Author D.B. Reynolds has made me fall in love with her
vampires, again.
Rajmund Gregor is a master of his own making. Bowing down
has never been his forte, and vampire politics -- just
boring. A surprise phone call leads to a visit from the
West Coast Vampire Lord. When Raphael and his mate Cynthia
make a visit, Rajmund gets the one thing he never dared
hope for - an alliance with Raphael. The alliance only
convinces Rajmund that he is the only one capable of
gaining control and his time is now. Yet, Rajmund finds he
has other things on his mind...specifically, Raj finds he
can't stop thinking about the beautiful woman he had in his
arms.
When his sire, the Vampire Lord Krystof, summons him
home, Raj finds himself wondering if there is anything left
of Krystof worth saving. As Krystof has been descending
into madness, someone has been terrorizing the women of
Buffalo. Someone the police are saying is one of Krystof's
own. Has Rajmund's sire lost his fragile hold on realty? Or
has someone decided to move in due to the blatant loss of
control? Rajmund is determined to find and destroy whoever
is behind these disappearances so that he can restore order
to a territory he wants to hold.
While Raphael and Cyn may have found 'mated bliss', Cyn's
best friend, Sarah, finds herself living a nightmare.
Sarah's boring life as a professor is about to crumble as a
childhood secret returns. A secret that no one knows. A
secret that would destroy the life she has so carefully
constructed. Sarah is haunted by dreams. Dark and dangerous
dreams. Dreams about terrified girls, alone in the dark,
kidnapped, and stalked in their cells by something dark.
Something evil. Something that leaves her trembling in the
night, terrified to sleep, terrified to dream of women that
are all too real. When the picture on the front page of the
paper looks too familiar, Sarah knows that she may be the
only one who can save the girls in her dreams. When the
police politely turn her away, Sarah finds she has no one
else to turn to but the vampires. Can she trust the all
too seductive Rajmund? Can she bear her soul to a vampire
she barely knows?
The only words I have for author D.B. Reynolds are... "Write
Faster!" RAJMUND is another stunning book in this powerful
series! It just keeps getting better and better! Where is
book four?
Buffalo, New York—Thundering waterfalls, great sports
teams . . . and a treacherous Vampire Lord who is slowly
losing his mind.
New York City vampire Rajmund Gregor is the undisputed
master of The Big Apple. He bows to no one but his Sire,
the Vampire Lord Krystof, who has ruled the Northeast for
hundreds of years. But when Krystof summons Rajmund to his
headquarters in Buffalo, Raj finds his master slowly
descending into madness and his territory crumbling around
him. Raj is the only one of Krystof's children strong enough
to seize power, but he'll have to save his master before he
can destroy him. Several women have gone missing and the
local police are convinced a vampire is behind it.
Is Krystof so lost to reality that he's capturing and
murdering human women? Is a rogue vampire moving into
Krystof's territory for the kill? Or is it something far
more insidious, something that could threaten the existence
of vampires everywhere?
Sarah Stratton is living a lie. Her
past holds a secret she shares with no one-not even her good
friend Cynthia Leighton, the West Coast vampire lord's mate.
It's a secret that could destroy her carefully constructed
life as a professor at a Buffalo university. It's also a
secret that could save the lives of the missing women. To
save them, however, she must enter Buffalo's vampire
community and put herself into the care of Rajmund Gregor.
But can she trust Raj, the dangerously seductive vampire who
wants to lay claim to far more than her secrets?
Excerpt
Prologue
Buffalo, New York
It was totally dark. She touched her fingers to her eyes
to make sure they were open. They were. But the room was
like pitch black, like she couldn’t see her freakin’ hand
in front of her face. Her mom must have pulled the stupid
blinds down behind the curtains again to save energy.
Regina was all for saving energy, but she wasn’t a damn bat
either. She sat up with an irritated groan and reached for
the small lamp near her bed, nearly falling on her face
when it wasn’t there. She frowned and felt around blindly
with both hands, finally hitting something solid. A small
table lamp, but not hers. The first stirrings of unease
coiled in her chest as her hand felt its way up the
unfamiliar base to an old-fashioned push-button switch. A
press of her thumb yielded a dim, yellow light.
She stared, abruptly wide awake. This wasn’t her room.
The strange lamp should have warned her, but somehow she’d
still expected to see her familiar bedroom with the old-
timey furniture she’d inherited from her Gramma Lena and
the cheesy posters she’d bought with her twenty-first
birthday money two years ago, the ones she’d thought were
so sophisticated, but turned out to be just weird. But this
wasn’t her room; it wasn’t even her house. So where the
hell was she?
She blinked, forcing down her fear and thinking
furiously. She’d gone out with friends. Right, okay.
