Scions: Resurrection (1 of 3 free samples)
COPYRIGHT
Scions: Resurrection by Patrice Michelle. Copyright 2008 by Patrice Michelle.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.
SCIONS: RESURRECTION
Patrice Michelle
I dedicate this book to my family. I love you all for listening to every new idea with avid interest and for supporting me and my crazy writing schedule.
To my readers, thank you for your continued support. It means so much to me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
http://www.dailylit.com/books/scions-resurrection/acknowledgments
CHAPTER 1
A death for a life.
Jachin leaned against the rain-slicked brick 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 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'd 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's 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 knowledge 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 theater's back door, 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 back 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 blond 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, short curls bouncing 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 stun 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 of 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 theater.
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 behind the Dumpster in 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 last 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 were being burned from the inside out.
Jachin bit back an 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."
Scions: Resurrection
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