From Fear to Eternity Read online

  Praise for the Immortality Bites Mystery Series

  Bled & Breakfast

  “An engaging, well-plotted mystery. As always, Rowen’s prose is a delight. . . . I predict a bright future for the Immortality Bites Mystery series, and I look forward to more in the same vein (no pun intended) from this author.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “Sarah is brash, headstrong, and in love with her husband. . . . An exciting and unexpected climax will please mystery fans.”

  —Gumshoe

  “So involving, it’s impossible to put down. Though there are serious issues involved, [Rowen] uses humor to make every character and situation a delight. The action starts right away and never stops in this hauntingly awesome story.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  Blood Bath & Beyond

  “Rowen jumps from paranormal romance to paranormal mystery without skipping a beat. . . . Here’s hoping Sarah will have many more adventures in her new series.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Her writing is sharp, witty, and does not disappoint. The ending will delight both old and new fans, and leave you thirsting for the next installment.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “An engaging paranormal mystery.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “Readers will believe in vampires and slayers. . . . Filled with romance and high-stakes suspense, fans will appreciate the return of Sarah Dearly and Thierry de Bennicoeur in an exciting, dark whodunit.”

  —Gumshoe

  Praise for the Novels of Michelle Rowen

  “I’ve been bitten and smitten by Michelle Rowen.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “What a charming, hilarious book! Frankly, I’m insanely jealous I didn’t write it.”

  —New York Times bestselling author MaryJanice Davidson

  “Rowen’s foray into a new dark, gritty world is a brilliant success . . . [and] an adrenaline rush!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Larissa Ione

  “Michelle Rowen never disappoints! I love her work!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter

  “Should leave readers breathless.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Michelle Rowen’s books never fail to thrill.”

  —Bitten by Books

  “Sassy and exhilarating . . . epic and thrilling.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “I have never read a Michelle Rowen book that I did not adore.”

  —Enchanted by Books

  Also by Michelle Rowen

  Immortality Bites Mysteries

  BLOOD BATH & BEYOND

  BLED & BREAKFAST

  Berkley Sensation Titles

  THE DEMON IN ME

  SOMETHING WICKED

  THAT OLD BLACK MAGIC

  NIGHTSHADE

  BLOODLUST

  Anthologies

  PRIMAL

  (with Lora Leigh, Jory Strong, and Ava Gray)

  OBSIDIAN

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  First Printing, July 2014

  Copyright © Michelle Rouillard, 2014

  Excerpt from Blood Bath & Beyond © Michelle Rouillard, 2012

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  ISBN 978-0-451-46613-6

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Contents

  Praise

  Also by Michelle Rowen

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Excerpt from Blood Bath & Beyond

  For my Mother,

  who loves mysteries

  (even the ones with fangs and wackiness).

  I love you!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Sarah Dearly was the heroine of my very first published novel, and now she’s the heroine of my latest. We’ve spent a decade together, both of us—author and character—growing and changing. (For the better, I’d like to think!) It’s been a wonderful experience to write seven books that have starred Sarah, including three super-fun paranormal mysteries that have followed Sarah and Thierry after their initial “happily ever after.” I had a gut feeling my sarcastic little fledgling vampire would embrace the challenge of solving mysteries. And she certainly has!

  My deepest gratitude goes to my readers who have followed Sarah’s adventures over the years and have remained enthusiastic to read more. Fangs very much to each and every one of you! You’re fangtastic! I sincerely hope you enjoy From Fear to Eternity!

  Chapter 1

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, a mysterious invitation arrived in my husband’s e-mail in-box from an anonymous sender.

  To Thierry de Bennicoeur,

  I have something you’ve wanted for more than three centuries.

  Bid enough at my auction and it can finally be yours.

  —An old friend

  The invitation had a date—today; a time—nine o’clock; and a location—Beverly Hills, California.

  And here we were.

  With uneasiness, I eyed the massive mansion at the end of the long, winding driveway as our taxi drove off into the darkness.

  “I don’t feel good about this. We shouldn’t have come here.” My comment earned me the edge of a smile from Thierry. “What? Why is that funny?”

  “It’s only that you’re suddenly the cautious one.”

  “I’m always cautious.”

  This earned a full-on look from him. “Always?”

  “Look ‘cautious’ up in a dictionary and you’ll see my picture. Also look up ‘tentative’ and ‘wary.’ It’s a full photo spread. More of a collage, really.”

