Silent Stalker: Lowrance Vampires #2

But when someone unleashes a horde of newly turned and hungry vampires on an unsuspecting Manhattan, Pepper pursues her role as a seeker of justice for the dead and a protector of the living. Taking to the streets as the Silent Stalker is only the beginning of the hunt for the culprits behind the deaths plaguing the city.

To find the answers she needs, she must embrace what it means to be Emerick’s partner in life and beyond death while also accepting everything she has become—including being a vampire.

Silent Stalker is book two of the Lowrance Vampires series.

Where to Purchase

eBook: Patreon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple Books | Amazon | Smashwords

* Print, Paperback (6×9): Bookshop | Barnes & Noble | Amazon (Blank Edges)

Audiobook: Patreon | Kobo | Audible | Chirp

* Note: All 6×9 Paperback editions have forced print edges unless purchased at Amazon.

From Chapter One…

For the first time since rising from a shallow grave, I woke before the sun set. Emerick slept, using my shoulder as a pillow. A shadow moved in the darkness, and I tensed.

The toothpick of a stake I’d carved in the days before challenging my father flared to life, illuminating our bedroom in the golden light of the rising sun. Unlike morning’s burning rays, the glow warmed me and offered soothing comfort.

Emerick’s maker, Clarke, hissed from the corner he skulked in and shielded his eyes.

I dislodged my husband and sat up, careful to keep my bare chest covered. Emerick snorted and jolted awake.

“It’s just Clarke,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the interruption to our sleep. “Hasn’t anyone told you that walking around when the sun is still up is rude, Clarke?”

Emerick’s master chuckled and relaxed. While my stake continued to illuminate the room while offering me its warmth, the old vampire relaxed his stance and lowered his hand from his face. “It’s done.”

The worry I’d carried around with me since meeting my father over a week ago flowed out of me on a relieved sigh. “How did she handle it?”

“She bit me. Repeatedly.”

My mother had bitten Clarke? My eyes widened. “Is she okay?”

“Your enjoyment of vampiric blood must be genetic. Once she gets a hold, she does not like letting go. I must be like candy to her,” Clarke complained, and he showed me his pristine left wrist. He pointed at a spot. After closer examination, I spotted a hint of red in the shape of a crescent, exposing my mother’s bite.

“The situation is worse than we feared,” he announced.

How could the situation get worse? Clarke had waged war against my father to steal my mother out from under his nose while I’d issued a challenge as a distraction. That accusations of involvement hadn’t yet been leveled my way astonished me.

Then again, I had a solid alibi along with the rest of the Lowrance brood. How could we kidnap my mother when we’d been keeping my father close company?

“What’s wrong with my mother?”

“There is nothing wrong with her, but it is probable she is turning into one of us. I suppose if she does not wish to become a vampire, there is a great deal wrong with her. Someone has fed her vampiric blood, likely in her meals. As far as I can tell, the culprit has been disguising it as cow’s blood, like you get with a rare steak. There is also the possibility of the blood having been hidden within sauces. She did not know she is primed to become one of us. Two days after I removed her from her home, she began showing symptoms of withdrawal. On the third night, shortly after sunset, she attacked me. When I took her from her home, she bit me during the struggle, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. She has not developed her fangs yet.”

I lowered my head, muttering curses under my breath and debating how to handle the news. “Are you saying someone has been experimenting on my mother?”

“Yes. She was unaware, but she is addicted to vampire blood now, much like you are addicted to young Emerick. Unlike your mother, you made an educated decision to bind yourself to him. You have been working to strengthen your bond with him as much as he has been working to strengthen his bond with you. Yours is a mutual choice. She had that choice taken from her. I have some of my brood on call to make certain she has access to blood if she needs it, but I fed her well before coming here. She is not emotionally sound at this point, but after she attacked me, she understood I hadn’t lied to her. I need to return to Europe before she needs more blood. I have spoken to her about her choices. She is not a vampire—yet. But she has been exposed enough turning may work even without needing a great deal of blood. She might not even need to face death to begin the turn. This news couldn’t wait. Pepper, you may have been experimented on, too.”

