{"id":7811,"date":"2018-03-26T19:21:07","date_gmt":"2018-03-27T00:21:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=7811"},"modified":"2018-08-14T17:45:39","modified_gmt":"2018-08-14T22:45:39","slug":"wild-hunger-chapter-one","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/?page_id=7811","title":{"rendered":"Wild Hunger – Chapter One"},"content":{"rendered":"

PROLOGUE<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"\u201cNoooooo!\u201d A little girl\u2019s voice echoed through the hallway. The cry was followed by footsteps, more yelling, and a petulant squeal.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s mine! You give it back right now, Connor stupid Keene!\u201d<\/p>\n

The dark-haired boy stuck his tongue out at her\u2014the tiny blonde he relished torturing\u2014then tore down the hallway, holding aloft the plastic sword he\u2019d taken from his enemy. \u201cVictory!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

She followed him, Mary Jane shoes padding down the carpeted hallway, but he was nearly a foot taller, and she knew she couldn\u2019t catch him. Not by running. So she called in a reinforcement.<\/p>\n

\u201cDaddy! Connor stupid Keene won\u2019t give me my sword!\u201d<\/p>\n

Connor stupid Keene stopped and spun around, then leveled his best glare at Elisa Sullivan.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a prince,\u201d he said, sticking his thumb against his chest. \u201cAnd I can take your sword if I want!\u201d He was seven, and she only five and a half, so he was obviously the more mature of the two of them.<\/p>\n

She jumped up to grab the sword but couldn\u2019t reach it. \u201cGive it back, you\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. you\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018You\u2019 what?\u201d he asked with a wily grin, spinning around to keep the toy out of her hands. \u201cWhat am I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. you\u2019re\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. you\u2019re a stupid boy\u2014that\u2019s what you are!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cChildren.\u201d<\/p>\n

They froze, then turned back toward the doorway to Elisa\u2019s father\u2019s office and looked warily at the vampire who filled it. \u201cIs there a problem?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Mr. Sullivan,\u201d said Connor, scowling at his companion.<\/p>\n

Green-eyed Elisa, just as wily as he was, stuck out her tongue at Connor, then batted her eyelashes at her father. \u201cHe took my sword,\u201d she said in a small, soft voice she knew was guaranteed to get her way. \u201cAnd he won\u2019t give it back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSon, did you take her sword?\u201d<\/p>\n

They turned again, saw a tall man who seemed to fill one end of the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Dad,\u201d Connor said as his father walked toward him. Connor held out the sword and let Elisa take it back, but scowled when she stuck her tongue out at him. Again. She is so spoiled, he thought.<\/p>\n

Gabriel Keene grinned wolfishly, crossed his arms over his chest. \u201cI\u2019m glad we resolved this peacefully.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ethan Sullivan smiled, one hand braced against the doorframe as he watched his daughter and her nemesis do what they did best. \u201cAs am I. Do we need to talk about the House rules again?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Daddy.\u201d Elisa tucked the sword behind her back.<\/p>\n

\u201cSon?\u201d Gabriel asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Dad.\u201d Connor shifted from foot to foot.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe talked about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

As she bit her lip, Elisa looked up at Connor and saw the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. She didn\u2019t like being teased\u2014or not that much, anyway\u2014but she really didn\u2019t like that look on his face.<\/p>\n

She stepped forward, putting her small body between Connor and his father.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was my fault,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Arching an eyebrow, Gabriel crouched down, hands clasped in front of him. \u201cWas it, now?\u201d<\/p>\n

Worriedly, she looked back at Connor, then at his dad, and nodded once.<\/p>\n

Gabriel leaned in and whispered quietly, \u201cIs it your fault, or do you just not want Connor to get in trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n

In the just-slightly-too-loud whisper of a child, she said, \u201cI don\u2019t want Connor to get in trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d He nodded gravely, then stood again, Connor moving to stand beside him. \u201cI think we\u2019ve gotten things cleared up, then,\u201d he said, then ruffled his son\u2019s hair.<\/p>\n

Connor grinned at him, leaned against his father.<\/p>\n

And stuck his tongue out at Elisa.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

