Black Fallen

Praise for the

Dark Ink Chronicles

Eventide

“I had high hopes for the third book in the Dark Ink Chronicles and I was not disappointed. . . .
Eventide
is an action-packed trip into the heart of Riley’s journey and I can’t wait to see
where she and Eli go from here.”

—Night Owl Romance
(top pick)

“[
Eventide
] will elate fans. . . . The lead couple is at their best, but this is Riley’s show.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

“The author’s use of vivid descriptions to build her world of vampires and hunters
is outshone only by her creation of multifaceted characters.”

—
Romantic Times

“Riley is funky, is comfortable in her own skin, and loves and protects those close
to her. . . . Some new characters are thrown into the mix and I feel that a lot of
great things will come of their arrival in future books.”

—Urban Fantasy Investigations

Everdark

“One of the things I love so much about this series—besides the smoking-hot scenes
with Riley and Eli—is that Elle Jasper writes so descriptively that I feel like I’m
in the story. . . . When it comes to waiting for new books in a series . . . Elle
Jasper will make it worth the wait.”

—The Romance Dish

“You won’t be able to put it down.”

—Dark Faerie Tales

“Ms. Jasper has a great voice that draws the reader in and writes a solid paranormal
series that adds a fresh perspective on vampires, magic, and the South. I can’t wait
to see what she comes up with next.”

—Night Owl Romance

“The characters are personable and vibrant.”

—Smexy Books Romance Reviews

“Add in voodoo, the Gullah culture, and the town of Savannah and you have the makings
for a great paranormal series. . . . This is a must read for all major paranormal
fans.”

—The Romance Readers Connection

“Serious action sequences—we’re talking training, free running, vampire fight club,
throwin’ knives, etc.—but at the heart of [the story] is the bond between [Riley and
Eli]. . . . You will love
Everdark
.”

—Vampire Book Club

Afterlight

“Sultry, sexy, spooky Savannah—the perfect setting for hot vampires. . . . Beware
of reading
Afterlight
after dark!”

—
New York Times
bestselling author Kerrelyn Sparks

“
Afterlight
is a book every paranormal lover is going to fall in love with. . . . Ms. Jasper
penned a winner. . . . This is a must-read paranormal book and it comes highly recommended.”

—Night Owl Romance (5 stars)

“Darkly atmospheric and steamy.”

—
Booklist

“There’s a certain thrill that goes with realizing you might have discovered the best
book you’ve read in a long, long time. . . .
Afterlight
is beautifully written with mind-numbing possession over the reader. It’s edgy and
modern, with just the right amount of good versus evil. . . . The most absorbing,
enticing, and unique paranormal world I’ve read in years.”

—Romance Junkies (5 blue ribbons)

“A fast-paced thriller starring a kick-butt heroine whose unique blood proves more
in demand than her unique tattoos. . . . Elle Jasper’s rendition of the vampire Everdark
underworld of Savannah provides a welcome addition to the subgenre blood bank.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

“A steamy journey into the world of drugs and magic, sex and blood. . . . Fans of
J. R. Ward, Gena Showalter, and Adrian Phoenix will love it.”

—Bitten by Books

“Dark, Gothic, seeping with atmosphere.”

—Fiendishly Bookish

“Elle Jasper puts her own unique spin on the vampire myth and sucks the reader into
the story—no pun intended. Savannah is the perfect setting for this series—steamy,
mysterious, elegant, and full of history, but with a dark, gritty side. I could practically
feel the sticky, humid air on my skin and smell the sugary, buttery scent of the pralines.”

—The Romance Dish

“The first book in the Dark Ink Chronicles starts out with a bang. The protagonist
Riley Poe grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. Instead of slowly building,
the characters and steamy setting of Savannah pull the reader right into their world
and have their way with you. It’s a superb beginning to an unusual and addictive series
and Jasper is destined to become a fan favorite.”

—
Romantic Times
(4½ stars)

The Dark Ink Chronicles
by Elle Jasper

Afterlight

Everdark

Eventide

Black Fallen

T
HE
D
ARK
I
NK
C
HRONICLES

ELLE JASPER

SIGNET
ECLIPSE

Published by New American Library, a division of

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3,
Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin
Books Ltd)

Penguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110
017, India

Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division
of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

Penguin Books, Rosebank Office Park, 181 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parktown North 2193, South
Africa

Penguin China, B7 Jaiming Center, 27 East Third Ring Road North, Chaoyang District,
Beijing 100020, China

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Copyright © Cindy Homberger, 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed
in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in
or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Purchase only authorized editions.

SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility
for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen
property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the
author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

Part One

THE CRESCENT

I saw the angel in the marble and c
arved until I set him free.

—Michelangelo

A feeling of complete and utter disaster has settled just
below the surface of my conscience. I hope these new team members can help make a
difference. Something has to.

—Gabriel

Edinburgh, Scotland

Old Town

Late October

B
lood. Holy Christ, there’s so much of it. Everywhere. Bodies. Human bodies. Crumpled,
laying in distorted ways, jagged bones jutting through ripped clothes as they lay
lifeless on the cobbled stones. Against the buildings. So many. My stomach rolls,
and I look away. I breathe, carefully picking my way through. It’s cold. Windy. Now
the streets are barren. Where did the blood, the bodies go? I’m not here alone. I
feel a presence.

It’s behind me. Hugging the shadows. So fast, I can’t tell if it’s running, flying,
or scaling the walls.

Doesn’t really matter. Either way, I’m being stalked.

And it’s one of the Black Fallen.

Hurrying along the sidewalk, I slip into a narrow alley and press my back against
the aged stones. A dim streetlamp overhangs the eve above, and the shadows reach long
and jagged toward me. I listen closely. The air suddenly shifts, and in the next second
I leap over the alley to the opposite wall. I climb, and in seconds I’m on the roof.
I crouch, my fingers curled around the ledge, peering into the pitch darkness below.
Waiting.

I know he’s coming for me.

I want him to.

Leaning back on my heels, I find the hilt of my silver blade that’s tucked into the
back of my jeans, and palm it tightly. My eyes search the alley, the street and shadows
below. Then I lift my gaze to study the jagged rooftops. It’s here. Hiding. Lurking.
Adrenaline rushes through me, and I draw a deep breath—

I’m on my back, rolling away, then I lurch up and crouch several feet from the ledge.

No one is there. My blade is drawn, my body rigid. Ready.

���You’re fast,” a voice whispers behind me.

I whip around, and slash my blade.

A figure jerks back, then laughs darkly. “Almost too fast. But not quite.”

Suddenly, he’s in front of me, and strong fingers grasp my throat. I’m lifted off
my feet as he walks toward the ledge. I try to slash at him with the blade, kick,
throw my legs around him, but I’m paralyzed. I can’t even scream. The shadows fall
onto his face, blurring his features together. I can do nothing more than stare.

“You’re powerless, my young mixed-blood,” he says. His voice is deep, his accent . . .
old. “You can do nothing to stop me.” He swings me out and shakes me over the ledge.
Nothing but air separates me from the stone cobbles thirty feet below. He’s using
some kind of mind-power shit on me and it’s pissing me off. My gaze never leaves the
vicinity of his.

“Oh. Strong-willed, are you?” he says. I can hear laughter in his voice, shaking me
again. He’s only toying with me, amused. “Strength will get you nowhere with me,”
he warns, and gives me another shake. “See how you’re nothing but a weak mortal now?
All those powers you’ve acquired? Gone. You’d be better off to join us.” He cocks
his head. “Would you?”

I try to answer, but my throat is squeezed shut.

He laughs. “Oh. Forgive me,” he says, and loosens his grip on me. “Now, what was that?”

“Go fuck yourself,” I say in a hoarse whisper.

Instantly, my throat is released, and I’m falling fast, the cobbles reaching up to
me, and his laughter resonating off the stone walls, and the broken bodies along the
cobbles begin screaming my name—

“Riley?”

“What?” I jerk up, my eyes fluttering open.

“You were sleeping,” a raspy, familiar voice says. “Are you all right?”

I turn my head and look. It’s Eli. Relief washes over me. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Eli’s blue eyes narrow. Nail me to my seat. “Liar.”

I smile. “Just a dream, big guy. No big deal. Honest.”

Eli’s mouth tips at the corner. “You don’t have normal dreams, Ri.”

He’s right. I sure as hell don’t. “I just dreamed a Black Fallen kicked my ass.”

Eli sighs and closes his eyes. Frustration rolls off him in waves. “Riley,” he begins,
and looks at me.

“I know, I know,” I finish. “Cross my heart, I will let you know if anything weird
happens.”

His cerulean stare is disbelieving. I really don’t blame him, either.

“We’re almost there. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

I lean forward a little and glance past Eli at Jake Andorra. My new boss.

He grins. “I promise.”

