Prologue

I am a son of blood, born of a vampire father and a human mother. Neither vampire nor human, I belong nowhere. Those like me hide amongst the shadows. I despise my fears and my strengths, for they trap me in a vague existence. The beasts of darkness mock me, while humans fear me. It is not the hunger for blood that drives me but the need to kill the dark beasts that spread death throughout the land.

Accounts of a Dhampir, 1812

Chapter One

Present day, Chicago, Illinois

Dejan Radovic walked into the living room with an air of purpose. “You have to knock some sense into your brother, Jovan.”

Jovan looked up from the newspaper he was reading. “Which one?”

“Milan. He’s dating humans like it’s some fashion. Why can’t he stick to his own kind?”

The corner of Jovan’s mouth hooked up into a wry smile as he returned to the paper. “He’s been dating them for months now. You know that.”

Dejan walked around the armchair and leaned his elbow on the fireplace mantle, displeasure etched across his mouth. “So you condone it?”

Jovan shrugged, already knowing where the conversation was going. “Well, there’s nothing much I can do about it. He’s a grown man.”

Dejan’s jaw clenched as he glowered at his cousin. “Your casual attitude surprises me. I thought we saw eye to eye on this.”

Jovan expelled his breath. “We’ve had this talk before, Dejan. As with many restrictive customs, they eventually crumble under modern ways. It’s inevitable.” He could practically hear his cousin’s teeth grinding together.

“All of this careless cross-breeding will destroy us eventually. Three hundred years and everything we’ve accomplished... What for? A quick fuck?” Dejan shook his head. “It’s insane.”

Jovan lowered the paper and met Dejan’s heated gaze. “Our people have come a long way. I’m well aware. But we’ve practically succeeded in our mission. There are only sixteen recorded hostile clans left in the entire world.”

“True, but the threat exists.

“When was the last time you hunted?”

Dejan paused in thought. “Four months ago.”

Jovan inclined his head to emphasize his point. “About thirty years ago, our fathers would kill every week.”

Dejan took a step forward. “It’s not just about getting rid of deadly vampires—it’s about preserving dhampirs.” He paused. “Do you want the race to become extinct?”

Jovan was proud of who he was; he’d dedicated his life to the mission. But his cousin’s remark had roused deep-seated feelings, ones he’d been trying to suppress. Now that they rarely killed vampires—injecting them instead with a genetic-altering substance—he suffered from bouts of black moods, sometimes to the point of nausea. All dhampirs were afflicted. Lately, he’d been thinking that the extinction of the race would offer future generations a chance at normalcy.

“We are the true lineage,” Dejan asserted.

Jovan couldn’t argue with that. Their ancestors originated from Serbia, the birthplace of dhampirs, with unparalleled strength and, in some cases, supernatural abilities. Dhampirs populated Europe in the 18^th and 19^th centuries, and North America followed. Apart from an insignificant number of sceptics who suspected dhampirs had ulterior motives, humans generally liked them, even hailed them as heroes. Unions between the two races were becoming acceptable, producing offspring with fewer dhampir genes. The race would disappear—not in his lifetime, but someday. By then, he estimated that vampires would be harmless. Dejan’s intentions were good, although unrealistic. He couldn’t control every single dhampir.

Jovan expelled a rough sigh and stood. His cousin needed placating. “I’ll see what I can do.” He marched out of the room, having no intention of following through. He’d indulged in human pleasure at least a couple of times himself. He had his faults, but hypocrisy wasn’t one of them.

* * * * *

The dream had her tossing and turning into full daybreak. The last thing Nina recalled was the blood roaring in her ears as a set of sharp teeth grazed the pulse in her throat. She’d woken with a start. A thin film of sweat covered her body. She shivered and sunk deeper into the sheets until her skin dried. Slowly, almost tentatively, she stretched out the usual morning stiffness. Folding back the sheets, she got up and headed into the washroom. In the mirror, she examined her neck, noting that it was free of any marks, as she expected it would be.

She sighed and shook her head. This was Daphne’s fault. Last week, she called her in a fit of panic because of a dream she’d had, in which Nina was attacked by a vampire. Ever since she met Daphne at college, her friend had been experiencing occasional premonitions in the form of dreams. These visions rarely happened in reality, and if they did, she believed they were coincidental. Secretly, she wasn’t convinced Daphne was psychic. She was a highly emotional person with a tendency to dramatize things.

She returned to the bedroom and fished through her drawers for a pair of tights and a loose sweater—weekend wear. As she walked into the kitchen, she noticed the flashing red button on her answering machine. She pressed Play and began preparing a strong coffee. The first message was from her other best friend, Trish, reminding her of their outing tonight at a new club. She knew she’d be tired after working at her brother’s bookshop today, but she’d promised the girls. It was one of those small, independent bookshops that sold eclectic literature and supported local writers. She relieved Chris every other Saturday so he could spend time with his family.