CHAPTER ONE<\/strong><\/p>\n

Vampires were made, not born.<\/p>\n

All except one.<\/p>\n

All except me.<\/p>\n

I was the daughter of vampires, born because magic and fate twisted together. I\u2019d spent nineteen years in Chicago. Tonight, I stood nearly four hundred feet above Paris, several thousand miles away from the Windy City and the Houses in which most of its vampires lived.<\/p>\n

Around me, visitors on the second level of the Eiffel Tower sipped champagne and snapped shots of the city. I closed my eyes against the warm, balmy breeze that carried the faint scent of flowers.<\/p>\n

\u201cElisa, you cannot tell Paris goodbye with your eyes closed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not saying goodbye,\u201d I said. \u201cBecause I\u2019m coming back.\u201d<\/p>\n

I opened my eyes, smiled at the vampire who appeared at my side with two plastic cones of champagne. Seraphine had golden skin and dark hair, and her hazel eyes shone with amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo Paris,\u201d I said, and tapped my cone against hers.<\/p>\n

It had been four years since I\u2019d last stepped foot in Chicago. Tomorrow, I\u2019d go home again and visit the city and spend time with family and friends.<\/p>\n

For twenty years, there\u2019d been peace in Chicago among humans and sups, largely because of efforts by my parents\u2014Ethan Sullivan and Merit, the Master and Sentinel, respectively, of Cadogan House. They\u2019d worked to find a lasting peace, and had been so successful that Chicago had become a model for other communities around the world.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s why Seri and I were going back. The city\u2019s four vampire houses were hosting peace talks for vampires from Western Europe, where Houses had been warring since the governing council\u2014the Greenwich Presidium\u2014dissolved before I was born. And vampires\u2019 relations with the other supernaturals in Europe weren\u2019t any better. Chicago would serve as neutral territory where the Houses\u2019 issues could be discussed and a new system of government could be hammered out.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. What is the word? Wistful?\u201d The vampire beside me smiled. \u201cAnd you haven\u2019t even left yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m building up my immunity,\u201d I said, and sipped the champagne.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou love Chicago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a great city. But I was\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. a different person in Chicago. I like who I am here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paris wasn\u2019t always peaceful. But it had given me the time and distance to develop the control I\u2019d needed over the monster that lived inside me. Because I wasn\u2019t just a vampire.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.<\/p>\n

Seri bumped her shoulder against mine supportively. \u201cYou will be the same person there as you are here. Miles change only location. They do not change a person\u2019s heart. A person\u2019s character.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hoped that was true. But Seri didn\u2019t know the whole of it. She didn\u2019t know about the half-formed power that lurked beneath my skin, reveled in its anger. She didn\u2019t know about the magic that had grown stronger as I\u2019d grown older, until it beat like a second heartbeat inside me.<\/p>\n

Sunlight and aspen could kill me\u2014but the monster could bury me within its rage.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d spent the past four years attending \u00c9cole Dumas, Europe\u2019s only university for supernaturals. I was one of a handful of vampires in residence. Most humans weren\u2019t changed into vampires until they were older; the change would give them immortality, but they\u2019d be stuck at the age at which they\u2019d been changed. No one wanted to be thirteen for eternity.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t been changed at all, but born a vampire\u2014the one and only vampire created that way. Immortal, or so we assumed, but still changing and aging.<\/p>\n

The university was affiliated with Paris\u2019s Maison Dumas, one of Europe\u2019s most prestigious vampire Houses, where I\u2019d lived for the past four years. I\u2019d had a little culture shock at first, but I\u2019d come to love the House and appreciate its logical approach to problem solving. If Cadogan was Gryffindor, all bravery and guts, Dumas was Ravenclaw, all intellect and cleverness. I liked being clever, and I liked clever people, so we were a good fit.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d had four years of training to develop the three components of vampire strength: physical, psychic, and strategic. I graduated a few months ago with a sociology degree\u2014emphasis in sup-human relations\u2014and now I was repaying my training the same way French vampires did, with a year of mandatory armed service for the House. It was a chance to see what I was made of, and to spend another year in the city I\u2019d come to love.<\/p>\n

I was three months into my service. Escorting delegates from Maison Dumas to Chicago for the peace talks was part of my work.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many suitcases are you bringing?\u201d<\/p>\n

