Never Cry Werewolf
Praise for L. A. Banks
UNDEAD ON ARRIVAL
“The intensity and pressure continue in the Crimson Moon series as this briskly paced supernatural thriller races toward its climactic confrontation. For these protagonists, treachery and sabotage may spell their doom; for readers, they spell hours of pure pleasure. Banks rules!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4½ stars)
BITE THE BULLET
“The second book of Banks’s electrifying werewolf saga [is] part special-ops thriller, part supernatural adventure. . . Utilizing her storytelling flair, Banks imbues her characters with both nobility and kick-ass attitude. It doesn’t get much better than this!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4½ stars)
“Tension, lots of action, and a current of sensuality. . . A novel that will provide hours of electric entertainment.”
—Singletitles.com
“Filled with action, this fast-moving read is as powerful as the first, and will keep fans coming back for more.”
—Darque Reviews
BAD BLOOD
“Super-talented Banks launches the complex and darkly thrilling new Crimson Moon series, which bursts with treachery and supernatural chills. The plot intricacies are carefully woven throughout, but Banks piles on the danger, making this one exciting thrill ride!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4½ stars)
“Banks takes on werewolves and makes them her own. . . A blast to read.”
—Kelley Armstrong
“Shadowy, sexy, intense.”
—Cheyenne McCray
“An action-packed thrill ride!”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherrilyn Kenyon
The Vampire Huntress Legend™ series
THE THIRTEENTH
“Wow! As usual, Banks blows your mind. This book is exciting from the first page, as all hell has broken loose. . .World religions, vampiric lore, and myths come into play, and overlying it all is a wonderful spirituality, as people of different cultures join forces to fight a pervasive evil. This powerful story makes you watch current events and wonder.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (Top Pick)
THE SHADOWS
“Steamy and chock-full of action.”
—Vampirelibrarian.com
THE CURSED
“A wild amalgam of Christianity, vampire lore, world myth, functional morality, street philosophy, and hot sex. . .fans couldn’t ask for more.”
—Publishers Weekly
THE WICKED
“A complex world of Good vs. Evil . . . The story is so compelling, the whole series must be read.”
—Birmingham Times
THE FORSAKEN
“Readers already enthralled with this sizzling series can look forward to major plot payoffs.”
—Publishers Weekly
“In the seventh book in her incredibly successful series. . .Banks presents interesting myths—both biblical and mythological. . .with prose that’s difficult to match—and most certainly just as difficult to put down.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4½ stars)
THE DAMNED
“All hell breaks loose—literally—in the complex sixth installment. . . .stunning.”
—Publishers Weekly
“In [The Damned], relationships are defined, while a dark energy threatens to destroy the entire squad. Banks’s method of bringing Damali and Carlos back together is done with utmost sincerity and integrity. They have a love that can weather any storm, even when dire circumstances seem utterly overwhelming. Fans of this series will love The Damned and, no doubt, will eagerly await the next book.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
THE FORBIDDEN
“Passion, mythology, war, and love that lasts till the grave—and beyond. . . .Fans should relish this new chapter in a promising series.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Superior vampire fiction.”
—Booklist
“Gripping.”
—Kirkus Reviews
THE BITTEN
“Seductive. . .mixing religion with erotic horror dosed with a funky African-American beat, Banks blithely piles on layer after layer of densely detailed plot. . .will delight established fans. Banks creates smokin’ sex scenes that easily out-vamp Laurell K. Hamilton’s.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The stakes have never been higher, and the excitement and tension are palpable in this installment of Banks’s complex, sexy series.”
—Booklist
THE HUNTED
“A terrifying roller-coaster ride of a book.”
—Charlaine Harris
“The well-conceived and intricate rules of Banks’s vampire-inhabited world provide endless opportunities for riffs on the meaning of power and sex that will please lovers of similar. . .philosophical musings found in the vampire tales of Anne Rice and Laurell K. Hamilton.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Hip, fresh, and fantastic.”
—Sherrilyn Kenyon,
New York Times bestselling author of
Dark Side of the Moon
THE AWAKENING
“An intriguing portrait of vampiric society, reminiscent of Anne Rice and Laurell K. Hamilton.”
—Library Journal
“L. A. Banks has taken her Huntress series to another level; the action, adventure, and romance have readers tingling with anticipation. . .I find myself addicted to this series.”
—Bookremarks.com
“Again, Banks brilliantly combines spirituality, vampires, and demons (and hip-hop music) into a fast-paced tale that is sure to leave fans of her first novel, Minion, panting for more.”
—Columbus Dispatch
MINION
“Banks’s mastery of character creation shines through in the strong-willed Damali. . .a sure-fire hit. . .pretty dramatic fiction.”
