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Vampire Sire (Vampire for Hire Book 15), page 1


Vampire Sire (Vampire for Hire Book 15)

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Vampire Sire (Vampire for Hire Book 15)


  Vampire for Hire #15



  (Red Rider: Part 1)

  Other Books by J.R. Rain


  Winter Wind

  Bound By Blood

  Silent Echo

  The Body Departed

  The Grail Quest

  Elvis Has Not Left the Building

  The Lost Ark

  The Journey (with Piers Anthony)

  The Worm Returns (with Piers Anthony)

  Lavabull (with Piers Anthony)

  Jack and the Giants (with Piers Anthony)

  Dolfin Tayle (with Piers Anthony)

  Dragon Assassin (with Piers Anthony)

  Glimmer (with Eve Paludan)

  Lost Eden (with Elizabeth Basque)

  Judas Silver (with Elizabeth Basque)

  The Vampire Club (with Scott Nicholson)

  Cursed (with Scott Nicholson)

  The Black Fang Betrayal (with multiple authors)


  Moon Dance

  Vampire Moon

  American Vampire

  Moon Child

  Christmas Moon (novella)

  Vampire Dawn

  Vampire Games

  Moon Island

  Moon River

  Vampire Sun

  Moon Dragon

  Moon Shadow

  Vampire Fire

  Midnight Moon

  Moon Angel


  Moon Bayou (with Rod Kierkegaard)

  Blood Moon (with Matthew S. Cox)


  with Matthew S. Cox

  New Moon Rising

  Moon Mourning


  Vampire Alley (poem)

  Moon Dance (Deluxe Edition)

  Moon Extras: Bonus Scenes



  Vampire Nights

  Vampire Blues

  Vampire Dreams

  Halloween Moon

  Vampire Gold

  Blue Moon

  Dark Side of the Moon

  Vampire Requiem

  Moon Love


  Dark Horse

  The Mummy Case

  Hail Mary

  Clean Slate

  Easy Rider (short story)


  The Witch and the Gentleman

  The Witch and the Englishman

  The Witch and the Huntsman (with Rod Kierkegaard)


  with A.K. Alexander

  Hear No Evil

  See No Evil

  Speak No Evil


  with Chanel Smith

  Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Shakespeare

  Sherlock Holmes and the Lost Da Vinci

  Sherlock Holmes and the Werewolf of West End


  with Aiden James

  Temple of the Jaguar

  Treasure of the Deep

  Pyramid of the Gods


  with Rod Kierkegaard

  The Dead Detective

  Deadbeat Dad


  with Kris Carey

  The Accidental Superheroine

  My Big Fat Accidental Superheroine Wedding


  with Matthew S. Cox

  The Devil’s Eye

  The Drifting Gloom


  with Matthew S. Cox




  with H.P. Mallory

  Ice Wolf


  with Randy Keys

  The Spear


  with Matthew S. Cox

  Silver Light


  The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo

  The Vampire Who Played Dead

  The Vampire in the Iron Mask

  The Vampire on the Train (short story)


  with Piers Anthony

  Aladdin Relighted

  Aladdin Sins Bad

  Aladdin and the Flying Dutchman


  with Elizabeth Basque

  Zombie Patrol

  Zombie Rage

  Zombie Mountain


  with Scott Nicholson and H.T. Night

  Bad Blood

  Spider Web

  Spider Bite


  Vampire Road

  Skeleton Jim

  The Bleeder

  Vampire Rain

  The Santa Call


  Moonlight & Monsters: Ten Vampire Tales

  The Sands of Time

  Dark Rain: Stories

  Blood Rain: Stories

  Black Rain: Stories

  Red Rain: Over Forty Bestselling Stories



  For Young Readers


  The Emerald River

  The Angel and the Gift

  Forever Silent

  Spirit Mountain (with Alexandra Swan)


  Deep Sea Danger

  The Legend of Eagle Eye Mountain

  Playoff Pressure


  The Mystery of the Walking Statue

  The Secret of Stonehead Island (with Randy Keys)


  The Secret of the Sphinx


  Dare to Enter a Distant World


  with Randy Keys

  The Enchantress

  Vampire Sire

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2018 by J.R. Rain

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


  To Diwamani. He laughs a lot, reads my books, and sports a robust beard. Everything I look for in a friend.


  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Reading Samples

  About the Author

  Vampire Sire

  Chapter One

  I was folding laundry and watching Judge Judy when I came across Anthony’s latest masterpiece.

