Viper (Sons of Sangue) Read online

  Reviews for Patricia A. Rasey’s works

  "Outlaw vampire bikers. The women who tame them. What's not to love? Patricia Rasey's new series Sons of Sangue is hot!" —Monette Michaels, author of Security Specialists International series for Viper

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  "I picked up Viper: Sons of Sangue by Patricia A. Rasey. Needless to say, I was a goner from the first scene... a very hotttt one at that. Not only do we have extremely attractive Vampires, but these Vampires are in a motorcycle gang. BRILLIANT.” —Kimberly Rocha 5 Stars for Goodreads and Book Obsessed Chicks for Viper.

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  “I was hooked from the very beginning with the opening scene of the book, all the way to the very end. She mixed in all the things I think makes an incredible story. A great plot. Hot men. Danger. And incredible sex with said hot man. By the end of the story Miss Rasey had me thinking about the next book, then the one after that and so on. I sincerely hope she has already started on Viper's twin Kaleb's story, because I can only imagine it is going to be another great, steamy read.” —Michelle Boone 5 Stars, guest reviewer for Book Obsessed Chicks for Viper.

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  “You know when you get that one good suspenseful novel that will keep you up late at night, turning page after page, and when you’re done you wanna leave the light on? Well, Patricia Rasey's LOVE YOU TO PIECES is absolutely one of those novels, and one that I am going to be reading again and again. I did NOT want to put this one down. The intensity of the story, mixed with the complexity of the characters was enough to have me hungry for more!

  This is one book that will have you thinking twice before opening packages again. You'll be looking over your shoulder, feeling as if the book was written about you. This is most definitely a 5 star worthy novel that will forever be on my highest recommendation list. If you love that murder mystery that will leave you shaking and eyes bugging, then grab up a copy of Ms. Rasey's novel now. You will not be disappointed! I can't wait for another amazing suspenseful novel just like this one!” —Molly 5 out of 5 stars for Reviews by Molly for Love You to Pieces.

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  “I absolutely want to read more books by Patricia A. Rasey. Normally I don't read a lot of thrillers, but now I want more. Rasey knows how to capture her audience with her chilling story. Especially the Wizard of Oz references gave me the creeps. Very well done! I would definitely recommend this book to all of you.” —Jenny Buijs for Masquerade Crew for Love You to Pieces.

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  “Ms. Rasey pens a suspenseful tale of murder, passion and danger in DEADLY OBSESSION. A strong, sexy hero, Cole is every women's dream come true. A hard worker and tenacious once she's onto something, Laurie is my kind of woman; never backing down. For a true suspense tale that will send chills up and down your spine, order your copy of DEADLY OBSESSION today and then order the sequel to this thrilling novel, THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN.” —Robin Peek for The Word on Romance for Deadly Obsession.

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  “Patricia Rasey takes you on a wild ride through the dark side of life with this intriguing story. Prepare to be blown away by the killer. If you weren't a fan before, you definitely will be now!” —Kathy Boswell 4 1/2 stars for RT Book Reviews for The Hour Before Dawn.

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  “This is one book I'm glad I didn't miss.

  This was a book that kept me pretty riveted throughout the pages. It seemed so obvious who the killer actually was but Ms. Rasey managed at the very last minute to turn the tide and make you realize who the real killer was. That's not always an easy feat and, since I'm not sure how many books Ms. Rasey has behind her, I thought that she turned that corner rather well, all things considered. Yes, I guessed, at the very last moment, who the real killer was but it was truly at the very last moment and I like when that happens. It means, to me, that an author has done the deed well.” —Reviewed by Deborah Barber for Escape to Romance for Kiss of Deceit.

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  “Drop the clutch, let's burn out and roll! Patricia Rasey delivers the goods once again with this tight, fast paced tale of love, sex, kidnapping and murder. While this book definitely is a good stand-alone read, it's even more fun if you've read the first book in the series, "Kiss of Deceit". But if you haven't, don't worry; it isn't necessary to enjoy "Eyes of Betrayal"...Patricia definitely/impressively does her homework, and her in depth research shines through in a realistically tightly woven tale that will definitely get your motor running.” —Reviewed by Julie Amidon for Eyes of Betrayal.

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  “FACADE is a well-written thriller that moves at a fast pace and has lots of graphic scenes. K.C. Tanner and Sharalee MacArthur add romance to a tale of betrayal, revenge and murder. Nothing is, as it seems. The secondary character of Mike MacArthur is a man I didn't know whether to feel sorry for or dislike. If you have read any of Patricia Rasey's other books, you know she does not wrap them up in a pretty package and this one is no different. This is a keeper.” —Hattie Boyd, from Scribes World Reviews for Facade.

