Eternal Reign Read online

  Also by Melody Johnson

  Sweet Last Drop

  The City Beneath

  Coming soon

  Day Reaper

  Eternal Reign

  A Night Blood Novel

  Melody Johnson

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Vampires Bite in the Big Apple—deleted, restored & rewritten notes from draft 3

  Three Days before the Leveling

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Two Days before the Leveling

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  One Day before the Leveling

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Ten Hours before the Leveling

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  The Leveling

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  One Night after the Leveling

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  THE CITY BENEATH - THIS TURF WAR NEVER SLEEPS . . .

  SWEET LAST DROP - TRUST NO ONE

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2017 by Melody Johnson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Lyrical Press and Lyrical Press logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: April 2017

  eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-425-6

  eISBN-10: 1-60183-425-X

  First Print Edition: April 2017

  ISBN: 978-1-6018-3425-6

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This installment in the Night Blood series is especially dear to my heart because I wrote it during a uniquely stressful and blissful time in my life—my engagement—and released it the same month as my wedding. In acknowledgment of the many people who made my engagement special and memorable, and who traveled across the country to celebrate our big day, this book is dedicated to . . .

  My mother, Nancy Johnson, who listened to me alternately lament and rejoice in wedding planning for hours every week throughout my one year and four month engagement, and who helped me find the absolutely perfect wedding dress.

  My father, Leonard Johnson, who has always supported my dreams, even when doing so meant me being far from family—from going away to college to the big move to Georgia. My dreams for a fairytale wedding were no exception.

  My parents-in-law, Theresa and Dick Bradley, for welcoming me into their family and making me feel like I was a Bradley long before I ever took their name.

  My best friends—Stacy Flick, Meredith Bause, Caroline Dempsey, Erin Jones, Carli Feldman, and Chrissy VanScoten—who stood by my side. We live states away from one another, but no matter how far away we are physically, your love and memories of our crazy antics remain close to my heart.

  My family and friends, who didn’t let the distance stop them from joining me in celebration of my big day. Having you here to witness our vows and join together as one family meant more to me than you’ll ever know.

  My husband, Derek Bradley, who carried my engagement ring for six months and across five states to plan the perfect proposal. Like any romance novel, our adventure has had its ups and downs, but as much as we’ve already experienced on this journey together, our story is really just beginning.

  And I can’t wait to experience what happens next.

  Vampires Bite in the Big Apple—deleted, restored & rewritten notes from draft 3

  Cassidy DiRocco, Reporter, Sun Accord

  A reliable witness is as valuable and elusive as the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Without anyone to quote what “really happened,” I may as well be writing fiction—what sane person would believe that vampires exist on my word alone?—but multiple people often tell various and conflicting versions of the same event even without vampire intervention, and not intentionally. Memory is subjective, and perception can be biased. Even the most reliable witness needs corroboration.

  Advances in forensic science, unlike eyewitness testimony, are dead-on accurate. DNA evidence isn’t subjective. Trace evidence can’t be prejudiced. Ballistic evidence isn’t biased. Forensics separate reality from memory, so despite what witnesses think they saw—or what they want others to believe they saw—science uncovers the truth.

  For the first time in my life, I was the main witness. I was writing my story—possibly the most important, life-altering, jaw-dropping story of my entire career—and all I needed was corroboration. Without proof, without undeniable, scientific evidence to validate everything I’d seen and experienced, no one would ever believe me, so I waited, forcing myself to practice patience over the instinct to snatch up the proverbial bullhorn and shout my discovery to the world. I thought I had time to gather my evidence, build my corroboration, and protect my loved ones while I carefully crafted the article that would not only change my life but the lives of everyone in New York City—hell, the lives of everyone on earth.

  I was so worried about the people I’d put at risk by exposing the truth that I never considered the weight of their deaths from my unwritten words . . .

  Three Days before the Leveling

  Night bloods cannot prepare for or against the transformation. Once we are transformed, life as we know it is altered in every way imaginable. On one hand, we can no longer tolerate sunlight, food, and silver, but on the other hand, we receive heightened speed, senses, cognitive functions, and strength. Unimaginable strength and perfect health. I don’t know why we fight the transformation—no matter how devastating the changes to our former way of life and thinking, the pros far outweigh the cons—except for the simple, unforgivable, unacceptable notion that we must change.

