Scion's Freedom (Siren Publishing Classic)
Scion’s Freedom
As the Scion of the House of Dracul, vampire princess Cassy Daniels just wants a simple, royal-free life in New Atlanta. It’s been thirty years since The Fall, when the world’s economy collapsed. Although supernatural creatures are helping to rebuild society, Cassy remains in hiding to avoid an arranged marriage.
When her journalist bodyguard and best friend, Erica, is assassinated, she flees for her life with the help of Detective David Ashe. He’s reluctant at first. She used him a few weeks prior. However, she’s the sole survivor of a serial killing and his only lead. Something about David is magnetic and Cassy falls for him hard.
Can they find Erica’s killer before he finds them? Can David forgive her past enough to love her? Can the Council of Crones, a coven of elder witches, provide more insight as to who is hunting Cassy and why? Will she survive the assassination attempts and still hold on to the man she loves?
Genre:
Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length:
47,063 words
J. Annas Walker
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
SCION’S FREEDOM
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-397-3
First E-book Publication: September 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Scion’s Freedom
by J. Annas Walker from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
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It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Walker’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
Thanks to my husband, Derrick, my sisters, Jennifier and Kate, and Aunt Rita, for being such great cheerleaders.
SCION’S FREEDOM
J. ANNAS WALKER
Copyright © 2012
Click-click-clack
. The dead bolt slid home. Her purse and briefcase hit the floor with a heavy thump. Leaning against the door, Cassandra Daniels, Cassy, pulled off one high heel and then the other only to give them a toss toward the living room. Her tan dress suit jacket soon followed. She inhaled deeply, held it to the count of three, and let it out slow. Snagging a ponytail holder off the counter, she pulled up her waist-length chocolate-brown tresses. It was Friday at long last, and the work week was at an end.
She could tell her roommate was out of the apartment. It was as quiet as a tomb. Everything was neat and clean. The sofa cushions were plumped and ready for her to come home. The two-bedroom flat was plain but comfortable. Erica Jordan had been a well-trained lady’s maid back in the day.
Cassy snagged the remote off the ottoman and turned on the news. Without looking at the flat-screen television, she wandered off to the kitchen. There was almost nothing in the refrigerator. The cold white wire shelves held only a box of baking soda, a couple of canned drinks, and a bottle of red wine. Frowning, she pulled out the wine and debated not bothering with a glass. In the end, the glass won out. You can take the girl out of the manor house, but not the manor house out of the girl.
Seated on the couch, Cassy watched as inane chattering about this celebrity or that winning some award or wearing a certain designer passed. The cut-and-pasted reporters all looked the same, fake. She sipped her wine through the weather report with her nylon-clad feet on the ottoman and did her best not to think. It had been a hard week.
Cassy owned an employment agency specializing in locating work for members of the nighttime paranormal community. Nocturnal Staffing usually did a great deal of business. However, with the softening economy, job orders were not flowing as freely as they once did. It broke Cassy’s heart to have to turn someone away. Not every supernatural creature was wealthy. Even the undead or inhuman had to work for a living, so to speak. This week she only received nine orders with two hundred applicants plus those already on her books, including the humans.
Out in the hall, Cassy could hear keys jingling. The brass locks clicked and clacked free. The door swung in, banging into the small eat-in bar that separated the galley kitchen from the small living room. A box-toting Erica strode in with a huff to blow a long, loose curly blonde lock out of her face. Her purse straps were trapped in her teeth. She dropped it on the floor with as heavy a thump as Cassy’s had.
“Honey! I’m home!” A playful smile curled her lips. Her steel- gray eyes hinted at something mischievous. “So, are you going?” She sat the box down on the counter and leaned on the sofa arm. “Hummm? Are you?” Like Cassy, Erica pulled up her mid-back-length hair into a ponytail with a soft band from her pocket. Her hair was so curly that as she walked it bounced as though it were alive.
“I don’t think so. Don’t you think at our age it is a bit silly to dress up and party?” Cassy was tired. Erica was a journalist. She didn’t have to spend every night around sad people sucking the energy out of her. “I just want to go to bed.”
Erica clasped her hands together and put them to her chest. “Samhain Night is tomorrow. You have to come out and celebrate. Please? Pleeeeeease? Just think about it.”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a costume, and it’s a bit late to get one. Besides, I could use a night’s rest,” Cassy explained. She had never embraced the modern version of Halloween.
“You could borrow one of mine. When was the last time you went out and got loose? I’m not saying you have to be reckless. Just come out for a drink or two. Who knows? You may even have a good time. We live in an apartment building. You know every kid in a three-block radius is going to come banging on the door. You aren’t going to get any rest with them knocking like a SWAT team.”
“All right. I’ll think about it.” Cassy caved. Erica was right. There would be no peace, regardless of where she was. Erica’s smile spread even wider. She knew the battle was won.
“Yeah! I brought home dinner and some files from work for safekeeping. Do you mind warming up the food whilst I put away my treasure hoard?” Erica giggled. The box’s contents made her very happy. Cassy could only surmise someone else was about to be very unhappy when whatever it contained made the headlines.
“Sure. Let me change into a pair of sweats. No reason to ruin a good suit with food stains.”
In her room, Cassy dug out a pair of black jogging pants and her favorite oversized T-shirt. Socks replaced the nylons. She washed the makeup from her face. The base gave her the appearance of being more alive, a trait that helped to settle the human clients’ nerves. The mirror reflected back her pasty pale skin and silver-gray eyes. Her high cheekbones and Romanesque nose lost some definition with the powder and paint removed. The chocolate hair made the paleness of her skin seem more stark white than creamy pale.
Cassy went to the kitchen to heat the takeout. She watched the microwave whirl around and around. The last generic white foam container appeared to twirl in place. Beeping signaled dinner was ready. Food smells filled the kitchen, causing Cassy’s fangs to drop down in anticipation and drew Erica from her bedroom.
“Oh, good. I’m starved. I skipped lunch.” Erica laughed, showing her fangs.
“I didn’t, but smelling this is having the same effect as if I did. Where did you go for this?”
Erica pulled spoons from the drawer. “Bloody Mary’s.”
“What’s Bloody Mary’s? Sounds like a bar,” Cassy asked.
“What’s Bloody Mary’s? It’s only the hottest new restaurant in New Atlanta. We really need to get you out into the world more,” Erica smiled.
“I like my world just fine, thanks,” Cassy sniffed.
She had almost always lived in the same place, even before The Fall. Atlanta was a bustling city before the world had gone all to hell. Tall buildings, smog, and terrible traffic were the norm. Since the economic collapse and the horrors that followed, New Atlanta had risen from the ashes. Not every city had. These days the tall buildings were mostly empty or in need of demolition. Rebuilding was taking place, but the pace was slow. Technologies were coming back into use, increasing the slow pace as they came on line.
With no money and not enough skilled tradespeople, the country was in dire trouble. The supernatural communities approached what was left of the government and offered to help in exchange for full citizenship and acknowledgement of their right to exist. An agreement was struck and every branch of the supernatural came into the light, or rather the nightlight. Most kept their schedules to the dark hours and left the daytime to the humans. Cassy’s agency had placed many stonemasons and carpenters with centuries of experience for night projects.