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Paladin's Kiss: A Paranormal Mystery Romance (Elemental Covenant Book 3)

Paladin's Kiss: A Paranormal Mystery Romance (Elemental Covenant Book 3)

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It’s the vampire wedding of the century… and maybe the end of an empire.

Main Tropes

  • British Hero
  • Found Family
  • Grumpy/Sunshine

Synopsis

Invited to the marriage ceremony of two old friends, Carwyn ap Bryn and Brigid Connor venture south, ready to relax in the company of Marie-Hélène Charmont, the vampire queen of the Delta, and four hundred of her esteemed immortal guests.

The upper echelons of vampire society have gathered in New Orleans, curious to witness the joining of Gavin Wallace, the immortal business mogul, to the human woman who captured his heart.

But when Gavin asks Brigid and Carwyn to look into a mysterious man stalking his human employees, they’re unprepared for the tangled web of deception they uncover. Tug on the wrong string and centuries-old alliances might fall apart.

In a tenuously balanced society full of apex predators; even one slip can prove disastrous.

Paladin’s Kiss is a supernatural mystery in the Elemental Covenant series by Elizabeth Hunter, nine-time USA Today bestselling author of A Hidden Fire, the Irin Chronicles, and over forty other works of fantasy fiction.

Preview of Book

Chapter One

Brigid saw the flashing blue lights in the side mirror, and her fangs dropped. She turned to her husband, who was driving the van. “I told ya it was a speed trap.”

Carwyn glanced to the side, then at the rearview mirror. “I was barely over the limit.” He pulled over onto the rough gravel shoulder. “I’ll do the talking, wife. You have a habit of rankling law enforcement.”

Brigid glanced at the three unconscious humans in the back of their converted Volkswagen van. “Can’t imagine why.”

The back of her throat burned when she smelled the humans behind their vehicle. The men passed out behind her stank of alcohol, methamphetamines, and sour sweat. It was easy to ignore their scent, but the officers behind them?

They smelled like dinner.

“He’s sitting on the hood of his car,” Carwyn muttered. “No respect for the schedule of others.”

“It’s a tactic to make us nervous.” Brigid narrowed her eyes as she watched her side mirror. “They definitely think we’re carrying drugs. Second one out of the car.”

“A camper van with California plates driving through rural Louisiana in the middle of the night?” Carwyn smiled as the man who’d been perched on the hood of the cruiser started to walk toward them. “I can’t imagine why they’d think drugs were an issue.”

She cranked down the van window and saw the outline of a second officer eyeing her window with interest in the flashing lights from the other side of the police cruiser.

“Tá dhá cheann acu.” There are two of them. She spoke in Irish, unwilling to give any information to the humans. “Second one is staying back.”

Carwyn glanced in the mirror. “Noted.”

“Má chuardaíonn said an carr…” If they search the car…

“They won’t.” He was wearing a black button-down shirt dotted with bloodstains. He carefully buttoned it up to the neck.

Brigid frowned. “What are you doing?”

He quickly folded a receipt and stuck it in a cup holder, then fiddled with his collar. “Keeping us from having to incapacitate any more humans tonight.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back, her eyes continuing to flick to the side mirror where it looked like the second officer had lit a cigarette.

Gimme.

Brigid stared at the glowing tip of the cigarette, the fire that lived under her skin pricking her to act; she pushed it back with practiced resolve.

Not tonight. Not here.

The human officer approached Carwyn’s window, and the scent of his blood made Brigid’s mouth water. She needed to feed, and not the blood in the drug-laced veins of the humans in the back of the van. This one smelled like he believed in clean living, mother’s cooking, and wild game.

Delicious.

The police officer finally sauntered to the window. He was a human in his early forties if Brigid was guessing correctly. He looked tired and a little worn-out.

Putting in the hours. Brigid recognized the expression. Punching the clock. This officer was sick of night shifts and bored to tears.

He cleared his throat and spoke in a broad Southern accent. “Evening, sir. Do you happen to know how fast you were going?”

It was as if her husband turned into a pile of friendly Jell-O instead of the mountain of muscle he was. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Officer!” The Welsh vampire laid on a thick Irish accent.

Brigid snorted and covered her mouth, turning it into a cough.

Carwyn continued, “I do believe I was going eighty kilometers an hour, was I not?”

The officer frowned. “’Scuse me? Where y’all from?”

