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Overview
A powerful woman faces terrible danger, and the only one who can help her is a dangerous vampire in this romance by a New York Times–bestselling author.
Two hundred years have passed since Anna Randal gave herself to Conde Cezar in a night of relentless passion. Since then, Anna has become filled with unearthly power she can’t begin to comprehend. And the sexy, charming vampire responsible has eluded all of her efforts to track him down, until now . . .
Cezar’s blissful encounter with Anna cost him two centuries of penance. But one thing hasn’t changed—his body’s response to her is as urgent as ever. Now, commanded by the Oracles to keep watch over Anna, Cezar finds himself torn between his need to protect her—and to possess her . . .
Someone wants Anna dead. And as an ancient enemy prepares to wage a terrifying battle, Anna must decide whether to succumb to a dark, burning desire—and accept a destiny that could change the world forever . . .
Praise for Alexandra Ivy's Embrace The Darkness
“Ivy creates such vivid and complex characters, their emotional struggles feel real even though their exploits are supernatural. A true gift to the genre!” —Romantic Times
“Delivers plenty of atmosphere and hot-blooded seduction.” —Publishers Weekly
"A darkly erotic adventure with a vampire hero who can bite me anytime! Readers will adore Cezar's deliciously romantic craving for feisty, idealistic Anna Randal.” —New York Times–bestselling author Angela Knight
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781420109436 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Kensington |
| Publication date: | 03/03/2009 |
| Series: | Guardians of Eternity Series , #4 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 384 |
| Sales rank: | 180,555 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
The reception room of the hotel on Michigan Avenue was a blaze of color. In the light of the chandelier Chicago's movers and shakers strutted about like peacocks, occasionally glancing toward the massive fountain in the center of the room where a handful of Hollywood B-list stars were posing for photographs with the guests, for an obscene fee that supposedly went to some charity or another.
The similarity to another evening was not lost on Anna as she once again hovered in a dark corner watching Conde Cezar move arrogantly through the room.
Of course, that other evening had been nearly two hundred years ago. And while she hadn't physically aged a day (which she couldn't deny saved a butt-load on plastic surgery and gym memberships), she wasn't that shy, spineless maiden who had to beg for a few crumbs from her aunt's table. That girl had died the night Conde Cezar had taken her hand and hauled her into a dark bedchamber.
And good riddance to her.
Her life might be all kinds of weird, but Anna had discovered she could take care of herself. In fact, she did a damn fine job of it. She would never go back to being that timid girl who wore shabby muslin gowns (not to mention the corset-from-hell).
That didn't, however, mean she had forgotten that fateful night.
Or Conde Cezar.
He had some explaining to do. Explaining on an epic scale.
Which was the only reason she had traveled to Chicago from her current home in Los Angeles.
Absently sipping the champagne that had been forced into her hand by one of the bare-chested waiters, Anna studied the man who had haunted her dreams.
When she had read in the paper that the Conde would be traveling from Spain to attend this charity event she had known that there was always the possibility the man would be a relative of the Conde she had known in London. The aristocracy was obsessed with sticking their offspring with their own name. As if it weren't enough they had to share DNA.
One glance was enough to guarantee it was no relative.
Mother Nature was too fickle to make such an exact duplicate of those lean, golden features, the dark, smoldering eyes, the to-die-for body ... And that hair.
As black as sin, it fell in a smooth river to his shoulders. Tonight he had pulled back the top layer in a gold clasp, leaving the bottom to brush the expensive fabric of his tux.
If there was a woman in the room who wasn't imagining running her fingers through that glossy mane, then Anna would eat her silver-beaded bag. Conde Cezar had only to step into a room for the estrogen to charge into hyperdrive.
A fact that was earning him more than a few I-wish-looks-could-kill glares from the Hollywood pretty boys by the fountain.
Anna muttered a curse beneath her breath. She was allowing herself to be distracted.
Okay, the man looked like some conquering conquistador. And those dark eyes held a sultry heat that could melt steel at a hundred paces. But she had already paid the price for being blinded by the luscious dark beauty.
