The Master lunged and thrust. Bryan parried and followed with a fierce attack, both swords swinging. The Master deflected each blow, and they both fell back, pausing as an unholy howling tore across the sky.
Bryan thought he saw a frown briefly flicker across the Master"s brow.
He almost smiled. "Werewolf," he said with a shrug. "One that chews nasty vampires to little bits and spits them out."
The Master thrust forward in a fury of motion. Bryan neatly ducked and struck back, sending one of the creature"s weapons flying.
He lunged swiftly and expertly, trying to seize the advantage. The Master moved, as well, but not before Bryan caught his shoulder with the tip of his blade. A snarl of fury rose to the Master"s lips as he clutched his shoulder.
"Hanging around with werewolves? Slumming it, for a warrior, aren"t you?" the Master taunted.
"You know, this really is a brave new world," he said. "It seems we can all get past our prejudices." The Master roared, feinted, then whirled, attempting to pick up his lost weapon. He managed the feat, and with his next strike, he caught Bryan in the arm.
Pain ripped through Bryan. He ignored it and bided his time.
"Come on, come on, let me finish this," the Master chided. "I will slice and bleed you, warrior. I will torture you, and I will force you to watch her burn, before I finish you.
Bryan saw Jessica move then. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stir. She was alive.
With a burst of speed, he tore into the Master, swords flying in a crisscross pattern. The creature leapt back, but too late. Bryan caught his arm, and again a sword went flying.
The sword never got a chance to hit the ground. Jessica was there, the wind whipping her hair, catching the folds of the cape. She might have been the G.o.ddess of justice. And she was holding the Master"s sword.
"Lose something?" she taunted.
Again, he let out a cry of rage, and like a maddened bull, he leapt toward her. She raised the sword, parried his blow. He turned, going after Bryan again.
Bryan spun, catching the Master a solid blow in the midriff. Not a killing blow, but one that drained the creature of strength, forcing him to pause.
The Master let out a bone-chilling scream of rage, as if he believed that he could force Bryan to cower from the sound alone.
But Bryan only smiled. "I should torture you. Slice and bleed you for the agony and suffering you have brought to so many on this earth. But it"s far more important that you die, that you be eliminated at last. Although," he said, taking a step forward, "I would like to skin you alive and roast each piece."
"b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You will die slowly," the Master swore his rage propelling him forward.
Bryan stood still, waiting. Then he leapt neatly aside and swung his swords together in a huge arc.
Something flew through the night.
The Master"s head.
It arced upward, a living thing for the beat of a second, its scowl of rage hideous. Then it burst into dust, just like the body that lay at Bryan"s feet.
He stood, stunned. It was over. Really over. Then he heard her cry out his name as she raced into his arms. He buried his face against her hair. "Igrainia."
It would be the last time he called her by that name.
Epilogue.
C ool jazz filled the air. The crowds in the streets were slightly rowdy, but Bryan knew Jessica was always happiest when her city was doing well, so he ignored the noise from outside. For the first time in perhaps forever, he was completely relaxed.
So what if a werewolf was buying the beers? And half of his new best friends were mostly vampires? At least a few were actually human.Jessica was watching the band with a smile. Big Jim smiled back, and so did Barry Larson, who seemed to exude a newfound confidence.
No lives had been lost in Scotland. He considered that something of a miracle, but those fighting with him just called it a good night"s work. The authorities had found a bunch of crazed kids running around and chalked it up to drugs.
Some would remember the truth. Some would learn from it. Some would spend the rest of their lives in therapy. But at least they had lives.
As for Mary, that had been tricky, but he had to admit that she had developed a real pa.s.sion for good, so a story had been invented.
She showed up at the police station one day, claiming amnesia. Only seeing her own picture on television had reminded her of who she was.
Sean, sitting between Jessica and Maggie, looked thoughtful, unhappy.
"What"s the matter?" Maggie asked him "We lost two really good cops," he said sadly. "Nothing can ever change that."
Jessica"s brow furrowed. "It was not your fault. Don"t even start that."
Just then the werewolf appeared with the beers.
"Hey, Jessica, are you going to design your own wedding dress?" Maggie asked.
Jessica choked on her beer. "Maggie, no one"s asked me to marry him."