  Other Books by Patricia A. Rasey:

  Love You to Pieces

  Deadly Obsession

  The Hour Before Dawn

  Kiss of Deceit

  Eyes of Betrayal

  Facade

  Novellas:

  Spirit Me Away

  Fear the Dark

  Sanitarium

  VIPER

  Sons of Sangue

  Patricia A. Rasey

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the his book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Patricia A. Rasey

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purpose of reviews.

  Dedication

  To Lara Adrian, who pushed me to write a story about vampires and mentioned the one idea she knew I’d fall in love with: Vampire Bikers. Thanks for a friendship that’s lasted a lifetime!

  To my Beta Readers: Barb Auzins, Becky Heath and Suzi Behar for giving me their honest opinions, and being there for me throughout the book.

  To my editor, Blair Bancroft, for helping make Viper a better story. I appreciate your hard work, insight and expertise.

  To my Readers, you have my undying gratitude. Without you, I would have no one to tell my stories to. Thank you for reading them!

  And to my husband Mark, who has been by my side through thick and thin. I love you!

  Blurb:

  Kane 'Viper' Tepes is one of the oldest living descendants of Vlad III. Vampirism is in his blood. So is being the President of the Sons of Sangue. Those who break motorcycle club rules that protect their coven are dealt swift punishment. No exceptions. Until one pretty little detective has him compromising his beliefs, and endangering his position as head of the MC.

  Vampirism had Cara Brahnam turning tail and leaving behind her life in Pleasant. Now, ten years later, she's back as lead detective and wants to see the person responsible for draining the women of Lane County brought to justice, no matter what deal the gang of miscreants has struck with the sheriff. Or the fact that her number one suspect is the sole reason she fled in the first place.

  Now someone has targeted Cara as the next victim and Kane must join in the hunt to find the ancient vampire that wants her dead.

  Contents

  Reviews

  Other Works

  Cover Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Foreword
<
br />   Blurb

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Author Notes

  Connect Online with Patricia A. Rasey

  Prologue

  Against the wall, jeans slung low on lean hips, his motorcycle vest hiding a well-muscled ass, he slid smoothly in and out. The blonde’s back rode up the tiled wall with each thrust. Soft moans echoed off the bathroom ceramic tiles. Not his … just hers. He made no sound at all, which added to the eroticism as Cara watched the carnal scene play out before her. The woman’s legs wrapped his trim waist, her toes curling in open-toed sandals. Ash-blonde hair laid in disarray, hiding her facial features, all but her candy-apple red lipstick, the entire scene reflected in the mirror across from them.

  Cara’s heart damn near stopped as he tipped the blonde’s chin with the pad of his thumb. His deep-red tongue snaked out, licking the pulse visible beneath her pale white skin. His nostrils flared, his mouth opened and teeth pierced flesh, causing Cara to gasp and give up her position. The blonde, lost in ecstasy, barely glanced her way. It was the tightening of the leg muscles above his ass that gave away she had heard.

  But him … he raised his dark shaggy main of jet hair and turned toward her. His obsidian like gaze locked with hers, holding her feet fast to the white tiled floor. She couldn’t run if she wanted to. Elongated canine teeth dripped blood as he growled with menace. Her heart stopped dead for what felt like an eternity and light-headedness threatened to make her world go black. His second growl sent Cara into action as she swung the bathroom door wide and fled the room.

  His name spilling off the blonde’s red lips was the last thing she heard before the door swung shut.

  Kane.

  Chapter 1

  His thighs hugged the worn, brown leather seat of his Harley Davidson CVO Fat Bob as he leaned into the corner at seventy-miles-per-hour. Rubber tread ate up the asphalt and blurred the yellow lines beneath him. The wind rustled his dark hair as the Twin Cam Screamin’ Eagle 110 engine took the blacktop with ease. He loved the freedom of the open road. His black-leather motorcycle cut, flapped behind him, something he was rarely without. The jackets were referred to as cuts due to their sleeves being removed, giving them a vest-like appearance. He wore his with pride like the rest of his brothers.

  Kane pulled back the handle grip, gassing the engine. His bike hit ninety on the straightaway. His leather chaps beat against his denim clad legs in the cool breeze that came off the Siuslaw River, though he felt none of it. Low-hanging fog rolled in from the heavy cold air settling into the valley, blanketing the ground and hampering visibility. Normally, he might have taken a bit more precaution on the hairy road conditions, but not today. Too much weighed on his mind and speed seemed to clear it. Besides, he knew these roads like the back of his hand.

  The town of Pleasant, Oregon, had seen bloodshed as of late, or rather blood drainage. Two bodies had been found dumped in the Siuslaw National Forest, void of blood, and the law wanted answers. They had a blackguard on their hands, a nasty piece of work. They couldn’t afford one of them running loose, murdering innocents. The OMC, or rather Outlaw Motorcycle Club, had been questioned. Every one of his brothers. They were outlaws, one-percenters as the American Motorcycle Association had coined all outlaw bikers, therefore dangerous in the eyes of the law. Forget the fact they had protected the little town for decades because of their presence.

