Chapter One

The scent of human blood arouses my senses, but the taste of it enthralls me, and I cannot stop myself from surrendering to its call, sinking my fangs into the pliant flesh of a mortal. When I break through a vein, the taste is delicious. But when I pierce an artery, a high like nothing else in the multiverse consumes me, bringing with it the sweet, spicy, exquisite flavor of the freshest blood.

“Oh God, yes, don’t stop.”

The voice of the woman I’m devouring, in the most literal sense, pulls me out of the blood trance. I retract my fangs from her flesh and glide my tongue over my teeth and lips to lap up every iota of this woman’s essence. Yes, blood is the essence of life—and of death.

“Do that again,” the woman pleads, her tone breathless and her breasts heaving. “That was incredible. Please, do it again.”

My lips are still teasing the skin of her inner thigh, where I had gorged myself on the femoral artery, though I had stopped before I took too much. Now, I lick the blood away from the wound, slowly, sensually, while the woman writhes and moans beneath me. I have no desire to kill this mortal by drinking too deeply. As I drag my tongue over the fang marks, her skin seals up.

Sometimes I do want to drain a mortal completely, but that would mean death for the one I devour. I could drink until my lover is near that point, but I won’t do it tonight, with this woman. Never again, if I can’t find the one woman I’ve sought for so long. Have the Four Winds hidden her from me? They know the sweetest blood of all still calls out to me.

As I lap up the last bit of this mortal’s blood from my lips, I slide off the bed onto my feet. Then I stretch and groan with deep gratification, though not complete satisfaction.

My lover crawls toward me on hands and knees, then rises to kneel inches away from me. The nameless female skates her hands up her belly and over her breasts before settling her palms on my chest. “Let’s have sex again. You can bite me as many times as you want. Never knew anything could feel this good. Wasn’t it incredible?”

“Yes.” But not for the reasons she believes. The taste of human blood makes me hard, and I needed the release of taking her body after the first time I devoured her.

She tries to kiss me, but I shove her backward. The woman falls onto the bed on her back. And she pouts. “Come on, baby. You know you want me.”

“Once was enough.” With a single thought, I summon my clothing onto my body. “I have no more need of your flesh.”

I teleport away before she can beg me to fuck her again. The lust has dissipated, and my hunger is satiated—for now. No matter how many mortals I drink from or how many lovers I take to bed, never again will I experience true satisfaction.

Unless I can find her…

But Riley Jordan is beyond my reach. The Four Winds ensured that. They fear my power, and perhaps all I need to do is employ my heightened sense of smell to sniff her out. No being in any world could smell as delicious as Riley. Once, I had sunk my fangs deep into her carotid artery. The flavor of her has stayed with me ever since. With one taste, I became helplessly addicted.

Stop, Cyneric, you’re killing Riley.

The memory slams into me so hard that I stagger sideways and bump into a brick wall. I’m standing in an alley—where on earth, I have no idea—and my heart has begun to pound with a ferocity that makes my head spin and my breaths shorten. Tris of the copper fae had been begging me to stop, but I could not.

Take her. Have her. Devour her.

I clutch my head with both hands and sag against the wall while the words Drakon had spoken months ago echo in my mind. The crown prince of the Western Kingdom of Dragon Shifters had bade me to give in to the craving, to the searing lust that demanded I drink Riley dry. I’d wanted to do so much more than that with her, but the seductive call of blood had taken control.

Imagine what she will taste like, how good it will feel to feast on her blood.

Drakon had said that. Or was it Tris? No, it must have been the dragon prince.

If you don’t stop now, she will die.

Tris had snarled those words. Something about the tone of his voice had triggered a pang of…regret inside me. I had gently retracted my fangs from her throat, but it was too late. She would have died if not for the powers of a healing vortex and the being who controlled it—Triskaideka of the copper fae.

The whirling in my head subsides. My pulse returns to normal.

