Authors: Mary Abshire
Cover Copy
Retribution. At any cost.
Now that she knows her name and what she is, she wants justice for everything she’s lost. Though her memories elude her, she takes a job for a half-demon Senator and, aided by werewolves from a local clan, intends to uncover evidence that will convict the Senator of more than thirty murders.
Getting to the Senator and finding the necessary evidence is more difficult than she anticipates, especially when there is a bounty for her death. If that were not enough, the vampire who stole her memories returns and reveals unexpected truths. But she’s not going to let anything stop her. Not a sadistic assassin or a servant or Lucifer. Not even her ex-lover, the vampire God of the Underworld. Nothing will stop her from claiming retribution...even if the price is her life.
Teaser
Police sirens drew near. The vampire shifted his gaze to me.
“Who are you?” My voice sounded hoarse.
He chuckled. “You really don't remember, do you?”
I gave a small shake of my head. The sirens stopped. The fast patter of steps indicated police officers were quickly approaching.
He slid the gun back inside his blazer. “Good.”
Good?
What did that mean?
He took a step to pass me. I reached out and caught his leg. “Wait. Tell me who you are.” I needed to know. Why did he save my life? Who was he? Why was he leaving me?
He jerked his leg free from my grasp. “You don't want to know.”
“Yes I do!”
A slight grin formed on his face. “I'm the one who keeps saving your life.”
Realization dawned. My gut tightened, and I suddenly felt nauseous. He was the vampire responsible for wiping out my memories.
The Quest
Project Eve, Book Two
By Mary Abshire
The Quest
9781616504137
Copyright © 2012, Mary Abshire
Edited by Abby Rose
Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc.
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: October, 2012
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Dedication
To my angel, Lydia, you are my strength, my light in the darkness and pure joy in my life. Thank you for being such a wonderful daughter. I wish you the best always.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to my daughter for not complaining when I spend endless hours on the computer. Yes, we will go shopping soon.
Heartfelt thanks to my long-time friend, Danielle, for listening and supporting me through all the good and bad times. You are the best!
Thank you Abby Rose for your editorial advice.
Sincere gratitude to my readers. You are awesome!
Chapter 1
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jonas’s wrist dangled over the steering wheel. His raised brows reflected his apprehension. “Working for the Senator could be extremely dangerous.”
Jonas had parked near the curb of the south government building. The backside of the Indiana Statehouse faced us. A light drizzle coated the windows while the odor of sewage drifted in through the vents. Anxiety flowed through my system, fueling me like a super vitamin. I was finally putting my long-awaited plan into action.
I slid the strap of my small purse over my arm. “We’ve discussed this how many times?” A hint of annoyance flavored my voice.
“And I will continue to remind you that she tried to have you killed. If it weren’t for some unknown vampire, you would be dead right now.”
I frowned at him like I did all the other times we had this discussion. Sure, he had a point. Over six weeks ago, Senator Galluzzi had orchestrated a meeting with thirty people of various breeds, including me. Everyone died, and she had believed I was dead too until I showed up at her door. I didn’t have memories of the meeting or before it, and still don’t, but I bluffed my way through our little chat, and she confessed she had everyone killed because she wanted to keep me hidden from the world. She didn’t want anyone to know I was unlike any creature on the planet–part demon, vampire, angel and human. Why? Because mixed breeds didn’t exist. Ever.
“I’m not changing my mind.”
Jonas shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
I’d heard the same comment repeatedly from Jonas, Tabby and Boss. Until a few weeks ago, they’d thought my idea to work for the evil bitch was a good one. My plan involved digging for information to bring her to justice for murdering everyone who met on that fateful night. The whole “keep your enemies closer” theory seemed like a good idea to me. They agreed my plan might work and supported me. When I told them Sal, the new demon clan leader, got me a job under the Senator, their opinions changed. They didn’t trust Sal’s motives one iota and continually tried to talk me out of working for the Senator.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping to appease my partner’s angst. I’d repeated the same words hundreds of times. Did it help? Apparently not.
Jonas stared at me. “This is too risky. We won’t be able to get to you fast enough if something happens.”
While I appreciated his concern for my life, I refused to live day by day under the belief he, or Boss, would always be around to help me. Yes, I was a rare creature, but I wasn’t a weak victim needing protection. I was strong and able-bound with enhanced abilities that could get me out of any kind of trouble. As usual, his unease was unnecessary.
I lightly swept the bangs away from his gray eyes. His short, brown hair had grown out, reaching his lashes and covering part of his ears. Stubble on his face gave him an older, sexier look. His soft musky scent with a hint of spice appealed to my sense of smell. The ex-military man was a dear friend to me, and I owed him a great deal. Not only was he supplying me with his blood on a weekly basis, he protected me like a big brother. At times, I sensed he wanted more than a friendship, but he never made a move to indicate he did. He was one of the kindest men I’d ever met, or remembered meeting.
“You need a haircut,” I said.
A smile tickled his lips. “You’re changing the subject again.”
I lowered my hand onto my lap. “There’s no point in discussing this anymore. I’m not changing my mind. I know the risk involved, and I’m willing to take it.”