The Rover pitches forward and my hand involuntarily tightens around the leather strap
suspended above the door that I’ve had a death grip on ever since the vehicle left
the parking lot at the airport. Our driver, Peter, is an old guy with a shock of gray
hair covered by a tweed cap. Peter is clearly insane and lacks an updated driver’s
license. Maybe he’s never even had one. Peter hits the gas and passes a slower driver.
We all lunge forward. My stomach turns.

“Och. Sorry ’bout that,” says Peter nonchalantly in heavy Scottish brogue.

Jake chuckles.

“Ignore him,” Eli says, and leans close. His lips graze my ear, and I’m not at all
surprised at the shiver it causes within me. “He likes to get you riled up.”

I glare at Jake, who shrugs. “It’s true,” he admits.

I turn away and ignore him. Eli’s right. Jake is one cocky ass. Hot as mess, but an
ass all the same.

“Thank you,” Jake says.

I shoot him another glare. Mind readers suck. And I’m surrounded by them—including
my immortal druid boss and the gorgeous vampire sitting next to me.

Staring out of the window, I can see my ghostly reflection in the glass. I finger
my long bangs. Gone are the magenta highlights I’ve worn in my hair forever. My varying
layers now hang straight in solid sheets of jet-black. Jake had advised me to draw
less attention to myself. That almost makes me laugh out loud, even now. As if the
inky angel wings tattooed at the corner of my left eye and the massive dragon etched
into my back and down both of my arms aren’t enough of an attention grabber. I had
agreed, though, to axe the highlights for now. Besides, they were work to keep up
with. And they seemed to fit my lifestyle back in Savannah as master tattoo artist
and proprietor of Inksomnia. Back when life was easy and uncomplicated. Greasy Krystal
hamburgers and hot, melting Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Chick-O-Sticks and RC Cola. Boiled
peanuts. Crabs and oysters.

Nothing will ever be that easy again.

Jake Andorra recruited me to join an elite task force known as WUP, or Worldwide Unexplained
Phenomenon, a few months ago. Up until then I’d been a slayer of all things otherworldly
and dangerous—until I became both of those things myself. Now everything has changed.

I study the Edinburgh skyline as it emerges through a hazy gray mist. The heavy, salty
scent of the ocean—a smell that I’m very familiar with—seeps in through the cracks
of the car and infiltrates my nostrils as it rolls in from the North Sea. A small
slice of familiarity to keep me from missing home, from missing my little brother,
Seth, or my surrogate grandparents, Estelle and Preacher. Or my best friend, Nyx.
But this is my first task for WUP, and I have to give it my very best.

We’re in a steady stream of traffic as our convoy of four vehicles moves along the
M8 toward Edinburgh. We’d landed in Glasgow and met up with a man named Darius, who
now trails behind our Rover of Death, piloted by Peter the Insane, in another vehicle.
Although Darius helped save my life once before, I don’t know him well. He’s an ancient
immortal Pict warrior, and I mean ancient as in from the days of Merlin kind of ancient.
From what Jake tells me, Darius is a powerhouse of strength. Mind and body. But that’s
all I know. Behind Darius are two other elite WUP crew members: Ginger Slater and
Lucian MacLeod. The only werewolves I’ve ever met. Like Darius, I still have more
to learn about them.

In the final car are two people—or vampires, if you want to be exact—from home who
were also recruited to the Scotland task force. One, Noah Miles. Eli’s best friend
and head guardian of Charleston, South Carolina. A total bad-boy vamp who pushes every
single limit thrown his way. Easygoing and full of southern charm, it’s almost like
watching a magic show when he morphs into full-fledged fighting vampire. It’s a thing
of beauty. To me, anyway. And he’s saved my ass more times than I can count.

And then there’s Victorian Arcos. Our history is so complicated it could fill a book.
Even as I think about the strigoi vampire who bit me—whose DNA flows through my veins—I
have to look away from Eli. A scrutinizing look from him, and I can tell he knows
where my thoughts are.

I blow against the window and the glass fogs from my surprisingly still-warm breath.
Outside, the air is chilly, everything a stony gray. Because I have the ability to
hear things acutely miles and miles away, I have to work extra hard to tune everything
out and concentrate on just my thoughts. Of who and what I am. Of what’s become of
me.

