Vermilion Justice Read online

  Synopsis

  Vampire Riah Preston has made peace with her immortality and uses it, along with the others of the Spiritus Group, to fight evil. She is comfortable with her lengthy past staying right where it is—until the cousin of her friend and ally, Ivy Hernandez, goes missing. An impromptu trip to Romania takes her back to a land she swore she'd never step foot on again, and when the universe further conspires to send her back in time over five hundred years, everything she's fought so hard for is in jeopardy: her friends, her life, her love. One man holds the key, but can she and the others survive their encounter with him? Or will the very real Vlad Dracula finally spell the end for Riah?

  Vermilion Justice

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  Vermilion Justice

  © 2014 By Sheri Lewis Wohl. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-110-9

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: June 2014

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

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design by Sheri([email protected])

  By the Author

  Crimson Vengeance

  Burgundy Betrayal

  Scarlet Revenge

  Vermilion Justice

  Acknowledgments

  To Radclyffe, you took a chance on me and invited me to be a part of the incredible BSB family. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  To Shelley Thrasher, you are the best editor in the world, and working with you is a true joy. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  To the entire BSB family, thank you for your help, your advice, and most of all, your friendship.

  ex sanguine Draculae

  You will come to know the truth,

  And the truth will set you free

  John 8:32

  New Jerusalem Bible

  Prologue

  Wallachia, Romania

  1476

  If God would grant her one wish at this moment, she would wish the man she served dead.

  Nicoletta bowed deeply, keeping her eyes on the floor as she backed out of the chamber. The fire roared, sending heat flowing into every corner of the room. The food was rich and plentiful. He lolled back against the bountiful pillows, a goblet of wine in his hand. He smiled, though the sight did not reassure her. Instead it sent ice into her entire being.

  The servants had washed the blood from his body and brought clean clothing, covering him from head to toe in soft, vibrant fabrics fit for those of royal birth. Still, warmed water and clean cloth could not wash away the stench of death. She could barely keep herself from retching at his newly washed feet. She dare not do such a thing. Not in this chamber. Anyone with even the slightest bit of sense knew better than to bring attention upon themselves.

  Moving about the chamber, she tried to keep calm as she helped him into the princely garments and combed his thick black hair. All the while, she hoped her silence would be his wish. Dear God, let him be pleased.

  Outside, the torches, hundreds of them, burned so brightly it was as if daylight lingered, unwilling to extinguish what spread out for all to see. Except nothing was bright in the flickering firelight. The corpses hung on tall stakes that surrounded the city, a grisly reminder of the price extracted from those who dared to cross the Prince. No one could escape his influence. It hung before their eyes. It was in the air they breathed. It seeped into the very water they drank.

  It was in the light that reflected off the solid gold cup perched on the fountain ledge at the center of the square. All drank from it. None dared to steal it, even in the face of their family’s starvation. Not a single person had even tried.

  So many of her people hailed him as their savior—the prince who’d returned from imprisonment by their sworn enemy to save them. They all said he came to free the land from the invasion of the Ottoman Turks. So many believed it was the will of God. She did not. Nicoletta did not feel free.

  Here, far from the horror outside, firelight reflected like stars in the black sky in his eyes. Some might find it alluring. It did not comfort Nicoletta. She could only meet his eyes for a moment before she turned her gaze away. More than the chill it sent into her heart, it was not wise to look the Prince in the eye.

  The powerful son of the dragon and hailed as their rightful leader, he was strong, virile, handsome. But something was not right with this man, and it seemed that Nicoletta was the only one who knew it. She felt it in his touch and saw it in his face.

  Despite the macabre ring of corpses, their mouths still open in silent screams, outside, the people of the city celebrated. He had returned and set them free once more. No matter that twice before his rule had been snatched away. Each time he returned to reclaim his throne. His name rose in the night sky on the glorified shouts of her friends and neighbors. She wanted to scream at them to open their eyes, to see the truth. It would do no good. They would not believe, for they could not see that which she did.

  Servants of the castle bustled about, readying for the celebration of the nobles. Nicoletta wanted to join in and to embrace the feeling of hope. Instead, she stood trembling in the shadows, her eyes downcast and staring at the bowl filled with bloody water, wondering when it would be her blood washed from Vlad Dracula’s hands.

  Chapter One

  Bucharest, Romania

  Present Day

  Outside the car window, it was as if she’d been carried back in time, and how she wished that were true. Lura Tappe had boarded a connecting flight in Seattle many hours earlier and stepped off the plane into a country light years away from her home in Washington State. She actually had a passable grasp of the language, courtesy of Sofia, her Romanian nanny oh so many years ago, but even so, Lura couldn’t shake the feeling she was as out of place here as a tuxedo at a baseball game. Perhaps exhaustion left her disoriented, or maybe the whole reason she’d come here in the first place made her feel so strange.

