Night Breed © Copyright 2011 Lorraine Kennedy

Born the daughter of a witch, Sarah is no stranger to magic. But when she meets an immortal, she quickly discovers that nothing can compare to the magic of being loved by a vampire.

Coming from a long line of powerful witches, the only thing Sarah has ever wanted is to have a normal life, but a normal life is not part of her destiny. She is one of the immortal sisters, and her fate is one of darkness. But within that darkness, she will discover a love that she could never have imagined.

While Nicole and the Light Seekers search for the two remaining sisters, Sarah is on her own and unaware that she is the target of an ancient and powerful vampire - a vampire that wants her dead.

Darrien is a cold and ruthless vampire. He kills without conscience, and is the perfect assassin to rid the ancients of the immortal sisters, but when he looks into Sarah’s eyes, he is consumed with a fiery passion that not even his bloodlust can overcome.

    When she inhaled, the heat scorched the tender flesh of her throat and lungs. Flames leaped at the thick fabric of her skirt. Soon her clothes would catch fire and sear the flesh beneath the fabric. She could already feel the heat, but she refused to cry out. Staring out at the crowd gathered around her, she mentally cursed all that were present. Their bloodthirsty eyes gazed in her direction, waiting for the instant that she would take her last breath.

He stood apart from the crowd, hidden in the shadows. She did not need to see him, she knew who he was. Even now, she could hear his dark whispers promising her immortality, if she would accept his poisonous kiss.

Her skirt caught fire. The flesh of her legs sizzled and blistered - the excruciating pain quickly chasing away her will to live.

“Burn witch … burn!” The crowd chanted over and over.

“May God have mercy on your soul.” The clergyman’s voice was weak, drowned out by the angry - unforgiving crowd.

Gasping for air, Sarah’s eyes flew open. The blankets were tangled around her legs, and for a brief moment she panicked, believing that she was still tied to the wooden stake. She frantically tore away the blankets so that she could examine her legs for burns, but there was no evidence of the blisters that had been there in her nightmare.

Taking a deep breath, she fell back into her pillow and closed her eyes.

It was stress.

She had been under too much stress. The last week of spring semester had been hell and now the stress was catching up with her.

With that thought in mind, Sarah tried to drift off to sleep. Just as she started to relax, the double windows burst open and a strong wind blew through the room. She sat up and stared in the direction of the windows. The wind tore at the lavender curtains, shredding one panel and nearly pulling it off the curtain rod.

Slipping out from beneath the covers, Sarah went to the window. The full moon was obscured by the storm clouds that had gathered over the sea.

“Saraaah,” a faint voice called out to her from the dark.

Sarah held her breath, waiting to see if she would hear the voice again.

Had it been her imagination?

“Saraaah.” The soft male voice seemed to drift on the wind.

Leaning out the window, she peered into the darkness below, but could see no one. Nothing seemed out of place in her aunt’s perfectly manicured gardens. Another burst of wind drove her back from the window.

Pushing against the gale, Sarah forced the window closed. Giving up on sleep she slipped on her robe. Maybe if she did some reading, she could relax enough to fall asleep.

Just as she came to the conclusion that she hadn’t really heard anything at all, the windows again flew open.

“Saraaah.” The whispering voice seemed to be one with the wind.

Stepping to the window, Sarah was startled when she saw a figure lurking in the shadows. The man stood near the hedge maze, not in full sight, but was not exactly hidden either. He stared up at her - a strange light burning in his eyes.

He was beautiful, but dark. Even from where she stood at the window she could feel the danger. A sense of foreboding settled around her like a heavy cloak. Sarah’s first thought was that it was her time and the angel of death had come for her. Then she thought that he might be a dark specter - a lost soul searching for the light.

Even before the thought had completely formed, she could feel his amusement at what she was thinking. He was not an angel of any kind, but he was there for her. Sarah’s sixth sense picked this up so strongly that it took her breath away. She tried to back away from the window, but her legs had a will of their own and she could not get them to move.

Then she was no longer seeing the garden. She was seeing his face, staring at her - angry, but yet he seemed to be pleading with her. She was lying on a bed, wrapped in his arms. He was pleading with her for something - something that she could not bring herself to do. The vision was more like a memory that she just could not completely grasp. For a brief instant, she felt compelled to go to him - to touch him.

As soon as the thought entered her mind, she banished it - slamming the door on it as if the very idea was too terrifying to contemplate. The dark figure bowed to her and then disappeared into the darkness.

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