I was bitten by not one vampire, but four in total. Three of those bites came from
deadly, powerful strigoi vampires. One came from Eli, simply because he wanted some
normal
vampire venom flowing through my body. Three were courtesy of the Arcoses, including
the one who now rides with us through the streets of Edinburgh. It makes things tense
between all of us, and it makes me . . . special. I carry a little of each of their
extraordinary traits. I’m not quite strigoi, yet there’s very little of the human
left in me now. But after that dream I just had, who the hell knows how much help
I can be here. What if the Fallen have the power to strip me of all my strigoi abilities?
I can’t even think that way now. I have to concentrate. Fight. Stay alive.

Eli’s fingers lace through mine and he squeezes my hand. He knows me so well; he’s
trying to distract me from thoughts that he knows disturb me.

Eligius Dupré. Deadly predator. Violent vampire. Fiercely loyal. And now he’s my fiancé.
My sensitive, hot, kick-ass vampire fiancé. We’ve been through a lot together. He
saved not only my life, but my brother’s as well. I owe him everything, and there’s
nothing I wouldn’t do for him. I’m almost a completely respectable woman now. Who
would’ve ever thought that I, Riley Poe, ex-gang member, troublemaking punk kid could
have a degree in art, own her own ink shop, and be engaged? How’s that for crazy?
We haven’t set a date yet, but I’m pretty sure we won’t even have time to think about
that until matters are finished here in Scotland.

I glance outside to check on our progress, and we are much closer to the city. Tall
dark spires and ancient stone architecture poke through the mist, and the formidable
Edinburgh Castle looms above Old Town in its gloomy, ominous splendor. I’d Googled
the city to familiarize myself with it, and I admit: it’s pretty freaking cool. Even
knowing evil resides here and what we face in taking that evil down doesn’t deter
me from wanting to check it all out for myself. Scottish history seems interesting
and this place is loaded with it. So says Jake.

Peter exits the M8, and in minutes we’re weaving through the narrow streets of Edinburgh.
I stare at the old architecture, the people. It all looks so normal, like any medieval-born
European city that I’ve seen in books. Everything’s made of dark, aged stone, and
it’s easy to imagine horses, carts, and people from times past wandering the streets
and throwing buckets of pee out of the windows. If I didn’t know evil lurked in the
shadows, I’d never guess it was here.

But it is here. Dormant for now, but just below the surface. And they’re waiting for
us. The Black Fallen. And after that short dream, I feel they know me. I’d better
watch my ass good.

Peter takes a turn that I’m pretty sure sets the Rover on two wheels, and my hand
tightens against the strap once more. From the front seat Jake chuckles. My eyes follow
the cars coming toward us as we drive on the opposite side of the road, the city’s
notorious black cabs littering the cobbled streets and zooming past us. My brain won’t
accept it yet. It’s just weird to be on the other side of the road. Yet I have this
insane desire to give it a try and take a drive myself. Maybe later. After we’ve taken
care of business.

Merchant storefronts line the street, most with their own quirky, painted signs hanging
above the entranceways. A bakery.
Yes!
My stomach growls at the thought of what lies in the display cases. And there’s a
chip shop—battered, fried fish and fried potato deliciousness. A corner market swings
into view. As we pass by storefront after storefront, I wonder if any of them are
the place Jake mentioned: a restaurant with take-out ice cream. Vittoria’s. It’s on
my list of places to find first.

Jake has informed us that Gabriel, another WUP member and an immortal Pict like Darius,
will meet us and introduce us to Old and New Town Edinburgh. Gabriel is WUP’s Edinburgh
contact and has been here since before the organization was even formed. He knows
the streets, backward and forward. I hope I don’t get lost. Savannah is easy. It’s
not a big city at all and is easily navigable via the town squares. I’m thinking this
will be a little tougher. I’m ready, though. I like a challenge.

Peter turns onto a one-way cobbled drive and squeezes the Rover under a stone arch
with an aged plate sign that says O
LD
T
OLBOOTH
W
YND.
I want to close my eyes, the Rover is so close to the sides of the archway. Instead,
I glance behind us at the other WUP vehicles.

“Tight fit, aye?” Old Peter says with a cackling laugh.

I meet his twinkling gaze in the rearview mirror. “You barely squeaked by,” I answer.

Peter and Jake both chuckle. Eli shakes his head and grins at me.

Once through the arch, the cobbled path opens up to a small, ancient, bricked courtyard
flanked by a weathered wrought-iron double gate, which stands open. Through the gates
the path winds around a stone fountain. I check out my immediate surroundings. Behind
the fountain is an old, narrow, crescent-shaped stone building, three stories high
and flagged with windows. Several steps rise to the red double doors.