The Cornwall Coven, Book Three; Demonic Pandemonium
January 29th 2010
Erotic Paranormal Romance (Vampires)
Sex, blood and rock and roll
Pandora is a half-demon, alone in the world and good as abandoned, with a mother who barely tolerates her and a father who is unable to be with her nearly often enough for her tastes. She keeps to herself, and tries not to associate with others often, lest they discover her secret—until she meets Kevlar Cornwall. The two collide in ignorance of one another, but the sexual-attraction is indisputable and cannot be ignored, growing more profound with every passing moment. It blinds them to the lurking danger hiding just around the corner, out to end both their lives and everyone either of them have ever known or loved.
Excerpt Four (RATED: R for obscene language)
I walked across the room to collect my purse, and Kev followed me. Then a knock on my front door disturbed my preparations.
“Thank you Kev.” I stood on my tip-toes and kissed him, but the knock sounded again and forced Kev to pull back with an indignant chuckle.
“I’ll get it. You just get ready,” Kev promised, and left my bedroom to walk down the hall.
I picked up my MP3 player from my dresser. If Coren felt the need to contact me via the radio program I listened to, then fine. Right now, I wouldn’t discard or deny any tool, no matter how odd or slight they may be.
When push came to shove, the little things would be what saved your ass at the end of the day.
I really wanted to get this bastard. He begged for me to end his life.
I heard Kev murmur a thank you, and close the door. I entered the kitchen the same moment he did, opposite me. His eyes were turbulent when he stepped forward with a long white box wrapped in blue ribbon.
“Should I be jealous?’ Kev asked with uncertain amusement. Was he?
“I don’t know. Should you be?” I retorted, and he smiled. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Maybe Sam is trying to suck up,” I joked half-heartedly, an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Here’s the card.” Kev handed me the unopened envelope, not even attempting to read it.
I watched while he peeled off the golden seal of the florist and untied the intricate trimming. His nostrils flared slightly, but he kept his silence, staring down at the crepe-paper hiding the flowers from our view.
I cringed back, though I didn’t understand why. Whatever it was, neither of us caught on right away, but we both knew one thing. The scent of flowers were heavily mixed with blood, the sickly sweet combination making me want to hurl, and my demon half want to bathe in it.
“It’s too much to hope that they’re dyed, right?” Kev muttered.
“What about the smell?”
“Florist pricked herself on the thorns?” Kev sighed hopelessly.
“Then tell me one thing in regard to that theory,” I said emotionlessly. My heart didn’t clench, tears did not prick at my eyes. My mind remained clear and ready.
“And what would that be?” Kev said.
“How did the florist get a pint or two of my mother’s blood? Last time I checked, Lillian wasn’t into flower artistry.” Of course with Kev never having met my mother, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue what she smelled like.
Kev’s nostrils flared again and he fingered a rose in the middle of the stack, one the blood hadn’t completely coated. The white petals shone with a sick gleam beneath the red. On a closer look, I could see the splashes over the stems.
“Son of a bitch!” Kev leapt away from the previously unassuming cardboard box.
I stared from him, and then to the box in alarm. Save the blood, I saw nothing amiss.
“He put a spell in the blood.” Kev’s eyes flashed bright red, and then black. He crouched low to the ground like the flowers would float from their confines and beat him over the head.
“Kev?” When he didn’t respond, I had to swallow my broaching panic. “What was the spell?”
“He’s older than we thought…” Kev murmured to himself. He shook his head back and forth like something spoke to him. “No. Can’t take her.” He looked past me. “It’s not right…”
“Kevlar?” I stepped away, and he growled. His feral unblinking eyes met mine.
“No!” he shrieked with his muscles convulsing under his skin during some sort of schizophrenic episode. Was he going to shift? Did he have enough of my blood to have developed the secondary form? “He isn’t what we think.”
Another rippling snarl escaped his lips when he launched, his actions no longer his own.
Without thought, I knew up a sheet of protection around me, and Kev practically bounced off of it. My ears automatically tuned to a sound that didn’t fit. But I was caught up with the more menacing problem at hand, to know I had that one under control before I moved onto the next. Rage filled his dead eyes and smooth young face. I was the prey he needed to get to, but he wasn’t strong enough to battle my power.
My gaze sought the box of flowers, and pinpointed the noise. I had to move the barrier with me toward the counter, grabbing the paper-towel on the way to the table.
With the towel, I gripped one of the stems and lifted it up. I might be immune to most magic of this realm, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“What is…?” I stared at the contraption the greenery concealed, never considering people actually did things like this in real life—especially not someone with the powers of a god.
Then the final tick rang loud in my ears.
And the buried pipe bomb exploded in my face.