sunfall

In the final installment of the everafter series, Valentine Darrow and Alexa Newland work to rebuild their relationship even as they find themselves at the heart of the struggle that will determine a new world order for vampires and wereshifters. To survive, they must defeat the growing threat posed by Balthasar Brenner, who has been a thorn in the side of the vampire-wereshifter Consortium for centuries.

The search for Brenner leads Val and Alexa deep into the heart of the Alaskan wilderness, where they must confront Brenner’s forces and either secure peace between the paranormal races, or die in the attempt.

sunfall

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everafter

nevermore

nightrise

sunfall

By Nell Stark

Running With the Wind

Homecoming

sunfall

© 2012 By Nell Stark and Trinity Tam. All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-701-1

This Electronic Book is published by

Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 249

Valley Falls, New York 12185

First Edition: May 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Credits

Editor: Cindy Cresap

Production Design: Susan Ramundo

Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

For the last four years, we have shared our lives with Valentine Darrow and Alexa Newland. While mostly amenable roommates, they have been at times stubborn and demanding. They have dictated how we spent our summer vacations and what time we went to bed at night. They have caused more than a few arguments between us. They have also inspired some rather passionate “apologizing.”

We thought it would be bittersweet to bring Val and Alexa’s story to a close, but really, nothing has changed. They are still here, sipping chai at the corner Starbucks and jogging the pre-dawn streets of the East Village. Every new park and restaurant and curio shop we encounter in New York City inevitably inspires a conversation about whether or not it might be one of Alexa and Val’s haunts. They’ve wormed their way into our world and we’re grateful that you have invited them into yours.

As we close the book on Val and Alexa’s adventures, we are first and foremost grateful to Cindy Cresap, who has helped us to weave together the many threads of their story.

We are likewise indebted to Radclyffe for sowing the seed of this idea years ago, for her invaluable feedback on this narrative, and for giving us the opportunity to publish with Bold Strokes Books. We’d like to thank all of the wonderful, hardworking, and selfless people at BSB—Connie, Lori, Lee, Jennifer, Paula, Sheri, and others—for helping to put out and market quality product year after year. The members of Team BSB, including our many fellow authors, continue to inspire us and we count you all in our extended family.

Finally, our thanks go out to each reader who picks up one of our books. This series is, above all, for you, and we hope you enjoy it.

For Radclyffe—the Blood Prime of Clan BSB

The War Room was in chaos, and I took comfort in the light pressure of Valentine’s hand at the small of my back as we entered. Crimson alarm lights flickered dramatically, and the digital marquee winding around the room proclaimed a state of “Code Red.” People either were milling about aimlessly or were huddled together in small groups, and the air hummed with their cumulative whispers. They darted frequent glances toward the large plasma screens that covered the walls, all of which were focused on one image: the starkly imposing façade of the front entrance to the New York City Four Seasons.

In a matter of hours, Helen Lambros, Master vampire of New York, would walk to her death through that door. On the other side waited Balthasar Brenner, a powerful alpha werewolf who had vowed to destroy the vampire/wereshifter Consortium. Brenner was holding an entire delegation of vampires hostage, and his price for their release was Helen’s surrender. He had already declared his intent to imprison her in the penthouse suite and watch her die as the sun rose.

Brenner’s vendetta against vampires had been centuries in the making. He considered them to be evolutionarily inferior to both humans and Weres, and his mission was simple: genocide. He had almost eradicated the bloodline of the Missionary, one of the seven great vampire clans, and the one to which Val belonged. For weeks, before she’d begun turning others, she had been the only surviving member and had claimed the titles of both Missionary and blood prime by default. Brenner had made three separate attempts on her life during that time, but she had always managed to foil him.

It was no surprise that Brenner despised the Consortium, an alliance specifically designed to help both species work together toward common aims. As far as he was concerned, wereshifters and vampires had no common aims. Every shifter who associated with the Consortium was, by his reckoning, a traitor. Now he was trying to make a powerful statement by forcing Helen, the Master of New York and head of the Order of Mithras, to go willingly to her own death.