>   “I think I must have left my real wife back in Hawaii. Who are you and what have you done with the delightfully reckless Sarah Dearly?”

  When he got sarcastic, I knew I was in trouble. That was my specialty, not his.

  “Sarah Dearly’s been body-snatched by a much more paranoid alien. What is this place, Thierry? Who invited you? And, most importantly, when can we leave?”

  “As soon as I get some answers.”

  But that wasn’t nearly soon enough for me.

  Until yesterday, I’d experienced the most amazing three weeks of my entire life in Maui on our honeymoon, which included beautiful beaches, shady cabanas (vampires don’t burn up in the sun, but we will easily acquire nasty sunburns), all the fruity cocktails I could drink (I couldn’t deal with solid food anymore, but alcoholic beverages were still a-okay), a luxurious private house overlooking the ocean, an overabundance of fabulous shops to explore, and spending one-on-one time with my gorgeous, if enigmatic, husband. I hadn’t wanted it ever to end.

  But, as the saying goes about all good things . . .

  I honestly didn’t think he would have been tempted to leave either if it hadn’t been for that tantalizing personal message.

  I have something you’ve wanted for more than three centuries.

  Bid enough at my auction and it can finally be yours.

  “You really think it’s the amulet?” I whispered as we stood in front of the mansion. It wasn’t the first time I’d said this to him since last night.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  He’d said I didn’t have to come with him—that he would return as soon as he could. I hated flying. Being five miles up in the air, trapped inside a metal coffin of death was not fun times for me.

  But I’d insisted. And here we were, all in pursuit of something that most believed had been destroyed centuries ago.

  Back then, Thierry had grown bored with his already lengthy immortal life and had begun collecting expensive, magical, and sometimes deadly objects to pass the time. Enter the amulet. It allegedly contained a djinn—aka a genie. A djinn is a kind of demon that will grant the wishes of its master. And its master would be anyone who possessed the amulet.

  I dug my nails into the sleeve of his black suit jacket as we approached the large red front door at the top of seven marble steps. Thierry wore a tailored Hugo Boss suit—as per his usual wardrobe. Tonight I’d chosen a red dress, which was cut low on the top and above the knee on the bottom, but it also had pockets—a perfect combo of style and comfort. The best of both worlds.

  The full moon sat high in the night sky, the air even warmer than it had been in Hawaii.

  “Why do you still want something like this?” I asked as I eyed the door with trepidation.

  “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “That you’re so motivated by the possibility of getting your hands on something potentially dangerous and destructive? Maybe a little.”

  “Please try to give me the benefit of the doubt, Sarah. There is more to this evening than a shiny prize.”

  “If you say so.” There wasn’t time for prying, but if there was more to this evening, he’d neglected to fill me in on any other sordid details.

  Knowing Thierry’s tendency for secret keeping, I wasn’t all that surprised. He didn’t even do it on purpose; it had just become ingrained in him over time. At well over six hundred years old, he was the very definition of that old dog you just couldn’t teach too many new tricks to—not that many old dogs would ever look as good as Thierry did. But I digress.

  He had his secrets. Most of them I didn’t need to know, so it didn’t bother me that he kept them close to his chest. Well, it didn’t bother me too much.

  I hooked my arm through his as we entered the front doors and walked into the foyer of a house that looked like a cross between something out of the movie Spartacus and the Playboy Mansion. Expansive black marble floors. Thick Roman columns. A massive crystal chandelier hanging above our heads. On our right, twisting upward to the second floor, a winding staircase with gold railings that looked like something out of a big-budget movie.

  I took it all in. “Wow. Welcome to Lifestyles of the Rich and Snotty.”

  “Yes, welcome,” a handsome, dark-haired, tuxedoed man echoed. He made me jump since he seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

  “Are you the host of this evening?” Thierry asked.

  “No. I am Thomas, the butler. And you are?”

  “Thierry de Bennicoeur. And this is my wife, Sarah.”

  Thomas nodded with approval, as if he had the guest list memorized. “Welcome. Your host will be joining you shortly, and the auction will begin soon after that. Please join the others in the parlor and enjoy some hors d’oeuvres and champagne until then.”

  Thierry’s cool, appraising gaze swept the foyer. “And who might our host be?”

