Clayridge Chronicles (Book 2)
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Sometimes you need to take a walk on the dark side.
When Rowan Mallor, defense magic specialist, hears that a former lover has been murdered, he shrugs it off as a typical occurrence for mortals who choose to wander outside the safety of Clayridge’s formidable walls. Everything changes when a letter arrives from the dead woman’s attorney informing him of the teenage daughter he never knew he had—a daughter who’s been traded to the villainous vampire Nixon Castor.
The night Yvette ‘Evee’ Barrett catches Rowan breaking into the Collections Room at the Barrett Academy, it only confirms her judgment of his character—he’s a liar and a cheat and not to be trusted. Unfortunately, her father, Headmaster Barrett, believes Rowan when he promises to help find the students that have been mysteriously vanishing from the Academy. Even worse, her father hires him to become the new defensive magic teacher, which gave Rowan the chance to accomplish whatever he started the night she caught him breaking into the school.
With the two forced to work together, it’s a war of words and mistrust—Rowan will use any means necessary to steal the precious Book of Damned to save his daughter and the missing students, even if he has to seduce Evee to accomplish it. Meanwhile, Evee is determined to unearth Rowan’s secret and see him rot in jail. But to save not only the school and students but society as they know it, the pair must put aside their differences and do something neither desires—work as a team to save what’s most precious to them.
Excerpt:
In case there was more than one trespasser, Evee didn’t bother with the lights. Instead, she used moonlight to guide her. Pressing her hands against the stone wall, she crept down the stairs, careful not to make a sound.
When she came to the bottom, her heart was pounding, and a smile curved her lips.
As quietly as possible, she pulled open the stairwell door.
The foyer was lit but empty. The elevator doors were the only modern-looking feature in the otherwise ancient-looking room.
With the door to the Collections Room left wide open, it was clear that whoever was inside wasn’t expecting company.
Footsteps and the occasional softly uttered curse word let her know that whoever was in there was busy searching for something.
But what?
As far as she could tell, there was only one intruder.
Anticipating the need for speed and agility, she reached down and silently removed her high heels. Pulling the dagger from its sheath, she continued forward, inching past the open door.
The room itself was technically two floors, with a spiral staircase in the center of the space. It was below ground level, so all the light was artificial. Shadows loomed, especially where the room twisted to reveal partially-hidden alcoves.
Out of sight, she heard the intruder around the next corner.
Tightening her grip on the dagger, she tensed. She was about to spring into action when suddenly there was a pop, a whoosh, a muttered curse, and then a flurry of movement as the burglar set off one of the defensive measures.
She was surprised someone had gotten this far into the room before becoming ensnared. Sure, whoever it was had triggered the silent alarm, but if the item they were hunting for had been in the first quarter of the room, their crime may have been successful. Thank goodness that wasn’t the case.
Disappointment lanced through her. It seemed there wouldn’t be a fight this evening.
Keeping her dagger in her hand, she continued around the corner, eager to see who would dare try to rob the academy.
Dangling from the ceiling, caught half in a rope net, was a large, dark figure. A familiar-looking bent black hat lay on the floor. Part of his upper body was exposed, and his heavy cloak dragged along the ground as his trap swung.
Evee ran her tongue along the front of her teeth as irritation consumed her. She knew that figure. She’d heard those grunts and curse words before. And she definitely recognized that hat.
Sheathing her dagger, Evee balled her fists and simply watched him.
He kept trying to crunch upward and reach the rope that held him, but with one hand caught behind his back in the net and his magic worthless due to the net’s enchantments, there was little he could do.
“Fucking hell!”
Evee leaned against the wall. “Well, well, well, what have we here?”
His struggle stopped, and his shoulders sagged. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was already trying to figure out how to use his silver tongue to get himself out of this mess.
“Seems we caught a rat.”
Twisting, his face appeared with that fake, too-bright smile. “Evee! What a pleasant surprise.”
“Cut the crap, Rowan.” She pushed off the wall and stalked toward him, unsure of what to do with him.
His gaze roamed over her. “Don’t you look lovely this evening. Did you have a date, or were you at a party?”
Ignoring the fact that she was in an off-the-shoulder, floor-length gown with a dangerously high slit up the thigh, she glared at him. “Why are you here? What were you trying to steal?”
He recoiled. “Steal? How could you think such a thing?”
“Rowan, I swear, I–”
“I have a perfectly good reason for being here.”
“In a trap? In a forbidden room? In the middle of the night?”
He scoffed. “It’s hardly the middle of the night.”
“I want an answer, Rowan.”
He ignored her request, and said, “And I want to get down.” He tried again to reach for his feet. Giving up with a groan, he continued to dangle from the ceiling. “How about giving me a hand?”
“Rowan, I–” She stopped. Moving closer, she noticed a dark spot on his shirt. “Is that blood?”
Rowan looked toward his side but didn’t reply.
Realizing some of those grunts and groans hadn’t been from struggling but from pain, she reached out and stopped just shy of touching the wet stain on his abdomen.
“Our traps wouldn’t have done that.” She frowned and shifted her gaze to his. “What did this to you?”
This time, when he moved, he grabbed the back of her neck, causing her to stumble forward. He grunted when her palms collided with his body.
Pressing his lips against hers, he kissed her hard and fast before pulling her head away, his hand still tangled in the hair at her nape.
Gaze as hard as his kiss, he growled, “Get. Me. Down.”
