Authors: Lani Rhea
Louisiana Moon
LOUISIANA MOON
By LANI RAE
LYRICAL PRESS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/
I am dedicating Louisiana Moon to three special men and one young lady in my life. In February and March of 2011, I lost two dear cousins, Casey Compton and Mitchell Compton. And in May 2012, I lost my cousin, Sarah Cofer.
You three will forever be with me, and I love you. Their memories got me through the writing process of Louisiana Moon.
In December of 2011, my 22 year old brother, my hero, Cody Elliott, fell ill with AML leukemia. He fought hard and we thought he’d won. Five days before he passed on February 7
th
, 2012, I told him I wanted to dedicate this book to him; that I wanted the whole world to know he was my hero for being so brave. He smiled and nodded and said he would like that.
His beautiful smile and his determined nod will never leave me. And his voice will forever be etched in my soul.
However, heaven needed a hero and Cody was called home.
A piece of me went with him on that day.
He will never leave my heart, my soul and my thoughts for the rest of my days. With Cody’s passing, and with my promise, he helped me get through the edits to make this story possible. Good ride, cowboy. Good ride.
I love all four of you with all my heart. I’ll see you when my time comes, when I get where I’m going—home to heaven with you. Cody, never forget our sign language of ‘I love you’, because now you truly know how much I really did and still do. I love you, bubba.
Love,
Sissy
Acknowledgements
To all of you who believed in me and helped out when I needed it: Benjamin Russell, Bonni Sansom, Brindle Chase, Calisa Rhose, Christian Jenson, Elicia Stoll, Emily Clark, Heaven Leigh Eldeen, J.P. Archer, Jeannie Swint, Kallypso Masters, Katie Harper, Lauren Smith, Louisa Bacio and Toni Marlo.
OKRWA and The Preternaturals for the support.
Michele Page, my personal assistant, who is my rock. Cassiel Knight, my editor, for all of her wonderful hard work. And to Renee Rocco for the fantastic cover I’m so in
love
with!
To my family and friends—thanks for standing beside me.
To my kids and man…you’re all amazing and I love you!
1
Kris Knight shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to throw the vampire sitting across from her out of her office. As one of the best bounty hunters in the area, pissed-off vampires came with the territory.
She narrowed her eyes at the vampire glowering at her. She didn’t want jobs with the undead. Working for them was not in her nature and not her thing. But here he sat—the master vampire of Louisiana himself. Launders. She guessed because she refused his minions, he’d come to secure her services himself.
The undead man stroked his chin as he studied her.
She studied him in return.
His black hair parted to the side and slicked back exuded expensive pomade. Launders resembled an early nineteenth-century boss, the type who viewed the action, never getting their hands dirty. Light sparkled, catching her attention. She glanced at the teardrop stone piercing the center of his ebony satin tie. Matching blood-red links studded his wrist cuffs.
Launders appeared too small, too effeminate to be a master. Even so, looks were deceptive in the preternatural world. A big hulk of a newly-made vamp held only a fraction of the strength of a petite, porcelain doll of a master.
Not that she could say much on the subject of appearance. She hated her short stature and the constant ribbing about her breasts doubling as floatation devices. That thought pushed burning frustration through her veins. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly needing to hide from the master vampire. At least he didn’t know her secret strength and the power she carried inside. Some days she struggled to mask her abilities. This was not one of them.
“What can I do for you?” Or not do, she hoped.
“I need you to locate an escapee who has information about Soulscape activity.” His thicker Chicago accent bled through his southern twang.
Interesting. Not interesting enough to entice her to work for the cold-blooded bastard. Her standards weren’t bottomless pits. Besides, other jobs waited. Her punch card overflowed with clients. At the moment, they were her most vital concern. Not some master vampire’s problems.
“Soulscapes, huh? Your minions didn’t mention those soul-sucking demons. The Soulscapes have been locked away for attempting to overthrow the Darkworld for several centuries now.”
Behind her unwanted guest, the grandfather clock ticked off five minutes. Kris tilted in her Italian leather desk chair and crossed her Gucci leather boots on the corner of the wood desk.
“Will you help?” His top lip curled, showing fangs. Did Launders expect her to faint with fear or squeal with delight?
“I’ll check my calendar.” She’d dealt with several vampires in the past. Those encounters had never turned out well. This case—a no-brainer. She reached for her calendar, flipped through it as she pretended to look for an opening then closed the book.