  —DOMINIC LYSANDER, on becoming a vampire

  Chapter 1

  Dominic looked pretentious and posh, as usual, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside my apartment. Even gazing at him through the fish-eye lens of my door’s peephole—from the top of his immaculately cut and styled black hair to the bottom of his shiny Cole Haan wing-tipped dress shoes—he was a hopeful-mother’s dream, a shrewd-woman’s nightmare, and the reason I no longer bothered trying to sleep at night. Knowing the truth beneath the pretty wrapping—that he was the Master vampire of New York City—didn’t stop my heart from jumping and dropping in confused anticipation and adrenaline. After I’d nearly lost him last week, I’d come to the implausible, unwelcome conclusion that I actually preferred my life with him in it, but since I’d completely lost the protecti
on and mental strength of my night blood, his unexpected presence also twisted my gut with pure, unadulterated fear.

  I hadn’t seen Dominic in five nights, not since he’d entranced his name from my mind and confirmed our worst suspicion: I no longer had night blood.

  Without night blood, I didn’t have the potential to transform into a vampire, I couldn’t reflect Dominic’s commands if he attempted to entrance me, and I no longer had any of the qualities that Dominic held in such high esteem, that he’d planned to leverage during the Leveling; the one night every seven years that he lost his strength and abilities as Master to his potential successor, allowing a new Master to rise in his stead. Without those qualities, I couldn’t help him survive the coming battle to keep control of his coven. I was nothing but another human.

  I was nothing but food.

  Dominic knocked a second time, this series of staccato raps on the door more insistent than the first.

  “Who’s at the door?” Meredith asked. Her eyebrows rose and disappeared behind her bangs.

  Of course, on the one night Dominic finally decided to confront me, I had company. I should be grateful; he was knocking on the door rather than inviting himself in through one of the third-story, living room windows. That would have been difficult to explain to Meredith. Longtime best friend and wing woman at the Sun Accord she was, but night blood she wasn’t.

  “I’m hoping if I wait long enough, he’ll give up and go away.”

  “He?” Meredith asked. A mischievous smile curved her lips.

  “It’s probably best to answer the door of your own will,” Nathan murmured.

  I stared at my brother, surprised that he’d uttered a full, intelligible sentence beyond “We’re out of milk” or something equally inane. Inane seemed all he was capable of lately.

  “He’ll make it worse for you otherwise,” he added.

  I ignored Meredith and narrowed my eyes on Nathan. “How do you know who’s at the door?”

  Nathan dropped his gaze to the cereal bowl in front of him and continued spooning scraps of shredded wheat and milk into his mouth without further comment.

  Maybe he’d actually keep the food down this time. Then we could work on gradually introducing warm meals and protein back into his diet.

  I worried the doorknob with my thumb. Nathan might have been monosyllabic and near bulimic since returning to the city, but he was right. If I didn’t open the door of my own will, Dominic would probably force me to grant him entrance into my new apartment. A tenuous spring of hope coiled in my gut. Maybe, just maybe, my efforts to create a fallout shelter here in the city had been a success; maybe I didn’t need to worry about entry, forced or otherwise.

  I might have put my newly fortified apartment to the test, but with Meredith sitting at my kitchen table, a slice of sushi roll halfway to her mouth, the risk of exposing her to the danger standing on my doorstep wasn’t worth the pleasure of denying Dominic entrance.

  I opened the door.

  Dominic smiled, deliberately flashing his sharp, elongated fangs. “Good evening, Cassidy.”

  His voice purred in a deep timbre that plucked at the taut cords in my stomach. I squelched the feelings, but after weeks of denial, I could finally admit that they existed.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered.

  He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “No ‘Hello?’ No ‘What a pleasant surprise?’” Dominic tsked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Where are your manners?”

  “What a surprise,” I muttered, deliberately omitting “pleasant.” “You should have called before coming, Dominic.”

  He inhaled sharply. The fragile hope that softened his expression shamed me.

  “Don’t,” I warned, keeping my voice low in an effort to prevent Meredith from overhearing. “I didn’t remember your name on my own. Nathan reminded me. It still feels like a void, like Nathan telling me your name four days ago was the first I’d learned it.”

  His face fell. “That’s unfortunate.”

  I sighed. “Are you only here to antagonize me, or was there an actual purpose to this visit?”

  “Antagonizing you would be purpose enough, but yes, I have a greater purpose than even that,” Dominic said, magnanimously. “Must we converse in the hallway? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of seeing your new apartment. Won’t you invite me in?”

  I shook my head. “Now’s not a good time. I’m busy tonight.”

