Microsoft Word - Blood and Sex from CE.rtf

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Blood & Sex

Volume III: Blane

A Ravenous Romance™ Fantastica™ Original Publication

Angela Cameron

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A Ravenous Romance™ Fantastica™ Original Publication

www.ravenousromance.com

Copyright © 2009 by Angela Cameron

Ravenous Romance™

100 Cummings Center

Suite 123A

Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-040-4

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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To Doc,

my real life alpha.

I also want to give a BIG THANKS to Aunt Furry,

Sherry Rockwell, for being such a kick-ass heroine herself.

The Rockwell Mountain crew for giving me much needed

breaks and inspiration while working on this series.

Torie Cody, thank you for letting me borrow your beautiful name yet again.

To Ox, Jane Kohut-Bartels, Brady Sutton, and the

Not Dead Yet writing team.

And to the readers who make writing this series so much fun!

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Chapter One

Christiana stepped into the immaculate foyer of the mansion owned by Michael, the new
vampiro
leader of Collins Bay. It had been years since she’d seen him. Her work for Khalil, their leader and her
creatore
, kept her too busy to make social calls, but even in South Africa, she’d heard about the overthrowing of Castillo, Michael’s former
padrone
. She wasn’t keen on seeing anyone die, but she was glad to see that particularly twisted
vampiro
go. Unless he’d changed, which wasn’t likely, Michael would be a much more suitable
padrone
.

She glanced at Jonas, the uniquely pale vampire who moved past her carrying the two Louis Vuitton suitcases into which she’d managed to pack most of her things. In all her years, she’d never seen anyone like him. The white hair and ancient tattoos on his face and neck were too like the ancient Viking warriors of his human line, and the dark, hollow eyes made him look as sinister as the reputation that preceded him. To top it off, there was no emotional feedback from him. Christiana’s power allowed her to feel the emotions of others. A few could block her, those who didn’t know what they felt could confuse her, but from Jonas, there was nothing but static, like a television between channels.

When he put the bags on the floor and glanced up, she smiled at him. “Thank you again for driving me up from the airport. I really could have stayed in the jet.”

“It’s too dangerous to stay there during the day and there’s more room here than we’ll ever need.” Jonas turned his attention toward a room at the end of the foyer that leaked digital noise. It sounded like someone was playing a video game. “Blane!” his voice echoed through the house.

A hulk of a vampire skin glanced around the corner. His skin was a little too tanned for

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him to have been full Caucasian as a human. His green-tipped black hair was a little too long, shaggy enough to fall around his face. He was sexy in a bad-boy sort of way.

Jonas motioned toward the bags. “Blane, carry these up to her room.”

He glanced from her to the bags, and then disappeared again. His voice boomed from the other room. “I’m busy, J.”

“Blane.” Jonas’s voice was harder this time and left no room for negotiation. It was an order, a threat, and a promise all in one word.

There was a long huff in the other room before the
vampiro
appeared in the hallway. This close, he was even larger than he’d initially looked. Blane’s arms were wrapped with thick muscle that pulled his T-shirt tight over his shoulders when he moved. When he bent forward near the luggage, the pistols in his shoulder holsters drew her attention. Without a doubt, he was a member of the defensive portion of Michael’s
cosca.

Blane grabbed the bags, his muscled arms flexing, and headed up the staircase without a word. She didn’t need to hear his heavy steps to know how agitated he was. She could feel it radiating from him. He was angry, probably for having to help her, but there was something else.

Something below it that felt heavy and sharp in her mind. Distrust.

Christiana followed him up the stairs, down a hallway, and into a large bedroom. It was plush and decorated in shades of cream and sage that gave it an airy sort of feel. The huge bed with its billowy duvet and matching throw pillows added to the effect. Blane looked odd in such a feminine environment.

She walked to the bed and ran her hand over the soft fabric as he put her bags at the foot.

“It’s marvelous.” She watched him from the corner of her eye. “Thank you for bringing the bags.

And for being so welcoming.”

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Blane’s emotion shifted. The distrust became the dominant feeling as he stood tall in front of her, folding his arms over his chest. His face was casual. Too casual for the negative attitude rolling off him.

Her attempt to disarm him hadn’t worked. Instead, the remark cemented his feelings.

Christiana smiled and tried for a sincere tactic. “Thank you for bringing up the bags,” she repeated.

He nodded and let an awkward silence pass before he said, “So, you’re Khalil’s kid.”

That wasn’t exactly how she’d put it, but—“Yes.”

“Why did they send you to work with Elena?”

As if it were any of his business. “I help all of the
neonato
.” It was true; she did help all of the new vampire to control their urges until they were strong enough to do it themselves.

Blane narrowed his eyes. “How old are you?”

He was getting too personal. “Old enough. Why?”

“You didn’t come when I was changed.”

“I’ve only been doing this for the last decade or so.”

“After the problems with the succubus, then.”

Smart guy.
“I suppose so. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“So, you’re a spy for Khalil.”

Christiana fought back the urge to deny it. No one had ever put together the timing between the start of her services to the new vampires and the effort to rid the world of the out-of-control succubi. It was better that they hadn’t, too. But Blane broke that record. He’d caught on to her position as one of the unpopular spotters, those who pinpointed the succubi in order to contain them.

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