The Nightwatchers: Greenwood, Book 1

Genres: Paranormal; Occult & Supernatural; Action & Adventure; Gothic; Mystery

Synopsis

From Book 1:

Sean Reilly never asked to be a vampire.
All he wanted to do was go home, to his beloved Ireland.
But war got in the way.

When he's mortally wounded and turned during World War II, he uses his new, preternatural abilities to fight evil.
He does so as a member of a unique and secretive crime fighting organization: The Nightwatchers.

Sean's oath to never mix business with pleasure takes a hit after he changes a dying, Los Angeles police officer named Morgan Grady.

Like most humans, Morgan never considered vampires might actually exist. Not until she's shot and left for dead, and awakens as an immortal. She has only two choices - join The Nightwatchers organization and work with Sean, or be forever hunted by creatures of the night.

When Sean and Morgan are confronted by a very old and powerful entity - an ancient vampire who is bent on destroying the entire organization - they must find some way to fight as a team. They must face not only their foes, but the terrifying possibility that they were meant to be together forever.

What lurks in the darkness might not be as fearful as one individual bent on total destruction. It takes a unique mindset to hunt those who would terrorize the world. Do members of The Nightwatchers have what it takes?

Rating: Limited sexual scenes, 90% action-adventure
Book 1 of a series

Release date: June 26, 2020

Publisher: Candace Sams

Print pages: 185

Content advisory: Some sexual content. Rated PG. Content heavy with Action/Adventure Romantic Elements

Sample

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Los Angeles, California

 

 

Morgan Grady heard the siren and her partner’s voice as he told her help was coming, but she instinctively knew there was nothing to be done. As if in a dream, she heard the ambulance crew approach and the lead paramedic giving orders. The next thing she remembered was a line of white, overhead lights racing by as the emergency room staff hurriedly wheeled her down the hospital hallway and into the first available trauma room.

She was frightened even though the pain was gone, and her mind seemed to be disconnecting from her body. Someone yelled for a crash cart, and she heard a nurse calling out diminishing blood pressure numbers. She didn’t want to die, but multiple gunshot wounds were difficult to treat. It would take a while for the doctors to determine which wound needed to be treated first, and she felt there wasn’t much time left. Someone told someone else to ready her for immediate surgery, then she heard nothing more. Everything went dark.

After a time, somewhere in the darkness a familiar voice called.

“Morgan, darlin’…it’s Uncle Patrick. Please wake up, angel.”

At her beloved uncle’s urgent request, Morgan forced her eyes open, and the pain almost overwhelmed her. Something must have alerted Patrick because she saw him stand, go to the door and plead for help.

“Please, my niece is awake, and I think she’s in pain. Please…come!”

Morgan watched a white uniform speed into the room, though she couldn’t see her attendant’s face. Whatever they did to the IV dripping into her left arm, it only took the edge off the pain, but it was better than suffering the brunt of it.

“She’ll need more than this, but I’ll have to speak with a doctor,” the nurse advised.

The woman left and Morgan’s vision began to falter, even though the painkiller had been in her system for just a few moments. “U-Uncle Pat?” she croaked.

“I’m here, darlin’. Hush now. It’s goin’ to be all right. I won’t let anything happen to my girl.”

Morgan tried to smile. Patrick Grady, her beloved uncle and only living relation, was always the same. He always saw the good side to everything, even though, in this case, there was no hope. She knew it deep inside. Facing her own fear, she desperately wanted to calm her uncle but didn’t know how. His expression was a canvas of shocked relief mixed with dark foreboding. Still, it was so good to hear the soft, lilting Irish accent one more time. “When did you get here?” she whispered.

“I’ve been here for hours, love. Your supervisor called me, and I came right away. There are dozens of police officers outside, in the hallway.” He put out his hand and gently touched her forehead. “You came through surgery right as rain. Everything is going to be all right now. You’ll see.”

He was lying. If the pain in her body hadn’t given the fact away, his expression surely did. She lifted her right hand to try and touch his handsome face. At fifty-eight years of age, Patrick was one of the finest looking men she knew. He’d always been a hero to her, and she didn’t want to be the source of pain for him now. Even though her intent was to show courage, she was more frightened than she’d ever been. When she felt his warm grasp around her hand, it momentarily helped her rally.

“Now listen, Morgan dear. You just rest. Don’t try to talk or worry over anything. Your Uncle Pat is going to take care of you.”

Despite her initial need to calm him, she couldn’t hold back any longer. Her fear finally spilled over. “I-I’m afraid,” she stuttered. “What’s on the other side, Uncle Pat? What will it be like?” Despite her best efforts to seem brave, Morgan’s soul lurched. She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t ready. At twenty-nine, she’d only started experiencing the big picture of life. Even her Catholic upbringing didn’t calm her doubts as to what lay beyond.

“Hush now.” Pat lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I won’t leave you. And you’re not going anywhere. I told you I’d take care of it and I will.”

“I-I’m such a c-coward,” she blathered and tried not to cry.

“You’re no such damned thing! Cowards don’t do what you do. And I won’t hear another word on the subject. Are you listening?”

She swallowed and attempted to nod. “You won’t go?”

“You know I won’t, angel. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

She gripped his hand as hard as she could. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything you want, my girl. Anything.”