I scowled. In the days following my meeting with my father, Emerick and I had progressed to sleeping however we felt like at the time. In my case, it had involved randomly deciding if I would wear pajamas to bed. I’d also discovered I suffered from touch starvation, and I sought out attention from him at every opportunity.

I hated myself for making idiotic conditions on when we could indulge in our status as a couple.

We’d get there—hopefully sooner than later.

But first, I needed to deal with the problem of Clarke’s implication there was more to me becoming a vampire than we’d believed. “You think there’s more to my survival than drinking so much vampiric blood when I’d been turned?”

“I do, but I can’t know for certain. Your mother has been eating a lot of rare meats, especially cow, to the point it has been barely seared. Her food had been served with various sauces, often on the cooler side, likely the temperature needed for fresh blood to maintain its integrity. She has a ravenous appetite, much like the newly turned. She even mentioned that she has been avoiding dairy. She did not seem to know vampires are lactose intolerant. She just stopped eating it because it made her feel unwell. There are other signs she is transitioning, too.”

“Like attacking you?” I muttered more curses, and not really caring if Emerick gave his maker a show, I stole our blanket, grabbed clothes from the dresser, and headed for the bathroom. “Give me five minutes. I need clothes for this conversation.”

Emerick sighed. “What about my modesty?”

“You have modesty? Pretend you’re a peacock and show off your feathers. I’m the modest one. You’re the peacock. Go be a peacock.”

“He is not the one I want to show off to, Pepper. I have no desire to act like a peacock in front of my maker.”

“You can show off to me later. Put on a suit or something. That counts as showing off like the spoiled peacock you are. If Clarke helps you, it won’t take you long to get appropriately dressed.” I dragged the blanket into the bathroom and closed the door before taking the quickest shower of my life and getting dressed. In my hurry, I’d grabbed a set of silk pajamas without realizing it. Dressed was dressed, and I’d worry about becoming socially acceptable after I found out more about what had happened to my mother—and if my father had been involved.

I did take the time to brush my teeth and tame my hair, buying a few extra minutes trying to figure out what my father was up to—or if someone in my father’s household had decided to attack my family in a rather ruthless fashion.

Before I’d been killed and turned into a vampire, I had eaten a lot of rare steaks, as it was among one of my favorite foods. Fancy sauces with unpronounceable names had been a staple, something my father had always insisted he couldn’t live without.

I feared what we would learn if we kept scratching at the surface.

Bracing for the worst, I left the bathroom, returning the blanket to the bed. Clarke adjusted Emerick’s tie before giving his approval. The classic black suit with white shirt suited him, and I appreciated the amethyst cuff links and tie clip.

“Pajamas?” Emerick asked with laughter in his voice. “You put me in a suit and picked pajamas for yourself? You are a wicked woman.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t fully awake when I went to the dresser, and once in the bathroom, I figured it was better than running around naked.” I shrugged, and went to my nightstand, picking up my toothpick of a stake and sliding it in the tiny leather sheath Emerick had acquired for me. I wore it on a silver chain so it rested near my heart.

“You let her do that?” Clarke asked with a raised brow. “Did you not see what it did?”

“You mean its sunlight trick? Indeed. I have seen it. Did it exert itself when you came in?”

“I received the message of a clear and present danger if I did not secure its approval. After I bullied your brood into letting me in, I skulked around waiting for sunset. It started to glow when I came into the room, and it was monitoring me the entire time. It only glowed in earnest when I startled your wife awake. It intrigues me that its light does not seem to bother your Pepper.”

Emerick chuckled, came over to me, and lifted the chain and my tiny stake, rubbing his thumb over its sheath. “It does its best to comfort her. One day, she will be able to walk in the light of the sun, but it is aware of her longing. She didn’t choose this life. It was born in the light, and it has figured out how to share that warmth without hurting her. I appreciate its efforts.”

“If anyone finds out how sentient her stakes are, she will be in even more danger.”

Emerick nodded and eased the stake back to its spot next to my heart before kissing my cheek. “Do not mind my maker. He is always edgy when he has young vampires in his care and cannot immediately attend to them. It seems he has decided your mother is his. He also has a few other younglings, although they are all male.”