I drag in a deep breath and exhale it slowly. Drakon died months ago, destroyed by Tris and Riley. Why can I not cease to remember those days? Why do I still crave the woman whose blood I drank of deeply? Ever since, I have been suckling from the veins and arteries of woman after woman but never find what I need. Perhaps because I don’t know what I need.

Except for her.

I push away from the wall and survey my surroundings. I’ve landed in an alley, and I hear the sounds of revelry further down the narrow passage between two buildings. Perhaps there is a drinking establishment down there. I believe mortals call it a club. Before my emancipation, I had only used a club to bludgeon my enemies, but humans turned that word into something else. They are strange and incomprehensible. But then, all beings in every realm seem that way to me.

As I stride down the alley, the noises from the club grow louder. A low, rhythmic thumping emerges from inside the building, and I can hear the faint sounds of screeching music. Yes, mortals believe tuneless noise is music and the louder it is, the better. My elemental ears can handle the noise without incurring damage. The mortals in clubs must all be half deaf.

I walk straight past the club with its thundering racket. Places like that one are not appealing to me. Seduction requires that my target can hear my voice.

At the street corner, I glance left and right. None of the garish establishments in the vicinity appeal to me. I jog across the intersection and into the alley on the other side. The deeper shadows here provide cover for me, and my dark clothing adds an extra layer of anonymity.

Up ahead, the rear door of a building swings open. A man and woman exit, their features obscured by the shadows as the door shuts behind them. But I can see a head of long blonde hair. The woman wears denim shorts and a tank top while hiking boots cover her feet.

My pulse accelerates. Riley.

I stride swiftly down the alley to reach whatever establishment she had come out of, arriving just as the woman throws her head back and laughs. Her companion is not the leprechaun Tris, and perhaps the absence of her copper fae lover should stop me. But it doesn’t. I clamp a hand down on the woman’s shoulder.

She jerks and swivels her head to stare at me with wide eyes. Fear radiates off her.

The woman is not Riley.

Her companion pushes the girl behind his body and gives me a strong shove. “Back off, perv. The BDSM club is two blocks east.”

I tip my head to the side. “What is BDSM?”

“The twisted shit freaks like you love.” He scans me up and down, his lip curling. “You went all in for that garbage, didn’t you? Leather coat, leather pants, black T-shirt. What, you couldn’t afford the whips and chains?”

Despite knowing the blonde girl is not Riley, I experience a strong urge to touch her, to gaze into her eyes, to sink my teeth into her throat. I grasp the annoying male and hoist him off the pavement. His shoes hang several feet off the ground. “You are in my way.”

I hurl him down the alley.

The man smacks down on the pavement, rolling three times, and winds up flat on his back.

As I stride toward the woman, she cowers against the wall of the building.

“Please,” she says, her voice shaky. “Please don’t hurt me.”

I halt a few paces away, canting my head to study her. I can smell her fear. The air is redolent with it. I dislike that stench, but I cannot stop myself from leaning in to sniff her throat.

“Please don’t kill me.”

That soft plea, half whispered with a hiccup at the end, snaps me out of my trance. No, this woman is not the one I seek. Riley Jordan would never beg for her life in such a manner.

I march down the alley, stepping over the man who still lies prone on the ground. He moans when I pass by but does not rise. He will survive, though his bruises might make him wish he had not. His injuries have no meaning to me. At the next intersection, I veer down the sidewalk. Why? I made no conscious decision to do so. But as I wander down the concrete path with grumbling vehicles rushing past on the street, I experience an odd sensation of…anticipation. Perhaps I subconsciously sense another woman whose blood I might drink. But no, this sensation is like nothing I’ve felt before.

The doors of a closed shop fly open, and a woman stumbles out onto the sidewalk. She gestures rudely at the man who just shut the door. I’ve learned that flicking one’s fingers across the chin is a crude gesture in the mortal world, though I still cannot fathom why.

“Your crap is overpriced,” she hollers at the man. “Only a moron would pay that much for a pair of pawned earrings.”

The woman straightens her clothes and squares her shoulders, then walks away—toward me.

I quickly duck into the shadows under the awning of a shuttered shop.

