Blood Rogue, #1 Read online

  Blood Rogue

  Linda J. Parisi

  BLOOD ROGUE

  By

  Linda J. Parisi

  Copyright © 2020 Linda J. Parisi

  * * *

  Edited by Tee Tate

  Cover Design by Mibl Art.

  All stock photos licensed appropriately.

  * * *

  Published in the United States by City Owl Press.

  www.cityowlpress.com

  * * *

  For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher at [email protected]

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior consent and permission of the publisher.

  Manuscripts are born into the world then they are molded and shaped into final form. BLOOD ROGUE is dedicated to Tee Tate, my awesome editor at City Owl Press, for helping me make my work more than worthy of becoming a book. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  Contents

  Want More City Owl Press Books?

  Keep Reading Paranormal Romance!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Interlude

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Interlude

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Sneak Peek of My Song’s Curse

  Keep Reading Paranormal Romance!

  Want More City Owl Press Books?

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Additional Titles

  Want More City Owl Press Books?

  Click here to sign up for the City Owl Press newsletter and be the first to find out about special offers, including FREE book days, contents, giveaways, cover reveals, and more!

  * * *

  Sign up now and become a City Owl Reader today! And join our City Owl Reader-Author group here for even more deals and a whole lot of community and fun!

  Want even more paranormal romance? Try MY SONG’S CURSE by City Owl Author, Poppy Minnix, and find more from Linda J. Parisi at www.lindajparisi.com

  Ultimate control has its downside, especially when it comes to romance. But will it be enough to keep them together?

  As a siren Lula Aglaope can bend anyone to her will with the smallest whisper, but she’d give up her power for one meaningful, honest conversation.

  She wants a normal life, like the open, true connections the humans seem to pull off with such little effort.

  When she meets Alexiares, God of Warding off Wars, all thoughts of normalcy fly out the window. The beautiful demigod cannot be controlled! He’s frustrating, irresistible...and utterly off-limits.

  Alex has watched Olympus slowly fall apart. The old gods continue their archaic control of the Universe, denying the progress of humans and other deities. But Alex has plans to repair the damage, and Lula is a major player.

  She just doesn’t know it yet.

  Falling for her is the worst idea. And just when things move in the right direction, danger arises that no one expects, plunging the sirens into the deadly Olympian spotlight.

  With Lula’s sisters missing, and a pile of broken laws surrounding them, will Alex and Lula change the Universe for the better or destroy it?

  BUY NOW!

  Chapter One

  Chaz

  Every city has a pulse, a vibration, a sound. Take New York City, for instance. The city that never sleeps; it’s unstoppable, frenetic, and definitely treble. Then there’s the new New York. Hoboken, New Jersey, the land of thirty-something’s tired of living four to a one-bedroom apartment, the city across the Hudson, anchored in the bedrock of the Palisades. Hoboken pounded out bass, slow, deep, rhythmic, and solid, like the beat of a human heart, the one organ a nine-hundred-year-old vampire would never take for granted.

  Charles Tower, Chaz to those who knew him best, stood in Beans— his guilty pleasure. He stared at the rows of jars with black beans, brown beans, beige beans, appreciating that in his human life, coffee would have been as foreign to him as a heavy metal band. As a human born in the year 1094AD, he would always wonder what the brew tasted like. He hoped it would be as heavenly as the aroma permeating the store, sweet, earthy, and pungent. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, feeling a little bit like an addict.

  Yes, he knew all about that word, as well as need and cravings, the likes of which a human could never understand. There was the blood, and there could only ever be the blood, even when he tried to enjoy something as simple as a coffee shop.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Would there ever be a time when he could step up to a cash register and pay for a bag of Arabica that he’d give away, without thinking about the river of life? Maybe he’d be better off thinking of the rogues, the out of control vampires that he’d had to kill too often lately.

  Frowning, he turned, left the store, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Mayhem assailed with a cacophony of sound. The blare of a car horn, the rumble of a truck over uneven pavement, to the thoughts of the hundreds of people he didn’t want to listen to. He tried to block out the sounds, to no avail. He stepped right into the path of three lovely women who parted like the Red Sea then came back together again as they passed. One, the blonde with the ponytail, looked back over her shoulder.

  Chaz stilled. Her round face could’ve used more chin and less cheekbone. She had dark brows and even darker rimmed glasses. But, there was something about the beautiful eyes behind the lenses. Bright, the color of a midday sky, filled with energy and curiosity and such life. God, he could drown in that gaze, never surface, and remain happy forever.

