Valorian Chronicles - Book Four:
The Vampire's Quest
Silhouette NocturneISBN-10: 0373618085
ISBN-13: 978-0373618088
Available April 1, 2009
"This is a fantastic supernatural thriller from start to finish. Anna takes two supernatural beings and makes us believe the romance and attraction between them are real."—TOP PICK by Romantic Times Magazine
"THE VAMPIRE'S QUEST is a great thriller as ironically time is running out on the lead male when he used to have all the time in the world at a time he has found his life mate."
—Harriet Klausner, Professional Reviewer
In a race against life and death, one woman holds the key to sanity and salvation...
After escaping from the Otherworld Crime Unit, Kellen Falcon came to Nouveau Monde to crack a rare blood disease. But the European hotbed of temptation yielded sport no vampire could resist—criminologist Sophie St. Clair. And with only days to live, Kellen sought sweet release from her to escape a savage past.
The lycan beauty wasn't one to stray from her pact. But an investigation into a downtown bombing now tied the two together. And it wasn't long before Kellen's smoldering eyes and Sophie's fierce desire for this vampire put her loyalties to the test...
The orchestra music playing in the elevator as it ascended to the ninth floor of the Nouveau-Monde medical center was driving Kellen Falcon mad. Or it could have been the disease rushing through his veins had finally pushed him over the edge.
The other people in the little metal box must've noticed his growing agitation as they were pressed against the walls away from him. It couldn't possibly be his appearance anymore. He ran a hand through his newly grown-in brown hair. It was quite a change from his usual bald palette. All his peircings were gone; his body couldn't tolerate the metal invasion any longer. And his tattoos were fading. His skin shed the ink like a snake sheds its skin.
He looked as common as everyone else now. Sometimes he had to admit that looking in the mirror freaked him out. Gone was the crazy-looking vampire with issues. His recently acquired blood disorder took care of all that.
He'd been in the Otherworlder European city for five days now but it was enough for the culture shock to grate on his nerves. Usually a carefree, whatever-makes-you-happy, kind of guy, Kellen found the laid-back meandering of the city strangely annoying. Even the quaint architecture and cobblestone streets bothered him. Walking out from his small rented room in the picturesque downtown square, he'd expected horse and buggies everywhere, ambling down the old-world narrow roads. Maybe it was because he was used to the constant rush of living in America. Or his Sangcerritus was getting progressively worse—the reason he was in Nouveau-Monde.
After being diagnosed with the rare blood disease months ago, Kellen had conducted a lot of research and found that there were a couple of doctors who were leading experts on it-doctors from Nouveau-Monde. There had even been talk of a possible cure.
He didn't dare hope for that much. He was merely looking for a way to alleviate the symptoms, so he could lead some semblance of an ordinary life again. Or as ordinary as a 180 year-old vampire could get.
The elevator dinged pleasantly announcing his arrival at the ninth floor and the doors slid open. Kellen stepped out into a lavishly decorated lobby welcoming people to the Hematology department. It lost its affect on him. A young, impeccably dressed woman sat at the impressive semi-circle raised platform desk smiling and nodding to people as they passed by.
When he neared, she smiled brightly, the white of her descended fangs nearly blinding him. "Bonsoir. Peux-je vous aider?"
"Bonsoir. I'm looking for Dr. Bueller's office."
She gestured to Kellen's left. "His office is just down this hall, second door on the right hand side," she said in accented English.
She smiled again and this time there was a gleam in her beautiful green eyes. An invitation. On another day, in what seemed a lifetime ago, he would've jumped at the chance to practice his art of seduction with the alluring French woman. But now given his circumstance he just wanted to live. The clock was ticking loudly in his mind.
"Merci," he said, then made his way down the hall. He swore he heard a sigh of disappointment in his wake.
Reaching the second open door, he was yet again greeted by a huge lobby area announcing the offices of Dr. Jonathon Bueller. Another young woman sat at the main counter, grinning as he approached. The big difference here was that she was human which surprised him.
He wasn't quite used to the idea that humans and Otherworlders lived in relative peace and harmony in Nouveau-Monde. He'd almost jumped out of his skin the first time he'd seen a human walking down the street near his hotel hand in hand with a lycan. Even to someone as out of place as he was, the coupling was strange.
"Bonsoir."
He nodded. "Kellen Falcon to see Dr. Bueller."
She glanced at her computer scene, typed something, then looked back at him, handing him a clipboard with a form attached to it. "If you could have a seat and fill this out."
Kellen took the clipboard and sat down in the far corner near the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the impressive Seine River. As he filled out the innocuous form, he stared through the glass at the vivid green park running along the riverbank. The evening shadows were playing along the edges reminding him of puppets on strings.
Nouveau-Monde was certainly beautiful, with its lush park areas and old world charm. Having grown up in New Orleans circa the early 1800's he'd been surrounded by French culture and styles his whole life. So, a few sexy accents and architectural gems didn't sway him much.