I could think of worse caretakers for my mother, especially as I had Clarke to thank for my ongoing survival. “And my mother’s opinion on this?”

“Before or after she decided I was her next meal?” Emerick’s master asked in a wry tone.

“Both.”

“Before, she viewed herself as the victim of a kidnapping and was not at all receptive to listening to my reasons for plucking her out of the ivory tower. Then the cravings started in earnest. She didn’t understand what she craved. When she attacked me, it clicked. She understood. I have no proof who is behind it, but someone did a true evil to her. During her attack, she fought with a human’s strength, but desperation gave her an edge, hinting at her future preternatural power. It was a challenge to restrain her, as she had not consumed my blood at that point. Once I realized what ailed her, I allowed her to bite, and once she consumed enough of my blood to control, I monitored her until I determined she had enough energy to be sustained. This is only speculation, but I feel she has been receiving blood daily for at least a few months. The dependency is significant.”

“And to vampire blood only?” Emerick asked, narrowing his eyes. “Have you tried other bloods yet?”

“She is not sickened by other blood types, and I will be making sure she is adapted to drinking all types of blood. Even now, my other children try different blood types with her, preparing her for the reality of her new life. But this is a cause for concern. As far as I can tell, she had no idea someone had experimented on her. Fortunately, she is convinced I would never do that to anyone. My children helped with that some.”

Emerick’s smile had a grim edge. “You showed her some of your temper?”

“I swore to her I would present the severed heads of those responsible for it. I may have crushed some furniture in my moment of temper. I then apologized for such violence.” Clarke’s smile lacked any edge, and something about his eyes softened. “She joined me in destroying furniture, and then she took a piece of wood and asked if I had a knife. She thought it was a shame to just waste it. It is obvious where your Pepper inherited her inclination for being a carver. Her mother is a being of creation. I believe she is making herself a collection of crochet hooks and knitting needles at the moment. Her eyes lit up with the vibrancy of the sun when I promised I would provide fiber or spun yarn for her use.”

The memories of my mother finding solace in weaving, knitting, or crocheting hurt. “It is her escape. My father thought it was an acceptable hobby for a woman of her status. He sometimes praised her for it, and he even took one of the blankets she made to work. It was a masterpiece, and only that one was good enough for him to display.”

“It is an escape I will continue to nurture, and I will accept anything she makes with pride at having been chosen to receive her gift,” Clarke promised. “But this is still a problem. Does this pathetic excuse for a human understand what was being made in his own home?”

Emerick took his time thinking about it, and while I waited for him to break the silence, I checked on my stakes, making sure none of them had gone missing in the night. All were accounted for, and I spread them out on the dresser and dusted them off.

“I am not certain I understand what she is becoming,” Emerick admitted.

“A masterpiece of preternatural strength.” Joining me, Clarke admired my stakes, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Have you been teaching her to care for them, or does she still work by instinct?”

“It’s a mix. I am easing her away from bad habits as needed, but she has few of those. Her instincts are remarkable for her stakes. She takes longer to bond with stakes others have made, and she is more likely to develop a relationship with ones I carved.”

“That is a promising sign. How are they taking to you?”

“Well, I have not been turned to ash for joining my wife in our bed as of yet, so I consider myself blessed at this point in time.”

I recognized when Emerick teased me, and I displayed my middle finger for his enjoyment. “They understand I would become heartbroken if I lost my next meal. Is there anything else I should know about my mother, Clarke?”

“Yes. Considering the circumstances, I spoke with her about you at length. She made some concerning comments. When you were younger, you showed a strong preference for vegetarian dishes or white meat; you loathed steak as a general rule. You would accept pork, but you preferred chicken. Around age eleven, that changed. You began becoming more adventurous. By the time you moved out of her home, you had become a voracious carnivore, and you had a very strong preference for rare steaks. In her words, you would be happier if it was still mooing on your plate. Your father also insisted you have dinner with him at least four days every week, more if able—or lunch.”

