Chapter One
He’d found her.
At last.
Again .
As if they sensed something dark and extraordinary about him, the costumed party guests separated like water around a ship, allowing Raphael to pass. He barely noticed. All his senses honed in on her evocative scent.
His smile, he knew, would be faintly triumphant as he traced the unique fragrance of night-blooming flowers and hot female flesh that had led him here, to the pulsing heart of New Orleans. For once, he didn’t care about showing his fangs or unnatural pallor. The simpletons around him would assume it was only part of a Mardi Gras costume. Foolish mortals. They wouldn’t know he was the genuine article until the light in their eyes faded away.
Tonight was not merely a hunt. Tonight was critical to the survival of his kind. The perfume of the woman’s blood filled his senses. Despite the hundreds of guests, Raphael separated the light throb of her particular heartbeat from the others. It pulsed, warm and rich, calling to his inner thirst like nothing he had experienced since his turning. His mouth watered, venom flowed and his fangs grew longer in anticipation.
Two days ago her scent had been a mere whisper, a seductive wisp that drifted in on the wind and coiled about his senses. But as the hours slid by, it changed, demanding all his attention, bringing him to her. She drew him, even though he had yet to catch sight of her. He didn’t need to see her to know who she was. Put him in a room filled with a thousand women, and her scent alone would identify her as his quarry.
The sacrifice. Their salvation.
Have you found her yet? The voice of the eldest vampire Janus, the father of them all, intruded into his mind. Urgent. Worried.
Soon.
Be quick. It is nearly time.
I know, I know. I’ll have her there by midnight. I always have.
Raphael took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, though it was purely an exercise to calm his mind. He had long since ceased to need his lungs, and the strength in his hands could easily crush a cannon ball.
Her scent grew stronger, filling his nostrils with her enticing heady bouquet, a mixture of jasmine and spiced wine. A taste he hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever, yet the memory of the flavor tantalized his tongue. The crowd shifted, exposing a lithe brunette with a stunning profile and lush mouth. Her chocolate-colored hair cascaded loose and free around her creamy shoulders and bare back. Dressed as a Regency-era courtesan in black silk, she captured his attention and that of every man in sight. Laughing, she turned, pale blue eyes sparkling. She was so alive, so vibrant, the very sight of her made his chest ache.
If he still had a beating heart, it would have stopped dead at the sight of her. As it was, a shot of heat that owed nothing to blood flow and everything to raw need, coursed through his body. Only once in six thousand years had he been so affected, and it had cost him dearly. For a thousand years he had mourned that particular woman. Death would have been far easier than living on knowing what he had done.
He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again.
For his kind.
For himself.
She was being watched. Evaline St. Croix sensed the gaze skim down her back like a heated, physical caress. Casually glancing around at her fellow party guests laughing and dancing around her, she pinpointed the source. A stranger, unlike anyone in her acquaintance. Tall and lean, his eyes covered by a black demi-mask, he moved with a quiet strength and sure grace. His gaze was dark and intense, his thick coffee-colored hair, threaded with strands of gold, brushed the collar of an expensive tuxedo.
Laurie, one of her coworkers at the accounting firm, eyed the stranger, her gaze assessing and hot. “Be still my beating heart.” She sounded as breathless as Eva felt. “Please tell me you know Tall, Dark and Dangerous over there. ”
No. Yes. She tried not to stare, but everything in Eva wanted to turn
He’d found her.
At last.
Again .
As if they sensed something dark and extraordinary about him, the costumed party guests separated like water around a ship, allowing Raphael to pass. He barely noticed. All his senses honed in on her evocative scent.
His smile, he knew, would be faintly triumphant as he traced the unique fragrance of night-blooming flowers and hot female flesh that had led him here, to the pulsing heart of New Orleans. For once, he didn’t care about showing his fangs or unnatural pallor. The simpletons around him would assume it was only part of a Mardi Gras costume. Foolish mortals. They wouldn’t know he was the genuine article until the light in their eyes faded away.
Tonight was not merely a hunt. Tonight was critical to the survival of his kind. The perfume of the woman’s blood filled his senses. Despite the hundreds of guests, Raphael separated the light throb of her particular heartbeat from the others. It pulsed, warm and rich, calling to his inner thirst like nothing he had experienced since his turning. His mouth watered, venom flowed and his fangs grew longer in anticipation.
Two days ago her scent had been a mere whisper, a seductive wisp that drifted in on the wind and coiled about his senses. But as the hours slid by, it changed, demanding all his attention, bringing him to her. She drew him, even though he had yet to catch sight of her. He didn’t need to see her to know who she was. Put him in a room filled with a thousand women, and her scent alone would identify her as his quarry.
The sacrifice. Their salvation.
Have you found her yet? The voice of the eldest vampire Janus, the father of them all, intruded into his mind. Urgent. Worried.
Soon.
Be quick. It is nearly time.
I know, I know. I’ll have her there by midnight. I always have.
Raphael took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, though it was purely an exercise to calm his mind. He had long since ceased to need his lungs, and the strength in his hands could easily crush a cannon ball.
Her scent grew stronger, filling his nostrils with her enticing heady bouquet, a mixture of jasmine and spiced wine. A taste he hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever, yet the memory of the flavor tantalized his tongue. The crowd shifted, exposing a lithe brunette with a stunning profile and lush mouth. Her chocolate-colored hair cascaded loose and free around her creamy shoulders and bare back. Dressed as a Regency-era courtesan in black silk, she captured his attention and that of every man in sight. Laughing, she turned, pale blue eyes sparkling. She was so alive, so vibrant, the very sight of her made his chest ache.
If he still had a beating heart, it would have stopped dead at the sight of her. As it was, a shot of heat that owed nothing to blood flow and everything to raw need, coursed through his body. Only once in six thousand years had he been so affected, and it had cost him dearly. For a thousand years he had mourned that particular woman. Death would have been far easier than living on knowing what he had done.
He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again.
For his kind.
For himself.
She was being watched. Evaline St. Croix sensed the gaze skim down her back like a heated, physical caress. Casually glancing around at her fellow party guests laughing and dancing around her, she pinpointed the source. A stranger, unlike anyone in her acquaintance. Tall and lean, his eyes covered by a black demi-mask, he moved with a quiet strength and sure grace. His gaze was dark and intense, his thick coffee-colored hair, threaded with strands of gold, brushed the collar of an expensive tuxedo.
Laurie, one of her coworkers at the accounting firm, eyed the stranger, her gaze assessing and hot. “Be still my beating heart.” She sounded as breathless as Eva felt. “Please tell me you know Tall, Dark and Dangerous over there. ”
No. Yes. She tried not to stare, but everything in Eva wanted to turn
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