Blood Vow.

Kyn Series.

Mina Carter.

Chapter 1.

Come on, sweetheart. Verrans a good man and he cares for you. You could do worse for a husband.

Maria rolled her eyes, doing her best to keep up the appearance of a cosseted but slightly spoiled n.o.blewoman as she turned to face her father.

Garen Ravensford stood behind her, a long-suffering expression on his face. She bit back a sigh. He was just like all the other vampire males she knew"honorable, protective, and utterly insufferable. Just like all the rest, he was totally convinced all women were delicate little creatures that had to be protected at all times. To be fair though, most vampire women were. They knew their place in the world. Which was to stay locked up in their ivory towers, looked after and wrapped in cotton wool all their lives. Their sole duty was to find the right man, or the man their daddy said was right, marry him and give birth to the next generation. A generation the ailing kyn race desperately needed.

She knew dozens of them, the daughters of her fathers friends. Not one of them would say boo to a goose. She, on the other hand, had always been a tomboy, apt to rush headlong into any new adventure. Climbing trees and pranking their fathers knights had always held more appeal than playing with dolls or dressing up. As shed gotten older, learning to ride and fight had taken over. Theyd considered her weird then, and now they kept their distance in case her freakishness rubbed off on them.

And there was the problem. She was a dhampir, a half-vampire. Since most died in the womb or shortly after birth, they were rare. She herself only knew of three. She was one, there had been one a couple of hundred years ago, and her kid sister Quashing the tide of anger and sadness that rose at the thought of Bella, she transferred her attention to her father, a set look on her face.

Dont look at me like that, her father said sternly, even if his lips did quirk a little. He would make a good husband.

She popped an eyebrow up. Verran was the perfect knight commander, polite and genteel And very, very traditional.

Yeah? So hes happy to marry a half-breed freak, is he?

Her father flinched. Just a little, but she caught it. That was the big old elephant in the room At just over thirty, she was in danger of being left on the shelf. In the human world her mother came from, she was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, but in the vampire world, she was considered barely more than a teenager, one who needed guidance in any and all decisions. But that didnt stop the practice of marrying girls off as soon as they were old enough. All her childhood friends were either married or planning their weddings.

Maria wasnt one of them.

No one wanted a half-breed freak for a wife, especially a knight like Verran. They might as well try to marry her off to the king himself. Even if a suitor could look past the fact she was half human, there was the fact that she even looked different. Short and curvy, rather than tall and elegant like most kyn women, she stuck out like a sore thumb. What man wanted something like that on his arm? No guy in his right mind, thats who. And certainly not Verran, not unless her father blackmailed him. There was a world of difference between caring for someone, like one would a sickly puppy, and true love. No bets on which Verran felt for her.

Shaking the bad thoughts off, she smiled brightly at her father. Itll all make right in the end, Im sure. Now, if you dont need me, I simply must go give Violetta a call. She was going over designs for the Marboroughs ball with her dressmaker and promised to give me all the gossip.

Rising on her tiptoes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and sashayed away, her full skirts brushing musically against the polished floor. Sweeping through the door at the end of the drawing room, she turned and then immediately ducked into the shadows behind it. The kyn as a race eschewed modern technology, their houses lit by candles and lamps instead of electricity, which meant there were plenty of shadows to choose from.

Holding her breath, she waited. As shed suspected, within seconds the door on the other side of the room opened.

She didnt go for it then? Verrans voice sounded so hopeful that shed said no that Maria grimaced. She didnt want to marry the guy, but a girl had some pride.

Her father sighed. Not yet, no, but give it time. Shes not getting any younger and all her friends are getting married. If they start having kids Maria closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door in front of her. Of course, that was how hed gotten Verran interested. All kyn males were hardwired to need to pa.s.s their genes on, but with fewer and fewer kyn being born each generation it was a goal that eluded many. The fact that she was half-human She might just be fertile enough to bear a child. That might persuade him to look past the fact she was dhampir.

She shook her head quickly. Not that it mattered. Verran was cute and all, with a tall, muscled frame, and blond good looks, but she wasnt looking to get married, or have kids anytime soon.

That had been her sisters dream, not hers.

