"Vampire prophecy leads to adventure and romance."
Reviewed by Kate Garrabrant
Posted March 4, 2008
Romance Series | Paranormal | Romance
Author, Ariel Swanson has a best seller called The Vampire's
Return. Writing the book is a form of therapy for her ever
since vampires killed her family when she was a teen. It is
widely known that vampires have been extinct for decades but
Ariel can't help but wonder if there are a few still roaming
the Earth, hiding from humanity. After Ariel makes a guest
appearance on a television show, she is kidnapped a vampire.
His name is Jachin Black who was banished from the Saguinas
society. Because Ariel talks about a well known prophecy in
her book, Jachin believes she is the fated mate to the
leader of the Saguinas. Jachin hopes that by brining Ariel
to his leader, he will be welcomed back into the fold. Vampires were actually made by the government in order to
create a super-human race and drinking human blood actually
acts as a poison if digested. If Ariel is the fated mate,
her blood will be pure. Perhaps then the Saguinas and the
Lupredas, who are werewolves, can live in harmony again and
share the land they both want to live on. Ariel tries to
escape Jachin every chance she can get, but it is useless
since Jachin is so strong and they both are being tracked.
Jachin is not the only one who wants Ariel, and now he must
protect her and make sure she comes out alive. At first, Ariel is very frightened by Jachin, but her
feelings quickly turn to something more for this sexy yet
tortured man. Jachin can't help but have the same feelings
as Ariel does even though she is a human and someone else
mate. But something calls to Jachin, telling him to make
Ariel his mate and he can't stop wanting to taste the fair
Ariel's luscious body and also drink the blood that runs
freely in her veins. Patrice Michelle has written an intricate tale of vampires
and werewolves that is unlike any story I have read before.
This is a dark tale of murder and bloodshed and Jachin is
the catalyst for most of this action. Jachin is not your
typical hero and he comes across as somewhat villainous. But
this quickly changes when he takes Ariel into his
protection. Even though he kidnaps her, his protective
nature comes out. Ariel is very strong and holds her own and
I was surprised she could take on the bad guys just as well
as Jachin could. The love that grows between Jachin and Ariel comes very
fast, in a matter of a few days, but when they act on their
attraction, it is a welcome release from all the tension.
And if you like your love scenes that pack a punch, look no
further because the pages practically singe from the heat
between these two. Angst, paranormal action and love are in
SCIONS: RESURRECTION and I can't wait to pick up the next
book in this new series by Patrice Michelle.
SUMMARY
Everyone believed vampires were extinct. Everyone was wrong. When Ariel Swanson wrote a novel about vampires, she hoped
it would exorcise her fear of the creatures that had, not
so long ago, terrorized the human population.
Instead, it brought her to their attention. And to the attention of Jachin Black—a man banished from
the Sanguinas, a vampire clan, and forced to hunt among the
despised humans. For he clung to the prophecy given years
ago, of a better way for his kind to live… a prophecy Ariel
unknowingly used as the basis of her novel. Ariel hates and fears vampires. Jachin despises humanity.
But the prophesy—and passion—bind them in ways they could
never have imagined. Ways that may heal the past, and
change the future… Scions: A prophecy reveals hidden secrets and holds the
key to fulfilling their ultimate desires.
ExcerptUnedited excerpt from the book SCIONS: RESURRECTION
by Patrice MichelleChapter One A death for a life. Jachin leaned against the rain-slicked building in New York
City’s theater district and stared at the name written in
red ink on the five-thousand-dollar bill in his hand. Such
a wasteful use of the obsolete paper money indicated either
his client’s sheer wealth or his complete disregard for
preserving items of the past. Jachin didn’t care which.