It wasn't happening again.
Busily convincing herself that the tingles in the pit of her stomach were nothing more than expensive champagne bubbles, Anna stiffened as the unmistakable scent of apples filled the air.
Before she ever turned she knew who it would be. The only question was ... why?
"Well, well. If it isn't Anna the Good Samaritan," Sybil Taylor drawled, her sweet smile edged with spite. "And at one of those charity events you claim are nothing more than an opportunity for the A-listers to preen for the paparazzi. I knew that holier-than-thou attitude was nothing more than a sham."
Anna didn't gag, but it was a near thing.
Despite the fact that both women lived in L.A. and they were both lawyers, they couldn't have been more opposite.
Sybil was a tall, curvaceous brunette with pale skin and large brown eyes. Anna on the other hand barely skimmed the five-foot mark and had brown hair and hazel eyes. Sybil was a corporate lawyer who possessed the morals of a ... well, actually she didn't possess the morals of anything. She had no morals. Anna, on the other hand, worked at a free law clinic that battled corporate greed on a daily basis.
"Obviously I should have studied the guest list a bit more carefully," Anna retorted, caught off guard, but not entirely surprised by the sight of the woman. Sybil Taylor possessed a talent for rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, wherever they might be.
"Oh, I would say that you studied the guest list as closely as every other woman in the room." Sybil deliberately glanced across the room to where the Conde Cezar toyed with a heavy gold signet ring on his little finger. "Who is he?"
For a heartbeat, Anna battled the urge to slap that pale, perfect face. Almost as if she resented the woman's interest in the Conde.
Stupid, Anna.
Stupid and dangerous.
"Conde Cezar," she muttered.
Sybil licked her lips that were too full to be real. Of course, there wasn't much about Sybil Taylor that was real.
"Euro trash or the real deal?" the woman demanded.
Anna shrugged. "As far as I know, the title is real enough."
"He is ... edible." Sybil ran her hands down the little black dress that made a valiant effort to cover her considerable curves. "Married?"
"I haven't a clue."
"Hmmmm. Gucci tux, Rolex watch, Italian leather shoes." She tapped a manicured nail against too-perfect teeth. "Gay?"
Anna had to remind her heart to beat. "Most definitely not."
"Ah ... I smell a history between the two of you. Do tell."
Against her will Anna's gaze strayed toward the tall, dark, thorn in her side.
"You couldn't begin to imagine the history we share, Sybil."
"Maybe not, but I can imagine all that dark, yummy goodness handcuffed to my bed while I have my way with him."
"Handcuffs?" Anna swallowed a nervous laugh, instinctively tightening her grip on her bag. "I always wondered how you managed to keep a man in your bed."
The dark eyes narrowed. "There hasn't been a man born who isn't desperate to have a taste of this body."
"Desperate for a taste of that overused, silicone-implanted, Botox-injected body? A man could buy an inflatable doll with less plastic than you."
"Why you ..." The woman gave a hiss. An honest-to-God hiss. "Stay out of my way, Anna Randal, or you will be nothing more than an oily spot on the bottom of my Pradas."
Anna knew if she were a better person she would warn Sybil that Conde Cezar was something other than a wealthy, gorgeous aristocrat. That he was powerful and dangerous and something that wasn't even human.
Thankfully, even after two centuries, she was still capable of being as petty as the next woman. A smile touched her lips as she watched Sybil sashay across the room.
Cezar had felt her presence long before he'd entered the reception room. He'd known the moment she had landed at O'Hare. The awareness of her tingled and shimmered within every inch of him.
It would have been annoying as hell if it didn't feel so damn good.
Growling low in his throat at the sensations that were directly connected to Miss Anna Randal, Cezar turned his head to glare at the approaching brunette. Not surprisingly the woman turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.
Tonight his attention was focused entirely on the woman standing in the corner. The way the light played over the satin honey of her hair, the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes, the silver gown that displayed way too much of the slender body.
Besides, he didn't like fairies.
