Not much Dominion action in this one but we are introduced to the OtherKin Sidhe via the heroine, Tiya. Tiya walked in on her family being ripped apart by vampires. She killed some but some got away and she is hunting them for revenge. In the process she comes across Charlie [a continuing character from books 1 and 2 who has had NO good luck with any of his love interests so far:] and injures him for getting in the way.
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A small distance away a diminutive blonde wearing glasses, a burgundy sweater and pair of baggy cargo pants perused the books in the philosophy section. Petite, delicate, brainy-looking, those were all terms he would use to describe her. That one seemed all encompassing. He looked away from her, berating himself for even contemplating the seduction of an unmarked human female. An entire household of Demi females willing to fuck him whenever, wherever and however he wanted awaited him this evening…awaited him every evening.
Charlie gave his head a sharp shake. Like many Vampir, sometimes he craved the blood of a human. When something was forbidden, it made it more attractive. Not that he was looking for anything beyond a one-night stand and a little blood at this point.
Still, he was bored and the woman was compelling. He watched as she selected a thick tome from the shelf, cracked it and scanned the first page. Maybe she was a university student. A wave of violet scent wafted toward him and he inhaled it like it was a drug. The scent seemed almost intoxicating. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid, revealing a long swanlike neck that featured the fair skin of the naturally light-haired. If he looked closely enough, he could see the fine blue veins in her throat.
The sacyr, the blood-hunger of the Embraced, flickered to life in his stomach. Uneasily, he shifted against the wall. The woman replaced the tome and tilted her head to the side as she examined the book spines, showcasing that wonderful expanse of neck that he wanted to taste. Charlie cleared his throat and looked away. He should be able to control the sacyr better than this. Where the hell was Vincent anyway? Earlier, Evelyn had mentioned she wanted a new mystery novel that had just released, so here was Vincent, shopping for it.
Vincent was a fairly young Vampir. Despite his youth, Vincent had a lot of power. That power had not gone unnoticed by Anlon. Anlon wanted Vincent to earn a place in the top ranks of his Vampir, not automatically get it because he was exceptionally strong. Anlon thought Vincent needed to mature into the responsibility of taking a high position with the territory, and Charlie agreed. Charlie watched the situation in this vampiric territory with interest, but he had no ambitions here himself. Here, Charlie was only a guest and he was content to leave it so.
His place was in a territory south of here, with a keeper named Gabriel Letourneau. Something bad had happened down there and Charlie had left without word to anyone. Away from Gabriel and his new love, Fate Harding. The term immortal was such a misnomer. The immortal could live forever, yes, but they could also die if the right weapon was used.
Charlie shuddered against the unwelcome memories of that night. Black eyes stared at him from the visage of a twenty-five-year-old man, though Vincent was actually closer to fifty. His glossy hair, as coal black as his eyes, brushed the collar of his black leather jacket. Vincent shrugged. He bet her blood would be so sweet. The sacyr kicked up a notch and Charlie forced it back down. He turned away.
Yes, leaving the store and this unnaturally tempting woman was the best option. Charlie turned up the collar of his black leather duster and walked down the street with Vincent. Griffin House was about five blocks down Grand Avenue and one block over on Summit. Summit Avenue was an older, elegant part of St. Huge, historical well-taken care of homes lined the wide street along with towering one hundred-year-old oaks.
The lawns were well-kept, manicured by fussy owners who employed professionals to keep things just so. Vincent turned to him and showed him the bag. He grinned. Vincent reminded him of an eager puppy at times. Though Charlie knew he, too, had been the same way at one time. Years and experience had matured Charlie into a shadow of his former self.
The same would happen to Vincent in time. Charlie watched the shopkeepers closing up for the night as they progressed down the street in companionable silence. It took me a long time to grow into my powers, but once I did I was very strong. Still, it took many years and a lot of proving myself before Gabriel learned to trust me. Adam had been giving Gabriel some problems when Charlie left. Adam was an undisciplined Vampir, always getting into trouble. Adam was a perfect product of his time—wild, always out for the thrill.
Always looking for the next new thing around the corner. That would have left Gabriel with few truly trusted Vampir around him.
Charlie cringed inwardly, and then stopped himself. He was not going to concern himself with what was going on down there. Charlie had his own issues to deal with right now, and Gabriel was strong enough to take care of his own shit. They turned down a residential alley that linked Grand Avenue to Summit. About halfway down the alley, the clang of metal trash cans sounded behind them. The scent of violet. The scent of violet filled the night air right before Vincent went down.
The blur disappeared. What the…? He stood up and turned in a hard circle, ready to fight whoever it was, but all he saw were garages, chain link fences and trash cans. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Out of nowhere came the blur. What the hell was faster than a Vampir? His stomach clenched in agony. Not much could harm the Embraced, but whatever the blur had done to him, it had harmed.
He rolled to the side for a moment, one palm on the pavement. Pebbles bit into his palm. He held his stomach with his other hand and groaned. His whole body screamed in pain. Something hot and wet touched his forearm and he pulled it away to see his white shirt stained dark with his own blood. Piercing physical anguish consumed him. It bowed his spine and made him squeeze his eyes shut.
Had she hit him with a hawthorn stake? Movement in front of him caught his attention. He looked up and saw the bookstore blonde staring down at him. Her eyes were cold now, the cold gray of a winter storm or of gunmetal.
I have no quarrel with you. English, maybe? The woman moved over Vincent, a hawthorn stake loose in her hand. She knelt. They spoke in low tones for a few moments.
Charlie was too injured to pitch his hearing and listen in. Every part of his body felt like it was slowly dying and he felt so unbelievably bad that he almost wished for it. His head pounded with the rush of blood. His legs and arms were growing cold. Pain lanced through his stomach as though someone was continually stabbing him. He was prey for any animal that came along right now.
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Blood of an Angel