Shadowguard: The Twilight Deception
coming soon from Liquid Silver Books!

When the FBI receives word of vampire-related murders, they order tough-as-nails resident witch Arielle Thompson to investigate. But the last thing Arielle expects is to have her butt saved by a friendly vampire who claims he’s tracking the master vamp responsible for the murders.

Despite her wounded pride, Arielle can’t help her inexplicable attraction to this sexy-as-sin vampire who calls himself simply “Jackson.” He reluctantly informs her that their enemy is far more powerful than reports said — and his powerbase is only increasing.

Arielle and Jackson must team up to stop him, before he grows too powerful to defeat.

Excerpt:

“We’ve got a case for you.” Agent Reynolds dropped a folder in the middle of my desk. It hit a stack of papers with a thud, sending sheets flying. I grumbled under my breath and snatched them before they could make their way to the shredder.

“Like that’s news. You’ve always got a case for me.” I made a face as I picked up the file folders. I was only half-teasing.

Some days, I think they’re going to work me to death—maybe literally. You figure a certain amount of risk-taking is part of the deal when you sign on with the FBI, but some of the preternatural creatures I’ve fought make terrorists look like kindergarten bullies.

He didn’t smile as he jerked his head toward the thick, heavy folder. “Just look over the file. You’ll find it interesting.”

Whatever. Sighing, I took the folder and flipped through it. My face went cold and goose bumps shivered over my skin as I saw picture after picture of dead men and women, raised bite marks prominent on their necks. “What the hell is this?”

Reynolds shrugged. “It looks like vampires.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I glared at him. He knew what I meant.
God, I hate it when he gives me sass. Then again, it’s gotta be rough when you’re locked in a perpetual dick-sizing contest—and the chick without a dick comes out on top every time. “But there’s never been any indication that vampires are anything more than legend.”

“What about those psychic vampires?”

“That’s a misnomer. Psy-vamps feed off a person’s psychic energy, not blood. There’s been no historical suggestion that sanguine vampires are real.” I lightly hit the photos with the back of my hand for emphasis. “Until now.”

I didn’t have to tell him that preternatural creatures had been coming out of the fucking woodwork for the past seven years. That was why the FBI created the Paranormal Investigations subdivision—codename: Shadowguard—in the first place. We protect good American citizens from threatening monsters and all that crap. Yeah. In actuality, we prevent the public from freaking out when they see Big Foot skipping down Main Street.

Of course, vampires were a much more real threat than Big Foot. Especially vamps on a feeding frenzy.

“We’ve got American lives at stake here—”

“We’re dealing with vamps. Stakes are the name of the game, if the legends are right.” Of course, who knew? Not all of the preternatural creatures we’ve encountered conform to myth.

“Agent Thompson.” Reynolds slammed a fist down on my desk for emphasis, spilling my coffee all over yet another stack of papers.

God, you’d think the man had a personal goal: Destroy Arielle’s desk.

“We’ve got a half dozen people already dead down there. I need you to investigate and cover up the mess. We can’t afford for this to blow out of proportion any more than it already has.”

Standard operating procedure for our department. Can’t save the people? Oh, well. Cover it up. Eventually, the steaming pile of shit would burst out of the closet onto their heads. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when that happened—except I’d probably be involved.

“So you want me to fly down and take care of it, then?” I closed the folder with a snap and set to wiping up the spilled coffee with a paper towel.

Reynolds nodded curtly, then his face softened. “You’re the best we’ve got, Ari. We’re stuffed to the gills with psychics and hearth witches, but if true vampires are as dangerous as the legends say, you’re the only one with enough power to take one down.”

Yeah. A vampire. One shouldn’t be a problem, even if it was a sanguine. But if it was a whole coven, I’d be screwed like a sorority girl doped up on Rohypnol. With the entire football team. Yeah. So not looking forward to this.

If I’d known killing that damn psy-vamp king was going to get me this kind of attention, I might’ve let the bugger live. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.” I didn’t bother trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

He laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Someone’s gotta.”

Some people have a really lousy way of expressing “faith.”

* * * * *

Patience is one of those often extolled, much desired virtues that an agent damn well better develop. Otherwise, you’re going to lose your mind. After five years of working for the Feds, I’ve had to go looking for my sanity on more than one occasion. Eventually, I managed some modicum of patience.