The woman ambles down the sidewalk, posture slumped, and struggles to keep her large bag hooked over her shoulder. A lock of hair keeps falling over her eyes, and she continually swipes it away. A filthy man wearing tattered clothes crashes into her, and she nearly falls down but catches herself at the last moment. As the vagrant flees, she throws her arms up and shouts, apparently to the sky, “Oh, come on. Is this really what I deserve?”

She bows her head but does not move.

The scent of her wafts over me, sweet and redolent with flavors I cannot describe. No woman I have ever tasted smelled as delicious as her, not even Riley Jordan.

I clench my hands and my teeth. No, I do not want this female. Only Riley.

But the aroma of this woman…

No. I seek Riley. She belongs with me, not the leprechaun.

The woman freezes. With her head still bowed, she rotates only her eyes to stare into the shadows where I hide.

I smell no fear from her, which does not make sense. A stranger hides in the shadows to watch her, yet she feels no trepidation. Though I have no idea why I do it, I find myself walking out of the darkness to approach the woman. The glow of a neon sign reveals me.

She straightens and lifts her brows, raking her gaze over me from head to toe. “Do you always skulk in the shadows? That’s not very polite.”

“Why do you not fear me?”

“Trust me, hon, I’ve seen worse things than you on the streets at night.”

Her voice reminds me of Riley, but only because of her accent. She must be American, though I still do not understand what that means.

The strange mortal eyes me up and down again, then shakes her head. “A kid like you shouldn’t be out alone this late. It’s after midnight.”

What is a “kid”? I won’t ask her. It doesn’t matter.

She smiles, and the expression tightens wrinkles around her eyes. “You seem confused. Are you lost, sweetie?”

Her smile, her scent, her voice… They confound me. I feel oddly drawn to her, against my wishes, but I will not allow the Unseen to hold sway over me here in the mortal world. I do not want this woman.

So, I whisk myself away.

Chapter Two

I emerge from the dark void into the sunlight. Teleportation always involves traveling via the void, a dark and treacherous tunnel that winds its way through the empty spaces between particles. The journey takes less than an instant. I had left my previous location seconds ago, yet it seems as if hours or even days have elapsed. Perhaps I have landed on the other side of this world where night has not yet fallen, or perhaps I’ve come to a different world altogether.

Fortunately, my aversion to the sun has gone away, a recent change that I cannot explain. The reasons why matter little to me. I am free to go wherever I choose. But I did not choose this location. I was either pulled here by an outside force or my targeting had failed.

Where am I?

Glancing around, I realize I stand alongside a wooden structure of some sort that only vaguely resembles a house. A grassy plain stretches out in all directions. I can see other buildings far in the distance, though I can’t discern their purpose. Even my enhanced vision doesn’t help me see objects that far away.

A strange odor wafts over me.

I sniff the air, turning in a circle, trying to determine from which direction the stench came. It seems to be the building directly in front of me. I stride into the structure where several large animals reside. They emit odd groaning noises and have organs that drop down from their bellies as well as what seem like multiple fingers protruding from beneath their bodies. I approach one of the creatures. It looks up at me with large brown eyes but does not pause in chewing the strands of vegetative matter that stick out of its mouth. The strands appear to be dead grass or weeds.

As I gaze into the creature’s eyes, I begin to feel…relaxed. An inexplicable urge seizes me, and I stretch a hand out to touch the creature.

“What the hell are you doing to my cows?”

The angry voice originated behind me, near the doorway to this structure. I ignore the voice and stroke the hairy beast before me.

A hand seizes my arm and attempts to pull me away from the brown-eyed creature.

I do not move.

“Get away from my cows,” the voice growls. A noise that sounds like ka-chunk follows. “Move now or I’ll blow your damn head off.”

Mortals can be so tiresome. This one speaks with an accent I recognize because I have met an elemental who once lived in Texas when he was human, before his forging, though his accent has now changed.

I turn toward the being, who I can now see is a human male. He holds a long stick of a sort I have seen before. I believe it’s known as a shotgun. The man aims it at me. I wave my hand, and the weapon vanishes.