His client paid, he did his job. He crushed the bill in a tight fist, mentally sending heat
to his palm. Damp, cool summer air blew in the alley
between the theater and the warehouse, bringing with it
faint scents of car exhaust and day-old trash from a nearby
alley. Jachin uncurled his fingers and ashes floated from
his hand, dispersing in the wind. No trace, exactly the way
he preferred to operate. How many kills had he made over the past decade? He
stopped keeping track after fifty. Dealing in death had
become his means to live, yet doing so had darkened his
soul. A sound in the dark recesses of the alley drew his
attention and his shoulders tensed. He slowed his breathing
to one breath every thirty seconds. His heart rate
followed suit while he harnessed his energy to enhance his
sight. Anger lashed through him, and his sharp gaze
narrowed on the culprit. He’d ignored the hunger pains for
four days longer than he should have. No one would screw
with this deal. Small vivid green eyes stared back at him in the alley’s
darkness before the cat hissed then fled. The low rumble of voices exiting the front of the building
told him the show was over. His gaze dropped to the old-
fashioned watch on his wrist. It was more accurate since
it didn’t depend on a consistent pulse rate to power it.
When it came to his job, timing was everything. Thomas
Ramos’ security would be escorting the senator out of the
building in forty-five seconds. Jachin slid his hand under his lightweight, black leather
trench coat, his muscles tensing again as he pulled his
pulser weapon from its holder at his lower back. As the
weapon powered up, he reveled in the high frequency zing
and the realization the weapon was a detached extension of
himself. He could easily kill Ramos and his security
detail with his bare hands, but this was business, not an
act of vengeance. Bright light flicked on above the theatre’s backdoor,
bathing the dark alley in a circular glow.
The door began to open and Jachin’s fingers flexed as he
gripped his gun. A female voice had him stepping behind a
stack of crates. Damn. A woman. He ground his teeth at the unexpected complication and ran
his thumb up the weapon’s dial, moving the power from kill
to stun. Four people spilled out of the Wesley Theater’s back exit.
A tall security guard and a short, thick-necked guard
preceded a blonde woman and Ramos. Expensive perfume,
spicy cologne, hyped-up testosterone and the scent of sex
surrounded them as the woman giggled at the senator. She gave Ramos a quick kiss on the cheek, while short curls
bounced around her laughing expression. “Honestly, Tommy,
how was I supposed to keep my mind on the play with your
hands doing their own kind of entertainment?” Jachin stepped out of the shadows and pegged the woman with
his first burst. She crumpled to the ground amid yells from the men. Jachin
mentally slammed the theater door shut before the men could
retreat inside. Instincts on high, he dove out of the way
of a pulse burst that missed his chest by a couple inches. “Sonofabitch!” The tall man fired constant bursts while
using his body as a shield to back the senator toward the
Dumpster at the end of the alley.
Squawks from a comm. unit echoed in the narrow space. The
short, bald guard spoke into a communicator attached to his
wrist. “He moves like an animal, so fast I can’t get a make
on him. Gotta be Slayer. We need backup now!” No one would come. Jachin had already taken out the
security detail sitting in the car outside the front of the
theatre. He advanced with rapid speed, using the alley’s brick walls
as springboards. The security guards yelled, and pulser
fire exploded around him, leaving singe holes in the brick
wall one step behind him. With each leap, he edged
forward, corralling the three men. When one of them nicked his jacket, the close call made
Jachin’s heart beat faster, heightened his senses.
Predatory excitement grew within him. His mouth watered and
his gums tingled as he forced the men to the back of the
alley. The inevitability of the kill was almost upon him. Jachin leapt over the Dumpster to land in front of the tall
security guard. Before his quarry got one shot off, Jachin grabbed the
man’s scrawny neck and squeezed, his primal instincts
taking over. The dead man’s body dropped to the ground
with a heavy thump. Holstering his gun, Jachin flexed his leg muscles and
vaulted in the air. He landed in front of the two men,
blocking their path to the door. The security agent’s weapon discharged and surprising,
excruciating pain ripped through Jachin’s upper arm. The
burning sensation spread down his bicep as if his arm was
being burned from the inside out. Jachin bit back the unholy roar of pain and fisted the
senator’s lapel in a tight grip at the same time he
hammered his other hand against the security guard’s barrel-
like chest. When the guard’s lifeless body fell to the ground, the
senator’s jowls quivered as he stared up at Jachin.