I glanced at Seri with amusement. \u201cWhy? How many are you bringing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFour.\u201d Seri did not travel lightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll only be in Chicago for four days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have diplomatic responsibilities, Elisa.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sipped my champagne. \u201cThat\u2019s what French vampires say when they pack too much. I have a capsule wardrobe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that is what American vampires say when they do not pack enough. You also have diplomatic responsibilities.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have responsibilities to the House. That\u2019s different.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh,\u201d she said, smiling at me over the rim of her drink. \u201cBut which one?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaison Dumas,\u201d I said, in an accent that was pretty close to perfect. \u201cI\u2019m not going to Chicago on behalf of Cadogan House. It\u2019s just a bonus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI look forward to meeting your parents. And I\u2019m sure they\u2019ll be glad to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be glad to see them, too. It\u2019s just\u2014I\u2019ve changed a lot in the last few years. Since the last time I went home.\u201d<\/p>\n

They\u2019d visited Paris twice since I\u2019d been gone, and we\u2019d had fun walking through the city, seeing the sights. But I still felt like I\u2019d been holding myself back from them. Maybe I always had.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not about you or Cadogan or Chicago,\u201d I\u2019d told my father, when we\u2019d stood outside the private terminal at O\u2019Hare, in front of the jet that would take me across the world. I was struggling to make him understand. \u201cIt\u2019s about figuring out who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

In Chicago, I was the child of Ethan and Merit. And it had been hard to feel like anything more than a reflection of my parents and my birth, which made me a curiosity for plenty of sups outside Cadogan House who treated me like a prize. And the possibility I might be able to bear children made me, at least for some, a prize to be captured.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d wanted to be something more, something different.\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. Something that was just me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou couldn\u2019t fail us by living your life the way you want,\u201d my father had said. \u201cIt\u2019s your life to live, and you will make your own choices. You always have.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d tipped my chin up with the crook of his finger, forcing me to meet his gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are some decisions that we make, and some that are made for us. Sometimes you accept the path that\u2019s offered to you, and you live that path\u2014that life\u2014with grace. And sometimes you push forward, and you chart your own path. That decision is yours. It\u2019s always been yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want you to go, because I\u2019m selfish. Because you are my child.\u201d His eyes had burned fiercely, emeralds on fire. \u201cBut if this is your path, you must take it. Whatever happens out there, you always have a home here.\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019d kissed my forehead, then embraced me hard. \u201cTest your wings,\u201d he\u2019d quietly said. A suggestion. A request. A hope. \u201cAnd fly.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had flown. And I\u2019d read and walked and learned and trained, just like everyone else.<\/p>\n

In Paris, I\u2019d been just another vampire. And the anonymity, the freedom, had been exhilarating.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe all carry expectations,\u201d Seri said quietly, her eyes suddenly clouded. \u201cSometimes our own, sometimes others\u2019. Both can be heavy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seri came from what the European Houses called \u201cgood blood.\u201d She\u2019d been made by a Master vampire with power, with money, with an old name, and with plenty of cachet\u2014and that mattered to French vampires. Seri had been the last vampire he\u2019d made before his death, and those of his name were expected to be aristocrats and socialites. Unlike in the US, French vampires selected their own Houses. She\u2019d picked Maison Dumas instead of Maison Bourdillon, the House of her Master. That hadn\u2019t made her many friends among Bourdillon\u2019s progeny, who decided she was wasting her legacy.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you excited to see Chicago?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am excited to see the city,\u201d she said. \u201cIf not optimistic about what will come of the talks. Consider Calais.\u201d<\/p>\n

The most recent attack had taken place in Calais a week ago. Vampires from Paris\u2019s Maison Solignac had attacked Maison Saint-Germaine because they believed they weren\u2019t getting a big enough cut of the city port\u2019s profits. In the process, four vampires and two humans had been killed.<\/p>\n

The European Houses had lived together peacefully, at least by human standards, for hundreds of years. But after the GP\u2019s dissolution, all bets were off. There was power to be had, and vampires found that irresistible.<\/p>\n

More than a dozen delegates from France, including Seri and Marion, the Master of Maison Dumas, would participate in the talks. Marion and Seri would be accompanied by nearly a dozen staff, including Marion\u2019s bodyguard, Seri\u2019s assistant, Odette, and me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d I said. \u201cI don\u2019t know how successful it will be, either. But refusing to talk certainly isn\u2019t doing much good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seri nodded and drank the last of her champagne as two guards passed us\u2014one human, one vampire\u2014and silenced the chatter. They wore black fatigues and berets, and looked suspiciously at everyone they passed. Part of the joint task force created by the Paris Police Prefecture to keep the city safe.<\/p>\n

