Kimberly Raye - Cody

Something bad.

Something really bad.

He started forward, but a faint whimper stalled him in his tracks.

He whirled toward the house and blinked against the burning smoke and heat. Sparks flew and the right corner of the house caved in. He hauled his collar up and over his mouth and pushed through the fog. His eyes burned and watered as he drank in his surroundings. The sound slid into his ears again and drew him toward the left and the familiar pink dress visible just beneath the porch steps.

He was on the woman in a heartbeat, pulling her away from the fast crumbling house.

Sis Braddock’s eyes were closed, her face covered with soot. Blood pumped from the deep gash across the side of her neck and soaked her dress. So much blood.

“Ma,” Cody breathed and the woman’s eyelids flickered open.

“I—I tried to stop him,” she gurgled. Her fingers tightened on the iron brand clutched in her grip. Blood caked the familiar B and sucker-punched Cody right in his gut. “But…h-he started…fire.” A line of red spurted from the corner of her mouth and pain twisted her features. “I—I couldn’t…get to…them.”

“Where’s Rose and Michael?”

But he already knew. Deep in his gut, he knew even before she croaked out the one word.

“Dead.” She shuddered. Her chest jerked as she tried to breathe. The blood gushed faster. “You came back,” she managed, the words soft and gurgled. “I knew you would. I knew…”

Because she’d believed in him when no one else had. When he’d been five years old and old Mister Arnold had accused him of stealing a pig. When he’d been twelve and Pastor Willard had blamed him for the missing hymnals.

She’d been wrong on both counts, just as she’d been wrong about his father. She’d always believed Lyle would change his mind and come back. That he would straighten up and come home.

“My boy…” Her body shuddered. The brand slipped from her hands and clattered to the ground.

“I’m here, Ma. I’m here. ” He shook her, but it was too late. Her body was limp. Lifeless. “No!”

Anger and denial whirled around Cody, twining around him and squeezing tight until he couldn’t breathe. He grabbed the brand and staggered to his feet.

“I tried to stop him.”

Her desperate words echoed in his head, driving him around, toward the barn and the chaos and him.

It hadn’t been Indians. He would have heard the war cries and seen the evidence. This was different.

Evil.

Fire crackled. Wood crumbled. Sparks spewed. Cody didn’t care. He headed straight for hell, determined to take whoever was responsible with him.

He made it three steps before the back of his skull exploded with pain and his knees buckled.

He hit the dirt facedown, the brand clutched in his hand. A man’s voice slid into his ears.

“You shouldn’t have come back. You don’t belong here anymore.”

But he did.

This was his home.

His family.

His.

And he wasn’t letting go of it without a fight.

He clutched the brand tighter and then everything went black.

Texas, Present Day

HE HADN’T HAD SEX IN forty-eight hours.

While two days of deprivation was nothing for most men, Cody Braddock wasn’t the average guy. He was a hell-raising, adrenaline-loving, nine-time Professional Bull Riders champion—known to the world as Cody “Balls to the Wall” Boyd—just weeks away from record-breaking buckle number ten.

He was also a vampire who fed off of blood and sex.

Cody was desperate for both as he walked into the crowded Sixth Street bar in the heart of Austin, Texas.

A Nickelback song blasted from the loudspeakers and vibrated the walls. A splatter of colored lights bounced off the sea of writhing bodies that filled the small dance floor. The air reeked of beer and stale cigarette smoke.

It was the kind of place people came to drown their troubles and forget. A bad day. A cheating spouse. An arrogant boss. A stack of unpaid bills.

A little liquid courage, a lot of sex, and all would be right with the world. Or so they thought.

He read that much in their gazes, and what he couldn’t see when he made direct eye contact, he felt.

Lust and desperation swirled into a nearly irresistible aphrodisiac that filled his nostrils and lured him deeper inside the club. Body heat pushed and pulled at him from every angle. Dozens of heartbeats mingled together in a steady ba-bom ba-bom that echoed in his head and throbbed through his body. A strange awareness crawled up his spine and he glanced to the right.

His gaze collided with a pair of deep, unreadable brown eyes and he quickly realized he wasn’t the only one looking for a little action tonight.

He didn’t know the guy’s name or anything about him. He only knew that the young gun wasn’t human and that he’d come to feed. A long time ago, Cody would have been surprised at running into another vampire. They’d been few and far between back when Cody had been turned.

But now…

There were more. They existed side-by-side with humans, feeding on them when the need arose and tossing them when they were finished. They were the ultimate predators. Alluring. Persuasive. Powerful. Invincible. Deadly. The moral barometer had slipped away right along with the humanity. Forgotten like a bad day.

For most.

But Cody refused to forget.

He still remembered the last beat of his heart. The last draw of breath. The last flutter of life. The memories haunted him, driving him almost as fiercely as the hunger. To find the vampire who’d slaughtered his family that fateful night and destroy him once and for all.

Cody still had several miles to go before he reached his destination—a small town north of San Antonio, Texas. But he was a hell of a lot closer than he’d been when he’d first seen the copy of Motorcycle Mania featuring the trio behind Skull Creek Choppers, the fastest growing custom motorcycle manufacturer in the south.

One glance at the picture and he’d been pulled back to the moment when his life had changed forever. When he’d changed. In a fiery blaze, he’d lost everything that mattered to him—his mother, his sister-in-law, his nephew, his brothers, his home.

Not that Brent, Travis and Colton were dead like the others. His brothers had suffered a fate far worse than a mortal death—they’d been turned just as Cody had. They lived in isolation now, feeding off blood and sex, doomed to an eternity of hunger. One eaten up by guilt, one driven by anger, one so indifferent he didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything.

And Garret Sawyer, the creative genius behind SCC, was the vampire responsible.

Cody could still remember the pain in his skull, the blackness. When he’d regained consciousness, it had been Sawyer who’d loomed over him, his fangs bared, his face and clothes covered in soot and blood. He’d held a knife in his hand.

The same knife he’d used to kill Cody’s mother.

Cody’s oldest brother Colton had seen Sawyer, as well. The same face. The blood. The knife.

It was Sawyer, all right. It had to be.

And Cody intended to make him pay for what he’d done. Maybe then the what-ifs would stop once and for all.

What if he hadn’t left his brothers to head for town?

What if he’d ridden in a minute sooner?

What if he’d been there?

Cody forced aside the endless questions and concentrated on the task at hand—feeding and gathering his strength.

He shifted his attention back to the younger vampire. He gave a quick nod. The vamp replied in kind before turning back to the woman next to him. He smiled and the brunette practically swooned. A split second later, he steered her toward the rear exit.