“What the—” The stranger turns his palms up as if studying the empty space where his shotgun had once been. “How did you—That’s impossible.”

“It is entirely possible. I teleported your weapon away.” Turning halfway toward the animal, I watch it chewing the dead grass in its mouth. “What variety of creature is this?”

The man does not speak.

Swiveling my head toward him, I ask the question again in case he believes I was speaking to the grass-eating beast. “What sort of creatures are these?”

His lips work for several seconds before he speaks. “It’s a cow.”

“What is the purpose of cows?”

“They, uh, make milk and can be killed for their meat.”

I gaze at the cow again, but its appeal has waned for me. I whisk myself away again. This time, I’ve landed in a city. Is it the same one as before? I can’t tell. The answer hardly matters to me since I seek only to find another mortal to drink. I should not have become weakened, even slightly, from transporting myself twice. The nourishment I received from that woman earlier should have sustained me, yet I already feel peckish.

Horns blare out on the street, but I wander down a narrow pathway where the street noises are somewhat muffled. Sunlight filters down to me, muted by the structures at either side of the alley, and the stench of refuse sifts into my nostrils. I wander back to the street and head down the sidewalk. Mortals give me strange looks, though some females clearly appreciate my attire.

Ahead of me, a woman crouches on the sidewalk, attempting to gather up the items she had dropped. I hesitate a short distance from her, cocking my head to the side as I watch the woman and listen to the half-mumbled words she speaks.

“Damn, damn, damn. Frigging jackass. Knock me down like a domino, then run off.”

None of her words make sense. She believes no one heard her, but my supernatural senses allow me to detect sounds that no mortal could hear. The scent of her envelops me, and I recognize the aroma. This is the woman who had called me “hon” and “a kid.” I can’t resist inhaling a deep draft of her scent. It makes my cock rouse.

She gives up on gathering her possessions and drops her face into her hands. Her shoulders quiver.

Her plight should not bother me. Yet I find myself walking up to the woman and kneeling beside her. “May I assist you?”

She jerks her head up, and her brows draw together. “It’s you again.”

When she looks into my eyes, I become frozen to the spot where I kneel. I cannot tear my focus away from her amber eyes, and her husky voice sends a shiver of lust through me. I was not this close to her the last time we met. Now, hovering inches from her shapely figure, I seem to have lost all my ability to move or speak.

“You okay, hon?”

This female is nothing like Riley, yet I experience a similar need to possess her. Riley had never allowed me to claim her. Might this woman permit me to possess her body and her soul? No, I do not want anyone but Riley. I had once worshiped Larissa, the mortal who had formerly been the goddess Hathor, but I had not craved her the way I hunger for this woman. Perhaps her scent reminds me of Riley. That would explain my attraction to her.

But no, she smells nothing like that. Her scent is stronger and more intoxicating.

The strange woman touches my cheek. “You look pale, sweetie. Probably got low blood sugar. When was the last time you ate something?”

“I do not know. It was night the last time I fed.”

She keeps her hand on my cheek, the warmth of her palm seeping into my flesh. “Why don’t you come with me to the diner down the street? I haven’t had lunch yet either.”

“You do not speak the way others in this city do.”

“I could say the same about you. I’m originally from Pennsylvania.” She winks at me. “And I’m guessing you’re originally from England.”

“Am I? Others believe I am British.”

“Because that’s what English people are called—British.” She pulls her hand away, robbing me of her soft skin. “Do you have amnesia?”

“I do not know. What city is this?”

“Amarillo. That’s in Texas, hon, in case you can’t remember.” She once again attempts to gather up her belongings, but she still can’t carry all of those items. “Damn. I’m so clumsy today.”

I teleport her belongings into my arms and rise. “I will carry these for you.”

She tips her head back to stare up at me with wide eyes. “How did you do that? You just made all that stuff go poof and…appear in your hands.”

I tip my head to the side. “Yes.”

