipped upward along the stone walls of the mansion and hit the eves. Connor Langley peered out the window to sea.

“I’m traveling through the porthole this evening,” he said.

He turned to look at Gavin. Connor’s personal assistant drew himself taller and angled his gray head. “Isn’t that dangerous with the impending storm?”

“Not really.” Best not to get him worked up.

Gavin pursed his lips as if withholding a comment. The vampire no doubt knew he couldn’t dissuade Connor.

“Don’t fret. I won’t be gone more than a day our time. I am simply going to bring back the mined cobine crystal our people need.” He clenched his hands into fists and held back the growl at his lips. “To replenish the stores that were stolen.”

“I take it the artificial manufacturing hasn’t produced results.”

Connor shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.”

Over the years, vampires had led the way producing artificial diamonds, and rubies, and other precious gemstones—things humans seemed to be ecstatic over—in an effort to reproduce a synthetic cobine. But the precious substance abundant on their home planet of Cest eluded their scientists. And it was a substance his race needed to survive, much as humans needed salt. An item extremely valuable to them, not just to wear and show off but to prevent them from feeding on humans.

He began to pace the room, fists tight by his sides. A cobine deficiency in vampires meant brain swelling, coma, and acute blood loss. Such a state would produce a feeding frenzy beyond reason to compensate for the deficit. It was up to each Czar to care for his region to ensure that didn’t happen. The cobine he had procured eleven months ago should have sufficed for years, and yet the supply was critically low once again. He needed to move fast.

“Take me with you,” Gavin suggested. “I’m good with horses.”

Connor hid his surprise but could easily guess where the comment was coming from. What vampire wouldn’t desire to go back in time to a simpler existence? “I will not remain there, Gavin, no matter how much I’d like to. Nor will you. I will not desert my people.”

“It’s become an obsession, this traveling back in time,” Gavin warned.

Connor looked down at his clothes as his fangs descended. He inhaled a calming breath. “The world was so different then. The blood purer.”

“Ah. I was wrong, you’re not just obsessed… You’re addicted, and–” his brows shot upward.

Waving a hand, Connor cut him off. “Like hell.”

“Then send someone else.”

Connor strode into the massive closet, making it clear the conversation was over. He dressed in jeans, a button-down shirt, and boots. It was time to find out who’d dared steal from him. And why.

In the past, he’d always known his enemy, and death occurred daily. But today, the battle was more mental and strategic. That’s not to say there wasn’t bloodshed. It just had to be with good reason.

When Connor walked back out of the closet, Gavin was staring at his watch, seemingly deep in thought. His old friend glanced up, and Connor tried to reassure him. “When I return, I’ll increase our efforts to find another source so we aren’t dependent on a past portal anymore. Perhaps it’s time for a visit to London. And you can accompany me then.” He slung on his period topcoat. “Except for the cobine, there is nothing in that time I can’t leave.”

Gavin gave a reluctant nod. “Something happens every time you go back. I can’t explain it… I… I just feel the disengagement. It’s like a fracture.”

Yes, Connor knew what the man meant. But leaders had to stand strong and endure. He needed to help his people by doing the very best with the talents given to him.

Gavin crossed his arms over his thin chest. “You need to find the right woman to make you settle down,” he blurted out.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Well, it’s true. If you were in love, perhaps you’d stay at home.”

His servant must truly be aging to bring up the subject of mating. “That’s absurd. Besides, women are too much trouble. In all these centuries, I haven’t found my destined mate.”

“Obviously.” Gavin cleared his throat and nodded with conviction. “Or else she’d be here to stop you now. Once you meet her, the mating thrall will take care of the rest.”

Connor had heard enough. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spun on his heel and exited the room, taking the hall that led to the west end of the mansion.

In the den, he paused at the old mantle clock that rested on a pedestal table. He grabbed the small boy-with-horse figurine at its right, opened the clock case, and placed it inside, just out of range of the pendulum. Once the case was closed again, he pushed on a hidden panel door that led down into a tunnel. It opened with only the slightest creaking sound and he stepped inside.

The motion sensors noted his presence as he progressed, the lights coming on to guide him to the cavern he sought. The familiar wet, musty smell welcomed him.

At the base of a boulder, he knelt and removed the top of the largest stalagmite. The inside had been meticulously carved out to conceal the time rod. He removed the transporter piece, which resembled a long stained glass pen. He held it up to the light, pleased with the swirl of colors within, liquid energy beyond anything known to humans.