“Will you light a candle for me?”

“You’ll be lighting your own candles…you’ll see.”

“I love you, Uncle Pat.”

“I love you, too, my sweet, sweet, darlin’.” He paused and sat on the edge of the bed. “Now, I want you to listen to me…I’m going to tell you a story.”

She smiled though tears blurred her vision. “Like the ones when I was little? About Ireland?”

Patrick gripped her hand with both of his. “This one is a little different. But you have to listen very carefully, all right?”

Morgan stared into his dark eyes and nodded.

“Now…a long time ago, there were some people with special powers. They were unusual people, not like you or me. And they could actually change into animals. They could turn themselves into bats and wolves, and they lived by night.”

“Like vampires?” Morgan asked. The pain medication was winding through her system now, but she wanted to hear Patrick’s story. She fought the meds and clung to every word he uttered.

“Try to stay awake just a little while longer, Morgan. You’ve got to hear this.”

Morgan opened her eyes wider and felt him grip her hand with force.

Patrick continued with the story. “These men and women were good. Not evil as they’re depicted in the movies. In fact…they were so righteous they tried to help right some of the wrongs in the world.”

“Like police?” Morgan murmured and tried to fight off drowsiness.

“Aye, like the police…but they’ve existed for a very long time. And they live all around us now. They’re still trying to ferret out those vermin in the world who would strike terror into the hearts of humankind. They’re with us still,” Patrick claimed.

She realized he was trying to tell her anything to take her mind off the inevitable. Just the sound of his low Irish brogue made her feel a little better. But only a little.

“What if you could be like them, Morgan? What if one could walk right into this room right now and undo all the harm done to you? Wouldn’t that be something, my girl?”

Morgan tried to smile. “Yeah, Uncle Pat. That would be something.”

“You could finally go see the old country and…and be good as new.”

Morgan began to cry in earnest. “Please hold me, Uncle Pat.”

Patrick leaned forward and carefully wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t you cry now, darling. They’ll come for you. My friends from Night Watch will come. It’s a secret agency…where real vampires exist.”

Something in her brain began to confuse legends he’d told her as a child with what he was telling her now. Nothing made sense. “Will I really get to see Ireland?”

“I swear, Morgan, you’ll see and do things you’ve never imagined. You just leave it to me. But you have to want to live. You have to fight a little while longer. Can you do that?” He pushed the operating room bonnet from her head and stroked her hair.

“I’ll try. But I don’t—” Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt the air leave her lungs. The room began to circle, and she experienced light-headed illusions. It was as though her soul was leaving her body. She actually began to float up and felt the remnants of pain drift away.

“Nurse!” Pat yelled.

From high above, detached and unconcerned, Morgan watched medical personnel run into her room. They had equipment she knew was meant to save her life. A bright light began to glow behind her, and she turned toward it. Somehow, she didn’t want to go there. She resisted. Not yet. I’ve got things to do.

***

Sean Reilly, formerly known by the surname Murphy, impatiently waited for the sun to go down so he could open the airplane door. As the last moments of daylight slipped away, he shoved the hatch forward and noted the stairway was in place for his descent. He could have easily leapt to the ground, but that would certainly have caused unwanted attention from nearby ground crews. He knew Danielle had already gone ahead, and the situation should have been like a dozen others he’d encountered. This time…something wasn’t right. He could feel it down to the last drop of his cold blood.

“You’ll have to hurry, sir. Our people have her isolated in a wing now, and the doctors have been told we’re on urgent government business. Our own doctor is present so civilian personnel will cooperate. But she’s in a bad way. They don’t think she’ll make it through the night,” the pilot warned.

Sean nodded at the man and glanced at the waiting limo. “Get the plane refueled and ready to take off as soon as possible, Thomas. I don’t want to stick around any longer than I have to.” It wasn’t as if he needed to give the order. Thomas knew his job. But he just wanted to press the point; that he disliked his present surroundings.

“Problem sir?”

“You know me and cities,” Sean replied and slanted a grin at the pilot.

“Yes sir. I’ll have everything ready, including the blood. There’ll be enough for two.”

“Good.” Sean turned toward the ramp but paused and addressed Thomas once more. “Any word from Patrick?”

“I only know he met Danielle earlier in the day. They were supposed to pick up some clothing at the woman’s apartment, then meet you at the hospital.”

Sean nodded, descended the ramp, and strode to the limousine. Once inside, he used his cell phone and dialed Danielle’s number. When there was no answer, his sense of insecurity grew. Danielle always stayed in touch. Of course, this situation was different from any they’d encountered before. Naturally, Dani would want to have some time alone with Patrick, but their newest member of the organization awaited her fate. The fact that it was Patrick’s niece did make a difference, however. It must have been very difficult for the older man to watch his only living relative drift so close to death, and realize she’d be joining the ranks of The Nightwatchers before the sun came up again.

It was almost nine o’clock before he arrived at the large Los Angeles hospital. It looked like hundreds of others he’d seen so he ignored anything humans had done to make it appear less like a place where the sick, injured, and dying were transported. All he cared about was that procedure was followed, no one at the hospital got in the way, and that the woman was removed immediately once she was pronounced dead. He would take her back to Dublin and train her just enough to let someone take over the task. Then his assignments could take precedence. He was only engaging this underling’s job for Patrick’s sake. The man had asked for him personally. Because of their long-standing friendship, he felt obligated to accept. No matter how he tried to shake off the feeling, something about the entire situation still didn’t feel right. He wanted the chore over with as soon as possible.