When she struggles to get up, apparently hindered by her high-heeled shoes, I offer her my hand. She accepts my help, and I pull her close. She gazes into my eyes as if she has never seen anyone like me before. She has not, that is for certain. “I think we’d better go to my apartment instead of a diner. You might cause a panic if you poof things away again. Your blue eyes are so pale they seem unearthly, and they swirl too. That would definitely scare the shit out of most people.”

“You do not fear having me in your home?”

“I should be afraid, but I’m not. How strange is that? I feel I can trust you.”

Have I ensorcelled her without consciously trying? I doubt that’s possible. Yet she does appear slightly dazed. “Where do you live?”

She recites an address, and I teleport us directly into her home. We land in the living room beside a sofa. Over the past several months, since I fled the Unseen and came to the mortal world, I have learned many of the terms that humans use. Many more still elude me.

I release the woman.

She backs away from me, but only a short distance. “What’s your name, hon?”

“Cyneric.”

“That’s unusual. I’ve never heard that name before.”

“It is more ancient than any civilization you have encountered.” I cant my head, studying her. “What is your name?”

“Amanda Nelson. Don’t you have a last name?”

“No.”

She wanders over to the sofa and sits down, then pats the cushion beside her. “Have a seat. I think we should talk before I make lunch for us.”

I shuffle toward the sofa, my footsteps halting, and stare down at the cushion beside Amanda. I cannot move one step further. This woman confounds me more than anyone, even Riley, has ever done before. But my body seems to have a mind of its own, because I settle onto the sofa.

Amanda turns slightly toward me. “You aren’t like other people. Are you, hon?”

“You are correct.”

“Either I’m having the wildest dream, or you can actually take us to another place in an instant.”

“I can do that.”

She leans back and folds her arms under her bosom. The action lifts her breasts and draws my focus to them. “Thank you for carrying my stuff for me. But I need to know one thing. What are you?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“You aren’t human, right? You’re something else.” When I nod, she narrows her gaze on me. “So tell me, hon, what are you?”

“An elemental vampire.”

She stares at me while remaining completely still. Even her eyelids don’t move. Then she blinks rapidly. “Oh. Is that all?”

A hiccup of nervous laughter had interrupted her words. I’ve spent enough time in the presence of mortals to know they often laugh when confronted with my true nature. But none of them know what I really am.

Amanda tightens her arms around herself, which hoists her breasts even more. That makes me hunger to devour them, to devour her, but I experience a strange impulse not to do that. I need to know more about this human female who does not fear me.

“Do you believe that I am a vampire?”

She bites her lip and studies me for a moment. “Yes, I believe you. Like I said the first time we met, I’ve seen worse things than you.”

“I doubt that.”

“You have no idea what I’ve witnessed, and you’re too young to understand.” She lowers her hands to her lap and roves her gaze over me. “How old are you, sweetie? Can’t be much more than your mid-twenties.”

She has no conception of how ancient I am. And I suddenly realize that I do not want to tell her. I need to keep her with me, to possess her, to erase the memory of Riley by claiming this woman.

Amanda’s gaze flicks down to my groin, and her lips tick upward at one corner. “You are way too young for me, hon.”

I am developing an erection, and she could see that. Despite her statement that I’m too young for her, I can smell her desire. She wants me. I would love to fuck her, but something about this woman makes me feel…protective of her. Still, I experience an oddly powerful need to explain. But I resist that urge. If she knew my true age, she would run away.

So instead, I ask, “How old are you?”

“Did nobody ever tell you it’s rude to ask a woman that question?” She smirks and pats my cheek. “Luckily for you, I’m not sensitive about my age. It’s a badge of honor for me. And to answer your question, I’m fifty-three years old.”

“Is that meant to be shocking? Most of the beings I have met are far older than that.”

And no, I will never tell Amanda how long ago I was created.

The world shifts around me with dizzying speed and force, dragging me through the abyssal tunnel headfirst. I drop face-down onto cool, damp earth.

“There you are, you naughty vampire.”

I push up onto my hands and knees, rotating my head to glare at the being who had spoken. “Why have you summoned me, Janus?”

“Because you need an intervention.”