Stunned shock briefly replaced the fright in his eyes. His
gaze flicked to his attacker’s elongated canines. “You’re
a vampire? But…but we thought you were extinct.” “Isn’t that a helluva rub?” Jachin leaned close to
him. “My race was made by humans, condemned by humans, yet
humans have no problem hiring one of us to do their dirty
work.” Ramos’s heart rate stuttered and a look of pain crossed his
face. Sweat trickled down his temples as he crushed
Jachin’s coat with meaty hands and gasped for breath. “You
can’t.” “Watch me.” Jachin pulled the man close and sank his teeth
deep into his thick jugular. Rage made Jachin’s chest
constrict. As Thomas let out a low scream, flashes of
Jachin’s Sanguinas clan members suffering from the humans’
torturous testing, dying before their time, flew though his
mind. Decades of vengeful instincts, demanded he rip the
human’s throat out. Taking deep breaths through his nose, Jachin fought the
urge to inflict pain. This was business. Instead, he merely swallowed the warm blood. Thomas’ low
scream dwindled to a hoarse whimper a few seconds before
the corrupt senator’s heart jerked to a halt. Jachin had only taken two swallows when the familiar nausea
slammed into him, twisting his insides. Disgusted, he
retracted his fangs, swiped his tongue over the bite wound
and dropped the dead man on the damp asphalt. Not a single ounce of remorse entered his thoughts as he
pulled his gun from the holster, adjusted its setting back
to kill mode and put two pulse bursts into the senator’s
chest. After he reholstered his weapon, he picked up the
unconscious woman and set her inside the theater door. Wiping the remnants of blood from his mouth, Jachin turned
away from the carnage and never looked back.
A short time later, Jachin stood in an upscale gardened
courtyard on the Upper East Side, banging on Roach’s door. “Hold yer horses, for God’s-sake,” Roach said from behind
the thick, intricately carved wood. When the older man opened the door, Jachin barely held on
to his consciousness. He stumbled through the threshold
and fell on the tiled kitchen floor. “Six pints,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Damn it, don’t you die in my house!” Roach stamped his
foot on the floor. He scowled and bent over Jachin, running his hand through
his spiky gray hair. Jachin would forever associate the
man’s spicy cologne with irritating yet necessary salvation. Roach’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Payment
first. Ten thousand.” Jachin gritted his teeth. Ten thousand was half his
take. “Extortionist! Dim the lights,” he growled and
tossed the bastard his payment. “Bloodsucker.” Roach’s bony fingers gripped the slim card
Jachin threw his way. Once Roach ran the card through a
hand-held scanner he’d pulled from his robe’s pocket, he
nodded his approval and slid his finger across the touchpad
on the wall to lower the lights. Before he left the room,
he tossed Jachin his card back and grumbled, “Don’t you
bleed on my new floor.” In order to remain conscious, Jachin slid his card into his
coat pocket and focused on the newly remodeled kitchen with
its contemporary black cabinets and stainless steel
appliances. The hard white tile beneath him felt
surprisingly warm. Heated tile. Roach spared no expense
on his new kitchen. How ironic, considering Jachin sought
out the man for his ability to concoct a palatable meal—a
meal from a lab, not a kitchen. He didn’t know how Roach
was able to make human blood viable for him. All he knew
was the man was a retired chemist. Jachin lay very still. Every sound echoed in his throbbing
head. Even the soft glow of indoor lights made him want to
puke…if he had anything in his belly to toss. He’d already
retched up the senator’s foul blood on the way to Roach’s. The grating shuffle of shoes announced Roach’s return.
Several pints of blood smacked on the floor next to
Jachin. He winced at the deafening noise reverberating in
his head and grabbed the pouches. Holding three bags together, he ripped the plastic corners
with his teeth and sucked down the pints in two large
swallows before he reached for the next set. A chair scraped the floor. “Who bought it tonight?” Annoyed that his hand shook, Jachin ignored Roach’s
question and lifted three more full bags to his lips. “Serves you right for attempting to take tainted human
blood.” Roach snorted while lowering himself into the
chair. Once Jachin downed his sixth pint, his cramping stomach
abated somewhat. He elevated himself on his elbow and
focused on Roach. “I should’ve drained you dry. Keep
upping your prices and see if I don’t one day.” Roach laughed out loud and ran his gnarled fingers across
the old scar on his neck. “Just like all humans, my blood
is poison to you. Can’t you come up with any new threats?
