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A battle for werewolf territory and rights has Rhett fighting for his life and for the survival of the pack. The last Half Blood --a half human, half vampire hybrid--has been found and Rhett has been chosen as her unlikely Guardian. The pack's survival hangs on her completing her transformation, but a Sicarii--a vampire assassin--is hunting her to ensure that never happens...
A DARK SECRET REVEALED
Indigo's hard exterior is nothing compared to the dark secret she carries within her. Her haunted eyes alone tell of her struggle and desire to live. But what she doesn't know is that she is hard-wired for survival; the very blood in her veins and the legacy of her father demands it. But when her life takes a violent turn, her heritage and her fate may be the very thing to get her killed...
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From Half Blood.....
Rhett approached the late-model Camry he was about to boost. Grand theft auto wasn’t high on his to-do list, but he had to get Indi to a hospital. Besides, he was still buck-naked and hurting from the rapid change and the liquid donation. He glanced around the street, looking for humans. When he couldn’t smell or hear any close by, he punched his fist through the passenger side window. The tempered glass crumbled, falling into the seat.
Rhett swayed suddenly, clutching the top of the car to stay upright. Indi had taken a lot of his blood—more than he’d really been able to give—but he gave it willingly, knowing it would drag her back from the precipice of death she’d been flirting with. And although he would pay for what he’d done, he didn’t give a damn.
Popping the locks, he scrambled to get Indi into the back seat, snagging the blanket off the parcel shelf and spreading it over her. Her chest was rising and falling shallowly, but the color had come back to her cheeks. He brushed a few stray cubes of glass off the driver’s seat and hopped in the car, hot-wiring it to get it going.
Cranking up the heat to “inferno” to compensate for the broken window, Rhett tore off in the direction of St. Mary’s hospital in Reynard. It was in the next town over, but still within the Helheim territorial boundary. A wolf named Laithe worked in the ER as a nurse. He figured that if Nox was going to make another attempt at ending her life, she might as well have someone fighting on her side while she was there.
Laithe was having a cigarette when Rhett pulled into the ambulance bay, which was goddamn lucky. When he saw Rhett was behind the wheel, Laithe scrubbed out the end of his cancer stick on the heel of one of his Crocs and approached the car.
“Rhett, long time,” he said in a slightly accented drawl.
Rolling down the window, Rhett stuck his hand out to the guy, clapping palms. “Hey.”
“You feeling all right? You look like shit.”
Rhett’s lip tipped up in the corner. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replied. Showing another wolf weakness was never good.
Laithe bent down and peered into the back seat. “What have we got here?”
Rhett licked his lips and hoped Laithe was going to be cool. “The pack’s felvair.”
Laithe looked up quickly, his wolf peering out of his eyes for a long time. Rhett could sense the longing in its acid-green gaze. The pack hadn’t had a felvair in a long, long time—a good hundred years or so. Laithe had given up on waiting and married the human woman he was with now, knowing they could never have children, knowing she would die long before he would. Trans-species breeding didn’t work. Only a female werewolf could give birth to a werewolf child. Any human/werewolf combination resulted in a miscarriage.
Rhett felt light-headed again, his body trying to play catch-up on blood reproduction. He rubbed his temples as he said, “She was attacked by a Sicarii. Drained, but I got her heart going again. Can you help her?”
“Sure I can,” Laithe replied. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a wheelchair and a set of clothes. Laithe shoved the clothes at Rhett, and while he was getting changed, Laithe gently lifted Indi out of the back of the car.
Rhett asked, “What are you going to tell the doctors?”
“That I found her out here on my cigarette break. It happens a lot with ODs and domestic violence. They won’t suspect anything.”
Rhett breathed out a deep breath and gave Laithe his hand. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” he replied. Rhett crouched in front of Indi and pushed some hair out of her face, liking how warm her skin felt now. He kissed her gently on the forehead and stood up.
