Brotherhood of Blood 01 - One and Only.pdf - Ebook english - link999

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be

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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

One and Only

ISBN: 978-1-60504-264-0

Edited by Bethany Morgan

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief

quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Publication: 2003

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2008

www.samhainpublishing.com

One and Only

Bianca D’Arc

Dedication

To my family. For believing in my dream even when I didn’t.

Chapter One

What was that noise? It was subtle, yet it grated on the ancient one’s sensitive hearing. A metallic twang-slap-grind that set his

teeth on edge and made him wonder just how mechanically sound this old shuttle bus really was.

Once again, he marveled at how a being as powerful as he still needed to conform to the expectations of mortals—especially in

the brave new world of technology. It was becoming harder and harder to reinvent himself now that his image was captured routinely

in a myriad of different official ways. The next time he had to “die” and come back, he’d have to alter his appearance drastically.

Mortal memories might be short, but photographs, it seemed, lived forever.

Of course, that was supposing he’d bother to come back this time.

Atticus Maxwell had been alive longer than he believed any being rightly should. The centuries had become endless. The

business of living was tedious, with no one to share it with. Atticus had always been a loner, but had held a secret hope that someday

he’d find at least one person in all the world—and all the centuries—to share his life.

It was the dearest goal of many of his kind. After a few centuries, most bloodletters settled down and began the search for the

one person who could complete them. It was a serious business, and a quest he didn’t take lightly, but after all these years, he’d

almost given up hope.

Atticus had searched longer than most, but he was still alone.

Lissa hadn’t wanted to board the shuttle bus, but there was no other feasible way to get to the mountain retreat where the

business conference was being held. The place was on a rocky hillside that bordered wine country. The views were said to be

magnificent and the five-star cuisine was not to be missed. Or so the travel agent had promised.

She was at a crossroads in her career, having just lost her job as an account manager due to company downsizing. This

professional conference was supposed to help her network for new contacts in her field and also had the advantage of hosting a small

job fair of sorts. She had two interviews lined up for tomorrow, in fact, but she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of foreboding she’d

had when boarding the hotel’s private shuttle bus.

It happened that way sometimes. She had a very small psychic gift that had helped her avoid trouble in the past, but tonight she

was getting mixed signals from her sixth sense. She didn’t want to board the bus, but she didn’t know if that apprehensive knot in the

bottom of her stomach was due to the shuttle bus, the passengers or the conference that awaited her.

Then he’d appeared.

A man. Out of the night. He’d stolen her breath, and all her senses—both mystical and mundane—had gone on alert. He was

dangerous, she could tell just by the aura of power around him, but he was also the most handsome and enticing being she had ever

encountered. Her sixth sense pulled her toward him. It made her yearn for him in a way she had never yearned before. Something

about him was arresting and fearsome at the same time, yet he drew her as a moth to a flame and she was powerless to resist.

So she boarded the bus, even encroaching on his personal space to the point where he stumbled over her foot, crushing her toes

for a short moment while her cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry.” Alarmed blue eyes met her gaze for a brief moment as shock passed over his features. “Please excuse me,” he

said.

His voice rolled over her, rich and deep. It rumbled through her very being, awakening every synapse in that brief moment that

was over all too soon.

She smiled at him and mumbled her acknowledgment, but he’d already turned to claim his seat farther back in the crowded

shuttle bus.

And that was the extent of their contact. So little to build such a lasting impression. Lissa knew she would never forget the man

as long as she lived, though she’d probably never even know his name.

Atticus pondered the small woman he’d unwittingly touched. She was a drab little thing in her buttoned up navy blue suit, but

there was something very appealing about her. He had sought the mountain retreat that overlooked his own land in the valley far

below for a bit of peace, but his thoughts were in more turmoil now than they had been in many decades.

Who was that woman? And why did she claim so much of his attention?

He really should be concentrating more on the strange sounds coming from the van’s undercarriage, but he couldn’t bring himself

to look away from her. He could just see the top of her head and lustrous brown hair over the top of the seat a few rows in front of

him.

Lightning flashed close by, distracting him, and the bus swerved on the slick mountain road. The driver pumped the brakes and

the grinding sound elevated to a screeching metallic twang ending with a sickening snap. Quick as that lightning flash, the bus slid

sideways on the wet pavement, overturned, then tumbled over the edge of the ribbon of road into the void.

The shuttle bus rolled violently down the steep ravine. Atticus was thrown from side-to-side, top-to-bottom in a violent thrashing

of metal against soft tissue that had no chance at all against such devastation.

The shuttle bus came to rest, after long moments of sickening freefall, at the bottom of a cliff, deep in wet foliage. The only

sound was the creaking of metal as it rocked to a stop and the steady drip of soft rain on the leaves of the forest.

He was going to die.

Finally, after over a thousand years of walking the earth, his life was going to end. Atticus almost welcomed it.

But the girl would die, too, and that bothered him. He thought it odd. By now he probably shouldn ’t have a conscience left, but

the thought of her death—when he could, in all likelihood, save her—plagued him.

His thoughts seemed very far away while lying in a pool of his own blood, with some kind of support beam making a hole in his

chest. Atticus felt his immortal life slipping away, but the faint, struggling gasps for breath issuing from the small woman called him

back. She was alive. For the moment.

Everyone else on the shuttle bus was dead. Atticus knew they were gone when their heartbeats ceased echoing in his ears. He

no longer sensed the motion of their blood swishing through their veins.

They were all gone. All except for the quiet girl who’d smiled so kindly at him after he’d accidentally stepped on her foot while

boarding.

Atticus never touched mortals, except to feed. Such acute hearing and senses made it painful to get within touching distance,

unless they were under his thrall. Yet, somehow, this quiet, shy woman had invaded his personal space earlier that night. She’d crept

up on him without his knowledge. Or perhaps it was Atticus who had invaded her space. He couldn’t be sure. But whichever way it

happened, it had shocked him.

He hadn’t been so surprised in years. Centuries even.

Yet this nondescript woman, with the soft-looking, mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, somehow managed to invade not only his

space, but his thoughts as well. Incredible.

And now she would die, alone in the night, on the side of a deserted mountain road, along with the rest of them.

Unless he fought against the darkness. And won.

Regardless of what he was, with such injuries as he’d already sustained, it would not be an easy battle.

When Lissa Adams woke, darkness engulfed her. Straining to see in the absence of light, her breath accelerated as she

panicked. Her apprehension only grew when she realized another person lay beside her. A soft dripping sound echoed through what

she supposed was some kind of underground chamber or cave. That’s what it sounded like—and smelled like. She felt rough rock and

scattered grains of sandy dirt beneath her palms.

She knew the mountains were dotted with such places, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Or why she was so

groggy.

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