Warmth radiated through his body as he closed his fingers around it. Perhaps Gavin was right. He was addicted.

This was the connection to his past, the roots to his mother planet–the story of who his people were. Humans had named them “vampires” and the mysterious lore they’d created had not worked in his race’s favor. Oddly, now they’d become popular. Indeed, his people were immortal, but not because of being undead. Yes, they fed on blood, and traced, and avoided daylight, but humans could never know the real truth.

There were truly evil beings walking the shadows of the Earth. In comparison, vampires were the good guys.

Connor fit the tip of the rod into the appropriate hole in the stratum of the rock, the vein that was formed in 1876. He forced the end in a little harder until a light ignited within the rod, causing the energy inside to swirl faster and heat up. He braced his palm against the rock wall above his head and closed his eyes, leaning in.

Impressions of this world, bits of light and a sense of the waves crashing on the shore, streamed by in a dizzying blur, with a rumble of friction so enormous it knocked him off his feet, his consciousness fading.

~ ~ ~

He awoke to the dripping of water landing on his ear. He shivered, shook his head, pushed to his elbows, and regained his bearing. He’d had the mansion built in the early eighteen hundreds and lived in it ever since. Lifetime ownership. He snickered at the thought and smiled as he stood. It was his favorite of several homes he owned around the globe.

He took the steps two at a time as he exited the cavern. When he reached the ground floor, he checked the clock. No figurine whatsoever. Good deal.

He really didn’t want to engage the staff just yet, so he immediately traced to his office in the hotel he owned on Main Street. He deposited his coat on the coatrack. First order of business, he needed to track down the whereabouts of his mine foreman. It was a Friday, so he should be in town. Connor scribbled out a message, requesting the employee to meet with him, and went in search of an errand boy.

“It’s stuck,” a man yelled from outside, his voice wafting in through the window. Out of habit, Connor straightened his clothes. Not that anything was out of place. It was just what he did.

A few more people shouted, and Connor made his way out front to discover what the ruckus was about.

“Mornin’, Mr. Langley,” a housekeeper said as he passed. “I didn’t know you was back.”

Connor tipped the brim of his hat, shifting into the mannerisms of the day as easily as he traced.

Standing in the lobby, he looked outside. Even as people gathered on the steps in front of his hotel to take cover from the rain, he breathed in the freedom of the era. No hidden cameras, or paparazzi, or media pressure. A huge temptation.

No, he reminded himself. Get the cobine and go home.

A steady rain beat down on a hearse stuck in the mud. Perhaps he should lend a hand. He wouldn’t find this sort of action back in present time, that’s for sure. So he set aside his hat and coat, tucking the message inside the folds to keep it dry and handed it to one of the hotel staff to hold for safe keeping. He rolled up his sleeves, loosened his collar down to the second button, and stepped out into the rain.

~ ~ ~

“Take heart, Steph. I can see the hotel from here.”

Stephanie Davenport glanced sideways at her “cousin.” Eric Bronson wasn’t truly a relative but a close childhood friend who had agreed to accompany her on this cross-country adventure. At fifteen, she’d had an enormous crush on him, especially so after he’d been the first man to kiss her with tongue. The thought still made her stomach do flip-flops. But to her great disappointment, they’d only had the one encounter, and even though she’d no doubt looked at him with moon eyes every single time he’d returned home from college, he’d never kissed her again.

She sighed. The sunlight filtering through dreary, gray clouds was barely enough to highlight his golden flaxen hair and didn’t do justice to his handsome features. At twenty-eight, and six years Stephanie’s senior, Eric was a worldly man, and it showed in the way he spoke, walked, even smiled. She’d also caught the desirable way he’d glanced at some of the lovely women on their journey. She craved for a man to look upon her with such heat in his eyes. But she pushed those desires to the back of her mind. She was thankful he’d even agreed to accompany her on this journey to retrieve her inheritance.

She nodded to herself, focusing on the task at hand. It was time for her to strike out an independent path, and the money from selling her father’s assets would turn into her best recourse. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure where this escapade would lead.

A shiver of excitement mixed with unease skated down her spine.

