Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

Nina Croft



To my sister, Anne, who introduced me to vampires.





Part One



Breaking all the Rules





Chapter One


Rule Number One: Never question the past.

Tara took a single step into the alleyway and stopped.

Up ahead, something shifted in the shadows and a waft of warm air carried the stench of dirty smoke and rotten eggs to her nostrils. A prickle of unease shivered across her skin.

No way was she ending up dead in a dark alley before she had a chance to break Rule Number One. Wrinkling her nose against the smell, she held her breath and backed out into the bright lights of the main street.

And straight into something solid and unexpected.

For a second, she thought she must have hit a brick wall. A brick wall that hadn’t been there thirty seconds earlier.

“Are you okay?”

A brick wall that talked.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned.

Her eyes were level with his chest and at first all she registered was his immense size. Taking a slow step back, she forced her gaze upward. In the artificial light, he was leached of color, with black hair pulled into a ponytail, and skin so pale it appeared white. She went still as silver eyes captured hers. For a second, she stared mesmerized, unable to drag her gaze away from the stranger.

“Are you lost?” He spoke again, breaking the spell.

“No. Yes. Maybe.” She waved the map clutched in her hand. “I was considering a short cut.”

A short cut to the railway station and a fast train away from here. For the last ten minutes, she’d been dithering. Should she go ahead, break Rule Number One, and perhaps come to a messy and premature end? Or should she run away and try to forget the stupid rules had ever existed?

“A short cut down a dark alley? Has no one ever told you it’s dangerous to wander down dark alleys alone?”

Was there some subtle threat beneath his words? Did he look vaguely menacing for a moment? Or was it merely her overactive imagination playing games with her? He was just a man—a tall, powerfully built man, but quite respectable in his sleek, dark business suit and red tie.

Still, a little voice in her head whispered to her to turn and walk away—though perhaps not down the dark alley.

But something held her back.

All her life she’d been afraid. Aunt Kathy had brought her up to fear just about everything, and she’d done a brilliant job. But Aunt Kathy was dead, and Tara refused to live like that anymore.

“Well?” he murmured and she realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Actually, yes. I’m quite aware of the dangers. But I have an important meeting and my mind was on other things.” Like running away.

He considered her for a moment. “Where is this important meeting? Perhaps I can help.”

“CR International. You know it?”

His lips curved into a slow smile and suddenly she realized how devastatingly attractive he was. “You mean the CR International building behind you?” A faint trace of amusement tinged his voice.

She pursed her lips but turned slowly. He wasn’t kidding. It stood directly opposite, on the other side of the street. An immense structure of steel and smoky glass with CR International in big gold letters over the door. How the hell had she missed that? “Oh…thank you.”

This was it. Either she’d discover the truth, or she’d be blasted by a bolt of divine retribution. Time to find out which.

She took a few steps but couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder. The man still stood, hands in his pockets, watching her, a strange almost hungry look in his eyes.

“Overactive imagination,” she muttered and headed across the street.

A young man sat behind the reception desk; handsome, with dark red hair like a fox and blue eyes that perfectly matched his shirt.

“I’m Tara Collins,” she said. “I have an appointment with Mr. Grant.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” He reached for the phone beside him, but it rang before he picked up, and he sent her an apologetic glance. “One moment.” As he listened, a startled expression flickered across his face. “Sure, Christian. No problem.”

He put the phone down. “Ms. Collins?”

Tara nodded.

“I’m afraid Mr. Grant can’t see you tonight.”

Tara sagged with relief and bit back a “halleluiah.” She’d done her best, but now she could legitimately put off breaking Rule Number One just a little while longer. Like forever maybe.

“Absolutely no problem,” she said. “Shall I make another appointment? Perhaps in a couple of weeks? A month? A year…?”

A year sounded good.

He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “No need. That was Mr. Roth—the owner of the company—he’ll see you instead. I’ll take you up myself as access to the thirteenth floor is restricted.”