Phoenix Rising (9 page)

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Smoke in Moonlight

Blood in Fire

Books 2 & 3 of the Phoenix Inc. series are out NOW!

Phoenix Fallen

Phoenix Broken

Jules' story is out NOW, here's a sneak peek.

PHOENIX FALLEN

Jules watched the sexy singer, almost mesmerized, the thud of his undead heart hard and slow. What was she playing at?

He'd been coming to this lounge for the past couple weeks. Her voice had lured him in one rainy night and now he was hooked. Ever since coming back from Paris, since that night full of blood and death when his life had been wrenched from him, Jules had been trying desperately to get something back. Something that he suspected was lost forever.

He
was lost. Spinning more and more out of control with each passing night. The only thing that stopped the vertigo so far was the music. Her music. Her voice. She sure as hell wasn't hard on the eyes either. Though she did make other places hard.

From the look in her eyes, she damn well knew it, too.

Jules frowned and shifted in his seat. He didn't need this shit on top of everything else.

When the set finished, she left the stage and came straight at him, signaling the bartender as she passed. Jules sighed. He'd been propositioned before, he knew what it looked like.

He also didn't care for it, as a general rule, even if the woman was as hot as this one.

It was flattering, sure, but Jules liked to be the pursuer. Both Kelsey and his other best friend, Fannie, had given him endless crap for what they called his unenlightened attitude, but he didn't give a damn. He was the way he was. It wasn't that sexually-aggressive women emasculated him, as Fannie had teased many times.

It was just that they took all the fun out of things.

He mumbled under his breath as she dropped into the seat with a graceful bounce, curves popping out everywhere. It was a shame, too. This one looked like she'd be a helluva lot of fun.

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine..." Her growly imitation of Bogie was spot on.

Despite himself, Jules' lips curved. "You know that line isn't meant for strangers."

Her head tilted; all that lush, fiery hair falling in waves to one side, caressing the soft cream of her skin…baring her throat. Jules swallowed as the hunger inside him growled once to make its presence known. As if he could forget what he had become. His grip tightened on his drink.

Fuck, not
that.
Not here.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, the redhead with the voice straight out of blues heaven smiled at him.

"So don't be a stranger. I'm Clarissa…Rissa…"

"Styles. I can read a damn marquee." His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. She did a slow blink with those big blue eyes.

"There a problem, big guy?"

"Nah." He took a sip of his drink. "Just in a bit of a mood." He wasn't going to encourage her, but he supposed there was no need to be a dick about it. Jules wanted to come back and hurting her feelings would make that uncomfortable. Listening to her sing was one of the only things he looked forward to anymore. Hell, sometimes it was the only thing that got him through the endless nights.

"I was hoping the song choice might help with your ‘mood’." Her tone was teasing, like the soft stroke of her fingers now on his arm. He stiffened, realizing something for the first time as she touched him, as her smell reached out to him…

How the fuck had he missed that?
Rage made the bar darken as his vision was suddenly shot with red.

“It's a great song." Jules raised his eyes to hers, no longer concerned in the least about her feelings. "Tad obvious, though, don’t you think?” His voice was cutting, but she didn't seem to notice.

“Why waste time being coy? I want company and you look like you could use some.” The pressure of those trailing fingers increased.

Jules looked her up, down. Then up again. His gaze sharp enough to rip the clothes right off her.

“I’m not looking for company," he didn't bother to hide his derision. "Especially not your kind.”

Stung at last, Rissa drew back, her tone cooling. “What’s the problem, not into white girls?”

His disdain deepened as he got to his feet. “Not into vampires.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “But, sweetie…
you’re
a vampire!”

His lip curled. “Believe me, I know.”

Without another word he left her there, staring after him.

The white girl comment had pissed him off. Skin was skin to Jules. The colors it came in were far less important than what was underneath. He did have a certain weakness for redheads, though. Especially ones built like that one. All lush curves and long lines. Then there was that goddamn voice. He thought he'd walk through hell itself to hear that smoky, soulful voice.

And yeah, he'd wanted her; for a minute there he'd been really tempted, despite her being the aggressor.

Had
wanted her. Past tense. Because Jules sure as hell wasn't going to let himself have her after what he'd just found out.

It was bad enough he had to be a fucking vampire, without him
fucking
a fucking vampire.