By Adrian Phoenix

HIS identify IS DANTE.

darkish. gifted. appealing. megastar of the rock band Inferno. Rumored proprietor of the recent New Orleans nightspot membership Hell. Born of the Blood, then damaged via an evil past mind's eye.

HIS earlier IS A MYSTERY.

F.B.I. exact Agent Heather Wallace has been monitoring a sadistic serial assassin referred to as the go state Killer, and the path has led her to New Orleans, membership Hell, and Dante. however the dangerously appealing musician not just resists her research, he claims to be "nightkind": in different phrases, a vampire. Digging into his earlier for solutions finds little. A juvenile checklist a mile lengthy. No social safety quantity. No recognized start date. out and in of foster houses for many of his lifestyles sooner than being taken in through a guy named Lucien DeNoir, who appears to be like to protect mysteries of his personal.

HIS destiny IS CHAOS.

What Heather does learn about Dante is that something hyperlinks him to the killer -- and she's lovely definite that hyperlink makes him the CCK's subsequent goal. Heather needs to get to the bottom of the reality approximately this sensual, advanced, weak younger guy -- who, she starts off to think, may perhaps certainly be a vampire -- on the way to ultimately convey a killer to justice. yet Dante's earlier holds a stunning, risky mystery, and as soon as it's published now not even Heather could be capable of defend him from his destiny....

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Extra resources for A Rush of Wings: Book One of The Maker's Song

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The world whirled even faster. His vision darkened. Hands patted him down — De Noir’s, he thought. Fingers plucked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nah, nah. Didn’t find ’em all. ” De Noir rumbled. “Depends on the journalist,” Dante said. The cheese-grating-world-spinning-nausea-lurching-head-aching suddenly torqued. E spun off the world into a starless void. 11 A Breathing Connection LUCIEN DUMPED THE UNCONSCIOUS assistant onto the sofa in the front room. A huge purple and blue lump had knotted up on the man’s forehead.

A serial killer is in New Orleans, Agent Wallace,” Adams said. “You knew it. ” Weariness swept through Heather. “I apologize. ” “Tell her that,” Adams said, nodding at the body bank. He crossed the tile floor, then stepped out into the hall, the door swinging shut behind him. Heather stood alone in the morgue, surrounded by the voice-less dead. She touched a hand to the cold metal door. Pictured Gina beneath the sheet. com) her. Heather’s throat tightened. True. Everything. But once she nailed this bastard, Gina would have one last opportunity to speak.

He answered, his voice also low and indistinct, then opened a cupboard and pulled down a black mug. As he poured coffee into it, Heather leaned forward against the table, speaking to him in an urgent but level voice. Dante set the coffeepot back on its hot plate, then stood still, his head cocked as though listening. ” Proof that she was, indeed, thinking of him; a fact that would normally slather a sloppy grin across his face. But not this time. E ducked down from the window, plastering himself against the house.

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