“Oh shur, we’re from a humble Catholic mission in Ireland. I’m Father Cormac, and this is Sister Mary Clarence from the Sisterhood of the First Miracle in Kerry.” He motioned toward her. “Sister Mary Clarence, wave hello to the nice Garda.” Carwyn turned back to the officer. “She can’t speak, sir, as she’s recently taken a vow of complete silence.”

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the wee donkey, she was going to kill him when this was over. Brigid leaned forward and waved.

The human frowned. “From… Did you say Ireland?”

“We’re borrowing a vehicle from the parish in Los Angeleez, where we flew in from our last mission in…” He glanced at Brigid.

She smiled and pointed to her mouth.

“Fiji,” Carwyn blurted. “We were on a mission to Fiji.”

The police officer was already turned in circles from the accent. “I… I don’t know where that is.”

“Beautiful place.” Carwyn nodded solemnly, his accent growing broader by the moment. “A beautiful part of the Lord’s creation and full of heathen… cats.”

She snorted again and covered it with another cough.

“Cats?” the officer asked.

“Yes, that’s where we work, you see. In animal evangelism.” A beatific smile spread over his face. “Working among the world’s most vulnerable creatures to show the love of God to the voiceless.” He nodded toward Brigid. “That’s why my dear sister doesn’t speak.”

“Because of the cats?”

“Exactly. You don’t eat the flesh of God’s created animals, do you, young man? Ours is a strictly vegetarian mission.”

The officer rallied. “Sir, can I see your driver’s license? You were speeding.”

“Was I? Surely not.” Carwyn fumbled for his wallet. “The sign said fifty-five miles an hour there, and that’s nearly ninety kilometers and I was doing only eighty.”

The officer frowned. “Right. You were doing eighty in a fifty-five.”

“But eighty is below ninety, so I don’t see how I could be speeding.”

Brigid could see the police officer doing the math in his head.

“I don’t… I’m not sure what you’re used to—”

“I’m a law-abiding man, sir. A servant of God and the church.”

Brigid’s skin prickled when one of the humans in the back shifted his arm. The windows might be curtained, but all the officer would have to do was look back and the three bloody and crumpled men would be visible.

Carwyn said, “We’re trying to reach our new mission in New Orleans, you see. There’s a pack of feral dogs roaming the city that needs to know the Lord. Are you a Christian man, Officer?”

The man stammered. “Of course I am. I mean… I guess it’s been a while—”

“Perhaps the Lord brought you to me and my dear Sister Mary Clarence tonight. Do you need to unburden your heart? Perhaps call your mother or grandmother? I have a mobile phone here and we can do that. Can I pray for you, Officer…? I’m sorry, what is your name, sir? We could say a prayer right now. Together.”

“Okay, just slow down.” The police officer let out a nervous laugh and patted the side of the vehicle. “There’s your… blessing. Okay?” He stepped away. “Y’all keep it below fifty-five, you’ll make it to New Orleans nice and safe. Take the warning; keep it slow.”

Go. Just go now. Brigid braced for another round of blarney from her mate. Carwyn had a tendency to push a bit too far, which often caused more problems than it solved.

“Oh bless you, young man.” Carwyn made his voice creak just a little even though the officer looked older than the vampire did. “Bless you and your cats, sir.”

“Right. Y’all have a good night and keep it slow.”

Carwyn started the van and pulled onto the road, leaving the still-flashing blue lights in the distance behind them.

“Can we turn back to the interstate now?” Brigid asked.

“As soon as we drop off our young friends here.” Carwyn glanced across to her. “I see that you’ve chosen to break your vow of silence.”

“Mary Clarence? We’re making Sister Act jokes to the humans now?”

“Sister Mary Clarence had the voice of an angel; it was a compliment.”

“Evangelizing feral cats in Fiji,” she muttered. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“It wasn’t the feral cats, darling girl. I threatened to call his mother and pray with him. I could see the Catholic guilt radiating from him as soon as I called myself Father Cormac.”

“Never underestimate Catholic guilt.” She saw a sign flash by. “Take the next right.” She glanced at the human who’d moved before. “They’re starting to wake up.”

-------------------------------------

All vampires had an element given to them by their amnis, the immortal energy that lived within them like a current beneath their skin. Her husband was animated by the earth, the foundation of his energy, his immortality, and his massive strength. He stood over six feet with shoulders the size of a minor mountain range, a shock of dark red hair on his head, and a short beard he’d been growing for over a year.

