A Call of Vampires (A Shade of Vampire #51)

“Why didn’t you reach out to confirm your landing?”

“We got carried away with introductions and discussions here, my apologies,” Hansa replied. “We’re about to start talking to the families of abductees to see what we can find out.”

“Okay, glad to hear you’re all good there. Any hostilities?”

“None whatsoever. They’re all nice and peaceful. Whatever they’re going through, it seems to be genuine. We’ll need to investigate, for sure.”

“Thank you, Hansa,” I replied. “Please keep us posted. Let’s catch up again in six hours.”

“Sure thing!”

And then it was quiet again.

There was a hint of uneasiness lingering in the back of my head, but I brushed it off and ran a hand through my hair, breathing a sigh of relief.

“They’re okay, then?” Field asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “They just got busy fast with meeting the Maras. Everything seems normal, from what Hansa told me. They’ll start interviewing families of the victims and report back.”

“That’s good.” Tejus smiled. “At least we know they made it safely.”

Indeed, a heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. Hansa’s voice had been a reassuring one. For our first attempt at a swamp witches’ interplanetary travel spell, we’d done well. I glanced at Viola, a thought blooming in my mind.

“Do you think you can look into the Archives again, and see what references you can find about that crashed Druid delegation on Neraka?” I asked. “I know the girls checked several records last night, but they didn’t manage to go through them all. There must be some mention of them there.”

“Sure,” Viola replied.

“Thank you.”

I had a feeling that the Druids who had been on that delegation might have recorded additional data on the Exiled Maras, and it was the one loose end I wasn’t comfortable with. Not while our people, our friends and family, were out there on Neraka.



What’s next? Some news!



Dear Shaddict,

Thank you for reading A Call of Vampires.

I have two new releases to share with you!

See the details for the next Shade book, ASOV 52: A Valley of Darkness, right after the following announcement:

On November 26th, 2017, I will be releasing a brand new vampire romance series called Hotbloods!

It’s a fresh and exciting spin on the vamp lore you love, with characters I think you’ll fall hard for. :)

Below I have shared with you an exclusive early SNEAK PEEK of the first three chapters of Hotbloods, so keep turning the pages!:





HOTBLOODS



Vampires have never been so hot... ;)





Chapter 1


“Remind me which genius suggested we put this off till midday?” My friend Angie’s muffled voice drifted through the stalks of corn to my right.

“I believe the same one who didn’t pack enough water,” my second companion, Lauren—also obscured by giant shafts of corn—replied, from five feet to my left. Her naturally dry tone sounded more sarcastic than usual, probably because, thanks to Angie, we’d run out of water half an hour ago.

I smirked, taking a few seconds’ pause from picking corn to wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrist. Despite wearing a shirt and shorts made of cotton so light it was almost see-through and a wide straw sombrero, and religiously sticking to the shade of the corn stalks, this Texan sun was killing me. Still, I loved this kind of work, using my hands— it was cathartic—so I wasn’t going to complain.

“Also the same one who suggested we spend our vacation on this delightful farm,” Lauren added with a grunt. I pictured her tall, lanky form hunched over as she tackled a far too unripe cob, while her narrow, purple, librarian-style glasses glided slowly but surely down her nose. She was not so much a fan of manual work.

“Oh, come on, Lauree.” I couldn’t resist teasing her, despite my resolution to save my voice for after we’d returned to the farmhouse and I’d downed a liter of water. “We know you love it here.”

“‘Course she does,” Angie proclaimed, and I could hear her broad grin through her voice. “What’s not to love?”

“Guess you have a point.” Amid her heavy breathing, Lauren managed to force a note of thoughtfulness into her voice. “I mean, aside from the fact that we’re off the grid, with no electricity or phone signal for literally miles—who wouldn’t appreciate a welcome package of a heap of moldy towels, a sprinkle of roach droppings on their pillowcase, or… a snake in their toilet pot?”

Angie and I burst out laughing. From the tremor in Lauren’s voice, I could tell she still hadn’t gotten over last night’s surprise. Trust Lauren to get dibs on the snake.

“After I had sat down, I might add.”

“It was a grass snake,” Angie retorted, “and a pretty cute one at that.”

“Cute my ass,” Lauren grumbled.

A span of amused silence fell between us as we returned to filling our sacks. This was the second of three assignments we had to complete today; the first had been running bed linens through a manual laundry machine, draining them through a ringer, and then hanging them up to dry outside, and the third would be picking fresh herbs from the greenhouse. Mr. and Mrs. Churnley, friends of Angie’s grandparents and the owners and sole full-time residents of Elmcreek Farm, were to assign us three such jobs every day, in return for free board and lodging.

We had arrived only yesterday evening, having flown from New York to Austin, but I was already feeling a sense of calm about the place. Being without electricity, internet, or a working phone was a culture shock we were all still getting used to, but the lack of external distractions was exactly why we had chosen to come here.

This summer was the last chance Angie, Lauren, and I would have to spend quality time together for possibly a very long time, because after the vacation ended, we’d all be heading off in vastly different directions—Angie even to a different country. I was enrolled to begin a mechanical engineering course in Michigan, and Lauren was to study pre-law at Stanford, while Angie would be jetting off to Paris for an apprenticeship at a prestigious sports-fashion brand (thus combining her two biggest passions). If things worked out for Angie there, we’d see very little of her indeed.