Walking down the hospital hall, he noted familiar American human members of the organization standing guard. One of them motioned to him and opened the door to a room where a Nightwatchers physician stood by. The doctor and several other agency operatives surrounded a bed where his initiate lay. The equipment keeping her alive was still attached to her body.

“Where is her uncle?” Sean asked as he glanced around the room and saw neither Patrick nor Danielle were there yet. He couldn’t sense their presence near the room, and it seemed strange that Patrick wouldn’t be present when the doctor shut off the life support, and his niece was changed into a creature of the night.

“Pat is on his way,” the doctor responded as he looked up from his patient’s chart. “But I don’t think we can wait. Her vital signs have been slipping at an alarming rate. You have to do this before she actually dies.”

Sean was perfectly aware of this fact. But Patrick and Danielle had more than ample time to have collected what little the woman would need and get to the hospital. Their absence wasn’t right―especially Danielle’s. Any time a woman was initiated, a female member of the organization was always present. He preferred it to be someone he trusted.

He walked forward and stared at the woman on the bed. A surgical cap still covered her head. An IV dripped fluid into the vein of her left arm. Half a dozen of other pieces of equipment hummed in the background, but he knew none of them could save her life. “How many bullets did she take?”

“Five,” the doctor responded. “We had to take her back into surgery yesterday. I don’t mind telling you she’s a mess inside. God only knows what kept her alive this long. Since Patrick wanted you, we’ve done the best we could to keep her going until you arrived.”

Sean leaned closer to the figure lying before him. He’d been briefed on all the specifics, but nothing prepared him for the perfect beauty on the bed. She was too pale but stunning all the same. “She’s a fighter. I can sense it.” He shook his head in remorse. “It’s a bloody damned shame a good police officer ends up like this!”

“Her department has been told the same story we gave the hospital staff…that this is a matter of national security; we’re members of the CIA, and they’re to stay away. Everyone with an interest in the case will be told she was cremated. No one will know anything about us transporting the body to the airport. Our people will be covering all the entrances and exits. Security tapes here and along the route to the airport will be discarded.”

Sean glanced at the doctor and nodded. This was routine, the way these things were usually handled. But it was recited anyhow as procedure required. He placed one hand on the woman’s cheek. According to what he’d been told, she was only twenty-nine, and Pat had been training her for induction into the organization as a human operative. Sadly, she was shot down before the initiation could take place.

Her record was outstanding. Had it been more difficult for some drug dealer to get his hands on an assault weapon, the woman might have enjoyed a long, productive life. Things being what they were, the same attention she gave to her work would make her a good operative for the organization. If she’d been conscious, he would have asked her some questions and introduced himself. The drugs the doctors had induced let her rest peacefully. Without them, damage from the bullets would have inflicted untold agony. He recalled his own entrance into the world of the undead. Their inductions were sadly similar.

He glanced at the clock. “I’ll wait for Patrick as long as I can. I need to get more information from him…personal information about her life. I don’t like to just change someone without knowing something other than what the forms require.”

The doctor opened his mouth to respond, but whatever the man might have said was forever lost. An alarm on a monitor went off and a flurry of activity began. Sean backed away so the doctors could get to their patient. He glanced at the door again. Instinct told him there was no time left. He had to take her now…or let her die.

“We can’t wait,” the doctor abruptly confirmed.

Sean pushed through the personnel. “Get this equipment off her. She won’t need it anymore.” He waited for the staff to unhook all the life support paraphernalia, then turned to them. “Get out unless you want to watch. This is my show from here on.”

“Hurry,” the doctor quickly advised, “she won’t last long.”

Sean riveted his eyes on the pale woman while the attending physician and agency staff left the room. “I’m sorry your uncle isn’t here,” he whispered. Then he sat on the side of the bed, quickly turned her face away, and exposed her neck. The visible pulse in her carotid artery was already slowing. He leaned forward, opened his mouth, and his incisors extended. When he sank them into her tender flesh, she softly cried out and lurched upward. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her slender body steady.

He then disengaged and repeated the same contact twice more. On the third bite, he heard the breath leave her body and knew life for her would never be the same.

As expected, her body remained still as he gently took some surgical gauze and wiped blood droplets off her neck. The surgical cap had slipped from her head, and long, light brown hair surrounded her exquisite face. It draped over the pillow as if blown there by a breeze. He paused a moment, then gently stroked a soft strand of it away from her cheek.

By this time tomorrow, her friends and colleagues would all believe she was dead. For her, a whole new life was about to begin; one where she might do more good than in her former occupation as a Los Angeles police officer. She was being given a rare chance. Perhaps, after his initial training, their paths would cross again. This would certainly suit him. She was one of those women others referred to as a classic beauty. Her toned body, high cheekbones, and full lips tempted him. The woman’s utter helplessness stimulated protective instincts invoked by his having changed her.

He quickly tamped down these sensual threads of emotion and focused on the business at hand. Waiting for the handling and delivery sequence to unfold was always tedious.