—Philadelphia Daily News
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles by
L. A. BANKS
The Crimson Moon Novels
Cursed to Death
Undead on Arrival
Bite the Bullet
Bad Blood
The Vampire Huntress Legend™ Novels
The Thirteenth
The Shadows
The Darkness
The Cursed
The Wicked
The Forsaken
The Damned
The Forbidden
The Bitten
The Hunted
The Awakening
Minion
Anthologies
Stroke of Midnight
Love at First Bite
NEVER CRY
WEREWOLF
L. A. BANKS
NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
NEVER CRY WEREWOLF
Copyright © 2010 by Leslie Esdaile Banks.
Excerpt from Left for Undead copyright © 2010 by Leslie Esdaile Banks.
Cover photograph © Barry David Marcus
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 978-0-312-94300-4
Printed in the United States of America
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 2010
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 1001
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DEDICATION
A book in and of itself is only words, thoughts, and feelings spilled onto paper . . . that truly doesn’t come to life until readers breathe their energy into it. I want to thank you all for hanging with me through two paranormal series that I’ve had the most fun of my career creating, namely, the Vampire Huntress Legends series and the Crimson Moon novels. BIG PHILLY HUG to my Street Team, without whom I couldn’t run around the country feeling like I was at home everywhere I go . . . to the book clubs that have embraced me, and to each and every single reader who stayed up nights to read my sagas, especially those who felt inspired to drop a beautifully enthusiastic e-mail. Believe me: I don’t care what any writer tells you, those notes of encouragement inspire us on our darkest days. Thank you all for the love!
SPECIAL ACKNOWLEDGMENT goes out to Manie Barron and Monique Patterson, my fabulous agent and editor extraordinaire as always. Thank you both for believing in me even when I hit a few rough patches. Holly and Rachel, St. Martin’s crew—thank you for “making it do what it do,” smile. I also want to thank Randall Recknagel, owner of Castle of Dracula wine, for showing me the breathtaking beauty of New Hampshire and for being a good friend! Thanks for showing me “Stephen King country,” man. Awesome.
But I would be remiss if I didn’t give a special shout-out to West Point buddies, Chip Armstrong (a fantastic writer in his own right—look for him in the near future), and Phil Beaver, Ph.D. Colonel, U.S. Army (Ret.) (another new author with forthcoming work), for their EXPERT military guidance in helping me master “military speak” (trust me, for this civvy it was like a crash course learning a foreign language), along with helping me to understand the complexities of rank, branches of government, and all the nuances of a life in uniform. You guys are both “Great Americans.” THANK YOU for your service to this country and for helping a crazy writer-lady, moi (to steal Chip’s designation for me, LOL!).
PROLOGUE
New Orleans . . . deep within the bayou
“Bring her to me,” Elder Vlad said through his fangs, his voice slicing the stillness of the night with a hissing whisper.
Vampire sentries vaporized into a dark mist, moving swiftly and silently between the trees. The ancient leader of the Vampire Cartel narrowed his gaze as he inhaled deeply, then vanished, only to reappear at the far side of the chase. Quickly moving orbs of darkness had an invisible quarry on the run. Branches snapped, underbrush crackled, but Elder Vlad remained stead-fast and patient, watching them drive his prey directly to him. She would tire soon; she was no immortal . . . just very, very old and strong.
The moment the animal scent came within a yard of him, he cast out a thunderous black charge from his gnarled, hook-like fingers. A blue-black spider’s web of dark energy spread across the ground, and a feral growl, then female shriek, sent bats and owls into an aerial frenzy. His sentries immediately stopped their pursuit and touched down in the damp mud, their black leather trench coats billowing on an unnatural wind behind them and their boots displacing fertile soil. They all watched dispassionately as the invisible entity that had been snared slowly lost power and had to reveal itself.
“Such a beauty and such a waste,” Elder Vlad said with a slight taunt in his voice as he walked forward and watched the gorgeous entity thrash against his black-charged netting. Her unstable image flickered, finally showing glimpses of a pristine white coat that was mottled with velvety black spots. The pattern on her fur was so carefully created that he reached out his fingers to touch it, and then laughed as she yanked away and tried to savage his hand. “I am not your enemy, Empress,” he cooed.
Panting and clearly winded, the snow leopard became still. Her face was distended by saber tooth–length fangs, but it slowly began to normalize as she stared at the ancient Vampire.
“Lady Jung Suk, why didn’t you come to us first?” Elder Vlad asked, and then tapped a hooked nail against his thin lips. “I don’t understand why you would put your fate in the hands of the Unseelie Fae—not even a main political player, at that?”
Her image continued to phase in and out in a pulsing throb, allowing her captors to witness the partial metamorphosis that had left her body in leopard form and ready for attack, but made her face an eerie combination of woman and beast.
“Kiagehul promised me that he was in alliance with the Vampires through the baron,” she said, breathing hard.
Elder Vlad shook his head. “That was indeed unfortunate.”
“Only Vampires can grant immortality,” she said, slumping and no longer fighting against the black charge. “I knew that.”