Six weeks ago his life, as well as Tabby’s and Boss’s, were at stake. After Jonas and Boss, both investigators for the World Wide Organization for Peace and Protection–WWOPP– found me alive at the dump among all the dead, they offered to help me get my memories back and locate those responsible for the deaths. We bumped into Sal, now the local demon clan leader, and that’s when things started to go downhill fast. Sal issued an all points bulletin to force me to register with the clan so he could use me for his personal gain. In his efforts to acquire me, one of his clan shot my shape-shifting friend, Tabby, and another nearly killed Jonas. I managed to work a deal with Sal, and he called off his goons. Still, I feared for the lives of my friends, especially with a murdering Senator walking around freely.
“Shelley, I–”
I lifted my hand. “Save it. I’m doing this.” Before he said another word, I shoved the door open.
“If you need anything, call me,” Jonas said.
I twisted around and peered inside the car. “Are you going to pick me up or shall I expect to see Boss?”
“He’ll probably pick you up unless he’s busy with his research,” Jonas replied, leaning over the seat divider to meet my eyes. “I’ll make sure to have something waiting for you when you get back to the house.”
I suspected that something would be a vial of his blood. Boss and I had worked on a schedule to control my hunger. As part vampire, I didn’t need a fix as much as Boss did. So far, a weekly dose sustained me. Though I had light cramps, a sign I needed to feed, the pain was bearable.
Smiling, I said, “I’ll look forward to it.”
“If you change your mind…”
“’Bye, Jonas.” I shut the door and headed for the entrance.
My heels clacked on the concrete while light drops of rain fell on my skin. The stench of cigarettes lingered though no one stood around puffing. I reached a set of glass doors, took a few steps past them, then came to a halt at the security checkpoint.
“You can put your purse in one of the buckets,” said one of two uniformed guards.
I followed his instruction, dropped my bag into a gray tub and slid it onto the conveyor belt. Free from metal, I strode through the detector. The second guard watched me with a steady gaze, and I noticed the red ring around the centers of his eyes–a trait of a full-blooded demon. I also detected his unmistakable burning scent and held my breath. Fortunately, I didn’t have either attribute. Besides being part vampire, I also held human, demon and angel characteristics. I was one big conglomerate of races and the rarest creature to walk the Earth.
After retrieving my purse, I gave the demon cop a nod and then left.
I located the elevators not far from security. Two minutes later, I rode in an empty box that reeked of body odor, food and dampness. Sometimes a vampire’s sense of smell was not a good trait to have.
Standing in the elevator, I stared at my reflection on the silver doors. My dark hair was straight, flat and one dreary color. I missed the red streaks I once had. To look more professional, Tabby recommended I stick with one shade. The color bored me, but I understood the need for it. I wore a red blouse that buttoned down the front, a black skirt–knee length–and my usual black boots. The extra space in one of my boots left me feeling a bit naked. I typically kept my dagger, made by a powerful warlock especially for me, inside my boot. The poisonous blade insured instant death to anyone who touched it, except me. Knowing I had to pass through security, I’d left it at the house. Now, I missed my weapon.
The elevator dinged when I reached the lower level of the government center. The doors opened, and a crowd of faces stared at me. Some frowned, a few smiled, most looked weary. I moved past the mass while they rushed inside the elevator. At four o’clock in the afternoon, most employees were leaving from work, but my shift was just beginning.
With my purse tucked under my arm, I headed down the carpeted hallway in search of the personnel division. More workers strolled by, many wearing sneakers and carrying lunch bags. I walked to the side, staying out of their path. After I passed several doors, I spotted one open. The sign next to it indicated I’d reached my destination.
“Hi, I have an appointment to see Morgan Henderson,” I said to the older man sitting behind the desk.
He gave me a quick once-over through his thick glasses. “Have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I glanced around and spotted several chairs lined up against the wall. A desk, a large photography lamp, electronic equipment and a camera pointed at a chair sat at the far end of the room.
“Shelley Baxter?”
I spun around. An African American female dressed in dark slacks and a gold, flashy blouse strolled toward me with her hand outstretched. “Hi, I’m Morgan.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Come on back to my office. I just need you to complete a form and go over some information before I escort you to the capital.” She led me down a small hallway. After a few steps, she glanced over her shoulder. “Did you bring your ID with you?”
“Yes, I have it.”
My identification came compliments of Boss. He’d paid someone to create it for me since we didn’t know my real date of birth or any personal information beyond my name. I told him I’d reimburse him, which he shrugged off. Now that I had a job, I planned to start saving to find my own place to live and pay him back. The time for Shelley Baxter to enter the world and fit in with society was long overdue.
Morgan walked two feet into an office and paused. “Have a seat.”
I sat in one of the two black chairs while she circled around the desk. A computer monitor and keyboard took up one corner, near stacked trays. The other side of the desk was clear, save a calendar and penholder. Along the sidewall, a phone, printer and stacks of paper occupied the space on a credenza. Behind her, family pictures stood on display at the top of a beige cabinet.