He knew Danielle would show up with a few of the woman’s belongings, and that his initiate’s body would be placed in an appropriate container. It would then be escorted to the plane at the same time as he was being driven back to the airport. After the changing body was placed in the plane’s passenger compartment, they’d fly to Dublin. He’d be required to offer initial training, but then the woman would be handed over to recruitment personnel. These events wouldn’t take long. They’d been carefully orchestrated to maintain the organization’s secrecy and to quell any objections presented by various governmental agencies.

He crossed his arms over his chest and knew it would only be a matter of hours before she’d wake. He recalled his own awakening and remembered how strange everything had seemed. The man who had changed him had long since retired, but the bloke been a good instructor. The training then had been hastily conducted because of the war. His tutor’s presence was necessary behind enemy lines. Much of what he had learned, therefore, was on the run. At least this woman would have a protracted induction time.

“Morgan. The name suits you,” Sean softly murmured as he stared down at the death-like figure. ”I wish Patrick could have been here for you, but no matter. I’m sure he’ll come soon.” Even as he said the words, Sean sensed commotion outside the door. He stood just as Patrick Grady entered the room.

“Is she…is it done?” Patrick choked out as he half-stumbled toward the bed.

Sean slowly nodded and forgave Pat for not offering a greeting. The older man was clearly concerned for his niece. When the door opened again and Danielle quietly entered the room, however, the look on his assistant’s face immediately alerted him. “What is it, Dani?”

“I’ll let Patrick explain,” she murmured.

Sean hadn’t seen Patrick in many years. Even though the one-time field agent had aged gracefully since his retirement, it was still a shock to see how much older Pat actually was. This was the one thing Sean never got used to―watching the human members of The Nightwatchers age while he stayed thirty-five forever. “What’s Danielle talking about, Patrick? What’s there to explain?”

“I…I’m sorry, Sean,” Patrick began, “I should have gotten here sooner. Danielle wanted me to, but I knew you’d figure out the truth if you started asking questions. So…I stayed away until it was over.”

“What truth, Patrick? What are you trying to tell me?” He walked toward the older man, and the creeping sense of foreboding he’d felt after landing at the airport became full-fledged fear.

Patrick took a deep breath before speaking “She…Morgan didn’t accept being inducted. She never agreed to any of this.”

A vampire’s blood normally ran cold. But never had Sean’s run icier. He grabbed the older man’s shirt and roughly pulled him forward. “What? What the hell are you telling me?”

“When the doctors said she wouldn’t make it, I told Morgan about vampires. That was after her first surgery and when she was coherent enough to listen. Of course, she thought I was filling her h-head with nonsense…that I was just trying to keep her mind off the p-pain. I’m sure she didn’t believe a word I said, but I knew s-she’d die if not for you. And I…I couldn’t let that happen!” Patrick shakily asserted. “She’s all I’ve got. And even if I never see her again, at least I’ll know she’s not dead. Her only chance was to let the organization think she was willing to be recruited. I knew she fit the profile so I called in the initiation. You were the vampire I wanted for this,” he finished.

“Are you insane? Do you know what could happen to you for violating procedure? And me for helping you?” Sean’s grasp on the older man’s shirt never loosened. He shook him to make his point.

Danielle moved quickly forward and pulled at Sean’s arm. “Let him go, Sean. I can swear you never knew Morgan didn’t agree to this. I didn’t know, either. Patrick doesn’t care what you do to him as long as Morgan is safe. That was the whole point. What’s done is done. We have to get Morgan on the plane before she awakens. We can deal with all this later.”

“Damn you, Patrick!” Sean glanced at the body lying on the bed. “Despite Danielle’s assurances to the contrary, my ass is on the line. When your niece wakes up as a vampire, she might take exception to it. Maybe she’ll even want revenge,” he raged and then continued to vent. “The easiest way for her to get it is to tell the people in charge we’ve taken her without permission. The organization won’t care about excuses. They’ll want to know why I didn’t verify your recruitment…why I blindly trusted a man I thought was a friend. And they’ll want to know why we endangered the other operatives and the entire organization,” he shook the older man harder. “Now, maybe you don’t give a damn what happens as long as your precious niece survives, but I don’t relish the idea of being staked out on a hill while the sun comes up. And did you even consider what would happen to Danielle?” he asserted. “As my assistant, she could also be held responsible. You know the damned rules, Patrick! Nobody gets changed unless they’re willing and unless they understand the consequences and the commitment to the organization.”

Patrick gripped Sean’s shoulders. “Trust me, old friend. I know my niece. She will accept her place in The Nightwatchers. If you’re half the man you ever were, you can convince her this is for the best,” he vowed. “Morgan was a good cop. I’m damned certain she didn’t want to end up a corpse…she’ll come around. And you’ll have one of the best agents the organization has ever known. You’ve seen her file.”

“We can hash this out later,” Danielle insisted. “Let’s get Morgan on the plane and off to Ireland.”

“Dani, this crazy man has just doomed his own niece to an eternal life she might not want. And he may have just gutted us as well.” Sean ran one hand through his hair, then clenched the same hand in anxiety.