  “Your questions will be answered in due time, sir. The parlor is just ahead through those doors.” The butler gestured to our left with a white-gloved hand.

  He moved away without another word.

  “Mysterious host,” I said. “Ominous mansion. Creepy butler who looks more like a male model than any butler I’ve ever seen before. An invitation with dubious intentions. But it is nice to know there’s free champagne to look forward to.”

  “I knew you’d find the bright side to all of this.”

  There had to be a bright side, right? If so, then why was I so nervous about being here? “Promise me you’re not going to do anything crazy tonight.”

  Thierry gave me a pointed look. “I don’t do crazy, Sarah.”

  “Debatable. But okay.”

  If the foyer looked like Hugh Hefner visits Rome, the parlor was much more Pride and Prejudice. I swear, upon entering the room, I felt as if we’d stepped back in time.

  There were at least twenty guests milling about and chatting with one another. As a pretty blond server in a chic black-and-white dress walked by, I snatched a flute of champagne off her tray and took a deep sip.

  “Sir?” the server said to Thierry. “Would you like one as well?”

  “I’d prefer a cranberry juice.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll be back in just a moment.” She moved toward a door at the back of the room.

  Thierry’s gaze cut across the crowd, and his expression darkened. “I recognize several of the invited guests.”

  “You do?” At first glance, everyone was a stranger to me. But when you had been around as long as Thierry, your acquaintance list got a bit long in the fang. “Like who?”

  His attention was fixed on a man on the other side of the room, thirtyish in appearance, who had black hair pulled back in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, dark brown eyes, and deeply tanned skin. His suit was black, like Thierry’s, but the shirt beneath was light blue. Very expensive, though—the guy dripped money. If there was one talent I had, it was picking out designer threads at a distance.

  “That is Atticus Kincade. He’s the current head elder of the Ring.”

  A breath caught in my chest. “The head elder? I thought elders were all created equal.”

  “No. The others take direction from Atticus. Currently, he’s the one with the power to make the ultimate decisions.”

  Which meant he was Thierry’s boss—the leader of the vampire council known as the Ring. Thierry recently took a job with them as a consultant, a traveling investigator who looked into vampiric problems of all shapes and sizes as they arose; problems the council deemed dangerous or unsavory when it came to protecting the rest of the world from the secret that vampires existed and we very rarely sparkled.

  I knew there was no love lost between Thierry and the vampire council. He hadn’t exactly accepted this job because he relished the chance to sign fifty years of his life away—a standard employment contract of theirs—l
iterally in blood.

  They’d applied duress to get him to sign. He hadn’t told me outright what they’d used as leverage to force a master vampire to agree to something he initially didn’t want to do. But I knew. And he knew I knew.

  For now, that was enough.

  “They must have been right,” Thierry said under his breath.

  “Right about what?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

  “Thierry . . . what’s going on?”

  His jaw tightened and he finally tore his gaze from Atticus to meet mine. “Remember what I said about the benefit of the doubt?”

  “No questions?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How about just one more? You’re not surprised to see him here, are you?”

  “No, I’m not surprised at all.”

  I took another sip of my champagne. “Benefit of the doubt invoked. But know this is a limited time offer. Got it?”

  He nodded once. “Understood.”

  When it came right down to Thierry and his secrets, the thing was, I trusted him. And if it was something I needed to know, I knew he’d tell me.

  But still. When he didn’t disclose everything to me immediately, it was extremely unnerving. Especially since I knew that the elders were very unpleasant people who liked using intimidation and threats to get what they wanted. Another faction of the council were enforcers—the on-call assassins who the elders would use to take care of any pesky problem. Permanently. Judge, jury, executioners. It was a one-stop shop.

  These were definitely not vampires I wanted to find myself on the bad side of. And one of them—apparently the most powerful one—was here tonight in the flesh.

  Benefit of the doubt. Fine. I would try my best to be patient.

  Another person who caught my eye was standing near Atticus, who was currently talking to a half dozen other guests. “Is that . . . No, it couldn’t be. Wait. . . . Is that Tasha Evans?”

  Thierry followed the direction of my gaze. “It is.”

  “Tasha Evans here?”

  Color me starstruck. Tasha Evans was a stunningly gorgeous redheaded movie star infamous for her many tattoos, her two Academy Awards, and her long list of relationships with some of the hottest lead actors in Hollywood. Back when I wanted to be an actress, I aspired to be just like her.