Stephanie stomped the thick mud from her boots as she walked. She crinkled her nose, first at the muck, then at herself. She should be disgusted by her boldness. She was far from a gambler by nature. Yet here she was, after crossing the rough, untamed miles that stretched across America, tracking down a swindler named Connor Langley. The man her estranged father had empowered with her future.

A boisterous crowd lined Union Street, pulling her from her thoughts. Except for the steep, rocky hills, the scenery scarcely resembled the picture in the travel tome she clutched to her breast. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this place had a wild nature that New England didn’t possess.

She hugged the book closer, comforted by the small roll of bills she’d tucked into her bodice as it scraped her sensitive skin. She sighed. At least she had return train fare.

The coach driver had dumped them in the drizzling rain, minus their luggage, on a covered walkway at least a block away from their hotel. “The driver said he’d deliver our belongings when he could get through,” Eric shouted over the din.

She leaned closer to Eric to avoid yet another unladylike event. “There seems to be quite a commotion.”

Eric took hold of her elbow. “Let’s move on, shall we?” Angling an umbrella over them, they slipped between bystanders.

Odors–rich and heavy–of fish and oysters, wine, and baking bread, mingled with the salty wind from the Pacific, reminding her once more that they were a long way from Connecticut.

Stephanie mimicked Eric’s motions, craning her head this way and that, glancing through the clusters of people lining the muddy street. What exactly had prevented their carriage from reaching the hotel? Why the crowd?

Eric tugged her along for a few steps, and she resisted the urge to pull free. It wasn’t until they reached the elevated safety of the hotel’s covered porch–her dear departed father’s hotel, she noted with great relief because they’d finally arrived–that she discovered the attraction.

There, right in front of the hotel, smack dab in the center of the roadway and skewed sideways, was a huge black hearse with a set of four equally coal-black horses, a man built as strong as a buffalo by its side.

For an instant, she expected a villain to emerge from the darkened doorway and brand the man hammering the carriage wheel with his fist a fool. But a funeral hearse didn’t harbor villains, she immediately corrected, and when the man stretched to his full height, her heart jolted. No, this man wasn’t a fool, she thought as she tried to work her suddenly dry throat. His stance revealed pride and distinction.

“Oh my,” she finally said, astonished. “That man is half-naked!”

She shivered. He was practically shirtless, and drops of rain trickled over his wide, pale shoulders where his shirt had been torn half off of him. A smear of mud drew her attention to the well-defined muscles of his broad chest. Water mixed with the wet earth, and she watched, eyes wide, as the brown silt traveled that long, hard path to the waistband of his trousers. Farther south, rain-soaked black fabric clung to his powerful thighs, emphasizing a physique obviously familiar with hard work.

Certainly, the pictures of Hercules in her books on Greek mythology were no comparison to the living, breathing specimen, heroically laboring to raise the vehicle from the mud. Her face flushed hot. Was it sinful to watch him?

Her fellow educators at Hartford Girls’ School would undoubtedly think so.

The man turned his head, and drops of water flung from the ends of his dark hair. Stephanie frowned. It didn’t bother him in the least that he was the crowd’s entertainment. In fact, it was as if he was reveling it in.

His gaze met hers and held. Her first instinct was to turn away, but she couldn’t. Instead, she brazenly returned his gaze. Her heart thrummed in her chest. Why was he staring?

Then his brow creased and eyes narrowed, as if he recognized her and was trying to place her. But that was impossible, for this was her first—and last—visit to San Francisco. Besides, one didn’t forget such breathtaking good looks.

Stephanie tore her gaze from Hercules, scanning the spectators. “Look at all the people, Eric,” she said softly. “They remind me of an audience watching a carnival.”

“Indeed. I imagine this to be the best entertainment in their monotonous lives.”

She plucked at the high collar of her dress, assaulted by the persistent humidity and press of the crowd. “We should be going.”

“In a minute. I want to see him in action.”

Shamefully, so did she. Her pulse skipped and she nearly forgot to breathe when the handsome rescuer forced heavy boards into the muck beneath the front wheels of the hearse. He ordered the nearby men to take action. The coachman, still wearing his dripping-wet top hat, snapped a whip and urged the horses forward. Another man stepped out to assist in guiding the team.

The wood being used for leverage began to sink. The hearse tilted toward Hercules. Stephanie gasped right along with the crowd. He pressed both hands to the shiny, lacquered side of the vehicle and pushed until his arm and back muscles bulged from the effort. At her side, Eric took two steps forward, perhaps thinking to help, but several other men rushed in with the same intent. At last, the team lurched forward and sprang into motion with enough force to pull the coach free.