So it came as no surprise to her that in addition to the handcuffs she’d used to secure the men to the railing, Carwyn had also buried them up to their waists in front of the sheriff’s substation in Lafayette Parish.

They were definitely not wiggling out of that restraint.

The men all had signs around their necks that advertised their crimes. One read: Ask me about the stolen property in my garage! Another read: I stole the Bensons’ car and beat up an old man. And the last one had a sign that read: I deal drugs to high school students.

Carwyn clapped his hands together. “And that’s what happens when you try to carjack a couple of vampires.”

Brigid saw the moment the humans began to wake.

They were bruised and had to be aching, but she didn’t have any sympathy. They’d attempted to disarm her husband with friendly banter and a false welcome at their local pub before sticking a gun to his back in the hallway, forcing him to their van, and trying to rob him.

“Hello, boys.” Brigid crouched down in front of the three men. “Remember what happened?”

What happened had been Brigid. The men didn’t know that she’d followed them out and saw them pull the firearm. Unlike most vampires, Brigid knew what kind of damage a gun could cause to their kind if used in the right way.

No gun was going to end a vampire’s life unless it completely severed their spine at the base of their neck, but a bullet wound anywhere along their nervous system could be catastrophic, if not life-threatening. As best as Brigid could figure, amnis worked with the nervous system, so any major damage to the spine or a primary nerve could produce severe consequences.

She looked at the men. “You put a gun to my husband; that wasn’t wise.”

The ringleader of the group blinked slowly. “You have fangs.”

“I do, but don’t flatter yourself. I’d sooner drink from a sewer than your neck. I understand addiction—heroin was my candy—but that doesn’t excuse the violence. Get help before you end up dead.” She stuffed the number of a local rehab place in the pocket of one of the men. “You don’t want to meet me again.”

He was still staring. “You have fangs.”

“Jaysus.” She stood and sighed. “What else should we do? Just leave them here?”

Carwyn was squinting at the darkness. “I think that’s our only option. Do you think the alligators leave the bayou and go roaming?”

“Carwyn, if I have to deal with you chasing any more wildlife—”

“They wouldn’t come and take a bite out of one of these two, would they?”

Brigid started to protest the men were fine, but she had to admit Carwyn might have a point. She crouched down in front of another of the men. “Wake up.” She patted his cheek, giving him a slight shock from her amnis when he was slow to rouse.

“Fuck.” The man jerked awake. “Where the hell am I?”

“How far can an alligator travel from water?” Brigid asked. “We’re not from around here, so I don’t know.”

The man looked around himself in a panic. “George? Buddy?”

“Answer the question.” She patted his cheek. “Alligators. Are you in danger from them if we leave you here?”

The man they called Buddy appeared to still be sleeping, but he spoke slowly and in an accent that Brigid barely understood.

“Yeah, gators gonna be a problem all right,” he muttered quietly.

Did she care?

Not really, but Carwyn might.

Brigid stood and walked back to the van. “He said the alligators wouldn’t be a problem.”

Her husband frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure. Come on now; we need to get to New Orleans before sunrise.” She walked quickly to the van.

Carwyn started to follow her. “We’ll call and report them from the highway.”

“Excellent idea.” That should get the men arrested before the creatures ate them.

The last thing Brigid needed was another black mark against her soul. She might be immortal, but eventually she’d be judged.

And if it wasn’t Saint Peter, she’d have to face Carwyn.

They were heading back toward the highway within minutes, and Brigid sighed in relief. No more local police officers. No more shady characters at darkened petrol stations. They were back in the world of the American interstate system, replete with garish neon signs, brightly lit parking lots the size of football fields, and plastic-packaged food that smelled of chemicals.

“I need to feed.” She’d been half hoping the police officer wouldn’t fall for Carwyn’s friendly-Irish-priest bit and would cause them problems.

No.

He hadn’t agreed to be her dinner.

“We’ll be at a safe club in two and a half hours. Can you make it that long?”

She cracked open a bottle of blood-wine and drank. “This should keep me from any road rage incidents.”

“Good, but crawl in back to drink that unless you want another encounter with law enforcement.”

“Fine.” She crawled in the back of the van and kicked her feet up on the bench. “Onward then.”

“To the wedding!” Carwyn grinned as he took the on-ramp.

“To the wedding.” Brigid took an extra gulp of blood-wine.

To the wedding.

The wedding.

On second thought, maybe she should have stayed behind with the alligators.

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