  Except for the blood.

  She turned to her friends, and the moment died the way moments like this do, except he heard her say, “Oh my God. I just saw the most gorgeous guy.”

  “What?” asked the tallest of the three. “Stacy? Stacy Ann Morgan? The geek-cop? Noticing—oh-my-goodness—” She placed a hand against her chest. “—a man?” Her tone oozed attitude.

  “Ease up, Kels.”

  Stacy. He liked that name. Curiosity piqued, and the irrational need to see those eyes again had Chaz wanting to hear more. He turned and followed them at a safe distance.

  “No way. This is simply too delicious. Maybe Stace’ll try and dissect him first. Wait. No. She’ll run a two-week background check on him right down to his seventh cousin’s middle name.”

  “Low blow, Kels,” the woman on her right said. Her shoulders drooped a little, then her back straightened. “You do realize she carries a gun, don’t you?”

  “Ladies…stop! I’m right here you know.”

  Yes, indeed, he th
ought.

  She walked with a long determined stride and had a trim, athletic body. She seemed to assess everyone and everything around her as she walked. Was that out of curiosity or protectiveness? By blocking out the myriad of voices around him, he also blocked out hers, so he’d have to find out.

  “Of course you are,” continued the one they called Kels. “But we know all about you quiet ones, don’t we? You may act shy around the opposite sex, but still, waters run deep and all, right?”

  They walked a few steps into Adrian’s. Chaz continued down the block. Sometimes prudence really was better. But then he pivoted, turning back. This time, not for the blood but for the want of simple human contact. Stopping in front of the steps, he hesitated again. There would only be one winner tonight, the blood, and for a moment that made him sad. He shook that off and walked through the door. They were standing in front of the bar like they were waiting for a table to the restaurant.

  He walked over and ordered a glass of Cabernet and leaned on the wood as he took a small sip. He watched Stacy’s gaze soften as she leaned toward the sad woman.

  “How are you holding up, Tori?”

  A woman wearing expensive-smelling perfume approached him, and he tore his gaze away. Every pore on her face was filled with artifice, and he shook his head, making it clear he didn’t want to be picked up. Her lips thinned at the rebuff, but she turned around and went back to her friends while he focused on the conversation he wanted to hear.

  “They say time heals. Some days it’s almost bearable. Some aren’t.”

  He watched Stacy reach out and hug her friend, wishing he had someone that deeply invested in his well-being, someone close. Vampires were singular and very territorial. They had to be to survive.

  While Stacy and the one she called Tori spoke together, the woman they called Kels turned to stare at him. Her brow lifted, her hips shifted so that the line of her leg drew his gaze. He palmed his chest and mouthed, “Who, me?”

  She nodded, offering a sly, knowing smile. He took his time pushing off the wood of the bar and sauntered up to her, already feeling her claws dig deep. She entwined her arm with his, but Chaz had no interest and extricated himself with deft precision. He ignored her pout and flashed them all a huge grin.

  “Good evening, ladies. I know this is incredibly forward of me, but might I buy you all a round while you wait? Charles Tower at your service.” He bowed, gracing them with the manners which had been proper in his time, and they hemmed and hawed, all except her. Stacy simply stared at him, assessing, head slightly cocked as she made her judgment. Funny, for the first time in just over a century, he didn’t want to be found lacking.

  You can service me anytime.

  How…unexpected. He nearly grinned. Then he heard, Where the hell did that come from? He wanted to ask the same question. Too bad this night was about need and not pleasure.

  Kels, the dark-haired one who was all talk licked her lips like he was some kind of treat. She turned him off, much too full of herself to be inviting. Tori, the sad one, frowned and eyed him up and down a couple of times, her gaze filled with mistrust. He let her see what she wanted to see, someone normal, someone human, and she nodded slightly. Then he claimed the prize, sinking into that incredible crystalline blue gaze once more, made even more delectable by the doubts she expressed.

  “Sir? What can I get you?”

  He started and looked up, indicating that the ladies each give their order to the bartender. “Put it on my tab.”

  Kels refused to give up, wedging her body into the tight space between the other women so that she separated him from her friends. Chaz steeled his features, daring her to touch him again. Her human instinct warned her, and she stepped back, allowing him to reach out and move Stacy away from getting stepped on. He trailed a light finger across Stacy’s skin as he let go, pleased to see her skin bead from his touch.