I feel slighted that you don’t make the effort to be
original with me.” A lingering pain slashed through him, stealing Jachin’s
breath. Doubling over with pain, he growled while flipping
off Roach. “Eh, that’s what you need…a good lay.” The crotchety man
thrummed his fingers on the table. While the sterilized blood spread through his system,
Jachin took a deep, inhaling breath. He shuddered at the
sheer power and nutrients it provided, the awakening of his
senses. The rush was almost arousing. Almost. “I don’t need sex. I need sleep.” He glanced past the hole
in his jacket and touched the burn on his arm. At least
the partially healed wound had begun to close. It would
fully heal. There was only one scar he cared about. Roach slid his gaze to the empty plastic bags littering his
floor. “You wouldn’t need so much if you didn’t continue
to believe in the ramblings of an old vampire on his
deathbed.” Jachin stood to his six-foot-four inch height and narrowed
his gaze on Roach. “The prophesy is true.” It has to be.
It’s the only thing that keeps me going, he mentally
finished. He turned to leave, and dizziness made him grab
the back of the kitchen chair. Roach let out a heavy sigh. Pulling two more pints of blood
out of his plush terry robe’s pocket, he handed them to
Jachin. “On the house.” “Your generosity overwhelms me,” Jachin said, taking the
plastic pouches. Roach snorted at his sarcasm. “I have to keep my income
source in fit condition.” Jachin turned to leave and called over his
shoulder, “Friggin’ opportunist.” “Don’t let the door slam you in the ass on your way out,
Bloodsucker.” Once he’d tucked the two pints of blood into his coat’s
inside pocket, Jachin took the subway to the Lower East
Side. Jamie’s Pub was within a couple miles of his home.
As he walked inside the pub and sat down at the bar, the
scent of burnt almonds, peanuts, smoke, sweat and free-
flowing alcohol slammed into him. The place was packed
with men staring at the curvaceous blonde newscaster
currently displayed on the large projector screen along the
far wall. “We interrupt tonight’s sports event to bring you breaking
news,” she said, eliciting groans from the men who were
obviously there to watch the tournament game while they
downed a few beers. “Senator Ramos and his entire security
team were murdered tonight in what appears to be a brutal
assignation. The only survivor of the crime was a female
theatergoer, but she was knocked unconscious before she
could see the assassins. We’ll keep you informed once
autopsies have been conducted.” As the newscaster cut to another journalist on the scene,
Jachin scanned the room. He caught a whiff of Landon’s
scent before he saw the man with short, light brown hair
get up from a table at the back of the room and begin to
weave his way around the tables. “Your drink, sir.” Kip set the imported whiskey down in
front of Jachin. Jachin picked up the double shot and
inhaled the alcohol’s strong aroma. “Know anything about that deal tonight?” Landon narrowed
his green eyes on him before he turned a deliberate gaze to
the thin man sitting on the stool next to Jachin. Jerking
his head toward the main room, he addressed the
man. “There’s a better view of the game out there.” Landon’s stance, his entire dominating presence, demanded
respect. “Fine,” the man slurred. He cast bleary, bloodshot eyes
Jachin’s way before he swiped up his drink and slid off the
stool to stumble to a nearby table. Landon ran his hand across the cleft in his chin and
accessed Jachin with shrewd frankness before he sat on the
stool next to him and signaled for the bartender. Jachin threw back his entire drink in one swallow. While
the alcohol did its magic, burning all the way down to his
belly, he deliberately eyed the smashed bullet plug
dangling from the silver chain around Landon’s neck. The
small piece of metal stood out against his black t-shirt.