If his plan succeeded, he would be able to claim credit for dispatching both the Were and vampire leaders of the most important Consortium base on the East Coast. Last month, Malcolm Blakeslee, Weremaster of New York, had been shot in the head by one of Brenner’s assassins. He had spent several days in a coma before suddenly shifting. Initially, the doctors had taken his transformation as a good sign—a necessary part of his healing process. But for weeks, he had been living in the arena as a lion and many feared he had gone feral. In his absence, his assistant and my good friend, Karma Rao, had taken over his duties.

“There’s Constantine.” Val pointed to the glass walls of the small conference area across the room. Within, Constantine Bellande, the werepanther who had sired me, was locked in a heated debate with Leon Summers, the Consortium’s head intelligence officer. Even at a distance, I could make out the flush that suffused Constantine’s face and neck.

“Let’s find out why they look so murderous.” I led the way, noticing several stares directed toward Val as we crossed the floor. Had it not been for Brenner’s deadly ultimatum, Valentine Darrow’s miraculous return to the sunlight would have been the news monopolizing the rumor mill.

After Val had been turned almost two years ago, I had chosen to become a shifter in order to sustain her forever. Not only were Valentine and I deeply in love, we were also attuned to each other at the deep chemical level. For her, my blood was special. The vampire parasite that had colonized Val’s bloodstream recognized my red cells as a substitute for her own, and so long as I was the only one who fed her, she would retain her soul and the ability to endure the sun. Unfortunately, thanks to Brenner, a wereshifter civil war had broken out while I’d been traveling in Africa over the summer, and I hadn’t been able to return to Valentine as planned. She had lost control, and the Consortium physicians had given her a transfusion. Thus began her descent into darkness, and for several agonizing months, I had believed her to be lost to me forever. But then, the discovery of an ancient myth had rekindled my hope that Val could recover. After traveling to Argentina and tracking down a legendary plant with miraculous healing powers, I had been able to restore her soul.

I reached for her hand and she squeezed gently in reassurance. We’d had less than a day together before Brenner’s ultimatum had plunged the Consortium into bedlam. Part of me wanted to turn around and leave—to escape the city, drive into the mountains, and seclude ourselves in a cozy cabin where we could rediscover each other slowly and thoroughly. But a week of languid lovemaking was a luxury we’d have to indulge in after we solved this latest crisis.

When I pushed open the conference room doors, both men turned to regard me with angry expressions. My inner panther growled in response, but I refused to let her distress show on my face. “Problem, gentlemen?”

“Just a friendly disagreement about methodology.” Constantine’s voice was taut, the air around him fairly shimmering with tension. He was close to shifting, and I wondered how much of his volatility had to do with his personal feelings about Helen Lambros. I’d always suspected him of being at least a little in love with her, and now she was about to walk into a death trap with her eyes open. Moreover, she had just been reunited with a former lover, Solana Carrizo, whom she had believed to be dead for the past century. If my suspicions were correct, Constantine had multiple reasons for being on edge.

At that moment, Devon Foster, the vampire head of Consortium security, barged through the doors. “She’s planning to leave in five hours. That doesn’t give us much time.”

Val braced her arms on the table. “Run us through how the exchange will work. Will Brenner release the hostages when she arrives?”

“‘Once she’s in custody,’ were his exact words.”

Val grimaced. “That phrase is a semantic minefield.”

I slid into the chair closest to her. “We’ll need two plans: one for extracting the hostages if Brenner doesn’t let them go and the other purely focused on Helen.”

“If he doesn’t release the delegation,” said Constantine, “his terms are forfeit and we have every right to go in and take them. And Helen.”

“His terms have nothing to do with this,” countered Summers. “That hotel is full of humans, and we’ll almost certainly be apprehended by their law enforcement if we turn it into a war zone.”