  “Do you come here often?” She winced, and he held up his hand, feeling a touch of dismay. “I know. Lousy pick-up line, right?”

  He cocked his head, gave her a rueful lift of the corner of his mouth, and let the truth ring through his words. “But I’ve been so overwhelmed by your presence that I don’t know what to say.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Okay, that came out a bit too much, didn’t it?”

  She nodded, and he drowned in her killer blues, which was hard to do for one already dead. “Shall I rephrase?”

  She stared, disbelief filling her gaze as she shouted her thoughts. Make that more than once.

  Outwardly determined and in control, that was very evident. But inside? How fascinating. “Perhaps I should start over?”

  She still didn’t answer.

  “You don’t talk very much, do you?”

  Her gaze flitted from her hands to his chest and then after a deep breath, made eye contact. But at that moment, her shoulders squared and she gazed at him openly.

  Her cheeks bloomed pink. “I work in a lab.” She half laughed. “The extent of my conversations run from who took an evidence bag to why the damned mass spec is down again.”

  She tightened her fingers around her glass and stared down at her drink again. Is this really happening?

  Now he couldn’t help himself as he grinned.

  Look at the simple curl of his lip—the arch of his brow.

  “Perhaps we could start with your name?”

  Her heart sped up, and he could hear the rush of her blood in her veins. His mouth watered. Chaz swallowed, hating his reaction to her. She seemed nice, too nice to simply be used.

  “Sorry.” Again, twin spots of pink tinged her cheeks. “Stacy. Stacy Morgan.” Nice going, dumb head. Probably thinks I’m sixteen now.

  Actually, Chaz found the combination of her boldness and insecurity intriguing and decided to reassure her.

  “I’m a bit rusty in the world of social gatherings myself,” he said.

  She certainly made for an interesting combination. Supposedly she was some kind of scientist, her friends called her a cop, but she carried an innocence about her he hadn’t encountered in a very long time.

  The bright light in her gaze dimmed with uncertainty. Chaz might be considered more human than his fellow vampires, but make no mistake, this moment was all about the blood and only could be about the blood.

  “Me too. Umm, let me introduce you. This is Kelly.” Chaz wondered if his message had been clear enough. She shook his hand and let go quickly. “And this is Tori.” Her sad friend was much more reserved and much less trusting.

  “Ladies? A pleasure to meet you both.” He inclined his head with a slight smile and leaned against the bar again. He picked up his glass, his gaze studying them over the rim. “This place is really busy tonight.”

  Kelly agreed. “More than usual.”

  Tori didn’t answer.

  He turned his attention back to Stacy. “I gather you’re here to celebrate? Special occasion?”

  “No,” she answered. “We try to meet up when we can.”

  “Then I wouldn’t be tearing you away from your friends if I asked.”

  Her nose scrunched up, making her glasses fall. She pushed them up with her finger. “Asked what?”

  “Would you like to get out of here? Grab a bite?”

  She gulped a deep draught of her drink then put her glass on the bar. He followed with his glass, still holding onto the bag of coffee. She seemed caught as she hesitated.

  “Somewhere quieter? I can hardly hear myself think.”

  Her heart began to flutter. “I’d like that.”

  With a nod, the bartender came over, and he handed the young man a hundred-dollar bill. “For the tab and anything else they want.”

  “Ladies? Again, a pleasure to meet you. I’ve given the bartender enough to cover your drinks and perhaps more. Stacy’s agreed to have dinner with me. So if you’ll excuse us?”

  Are you kidding me? For real? Kelly practically shouted.

  Tori was much more skep
tical and cautious. She threw Stacy a look. He couldn’t help but hear her shout. If I don’t get a text from the restaurant, I’m calling the cavalry.

  She had good friends. “Stacy, you won’t forget to send a text, will you? To let everyone know you’re safe?”

  “Of course,” she answered, nodding, looking ready to roll her eyes, so Chaz led the way outside, blowing out a deep breath before he gave her a smile.

  “Much quieter.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “You have some very good friends.”

  “Sometimes they forget I can take care of myself.” A wisp of hair had loosened from her ponytail to frame her face. She blew it off her cheek with a sideways breath.

  “I’m sure you can, but they also care about you.”

  “A little too much, but I guess I shouldn’t complain. Certainly not to someone I’ve just met.”

  He dipped his head, lifted a brow, and smiled. “Let’s make this a special occasion then. Our first meeting. The Chart House?”

  She shifted her pocketbook strap on her shoulder, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased. “I’ve been there. That would be lovely.”