The vampire\u2019s eyes shifted to me, then Seri. He acknowledged us, scanned the rest of the crowd, and kept walking, katana belted at his waist.<\/p>\n

Vampires in the US and Western Europe used the long and slightly curved Japanese swords, which were sharp and deadly as fangs, but with a much longer reach.<\/p>\n

Sorcerers had magic. Shifters had their animal forms. Vampires had katanas.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s Jav\u00ed,\u201d Seraphine whispered, and watched as they kept moving, then disappeared around the corner. Jav\u00ed was a Dumas vampire doing his year of service.<\/p>\n

These weren\u2019t the only guards at the Eiffel Tower. Humans and vampires alike stood at the edge of the crowd below, wearing body armor and weapons and trying to keep safe the tourists and residents enjoying a warm night in the Champ de Mars.<\/p>\n

We turned back to the rail, looked over the city. So much white stone, so many slate roofs, so many people enjoying the warm night. But the specter of violence, of fear, hung over it. And that was hard to shake. No city was perfect, not when people lived in it.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet us take a photo,\u201d Seri said, clearly trying to lift the mood. She put an arm around me, then pulled out her screen and angled the narrow strip of glass and silicon for a perfect shot.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo Paris!\u201d she said, and we smiled.<\/p>\n

The moment recorded, she checked the time before putting the device away again. \u201cWe should get back. The Auto will arrive in a few hours.\u201d She slipped an arm through mine. \u201cThis will be an adventure, and we will be optimists. And I look forward to pizza and Chicago dogs and\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0. Comment dites-vous \u2018milk shake de gateau\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCake shake,\u201d I said with a smile. \u201cYou and my mother are going to get along just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

We\u2019d only just turned to head toward the elevator when screams sliced through the air, followed by a wave of nervous, fearful magic that rolled up from the ground.<\/p>\n

We looked back and over the rail.<\/p>\n

Even from this height, they were visible. Five vampires in gleaming red leather running through the green space with katanas in one hand and small weapons in the other.<\/p>\n

Not knives; there was no gleam from the flashing lights on the Tower.<\/p>\n

What was shaped like a knife, but held no metal, and would turn a vampire to dust?<\/p>\n

Humans had been wrong about vampires and crosses, but they\u2019d been absolutely right about stakes. An aspen stake through the heart was a guaranteed way to put the \u201cmortal\u201d in \u201cimmortal.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know which House the vampires were from. I was too high to see their faces, and the gleaming red leather didn\u2019t give anything away. Leather was a vampire favorite, and French vampire Houses appreciated fashion as much as the French fashion houses did.<\/p>\n

But their intent was clear enough. They ran through the crowd, weapons drawn, and took aim at everyone in their path. Screams, sharp and terrified, filled the air. I watched one person fall, another dive to the ground to avoid the strike, a third try unsuccessfully to fight back against the vampire\u2019s increased strength.<\/p>\n

Paris was under attack. My stomach clenched with nerves and anger.<\/p>\n

I wanted to help. I was stronger and faster than most humans, and trained as well as any vampire from Maison Dumas would have been. But there were rules. There were roles and responsibilities. The Paris Police, the task force members, were supposed to respond to events. I was just a civilian, and only a temporary one at that. I worked for Dumas, and should have been focused on getting Seri safely back to Maison Dumas.<\/p>\n

But the screams\u00a0.\u00a0.\u00a0.<\/p>\n

The guards who\u2019d walked past minutes before ran back to the rail beside us and stared at the scene below in horror. And neither of them make a move toward the ground. It took only a second to guess why.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you jump?\u201d I asked Jav\u00ed, the vampire.<\/p>\n

He looked at me, eyes wide. \u201cQuelle?\u201d<\/p>\n

I had to remember where I was, shook my head, tried again. \u201cPouvez-vous sauter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNon.\u201d Jav\u00ed looked down. \u201cNon. Trop haut.\u201d<\/p>\n