And this motherfucker is using it the fuck up.

I tried to remain calm as Chief Anders glowered, scanning the most recent reports.
I understand the whole territory deal. Nobody wants to give up their case to a higher authority. Especially not small town cops. But sometimes you’ve gotta back down and let somebody more experienced take the reins.

He stood from his chair, closed the folder, and handed it back to me. “As you can see, Ms. Thompson, it’s only a few isolated incidents. Probably a couple teenage hooligans playing vampire to freak out the local populace. We’ve got everything under control. They’ll be found as soon as possible and dealt with accordingly.”

Yeah. He might as well have stuck a flashing neon sign to his forehead: We Don’t Want You Here. Sorry, but me leaving wasn’t an option. Not when my neck was on the line—literally.

“Six people have died in this town in the past three months alone. That’s highly unusual, especially for a small town like this.” Of course, the vampires had to set up camp in the middle of Bumfuck, Oklahoma. “I’d hardly call that ‘under control.’”

“We’ve got leads.” Anders straightened, tugging his sagging pants back up around his beer belly. “Couple o’ goth freaks we’re dragging in for questioning. It’ll be taken care of.”

Oh, yeah. Blame the goth kids for obvious preternatural activity. Smaaaaaaart. But I didn’t say that. “What’s the correlating evidence?”

He shrugged. “They’re our best lead. Everyone knows they play games pretending to be vampires. They probably thought it would be fun to take it to reality. Damn freaks.”

“Right, because playing Vampire: the Masquerade and wearing black is enough evidence to convict somebody of murder.” I put my hands on my hips, staring him down. Was this jerk-off born this stupid or is he deliberately trying for the Moron of the Year Award? Fortunately, I managed to stop myself before I said it—barely. “If that’s your best lead, no wonder six people have died.”

His face turned purple with rage. Really not his best color. “Are you insinuating that our department is incompetent?”

“No. I’m insinuating that you are incompetent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m paying a visit to the morgue.”

“Why?” Anders tilted his head, looking surprised. “You’ve seen the reports. Our forensics lab has done a thorough inspection.”

Hah. If their Chief of Police was anything to judge by, it wouldn’t be good enough. Not by a long shot. “I know. There are a few things I need to check.”

“Like what?”

Sometimes I wish I had one of those Inquisition torture devices. A scold’s bridle would be damn useful right about now. Then again, the last thing I need is a small town on a witch hunt. Pun intended. “Sorry, but I can’t talk about it. I’ve got a job to do here. Let me do it.” My eyes met his, my lips tightening. I wasn’t going to back down on this.

He tried to stare me down, but when you’ve grown up around cats, you can out-stare just about anything. He gave in after about thirty seconds. Wimp. Swearing under his breath, he jerked his head toward the door. “Fine. Be on your way, then.”

Thank God. If I stayed any longer, I would’ve developed hypothermia just from his mood. But I just smiled sweetly, nodded my head, and left. Without slamming the door the way I wanted to.

See, I could show restraint. Sometimes.

* * * * *

People have said I have an electric personality. Usually I blew it off, but the way the mortuary assistant—who must’ve been fresh out of college—was staring at me, you’d think I’d just shocked him with a small electric current. I tapped my foot impatiently. I didn’t have time to waste letting the kid boggle over a real, live witch. “The body?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tearing his gaze away. He opened the freezer door and rolled out the tray. “This would be the latest victim.”

Had to give him props. His voice didn’t shake. “Thank you.” I smiled and nodded. “If you’d excuse me, I need a moment alone.”

Kiddo blinked. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before choking out, “I’ve gotta ask. Are you … really … what they say?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “I am. Now get out before I turn you into a toad.”

Yelping, he dashed out of the room.

Jeez, you’d think I’d told him I was the devil’s concubine. Works like a charm. Better, if you want to be technical. Charms don’t usually do jack shit.

I waited until I heard the door close. Last thing I needed was Kiddo getting curious and sneaking up on me when I was in trance. Best case scenario, I’d just lose my concentration. Worst case … well, let’s put it this way, I’d rather the fire department not have to make an emergency stop in the morgue.

No time for this. I’ve got a job to do.