“Take good care of her,” Rhett said, his voice sounding a little choked.
“You got it,” Laithe replied. He turned and rushed Indi inside the sliding doors where a dozen doctors and nurses were milling around.
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Rhett approached the late-model Camry he was about to boost. Grand theft auto wasn’t high on his to-do list, but he had to get Indi to a hospital. Besides, he was still buck-naked and hurting from the rapid change and the liquid donation. He glanced around the street, looking for humans. When he couldn’t smell or hear any close by, he punched his fist through the passenger side window. The tempered glass crumbled, falling into the seat.
Rhett swayed suddenly, clutching the top of the car to stay upright. Indi had taken a lot of his blood—more than he’d really been able to give—but he gave it willingly, knowing it would drag her back from the precipice of death she’d been flirting with. And although he would pay for what he’d done, he didn’t give a damn.
Popping the locks, he scrambled to get Indi into the back seat, snagging the blanket off the parcel shelf and spreading it over her. Her chest was rising and falling shallowly, but the color had come back to her cheeks. He brushed a few stray cubes of glass off the driver’s seat and hopped in the car, hot-wiring it to get it going.
Cranking up the heat to “inferno” to compensate for the broken window, Rhett tore off in the direction of St. Mary’s hospital in Reynard. It was in the next town over, but still within the Helheim territorial boundary. A wolf named Laithe worked in the ER as a nurse. He figured that if Nox was going to make another attempt at ending her life, she might as well have someone fighting on her side while she was there.
Laithe was having a cigarette when Rhett pulled into the ambulance bay, which was goddamn lucky. When he saw Rhett was behind the wheel, Laithe scrubbed out the end of his cancer stick on the heel of one of his Crocs and approached the car.
“Rhett, long time,” he said in a slightly accented drawl.
Rolling down the window, Rhett stuck his hand out to the guy, clapping palms. “Hey.”
“You feeling all right? You look like shit.”
Rhett’s lip tipped up in the corner. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replied. Showing another wolf weakness was never good.
Laithe bent down and peered into the back seat. “What have we got here?”
Rhett licked his lips and hoped Laithe was going to be cool. “The pack’s felvair.”
Laithe looked up quickly, his wolf peering out of his eyes for a long time. Rhett could sense the longing in its acid-green gaze. The pack hadn’t had a felvair in a long, long time—a good hundred years or so. Laithe had given up on waiting and married the human woman he was with now, knowing they could never have children, knowing she would die long before he would. Trans-species breeding didn’t work. Only a female werewolf could give birth to a werewolf child. Any human/werewolf combination resulted in a miscarriage.
Rhett felt light-headed again, his body trying to play catch-up on blood reproduction. He rubbed his temples as he said, “She was attacked by a Sicarii. Drained, but I got her heart going again. Can you help her?”
“Sure I can,” Laithe replied. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a wheelchair and a set of clothes. Laithe shoved the clothes at Rhett, and while he was getting changed, Laithe gently lifted Indi out of the back of the car.
Rhett asked, “What are you going to tell the doctors?”
“That I found her out here on my cigarette break. It happens a lot with ODs and domestic violence. They won’t suspect anything.”
Rhett breathed out a deep breath and gave Laithe his hand. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” he replied. Rhett crouched in front of Indi and pushed some hair out of her face, liking how warm her skin felt now. He kissed her gently on the forehead and stood up.
“Take good care of her,” Rhett said, his voice sounding a little choked.
“You got it,” Laithe replied. He turned and rushed Indi inside the sliding doors where a dozen doctors and nurses were milling around.
Want more? Get Half Blood today!
Lauren Dawes is an urban fantasy/paranormal romance writer and the author of the Half Blood Trilogy. You won’t find any friendly vampires in between the pages of her books; just blood, teeth and violence. When she’s not writing, she’s reading or teaching. She currently lives in Victoria, Australia with her husband and cat.
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