  It didn’t really matter one way or the other. She was here and she’d do what she had to. She owed him that much. At the moment, though, she really wanted to get to her hotel and grab a little rest, impossible as that was probably going to be. Tomorrow promised to be another long and even more stressful day. No rest for the wicked…literally.

  By this time tomorrow, she and Alexandru Vizulea would be on the drive to Tirgoviste. She’d meet him for a breakfast she doubted she’d be able to stomach and then leave the city behind. Time didn’t allow for jet lag, sightseeing, or any other tourist luxury. Then again, she wasn’t exactly a tourist and didn’t plan to spend one minute more here than necessary. Though the country was rich in culture and history, she couldn’t put her heart into appreciating what Romania had to offer right now. Instead, she simply wanted to do what she came here to do and then run home and hide in her work.

  On the phone last week Alexandru’s voice had been gentle and his words kind. Bearing bad news was never fair, especially to an innocent, but he’d delivered his news with incredible grace and compassion. She’d looked forwar
d to putting a face to the voice, even if their meeting was the result of tragedy. She’d wanted to thank him in person for all he’d done.

  When Alexandru had telephoned and offered to accompany her to Tirgoviste, his generosity had surprised her. He’d already done more than he should have had to. Across the thousands of miles between them, Lura had tried to make him understand. She could make the journey alone; he didn’t need to take any more of his time on her account. He’d insisted.

  If she was truthful, she’d admit her argument against his accompanying her didn’t last long and wasn’t very strenuous. Deep down she was more rattled than she’d ever admit out loud. Her attention span was right on par with a severe case of ADHD, and frankly, his offer to go with was her was a huge comfort. It didn’t matter that they’d never met. What did matter is that she wouldn’t be alone. She had the rest of her life for that.

  So far, everything about this trip was tinged with the surreal, like it was happening to someone else, a 3-D movie that had snapped her up only to toss her aside. Even as she stood here now, nothing seemed real. With all her heart, she wanted to believe it was a terrible mistake. Any minute the phone would ring to tell her they’d made a horrible error and offer her a heartfelt apology.

  The phone didn’t ring. No mistake. No heartfelt apology. This was as real as it got. Tomorrow, she’d take a journey with a stranger in a strange land, and she would pay for her sins with the passage of each mile.

  At least she wouldn’t have to make the journey alone. Hearing his deep voice and thickly accented English, she somehow believed she’d be safe with Alexandru, that nothing more could hurt her. She needed that right now, desperately. Alexandru was her safe harbor in the eye of a really bad storm. Poor guy, he had no idea about the train wreck he was picking up in the morning. An honorable woman wouldn’t burden a stranger. Her accepting his help said a lot about her.

  The drive from the airport to the tiny hotel on the outskirts of the city had been interesting, even as exhausted as she was. Seeing the Sulu Palace, the Parliament Palace, and even the Old Court Citadel brought the flavor of Romania into clear view. The old and the new, the taste of Ceausescu’s grandiose vision and the rich legacy of a distinctive culture were apparent in those buildings. So much damage had been wreaked upon this ancient country filled with a history rich in tradition and legends. Yet even the wars and strife, the years of struggle and economic dishevelment, couldn’t dampen its natural beauty. Under different circumstances, it would be almost magical.

  Sofia’s stories of her homeland came to life as the driver maneuvered the small dark sedan through the narrow, winding streets. Vic’s mother, Sofia always spoke warmly of Romania, her wonderfully accented voice wistful when she recounted stories of her own youth. As a child Lura had imagined this place as Sofia’s words, often spoken in her native tongue, lulled her to sleep night after night. But her stories didn’t do justice to the old-world charm that passed outside the smudged window of the cab. She wanted to stop, reach out, and touch this place that had brought Sofia into her life.

  Her already aching heart pounded even harder as she tried not to fall apart. Suddenly all she could think about was Vic, his tall athletic frame, his slightly too-long black hair, his lively brown eyes. Through Sofia they’d met as children, and when reunited years later while attending college, their shared childhood brought them close. She’d been adrift in those days, unsure of her future, feeling as though something was missing and not knowing what it was. Her understanding parents never pushed her, yet she was never quite able to free herself of that sense of being out of sync. Vic was her anchor during that time, and somewhere along the line she interpreted that as love. When he’d asked her to marry him, it seemed the natural thing to do. What did she know about love?

  Medical-school years and even into the early days of their respective practices, Vic always spoke with great wistfulness of the desire to visit his mother’s birthplace. In her mind, she could picture him at long last realizing his dream and riding in a cab like this, filled with excitement at the start of his great adventure. Knowing Vic, he’d hit the ground at a dead run. How wrong for her to have to be here now under these unthinkable circumstances.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks as she pressed her face against the window and watched the city flash by. To let him come to this place alone had been dishonest on her part. They should have come together. Walked down these streets, hand in hand, finding the places that Sofia had made vivid in their minds. Together they should have walked the pathways of Vic’s mother and ancestors, soaking in the culture and the richness of the old country. There was so much they should have done together as husband and wife, as partners in life, if only she’d tried a little harder.