  At first glance, it looked like any other pair of tighty-whities. Upon second glance, it was obvious there was something v
ery, very wrong here. For instance, that wasn’t a shadow I was seeing.

  Nope, just nope.

  Nope, nope, nope.

  I had fought wolf men, demons and even the devil himself, but none gave me more pause than the rolled-up abomination tucked in the far corner of the laundry basket.

  “Lord, give me strength,” I said, wondering idly if my prayers fell on deaf ears. And if they did, well, screw it. I’d answer my own damn prayers.

  Truth be told, while loading from washer to dryer, I suspected there had been something amiss: a strange, dark swath seen in my peripheral vision. But I ignored it, hoping like crazy that what I was seeing had been my imagination. That maybe, just maybe, my washer was haunted by a shadow man.

  But there was no denying this.

  This was epic. This made me question my parenting skills. Obviously, something, somewhere had gone off the rails somewhere. A disconnect. Somehow, the proper use of toilet paper must have fallen on deaf ears... or through the butt cracks.

  I sighed, said another prayer... and reached for That Which Should Not Exist.

  But it did. And it was in my laundry basket.

  “Lord, help me.”


  Judge Judy was on point, as usual.

  Her ability to size up someone was uncanny. In fact, it was positively supernatural. At present, some punk was trying to convince her that he wasn’t stoned, and that he wasn’t responsible for a loan his friend had given him. Except, of course, he kept laughing, and talked way too much, and his eyelids might have been mostly closed... or made of lead. Judge Judy even cracked a smile, which always makes me smile. In the end, the stoner lost but didn’t seem to care that he lost—in his exit interview, he asked where the closest Taco Bell was.

  With Anthony’s underwear now in the “burn” pile, and Judge Judy just signing off, a car pulled up outside my house, a car I had been expecting. Through the mostly closed window shades, I watched the driver try to figure out the angles of the cul-de-sac curb, then watched as she gave up and basically parked with her car’s ass sticking way out into the cul-de-sac. Then I watched her get out, straighten her skirt, brush back her hair, and head up the driveway toward the gate in the chain-link fence. It’s a short gate, but she fumbled with it a few times, pushed it the wrong way, then pulled it the right way, then stepped through. She collected herself again, took a deep breath or two, and headed along the short path to my front door.

  I pulled it open before she could knock. “Lauren Skinner?” I asked.

  “Samantha Moon?”

  “Boy, we’re good at this game,” I said. “Come in.”

  She did and I showed her to my back office with its bookcase and sliding glass door. Little did she know that an angel had once appeared to me here, or that ghosts sometimes materialized in the very same chair where she was now sitting. Or that a vampire was sitting across from her now. Or that, just a few months ago, I’d killed the devil himself. No, I’m not crazy. At least, I don’t think I am.

  “Cute office,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “You work from home?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “As a private eye?”

  I nodded. “And an international woman of mystery.”

  She laughed sharply at that. “I’m not even sure what that means.”

  “It’s from a Mike Myers movie.”

  “I see.”

  “You never saw it.”

  “No.” Pause. “I told you who I work for on the phone, correct?”

  “A probate attorney.”

  She nodded. “Michael Lansky, to be exact.”

  Of course, the moment she had mentioned the name over the phone, I had researched the man and confirmed he was legit enough to at least meet with her, his assistant.

  “Are you an attorney, too?” I asked.

  “Not quite. I am his lead researcher... or fact-gatherer.”

  She handed me a card: Alaine Juni, Researcher

  “In essence, I unofficially act as the executrix for our distinguished clients.”

  “Distinguished in what way? And is that the feminine for executor?”

  “Yes. And as far as what way, we will get to that, Ms. Moon, I promise. I’m not trying to be coy, but I do need some information first.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I liked her, so I was willing to wait. Interestingly, although I could read her mind, it was... well, impenetrable. In fact, a song was looping in the foreground of her thoughts, a song that I found nearly impossible to push through. I probably could if I tried hard enough, but I didn’t want to or need to. At least not now, not with the promise of more information later. I studied her again and saw her aura plain enough. A sure indicator that she was definitely mortal.

  “About six years ago, our client was killed. He left behind a very large estate.”

  “And you are telling me this, why?”

  “Because you are named in his will.”

