Out of the Night

out.”

Oh, hell. She took a sharp and hasty step aside—clearing the path, leaving as much room between them as possible.

He took a moment—she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt so looked at—and then he strode away—not so much as a glance back, that wry smile lingering. Whatever stiff effort she thought she’d seen in his movement, nothing of it remained.

Gwen touched the fine platinum rope chain that was always, always at her neck. Her fingers ran to the flat disk hanging beneath her shirt—the familiar shape of it a comfort, the habit of touching it so instilled that she rarely did it consciously. Her father’s gift.

Now, she found her fingers on it—through her shirt, closed her hand around it. Looking for...

She had no idea. But she thought maybe something had already found her.

* * *

Mac reached the parking lot on overdrive—made himself stop, feeling the aches of a beating and the burn of the unnatural healing pushed by the blade. Made himself breathe deeply—once, twice.

Not mine. The feelings aren’t mine.

But they were.

At least, some of them were. The part of him that responded to an abundance of red-glinting hair and copper freckles and wide, pale blue eyes; the part of him that tightened into awareness at fit curves beneath travel-wrinkled clothing, undeterred by her stark reaction to his presence.

Those feelings...they came very much from within.

She’d stood him down without blinking.

To some extent, without breathing—he’d taken her by surprise, no doubt about it. But nerve...

Oh, yeah. She had it.

She also radiated trouble like a beacon. There’d been no denying the way her presence had slapped at him—warned him.

And simultaneously beguiled him.

The blade had absorbed her like a sponge. Her shock at the first sight of him, her frisson of stark, startled response—her feelings, filtered through living metal with more subtlety, more layering...

The blade, Mac would have said, had a crush.

If such a thing were possible. But a true crush...that meant giving.

And the blade only knew to take.

Mac rubbed his chest just to the left of center...just a little lower than his heart. There, where the tattoo had appeared overnight. The night he’d thought he’d died, only to find that he hadn’t quite.

The night he’d changed from casually footloose—catching up with family here, visiting friends there, working a vague path along the way—to grimly driven from one place to another, never quite comfortable where he was or who he was.

Beneath the thin ribbed shirt, the tattoo’s complex design ran raised beneath his touch. No ordinary tattoo at that. He ran his fingers over it, not sure what he was looking for. Never sure what he was looking for.

But he thought, this time, maybe something had found him.

TRISH MILBURN

writes paranormal romance for the Harlequin Nocturne line and contemporary romance for the Harlequin American Romance line. She’s a two-time Golden Heart award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips and is a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And one of these days, she’s going to cosplay Selene from Underworld at Dragon*Con.

Dear Reader,

I am beyond thrilled that my first Harlequin Nocturne, Out of the Night, is available this month. It introduces V Force, an elite group of cops who just happen to be vampires. Leading the New York City arm of V Force is Campbell Raines. His one reason for existing is to keep law and order—until he meets Olivia DaCosta and begins to yearn for more. But can a human ever love a vampire?

I might be a gal who spooks easily in the real world, but I have a definite love for things that go bump in the fictional night. Considering my love for the Underworld movies, The Vampire Diaries and Supernatural TV shows, Gary Oldman’s turn as Dracula in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and several vampire-centric book series, it was only a matter of time before I put my own spin on a vampire world. I hope you enjoy the world of V Force.

Trish Milburn

ISBN-13: 9781460320181

OUT OF THE NIGHT

Copyright © 2013 by Trish Milburn

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