Blood Diamond
by RJ Blain
Paranormal Suspense / Urban Fantasy / Supernatural
Thriller / Light Paranormal Romance
Date Published: June 25, 2015
The
world is full of corpses, and Jackson knows them by name. When a group strives
to destroy the Inquisition, his powers may be all standing between the
supernaturals and extinction.
However,
when he learns the truth behind the deaths of his wife and unborn daughter,
Jackson may prove to be the greatest threat of all to the survival of
mankind...
The world was full of corpses, and I, Dante
Jackson Emmett Anderson, knew them by name. Unfortunately for me, my brother
knew my secret.
When my brother asked for help, it usually
involved unidentified bodies or paperwork. When he had showed up at my door, I
hadn’t expected an invitation to join an Inquisition field operation, one
dangerous enough to warrant the use of my brother’s armored truck. He had me
dead to rights when he told me I’d be driving, and judging by the way he had
smirked while spinning the keys around his finger, he had known it.
I doubted the red-painted, tempting seductress
of a monstrosity could be eliminated by anything other than a missile or a
tank; even if someone wanted to blast their way in, they’d need a ladder to
reach the door. I wasn’t small, not at six foot three, and I needed the help of
the step rail and roll bar to climb in. The rest of the team needed me to give
them a hand.
I drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. I
should have refused my twin and ignored the lure of driving his absurd, stupid
truck. I should have told him I would do a stint at the Inquisition
headquarters shuffling papers and naming dead people instead of pretending I
was trained for field operations.
Drumming my hands against the leather wheel,
probably the only normal thing in the truck, I waited. The manila envelope on
the dashboard mocked me, reflecting in the windshield as I watched the
darkening forest for any signs of the team’s return. Once I opened it, I’d know
more about the operation and its Inquisitors than I wanted. I’d know the names
and faces of the dead, and if my bad luck held, I’d get a glimpse of their
final moments.
The dead were
vindictive like that.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead on my
hands. My brother had been in enough of a hurry to get me into his truck and on
the road I hadn’t had time to change out of my suit. Combat boots, fatigues,
and Kevlar protected the Inquisitors. I wore a silk dress shirt and an equally
thin jacket a bullet would ignore before tearing a hole through me.
Clenching my teeth, I bumped my forehead against
the wheel as I cursed my idiocy.
A smart man would’ve put the idling engine into
gear and left. If I did that, I’d be the target of my very own Inquisition
operation. I doubted even the Red Beast could withstand a pack of angry Fenerec
armed with more firepower than the military. They had missiles, and I had
supplied all six warheads to them. If they launched one at the truck, they’d
blow it—and me—into scrap metal and unidentifiable bits.
RJ
Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a
terrible tendency to pun without warning.
When
she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e
painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband, and obeys the commands of
Tsu Dhi, the great warrior fish.
In
her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her
contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and
quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.
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