Katie’s bachelorette party. But after that . . . She’d
probably had too much to drink. All the signs were there,
the sick stomach, the pounding head. God, had one of her
friends dragged her home with them? Had she been that out
of it? A wave of guilt swept over her, replacing the fear
and tightening her chest with remorse. She could hear her
mom’s voice lecturing her, saying, "If you can’t drive, you
catch a cab or go home with one of the girls instead. Just
make sure you call me, Regina, so I don’t worry." She
clutched the rough blanket close against a sudden chill and
swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet touched a
cold, damp floor and she frowned at the sensation. A
concrete floor? She looked up. No windows either. Was this
a basement? She didn’t remember any of her friends having
guest rooms in—
It all came rushing back—the lights on the dark street,
ice gleaming on the sidewalks. She’d almost fallen. No she
had fallen. She flushed in embarrassment and remembered a
strong hand gripping her arm, keeping her from hitting the
ground. She’d glanced up, wanting to thank her rescuer and
then—
She jumped as a noise broke the silence, something loud
and heavy, a door slamming into a wall. She froze,
listening, expecting footsteps. She heard a soft sob
instead, a woman’s voice somewhere nearby. She stood,
taking a tentative step toward the door which was little
more than an outline in the dim light. "Hello," she
whispered, wondering if the other person could hear her.
She reached for the door knob. "Hello?" she said again,
louder this time.
A heavy footstep scuffed in the hallway and she snatched
her hand back, holding herself tightly. Her heart was
racing suddenly, her breath fast and shallow, making her
lightheaded as she strained to hear. A key rattled and the
unseen woman began to cry, louder now, pleading. Regina
stumbled back onto the bed, pulling her feet up, wrapping
her arms around her legs, trying to be small, to be
invisible.
The woman began to scream . . .
Chapter One
Sarah Stratton’s eyes opened, a scream filling her
throat, choking her as she fought it down, as her hand
slapped the switch next to her bed. Light flooded the room
and she sat up, her gaze taking in every familiar detail.
She inhaled, a deep sucking breath that was more of a sob,
like in her dream.
"Stop it," she told herself. It had been a dream, a
nightmare, nothing more. The darkness, the terror—they
weren’t real. Not this time. Hot tears flooded her eyes and
she dashed them away angrily. Climbing out of bed, she
stumbled over to her closet. There was no point in trying
to go back to sleep, she had to get up soon anyway. She had
two classes to teach and blue books to grade. Might as well
get an early start, get in her morning jog, maybe have a
real cup of coffee at the local Starbuck’s instead of
sleeping that extra hour. It wasn’t because she was afraid
of the dream, afraid the fear would come back, the
helplessness—
"Stop it, Sarah," she repeated.
She pulled on her winter jogging clothes with quick,
sharp movements—warm leggings, a sweatshirt over a sensible
athletic bra. It was nearly spring, but she’d learned the
hard way that cold weather lingered here in Buffalo,
especially in the mornings. She twisted her long blond hair
into a secure ponytail before bending to lace up her shoes.
Downstairs, she grabbed her warm windbreaker from the
closet and zipped her cell phone and ten dollars into a
pocket, adding her keys once she’d locked the front door
securely behind her.
She paused for a moment to adjust to the freezing air,
noting the slick spots on the short walkway down to the
street. The girl in her dream—Regina she’d called herself—
had fallen on a walkway much like this one. Sarah shook her
head adamantly, refusing the memory. A dream, she reminded
herself. She did a few warm-ups, leaning against the old
wooden railing, stretching her hamstrings. The light was
still burning on her landlady’s side of their shared porch,
but it was too early for even that industrious lady. But
not too early for Sarah.
She took the stairs down at a quick jog, stepping to the
side and running across the dead grass to avoid the slick
pavement. On the street, she settled into her regular pace,
legs pumping smoothly, breath easing in and out in a steady
rhythm, her body warm despite the icy morning. And finally,
she permitted herself to think about the dream and what it
might mean.
It had been years since she’d had a nightmare that bad,
the kind that brought her awake screaming, that brought
back the cold and the damp, the despair . . . the wisp of
humid breath over a bare cheek, the heat of a hand as it
reached to touch—
Sarah stopped in the middle of the empty street,
breathing hard, her heart pounding. She bent over, hands on
her knees, each breath a gasp for air.
"Hey, you okay?" She jumped at the man’s voice, nearly
stumbling as she backed away, eyes wide. He raised his
hands, palms out and took a step back. "Sorry. I just
thought—"
Sarah forced a smile, trying to look normal, but she
could tell by the look on his face that it wasn’t
working. "No, I’m sorry," she said, fighting to even out
her breathing. "I didn’t hear you coming. Yeah, I’m fine.
Bad night last night."
The other jogger nodded, clearly not believing her, but
anxious to get away from the crazy lady. "If you’re sure—"
"Yeah. Yes." She waved him away. "Thanks for stopping,
though. I appreciate it." She began to walk slowly, hands
on her hips, cursing her own stupidity. She didn’t even
look up as the helpful man jogged past, not wanting to see
the concern, or the curiosity, on his face.
The dreams, the damn, stupid dreams. Why were they back?
And why now?
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