  Now it was too late for anything. Too late for the walks, too late for sharing, and far too late for apologies. The amends she owed him would never come. Lura had made many mistakes in her life, but nothing topped this one.

  *

  “Fucking A!”

  Riah Preston rounded the corner and walked into the study just in time to see her beautiful partner Adriana James jumping up and down while clapping her hands like a child who’d just discovered some new and wondrous thing. She whirled and caught sight of Riah, a huge smile lighting up her face.

  “Did you see it, Riah? Did you see what I did? It was fucking awesome.”

  Riah felt like a heel. Frankly, she hadn’t seen a thing except a gorgeous black woman hopping around in the study. Caught up in her own thoughts, she’d been oblivious to anyone else.

  She wanted to tell Adriana she’d seen whatever had her so jacked up. She didn’t. If she’d learned one thing in her five hundred years, it was that the truth usually worked best. Saved a lot of problems in the long run, and she had every intention of making a long run with Adriana. “No, babe, I didn’t see a thing.”

  A crestfallen look crossed her face. “You really didn’t?”

  Riah smiled and touched her cheek. “All I saw when I walked in was you bouncing around like you were about twelve.”

  “God, don’t I wish.” Her grin was devilish before she grimaced. “Oh wait, hell no. Twelve sucked. Boobs just starting to sprout, boys eyeing me, and my dad acting like a maximum-security prison warden. No, I’ll stay right where I’m at, thank you. Wrinkles and all.”

  That made her laugh. Like a single wrinkle dared make an appearance on Adriana’s beautiful face. Even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. Riah loved her, and how old Adriana was or wasn’t could never change how she felt.

  “So what did I miss?” Riah dropped to an oxblood leather sofa and pulled her feet up. In the large home of the Spiritus Group, this was undoubtedly the most comfortable room. They all seemed to gravitate here.

  Located in Spokane, Washington, the monster estate was originally the whim of a local wealthy eccentric. It fell into disarray before it was finished and ultimately abandoned, once the owner lost interest. His bad luck. Her good luck. Riah bought it years later for a song and it became their home base.

  Though the Spiritus Group had started informally with Riah and Adriana, friend and fellow vampire, Ivy Hernandez, and her other half, former vampire hunter, Colin Jamison, the family had grown. The estate was also home to yet another vampire and former vampire hunter turned lay minister. After a rather bloody battle in Washington D.C., Tory Grey and Naomi Rand had accepted the Spiritus Group’s invitation to join them in the never-ending battle against evil. The large estate boasted plenty of room for the now-three vampires and three humans who lived here full time.

  On occasion, they were also joined by witch Kara Lynch, who they’d saved from a rogue werewolf intent on destroying her so she would fail to lift the curse from his family, and her wife, shape-shifter Camille “Cam” Black Wolf. All in all it was a pretty awesome group of folks, so far removed from the solitary existence Riah had embraced for centuries that it still boggled her mind. In a good way, that is. She wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

&nbs
p; Even given all that, the biggest surprise of all had been the appearance of Adriana in her world. Riah had completely given up on any hope for love. Believed it had died five hundred years ago on that gloomy and stormy night when her life forever changed. Then Adriana made her see the truth and the beauty in opening her heart. She’d never been happier.

  Adriana’s face lit up once again. “Okay, so remember when I went home to New Haven and met my aunt from Tigeran and we stopped a wizard from opening a doorway between this world and Tigeran and…”

  Riah’s smile grew as she listened. Adriana was usually quite articulate, but tonight her words tumbled out in an enthusiastic rush. Riah remembered all too well Adriana’s trip to her childhood home.

  At the time, she’d been the only one of the Spiritus Group who didn’t possess any special skills or powers. Ivy and Riah were vampires who brought all sorts of preternatural skills to the table. Colin was a vampire hunter without equal. Trained since a teenager, he’d been a threat to all who called the night home. At least until he’d met Ivy and Riah. Now, he was a threat to any and all, human or preternatural, who chose evil to guide their existence.

  After Adriana came home from New Haven, the game had changed. It turned out that her black beauty wasn’t even of this world but from a parallel dimension. Brought here by her magical parents to keep her safe, she was the sorceress destined to save both this world and Tigeran.

  She did, of course, and rather than return to the land of her birth after she’d made sure they were all free from harm, she came back to Riah. Since her return, she was even more focused than ever, and that was saying a lot. Her main mission appeared to include discovering the full width and breadth of her powers. It seemed that every day she encountered something new and exciting in her ever-expanding range of magic. The delight it gave Adriana warmed Riah’s heart.