He knew what that bullet meant to Landon and where the
man’s loyalties lay. “You asking in an official capacity?” Landon cut his gaze from the beer Kip just set down in
front of him back to Jachin. Picking up his cold longneck,
he took a deep swig. “Do I need to?” Jachin noted the rise in Landon’s heartbeat, the increase
in his musky, primal scent. He was tensing, preparing to
fight if need be. Jachin knew he could probably take
Landon. Hell, in the past he could’ve overpowered him with
one hand tied behind his back, but he was done with his
share of violence for the night. “Just out for a stroll and a drink before calling it a
night.” Jachin tapped the wood surface to let Kip know he
wanted another round. “You look half dead.” Jachin glanced at the wall-length mirror behind the bar.
Whereas Landon’s face appeared tanned underneath his
scruffy several days’ growth of beard, Jachin’s clean
shaven, angular face looked haggard and pale, his high
cheekbones sharper and more defined than usual. “Shit
happens,” he said after the bartender replaced his drink
and walked away to help a customer at the other end of the
bar. “Nice and clean. Smells like a pulser burn to me.” Landon’s comment jerked Jachin’s gaze back to him, but the
man’s line of sight was focused on Jachin’s arm. Glancing down at his coat sleeve, Jachin’s gut tightened.
He’d forgotten about being hit earlier. “It rained
tonight. Your senses are off, my friend.” Jachin lifted
his drink and gulped it back then met Landon’s gaze with a
steady, challenging one. Friends they weren’t, but wary adversaries caught up in
similar circumstances. Those circumstances had made for an
interesting, if uneasy truce between them over the past few
years. “He had a wife and a family.” Landon looked at the
projector as he took another swallow of his beer. Jachin considered the blonde he saw hanging on the senator,
remembered the smell of sex that surrounded the two. He
snorted. “Life’s a bitch. I’ll venture a guess that his
family is better off.” “You’re a cold-hearted sonofabitch,” Landon snarled in a
low tone, swinging his gaze back to Jachin. His hold on
the beer bottle was so rigid, his knuckles turned
white. “You call this surviving? You’ve lost your
humanity.” Fury swept through Jachin at Landon’s comment, knotting his
stomach. “Humanity is who made me what I am. You’ve been
rubbing shoulders with them so long you’ve lost sight of
the fact they’d hunt you down if they knew what you really
are. Maybe you should spend more time with your own kind.” Landon’s eyes narrowed for a long second before his gaze
swept the room. “They’re not all your enemies, Jachin.
Some have the capacity to understand and willingness to
embrace all kinds.” Jachin took in the people in the room as he addressed
Landon’s optimistic view of humans. “They are weak,
pathetic, short-lived shells of what they could be.” Landon grabbed Jachin’s forearm and dug his fingers into
the muscle. “The man I listened to, the one I came to
trust six years ago was a philosopher, an idealist with a
will to live. How can you believe in this prophesy you
mentioned and spout that bullshit at the same time?” The man’s words hit home and Jachin’s chest constricted.
He should never have told Landon what Ezra said before he
died, but Jachin figured he might need an ally in the
Lupreda world to fulfill the dying vampire’s prophesy. He jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp. Landon was
right. He couldn’t go on living like this. Stepping down from the stool, Jachin stared at the
projector screen where pictures of Ramos flashed on the
news. “We all get what we deserve.” Landon clenched his jaw before he spoke. “One day the
Slayer will screw up. The NYPD will call me to hunt you
down.” Jachin gave him a curt nod. “Fair enough.” A heavy weight spread across Jachin’s shoulders as he left
the pub. He knew his tenuous truce with Landon had
shifted. He didn’t miss the irony—that a werewolf,
descended from a Petri dish, had more humanity in him than
he did…a vampire born of man. Jachin’s boots echoed in the dark, narrow street as he made
his way toward the building that housed his loft
apartment. Car exhaust, rodent droppings, human food
remnants; from sour cheese to various nutty smells mixed
with the polluted rain hanging in the air, bombarded his
senses. As a backdrop to the smells, human and animal heartbeats
pounded in various stages, from excitement to slumber.
Every sound and scent penetrated his consciousness.
Shaking his head to try and block them all, he vowed to
never go so long without food again. Not only did the lack of nutrients wreck havoc with his
ability to adjust his senses, it also slowed his reflexes.