“I happen to believe him, Sean. Patrick should know his own niece. She’ll accept this when she knows her life would have been over otherwise. Now…everyone calm down and let’s get back on schedule,” Dani quietly reasoned. “I’m going to call Thomas and tell him we’re coming. I’ll get the container crew in here and have them remove Morgan. Then I’ll help escort her body to make sure everything goes as planned. Patrick will stay in Los Angeles and see that our cover stories stay solid.”

Sean stared at her. “Dani, you’re covering for him because you two are in love. You’ve both let your objectivity go straight to hell.”

Danielle glared at her supervisor. “That’s a space we’ll all be sharing if you don’t convince Morgan she’s better off than rotting in a grave!”

“May the Holy Mother damn the both of you!”

Sean turned his back on them and ran a hand over his face. He paced while the two older people went about the business of carting Morgan’s seemingly lifeless body out of the hospital. Only when he had his rage and thoughts under control did he leave the room and make his way to a waiting limousine.

***

“Thomas is ready for takeoff,” Dani informed Sean. “Are there any instructions?”

Sean took off his long, black duster and threw it over one of the cabin chairs. “No. At least Thomas is one member of my team who knows how to follow procedure.” He turned around and stared pointedly at Danielle.

“Don’t be so petulant! We can’t undo this,” Dani remarked.

“Where is she?”

Danielle glanced behind her, toward the regally appointed bedroom that happened to be Sean’s private resting place.

“You and Thomas put her in my bed?” he blurted.

“Well, she couldn’t very well wake up in the coffin we loaded her into at the hospital, could she? It would scare the bloody hell out of her.”

Sean snorted. “If she’d been properly instructed, she’d know where she was and what was happening. Thanks to her uncle, she’ll wake up on an airplane with a stranger hovering over her…en route to another bloody country.”

Danielle clasped her hands together. “Would you rather I handle this? I don’t see you being tactful in your present mood.”

Sean lifted one hand and shook his head. “No. Stay in your section of the plane until I call you. Since my ass is in a sling over this, I’ll take it from here.”

Danielle sighed, waved one hand in a frustrated gesture, and walked toward the front of the airplane.

“I’ll leave your cabin sealed unless you signal. Obviously, we’ll have to stop and refuel, but Thomas has made sure everything you need is within reach. Morgan’s suitcases are beside the bed. I’m sure that having some of her belongings will make all this less intimidating.”

Sean tilted his head and watched Dani walk away.

If his assistant thought that having a few niceties from Morgan’s old life was going to diminish what they’d done, then Dani wasn’t thinking rationally. Just as Patrick Grady hadn’t been when he lied to the entire organization about this event.

“God and Mary help us,” he groused, then took a deep breath and walked toward his bedroom. He paused when he saw Morgan lying on the bed, as still and pale as a piece of Irish china. Her color would come back when she drank some of the blood stored in the small bedroom refrigerator. At least someone, presumably Danielle, had taken the awful hospital gown off her and dressed her in a soft burgundy-colored robe.

He sat on the side of the bed and slid his hand beneath Morgan’s neck, and noticed her left hand lifted slightly. That was a sign that she’d soon awaken. When he got up to pour blood in two wine glasses, he heard her moan.

He immediately placed the glasses on the small nightstand and sat beside her. He watched her eyelids slowly open and swallowed hard when he gazed down into the most shockingly deep green eyes he’d ever seen. Even vampirism couldn’t have induced the striking color.

***

Morgan blinked and tried to focus, but nothing seemed right. She heard what she took to be the sound of an engine and felt movement. When her vision finally began to clear, she barely made out the figure of a man sitting next to her.

He leaned closer.

“Don’t try to talk just yet. Take your time.”

She stared as his features filtered in and out of focus and noted how the deep timbre of his voice still resonated around her. After a while, her vision adjusted, and she saw his face quite clearly.

She was momentarily stupefied into silence.

The man, whoever he was, was simply gorgeous. His beatific countenance…was exactly how she expected an angel might appear. He had a strong square jaw, full lips, and deep blue eyes. Although his tan didn’t particularly set him into some angelic category, neither did a day’s worth of facial stubble. Strangely, he had long dark hair which fell over his shoulders in thick  waves. If he wasn’t an angel, what kind of doctor had long hair and didn’t keep it pulled back? Where was his white coat? Or was she really dead and indeed being attended by some heavenly host?

“It’s all right, Morgan. Everything will be okay.”

“Wh-Who are you?” she whispered.

“I’m a friend of Patrick’s. My name is Sean Reilly. I suppose you’ve figured out we’re not in the hospital.”

She turned her head to look around, but the surrounding walls and furnishings began to melt dizzily into each other. She lifted one hand as if doing so could steady her vision. “If I’m not in a hospital, then where am I?”

“You’re on a private jet, headed for Ireland.”

 “So it’s true?” she whispered. “People of Irish descent really do go back to the old country when they die? And angels escort them there.” She blinked, tried to analyze her own silly thoughts, and then caught a glimpse of her angel smiling. When she tried to rise, he put one arm around her shoulders, helped her into a sitting position, and arranged the pillows behind her.

“I must have missed a day of catechism. Nobody said anything about jets to Ireland when you die,” Morgan ridiculously uttered, then recalled his lilting accent. She gazed at him for a long moment before the seriousness of the situation sank in. “I was dying.”

Sean met her gaze and nodded. “You were. Do you remember what happened?”

