SHE HAS A BODY MADE FOR TEMPTATION...
AND A KISS TO DIE FOR.The war between otherworlders and humans changed Earth beyond recognition. It also saved Bride McKells's life. Before, the gorgeous vampire was a target for every fanatic with a stake and a crucifix. Now, she's free to roam the streets -- and desperate to find others of her kind. One man claims to have the answers she seeks. Devyn, King of the Targons, is a warrior and a womanizer, and he makes no secret of how much he wants Bride -- and how dangerous he could be to her in every way.
An avid collector of women, Devyn easily seduces human and otherworlder alike. Until now. Not only does Bride resist him, but she leaves Devyn feeling something entirely new...a bone-deep need bordering on obsession. Her blood is the key to curing a vicious alien disease, but helping Bride uncover her origins will compel her to choose between electrifying passion and a destiny that could tear her from Devyn's side forever.CHAPTER 1
Bride McKells meandered along the crowded street in the pulsing heart of New Chicago, moonlight and multihued shop lights blending together to create a sparkling canvas of dream and shadow. Chaos and calm. Red brick buildings stretched at her sides, each fairly new, no clear, breakable glass or blink-and-it's-inflames wood in sight. A shame. She loved peeking into shops and imagining owning whatever was being sold just as much as she loved the smell of pine.
Neither of which she would be enjoying anytime soon. Windows were now made of dark "shield armor," and wood was scarce.
After the human-alien war, everything had had to be rebuilt for strength and durability, even while resources had been limited, the world a shell of its former self. Good-bye extraneous use of pretty glass and sweetly fragranced timber. Now, almost eighty years later -- eighty years in which Bride had barely aged -- everything was comprised of unattractive, dirt-scented stone.
Not a bad smell, but when paired with the reeking public...Ugh. Every day it worsened. Perfumes and body odor, flowery laundry soaps and car exhaust. And food. Oh, God, the food, the spices. Her too-sensitive nose wrinkled in distaste. McBean burgers, fried chicken, and the ever-popular syn-milk...the list could go on and on.Mind on the task at hand, or you'll puke.Already bile rose in her throat, burning.
Deep breath in, hold...hold...deep breath out. Men and women, both human and nonhuman, bustled in every direction, some in a mad rush to reach their destination, some as unhurried as her. Only difference was, they were shopping for clothes and shoes. Bride was looking for her next meal: warm blood from a live, jugular tap.
Unfortunately, tonight's buffet was lacking. As usual. All those smells...Back to that already, are we?The bile threatened to spill over.
She supposed, to a human, finding a tasty meal among this stretch would be the equivalent of picking between oversalted pasta, the charred nibblets left in the bottom of an oven, or stale toast seasoned with week-old mayonnaise. Again, ugh. But hungry as she was, weak as she was becoming, she needed to feed. Soon. No matter how crappy the buffet.
Lately, though, she couldn't eat indiscriminately without severe consequences. Most blood -- human or otherworlder, it didn't matter -- now left her writhing in a dirty alley, vomiting and moaning in pain for hours. Why, she didn't know. She only knew it had started about a month ago and had yet to abate.
If she'd known another vampire, she would've asked what was going on. But did she know another vampire?Nooo.Except for movies and books, she'd never even seen another of her kind.
She hated --hated!-- not understanding her own body.
Just one bloodsucker. That's all I need.Were they dead? Was she the last? Her earliest memories were of herself, alone, always alone, walking the streets of N
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