SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (120 page)

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Authors: Erin Quinn,Caridad Pineiro,Erin Kellison,Lisa Kessler,Chris Marie Green,Mary Leo,Maureen Child,Cassi Carver,Janet Wellington,Theresa Meyers,Sheri Whitefeather,Elisabeth Staab

Tags: #12 Tales of Shapeshifters, #Vampires & Sexy Spirits

BOOK: SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits
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Then Amber gave them one last command.


You will bring that vampire hunter back here to us, where we will take care of rescuing the dragon from her body and raising him to his proper place. Do not kill the body in which the dragon is residing. We reserve that honor after we perform the extraction on the vampire hunter. Is that clear?

The other two nodded without pause, but Lilly fought it, merely to show Amber that she could not be controlled.

But, indeed, she could be, and she found herself nodding, as well.

Then, as if she were on those commanding strings, Lilly dropped to all fours, her back hunched, waiting just long enough for her other two partners to join her. She was all but panting to leave now, the magic firing through her.

“Go,” said Amber.

They all burst into a zoom of speed, away from the bonfire, loping over the grassy hill, bloodthirsty cries coming out of Lilly’s throat and cutting through the night as they all shot toward the master.

And toward Dawn Madison, the vampire hunter who carried him as her passenger.

 

* * *

 

Dawn didn’t sleep much these days.

Maybe she hadn’t ever gotten much shut-eye, but lately, it was like she was on a drug called NeverSleep—an invention karma had created just for her.

As the grandfather clock downstairs in the beach house she shared with Costin struck ten thirty, she leaned back in the desk chair in the ornate study where she’d been going over some notes from a cold case that Kiko Daniels, her former vamp hunting buddy, had given her.

A man looking for a high school sweetheart. Touching, but it wasn’t nearly as save-the-world as she was used to. Kiko, the psychic private dick, and his new wife Natalia, who had the same talents, were only trying to engage Dawn in the more normal life they’d found since their last brush with the paranormal. But why even bother with her?

Idly, she swung around in the swiveling chair, which was a mistake, because it put her in full view of the long mirror across the room—the one that tilted downward while stretching over the fireplace mantel like a sentinel, always reminding her of who she was.

By now, she was used to the sight that greeted her. Besides the long dark hair and brown eyes she’d always had, there were the black marks on the left side of her face that made it look like she had fallen asleep and a kid had gotten a hold of a Sharpie then decided to create a network of tattoos.

That’s what you got when you were an ex-vampire hunter with a temper, though. Near the end of her illustrious career, she’d developed some latent psychokinetic powers that had gone bad. Or, more to the point, anger had made them go bad, and that rage had started to come out as these lovely beauty spots.

Three cheers for that. Yet that was nothing when you took a look at her right side, where her face was littered with red spots. That was where the dragon’s blood had hit her when she’d attacked him during the London Underground battle. But the head vampire hadn’t just given her some pretty crimson spatterwear for her skin. Hell, no—his blood had seeped
under
her flesh, into the deepest parts of her.

Toward her soul stain…

Guess who’s about to show up outside Dawn’s window? You got it—Lilly Meratoliage.

 

 

 

A SHADOW AT TWILIGHT

 

by Mary Leo

 

 

 

Table of Contents for A SHADOW AT TWILIGHT

 

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

 

Dear Reader

About the Author: Mary Leo

Books by Mary Leo

Romancing Rudy Raindear – Preview Chapter

 

 

A Shadow at Twilight: Chapter One

 

 

Dillon Spencer picked up his briefcase, made sure he had his phone and walked out of his office at Spencer and Spencer, the law practice he and his father owned in the heart of Los Angeles. He had loaded his briefcase with documents his father wanted him to go over, but in reality, Dillon didn’t anticipate going over anything other than a few snow-covered mountains. For the next two weeks, he would be on a much needed vacation in Colorado and intended not to think about law or anything even remotely connected to the elements of law for fourteen blissful days.

“Good night, Mr. Spencer,” his assistant Hilly Thompson told him as he walked by her desk.

“I take it everything is in place for my vacation?”

He already knew the answer to the question, but wanted to hear her lovely voice once more before he left.

“Of course, Mr. Spencer. There’s a limo waiting for you in the garage that will take you directly to the airport. I’ve already had your luggage boarded on your plane, along with your winter coat and scarf. There will be a car waiting for you when you land. Your room is booked and the newspapers and breakfast muffins have been ordered for each day of your stay.”

“Hilly, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Thank you, Mister Spencer.”

Her sweet voice trailed off as Dillon walked to the elevator at the end of the hallway. He wasn’t the kind of boss who chatted with his employees or got to know their personal lives. He didn’t have time for that, and besides, the honest truth was that if he ever got to know Hilly better he would probably fall in love with her and there was no way that could ever happen. She was too valuable as his assistant. No, it just wasn’t meant to be.

At twenty-nine, Dillon considered himself at the top of his game and he simply couldn't afford to be with a woman who might jeopardize his ability to focus ninety-five percent of his time on his job. Logic dictated that when the time came for him to settle down it would be with someone who could do something for his career, not simply make his life easier, a woman who could add clients to his firm, who was a brilliant litigator and had a sharp mind for law. That woman was Nanette Larson, of Larson, Madison and Bradly. At one point, Nanette was his fierce competitor until she and her husband divorced and Dillon’s father recommended that he charm her into marriage.