He cocked his head. Launders’s white cheekbones sharpened against his hollowed skin. He looked starved. Hungry vamps were dangerous. She ignored the unsettling thought as she continued to stare at him.
From her peripheral, her laptop’s screensaver bounced a ping-pong wooden stake game and provided a momentary distraction. She glanced at the screen then back to him and cleared her throat.
“I’ll pay you handsomely.” Launders leaned to the side, next to the plant by the chair then smoothed the palm tree leaves with his fingers.
Her jaw clenched. She hoped he didn’t discover the gift beneath the plant.
His gaze traced the length of her throat as he licked his lips. Dinner bell fear tightened her muscles. She might have to fight him off if he decided to bite. Master vampire or not, she wanted him out of her office, pronto. She chewed her bottom lip.
He quirked a dark brow and shifted. “Is there someone else who can take over for you to help me?”
“No.”
The small burgundy office grew cold as his body absorbed the heat she needed. The bastard upped the ante. Damn
.
Vampires always stole body heat to wear their victims down so they could get what they wanted. Control. If only she’d put the crystal necklace on before he’d entered. Instead, the amulet lay hidden under her palm.
Shivering, she tugged her jacket tighter around her chest. Every battle instinct she possessed suggested something brewed.
A slip of a smile spread across his pale pink lips. When his honeyed vanilla vampire scent spewed thick and sweet into the air, she knew he tried to get a read on her.
Bastard.
Kris wanted to knock the smug expression off his face, but held fast.
She sat motionless, unblinking, as his mind’s probe pelted her mental fortress. No way would he break through to read her thoughts—she wouldn’t let him, and he wasn’t strong enough. Like a new fanger. She squinted. How odd. Launders wasn’t the first to try, nor would he be the last. She’d bet his undead life on it. The only preternaturals to break her steel trap were the eldest vampires.
“I will not leave until you give me what I desire.”
He rubbed his thumb over his fingertips. His shiny rings clicked together, echoing through the room. He wouldn’t scare a yes out of her with the threat of his fist.
“I won’t help you. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”
His jaw clenched as he swallowed. “Why not?” Focusing on her well-endowed chest, he licked his bottom lip. Not hunger. Something else. What did he hide?
Anger boiled as a warm flush suffused her face. She cleared her throat in disgust. Alive or dead, men never changed.
“Tell me why you will not, Kristina?”
The air between them pressurized, collapsing her lungs with a gnawing burn. She took shallow breaths to prevent herself from gagging on the sweet aroma behind the pressure.
“I don’t want to be placed in the middle of whatever is going on between vampires and the Soulscapes. Your battle—your problem.”
No one sought the Soulscapes. He should know this stuff. The creatures needed cement or rock to come alive. Spells protecting the steel rooms trapped them underground and would never collapse. And those boxes were scattered around various parts of the United States. She didn’t know every location, only a few in the northern states. Did she care to find the rest? No.
He bent his head to the right and flashed fangs. “For your benefit, I suggest you get involved.”
Kris lowered her chin, glaring into his blue starburst eyes, watching for the slightest movement. She shifted, curling her fingers around her business jacket’s pleats. “How many more visits will it take for you to understand the word no?”
His smile disappeared. “We never take no for an answer. Like the servants before me, I’ll ask again, in a nice way. If you refuse, I’ll make you say yes
.
” He paused.
“Will you be kind and help me track down an escapee who holds information that could possibly start a war within the Darkworld?”
Her heart pounded at the
threat and skipped a beat on the word war
.
What was he talking about?
He inspected her breasts again. “You’re hot.”
What?
Her blood pressure rose higher, further pissing her off. “I suggest you focus on my face if you wish to continue this conversation.”
His features hardened at her returned threat. Kris read the surprise in his eyes and didn’t look away. The undead asshole squirmed a bit.
Ah, she’d hit a nerve. Good. She’d push his buttons to make him leave.
He scooted to the edge of the seat. “I meant your skin puts off more heat, energy, than anyone I’ve ever known.” Launders sniffed the air.
The vampire better keep his distance. Her teeth clenched, and she lifted her chin. “You’re an arrogant ass.”
In a flash, he loomed over her, hands braced on the mahogany wood between them. “You’d better watch your mouth when you speak to me or I’ll rip your—”