By Barb Hendee, J. C. Hendee
She hunts the realm's most deadly game.
Her charges are exorbitant.
She's worthy each coin she receives.
Or is she?
Magiere has earned a name because the such a lot bold vampire slayer within the land. Villagers all over the place welcome her with either awe and disdain—grateful to her for ridding their cities of the undead threat, yet discovering themselves made poorer for his or her salvation. Magiere is familiar with she's facing easy people, who simply desire to have their superstitions silenced, and sees not anything unsuitable with exploiting them for profit.
Now, bored with the sport, Magiere and her accomplice, the half-elf Leesil, are able to hold up their guns and cool down in a spot they could ultimately name domestic. yet their newfound peace won't last—for Magiere has come to the eye of a trio of strong and hazardous vampires who be aware of her actual identity—and worry the birthright that flows via her veins. and they're going to cease at not anything to maintain Magiere from pleasing her future.
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Additional resources for Dhampir (The Noble Dead, Book 1)
He unrolled the letter and read every word, but it didn’t tell him anything he hadn’t already surmised. It was only a letter to Malachi. Apparently Ephraim had wanted the butcher to be prepared in the event of his death, but in the end it proved too little, too late. Now both lay dead, and Theron had his answers. He dropped the paper onto Ephraim’s headless torso and went to the back of the house to find a shovel. He would need to bury the bodies so they would not be found, at least not before he completed his business in Jerusalem.
The humans? " Theron nodded. "Blast," Herris' face hardened. "How many, Theron? ” “I don’t know, Headcouncil. I executed Ephraim, as ordered. I didn’t interrogate him. The human who came to his room spoke of others. A man named Paul was to drive Ephraim to Lydda in safety. ” “And you didn’t investigate? ” This from Mattawe. Always quick to anger, that one. “Begging the Council’s pardon, but dawn was approaching. ” “Yes, Theron. That was the proper thing to do,” Herris said, fixing Mattawe with a glare, all but daring him to argue.
Algor’s misshapen features eased. “The Romans do not think much of him at all, actually. They have their own gods, and as long as the taxes in Judea are collected they are content to let the people of Israel have their God, as well. But the Jews are another story. Many love him, as I said, but many of them also fear and distrust him; they claim he is a charlatan out to steal their money or property. ” Mattawe said, “Even among his own people he’s an outcast. ” “Of course not! Our secret has been breached, but—” “Then why are we arguing?