There was a faint movement from behind him and Cezar turned to find a tall, raven-haired vampire appearing from the shadows. A neat trick considering he was a six-foot-five Aztec warrior who was draped in a cloak and leather boots. Being the Anasso (the leader of all vampires) did have its benefits.
"Styx." Cezar gave a dip of his head, not at all surprised to find that the vampire had followed him to the hotel.
Since Cezar had arrived in Chicago along with the Commission, Styx had been hovering about him like a mother hen. It was obvious the ancient leader didn't like one of his vampires being in the control of the Oracles. He liked it even less that Cezar had refused to confess the sins that had landed him near two centuries of penance at the hands of the Commission.
"Tell me again why I am not at home in the arms of my beautiful mate?" Styx groused, completely disregarding the fact that Cezar hadn't invited him along.
"It was your decision to call for the Oracles to travel to Chicago," he reminded the older demon.
"Yes, to make a ruling upon Salvatore's intrusion into Viper's territory, not to mention kidnapping my bride. A ruling that has been postponed indefinitely. I did not realize that they intended to take command of my lair and go into hibernation once they arrived." The fierce features hardened. Styx was still brooding on the Oracles' insistence that he leave his dark and damp caves so they could use them for their own secretive purposes. His mate, Darcy, however, seemed resigned to the large, sweeping mansion they had moved into on the edge of Chicago. "And I most certainly did not realize they would be treating one of my brothers as their minion."
"You do realize that while you may be lord and master of all vampires, the Oracles answer to no one?"
Styx muttered something beneath his breath. Something about Oracles and the pits of hell.
"You have never told me precisely how you ended up in their clutches."
"It's not a story I share with anyone."
"Not even the vampire who once rescued you from a nest of harpies?"
Cezar gave a short laugh. "I never requested to be rescued, my lord. Indeed, I was quite happy to remain in their evil clutches. At least as long as mating season lasted."
Styx rolled his eyes. "We are straying from the point."
"And what is the point?"
"Tell me why we are here." Styx glanced around the glittering throng with a hint of distaste. "As far as I can determine the guests are no more than simple humans with a few lesser demons and fey among the rabble."
"Yes." Cesar considered the guests with a narrowed gaze. "A surprising number of fey, wouldn't you say?"
"They always tend to gather when there's the scent of money in the air."
"Perhaps."
Without warning, Cezar felt a hand land on his shoulder, bringing his attention back to the increasingly frustrated vampire at his side. Obviously Styx was coming to the end of his patience with Cezar's evasions.
"Cezar, I have dared the wrath of the Oracles before. I will have you strung from the rafters unless you tell me why you are here wading through this miserable collection of lust and greed."
Cezar grimaced. For the moment Styx was merely irritated. The moment he became truly mad all sorts of bad things would happen.
The last thing he needed was a rampaging vampire scaring off his prey.
"I am charged with keeping an eye upon a potential Commission member," he grudgingly confessed.
"Potential ..." Styx stiffened. "By the gods, a new Oracle has been discovered?"
The elder vampire's shock was understandable. Less than a dozen Oracles had been discovered in the past ten millenniums. They were the rarest, most priceless creatures to walk the earth.
"She was revealed in the prophecies nearly two hundred years ago, but the information has been kept secret among the Commission."
"Why?"
"She is very young and has yet to come into her powers. It was decided by the Commission that they would wait to approach her until she had matured and accepted her abilities."
"Ah, that I understand. A young lady coming into her powers is a painful business at times." Styx rubbed his side as if he was recalling a recent wound. "A wise man learns to be on guard at all times."
Cezar gave a lift of his brows. "I thought Darcy had been bred not to shift?"
"Shifting is only a small measure of a werewolf's powers."
"Only the Anasso would choose a werewolf as his mate."
The fierce features softened. "Actually it was not so much a choice as fate. As you will eventually discover."
"Not so long as I am in the rule of the Commission," Cezar retorted, his cold tone warning that he wouldn't be pressed.
Styx eyed him a long moment before giving a small nod. "So if this potential Commission member is not yet prepared to become an Oracle, why are you here?"
Instinctively Cezar glanced back at Anna. Unnecessary, of course. He was aware of her every movement, her every breath, her every heartbeat.