“I…I was shot. I could feel the bullets…a frickin’ drug bust went wrong.” She pushed her hair back and tried to think. “I remember being in the hospital. Uncle Pat came and I remember being taken to the operating room.”

“That was four days ago. You had to have another operation because they couldn’t stop the bleeding,” Sean explained. “Do you recall what Patrick said?”

Morgan nodded. “He held my hand and told me some crazy story to take my mind off…I was scared as hell,” she softly admitted, then wrapped her arms around her torso.

***

As they had before, Sean’s protective instincts kicked in. None of this was her fault. All she’d done was her job. And it had gotten her killed―as medical science defined the term. No matter what his feelings were over the sad ending, this was business. He’d learned long ago to separate personal emotions from his job.

“You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you, and the bullet wounds are healing. All that’s over. You’ll be able to see your uncle again when he’s finished taking care of some business in Los Angeles. It might not be for a few months, though.”

Morgan licked her dry lips. “I…I should be dead. There was no way I could have survived what happened. I remember what the paramedics said to the doctors. And what the doctors said right before they wheeled me into the operating room. I’m sure they didn’t know I could hear them but I could.”

Sean silently cursed the idiots who spoke around anyone who was injured and in shock. He remembered being carried into the makeshift Army hospital, full of bullets. The medics there had said the same things as he lay bleeding to death. They, too, thought he couldn’t hear them and their carelessness made him feel like a piece of meat. He’d been as frightened then as Morgan was now; he actually saw her begin to shake. Again he recalled circumstances leading up to both of them becoming vampires were remarkably similar―although that was another lifetime and he was a different man now with a new identity. Morgan’s battlefield had been the streets of Los Angeles, and her enemy had been some animal trying to sell drugs. Yet, their fight to rid the world of savages was the same.

When he placed one hand on her shoulder, the woman leaned toward him. Even now he sensed her vampiric instincts were growing. Still, he noted very human emotions in her expression. Fear, disbelief, and absolute shock were all there.

He remembered those same feelings flowing through him, and he wanted to pull her closer and comfort her in an old fashioned, chivalrous way. Recognizing the bond brought on by his having changed her, he fought the desire and got back to the subject.

“Listen to me, Morgan. You said you remembered Patrick speaking to you. Can you tell me anything he said?”

“He kept telling me some stupid story. It was to take my mind off the pain and I knew it,” she admitted with a shrug. “I think he must have seen how much I was hurting and I wasn’t talking rationally. I cried like a baby. It was like my intestines were being twisted and pulled in five different directions. My uncle was probably scared shitless and would have said anything.”

He silently cursed not having questioned Patrick before being called to Los Angeles. Now, he took the proverbial bull by the horns and got down to showing his initiate she was no longer human. “Morgan, I want you to look at your wounds.”

“What?”

He put his fingers under her chin. “Look at the bullet wounds in your body.” He gently spread her arms, stood, and turned around so she could do as he asked with some degree of privacy. When he heard her gasp and utter a curse, Sean slowly turned around and saw her blankly staring into space. She was now standing and her hands were gripping the fabric of her robe; she’d pulled it around her in a cocoon-like fashion. “Your uncle said you wanted to be part of our organization. He told me you’d been informed about us.” He carefully continued. “Hours ago, you took your last breath as a human. Patrick wanted to save you any way he could.” He saw her slowly focus back on him.

“What’s happened to me?” she whispered.

He took a deep breath, stood squarely in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her face. “You’re a vampire…like me.”

She backed away from him. “This isn’t real. I’m not dead…and I am not a vampire! I’m still breathing. I’m taking air into my lungs.”

“That’s an autonomic response we never lose. For us, it just isn’t necessary. It’s a mechanism that evolved thousands of years ago, so that humans around us see us breathing. It’s a little like chameleons changing colors so they can survive,” Sean said as he tried to get her to accept the situation and calm down. The absolute horrified look in her eyes was one of the most poignant things he’d ever witnessed. He now understood the reason for the rules. No one should come to this way of life without knowing what would happen first.

“In the bathroom, there’s a mirror. It’s only there for my assistant’s benefit. I don’t need it. Go take a look.”

Morgan stumbled toward the small room. When she threw open the door and saw nothing in the mirror, her legs folded. He moved forward to catch her before she hit the floor. She wouldn’t have been hurt if she had, but he still acted out of instinct. Having nowhere else to put her, he deposited her on the bed again.

For a time, he waited for her response and tried to figure out their next move. “I’ll let you talk to your uncle if it’ll make you feel better.”

Morgan nodded.

Sean retrieved a cell phone from a cabinet. To make sure only Patrick was contacted, he dialed the memorized number for her. He then handed her the phone when it made the connection.

To give her some distance, he walked into the next room but not so far that he couldn’t quickly intervene if she attempted another call.

In this instance, he reasoned that allowing Morgan to make her short contact hardly mattered considering the breach of operating procedure Patrick had already engaged.

Normally, it was a serious violation to phone any operative, human or vampire, in the field. Doing so could compromise their wellbeing. Though Morgan’s uncle was technically retired, he could be considered on duty and in the field in this instance. Patrick had called in this initiation because policy permitted him latitude in doing so. But his actions made him responsible for tying up loose ends in Los Angeles.

