LITMIR.BIZ

      To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

      KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2009 by Cindy Roussos

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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      All Kensington Titles, Imprints, and Distributed Lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund-raising, and educational or institutional use. Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington special sales manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018, attn: Special Sales Department, Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-2607-5

      ISBN-10: 0-7582-2607-1

      First Kensington Trade Edition: April 2009

      First Kensington Mass Market Edition: September 2018

      eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-4068-2

      eISBN-10: 0-7582-4068-6

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      Printed in the United States of America

      Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster.

      —Friedrich Nietzsche

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Prologue

      So this is what death feels like.

      Maya Black struggled for breath, struggled to fight the creeping cold that swept through her body. Jesus. She hadn’t wanted to go out like this. Hadn’t wanted to die in some damn dirty, stinking alley.

      She’d been born in an alley like this, and she sure as hell hadn’t planned to die in one.

      “Ummm, you taste so good.” The sick monster above her licked his fangs, freaking fangs, and she noticed that her blood coated his lips. “Poor little cop, I think I’ve drained you dry.”

      Her heart was slowing, the hollow beat barely echoing in her ears. The ground was hard beneath her, the moon shining brightly over her. And hell looked back at her from the creature’s eyes.

      A vampire. She knew what he was. She’d seen his kind before. Others thought things like him were just myths, but she knew better. She knew demons were real, knew the devil was real. Evil lurked in the world, she’d known that fact for years.

      “Beg me,” the vampire whispered, leaning over her and gazing at her with his soulless black eyes. “Beg me to change you, beg me to let you live.”

      To change you. No, oh, hell, no. She didn’t want to become a monster. And she would never, never beg.

      Not again.

      He slashed his wrist open with the edge of his fangs. Shoved the wound to her mouth.

      No!

      She turned her head away, trying to spit out the blood. Her hands fumbled in the trash beside her. Where was her weapon? The vampire had jumped her, thrown her against the wall, sank those razor-sharp fangs into her throat, and then had her on the ground in less than a minute.

      She’d dropped her gun. Where was it? Where—

      Her fingers closed over the barrel of her Glock. She pulled, struggling to bring the weapon closer. It felt so heavy in her hand, so—

      He laughed at her. Actually laughed. Then he grabbed the gun. Her fingers swiped out, clenched around the butt. He pushed the barrel dead-center against his chest and whispered, “Do it.”

      Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled the trigger.

      The bullet shot straight through his chest. He smiled at her.

      And her heart stuttered. The beat was slowing, slowing.

      “You can’t kill me, bitch, not with your weak bullets, not with—”

      He broke off, gasping, and he stumbled away from her, raising a hand to his chest. Smoke rose from the wound, a long, thin trail of smoke. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air, combined with the stench of rotten food in the alley.

      Maya’s lips curled as she stared at him.

      “Wh-what—” He fell to his knees, holding his chest. “Wh-what d-did y-you do?”

      She’d covered her bullets in holy water. She’d been doing that since she joined the force ten years ago. Since her first night, when a vampire had attacked her while she was patrolling the park. She’d barely gotten away from him. Maya had kicked, bit, fought with every ounce of strength she had. In the end, she’d been lucky. She’d managed to keep fighting him until her partner arrived to help her.

      She’d survived.

      But tonight would be different, she knew that. There was no backup for her tonight. She’d been working the case alone. Following a lead.

      Following death.

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