Determination filled Maria, her back straightening as ice filtered through her veins. Bella would never get the big wedding to her Prince Charming she always dreamed of. The perfect dress, flowers The crystal carriage to take her to the temple. Shed never have the perfect little family shed chatted so excitedly about.

Because Marias gentle little sister, the one beloved by all even though she was a half-breed like Maria, had been stolen by rogue vampires and slaughtered in cold blood.

As hard as she tried, Maria couldnt stop the image forming in her mind. Bellas broken body when they brought her back home. Blood in her blonde hair, across her delicate features. The wrongness of the form hidden under the cloak her father wouldnt let her unwrap to give her little sister one last hug.

Marias eyes snapped open, boring into the wood in front of her as rage built within. Pushing off, she stepped back into the darkness. She had a job to do, and it had nothing to do with gossip and certainly nothing to do with that spoiled brat Violetta. Marias jaw set, she headed back to her own rooms and locked the door tightly behind her. Striding across the room, she threw open her wardrobe, hitting the catch on the panel at the back to reveal a hidden section.

Her smile was grim as she perused the black leather and shiny blades within.

The rogues had stolen her little sister, and now she was going to make them pay.

Married? Youve got to be f.u.c.king kidding me!

Marak, King of the Kyn, grimaced at the sound of laughter as it rolled through the large room and carried on pacing. He turned, his gaze sharp as he looked at the chuckling man lounging in the chair opposite the roaring fire.

Really? Could you find my predicament less amusing?

His companion just shrugged, not at all fazed by the deadly look as Marak flopped down in the chair beside him. With a sigh, Marak raked fingers through his close-cropped hair and glared at the fire in frustration.

This cant be happening. Freaking politicians, he muttered, not caring that Kalen heard the bitter note in his voice. Both warriors, theyd been friends since childhood.

Sorry, mate, you heard the man. Kalen was blunt as normal.

Earlier that night theyd sat in the Royal Hall as Elsveth, leader of the Lords Council, relayed the concerns of the council. It had been a lengthy list, covering everything from the cost of decent daylight shielding these days to local authority taxes on council properties. Marak had expected the complaint that the warrior caste were obsolete dinosaurs, but the attack over the fact that he still had no heir had been expected and unwelcome.

They want an heir, which means you need a woman. I love ya, man, but not that much. Besides, I dont have the right equipment. Kalens voice was full of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Marak fidgeted. His annoyance at the situation he was being forced into translated into movement. The rasp of leather whispered in the room as he shifted and crossed his leg over his knee, lounging in the large chair with the indolent grace inherent to all kyn.

Sothe Lady Ka.s.sandria doesnt catch your interest? Kalen stood up and strode over to the drink cabinet. He lifted a decanter and poured, swirling the contents in the heavy gla.s.s as he turned to look at Marak.

Leaning his head, Marak closed his eyes as a wave of hopelessness washed over him. He knew his duty, and hed known this day was coming. He was king, and a king needed an heir. The line needed to continue through his childrenhis sons. He wasnt conceited enough to think he might be lucky enough to sire a daughter on any woman, not with how rare female children were.

He kept his eyes closed. It was peaceful in the dark, the warmth of the fire on his face like the warmth of the sun hed never seen, only imagined.

Shes a very beautiful woman, he admitted.

But? Kalen demanded, his voice suddenly closer. Marak opened his eyes to see the warrior standing over him, a heavy tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. Born with the distinctive warrior marks adorning his body, Kalen was silent as a cat when he moved. And a sneaky b.a.s.t.a.r.d to boot. Many times Marak himself would have fallen to the rogues if Kalen hadnt had his back.

But what? He reached for the gla.s.s but the other warrior held onto it, his dark eyes unreadable.

I can hear the but. Shes beautiful and that figure would tempt a saint! Heaven knows it wouldnt be a hardship to bed her. h.e.l.l, if I had a shot at her Id start a d.a.m.n nursery! Kalen relaxed his grip on the gla.s.s, letting Marak take it, and frowned. So whats the deal?

Throwing the contents back in one move, Marak sucked his breath in as it burned all the way down to his stomach.

Shes not my bond-mate.

And? Kalen frowned, clearly puzzled. Bond-mates are rare, have been for centuries. Why else do the courts watch the humans, looking for the mark?

