Julia’s sworn enemies are safely sequestered in a prison of the fey and her forever mate has been chosen. Not by blood, but by a circumstance shaped from coincidence. However, it’s not enough to save Julia and the others who came from Alaska their fate by the hand of the Alaska den, whose reacquisition has come alarmingly full-circle to capture them. Tharell of the fey aligns with the Singers, Were and remaining vampire to take back the one Queen who could stop the interspecies wars and establish a truce of genetics that would free all the groups from extinction and conflict. Can they rescue Julia and her allies before it’s too late? Will the Red Were’s lineage prove to be the catalyst of victory against a corrupt pack that’s grown too debauched by greed and power to be overcome?
Tamara Rose Blodgett, is the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author of A Terrible Love; written under her pen name Marata Eros. Tamara has more than thirty-five titles in multiple genres including Dark Fantasy, Dark Romance and Dark Erotica. Tamara lives in South Dakota with her husband, children and fur kids (dogs). She is an ardent reader of many genres. Tamara enjoys interacting with her readers via Twitter, blog and newsletter as often as possible. Please stop by either one and say hi :)
The Washington state border loomed in the distance. Armed by Canadian Mounties. The horses pitched around nervously, causing the men on their backs to tighten their grip on the reins.
The horses were not dumb. An alert as ancient as any had tweaked their internal alarms.
Julia watched her husband and the other two females move forward. All half-wolfen. This is what the horses sensed.
In a perfect world, they'd all be on horseback, and the horses' scent would mask the Were.
But the world was not perfect. They had upwards of fifteen Were trailing them by their fragrance. Eau de Body Odor, Julia thought with a thinly concealed snort. She figured they kept getting worse as they traveled. No baths, food where they could get it—sleep a luxury. It was a combo for smelly, grumpy and beat.
Jason glanced at her and she gave a tired smile back. When Julia had been taken, she'd been wearing cute but useless tennis shoes. The kind you buy for nearly free and walk to the mailbox in.
They were in tatters. Blisters covered every place she looked. They had been especially bad at the back of her ankle and alongside her toes.
Cyn had healed her from most of it, along with the broken ribs and dislocated shoulder, but the injuries kept returning. The Were changed and suddenly there were no problems—for them. They were in their element out here in the forest. Julia was a regular person who'd just walked fifteen miles on no sleep and inadequate footware.
Jason lumbered back to her position. She looked up into his face, almost seven feet of half-Were and sighed.
“I smell your wounds,” he said and she nodded.
“Likely—they're driving me crazy.”
She laughed out loud when he put his big paws on his hips, thinking about a solution to her shredded feet.
His red downy fur and spinning green eyes regarded her. “What?” he asked and it came out as a growl instead of a word. Julia was feeling the lack of sleep and it translated into giddiness. She so didn't need that, but the more she tried to stop laughing, the worse in became.
She was now the interpreter of wolf speak.
“What? Stop the noise please,” Slash said with more than a little irritation.
“I think she's tired,” Jason restated the obvious with a grin that looked like a grimace on features that were far from human....
~~~~~~~~~~
Tires spinning, the car launched off in a lurching Superman dive.
Gravel, water from a swollen river below, and broken limbs showered in reverse as the car nose-dove into the shallowest part of the river below.
Tony waited, seconds sliding into a minute, and the gas tank cooperatively blew. Tony instinctively covered his face as it grew hot from the burning wreckage.
Fan-effing-tastic, he thought with satisfaction. Good old Doug was laughing to pieces down there in the trunk. Literally. Of course, the dead had no humor. It was too perfect.
He laughed at his cleverness and backed away from the inferno.
After about a quarter mile outside the immediate scent reach, he caught the one smell he'd been hunting before trashing the burning evidence.
Singers.
And one in particular: Jacqueline.
The grin on his face reflected his satisfaction.
It fit him perfectly as he'd slipped his human skin to go to wolfen the instant his nose guided him into the thickest part of the woods where his prize lay hiding.
Tony ran, the small animals of the forest moving like water split by a ship's prow. They scampered as he tore through their habitat.
When he arrived where the Singers and demonic fought, he wore their small bodies to mid-shin.
If they did not move out of his way, he ran them into the ground.
It was this vision that filled Jacqueline's eyes when her gaze found him. He knew what she saw from the tenseness of her body.
Fucking weird, Tony thought. As he looked around at the Singers, he noticed they wore some kind of silver all over their skin.
He squinted, looking closer, and realized it was the blood coursing through their bodies.
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