Too high. Most vampires could jump higher and farther than humans, and we could jump down from heights that would easily kill humans. But the trick required training, which I\u2019d learned the hard way\u2014believing I could fly from the widow\u2019s walk atop Cadogan House. I\u2019d broken my arm, but vampires healed quickly, so that hadn\u2019t been much of a deterrent. My mother had taught me the rest.<\/p>\n

Jav\u00ed couldn\u2019t jump, so he\u2019d have to wait for the elevator or take the hundreds of stairs down to ground level.<\/p>\n

But I didn\u2019t have to wait.<\/p>\n

I squeezed Seri\u2019s hand, told Jav\u00ed to take care of Seri, and hoped he\u2019d obey.<\/p>\n

Before anyone could argue, or I could think better of it, I slid the katana from his scabbard, climbed onto the railing, and walked into space.<\/p>\n

I descended through rushing darkness. A human might have had a few seconds of free fall before the deadly landing. But for a vampire, it was less a fall than a long and lazy step. Maybe we compressed space; maybe we elongated time. I didn\u2019t understand the physics, but I loved the sensation. It was as close to flying as I was likely to get.<\/p>\n

The first level of the Eiffel Tower was wider than the second, so I had to jump down to the first level\u2014causing more than a few humans to scream\u2014before making it to the soft grass below. I landed in a crouch, katana firmly in hand.<\/p>\n

My fangs descended, the predator preparing to battle. While I couldn\u2019t see it, I knew my eyes had silvered, as they did when vampires experienced strong emotions. It was a reminder\u2014to humans, to prey, to enemies\u2014that the vampire wasn\u2019t human, but something altogether different. Something altogether more dangerous.<\/p>\n

Two humans were dead a few feet away, their eyes open and staring, blood spilling onto the grass from the lacerations at their necks. The vampires who\u2019d murdered them hadn\u2019t even bothered to bite, to drink. This attack wasn\u2019t about need. It was about hatred.<\/p>\n

I was allowed only a moment of shocked horror\u2014of seeing how quickly two lives had been snuffed out\u2014before the scent of blood blossomed in the air again, unfurling like the petals of a crimson poppy.<\/p>\n

I looked back.<\/p>\n

A vampire kneeled over a human woman. She was in her early twenties, with pale skin, blond hair, and terror in her eyes. The vampire was even paler, blood pumping through indigo veins just below the surface. His hair was short and ice blond, his eyes silver. And the knife he held above the woman\u2019s chest was covered with someone else\u2019s blood.<\/p>\n

Anger rose, hot and intense, and I could feel the monster stir inside, awakened by the sheer power of the emotion. But I was still in Paris. And here, I was in control. I shoved it back down, refused to let it surface.<\/p>\n

\u201cArr\u00eate!\u201d I yelled out, and to emphasize the order, held my borrowed katana in front of me, the silver blade reflecting the lights from the Eiffel Tower.<\/p>\n

The vampire growled, lip curled to reveal a pair of needle-sharp fangs, hatred burning in his eyes. I didn\u2019t recognize him, and I doubted he recognized me beyond the fact that I was a vampire not from his House\u2014and that made me an enemy.<\/p>\n

He rose, stepping away from the human as if she were nothing more than a bit of trash he\u2019d left behind. His knuckles around the stake were bone white, tensed and ready.<\/p>\n

Released from his clutches, the human took one look at my silvered eyes and screamed, then began to scramble away from us. She\u2019d survive\u2014if I could lure him away from her.<\/p>\n

The vampire slapped my katana away with one hand, drove the stake toward me with the other.<\/p>\n

I might have been young for a vampire, but I was well trained. I moved back, putting us both clear of the human, and kicked. I made contact with his hand, sent the stake spinning through the air. He found his footing and picked up the stake. Undeterred, he moved toward me. This time, he kicked. I blocked it, but the force of the blow sent pain rippling through my arm.<\/p>\n

He thrust the stake toward me like a fencer with a foil.<\/p>\n

The movement sent light glimmering against the gold on his right hand. A signet ring, crowned by a star ruby\u2014and the symbol of Maison Saint-Germaine.<\/p>\n

I doubted it was a coincidence Saint-Germaine vampires were attacking the ultimate symbol of Paris only a few nights after they\u2019d been attacked by a Paris House. While I understood why they\u2019d want revenge, terrorizing and murdering humans wasn\u2019t the way to do it. It wasn\u2019t fair to make our issues their problems.<\/p>\n