The next message was from a woman named Emily Silva, who was looking to hire a personal assistant for a four-month contract. A former client had referred her. This was what Nina Bradley did for a living. Her contracts lasted anywhere from one week to several months. She’d worked for business owners, executives, and writers. She enjoyed the ability to manage her time, declining work when she needed a break. She had just finished a lengthy job and was planning to take a few weeks to relax, maybe take that trip to Manhattan she and the girls had been talking about, and also visit Aunt Ivette. She replayed the message to jot down the contact number. She’d skip this one.

* * * * *

That afternoon, she drove to her brother’s bookshop in Bucktown. She loved this part of town. It was a hub of quaint specialty shops with old buildings and cobblestone streets.

She dashed into the Italian pastry shop next door to get a cappuccino before going into the bookshop. As she pushed through the front door, Nina breathed in the smell of books and polished wood. No matter how many times she came here, the soft lighting, the classical music and the dark-stained shelves were a warm welcome. She crossed over to the purchase desk.

Chris looked up and gave her a bright smile. “Hi, Sis.”

“Hi. How’s my little brother?” She gave his cheek an affectionate pinch. He was younger by eighteen months and had the same deep brown eyes as her.

“Can’t complain. We were busy during the day, but it looks like you’ll have a quiet evening,” he said as he handed change to a customer.

She liked quiet.

He pushed his black-rimmed glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “Before I forget, Katie’s birthday party is next Sunday, at twelve. If you think you can handle a bunch of three-year-olds for a couple of hours, she’d love to have you there.”

“Of course I’ll be there. I’m her auntie, right?”

Chris pulled on his jacket and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being here, Nina.”

“No problem. Send my love to Amy and the kids.”

“I will.”

Her gaze lingered on his familiar, slim frame, and she smiled. Now there was a good man, living proof that good men existed. Just where the hell were the rest? Nina’s last relationship was another disappointment in a series of disappointments, ending dramatically when she tossed all of Andy’s belongings to the curb in plastic bags and boxes. It closed the chapter on a two-year relationship that was doomed from the start because Andy was one of those men who would never be happy with one woman. Trish labeled him a whore. She had a way with words.

An hour later, she switched posts with one of the staff because she was eager to see the new releases. She pushed the book cart over to the beginning of the fiction section and started shelving the books.

“Nina, darling!”

She smiled as she turned around, recognizing the voice right away. Daphne had a permanently sexy voice. Whatever she said rolled off her tongue like the content purr of a cat. Her friend’s chestnut hair swayed to the light bounce of her walk. Daphne stopped in front of her and dropped a kiss on each of her cheeks, no doubt leaving a glossy pink outline of her lips.

“This is a nice surprise,” Nina replied. “What brings you to this part of town?”

Daphne touched Nina’s forearm, blue eyes round with concern. “Well, first of all, I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Nina’s smile tightened. “Well, apart from a few nightmares involving vampires, I’m fine.”

Daphne frowned. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but that dream was intense—I couldn’t ignore it.”

“M-hmm...”

“I know you don’t take this seriously, but be careful anyway, okay?”

Nina slid another book onto the shelf. Her friend’s concern was genuine. “I will, Daphne, I promise. Don’t worry about me.” She gave her a reassuring smile.

Daphne nodded and brightened. “I’m going to book the three of us a spa day. The only thing, there’s a bit of a waiting list for groups. And there’s Manhattan, right?”

Nina chuckled, enjoying Daphne’s energy. “Yes, I’d really like that trip.”

“I’ll get on that once I have the chance.” She paused as a twinkle flickered in her eyes. “Now, I was hoping you could help me find a book.”

Nina’s eyebrows arched. Daphne seldom read anything. “What kind of book?”

“Something on dhampirs, but not fictional. Something informative.”

“Dhampirs?” Daphne had recently started dating a dhampir. Nina hadn’t warmed to the idea. Many of them hunted vampires for a living, which had to be a dangerous occupation. She’d hate to see her friend heartbroken. Of course, dhampirs were terribly sexy—hard to resist. Oh, she’d had her share of erotic dreams involving the race. What young woman hadn’t? The men usually had exotic good looks, and they were strong, oozed manliness. It was a known fact that they were highly sexual, more primal in that respect than most humans. Although she considered herself open-minded, she wasn’t sure what to make of relationships between dhampirs and people, because dhampirs were half vampire, after all.

“Yes, I want to learn more about them. It’s really fascinating...and you know about Tim....”

Nina nodded. “Of course. Let me see what we have in stock. Come.” She went over to the computer to access the booklist and typed in a search for dhampirs. A surprisingly long list of titles appeared. After scanning it over, she found one in the history section. “I think I found something.” She led Daphne to the back of the shop.

Her fingers skimmed along the book spines until she located the book and pulled it out. “Evolution of the Dhampir. An Authoritative Account.”

Daphne took the book and smiled. “This sounds perfect. Thanks.”

“So, what’s he like?” Nina asked.

A dreamy look came over Daphne’s face. “Oh, he’s great and such a hunk. You’ll meet him soon.”

“Hmm. Trish mentioned he bartends.”

“Yes.”

There was a sudden jab of curiosity. “So does he...em...you know...?” Hunt blood-sucking vampires?

“Oh, he’s never talked about it. He’s kind of reserved that way,” Daphne replied with a nonchalant wave of her hand.