Maggie stared at Bryan. He felt a smile curving his lips, and he stared at Jessica. "What do you think?" he asked softly. "Can a warrior and a vampire find happiness in this day and age?" he inquired.
She looked back at him, her eyes grave. "I don"t know. What do you think?"
He rose, taking her hand. "I don"t know. But we can all learn new things, right?" He pulled her up and into his arms. "I do know that I will love you for eternity," he whispered.
She kissed his lips.
And the jazz played on.
It was, after all, New Orleans.
Turn the page for an exciting excerpt from THE DEAD ROOM,.
the next paranormal novel by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham.
Available in March 2007, only from MIRA Books T here had been an explosion, she thought. Someone had screamed something about gas, and then a blast had seemed to rock the world. Yes, she could remember now, the feeling of being lifted, of flying...slamming hard against the wall. But...she wasn"t leaning against the wall now.
She was looking down on a scene of absolute chaos. And she was in it.
She could see herself, who had been taken and placed in a line of sleeping people. She didn"t recognize any of them. Matt...
where was Matt? Others were hurrying around the room, moving with purpose. They were all in uniform, firemen and cops. The freshly painted walls of the room were blackened and scorched almost to the doorway, evidence of the blast.
She hurt! Oh, G.o.d, she ached in every bone. The scent of charred wood-worse, charred flesh-filled her nostrils. She remembered the terrible sound, the way she had been lifted and thrown as the room was rocked by the explosion.
Now she looked down on herself, contemplated the others near and realized that the people she was lying with weren"t sleeping.
They were dead.
She could see the open, glazed eyes of the woman beside her. And then she realized that a man was hunched down beside her own body. And it wasn"t Matt. The man had his fingers against her throat. Feeling for a pulse?
"This one is alive!"
Of course I"m alive.
There was sudden confusion.
People rushing over to her. Shouting.
"Quick! Move or we"ll lose her! Her pulse is fading."
People rushed around her. She couldn"t see past them to see what was happening.
"Clear!"
She felt fire in her chest.
Every bone in her body seemed to be in sudden, raw, agony. She knew she needed to open her eyes, to rake in a desperate breath.
She blinked.
"We"ve got her! She"s back."
And she was. Back in her body, looking up at her rescuers, no longer staring down at the scene.
Recollection and awareness filled her, and her awareness of the scene around her was acute, agonizing.
There were four bodies against the wall. And one of them belonged to Matt.
Suddenly, there was no confusion, just knowledge.
Matt was dead.She started to choke, to scream....
"Calm down," a medic said. "You"re alive, and we"ve got to keep you that way."
Alive? Not really, not if Matt...
"No, you"ve got to help Matt. He"s alive. I was just talking to him. You"ve got to help him. Help him!"
She saw the distress in the medic"s eyes. "I"m so sorry...."
Matt...
She was vaguely aware of a needle in her arm.
Then there was only darkness.
ISBN: 1-55254-575-X.
KISS OF DARKNESS.
Copyright 2006 Heather Graham Pozzessere.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same nameor names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
www.MIRABooks.com
About the Author.
Heather grew up in Dade County, Florida, and attended the University of South Florida at Tampa, majoring in theater arts and touring Europe and parts of Asia and Africa as part of her studies. After college, she acted in dinner theaters, modeled, waitressed, and tended bar. After the birth of her third child, she was determined to devote her efforts to her writing: her dream.
She sold her first book in 1982.
Today, this author"s success is reflected not just by reader response and the over 20 million copies of her books in print, but in many other ways. In addition to being a New York Times bestselling author, Heather has received numerous awards for her novels, including over 20 trade awards from magazines such as Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur, bestseller awards from B.
Dalton, Waldenbooks, and BookRak, and several Reviewers" Choice and People"s Choice awards.Heather has appeared on Entertainment Tonight, Romantically Speaking, a TV talk show that aired nationwide on the Romance Cla.s.sics cable channel, and CBS Sunday News. She has been quoted in People and USA Today, been profiled in The Nation, and featured in Good Housekeeping. Her books have been selections for the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild. She has been published across the world in more than 15 languages and has published over 70 t.i.tles, including anthologies and short stories.
Somehow, this prolific author manages to juggle it all-family, career, and marriage-while reaching a level of success to which few can aspire.
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