Black Heart

Published by Evernight Publishing at
Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2013 Karyn
Gerrard

ISBN:
978-1-77130-245-6

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Marie Medina

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or
distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this
book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without
written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied
in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To
any and all readers, who continue to buy my books, know you are
deeply appreciated.

To Evernight Publishing for
accepting my vampire saga. Hopefully, there will be more to come. I
love my tortured vamps.

BLACK HEART

Blackthorne Clan, 3

Karyn Gerrard

Copyright © 2013

Glossary

Blood Lust
—A perfect blending of the
blood and sex need, the two are intertwined. While most Vampires
now slake their blood needs with a plasma bag, they still
experience the roar of the Blood Lust.

Dhampyre
—Born of a mating between a
Vampire and a human. Half-Vampires are extremely rare. Life
expectancy unknown though it is surmised it is several hundred
years.

Formator
—
The name given to a Vampire who “turns”
another. They become that person’s “maker” and they train the new
Vampire to accept their new life-state and become their guardian or
sponsor.

Lycans
—Second in the Wolfen
hierarchy and almost extinct.
They are also wolf shape-shifters but
have Were tendencies, such as shifting into a Were during the new
moon.

Quarter
—Even more rare. Born of a
mating between a Dhampyre and a human. The person in question has
one-quarter Vampire blood. Lifespan also hundreds of years but not
as long as a Dhampyre.

Mate Bond
—
(for those with Vampire blood)
A
complete joining of mind, heart and soul with another person. Often
first identified by scent. When the bond is verbally accepted, the
one with Vampire blood “marks” their mate and drinks their blood to
seal the bond.

Oriundus
—
A Vampire resurrected from ash. Forbidden
by the Bureau and out of practice for centuries. Oriundus Vampires
are soulless and were used as assassins in the past. Dangerous and
unpredictable.

Primoris
—A Vampire not turned, but an
“original”, a first. Very powerful and rare. It is not certain who
created these first Vampires.

Sectators
—Mercenary hunters of the
Shadow World. Their primary objective, to ensure no harm comes to
humans. They hunt down and destroy any creatures that break this
covenant. They also have been known to be hired by one faction to
attack another.

Shadow World
—All beings that are not
human.

The Concealment
—A rare malady or
madness that strikes select Vampires, usually “turned” ones. It has
varying levels of madness, and the attacks can be centuries apart.
While in the Blood Lust, a Vampire can kill without knowing it. Any
Vampires found with The Concealment are destroyed.

The Hunt
—In the past, all Vampires
“hunted” for their blood, selecting victims to drink from. The
Bureau organized blood outlets for Vampires at the turn of the 20th
Century. Very few Vampires hunt today.

The Rapture—
A state of sexual
oblivion that only someone with Vampire blood can achieve. It does
not happen often. When it does the Vampire is lost in a
blood-fueled “other plane” for a short span of time.

Thropes—
The elite of the three
factions of Wolfen creatures in the Shadow World. They are born
wolf shape-shifters and are very powerful and devious.

Twilight
—
Lost in a place between two
life-states and between two mortalities. A deep coma in which the
person does not age. Neither human nor Vampire.

Weres
—
Werewolves.
They are the drones of the Wolfen. You
have to be born a Thrope or a Lycan, but Weres are made. Only a
Thrope can make a Were. A Were turns into a wolf-man beast during
the full moon.

Chapter One

If a Vampire needed a more
diverse hunting ground, he couldn’t go wrong with
Halifax, Nova
Scotia. The seaport was the biggest city in Eastern Canada and
boasted a vibrant and colorful past. The city also had the most
bars per capita of any major urban area in Canada. As Deegan Black
walked through the downtown core late Saturday night, he could
easily see why. The city center was alive and pulsating with life.
Music of all sorts poured out into the streets, along with many
revelers. Pausing by the Split Crow Pub on the corner of Duke and
Granville Streets, he listened as a live band played energetic
Celtic music. He closed his eyes for a moment and was transported
back to his native Ireland.

