A Touch of Crimson
Sylvia Day
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
GLOSSARY
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
Teaser chapter
Praise for A Touch of Crimson
“A Touch of Crimson will rock readers with a stunning new world, a hot-blooded hero, and a strong, kick-ass heroine. This is Sylvia Day at the top of her game!”
—Larissa Ione, New York Times bestselling author of Eternal Rider
“Angels and demons, vampires and lycans, all set against an inventive, intriguing story world that hooked me from the first page. Balancing action and romance, humor and hot sensuality, Sylvia Day’s storytelling dazzles. I can’t wait to read more about this league of sexy, dangerous guardian angels and the fascinating world they inhabit. A Touch of Crimson is a paranormal romance lover’s feast!”
—Lara Adrian, New York Times bestselling author of Taken by Midnight
“A Touch of Crimson explodes with passion and heat. A hot, sexy angel to die for and a gutsy heroine make for one exciting read.”
—Cheyenne McCray, New York Times bestselling author of Vampires Not Invited
“Sylvia Day spins a gorgeous adventure in A Touch of Crimson that combines gritty, exciting storytelling with soaring lyricism. Adrian is my favorite kind of hero—an alpha-male angel determined to win the heart of his heroine, Lindsay, while protecting her from his lethal enemy. Lindsay is a gutsy, likable woman with paranormal abilities of her own, as well as a dedication to protecting humanity against a race of demonic monsters.This is definitely a book for your keeper shelf.”
—Angela Knight, New York Times bestselling author of Master of Shadows
Praise for Sylvia Day Writing as S. J. Day
“Great characters and terrific storytelling in a hot-blooded adrenaline ride. A keep-you-up-all-night read.”
—Patricia Briggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Exhilarating adventure in an edgy world of angels and demons . . . will keep readers enthralled.”
—Publishers Weekly
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, October 2011
Copyright © Sylvia Day, 2011 All rights reserved
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ISBN : 978-1-101-54465-5
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This one is for my Marked series readers.
I hope you love it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My gratitude to Danielle Perez, Claire Zion, Kara Welsh, Leslie Gelbman, and everyone at NAL for all the enthusiasm shown for my Renegade Angels from auction to publication.
A tip of my hat to Beth Miller for all the little things.
A shout out to Erin Galloway for her input and for just being her.
Thanks to the art department for granting my wish to have Tony Mauro design my cover.
I have mad love for Tony Mauro and his head-turning, kick-ass artwork for Adrian. I’m grateful for the many ways he allowed me to use his art to share Adrian’s story.
Thank you to Monique Patterson for feeding my muse.
Huge thanks to Shayla Black and Cynthia D’Alba for reading early drafts of this story and helping me pull it together.
Much love to my friend Lora Leigh, to whom Lindsay/ Shadoe pay homage.
Lara Adrian, Larissa Ione, Angela Knight, and Cheyenne McCray are very busy women, yet they generously spent some of their precious time reading Adrian and Lindsay’s story. Thank you so much, ladies! I’m grateful.
GLOSSARY
CHANGE—the process a mortal undergoes to become a vampire.
FALLEN—the Watchers after the fall from grace. They have been stripped of their wings and their souls, leaving them as immortal blood drinkers who cannot procreate.
LYCANS—a subgroup of the Fallen who were spared vampirism by agreeing to serve the Sentinels. They were transfused with demon blood, which preserved their souls but made them mortal. They can shape-shift and procreate.
MINION—a mortal who has been Changed into a vampire by one of the Fallen. Most mortals do not adjust well and become rabid. Unlike the Fallen, they cannot tolerate sunlight.
NAPHIL—singular of nephalim.
NEPHALIM—the children of mortal and Watcher parents. Their blood drinking contributed to and inspired the vampiric punishment of the Fallen.
(“they turned themselves against men, in order to devour them”—Enoch 7:13)
(“No food shall they eat; and they shall be thirsty”—Enoch 15:10)
SENTINELS—an elite special ops unit of the seraphim, tasked with enforcing the punishment of the Watchers.
SERAPH—singular of seraphim.
SERAPHIM—the highest rank of an
gel in the angelic hierarchy.
VAMPIRES—a term that encompasses both the Fallen and their minions.
