Destined for an Early Grave

Bones snorted. “Welcome to the way the rest of us live.”

Spade finished digging out the last of the silver from Bones and sat back with a grunt. “Blimey, Crispin, I hope never to do that again.”

Bones let out another snort. “I quite agree, mate.”

“Can we get out of here?” Now that Bones no longer had silver inside, poisoning him, I figured it was a good time to leave. Gregor’s allies were still giving us very hostile looks, though the Guardians’ presence—and Bones’s allies—kept them from acting. Still, no need to press our luck. Between Bones and me, we’d probably run through all our nine lives that night.

“Excellent idea, luv,” Bones said, rising. “Where do you want to go?”

An ironic laugh escaped me. “Anywhere but Paris, Bones. Anywhere but there.”

Dear Readers,

I’m so excited to introduce an excerpt from the first “spin-off” novel of the Night Huntress series, First Drop of Crimson.

After her husband’s murder, Denise wants to leave all things paranormal behind, but thanks to an ancestor who made a pact with a demon and then ran off, she’s forced back into the vampire world. Spade, a.k.a. Charles, is the powerful Master vampire Denise turns to for help trying to find her demon-dodging relative. If she doesn’t succeed, the demonic essence she’s been branded with will be permanent. After he lost the woman he loved to a mortal death, Spade has no intention of caring for a human again, especially one who wants nothing more than to return to a normal life. But as the demon brands gain strength inside Denise, she’s unable to suppress her attraction for Spade, and his cool detachment toward humans is put to the test.

So turn the page for your first look at this exciting new chapter in the Night Huntress world.

Jeaniene Frost

YOU’RE SAYING THE MAN JUST…DISAPPEARED?

The police officer couldn’t quite keep the disbelief out of his tone. Denise fought the urge to slap him. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She’d already had to call her family and tell them this unthinkable news about Paul, grieved with them as they arrived at the hospital, then gave her report to the police. The one they seemed to have such trouble believing.

“As I said, when I looked up, the killer was gone.”

“No one at the bar saw anyone out there, ma’am,” the officer said for the third time.

Denise’s temper snapped. “That’s because they were inside when we were attacked. Look, the guy choked my cousin. Doesn’t Paul have bruises around his neck?”

The officer glanced away. “No, ma’am. The medical examiner hasn’t looked at him yet, but the paramedics didn’t see any signs of strangulation. They did say they found evidence of cardiac arrest…”

“He’s only twenty-five years old!” Denise burst out, ice sliding up her spine. Paul was dead—of an apparent heart attack. Just like Amber and Aunt Rose. Denise knew she hadn’t imagined the man who’d been immune to both pepper spray and silver nitrate. The one who’d disappeared in a blink—and the big dog that had come out of nowhere.

Of course, she could relay none of this to the officer. He already looked at her like she was teetering on the crazy end of distraught. It hadn’t escaped Denise’s notice that when she’d been treated for pepper spray, her blood had also been taken, presumably to check her alcohol level. She’d already been asked multiple times how much she’d drank before leaving the bar. It was clear nothing she said, even leaving out mention of the supernatural, would be taken seriously if the medical examiner ruled that Paul had died of a heart attack.

Well, she knew people who’d believe her enough to investigate, but none of them was in this city, let alone this room.

“Can I go home now?” Denise asked.

A flash of relief crossed the officer’s face. It only made Denise want to smack him more. “Sure. I can arrange for a squad car to take you.”

“I’ll call a cab.”

He stood, bobbing his head. “Here’s my card if you remember anything else.”

Denise took it only because wadding it up and throwing it at him would look questionable. “Thank you.”

She waited until she was inside her house before she made the call. No need to have the taxi driver talk about how his latest fare had babbled on about a murder by a man who might have turned into a dog. If the police found out she’d said that, she could forget about them following up on any leads she gave them, even if they did figure out this was a murder.

On the third ring, however, an automated voice picked up and intoned that the number she’d dialed had been disconnected. Denise hung up. That’s right, Cat had been moving from place to place because some crazy vampire was stalking her. She obviously changed her number, too. Was Cat still overseas? How long had it been since Denise last spoke to her? Weeks, maybe.