Jaysus, how long had it been? He’d last
visited the emerald isle in 1908 and hadn’t lived there since 1698.
His Irish lilt all but gone, the accent only reared its musical
cadence when he was angry, aroused, or when he cursed. Otherwise,
he sounded as Canadian as everyone else. He inhaled deeply. Being a
Vampire, he could sense the intense emotions all around him, lust,
merriment, avarice, and misery. Humans. Nothing had changed during
the centuries.

Slaking
his blood and sex urges were
the reasons he prowled the downtown streets. Most civilized
Vampires in the twenty-first century obtained their blood fix from
a plasma bag. However, old habits died hard. There was something
innately thrilling about indulging in The Hunt, as Vampires called
it. The big city on a Saturday night became ideal hunting grounds.
Desperate women looking for the life and love connection that was
so fleeting filled the streets. Deegan opened his eyes and turned.
A female leaned against the wall and gazed at him intently. Under
the glow of the pub sign and muted streetlights, she appeared
attractive enough. He didn’t care; he wouldn’t be looking at her
face. Deegan moved toward her with an elegant glide perfected over
centuries. He was hard already, and not for this lady, but in
anticipation of the coming feast. Reaching for the woman’s hand, he
smiled. She didn’t resist his invitation. They walked for a while
in indifferent silence. There was a dark alley he used for his
snacking and assignations. Deegan led her around the corner, and
the sounds of sex reached his enhanced hearing. Bloody hell,
someone was already here.

The woman giggled. “You know, with the
gold earring, the goatee, and longish black hair, you look like a
pirate!”

“
Ummmm,” he replied
absently.

How pithy of the partially
drunken doxie. He
was
a pirate in one of his many incarnations, Blackthorne the
Pirate from the 1700s, bloodthirsty—how ironic—and known for his
daring night raids. He still indulged in smuggling runs to keep the
spark of adventure alive in his tattered soul.

Deegan stopped cold in his
tracks. His heart compressed in his chest and tightened beyond
measure. Up against the brick wall, a woman was being fucked quite
thoroughly by a man whose hips were all but grinding her into the
building facade. Raylene Nightwood, Dhampyre daughter of his best
friend, Raynor Nightwood. She stared right at him, sensing his
presence, and why not, since Raylene was half-Vampire. Her
luscious, full lips curved into a smug smile. She wrapped her long
legs around the man’s hips and urged him to go faster, her eyes
never leaving Deegan. Fangs distended, and she bit the man in the
neck as he climaxed. The man groaned, and his body shook with a
violent release. A low, animal snarl escaped Deegan’s mouth as his
fists clenched. His self-control slipped, and the desire to rip the
moaning idiot from Raylene’s body and take his place flooded his
mind. He’d managed over the many decades to mask his desire for
Raylene. The impenetrable wall between them stood strong and firm.
The reasons now seemed trivial. To him, the grounds for avoiding
her meant something. For one thing, one did not fornicate with
one’s best friend’s daughter, as Deegan considered that rude and
tactless to the extreme. There were other reasons. He couldn’t tear
his eyes away as blood rushed to his already granite-hard
cock.
Damn
her.

The woman shoved his arm. “What’s
going on?”

The fury raging through his body was
beyond all measure. Deegan grabbed the woman’s arm and moved a few
feet away around the corner. Two could play that game. He
forcefully pushed the woman face first to the brick
wall.

“
Take it easy!” she called out,
a giggle escaping her lips. “I do like it rough.”

Deegan leaned in close and whispered in
her ear. “Good. Rough it is.”

****

Raylene
Nightwood’
s
fangs retracted as soon as she climaxed. She ran her tongue across
the man’s neck to seal the small puncture wounds. Curling her lip
in distaste, she pushed at his chest until his condom-covered,
semi-erect cock slipped from her body.

“
Wanna get a drink?”

The man
tucked his dick back into his
pants. Raylene frowned. His blood didn’t even taste good, and his
so-called skill he bragged about left a lot to be desired. She
hiked her dress back down and adjusted her pushed-aside
thong.