"Over the past few years there have been a number of spells that we believe were aimed in her direction."
"What sort of spells?"
"The magic was fey, but the Oracles were unable to determine more than that."
"Strange. Fey creatures rarely concern themselves with demon politics. What is their interest?"
"Who can say? For now the Commission is only concerned with keeping the woman from harm." Cezar gave a faint shrug. "When you requested their presence in Chicago they charged me with the task of luring her here so I can offer protection."
Styx scowled, making one human waiter faint and another bolt toward the nearest exit. "Fine, the girl is special. Why should you be the one forced to protect her?"
A shudder swept through Cezar. One he was careful to hide from the heightened senses of his companion.
"You doubt my abilities, my lord?"
"Don't be an ass, Cezar. There is no one who has seen you in a fight that would doubt your abilities." With the ease of two friends who had known each other for centuries, Styx glanced at the perfect line of Cezar's tux jacket. They both knew that beneath the elegance were half a dozen daggers. "I have seen you slice your way through a pack of Ipar demons without losing a step. But there are those on the Commission who possess powers that none would dare to oppose."
"Mine is not to question why, mine is but to do and die ..."
"You will not be dying." Styx sliced through Cezar's mocking words.
Cezar shrugged. "Not even the Anasso can make such a claim."
"Actually I just did."
"You always were too noble for your own good, Styx."
"True."
Awareness feathered over Cezar's skin. Anna was headed toward a side door of the reception room.
"Go home, amigo. Be with your beautiful werewolf."
"A tempting offer, but I will not leave you here alone."
"I appreciate your concern, Styx." Cezar sent his master a warning glance. "But my duty now is to the Commission and they have given me orders I cannot ignore."
A cold anger burned in Styx's dark eyes before he gave a grudging nod.
"You will contact me if you have need?" "Of course."
Anna didn't have to look at Conde Cezar to know that he was aware of her every movement. He might be speaking to the gorgeous man who looked remarkably like an Aztec chief, but her entire body shivered with the sense of his unwavering attention.
It was time to put her plan into motion.
Her hastily thrown together, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, stupidest-plan-ever plan.
Anna swallowed a hysterical laugh.
So, it wasn't the best plan. It was more a click-your-heels-twice-and-pray-things-didn't-go-to-hell sort of deal, but it was all that she had for the moment. And the alternative was allowing Conde Cezar to disappear for another two centuries, leaving her plagued with questions.
She couldn't stand it.
Nearly reaching the alcove that led to a bank of elevators, Anna was halted by an arm suddenly encircling her waist and hauling her back against a steely male body.
"You haven't changed a bit, querida. Still as beautiful as the night I first caught sight of you." His fingers trailed a path of seduction along the bare line of her shoulder. "Although there is a great deal more on display."
An explosion of sensations rocked through Anna's body at his touch. Sensations that she hadn't felt in a long, long time.
"You obviously haven't changed either, Conde. You still don't know how to keep your hands to yourself."
"Life is barely worth living when I'm keeping my hands to myself." The cool skin of his cheek brushed hers as he whispered in her ear. "Trust me, I know."
Anna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."
The long, slender fingers briefly tightened on her waist before he slowly turned her to meet his dark, disturbing gaze.
"It's been a long time, Anna Randal."
"One hundred and ninety-five years." Her hand absently lifted to rub the skin that still tingled from his touch.
"Not that I'm counting."
The full, sensuous lips twitched. "No, of course not."
Her chin tilted. Jackass. "Where have you been?"
"Did you miss me?"
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Still a little liar," he taunted. With a deliberate motion his gaze skimmed over her stiff body, lingering on the silver gauze draped over the swell of her breasts. "Would it make it easier if I confess that I've missed you? Even after one hundred and ninety-five years, I remember the precise scent of your skin, the feel of your slender body, the taste of your ..."
"Blood?" she hissed, refusing to acknowledge the heat that stirred low in her stomach.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Darkness Revealed"
by .
Copyright © 2009 Debbie Raleigh.
Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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