I nodded. “I don’t remember much about my childhood or what I liked to eat, but I can verify that my father insisted I have dinner or lunch with him often. He would have one of his chefs handle lunch at work, especially if we had business meetings, I guess. I think he sometimes cooked as time allowed. He likes cooking. I’d say I was forced to share at least ten meals a week with him. If it was breakfast, he tended to indulge me with steak and eggs.”

“Served rare.”

“Yes.”

“She used to be a vegetarian?” Emerick asked, his tone soft.

I’d been around him long enough to understand his rage boiled within him, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

“Not quite, but close enough. I suspect her transition to chicken would have been the result of being exposed to vampiric blood. But how was she initially exposed? That is what we were not able to figure out. It was easier to pinpoint when her mother was targeted—and it makes me believe that Pepper’s father has been fooling everyone.”

“He’s not a vampire. He goes out in the daytime often,” I said.

“But are you sure?”

I blinked. “What do you mean? There’s been no evidence he might be a vampire.”

“And at first glance, your maker tricks others into believing he isn’t a vampire. He can walk under the sun despite being young,” Clarke countered. “If one can do it, there’s no reason to believe another vampire can’t—or that your father is dabbling in even stronger magic than I believed possible. I can walk under the sun and mask my status as a vampire quite well. I choose not to. Emerick can as well. He also chooses not to.”

“There is a flaw with this,” Emerick stated. “She has no capacity for resisting the sun.”

“Oh?” Clarke asked, and the vampire’s toothy smile unnerved me.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked, afraid of the answer but refusing to allow my discomfort to stop me from pursuing the truth of my situation.

“I could throw you into the desert without a spec of shade in sight, and you wouldn’t burn. You would sleep. It took talking to your mother to figure it out. While you were made by another vampire, it was my blood that strengthened you and allowed you to live—but now that I know more, I think you would have risen even without any blood at all. If your mother is correct, you were maybe aged five when someone decided you would one day be a vampire. The practice might work, Emerick. We might not lose any if we were to try it ourselves, but with consent.” Clarke strolled to where my stakes waited on the dresser, picking up the one that had killed Carnegie, the nastiest of the prey I’d drained dry. “She rose faster, stronger, and attuned to sunlight. Instead of trying to kill her, the sun’s light cherishes her, and comforts her into a deep sleep. Any potential burning would be due to so long without any sunlight exposure, not because of magic. I paid attention when her stakes glowed. The stake worked magic—magic that eased the sun’s hold on her. Someone went too far with the protective magic, so she hibernates instead of burns. Pepper, did your mother’s personality change during the day compared to at night?”

I considered protesting his claim, but I kept my mouth shut and took the time to consider his words, thinking back on the past I wanted to forget. “She was always more relaxed during the day. At night, she’d be edgy—wary. She would knit as much as possible after I got home from school or work. During the day, she preferred other crafts. She made my father’s blanket at night when he was always hovering.”

I realized what bothered me.

My mother had acted like prey at night.

“Prey instinct,” I finally whispered. “It’s prey instinct. She would relax during the day because she wasn’t threatened, but the instant night fell, she became so wary, as though monsters would come out of the closet.”

“She detected a predator, and she reacted accordingly. That predator might be your father—or someone near your father. But there is no way that your father wouldn’t have been aware of your changes. At the very least, I believe him to be complicit in your making. While he will not be the one to make your mother into a vampire, she had the choice taken from her regardless. While I do believe that the amount of blood factored in Pepper’s swift recovery, the extended exposure to vampiric blood is part of her strength. I come bearing other news.”

Emerick exhaled a gusty breath. “Do I want to know?”

“You do.”

“What news, then?”

“One of my brood’s wives was old and dying. We attempted to raise her as she was dying anyway. We had nothing to lose.”

Emerick stiffened, but while he waited, he said nothing.

“She woke yesterday after sunset, and while she is not as resilient as your Pepper, she has begun her second life. We used twenty pints spread across two broods. We assured her she would not be inducted into any brides brood, and the brides brood handled most of the blood she required, although all members of my brood contributed blood, myself included. Normally, I would have stayed in Europe for a few more days to attend to her personally, but this was too important. We changed our tradition, and so she lived. She will be welcome among the brides, but she will never be asked to leave the man she has loved for her long but mortal life. It is only one success, but we have a second proof of concept. I have already notified the other brides broods, but I have made sure that they understand that the method is not guaranteed to work, and that your brood is still leading in research on how best to approach future turnings.”

