By MARIE TREANOR
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A child is born...into the final showdown of Vampire and Hunter
The face of a killer, the heart of a lost child… Konrad once led the legendary first team of Hungarian vampire hunters. Now, refusing to ally with the undead, he goes his own way, slaughtering vampires across the length and breadth of Europe.
The dying thoughts of one such vampire send Konrad to Britain in search of a dangerous instrument that might be just what he needs in his obsessive war with undead overlord Saloman – a war he’s determined to win at any cost. The only being who can lead him to the instrument and its current, evil possessor, is sexy, mysterious, young Glaswegian vampire Maggie, who holds herself aloof from her own kind.
Maggie sees much more than Konrad’s anger and cruelty. She makes it her mission to reach beyond the horrors of his past and find the man he should have been. Difficult, when he threatens her heart as well as everything she believes in; and when her whole being clamors for his body and his blood.
While journalists circle, about to break the news of vampire existence on mainstream television, Elizabeth Silk labors to give birth to Saloman’s daughter, and Maggie plays a dangerous game that risks everyone for her belief in one troubled man.
“Tramp broke his leg once falling through that hole,” she observed.
“Are his bones still here?”
“No; he took them with him when he left. Squeamish for a hunter, aren’t you?”
Konrad sat on the table and dangled his legs over the edge while he took in her candlelit lair. It was surprisingly comfortable. And clean. Lots of fabric and color. Dark, rather good wooden furniture. A turn-of-the-century dressing table arrayed with hairbrushes and bottles, a wardrobe and full-length mirror, a desk with a leather-bound notebook and several pens. A bed made up in one corner with lace pillows and bright cushions. Did she bring her victims back here to feed in comfort? The idea bothered him. No wonder she’d said he was squeamish.
“Never been called that before,” he said casually, bringing his attention back to her face. “Did you know Victor?”
“He had some connection to Glasgow,” Konrad lied. “You’re an unusual vampire with unlikely friends. I wondered if his connection was you.”
“There are several vampires in this city. Do I have—did I have something in common with this Victor?”
“Another vampire called Georges,” Konrad said.
He slid off the table and strolled toward her. She still smelled good, the same dark, seductive perfume as last night, overwhelmingly feminine. With some effort, he focused on her expression. Her sultry eyes were impenetrable, but this time there was no noticeable reaction that he could see. She was ready now for anything he threw at her.
He came to a halt so close he was almost touching her. It was a good way to get to vampires, who didn’t care to be close to hunters, and he felt her tension as if it was his own. But then, his own was considerable too. It had to be to resist the urge to touch her. She’d be able to hear the beating of his heart, probably knew what effect her body had on him. He used that, crowding her, turning it into the kind of threat he’d never have used against a human woman. A vampire didn’t deserve that respect.
Her head tilted to meet his deliberately harsh gaze. It may have been a struggle, but she achieved a hint of sardonic amusement in her gorgeous green eyes.
Konrad stirred. “Georges is in possession of an instrument stolen from hunters.”
“He plays the fiddle?” she guessed flippantly. Her gaze dropped to the stake he still held ready to use, but unlike most, she still didn’t back off.
Konrad smiled. “You have heard of it.”
Maggie shrugged. The movement brushed her arm against his sleeve. He wondered how her skin would feel against his. The brief, electric touch of her wrist last night had only been enough to arouse his curiosity. Was it soft, like a real woman’s, or just cold and dead? It didn’t look dead. It hadn’t felt dead last night. Instead, it seemed to glow, like the rest of her.
With the blood of her victims, he reminded himself harshly.
She said, “I hear a lot of things that make no sense. Like I said, I don’t gossip.”
“Did you hear where Georges or this instrument is? Or what they plan to use it for?”
“I know they’re not here in Glasgow.” She tilted her head back farther, the familiar gesture of a vampire insisting she wasn’t afraid. She was. He could almost smell it. He’d got to her all right, although whether with his too-close presence or his questions, it was impossible to tell.
Her neck was beautiful: long, slender, elegant, like a ballet dancer’s. He wanted to wrap his fingers around it, trace the complicated path of her delicate veins. He stirred, just to upset her, to feel her against his jacket again.
“And how, exactly, do you know that?” he asked softly.
“I’m a vampire. I’m good at knowing where people aren’t.”
“Would you help me find this instrument?”
Her eyes widened. She had no breath to feel on his face, and yet he almost imagined he could. The tiny hairs on his skin stood up in awareness. She swung away from him, and his breath spilled out in a rush of relief and disappointment. She sat down on a frayed, once-opulent armchair. She crossed her shapely legs, and even at this distance, his blood surged to his already growing erection.
“Now why,” she wondered, “would you ask me that? You don’t like me; you don’t trust me. You’re as liable to kill me as to let me live, and you really don’t want my help with anything. But for the record, no, I won’t.”
Konrad curled his lip. “Is that why John likes you? Because you pretend to be so straight talking?”
Maggie picked up a packet of cigarettes from the arm of the chair. “You really have forgotten, haven’t you? You don’t need a reason to like someone.”
If you haven't already read the first two books in the series, they're also available as ebooks, only $2.99!
Blood Guilt: Natural enemies, deadly attraction...
Blood of Angels: Obsession... a wounded hunter, a damaged vampire
A child is born...of vampire
Blood Hunters 3, Ebook Out Now