At least the money from this latest hit should sustain him
for a good three weeks. Unfortunately, the specialized blood Roach provided only
lasted forty-eight hours once the bags were exposed to air
and light, which meant he had to see Roach in a couple of
days to retrieve more food. He despised depending on anyone. At this point, with the money he had left, he could go two
more weeks before he’d have to kill again. He had a list
of clients waiting on him to be hungry enough to work. When Jachin reached the end of the road, he ignored the
bright yellow Caution, Dangerous Chemicals plastic
tape crisscrossed in front of the six foot tall industrial
grade metal fencing and building. Jachin sensed nothing but quiet peacefulness as he entered
his loft apartment and shrugged out of his trench coat.
Once he pulled the pints out of his coat’s deep pockets, he
tossed the coat on a side chair in his entryway and poured
the contents of a bag of blood into a martini glass he
retrieved from the kitchen. With a wave of his hand, he used his mental powers to turn
on the projector and sound system. While soft jazz music
filtered through the surround sound in the two thousand
square foot loft apartment, Jachin picked up his drink and
sat down in his butter soft black leather chair. Sipping his drink, he savored the taste as it slid down his
throat. It had been so long since he’d tasted untainted
human blood, he couldn’t describe the flavor if he had to.
As he took another sip, he knew this blood was missing
something. The spice of life was glaringly absent. It was the essence that made blood distinctive to a
specific person, that made human blood irresistible to his
kind. The human’s smell, the person’s flavor, their very
soul resided in their blood, giving it an added zing. All
the blood he’d bought from Roach tasted the same—bland.
Nothing to sink his fangs into. But with it, he survived. His gaze scanned past the shuttered windows that lined the
entire exterior wall and landed on the side wall with built-
in bookshelves. They were packed with books, leather-bound
originals in many cases. The library had cost him a small
fortune to collect over the years. Raising his glass in salute to the wall of books, Jachin
said, “I’m not the uncivilized, uncultured man you think I
am, Landon,” as he stood and approached his collection.
Surveying the section related to psychic phenomenon,
telepathy, and harnessing one’s mental powers, he smirked.
His studies had their uses. He’d been able to expand his
powers over the past decade. Now a thick layer of dust claimed the books’ surfaces. He
used to clean them like clockwork once a week. In the
past, the dusty sight would irritate him, but today he felt
nothing. Angry with himself for losing the simple joy of reading, he
downed the rest of his dinner and turned out the lights.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on him. He lifted his hand to
mentally turn off the music and the same blonde newscaster
from earlier came on the screen. Turning up the
projector’s sound, he waited to see if there were any new
updates on the Ramos story. “Good evening. Here’s the latest report on Senator Ramos’
murder. It is now believed that the assassination was done
by one person. The female witness does remember seeing a
man standing in the shadows as they exited the theatre, but
she never saw his face. Stay tuned for the midnight news
where we’ll interview the witness. And be sure to tune in
for tomorrow night’s special guest. We’ll be sitting down
with debut novelist Ariel Swanson and her controversial
book about vampires that’s causing quite a stir.” A human writing about vampires? The thought intrigued him.
Landon’s comment that he’d lost his humanity echoed in
Jachin’s head. He cast his gaze to his library once more.
It’d been at least three years since he’d bothered to open
a book. Jachin walked over to his desk and switched on his laptop.
Why not see what a human has to say about vampires? Once
he typed in “Ariel Swanson” on the Internet, he was
surprised to find hundreds of reviews of the woman’s book
already posted on the Web store’s review site. Jachin chuckled as he purchased the e-book version of Ms.
Swanson’s novel. The Vampires’ Return might make
for some entertaining reading tomorrow. After he’d downloaded the e-book and opened the file to
make sure he’d gotten the right version, he was about to
shut down the laptop when his gaze landed on the quote at
the bottom of the book cover page. They thought vampires were extinct. In truth, the
vampires were only waiting to fulfill the prophesy. Jachin’s entire body tensed. This human female wrote about
vampires…and a prophesy? Pulling out his chair, he sat, then scrolled down to
chapter one of The Vampires’ Return. He didn’t believe in coincidences.
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