Procedure stated agents could only use cell phones or the internet in dire emergencies, or to report in when they safely could. Even then, the conversations were brief and coded. It was feared the theft or misplacement of such devices and any information therein, could cause the agency a lot of trouble. Strict adherence to the rules governing their use was mandatory. Again, he could see no harm in allowing Morgan her phone time. This was a minor indiscretion compared to Patrick’s actions. If the call would help calm Morgan, then so be it.

While in the main cabin and still a cautious few feet from where Morgan conversed with her uncle, he poured himself a glass of blood from the bar. That was when he remembered Morgan hadn’t had any. She would need it soon and he was pretty sure the offer wasn’t going to make the situation any better.

He’d finished his third drink and was rinsing out his glass when she walked into the larger cabin area which also served as his office.

Morgan handed the phone back to him.

He decided to slide it into a dump bin connected to the next cabin. Dani would retrieve it and keep it with her gear. If Morgan noted the extra bit of security, she said nothing. In fact, she seemed a bit confused or distracted.

“My uncle told me that he couldn’t talk on the phone about…certain things. He said not to call him again, and I should get you to explain,” she absently relayed.

Sean rolled his eyes, sighed, and sat down in a nearby chair. It was a bit too late for Patrick to start following the rules. So, he would be stuck with answering Morgan’s questions. “Ask anything you like.”

She wrapped her robe tighter around her body and spoke slowly. “Let’s start over, okay?” Then she paced for a moment before saying, “I don’t remember a lot of what my uncle told me. It sounded like a load of crap!”

Sean waved a hand at the upholstered seat opposite him. When she sat down, he started with the most logical explanation―the truth. “The name of our organization is The Nightwatchers. It was secretly formed hundreds of years ago, as a way for conscionable vampires to co-exist with mankind. We use our powers to ferret out certain criminal elements that the law in most countries can’t touch. In this day and age, you might call us the world’s largest and most elite anti-terrorist unit.”

He waited for some response, but she only stared back—apparently waiting for him to continue. The actual history of the organization was more complicated, but he’d settle for what she might currently accept and leave the specifics for another time.

“Support for what we do comes from some eighty countries,” he explained, “but only necessary government officials know who we are and what we do. Human and vampire operatives handle everything from field ops to surveillance and more. As with the majority of humans,” he relayed, “not even most vampires know the agency exists. Those chosen to join us swear an oath to keep the organization secret. As I’ve implied, only those with a need to know are briefed. We’re as far above any governmental law enforcement agencies as the sky is above the ocean floor.” Once again, he waited for a response and finally got one.

“Conscionable vampires, huh?”

“That’s right. We’re not all the blood-sucking monsters Hollywood depicts. No more than humans are all war-mongering, horrifying sociopaths. Most of us have a need to live in a peaceful world. We try to make that happen.”

She watched him closely, as if she was trying to decide whether he was crazy or she was.

“I never knew my uncle had anything to do with this…Nightwatchers…group. He told me he sold agricultural equipment.”

Sean shrugged. “That’s as good a cover as any. It would explain why he traveled, especially to parts of the world where his presence might otherwise be questioned. After all, every country on the planet is engaged in agricultural pursuits.”

“I guess it was why he was never around before my parents died.”

Sean leaned back and tried to relax. As long as she could talk coherently, they could find a solution to this predicament. In fact, she was taking things much better than he’d anticipated. “Pat officially retired from the organization when your parents were killed…an airplane crash wasn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Since he was your only relation, he was allowed to leave us to see to your upbringing; but only as long as he checked in regularly.”

“You seem to know a lot about my history. But then I guess you would if you’re some kind of covert agent.”

He was more than just an agent, but his exact position could be explained later. “Your uncle advised us that he’d begun a recruitment process with you. It normally starts as a scenario where the recruit is given a series of hypothetical questions about their political beliefs and their opinions regarding law enforcement. Those eventually chosen to undergo recruitment have proven themselves trustworthy and are loyal to certain causes. Suffice it to say, we’ve never approached anyone we didn’t believe would eventually join us,” he explained and then paused to let his words sink in before continuing. “The individuals we employ are people who crave this lifestyle. They desire a sense of purpose and fulfillment that comes with serving democracy. They’re freedom lovers. It might take time for the process to culminate in the recruit being hired but, as I said, we don’t approach those with beliefs other than our own. To do so wouldn’t be prudent, as I’m sure you understand.”

Morgan nodded. “My Uncle Pat has all those qualities. I often wondered why he never became a cop.”

“He was in our organization for almost twenty years when he left to take care of you. And he never violated any procedure…until now,” Sean added. “He let us believe he was in the process of recruiting you and that you were agreeable to following our regulations as a human member of the organization. When you were shot and dying, Pat asked for me to initiate you into vampirism. He said you agreed to this, knowing what would be expected of you.”

She leaned forward. “How much trouble is he in? And don’t screw with me either!”

Straight from the hip. Sean had to give her points for knowing that what Patrick had done could have very serious consequences. “Let’s just say no one has ever done what he has. If our supervisors find out you never agreed to this and that you weren’t ever properly briefed and recruited as your uncle claimed, I don’t hold much chance for his survival.”

“You’d kill him? Just like that?” she angrily asked.