WATCHERS—two hundred seraphim angels sent to earth at the beginning of time to observe mortals. They violated the laws by taking mortals as mates and were punished with an eternity on earth as vampires with no possibility of forgiveness.
Go tell the Watchers of heaven, who have deserted the lofty sky, and their holy everlasting station, who have been polluted with women, and have done as the sons of men do, by taking to themselves wives, and who have been greatly corrupted on the earth; that on the earth they shall never obtain peace and remission of sin. For they shall not rejoice in their offspring; they shall behold the slaughter of their beloved; shall lament for the destruction of their sons; and shall petition for ever; but shall not obtain mercy and peace.
The Book of Enoch 12:5–7
CHAPTER 1
“Phineas is dead.”
The pronouncement hit Adrian Mitchell like a physical blow. Gripping the handrail to counterbalance his shaken composure, he rounded a bend in the stairwell and looked at the seraph who ascended abreast of him. With the relaying of the news, Jason Taylor advanced into Phineas’s former rank as Adrian’s second-in-command. “When? How?”
Jason easily kept up with Adrian’s inhuman pace as they approached the roof. “About an hour ago. It was called in as a vamp attack.”
“No one noticed a vampire within striking distance? How the fuck is that possible?”
“That was my question. I sent Damien to investigate.”
They reached the last landing. The lycan guard in front of them pushed open the heavy metal door, and Adrian slipped sunglasses over his eyes before stepping into the Arizona sunshine. He watched the guard recoil from the ovenlike heat, then heard a complaining growl from the second lycan, who brought up the rear. As base creatures of instinct, they were susceptible to physical stimuli in ways the seraphim and vampires were not. Adrian didn’t feel the temperature at all; the loss of Phineas had chilled his blood.
A helicopter waited on the pad in front of them, its whirring blades churning the oppressively dry and gritty air. Its rounded side was emblazoned with both MITCHELL AERONAUTICS and Adrian’s winged logo.
“You have doubts.” He focused on the details because he couldn’t afford to vent his fury now. Inside, he was shattered by grief over the loss of his best friend and trusted lieutenant. But as leader of the Sentinels, he couldn’t appear diminished in any way. Phineas’s death would send ripples through the ranks of his elite unit of seraphim. The Sentinels would be looking to him for strength and guidance.
“One of his lycans survived the attack.” Despite the roar of the aircraft’s engine, Jason didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard. He also didn’t cover his seraph blue eyes, despite the pair of designer shades perched atop his golden head. “I find it a bit . . . odd that Phineas was investigating the size of the Navajo Lake pack; then he gets ambushed on the way home and killed. Yet one of his dogs survives to call it in as a vamp assault?”
Adrian had been utilizing the lycans for centuries as both guards for the Sentinels and heeler dogs to herd the vampires into designated areas. But recent signs of restlessness among the lycans signaled a need for him to reevaluate. They’d been created for the express purpose of serving his unit. If necessary, Adrian would remind them of the pact made by their ancestors. They could have all been turned into soulless, bloodsucking vampires as punishment for their crimes, but he’d spared them in return for their indenture. Although some of the lycans believed their debt had been paid by their predecessors, they failed to recognize that this world was made for mortals. They could never live among and alongside humans. Their only place was the one Adrian had made for them.
One of his guards ducked low and pushed through the air turbulence created by the helicopter blades. Reaching the aircraft, the lycan held the door open.
Adrian’s power buffered him from the tempest, allowing him to proceed without effort. He looked at Jason. “I’ll need to question the lycan who survived the attack.”
“I’ll tell Damien.” The wind whipped through the lieutenant’s blond locks and sent his sunglasses flying.
Adrian snatched them out of the air with a lightning-quick grasp. Vaulting into the cabin, he settled into one of the two rear-facing bucket seats.
Jason occupied the other one. “But I have to ask: is a guard dog that can’t guard worth anything? Maybe you should put him down to reinforce that by example.”
“If he’s at fault, he’ll pray for death.” Adrian tossed the shades at him. “But until I know otherwise, he’s a victim and my only witness. I need him if I’m to catch and punish those who did this.”
The two lycans dropped onto the opposite row of seats. One was stocky, a bruiser. The other was nearly equal in height to Adrian.
The taller guard secured his seat belt and said, “That ‘dog’s’ mate died trying to protect Phineas. If he could’ve done something, he would have.”