I darted back to avoid the stake, then sliced down with the katana when he advanced again.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou should have stayed in Calais,\u201d I said in French, and got no response but a gleam in his eyes. He spun to avoid that move, but I managed to nick his arm. Blood scented the air, and my stomach clenched with sudden hunger and need. But ignoring that hunger was one of the first lessons my parents had taught me. There was a time and a place to drink, and this wasn\u2019t it.<\/p>\n

I swept out a leg, which had him hopping backward, then rotated into a kick that sent him to his knees. He grabbed my legs, shifting his weight so we both fell forward into the grass. The katana rolled from my grasp.<\/p>\n

My head rapped against the ground, and it took a moment to realize that he\u2019d climbed over me and grabbed the stake. He raised it, his eyes flashing in the brilliantly colored lights that reflected across the grass from the shining monument behind us.<\/p>\n

I looked at that stake\u2014thought of what it could do and was almost certainly about to do to me\u2014and my mind went absolutely blank. I could see him, hear the blood rushing in my ears, and didn\u2019t have the foggiest idea what I was supposed to do, like the adrenaline had forced a hiccup in my brain.<\/p>\n

Fortunately, beyond fear, and beneath it, was instinct. And I didn\u2019t need to think what would bring a man down. He may have been immortal, and he may have been vampire. Didn\u2019t matter. This move didn\u2019t discriminate.<\/p>\n

I kicked him in the groin.<\/p>\n

He groaned, hunched over, and fell over on the grass, body cowed over his manhood.<\/p>\n

\u201cAsshole,\u201d I muttered, chest heaving as I climbed to my feet and kicked him over, then added a kick to the back of his ribs to encourage him, politely, to stay there.<\/p>\n

Two guards ran over, looked at me, then him.<\/p>\n

\u201cElisa Sullivan,\u201d I said. \u201cMaison Dumas.\u201d Most vampires who weren\u2019t Masters used only their first name. I\u2019d gotten an exception since it wasn\u2019t practical for a kid to have just one name.<\/p>\n

They nodded, confiscated the stake, and went about the business of handcuffing the vampire. I picked up the katana, wiped the blade against my pant leg, and dared a look at the field around me.<\/p>\n

Two of the other Saint-Germaine vampires were alive, both on their knees, hands behind their heads. I didn\u2019t see the others, and unless they\u2019d run away, which seemed unlikely, they\u2019d probably been taken down by the Paris Police or Eiffel Tower guards. Fallen into cones of ash due to a deadly encounter with aspen.<\/p>\n

Humans swarmed at the periphery of the park, where Paris Police worked to set up a barrier.<\/p>\n

Some of the humans who\u2019d survived the attack were helping the others. Others stood with wide eyes, shaking with shock and fear. And more yet had pulled out their screens to capture video of the fight. The entire world was probably watching, whether they wanted to see or not.<\/p>\n

I found Seri standing at the edge of the park, her eyes silver, her expression fierce and angry. She wasn\u2019t a fighter, but she knew injustice when she saw it.<\/p>\n

I walked toward her, my right hip aching a bit from hitting the ground, and figured I\u2019d passed my first field test.<\/p>\n

I suddenly wasn\u2019t so sad to be leaving Paris.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Ready for more? Order Wild Hunger now:<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a> \"\"<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a> \"\"<\/a>\"\"<\/a>\"\"<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Note: \u00a0I am an Amazon affiliate and may earn a commission if you\u00a0buy goods\u00a0at\u00a0Amazon through\u00a0one of my links.<\/em><\/h6>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

PROLOGUE \u201cNoooooo!\u201d A little girl\u2019s voice echoed through the hallway. The cry was followed by footsteps, more yelling, and a petulant squeal. \u201cIt\u2019s mine! You give it back right now, Connor stupid Keene!\u201d The dark-haired boy stuck his tongue out at her\u2014the tiny blonde he relished torturing\u2014then tore down the hallway, holding aloft the plastic[…]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":7513,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"template-fullwidth.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-7811","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7811","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7811"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7811\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8030,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7811\/revisions\/8030"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7513"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chloeneill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7811"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}