Relieved, Stephanie exhaled sharply. People clapped and cheered. A few rowdy men blasted ear-piercing whistles.

“For a minute there, I thought the poor man would be joining the one in the box,” Eric joked. “Good thing he’s a big fellow.”

“Yes. He is, isn’t he?” she agreed, studying the nearly unclad man. He had the elemental rawness of a man in close touch with nature, an intrinsic wildness that made her nervous, even frightened. She imagined him working the docks, cutting timber, or hefting masonry blocks. Whatever his occupation, his strength had served him well today.

A man pumped the rescuer’s hand. “Good work, Mr. Langley.”

Langley? She gasped and shook her head. He can’t be…

Yet, another man called out his name. Good Heavens, Hercules wasn’t a dockworker. The gorgeous man with muscles like she’d never seen before was her father’s no-good, cheating partner.

Mud splashed about him with each step he took as Mr. Langley moved in her direction. Panic gripped her. She had no wish to greet the man disheveled as he was–no desire to be closer to his coarse manliness. Or maybe her desire was the problem.

The impulse to flee tore at her but a lifetime of fighting her own battles had taught her the necessity for supreme calm. “Eric, let’s go inside and secure our room,” she urged.

Eric held out his elbow to escort her when a tall fellow, with a small, scruffy dog tucked beneath one arm, burst between them, pushing them both off-balance. Stephanie tried to catch herself as momentum propelled her down the steps. The muck loomed in front of her. No! The cry caught in her throat just before she closed her eyes.

Her book flew from her hands and a jarring wrench vibrated through her when she hit something solid, immovable. But instead of landing in slimy mud, her hands descended on firm, slick skin, and her cheek rested against warm, wet smoothness. The scent of musky masculinity filled her nostrils. Unsure of her own senses, she moved her fingers up and down slowly, testing the texture. Hard muscles flexed beneath her palm, and her fingers ran over the edges of a torn, soaked shirt. She groaned in recognition. Opening her eyes, she beheld mud-splattered flesh.

Mr. Connor Langley.

Shock held her still. For an instant, a shameless part of her acknowledged that he felt wonderful, protective, and this seemed a good place to rest until her world settled. Then she returned to reality, recalling who it was she rested upon. She struggled to push away from him.

“Are you injured?”

His quiet baritone voice slipped through her defenses, touching a tender place in her heart. One strong arm encircled her waist, so close that she doubted even the rainwater could trickle between them. Her gaze traveled unbidden over muscular planes up to a square jaw and angular cheekbones until she met his cobalt-blue eyes.

He studied her with concerned intensity, two deep lines furrowing between his eyes. Though she knew he was only worried about her safety, Stephanie couldn’t get past the raw sensuality of being so near him, or the strange melting sensation that settled low in her abdomen.

Finally, she recalled his question. “No… No, I’m fine,” she whispered. Then, finding her customary sturdier voice, she added, “if you would please let go of me.”

He released her, and she recoiled from him like a person jumping away from a snake. She staggered backward until her heel hit the edge of the steps. Giving her hands a shake, she forced them into the folds of her dress and cleared her throat.

But all the while she simply wanted to slip right back into those strong arms.

~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading The Vampire Bounty Hunter’s Unexpected Catch. If you enjoyed this story and want to stay up-to-date on my next book, giveaways, and release dates then sign up for my newsletter. (I promise your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.)

NEWSLETTER

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my fabulous team of professionals:

Cover design: Alchemy Book Covers

Interior formatting: Author E.M.S.

Editor: Danielle Poiesz, Double Vision Editorial

About the Author

Larissa Emerald has always had a powerful creative streak. Whether it’s altering sewing patterns, making minor changes to recipes, or frequently rearranging her home furnishings, she relishes those little walks on the wild side to offset her otherwise quite ordinary life. Her eclectic taste in books covers numerous genres, and she writes sexy contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and futuristic romantic thrillers. But no matter the genre or time period, she likes to put strong women in dire situations where they find the men who will adore them beyond reason and give up everything for true love.

Larissa is happy to connect with her readers. Stop by and say hello on her Website, Facebook, or Twitter, or send her an e-mail at larissaemerald@gmail.com.