Home

Vampire Books

All Books

The Dhampir

“If we were human,” Hunter said, “I would ask you all the standard questions about why you want to enter my service.” His eyes flared with hungry determination. “But we are not human, and there is a surer way to see if you and I will suit.”

Genevieve swallowed in sudden dry nervousness. Stupid. She’d known what he’d expect. She just hadn’t known how much she’d dread the revelation of her secrets. “A psychic union.”

He nodded, rising to his feet. “But it will require some preparation. Come.”

She looked at the square, masculine hand he extended to her. Putting her palm in his, Genevieve let him tug her to her feet. Again, his magic rolled through her, and her body responded with shivering waves of heat and need, so intense she had to bite back a moan. Her Dhampir body craved his with a strength she’d never felt before.

And it scared the hell out of her. She didn’t want to be this vulnerable.

Hunter threaded her hand through the crook of his arm and escorted her across the carpeted floor to a door in the wall behind his desk.  She wondered if he could hear her heart thumping like a rabbit’s. Probably.

This is stupid. Vampires always form psychic unions with their Dhampir lovers. Her mother had told her once that the mental link made passion even sweeter. Yet a knot of tension gathered in her belly as they stepped into the suite of rooms that lay beyond his office….

Beyond lay a small room with curving plaster walls and no windows at all. Great walnut beams supported the ceiling, and the floor was an elegant mosaic. Tiny stones of turquoise and blue formed a pentagram within a silver circle. White candles burned at each of the star’s points, and a pallet lay at its center.

Hunter stopped her before she could step into the pentagram. “Allow me to prepare you,” he murmured, and reached for the buttons of her blazer.