  “You haven’t seen me in five nights. What could you possibly be doing at this late hour?” His expression hardened with a sudden realization. “Or is the proper question, who could you possibly be doing?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “After everything that he’s done, how could you allow Ian Walker to—”

  “Cass, who’s at the door?” Meredith poked her head between us, widening the cracked door. She panned over Dominic, from the perfection of his hair to the shine of his shoes, and turned a lascivious smile on me. “Won’t you introduce us?”

  “Yes, Cassidy, won’t you introduce us?” Dominic mocked, his expression losing its edge. He looked amused.

  “No,” I said to Meredith. I turned to Dominic and cocked my head. “What were you saying about Walker?”

  “Never mind about him. I’m much more interested in her,” Dominic said, inclining his head toward Meredith.

  I narrowed my gaze on him. “Unfortunately for Meredith, she’s already made your acquaintance.”

  Meredith shook her head. “I don’t remember making his acquaintance.”

  “He has that effect on people,” I said smartly. “Even me.”

  A growl rattled from his chest.

  I rolled my eyes. “You know my sarcasm better than that. Knock it off.”

  “It’s not your sarcasm that angers me. It’s the reminder that you were taken away from me.”

  I was never yours to begin with, I thought, but I knew better than to further antagonize him. I bit my tongue and said instead, “I’m right here.”

  “You know what I’m referring to,” he said.

  I sighed. I did, but I’d been dreading this conversation all week. “You should consider yourself lucky that I even—” I sneezed.

  “Gesundheit.”

  “Thank you,” I managed before sneezing three more times in rapid succession. “I—”

  Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Are you ill?”

  “I’m fine.” I dismissed his concern with a wave of my hand. “If you want to come back tomorrow, we—”

  “A sneeze often indicates that one is ill or is about to become ill,” he interrupted.

  I rolled my eyes. “Once upon a time, yes, that was the case. People sneezed one day, and the next, they were on their deathbed. But with the advance of modern medicine and vaccinations, a sneeze is oftentimes just a sneeze.”

  Even as I finished my sentence, I sneezed again. Somehow, sneezing made my point less credible.

  Dominic shook his head. “There are people—for many years now we’ve referred to them as physicians—who study your symptoms, diagnose your illnesses, and treat them with medication. I believe modern medicine refers to these medications as antibiotics, and the sooner you receive them, the better.”

  Meredith laughed. “I like him.” She offered Dominic a California roll from the plastic container. “Sushi?”

  Dominic patted his stomach. “Unfortunately, I’ve just eaten. Otherwise, I’d surely be ravenous for anything you offered me.”

  “Just meet me upstairs on the rooftop in two minutes,” I snapped, flabbergasted, and shut the door in his face.

  No sooner had I shut the door than I sneezed again. And again and again in rapid succession.

  I could hear Dominic’s fading laughter even through the closed door.

  “Bless you,” Meredith mumbled around a mouthful of sushi. She swallowed before saying, “I don’t suppose you might be developing allergies.” Her eyes glinted with amusement when she glanced away from the door
to grin at me.

  “No,” I sighed, “but we may want to eat out of separate containers from now on. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “I don’t mind coming down with whatever you’re catching,” she said. Her tone sounded innocent, but her grin was absolutely wicked.

  Nathan, upending the final drops from his cereal bowl, choked on his milk.

  Her gaze suddenly turned thoughtful. “But seriously, of all the men in this city, you could do worse. He seems like an old soul.”

  I locked the front door. “You have no idea.”

  “Then why give him the cold shoulder?” Meredith asked. “The least you could do is invite him in and give me a proper introduction to the man who drops in unexpectedly on your doorstep at nine o’clock at night.”

  And therein lay the very problem with being best friends with a non–night blood: all the damn unanswerable questions.

  Meredith’s eyes widened, her expression salacious, and I knew without having to hear the words about to come out of her mouth that she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Or is he just a booty call?” she asked, wagging her eyebrows hopefully.

  “You know me better than that.” I laughed.

  She sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately, but one day you will officially get over your rat-bastard ex, and when that day comes, I want to hear every detail.”

  A door slammed shut, and I realized Nathan had escaped to the bathroom. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for Meredith’s teasing— and honestly, neither was I if it involved dredging up conversation about Adam—but then I heard the gagging and retching noises coming from behind the closed door. Five days, and he hadn’t been able to keep down anything but water. I couldn’t think of anything more bland and stomach-settling than chicken broth and cereal, but if I didn’t think of something soon, I’d have saved my brother from being Damned only to lose him to starvation.