EXCLUSIVE! We have an excerpt from Kathryn’s Smith’s Night After Night, the final book in the Brotherhood of the Blood series. This one doesn’t come out until February 2009, so get a sneak peek now! I’ll be awarding an ARC of Night After Night to two commenters on any post dated December 17. Read on!

“Centuries ago, this magnificent chalice sealed my fate as a vampire, and now I am its protector. Many have hunted me for it, but only Vivian has accomplished the task. Strong, lovely, haunted . . . I am more attracted to her than I should be, yet her loyalty lies with a man determined to bring about my destruction. But I am not so easily locked in a cage, and now the captive has become the captor.

Though her stormy eyes tempt me, there is too much at stake—not merely my life, but the lives of my vampire Brotherhood. And I am not above using Vivian to achieve my goals, even if it means denying my own heart. The battle to end all battles is just beginning, and I must fight . . . if I could only let my desire be damned.”

Excerpt

Brownie was smiling like a baptized whore seeing the light of God. “Please let me know if you need anything at all, Miss Vivian.”

“I’d like some clothes,” came the quick reply. Temple choked back laughter. He admired her spirit, damn her pretty hide.

His friend didn’t even glance at him. “I believe your belongings are in the laundry. Anything else?”

“We’ll let you know,” Temple replied before Vivian could speak. Brownie was going to make Vivian suspicious with all this bowing and scraping. “Thank-you for breakfast.”

Vivian murmured her thanks as well, and Temple took Brownie by the arm, steering her toward the door so quickly she had to run to keep up.

“Try not to treat her like the second coming,” he growled as he practically shoved her out of the room.

Brownie wasn’t the least bit sorry. “You cannot expect me to treat her like any other person.”

He scowled. “You treat me like any other person.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You are.”

He bared his fangs, reminding her rather dramatically of just how wrong she was. His reward was seeing her press a hand against her throat as her heart pounded like a scared rabbit’s. Now he had frightened his only ally.

“Please, Brownie,” he said softly, taking her chilled hand in his. “I need you to show some restraint. At least for a little while. I don’t think Vivian knows what she is, and I don’t want to tell her until I know for certain the part she’s to play.”

Brownie sighed. “I understand. Please don’t hiss at me like that again.”

Temple squeezed her fingers. “I won’t.” He released her hand. “I need a favor. Can you send these telegrams for me?” He handed her the small stack of papers sitting on the table beside him. They were messages tovarious acquaintances around Europe – people he knew his friends would go to.

By now Chapel would have discovered his former hideaway in England. He had been taken before he could speak to the other vampire, but there was plenty of evidence left behind. Chapel had to know something bad had happened. He would alert the others. By now at least one of them had to have received the medallions he had sent.

They would come. They wouldn’t walk into whatever trap Villiers set for them in Italy. Together, the five of them would plan and launch their own attack against the Silver Palm. This was going to end. Temple tried not to think about what would happen to Vivian when that final battle came.

To her credit, the little woman didn’t even glance at the letters. “Of course. I need to send out some correspondence myself later on this afternoon.”

Temple thanked her, told her he would talk to her later, and closed the door. When he turned, it was to find Vivian watching him closely as she broke apart a flaky croissant and stuffed the chunks into her mouth. For a moment he was somewhat saddened, knowing this time alone with her would soon end.

“So,” she said, tearing off another piece of pastry. “Are you going to have something to eat?”

He thought of her thigh and how delicious it looked earlier. And then he flashed her a broad grin, full of fang. “Yes,” he replied, slipping the deadbolt into place. “I believe I will.”

copyright 2008, Kathryn Smith