Marak grunted. Rare and cherished women, bond-mates were born to be the other half of the warrior they were destined for. A precious few vampire females were born with the mark each generation. Each time it happened, it sparked a search for the lucky male she belonged to.

If that had been the end of it, the kyn race would long have become extinct. But, by a stroke of luck or destiny, it had been discovered that some human females bore the mark as well and could be converted.

But there was a fly in the ointment. Where there were kyn, there were also rogues"kyn males who had succ.u.mbed to the blood rage and allowed darkness to flourish in their souls. They preyed on kyn and humans alike, killing indiscriminately. And there was nothing they liked more than finding one of the marked and killing her to deprive the kyn of fertile females. Unlike their other victims, the bodies of the marked were dumped in front of kyn houses, broken and b.l.o.o.d.y. One more female lost, and her male a step closer to darkness.

Marak sighed, the enormity of his races situation bearing down heavily on his shoulders. He tapped the empty gla.s.s against one leather clad leg, the hefty tumbler delicate in his large hand.

He focused on it. He was king, but his hands were more used to killing, marked with heavy calluses and bearing a myriad of small scars. In some ironic quirk of fate, hed been born with the warriors marks over his face and body, sealing his destiny twice over.

He traced the edge of a holster strap over his thigh. He was suited and booted for a night out on patrol with Kalen and the team. Human stories often had vampires as languid and hedonistic. Lovers not fighters. In his case, nothing could be further from the truth. He was no romance hero. Instead, he was something altogether more dangerous"a kyn warrior in the prime of his long life.

He put the gla.s.s down and rose in one lithe movement, the demon blood in him expressed in a fluid and predatory movement.

Move your a.s.s, K. We need to hit the streets.

Their patrols were waiting for them when they hit the compound"a group of low-rise buildings tucked away at the back of the estate. Unlike the rest of the estate, these buildings were squat and utilitarian. Heavy-duty shutters adorned the windows and doors, operated by remote from the control room deep inside, as much security as protection against sunlight. Strengthened steel bars sat behind the windows, preventing access should someone be lucky enough to actually get through the shutters. Lucky enough or stupid enough, anyone that got inside would then face warriors. Averaging six-foot five and a couple hundred pounds apiece, with years of combat experience, any intruder would have to be seriously suicidal.

Marak swept in through the doors, an ankle-length leather coat swirling around his powerful figure. A t-shirt and leather pants with heavy combat boots, all black, completed the ensemble.

Youre late, a voice announced from the back of the room. We should have been out an hour ago.

Feral, one of his warriors, rounded a row of lockers. Built along the lines of a small tank, ma.s.sive muscles corded his heavy frame. The lines of his warriors mark were startling against his skin. He swept a hand over his shaved head as he spoke.

The other teams left just after sundown. Mikal said to tell you hes got your lazy a.s.s nailed. Feral jerked a thumb toward a wipe board in the corner of the room where the patrol teams recorded nightly kills"some friendly but mission-specific compet.i.tion. Marak didnt care who took down the most rogues, as long as someone did. But compet.i.tion helped the teams bond. And with independent and highly aggressive warriors who had a tendency take that aggression out on each other when bored, Marak really needed them to bond.

Wed have been here earlier but the council happened. They want pretty boy married off so he can father a posse of brats, Kalen commented.

Feral looked at Marak in sympathy. All the warriors knew the constant battles Marak ran against matchmaking mothers and enterprising females with an eye on being the next queen.

Sowhich vision of loveliness are they offering on the sacrificial altar?

The question came from the back of the room as another figure rounded the lockers behind Feral. Dressed in leathers similar to Marak and every other guy in the room, the newcomer filled them out in an entirely different way.

Vixen, Marak nodded, an edge of respect in his voice.

All of the warriors in the room outweighed her, but none of them wanted to take her on in a fight. Tall for a woman, easily topping six feet, with the distinctive warrior markings tracing over her left temple and cheek, she was every young kyn guys wet dream. And, as the only female warrior, ever, a living legend.

She was dressed in black, as usual, ready to hit the streets. But her t-shirt was scandalously tight over an impressive rack, and her leather pants were virtually sprayed onto her curvy hips and a.s.s. Some of the men in the room watched her out of the corners of their eyes, appreciation on their faces, when she wasnt looking. Which wasnt often. Vixen was as sharp as a razor and twice as deadly.

