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VAMPIRE, BITTEN
HOUSE OF THE CRESCENT MOON, BOOK THREE
REBECCA ETHINGTON
 C ome talk about sexy shifters with me !

We are online in my Facebook street team, in all of our wolf licking

glory.
TRIGGER WARNING

This book features scenes that could make some uncomfortable.

While all sexual relations within the book are given full consent by
both parties while they have full control of their minds and bodies,
and the extent of the ‘duress’ is explained later in the book, I
understand how some readers could experience a feeling of coercion
within some scenes and wanted to give full warning.

I apologize for the weird vagueness of this warning as I don’t want

to give away the twist, but I did not want to leave things unsaid
either.
 CONTENTS

1. Kat
2. Asher
3. Nova
4. Nova
5. Nova
6. Peyton
7. Nova
8. Asher
9. Nova
10. Asher
11. Nova
12. Nova
13. Peyton
14. Asher
15. Nova
16. Asher
17. Asher
18. Nova
19. Asher
20. Nova
21. Asher
22. Nova
23. Asher
24. Nova
25. Nova

Special Thanks From The Author

Also by Rebecca Ethington
About the Author
Newsletter Sign-Up
CHAPTER 1
KAT

T hat bitch had destroyed everything .

I should have known she would from the second I had sent the
first text, from the second we knew that the lonely girl that I had
found online was the one Greyson had been looking for.
From the second I had killed her father in that alleyway.
The old man had spent so long protecting her, but in the end it
was all pointless. She had given herself away in a message board
about shifters, asking too many pointed questions. She should have
known better.
I should have known better.
I should have realized what Greyson had planned, what she
really was to him. He talked about her enough, he longed for her
every night when we had lain together, every morning when he held
my naked body against his. It was an obsession, a dream, and one
that had taken away everything good in my life. I was supposed to
be his last mate. It should have ended with me.
But he had lied. Just like he always did.
My wolf growled at that, and I forced her to silence, the rage in
me building as I dragged myself through the forest. My body ached
and screamed through each step as I followed the putrid stench of
Nova and the wolves she had absconded with. Even from here it was
clear it wasn't that many; a dozen or two wolves, all babies.
They were fodder.
My bones and muscles ached with each step, my battered body
not even having a chance to heal from what they did to me. I hadn’t
had the time. Greyson had ordered me to finish them, and so I
would.
If anything, what they had done to me only gave me more
motivation. I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. Then he would
see how strong I was; and he would take me back.
My foot dragged as I stepped closer to the cabin, my vision
blurred and blood shot from my one remaining eye. I don't know
what they had thrown at me to make all of those vampires attack,
but she had destroyed everything. I would make her pay.
For this, for all of it.
I carefully set the box of blood down, the tightness in my chest
releasing as the scent began to lessen. I didn’t know what creature
it belonged to, but it scented like I was sure an addiction would.
Revoltingly wondrous.
"I'm serious. Did you drink his blood? I tried to get Peyton to
warn you--" Asher's voice hissed through the broken wall of the
cabin and I froze, the cumbersome box in my arms sloshing loudly. I
stiffened, sure they could hear, but there was nothing but Nova's
wolf, the low snarl of the beast trembling in the leaves. My own tried
to rise to her, but I pushed her down.
Silence you bitch!
I needed to deliver this, and get back to Greyson, report on what
I had done. I could do neither if I got caught.
"Is that bad? Is something going to happen?" Nova's voice was
garbled as I set down the box on the other side of the cabin, trying
to be careful even though the liquid contents was doing its best to
give me away.
"I-- I actually don't know." Some Alpha he was, Asher almost
sounded scared. I bit back my laugh, and placed the phone on top
of the box, already pulling out my own to send the text that I had
spent most of my run through the forest planning out.
"You don't know?" Nova laughed and I was once again left to bite
my cheek. I needed to get away from here before I gave myself
away. "Why are you freaking out then?"
"Because a witch told me that you shouldn't drink his blood."
I froze as Asher's panic hissed its way over to me. A witch.
 They were working with a witch. Nothing good ever came from
witches, nothing but deceit and bargains and broken hearts. Well,
and power and truth and victory. What they got would depend on
the witch and what they traded for the information. Given what they
were up against, having anything to do with a witch could tip the
