By Adrian Phoenix

HIS identify IS DANTE.Dark. gifted. attractive. megastar of the rock band Inferno. Rumored proprietor of the recent New Orleans nightspot membership Hell. Born of the Blood, then damaged through an evil past imagination.HIS earlier IS A MYSTERY.F.B.I. detailed Agent Heather Wallace has been monitoring a sadistic serial assassin often called the go state Killer, and the path has led her to New Orleans, membership Hell, and Dante. however the dangerously appealing musician not just resists her research, he claims to be "nightkind": in different phrases, a vampire. Digging into his earlier for solutions finds little. A juvenile checklist a mile lengthy. No social safety quantity. No identified beginning date. out and in of foster houses for many of his lifestyles earlier than being taken in via a guy named Lucien DeNoir, who seems to be to protect mysteries of his own.HIS destiny IS CHAOS.What Heather does learn about Dante is that whatever hyperlinks him to the killer -- and she's lovely convinced that hyperlink makes him the CCK's subsequent aim. Heather needs to resolve the reality approximately this sensual, complex, weak younger guy -- who, she starts off to think, could certainly be a vampire -- so one can eventually carry a killer to justice. yet Dante's prior holds a surprising, risky mystery, and as soon as it really is published no longer even Heather might be in a position to defend him from his destiny....

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Moore’s request was simple. All he had to do was bring an agent in. And let a killer walk. Again. 10 Unforeseen RONIN PULLED HIS CAMARO over to the curb and switched off the engine. He glanced at the handheld GPS receiver. Dante’s movement had stopped, then resumed, but at a much slower pace. So…the boy was now on foot. Getting out of his car, Ronin stepped onto the sidewalk and tabbed his debit spike into the parking meter, then set it for two hours. He checked the GPS receiver, then started walking down neon-lit Canal Street, toward the Mississippi.

She touched a hand to the cold metal door. Pictured Gina beneath the sheet. Remembered Dante saying: He took everything from her. Heather’s throat tightened. True. Everything. But once she nailed this bastard, Gina would have one last opportunity to speak. Small comfort. After three long years, she finally had a link to the Cross-Country Killer: Dante. But at what cost? Dropping her hand from the cold storage door, Heather walked across the room, cold pinching the nape of her neck. She refused to look back.

The blonde studied her, expression neutral, but her brown eyes sharp. “I’m sorry,” Heather said, managing a smile. ” “Simone,” she answered, returning Heather’s smile. “You look tired. ” Heather unknotted her hands and pressed her fingers flat against her slacks. Nodding, Simone walked across the room. She paused at the archway and looked back at Heather, her long blonde hair swinging against her denim-skirted hips. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Heather smiled in acknowledgment of her statement and what was implied: Don’t go anywhere.

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