But still there was something about the place that resonated in him. The fact that humans lived and worked in and around the city interested him. It was a scathing difference between here and Necropolis where the Otherworlders were caged like inmates, and the humans on the outside cowered in fear and ignorance. Europe had always been more progressive and ahead of the times. His kind of place.
He'd also heard from the gentleman he rented the room from that the nightlife in the city was spectacular. He didn't know if he'd feel up to trying a few clubs, although he sure could use a few drinks to try to relax. He'd been craving a distraction for months now. With no such success.
After completing the form, he handed it back to the receptionist then sat back down to wait for his appointment. There were five other people in the waiting room, all vampires, save for one out-of-place lycan. Kellen wondered what kind of blood disease he had. He didn't think lycans could contract diseases, well, despite the one they already possessed that changed them into a wolf every now and then.
Thinking about lycans made him nostalgic about Necropolis and the Otherworld Crime Unit he'd worked with for the past six years. After being diagnosed with the disease, he had applied for an undetermined leave of absence and booked a flight out to France. Although he didn't think any of the team missed him too much. The last year hadn't been his best. On a few occasions he'd come head to head with various members of the team, especially the chief, Caine Valorian.
They hadn't known about his disease—why he was constantly lashing out or projecting an air of extreme ambivalence. Then again, neither had he at the time. He thought that his irritation had been caused by the fact that, well, most of the team members were irritating.
Once his problem was under control, he wondered if he'd be able to go back to work with them. Leaning back in the chair and glancing out the window at the darkening indigo sky, Kellen considered the fact that maybe he didn't want to. He bet he could find work here with no problem. He certainly didn't need the money, as he'd amassed enough over the past one hundred years. Maybe a change in scenery was just what he needed to heal. To get his life back on track, instead of just existing from one day to the next.
A few bars of a hardcore metal song thumped from his jean pocket. He fished out his cell phone and flipped it open. "Falcon."
"How's Europe? Are they trying to deport you, yet?"
Kellen smirked at the humor in Caine's voice. The chief was usually not one for jokes. "Not yet. Give me a few more days."
Caine's haughty chuckle suddenly made him feel homesick.
"Monsieur. Monsieur."
Kellen glanced at the receptionist. She was motioning to him with the wave of her pen.
"Hold on, Caine." He put his hand over the phone. "Yeah?"
"No cell phones, please." She pointed to the sign by her desk, the one with a big red X over a picture of a cell phone.
Waving that he understood, Kellen stood and wandered out of the office and down the hall, then said into the phone, "Are you still there?"
"Yes. What happened? Did you get kicked out of somewhere?"
"Yeah, my doctor's office. I guess they don't like cell phones around all their fancy electrical equipment."
The vampiress at the main reception desk smiled at him as he leaned against the wall near her. He nodded at her.
"How's it going?"
Kellen appreciated Caine's query into his health. They hadn't parted on the best of terms after Caine had accused him of blowing up the lab. "It's my first appointment. I'll know more after I talk to this guy."
"Okay. You'll call when you find out?"
"Yeah." He ran a hand over his head, feeling strange about Caine's concern. Not exactly good friends, Kellen could count on one hand the number of times they'd ever engaged in a personal conversation. But he had to admit, he liked that the chief had called with questions into his health. Made him feel a little less alone.
Static filled his ear. Pushing away from the wall, Kellen turned the phone in his hand. "Caine?"
"Yeah, I'm here. I can barely hear you though." More static crackled through the line.
"There's a lot of interference in here. I'll call you later." Kellen flipped his phone closed and slid it into his pants pocket.
A loud piercing shrill echoed from the doctor's office down the hall. Everyone in the reception area looked up at the strident sound.
"Looks like someone else didn't turn their phone off," Kellen said to the receptionist.
She smiled at him, and then went back to her typing.
He glanced at his watch. He still had five minutes to kill before his appointment. He squinted down at the watch face. Something was wrong with it.
The second hand seemed to have stopped mid-tick. He tapped the plastic covering. No, it hadn't stopped but it was barely moving, as if suspended in some kind of liquid. Looking up, he noticed that other things in the lobby were off.
The clock on the wall over the receptionist's desk displayed the same effect as his watch. Even the vampiress seemed to be moving slower. Her actions and reactions to things were about a second off in time. There was a blur of motion over her body. Like when a photograph is out of focus.
The hair on his arms rose. A multitude of heartbeats from everyone on the floor thundered in his ears, making him wince. All of them were in sync.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
All except for one. He recognized that ticking for what it was.
In a blink of an eye, he crossed the distance between him and the receptionist. Grabbing her around the waist, he brought her down to the ground and covered her with his body.
The sound of her scream was the last thing he heard before everything around them exploded.