Night's Honor

Turn the page for a sneak peek at Thea Harrison’s next novel of the Elder Races MIDNIGHT’S KISS Coming soon from Berkley Sensation

“Come on, Melly, will you wake up already?” someone demanded. An impatient woman, with a familiar voice. “Hell’s bells, I didn’t realize I compelled you to go down that hard. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

Melly had been having the strangest dream.

The first part had been awesome. She dreamed she was skiing, whipping along the downhill slope so fast she could hear the wind whistle in her ears. Gods, she loved that rush.

Something snagged her left ski, and she lost all control. The world flipped as she tumbled head over heels. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Then with the sneaky suddenness that dreams could sometimes have, the scene shifted and she landed in a sprawl in her Malibu living room. Through the open archway that led to her bedroom, she saw Julian lying in her bed.

The tangled sheets had fallen around his hips. She knew from memory every muscled bulge and hollow of his broad, scarred chest. Her heart started to pound as she stared at him. It’d been so long since they’d been together, so very long.

Could it be possible for skin to feel hungry? Her skin ached for the sensation of his rough, callused fingers.

His white flecked dark hair tousled, he watched her with wolflike eyes. “Pick up your damn phone will you?” he snapped.

He was such a killjoy. Furiously, she threw her phone at him, and he blurred to catch it. As she watched, Julian crushed the phone in one hand.

“Okay,” the director said. (Who was directing this film? Squinting, she tried to look past the bright set lights.) “We need just one more thing before we call it a wrap. Come on, Melly—give us one of your awesome screams. Wake up and don’t hold back, just let ’er rip.”

Obligingly, she tried to open her mouth to belt out a good one, but she still had her skiing helmet on with the chin guard, and somebody had added a mouthpiece to it that was actually kind of making it hard to breathe. She struggled, trying to get her hands free so she could tear off the mouthpiece, but somebody had put her in a straitjacket . . .

That couldn’t be right. They finished the film with the straitjacket years ago.

What the hell?

Her eyes popped open.

Someone, a Vampyre male, was carrying her over his shoulder, fireman style. Her head bobbed upside down. She had pinned her long, curling hair into a loose chignon, and it had slipped sideways over one ear. Strong, bobbing beams of light illuminated a rough stony hallway.

Not a hallway. A tunnel.

She was gagged, and her wrists and ankles tied.

Panic struck. She erupted into wild struggles.

She almost managed to flip out of the strange male’s hold, but swearing, he hoisted her into a more secure position and wrapped his arms around her thighs.

Someone bent over her and smacked her over the ear so hard her head rang. “Behave.”

Craning her neck, she stared up at a beautiful, young-looking woman with auburn hair. A very familiar woman, and a very old Vampyre, one of the most Powerful in the Nightkind demesne. Justine.

The wrongness of the situation rocketed around Melly’s mind. She had gone skiing, and had just returned to her Malibu home to get ready for her next shoot, when Justine had shown up on her doorstep. After that—nothing.

While she couldn’t talk physically, she could telepathically. Justine, she said tensely. What the fuck are you doing?

Justine petted her head then removed the gag. “There, there,” said the Vampyre. “Everything will probably be okay.”

Everything will probably be okay?

“What are you talking about!” Her head ached, and she struggled to think past it.

There was no way Melly could have been prepared for this, none.

When Melly went out in public, she was usually attended by a guard or two, but her Malibu home was in a gated community with a good security system. Other actors and celebrities lived in the community, and normally, Melly felt perfectly safe there. Normally, she would never have imagined someone like Justine would kidnap her.

Justine had been on friendly terms with Melly’s mother, Tatiana, the Light Fae Queen, for a very long time, and she had made friendly overtures to Melly for years.

Justine straightened and said to the man, “Put her in this one.”

Melly looked around wildly as the man carried her into a cell, an honest to goodness, dungeon-y cell that had been hewn out of rock with metal bars and a door fitted across the opening.

The man dumped her unceremoniously on the floor with such force, her hair slipped half out of its knot. She felt a couple of hairpins slide down her neck and drop into her top.

Breathing heavily, Melly almost planted her foot in the Vampyre’s face. She could have done it. She was fast enough, angry enough, and she’d certainly had her own fair share of training. Tatiana had insisted both her daughters learn self-defense.

But while she might be able to kick the shit out of Vampyre Guy, she knew she was no match for Justine, who leaned against the open cell door, watching. And she still hoped to get somewhere by talking.

“Justine,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going on, or why you felt compelled to kidnap me, but if we go to my mom and we just talk it over, I’m sure we can figure out how to fix things.”

Justine smiled at her. “Look at you,” the Vampyre said. “Pretty and well-meaning, and stupid as a poodle. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Melly, but some things can’t get fixed by running to your mom for help.”

Melly angled out her jaw as both fury and worry deepened. Well first, Justine was just plain wrong, because her mom was the most formidable woman Melly had ever met.

But with Justine kidnapping Melly and refusing to talk to Tatiana, this was bad, really bad. She said between her teeth, “What did you do?”

“I took a gamble and it didn’t go so well. So, now I’m taking another gamble.” The Vampyre met Melly’s gaze. “We’re going to find out if Julian has any lingering feelings for you. I’m thinking he might, and if he does, how far will he go to see that you’re safe? Would he even trade himself for you?” As Justine smiled, a tip of her descended fangs showed between her red lips.

Melly’s stomach clenched. Justine had slipped some kind of leash, and if she felt she needed leverage against Julian, something terrible had happened in the Nightkind demesne. “You’re going to be sadly disappointed,” she said bitterly. “What Julian and I shared ended a long time ago.”

“We’ll see. Sometimes old feelings refuse to die.” Justine told Vampyre Guy, “Strip those pins out of her hair, and pat her down to make sure she doesn’t have anything in her pockets. When you’re done, untie her.”

Obediently Vampyre Guy yanked his hands through Melly’s long curls, pulling out hairpins. He was none too gentle about it, and tears sprang to her eyes at the pain in her scalp. When he was finished, he ran his hands down every inch of her body, untied her wrists and legs, straightened and stepped out of the cell.

Justine reached inside to set a jug of water and a package on the floor. “Here’s enough food and water for a day, along with a small LED flashlight. The batteries aren’t going to last you a full twenty-four hours, so I would use it sparingly, if I were you. Someone will bring you more food and water tomorrow, most likely. Hang tight—we’ll know soon enough what Julian will do.”

Most likely.

Most likely bring her more food and water.

Melly’s breath shook in her throat. Which meant Justine was fully prepared to cut ties and abandon her if things didn’t go her way.

Taking her lantern, Justine shut the door of the cell and locked it with a key. “’Bye, darling.”

Fuck you. Darling.

Melly didn’t have a very aggressive personality, but she was pretty sure she could murder Justine’s ass if she got half the chance.

The light faded gradually as Justine and Vampyre Guy left. Before it disappeared completely, she lunged for the packet Justine had left on the floor, located the flashlight and turned it on and off several times to test it.

It worked. The beam of light was small and thin, but it was infinitely better than the intense, complete darkness.

She forced herself to turn it off. Then, in the darkness, she wrapped her arms around herself, shaking.

After a while, stirring, she whispered, “Poodles are smart.”

Twisting, she groped down the back of her neck until her fingers connected with what she was searching for. Snagging it, she pulled out the hairpin that had slipped down her top earlier.

Poodles could also bite when someone least expected it.