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By Jocelynn Drake

A brand new day dawns blood crimson A grasp of fireplace, Mira is the final wish for the realm. for hundreds of years she has secretly enforced the history-altering edicts of the Triad. Now she and her not going ally—the human vampire hunter, Danaus—have come to Venice, domestic of the nightwalker rulers. yet there is not any security within the old urban, for the specter of clash is within the wind . . . with unholy alliances and earth-shattering betrayals taking hideous shape within the shadows. Banished for eons past the world's obstacles, the malevolent naturi arrange to feed once more upon a weak earth—and treachery is establishing vast the portal that would permit their dread re-emergence. the good conflict that has regularly been Mira's future is looming, and she or he needs to stay strong within the face of a surprising revelation: that Danaus, the one creature she dares to belief, is whatever greater than the fellow he claims to be . . .

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I’d take back the Browning and Glock if forced to hunt the naturi again. For now, I didn’t have a clue about the Coven’s plans, but I knew that Rowe wouldn’t give up on his plan to break the seal just because I had thwarted him once. The naturi was going to try again, and I suspected the Coven would “request” that I be the one to stop him again. Tristan descended the stairs last, carrying both of our bags with ease. He was lowest on the totem pole so he got to play the part of pack mule. It wasn’t fair, but we were protecting him and that task was more easily done without a bag on your shoulder.

We had survived the day but still had to face the Elders. Tristan lifted his hand to touch my cheek, but I jerked away from his fingertips and frowned. “I thought you might enjoy some company,” he said gently. His open hand remained hovering in the air near my cheek, waiting for my permission to resume its descent. For a second I honestly wished I could accept his proposition. The curtains were still drawn and the room was quiet as a marble mausoleum in February. But a few stolen moments of bliss in his arms wouldn’t chase away our fears regarding the Coven.

I pulled it out of the scabbard a little and discovered that it was a double-edged broadsword in exquisite condition. Actually, it was a sort of hybrid, with an elongated hilt common to a hand-and-a-half sword. The strap on the scabbard was designed so I could secure it across my chest and draw the sword from over my shoulder. I looked up to find him shaking his head, a smiling haunting his lips. ” A smirk twisted my mouth and I raised both eyebrows at him. Danaus rarely used a gun, and the way he held a sword made me think he’d been born with one in his hand.

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