I pulled back the shroud, baring skin pale with death. Two puncture wounds, a sick combination of red, purple, and blue, stood out against her neck’s otherwise white skin. Yeah, those were vampire bites all right. I didn’t see any way they could possibly be explained as a goth kid’s imitation—but there’s not much you can do with unbelievers.

I closed my eyes and began controlling my breathing, both to calm and to put myself in the right headspace. After dealing with Anders and Kiddo, I needed to de-jangle myself before I started sounding like a psychic keychain.

Several minutes later, now in a serene, deep trance, I opened my eyes, but refocused them to concentrate on the psychic levels of reality.

Basically, think of being able to see the metaphysical transposed onto the physical, and you’d be about right.

Before I learned control, I used to walk around seeing both all the time. No wonder I had chronic migraines.

I directed my attention to the woman, scanning her aura. Whatever had attacked her would leave residual psychic traces. If it were human, vampire, or the Loch Ness monster—though I had no idea what poor Nessie would be doing in the middle of Bumfuck, Oklahoma—I’d be able to tell.

The area around the bites glowed a dull shade of red, striated with gold and black. I wrinkled my nose, tilting my head sideways. Not psy-vamps trying to cover up, then. Their marks were distinctly marbled black and never varied. This … I’d never seen anything like this before. Great. Why do I always have to be New Discovery Girl? Why can’t someone else handle this crap for once?

Oh, right, cause anyone else would screw it up.

My head started to pound. I rubbed it, sighing. I didn’t recognize the aural signatures, which pretty much determined I was dealing with vampires of the bloodsucking kind. Or some other type of unknown creature that mimicked them.

Which meant that to find out anything more about the creature, I would have to scan the woman’s memories.

I hate doing that. You never know what kind of sludge you’re going to pick up. But there’s more at risk here than just me. If I want to stop these murders, I don’t have much of a choice.

Before I changed my mind and decided to bolt, I pressed my fingers against the corpse’s temples. Closing my eyes, I started chanting softly. Any mundane who heard me would think it a whisper, if they heard it at all. But anyone gifted would’ve recognized the true force behind the words. And they probably would’ve wet themselves.

Memories still imprinted in the woman’s brain rushed to the surface, battering my shields. Hissing, I scanned them before pushing them into the ether. Last thing I needed was memories of blowjobs under office desks.

I grumbled under my breath as I sorted through the remaining memories, which was about as fun as sifting through pig shit for the diamond ring you’d lost. Sordid details of the dearly departed’s life aside, tooth-brushing and cat-feeding didn’t help me much, either.

God. What I would give for a Google search bar.

What I needed were the memories just before she died. That would’ve given me something more concrete than bite marks, possibly even enough details for me to find the bugger. Unfortunately, when someone dies in a violent manner, all sorts of memories are brought to the surface. The whole “life flashing before your eyes” cliché? It was true. I should know. It made mem-scans a royal pain in the ass.

There. I snatched a floating thought and scanned it. I almost fell to my knees.

Pain. Hands squeezed my arms, nails digging into my skin. A brick wall pressed against me, scraping my back where clothes didn’t cover. Something snarled, then sharp agony exploded within as the assailant grabbed my hair and yanked my head to the side. Razor teeth bit into my neck, puncturing my veins. I cried out—and saw black.

“Fucking hell!” I broke out of the memory and tried to calm myself. My breath came fast and I was sweating like a pig, but I couldn’t stop now. Not when I was so close. I freeze-framed the memory and jumped back in, trying to catch a better glimpse of the attacker’s aura. There. I got a handle on his pulsating red energy. Now, I just needed to set up a trace. I held the memory close, still chanting under my breath as I tried to weave the trace, not letting myself feel my apprehension.

See, I’d only done this once before. Added to that, none of my colleagues would even think about working over distance. It took much more control and finesse to do distance work than if the person stood right in front of you. But I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to try. Otherwise, I might never find the killer.

The energies wove together quickly, intricate threads twining between my fingers. They fed through the residual aura that, while weakened, would still hold a close tie to the vampire. Almost finished. One last…

The corpse’s eyes snapped open. I didn’t even have time to think, much less move. Electricity surged through the woman and up my arms, sending blinding agony through my body. I screamed as my flesh sizzled, yanking my hands away.

Too much…

I couldn’t even finish the thought. My eyes rolled back into my skull, and I collapsed to the floor, my world gone black.