A vampire who has given up on love gets a second chance from a most unlikely mortal...

For two thousand years, vampire elder Stacia has roamed on her own, haunted by the betrayal that turned her into a creature of the night. Her nights looming empty and eternal, Stacia longs for love, but settles for quick bites and sinful pleasures in South Beach. Until she comes face–to–face with the unforgettable DEA agent she once brought back from the brink of death.

Alex Garcia knows that demons exist–the real kind, the kind that are kidnapping women and selling them into slavery. Finding those victims is his focus–not a beautiful seductress whose otherworldly abilities can't possibly be real. But when Stacia summons all her powers to prove what she really is, Alex will summon all his to believe in the vampire's kiss....

Chapter 1

The nightmares had sucked life from him for months.

Then they had stopped abruptly. Tonight's bad dream was far worse. It sank its teeth deep and refused to let go.

Maybe it was wrong to call it a dream, Alex Garcia thought as he walked into a scene that was so vivid he could smell, taste and feel all that was around him.

The apartment he entered was dank and reeked of urine from the many squatters that had used the place for shelter. Only the chill of the winter night kept his discomfort to a tolerable level in the abandoned apartment. His cold sweat on the grip of his Glock turned the stock slippery. His gut tightened as he held his breath.

He was nervous.

Not a condition he was used to. He had grown accustomed to danger in his many years as a DEA agent. This mission was different.

Failure on this mission meant the possibility of death for hundreds of innocent civilians.

Never again.

He repeated the vow he had made after September 11, the one that had been the reason he had accepted this assignment.

He gripped the Glock tighter and moved farther into the apartment. He and his fellow Cuban Democratic Army member were supposed to pick up a stolen handheld smartbomb delivery system that the CDA planned to use in the terrorist attack that he intended to prevent.

The weapon was not in the empty apartment as it should have been. As he turned to look at his partner, wondering if they had gone to the wrong location, another CDA member stepped from a back room and opened fire.

The force of the blow to his chest had him reeling backward. The pain was so intense he nearly blacked out from it. When a second blast immediately followed, ripping into his midsection, his knees buckled.

He fell back against the wall, slowly sinking to the ground in a sitting position, the body of the other CDA member sprawled beside him. The man's lifeless stare confirmed that he was dead, much as Alex expected to be shortly as his assailant trained his weapon on Alex's head for the coup de grace.

The loud sounds of gunfire and an explosion outside the room distracted the shooter long enough for Alex to raise his weapon and fire.

With a surprised look, the armed man lowered his gun and stared at the blossoming trail of blood down the middle of his chest. It was the last thing he saw as he dropped to the ground, dead from a direct shot to the heart.

Alex had little time to ponder what to do next.

He was too badly wounded to move. Already he could feel the growing warmth of the blood soaking into his clothing and leaving a chill behind in his body. He was going to die there, alone and unable to do anything else to help stop the terrorist attack.

He had failed in his mission.

Outside the apartment all hell had broken loose judging from the noises reverberating in the winter night. The FBI must have moved in and the CDA was likely fighting back, determined to complete their plot.

A second later, the door to the apartment burst open, slamming against the wall.

His eyesight was fading, but he saw that a man had entered the room. He was holding something.

Someone.

He forced himself to focus and realized the man held Alex's ex–lover, but Diana wasn't moving. Blood covered the man's arms and hands as he embraced her.

Diana's blood. Too much of it.

Alex forced himself to take a painful breath, attempting to speak. It managed to get the man's attention, and as his gaze wavered, Alex finally glimpsed the man's face.

Only it wasn't a man.

Shock gathered his senses, bringing Alex to painful alertness.

He had to protect Diana from whatever that was. He tried to raise his gun, only his body refused to cooperate. He couldn't move his arm. Couldn't even feel the Glock in his hand anymore as awareness fled his dying body.

A voice suddenly penetrated his fading consciousness.

They weren't alone in the room any longer. He trained his attention on that voice–a woman's husky tones.

'This one's still alive."

Alex realized she was referring to him, not that he would be alive for much longer. That realization didn't bring fear for himself, but for those he had failed.

"Unlike your friend will be shortly," the woman added and motioned to the monster holding Diana in his arms.

"Leave," the demon commanded, pain evident in that one word, but the woman just laughed and sauntered over. She crouched before the demon and Diana.

Alex's hearing and vision were dimming quickly. Only a confused murmur of voices came to him, but then the woman shot upright and strode angrily across the room toward him.

Her bright, almost phosphorescent blue–green gaze locked with his, her fangs clearly visible. A vampire, he thought for the barest of moments.

Only, vampires weren't real.

What he was seeing had to be a product of his blood loss, he thought.

But as the woman leaned closer, there was no denying what stood before him. She stared at him hard and, for a moment, reverted to human form.

She was quite beautiful as a human, he thought, before the vampire returned and bent toward him. Sharp fangs grazed his neck as the warm kiss of her lips slipped across his skin, awakening ardor.

Bestowing passion that twisted together with the pain in his body and soul as her fangs broke through his skin.

Alex shot up in bed, drenched with perspiration. Shaking from the reality of the waking nightmare and the desire that was always associated with it.

As he wiped his hands across his face, clearing the cold sweat of fear mixed with unwanted passion, he tried to scrub away the memories of the demon as well, but they refused to leave.

Refused to depart in much the way that the recurring memories of that winter night had not left him.

Alex cursed beneath his breath, hoping that he could muster enough control by the morning to pass his psychological review tomorrow. He had been itching to get back into the field for months. If the DEA psychologist picked up on the vibes from his nightmare, Alex was worried that the shrink wouldn't clear him for undercover duty.

Who could trust an agent in the field who worried that vampires roamed the darkness?

He had to get a grip, he told himself, lying back down and willing himself to go back to sleep. An untroubled sleep free of the nightmare of the failed mission and the monsters that haunted his nights.

But even as he was finally able to drift off, the vision of her face–both vampire and mortal–wove itself into his subconscious, leaving him to wonder if he maybe wasn't losing his sanity.