This one is for everyone doing their best during the Coronavirus pandemic of 2020. A special thank you to medical personnel, first responders, sanitation workers, shipping workers, truckers, grocery store and assembly line workers, volunteers, and everyone else who’s risking their health working right now while everyone else is self-isolating. A special dedication also to all the teachers working remotely with their students and trying to stay in contact and keep those kids connected, learning, and loved.

Acknowledgments

Acknowledgments

Thank you to the readers who have jumped into this new era of the Realm vampires. I have many wonderful people to thank for getting this book to readers, and I sincerely apologize to anyone I’ve forgotten.

Thank you to Big Tone, Gabe, and Karlina: for their love, support, for making my life better every day;

Thank you to my fantastic editor, Alicia Condon, as well as everyone at Kensington publishing: Alexandra Nicolajsen, Steven Zacharius, Adam Zacharius, Vida Engstrand, Jane Nutter, Lauren Jernigan, Elizabeth Trout, Samantha McVeigh, Lynn Cully, Kimberly Richardson, Arthur Maisel, Renee Rocco, Rebecca Cremonese, Alex Gendler;

Thank you to my wonderful agent, Caitlin Blasdell, and to Liza Dawson and the entire Liza Dawson Agency;

Thank you to Jillian Stein for the absolutely fantastic work and for being such a great friend. Thank you to Debra Stewart from Dragonfly Ink for the excellent proofreading edits;

Thanks to my fantastic street team, Rebecca’s Rebels, and to their creative and hard-working leaders, Anissa Beatty and Margarita Coale.

Thanks also to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Don West, Jessica and Jonah Namson, Kathy and Herb Zanetti, and Liz and Steve Berry;

Finally, thank you to the readers who have kept the Dark Protectors alive all of these years. It’s because of you that we decided to return to the world of the Realm.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The vampire was late.

Grace Cooper twirled the straw in her half-finished ginger whiskey and tried to ignore the skunk smell wafting through the bar. Rather, the smell of pot, which two kids were smoking in the back corner by the lone pool table, seemingly uncaring that recreational use of marijuana was illegal in bars in Colorado. None of the few folks ambitiously drinking in the place paid them any heed.

She discreetly wiped snow off her jeans from her tumble in the snow right outside the door. Her wrist ached, and she tried to ignore the pain. How bad was the injury? Not that she had time to find a doctor, anyway.