Vampire politics are the worst!
Stuck in a city she doesn’t know and surrounded by enemies, Dahlia Sabin is thrust into the middle of a vampire conclave. Every Vampire Liege from across the country has descended upon New Orleans for what everyone knows is a trap.
When an ancient relic of power turns up missing and a high-ranking vampire is murdered, Dahlia is forced into a world of vampire power plays and dark magics in order to save her friend.
Dahlia, Patrick, and Dean must use everything in their arsenal to turn the tide of revolution, but turning enemies into allies is more difficult and dangerous than any of them knew.
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Excerpt
“When was the last time a gathering of this type happened?” I asked Patrick, watching the muscles ripple beneath his alabaster skin, still marred by the scars caused by silver spikes when he’d been tortured in Faerie. I was getting used to them, almost not even seeing them anymore but when I did notice, a pang of guilt always twisted my stomach into knots. It wasn’t my fault, but I hadn’t saved him in time to stop it. For that, I would never forgive myself.
“Never.”
“Well, hell,” I snorted. “That can’t be good.”
“You said it,” Dean added, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.
“So, what’s our plan?” I asked, feeling the endorphins wearing off and the edge of anxiety making my blood pressure rise.
“Stay alive,” Dean snorted.
“We must demonstrate our power, our self-reliance, and resources to the Territorial Lieges. We must also show our superiority over the Lebensblut board. We must give the Territorial Lieges a reason to side with us or this entire endeavor will be fruitless. A rebellion of sorts is in order and this conclave is our best chance to gain support,” Patrick said, his voice harsh but firm. A sexy, gruff tone I recognized from that night in Crimson when he’d shoved me up against a wall, not knowing if he was going to kill me or kiss me. He’d kissed me and it had been one hell of a kiss.
“What you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hide who and what I am . . .”
“No, baby, no hiding this time,” Dean grumbled.
“Correct. No hiding. We want them to fear us. We want each of them to weigh their options and find Konyam and the board lacking.” Patrick brushed a strand of my long, blond hair from my face. His cool fingers brushed across my forehead and I shivered in the humid New Orleans air.
“Isidro will be there. We should have killed him when we had the chance,” I snapped. The board vampire had fled after their Necromancer had failed and I’d had to kill his progeny. I’d wanted to kill Isidro then but Patrick had been right. Killing the centuries old vampire in our territory would’ve brought the wrath of the Lebensblut board down on us. As much as I regretted Nova’s death, I’d had no choice after he’d betrayed us and fed information, no matter how innocently, to Isidro Grimaldi. I had too many people depending on me to leave a traitor alive. I’d also had to let the Lebensblut board and Isidro know that they couldn’t intimidate us and that I was not weak. Nova’s death accomplished all of this, no matter how much I regretted it.
Too often, I was still considered human and not worth notice. I’d had to be meaner, more ruthless, and deadlier than anyone else since I began this journey so many years ago. Now, it was who and what I was. I’d become the monster I’d wanted them to believe me to be. I couldn’t say I was sad about that either. It saved the lives of the people I loved.
“Yes, Isidro will indeed make an appearance or two. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to demonstrate his superior intellect or remind us of our place. Especially after our last encounter with him.” Patrick angled his arms behind his head and propped himself up against the headboard. Without thought, I scanned the beautiful line of his body and my mouth watered with the remembered taste of his skin on my tongue. “All the Territorial Lieges and the Board will be there. They had no choice but to attend. Konyam threatened violence and destruction otherwise.”
“So watch our backs,” I said.
“Yep,” Dean replied.
“Use bloodshed strategically. Never hesitate if you think it’s worth your while or will further our cause,” Patrick added
“Message received. Blood is good.”
“Nice, Pat. There’ll be blood in the streets if you encourage her,” Dean teased.
“She hasn’t killed anything in months, not since Nova. I don’t want her to lose her touch.” Patrick smiled.
I giggled, rolling over to kiss him on the cheek. When I’d first met him, Patrick had never made a joke. Our lives were too complicated, too dangerous, and too fraught with plots for jokes. He was finding his way back to a life with us, where he could relax and be the man he had been almost a century ago. The man before vampire politics and death had consumed him. I liked this new Patrick.
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