  No one dared intrude on their territory … not without repercussions. The OMC had its own form of justice. Swift and severe. When they found this miscreant, he’d be dealt with, but not by any court of law. Kane gassed the bike and buried the needle of the speedometer, feeling the liquid adrenaline course through his veins like a junky injecting heroine. Bikers were born to the road. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice, it was an identity. Most didn’t accept them, let alone understand them. They lived an existence outside of the law.

  He wore the president patch on his left breast. His twin, Kaleb, sat at his right hand, sporting the vice president patch. They were the oldest of the Sons of Sangue and the closest direct descendants of Vlad III himself, better known as Vlad Dracula or Vlad Tepes. They weren’t braggarts by any means, not with the man’s blackened history, just merely a fact of how they came into existence. Kane respected his position as president, even reveled in it, but some days it weighed on his shoulders … like with these recent murders. He needed to take care of business and fast before the cops focused solely on the club or discovered their secret.

  And if that weren’t enough, keeping the VP in order proved to be a challenge at times, he thought with a harrumph. Just the thought of his twin brother left him grumbling beneath his breath. Reckless is what he was. Hell, he only arrived in this world minutes before Kaleb, but by the way his brother acted, you would think years separated them. Kaleb could be downright foolhardy, leaving him the sole director of the Sons most days.

  Kane slowed his bike to a stop, his thighs holding it upright. He turned the key off, cutting the rumble of the bike short as he sniffed the air. His keen sense picked up the metallic tang of fresh blood. Just the scent had his fangs aching as they elongated from his gums. Hunger gnawed deep in his gut, as if he needed a reminder of what he was. He hadn’t fed in three nights, at least nothing of real substance. He could consume regular food when the need arose for him to fit into normal society, but it held no nutritional value for his kind. Without blood, they’d age rapidly and die.

  He unsnapped his skull cap, half helmet, hung it on the rubber grip of his handle bar, and turned his head to see if he could track the whereabouts of the scent. Kicking down the centerstand on his Harley, he swung a leg over the brown leather seat, and headed for the woods. He leapt effortlessly over the twelve-foot deep ditch, his black boots crunching on the fallen pine needles and debris as he landed. Kane ducked his six-foot-four inch frame under low hanging branches of the darkening woods. He didn’t need sunlight to see; his eyes were as good as night-vision goggles. Critters scurried for cover and birds took flight as a predator entered their sanctuary.

  Stopping momentarily, Kane raised his nose and sniffed the air again. The scent was ten times stronger than where he left his bike.

  Human blood.

  He followed a small trail that led deeper into the trees, stepping over fallen brush and limbs, skirting large Sitka spruces. About a football field from the road, Kane stopped next to a small mound of dirt.

  A very shallow grave.

  One that was meant to be found.

  Kane walked an arc around it, noting a red-tipped nail poking through the debris. He knew he should call the cops, not taint the crime scene due to his curiosity. Hell, they already suspected the Sons knew something about the previous crimes. He certainly didn’t need to give them evidence pointing right to their door. But if Kane could find clues as to who might be feeding off the humans and dumping their remains, he stood a much better chance of catching this son of a bitch before they did. Not likely the sheriff, Oregon State Police or their FSD, Forensic Services Division, would share any information with him. Besides, what would they do? Arrest him? Put him behind bars? Kane thought with a snort. There wasn’t a prison built that could hold his kind.

  With the toe of his boot, h
e moved the finger, further exposing the hand. Kane hunkered down and brushed away some of the dirt and leaves when his keen sense of hearing picked up the sound of someone approaching. He felt the presence of his twin long before he stood mere feet away. Kane didn’t bother to acknowledge Kaleb as he continued to uncover the body.

  Kaleb looked over Kane’s shoulder. “What the fuck? We got another drainage?”

  Kane brushed the dirt from his hands on the seat of his jeans as he stood to face Kaleb. Another scent hung in the air, one he couldn’t quite put a finger on. The promise of the oncoming rain, mixed with the heavy scent of dirt, tainted the air enough that he couldn’t get a handle on the smell. Possibly that of the perpetrator, indicating a fresh kill.

  “What the hell do you think?”

  “This is the third body in Pleasant … our town, Viper. You think whoever is responsible is sending us some kind of message?”

  “It’s starting to look that way.”

  “Then this fuck is pissing on us. We got to do something. Show this fuck he can’t shit in our territory.”

  Kane nodded slowly. Anyone knew that to disrespect an MC’s territory in such a manner would start an all-out war. The question was who would be stupid enough?

  “What the hell do you think they want?” He voiced his frustration aloud, not that he expected an answer from Kaleb. “We should call the sheriff.”

  “Jesus, Viper. You know they’ll try and lay this one on our doorstep again. They don’t trust us. I say we get rid of the evidence. Incinerate it. No body, no evidence of foul play.”