“And an entity of your age didn’t know to even fact-check such a claim?” Elder Vlad smiled. “Come, come, milady, let us not toy with each other.”
“He got me out of the country,” she said, clutching the black charge in desperation but quickly letting it go with a painful wail. “Then he took me to see the baron—there were discussions that led me to believe that Kiagehul could pull this off, and Geoff promised that if he did, he would pick out a young body and—”
“Enough,” Elder Vlad said, holding up his hand. With a wave of his palm he dropped the black-charged barrier, causing Lady Jung Suk to fall to the ground. He held out his hand to her and she looked at it for a moment, clearly afraid, as his sentries surrounded her. But the old Vampire stood his ground. “Have you decided what type of body you’d prefer?”
Lady Jung Suk slowly placed a clawed paw in his hand. “I cannot shift back . . . I am a disembodied. I am trapped,” she said quietly.
“I know. And if I bring you a young, nubile body to inhabit, then you will be indebted to me . . . say . . . forever?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. Elder Vlad snapped his fingers and two of his sentries instantly disappeared, moving the underbrush with their invisible velocity.
“I am sure as an ancient sorceress you are able to perform the spell. Should we provide you with the proper resources?”
“Yes,” she murmured and then stared into the elderly Vampire’s eyes with an unblinking gaze.
“My apologies for any part our representative may have played in misleading you. Baron Geoff Montague was not authorized to enter into a negotiation of that nature—one that had vast political implications.” Elder Vlad released a weary sigh. “However, we do have great use for someone with your dark arts talent, as well as your obvious fighting capacity as a Were Leopard. Perhaps as a royal assassin . . .”
Lady Jung Suk bowed. “My apologies for not more thoroughly investigating the scenario presented to me . . . my eagerness led to the blunder. But I am at your complete disposal . . . for the generosity of your amnesty.”
Elder Vlad offered her a sinister smile and then graciously kissed the back of her hand. The sound of a struggle and a muffled scream made the entire retinue in the swamp turn to stare at the source of the disturbance.
A young girl held in a vise-like grip twisted against one of the Vampire guard’s hold while the other gestured toward her with a toothy smirk as though imitating Vanna White.
“You approve?” Elder Vlad said, leaving Lady Jung Suk’s side to closely study the terrified Asian co-ed. “She seems to be no more than twenty years young,” he said, deeply inhaling near the young woman’s throat. “We thought that you might want to stay with that which is familiar, but you can change ethnicity, if you’d like . . . we can bring you a blonde, or—”
“She’s exquisite,” Lady Jung Suk breathed out, walking closer. “Drain her, but not to the point of death. I need to pattern over her soul with the spell just as she expires so that I can be a strong conjuring source for you. This is the advantage of the covens—they have souls that can be sold or bartered to the Ultimate Darkness . . . I am of minimal use as a sorceress without one.”
Another muffled scream was caught into the sentry’s hand. Elder Vlad simply laughed as he looked at the traumatized girl.
“Oh, do uncover her mouth . . . the sc
reaming is the best part.”
CHAPTER 1
NORAD . . . Denver, Colorado
It was surreal, really. Captain Sasha Trudeau stood at attention in the war room with her gaze focused on a point on the wall. She was two thousand feet below the surface of the earth again and surrounded in a granite-encapsulated city. There were no shadows within this fluorescent hell to escape into. Twenty-five-ton steel doors had closed behind her and her team. This was just another one of the military’s citadels, but today it felt like a prison.
Now she understood what Doc had meant: A political schmooze trip on Air Force One to meet the president and the first lady had nothing to do with what was about to go down. The military was, in essence, its own government and its own country. It didn’t matter if a civilian president was the commander in chief, there would always be things known by the Pentagon and the military intelligence community that flew under the radar. This meeting was obviously one of them.
What the president knew and understood was so far removed from the tactical realities of what the Joint Chiefs had cooked up that Sasha felt numb. The new president had been excited to talk to her, curious, and awed by the knowledge that the supernatural existed. They’d met at his insistence. His wife had warmly embraced her, and Sasha had vowed to never wash the shirt that had the first lady’s elegant touch on it. Never in Sasha’s life had she been so proud to serve as in that moment when she was told “job well done” by two people who seemed to have it all . . . intelligence, honor, love for each other, their children, and their country. They were world leaders in her opinion, had respect for other nations, and yet kept it all together as a couple and a family despite the stress that went along with that leadership. Simply being in their presence had instilled hope. Maybe she and Hunter could have that, she’d thought for all of two days . . . until now.
She hated these sessions. Sasha’s mind had latched on to the positive, clinging to it in military silence as her entire mission was lambasted as a complete failure. Talking heads on the video teleconference made her swallow a snarl. She hated VTCs. Old bastards. What did they know about this kind of war? The Cold War didn’t have jack on a confrontation with the supernatural, if the Unseelie or Vampires decided to retaliate.