Dillon had carefully considered all of the ramifications of marrying someone he didn’t love just to advance his career and decided it was worth the risk. He and Nanette had gotten engaged two months ago and were planning on a spring wedding.

Everything was in place for a perfect life. He and Nanette had decided to sell their million-dollar condos and buy one double in size so they could better entertain their potential clients and friends.

His one fly in the perfectly white ointment was Hilly Thompson.

He’d been attracted to Hilly from the first day she’d stepped into his office looking for a job, the attraction hitting him hard, but he prided himself in his staunch ability for self-control and had worked hard to remain somewhat aloof to Hilly, which was his practice with most of his employees. There was no mixing business and pleasure in the law firm, a strict rule his father had enforced years ago, and Dillon had more than amply adhered to that policy. His one diversion from his father’s strict policies was to send his own direct reports a birthday greeting each year. Not that he had to personally do anything for it. Hilly had set up a program that automatically did all the work for him, and then she sent him a text when the gift and card were on their way.

The woman was a godsend of an assistant, absolutely priceless. He honestly didn’t think he could function without her.

Still, lately, now that he was on his way to the altar, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her . . . and wondering what her skin felt like, or the taste of her full lips, or the scent of her hair or . . . .

The elevator doors opened. Dillon hesitated for a moment, then returned to Hilly’s desk.

 

* * *

 

Hilly’s phone rang at exactly ten-forty-seven p.m. She knew this because she had just climbed into bed, set her alarm, turned on the TV, and took a bite of the last of her birthday cake, a three layer, chocolate dream with raspberry filling and a rich chocolate frosting . . . her absolute favorite. The cake and the party which celebrated her turning twenty-eight, had been a surprise. Unfortunately, Hilly hadn’t been able to attend the festivities due to the fact that her over-bearing, demanding boss had insisted she ride along with him to the airport so he could personally dictate the list of tasks he expected her to complete before he returned from his annual Colorado vacation.

Thus, her birthday party had gone on without her. Afterwards, her best friend, Sarah, had stopped by with the leftover cake and presents. All of which had made her cry, which caused Sarah to give her yet another lecture on Dillon Spencer which always ended with the same refrain. “You’re working for an asshole.”

As if Hilly didn’t already know this, but every time she even considered quitting, Dillon would give her a ridiculously high raise and she’d stay.

In Hilly’s world, money was king, especially since her parents and little sister depended on her for the roof over their heads. Her dad had lost everything when the recession hit and was never able to regain his footing. He worked whenever he could, so did her mom, but between the two of them, if Hilly didn’t pay their mortgage they wouldn’t have enough money to eat. Her last raise and bonus was enough to upgrade their old kitchen and move Hilly into a new condo with an actual private patio.

She really couldn’t complain . . . much.

It wasn’t as if Dillon was a tyrant twenty-four/seven. He definitely had his moments when he was kind, understanding and downright sweet.

This just didn’t happen to be one of those moments.

Plus, he’d obviously already forgotten that she’d be out for the next two weeks on her own vacation—ironically, to the same state—he’d approved her time off only days before. It was more that Dillon Spencer simply didn’t care about her personal life, what there was of it. Like Sarah always told her:
Dillon is consumed with Dillon and nothing and no one else matters.

Not even his fiancée, Nanette Larson. No matter how much Nanette had tried to coerce Dillon into inviting her on this vacation, Dillon had refused to give in.

Hilly knew this because she’d overheard the many arguments they’d had at the office. Not that she had purposely listened in, but the door always seemed to be open, and after all, her desk was less than five feet away.

In all the years Hilly had worked for Spencer and Spencer, and it was going on five, he had never taken anyone with him to Colorado. It was the one event in his overcrowded life that he kept totally private and separate from even his father, Frank Spencer, who seemed to have his fingers in everything concerning Dillon.

It had been at Frank’s insistence that Dillon had proposed to Nanette, at least that was the rumor around the law firm. Hell, everybody knew it was Frank who had introduced them.

Hilly swallowed the bite of incredibly good cake and washed it down with some of the whole milk she liked to drink before bedtime, then she answered her phone.

Of course it was Dillon.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Spencer?”

“No, actually. It isn’t.”

He sounded tense, as if something really bad had happened. Hilly leaned forward as adrenalin shot though her. She squared her shoulders, and prepared herself for the worst.

“How can I help?”

Although she would do just about anything he asked her to do, she hoped whatever he needed didn’t require her having to get dressed and go anywhere.

“For one thing, I asked for a sedan and all this fly-by-night rental car company has to offer is an SUV. I thought I told you several times that I did not want an SUV.”

She let out the breath she’d held in anticipation, and relaxed against the wooden headboard. They went through this almost every year. She’d ask him the type of car he wanted waiting for him when he stepped off his private jet in Colorado. He’d tell her. She’d secure it, and then he’d promptly forget what he’d ordered and ask for something else.

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