Jason opened his mouth.
Adrian held up a hand to keep him quiet. “You’re Elijah.”
The lycan nodded. He was dark haired and had the luminous green eyes of a creature tainted with the blood of demons. It was one of the points of contention between Adrian and the lycans that he’d transfused their seraph ancestors with demon blood when they’d agreed to serve the Sentinels. That touch of demon was what made them half man/half beast and it had spared the souls that should have died with the amputation of their wings. It also made them mortal, with finite life spans, and there were many who resented him for that.
“You seem to know more about what happened than Jason does,” Adrian noted, studying the lycan. Elijah had been sent to Adrian’s pack for observation, because he’d displayed unacceptable Alpha traits. The lycans were trained to look to the Sentinels for leadership. If one of their own ever rose to prominence, it might lead to divided loyalties that could spark thoughts of rebellion. The best way to deal with a problem was to prevent it from occurring in the first place.
Elijah looked out the window, watching the roof recede as the helicopter lifted high into Phoenix’s cloudless blue sky. His hands were fisted, betraying his breed’s innate fear of flying. “We all know a mated pair can’t live without each other. No lycan would ever deliberately watch their mate die. Not for any reason.”
Adrian leaned back, attempting to ease the tension created by restraining wings that wanted to spread and stretch in a physical manifestation of his pained rage. What Elijah had said was true, which left him facing the possibility of a vampire offensive. His head fell back against the seat. The need for vengeance burned like acid. The vampires had taken so much from him—the woman he loved, friends, and fellow Sentinels. The loss of Phineas was akin to severing his right arm. He intended to sever far more than that from the one responsible.
Knowing his sunglasses wouldn’t hide the flaming irises that betrayed his roiling emotions, he shuttered his gaze . . .
. . . and almost missed the glint of sunlight on silver.
He jerked to the side by instinct, narrowly missing a dagger slash to the neck.
Comprehension flashed. The pilot.
Adrian caught the arm reaching around his headrest and snapped the bone. A female scream pierced the cabin. The pilot’s broken limb flopped against the leather at an unnatural angle; her blade clattered to the floorboard. Adrian released his harness and spun around, baring his claws. The lycans shot forward, one on either side of him.
Without a guiding hand at the stick, the helicopter pitched and yawed. Frantic beeping sounded from the cockpit.
The pilot ignored her useless arm. Using the other, she thrust a second silver dagger through the gap between the two rear-facing seats.
Bared fangs. Foaming mouth. Bloodshot eyes.
A goddamned diseased vampire. Distracted by Phineas’s death, he’d made a fucking major oversight.
The lycans partially shifted, unle
ashing their beasts in response to the threat. Their roars of aggression reverberated in the confined space. Elijah, hunched by the low roof, pulled back his fist and swung. The impact knocked the pilot into the cyclic stick, shoving it forward. The nose of the helicopter dove, hurtling them toward the ground.
The wailing alarms were deafening.
Adrian lunged, tackling the vampress with a midsection hit and smashing her through the cockpit window. Free-falling, they grappled.
“One taste, Sentinel,” she sing-songed through froth, her eyes wild as she struggled to bite him with needle-sharp canines.
He punched into her rib cage, rending flesh and splintering bone. Fisting her pounding heart, he bared his teeth in a smile.
His wings snapped open in a burst of iridescent white tipped in crimson. Like a parachute deploying, the thirty-foot expanse halted his descent with teeth-rattling abruptness, ripping the beating organ free of the writhing vampire. She plummeted to the earth, trailing acrid smoke and ash as she disintegrated. In his hand, the heart still pumped, spurting viscous blood before losing life and bursting into flame. He crushed the fleshy organ into a pulpy mass, then tossed it aside. It fell in burning embers, billowing away in a glittering cloud.
The helicopter whined as it spiraled toward the desert floor.
Tucking his wings in close, Adrian dove toward the aircraft. One lycan peered out the windowless cockpit, his face blanched and eyes glowing green.
Jason shot out of the damaged helicopter like a bullet. He circled back, his dark gray and burgundy wings a racing shadow across the sky. “What are you doing, Captain ?”
“Saving the lycans.”
“Why?”
The ferocity of Adrian’s glare was the only answer he deigned to give. Wisely, Jason banked and came around.