Marak looked her in the eye, his expression indicating he wasnt about to take any s.h.i.t. Not tonight. Not when they were already late for patrol.

Ka.s.sandria of House Santien.

Stacked. Vixen shrugged, contempt in her voice. And brainless. Shed be good for s.e.x, but if you want good conversation youd do better moving in Ugly over there. She motioned to Kalen.

Bite me, b.i.t.c.h, Kalen threw over his shoulder, busily arming up from the large weapons locker in the corner. Only his and Maraks weapons still remained; the rest of the small a.r.s.enal the locker had contained was already secreted about the bodies of the patrol.

You wish! she snarled back without looking. It was a ritual the two of them had been going through for years.

You two finished with the sweet talk? Maraks patience was wearing thin. Because the rogues are gonna think its d.a.m.n Christmas without us out there.

Yeah, were finished. Blondies too chicken to admit she fancies the pants off me. Kalen grinned as Vixen, predictably, flipped him a hand gesture.

f.u.c.k you, K., she snarled and stomped out the door.

Feral sighed and threw a look at Kalen. I wish you wouldnt do that Ill be sc.r.a.ping rogue gore off all night. Head bowed in resignation, he set off after his patrol partner.

Kalen chuckled. He turned back to Marak and caught the disapproving look.

What? She likes me, really!

Yeah right, just tone it down a little. Last thing we want is psycho warrior-b.i.t.c.h to flip out on us without any rogues to point her at, ok?

Marak made for the weapons cabinet and calmly started to tool up. It didnt take him long, speed borne from long experience, and within minutes he and Kalen were headed outside to where a black SUV with darkened windows awaited them.

So. Kalen stopped Marak from opening the front pa.s.senger door with a hand, his dark eyes alive with interest. What you gonna do about the lil woman issue?

Marak sighed in frustration, having an inkling now of how Feral felt earlier. Kalen was like a d.a.m.n terrier once he had hold of something.

Not a clue. Im not marrying Ka.s.sandria for sure. Shes a nice girl and all, but Im not gonna be dictated to. He frowned in annoyance. Ill pick my own woman, not have her picked by some jumped-up lord. Would serve them right if I took the first woman I see out there as mate.

Chapter 2.

Maria wasnt scared. A little apprehensive maybe But not scared, definitely not scared. Yeah, apprehensive was a good word, she decided as she walked along the darkened streets, her hands thrust deeply into her pockets.

Who was she kidding? She was scared out of her mind and trembling like a d.a.m.n leaf.

Pausing for a moment at the edge of an alley, she opened her senses into the inky darkness beyond the reach of the street lights. Nothing. The alley was as dead as the rotting fish she could smell.

She mentally ticked off the alley as clear and moved on, scenting the night air as she hunted her prey. It was unusual for a woman to be walking alone at night, particularly on these streets, but Maria didnt care. She had enough vampire blood to conceal herself from the humans and stay out of the way of any of the knights who regularly patrolled this area.

In fact, the only thing she really had to worry about were the warriors. Dinosaurs nearer to the kyns demon ancestors, they hunted rogues with a ferocity and brutality that almost matched the creatures themselves. She shuddered, looking more keenly into the darkness around her. The stories said you didnt know there was a warrior near until his blades were in your throat, so she really didnt want to meet one The next alley proved as fruitless as the last, so she moved on again. Perhaps the rogues had decided to stay in tonight. A small snort escaped her. Yeah, right. The rogues taking a night off? Not likely.

Her full lips compressed, although that didnt really give her the bada.s.s expression she was subconsciously hoping for. At five foot nothing and weighing as much as a wet kitten, Maria knew she was best described as cute.

Long hair, small face and big eyes gave her a doll-like appearance, one shed traded on since her sisters death to make herself seem harmless and conceal what she was really up to. Not that shed had to try too hard.

She blew out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her face. Shed definitely missed the queue for bada.s.s, especially in the looks department, despite the fact she was in head-to-toe black leather. In att.i.tude though, she was streets ahead of bada.s.s and heading into b.i.t.c.h territory.