  I mentally went back in time six years. Not a good time in my life, admittedly. Danny had just left me. I had found myself living in a hotel. Of course, during that time period, I had also flown for the first time, too. What else had happened six years ago? Hmm. I plumbed my memory. I might have superhuman strength and teleport around the world—and even off-world—but I didn’t have a super memory. Let’s see. Well, I had been shot by Rand the vampire hunter six years ago. I had met Kingsley six years ago, too. Oh, and I had met Sherbet six years ago. I drummed my fingers, my nails clacking away, thinking hard. I had been given the first of a series of medallions six years ago. The ruby medallion, in fact. A medallion worn by my attacker. An attacker who had been killed by the same hunter who had shot me. Lots was going on, six years ago.

  “Go on,” I said.

  “You never formally met my client, but you did, in fact, meet.”

  We were talking about my attacker. I was sure of it. So I said nothing, reliving those terrible few minutes on a trail at Hillcrest Park in Fullerton, a few minutes that would forever—and I mean forever—change my life.

  I felt my jaw clenching. “Go on.”

  “Like I said, you never formally met him, but he knew of you. In fact, he knew a great deal about you.”

  My mostly dormant heart kicked in, and I could feel it thudding dully in my chest. Sometimes, I wondered if the whole purpose of my heart was to help me gauge my emotions. Well, it was beating now, and for good reasons. A very scary time in my life was playing out in my head, from my attack on the trail, to waking up in the hospital, to the confusion that followed. So. Much. Confusion.

  “What’s his name?” I heard myself ask.

  “Jeffcock Letholdus.”

  I said nothing. Not at first. Then I asked her to repeat it, and she did. I asked her to repeat it again. She did, again.

  “You are saying Jeffcock, correct?” I asked.

  “I am, yes.”

  “And that’s a name people give their actual kids?”

  “Not so much now, no. But in the Middle Ages, yes.”

  “The Middle Ages?”

  “Yes, Ms. Moon.”

  I drummed my nails on my desk and caught Alaine watching me drum my nails. I nearly snatched my hands away and hid them in my lap, as was my custom. Instead, I left them there—along with my ghoulishly misshapen nails. Hands someone would see on, say, a horror poster. Hands and nails and fingers of something that might snatch one’s ankles from under the bed. The sort of claws that left deep and bloody furrows in their victims. These weren’t nice hands, and these certainly weren’t nice nails.

  Still, I drummed them slowly, noting again the thickness and sharpness of the nails. And maybe for the first time, I also noticed their purpose: to strike fear in the hearts of man. Except the woman before me—the woman with the looping song in her thoughts—wasn’t afraid. No, not at all.

  “I think we both know to whom we are referring, Ms. Moon,” she finally said, her gaze sliding up from the desktop and de
ep enough into my eyes that I wondered if she also saw the flames that existed therein. I had it on good authority that such flames represented Elizabeth herself, the dark master who possessed me. “And I think we both know what he did to you twelve years ago.”

  “And what did he do to me twelve years ago?” I asked.

  For some reason, I wanted to hear it from her. No, I needed to hear it from her. Hearing it from her would be the confirmation I needed that the events on that fateful night so long ago were, in fact, real. That I hadn’t made them up, or filled in the gaps. That, in fact, they had happened as I remembered them happening. Not that I ever questioned my own version of the story, but all I’d had was my memory... and that was it. My memory, and the resulting aftereffects, of course. Never before had anyone corroborated my version. Indeed, who could? Just me... and my attacker. And now, amazingly, this woman. This stranger.

  There went my heart again, beat-beat-beating in my chest.

  “You were attacked twelve years ago, Sam. You were attacked ruthlessly, deliberately, and with reckless abandon. You were left to die, but you wouldn’t die, of course. You would do the exact opposite. Live forever. Twelve years ago, my client—now deceased—rendered you into a vampire, and your life has never been the same since.”

  Chapter Two

  “No one likes a know-it-all,” I said.

  “I don’t know it all, Ms. Moon. But I know enough.”

  “Since when do vampires make wills and retain attorneys?” I asked. I felt oddly deflated. This wasn’t the closure I’d been looking for. No, not by a long shot.

  “Many do, Sam. May I call you Sam?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “My employer is sympathetic, shall we say, to the undead.”

  “Your employer is a vampire?” I asked.


  I nodded. For some reason, The Hairy Ones seemed to gravitate toward the practice of law.

  “My employer helps those like you navigate the world of mortals. After all, special care must be considered if one is immortal... or close to it. Not all immortals run through graveyards and aimlessly stalk city streets at night. Like you, some have families. Many own extensive properties. And many fake their deaths to properly bequeath such estates to those they love or care about. As you know—and someday will discover firsthand—supernaturals such as yourself will outlive loved ones and friends. Sometimes, they will outlive governments and whole countries. An astute attorney can help a vampire or were creature start over again.”

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