Next Denise tried the number she had listed for Bones, Cat’s husband, but it, too, was disconnected. Denise dug around her house until she found an address book with the number for Cat’s mother in it. The number was from over a year ago, so no surprise when that was also out of service.

Frustrated, Denise flung the address book on her couch. She’d been avoiding contact with the undead world, but now when she needed someone plugged into it, she didn’t have anyone’s current number.

There had to be someone she could reach. Denise scrolled through the entries in her cell phone, looking for anyone who had connections to Cat. When she was almost at the end, one name leapt out at her.

Spade. That’s right, she’d inputted his number in her phone three months ago, because Spade had been the one to pick her up the last time she saw Cat.

Denise pressed “Call,” praying she didn’t hear that chipper monotone telling her that the number was no longer in service. Three rings, four…

“Hallo?”

Denise felt light-headed with relief at hearing Spade’s distinctive English accent. “Spade, it’s Denise. Cat’s friend,” she added, thinking of how many Denise’s a centuries-old vampire probably knew. “I don’t seem to have Cat’s number and…I’m pretty sure some thing murdered my cousin. Maybe both cousins and my aunt, too.”

It came out in a babble that sounded nuts, even to her. She waited, hearing nothing but her breathing during the pause on the other line.

“This is Spade, isn’t it?” she asked warily. What if she’d hit the wrong number somehow?

His voice flowed back immediately. “Yes, apologies for that. Why don’t you tell me what you believe you saw?”

Denise noticed his phrasing, but she was too wired to argue about it. “I saw my cousin murdered by a man who didn’t even twitch when I maced him in the face. Then the next thing I saw, a big damn dog was standing where the man had been, but it ran off, and the police think my twenty-five-year-old cousin died of a heart attack instead of being strangled.”

Another silence filled the line. Denise could almost picture Spade frowning as he listened. The vampire scared her, but right now, she was more afraid of whatever had killed Paul.

“Are you still in Fort Worth?” he asked at last.

“Yes. Same house as…as before.” When you dropped me off after killing a man in cold blood.

“Right. I’m sorry to inform you that Cat is in New Zealand. I can ring her or give you her number, but it would take a day at least for her to get to you, if not more.”

Her friend and expert on all things inhuman was halfway around the world. Great.

“…but I happen to be in the States,” Spade went on. “In fact, I’m in California. I could be there later today, have a look at your cousin’s body.”

Denise sucked in her breath, torn between wanting to find out what had killed Paul in the quickest way possible, and feeling edgy about it being Spade doing the investigating. Then she shoved that back. Paul, Amber, and her aunt’s death meant more than her being uncomfortable about who was helping her.

“I’d appreciate—”

Spade cut her off. “Expect me ’round noon.”

She looked at her watch. Less than six hours. She couldn’t get from California to Texas that fast if her life depended on it, but if Spade said he’d be there around noon, she believed him.

“Thanks. Can you tell Cat, um, that…”

“Perhaps it’s best if we don’t involve Cat or Crispin just yet,” Spade said, calling Bones by his human name as he always did. “They’ve had an awful time of it recently. No need to fret them if it’s something I can handle.”

Denise bit back her scoff. She knew what that translated to. Or if you’ve just imagined all of this.

“I’ll see you at noon,” she replied and hung up.

The house seemed eerily quiet. Denise glanced out the windows with a shiver, telling herself the foreboding sensation she had was a normal reaction to her violent night. Just to be sure, however, she went through each room and checked the windows and doors. All locked. Then she forced herself to shower, trying to block the image of Paul’s blue-tinged face from her mind. If she hadn’t agreed to go out drinking with him, he might still be alive now. Or what if she’d immediately run into the bar for help, instead of staying in the parking lot? Could she have saved Paul if she’d come out with a bunch of people who could have scared the attacker off? He’d left as soon as people responded to her screams; maybe she could have saved Paul if she hadn’t stood there uselessly macing his killer.

Denise was so caught up in her thoughts that she ignored the tapping sounds until they happened a third time. Then she froze. They were coming from her front door.

She pulled her Glock out of her nightstand. It was filled with silver bullets, which might only slow down a vampire but would kill anything human.

What if it was someone trying to pick the lock? Should she call the police or try to see what it was first? If it was just a raccoon nosing around and she called the