“I cannot express my gratitude for coming when you have a new turning,” Emerick said.

“We all understand the importance of me discussing this with you personally. It doesn’t guarantee we can raise other women, but it’s a start. I do need to leave soon. I must make it back to Europe before Pepper’s mother thirsts. At this stage, I want to directly monitor how she consumes blood. That I need to take control to quell her impulse to drink now is not a good sign for the future.”

“Her predatory instincts are already awakening,” Emerick replied in a troubled tone.

“Yes, and I suspect her other appetites will waken soon as well. Her taking directly from my vein may have been a mistake.” Clarke set the stake down and picked up another, rolling it between his hands. “This leads me to my next request. Pepper, I would ask you to make a stake meant for your mother. If it’s carved with your hand and imbued with your desire for her ongoing survival, it might be the safest for her should she fall to her thirst. We have no way to realistically age the stake properly, and I do not want to make a lethal mistake with her.”

I already had a stake that met his requirements, and I went to the dresser, picking up the first one I had ever carved, stroking my fingers along its length. “This one, then. It was the first I made, and when I carved it, I grieved for losing her, fearing she would hate what I had become. I just wanted her to be free from my father and have a chance to be happy.”

As always, the wood warmed against my skin.

“Yes, that will work well. It was carved with love, and that’s the intent that is needed. May I take it? I do not wish to hurt her, but I am concerned. I expect she will have a difficult time adapting in some ways. It could also be that her body is ready to make the transition and she’s hunting for her first meal. I simply don’t know.”

I gave the stake a kiss before holding it out to Clarke. “Yes, of course. Has she taken the news of me becoming a vampire well? Had my father told her?”

“He had not told her, but when I spoke of Emerick and how you settle here, she seemed relieved.”

“I escaped to a place he can’t reach me.”

“Yes. I believe she has realized she has likewise escaped. When I left her to come here, she was busy making my home her home.”

Emerick’s eyes narrowed. “Do you intend to pursue her?”

“I admire her tenacity, much as you admire your Pepper’s tenacity, and unlike that monster she had been trapped with, I understand the importance of freedom. More, I respect her right to choose. She will be the one to decide if she is pursued. Will I play my cards in such a way I may become the victorious man? Of course. After learning what I have, that monster falls, and I will crush him so completely the world will understand that ambition and greed at the cost of a wife and a daughter will be punished beyond even the law.”

“He’s mine,” I warned Clarke.

Emerick’s maker grinned and showed off his fangs. “May the best vampire win then, Mrs. Lowrance. I will take my leave now. Consider these next few weeks to be a head start. When I return to these shores, I mean to wage war, and I will not show mercy solely because you wish to be the one to secure justice.”

Clarke left. The door leading to the reception opened and closed. I scowled.

Emerick laughed. “Your mother must have put up quite the fight when he picked her up. I have not seen my maker this lively in well over a hundred years.”

“But she’s still married to my father, Emerick.”

“Do you think that marriage would survive for long once she learned you lived and your father had used you to further his businesses? You did not get your fire from your father. May my maker be wise in his future steps, because I suspect he will find himself having bitten off more than he can chew.”

“Oh? And what about you, Mr. Lowrance?”

“Your rules vex me, but I look forward to the day you confirm we are a bonded pair.”

My rules vexed me, too. “One of these days, I will learn to think before I speak,” I complained, heading for the dresser to find proper clothes. “Hurry up and get bonded already. You’re slow.”

Emerick laughed. “Give it a few weeks of daily blood exchanges, and it will happen. There is something to be said about savoring the hunt, although I do find the current situation slightly frustrating.”

“Only slightly?”

His glare promised some form of future retribution, and with a grin, I picked a pair of tight jeans and a nice blouse.

“One day soon, I will enjoy making you pay for that, Mrs. Lowrance.”

I looked forward to it.