Sean noted the outrage in her voice but it couldn’t be helped. “What do you think a member of your country’s CIA would do with an operative who compromised the safety of his fellow agents? A great many people went to huge expense to falsify documents and evolve a cover story to get you on this jet. All it would take to unravel everything is if you returned to Los Angeles, not only alive but completely healthy.”

“How did you get me out of the hospital and bypass a required autopsy? Somebody has to be asking questions,” she demanded.

Sean slowly shook his head. “As in most major cities of the world, our people work in very high-ranking, necessary positions. For example, there was a doctor at your hospital who’s a member of Nightwatchers. He and others are on our payroll even though they only respond to directives when needed. You can see how beneficial this would be if one of our human agents needed medical help and we didn’t want questions asked. But just like many of them don’t know who I am, I don’t know all of them by name. Sharing identities would compromise our collective safety. The less we all know, the less we can say if forced to answer questions. It’s very much like you going undercover and not letting the entire police force know you’re doing so. Understand?”

She swallowed hard. “The kind of cooperative effort you’re talking about would be massive. Are you saying you literally walked into a hospital several days after I was shot and commandeered everything? Newspaper reporters would want to know about the shooting. The medical examiner would want my autopsy for evidence in a trial. There would be judges, lawyers, politicians, and police officials to deal with. Not to mention friends who’d be asking questions. I don’t understand how you could just take me and get away with it.”

“I understand you were involved in an undercover operation when you were shot.”

“Yeah…so?”

“All we had to do was plant a story that you were secretly working for a much bigger, more covert agency. We might even let the local authorities infer it was the CIA. It’s probably being said your pursuit of drug dealers was directly related to terrorist group funding. Drug money does fund terrorists, after all. And when the story is couched that way, all kinds of officials would bend over backwards to make sure we got any help we needed. And there are very important people at the top levels of your government, who would make sure no one got in our way.” He paused. ”As for the autopsy and all the rest, the paperwork will be filed, and the authorities will be told we’re handling the case from here on. Your friends will be told your body was cremated. There’ll be a nice memorial service, and you’ll be perceived as another statistic in an on-going war against terrorism.”

“You said we’re headed to Ireland. Why?”

“You have to go somewhere where you can lay low. Since Patrick got me into this, I see no reason to take you anyplace but back with me. For now, Ireland is my center of operation and I need to resume duties.” He finally saw where her solicitous and extraordinary acceptance of the situation was leading. The woman had been questioning him in an effort to find out what she really thought was happening. Her growing anger was now revealing her caginess.

“Listen…ace,” she addressed him caustically, “I’m not a…a ‘statistic’ as you put it. And what the hell makes you think I’d join?”

Sean raised one brow. “You’d better consider it. It would solve a lot of problems.”

“Why should I? I mean, why bother asking? No one has so far,” she retorted.

He held his misgivings at bay and tried to stay on her rational, less angry side. “I’m sorry for my part in this, Morgan. Your uncle wasn’t at the hospital when I got there, or I’d have probably seen right through his deception. Though it happens, it isn’t easy for a human to lie to one of us. Our senses, as you’ll soon discover, are usually keener than any mortal’s. But I still take responsibility for not checking out Pat’s story. I trusted him. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I would never have believed him capable of a shenanigan like this. But the result is that he saved you from the grave and gave you a chance at continuing a useful, fulfilling existence.”

“I’d have liked to have made the decision myself,” she angrily insisted. “He could have done exactly as you’ve explained. He could have approached me as a recruit. Now…you say I’m a damned vampire without a clue as to what I’m doing.”

He leaned forward and stared into her green eyes. “You are a vampire,” he stated. “It shouldn’t have happened, but it’s done and can’t be changed. There’s no cure for it  that we know of. And maybe Pat actually meant to recruit you sooner or later; he didn’t have time to consider that course after you were shot. Though I shouldn’t be defending his actions, your uncle is only human. He panicked and did what he thought was best. Still, even if it was wrong, you were a police officer. A damned good one from all accounts,” Sean placated. “Why would you be willing to die for what you believe, and not want to live now for those same convictions? It makes no sense.”

He sensed her absolute frustration and saw both anger and fear in her face. She stood and turned away from him for a moment. When she turned back around, there was a determined look on her face, and he couldn’t help being drawn to the assertive flash in those striking green eyes.

“If I try this and don’t like it, can I leave?” she asked.

Sean stood and moved to within a foot of her. “Will you swear, on your life and that of your uncle’s, that you’ll never compromise this organization or its members?”

She nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

Sean believed her. For that particular moment in time, there was no deception in the way she said it or in her expression. “Then I’ll make arrangements for you to safely leave. Until then, you have to convince everyone we contact that you’re with me of your own free will.”

“And if I can’t?”

“If my superiors find out about this, your uncle just might become one of those people who mysteriously disappear off the face of the Earth,” Sean offered. “I can only imagine what will happen to you. Being shot to death might seem like a walk in the park compared to how a vampire is hunted down and destroyed.”

“Is that a threat?” She lifted her chin and stared straight into his eyes. “Is this the behavior of a so-called peace loving, democratic crime fighting organization?”

“Call it a warning. The same way the members of The Nightwatchers will bend over backwards to save one of their operatives in trouble, they’ll go after anyone who compromises the organization’s safety. Let’s not test the waters, shall we?”