scales in their favor.
I carefully stepped closer, well aware that I was really pushing
my luck now. But if they were working for a witch I needed to know
just how much trouble Greyson was in.
"Do you often believe witches?" Nova scoffed and I almost lost
my footing at the sudden snap in her voice. "Because that one
seems to think unicorns are real, and you seem to think I should
have sprouted another arm. But look. I still just have two."
Unicorns? I bit my tongue so hard to keep from laughing that I
drew blood. They found a witch that believes in unicorns. Didn’t
sound like much of a witch. I was a fool to think they could ever be
a threat. It sounded more like he had found himself a charlatan
trying to pass themselves off as the real deal.
Chewing on my tongue, I backed my way into the forest, already
typing out the last message I had planned to send.
"I don't know, Nova, she just said you could save everyone, but
only if you didn't drink his blood." I didn't know if it was the panic in
Asher's voice, or what he said that forced me to turn, but I was once
again staring at the back wall to the cabin. The light from within
beaming through the large cracks in the wall to spread over the
forest in lines of flickering yellow.
It was enough to give me away, but I really didn't care. The
witch had told her not to drink his blood, something that he had
explicitly refused to allow me to do on more than one occasion. It
was too much of a coincidence, and one I might have taken
seriously if they hadn't just talked about how that same witch
believed in unicorns.
"Ah, nice and vague," Nova scoffed, just as I shook my head,
both of us chuckling at the ridiculousness of it.
In another life, in another world, Nova and I might have been
friends, but now I wanted nothing more than to hurt her. Pain
spread over my cheek as I smiled, as all the still healing gashes and
bites from the vampires who had attacked me pulled awkwardly. I
would make her pay for everything.
Hitting send, I tucked my phone into the pouch at my waist and
took off into the forest, my body screaming in pain as I forced
myself into a shift. Bones cracked and shattered as skin that was
mangled and scarred ripped apart. I ignored the pain, ignored the
ache from the still healing leg Asher had broken during one of the
attacks in the forest. I ignored the way the forest blinked in shades
of red from my one good eye.
I just ran. I ran as fast as I could back to Greyson's estate. Back
to the vampire that should be mine. That was mine. I would make
him see that. Who else would do what I had done? Who else would
fight back against the wolves that had forsaken him. Not Nova. Nova
ran. I was still here.
My wolf chuffed in glee, the two of us daydreaming of the
reunion we would have with our mate as we ran. I saw the smile on
his face as he saw me, as he realized what I had done, as he saw
what I endured. He would smile as he took me in his arms and
kissed me as he used to, as the sharp bite of his teeth broke my
skin. It had been so long since he had drank from me, and still I
dreamed of it.
Before I knew it the tall peaks of the roof of the manor house
broke through the trees, the spires stretching further into the sky
the closer I got. It was the same house, the same ancient sky, but
everything about the manor had changed.
The vampires that were usually restricted to the underbelly of the
house were prowling through the trees. Hundreds of them wandered
through the shade that the forest provided. They watched me as I
ran, their fanged smiles like a twisted homecoming gift.
Greyson wasn't hiding anymore. Greyson and the monster inside
of him were on full display.
Vampires prowled as screams echoed through those trees, the
ripping sounds of pain a symphony of horrors, but one I had heard
before. It was the same sound anytime wolves joined his pack.
Anytime he chose to feed.
 My feet raced faster, right up the front steps of the manor house
and closer to the screams. I didn't have to go too far.
The marble foyer of the house was covered in bodies, some
writhing as they sobbed, some frozen with the pale skin of death.
The wolves we had trapped in here had become the feast for
Greyson's frustrations. Judging by the sobs, by the way the wolves
contorted in pain, some would make the change. Some.
There were more pale bodies than living ones. He had killed
more than he should have.
My wolf snarled before I pushed that thought away, carefully
pawing my way through the bodies as I stalked closer to the
screams. I didn't have to go far before I found him, just inside the
ballroom where many more wolves had been hiding. A few were still
huddled against the far door, trying to escape, even though you
could tell from the look in their eyes that they knew they were
trapped.
"Still, if word gets out of what you have done..." An unfamiliar
voice said, the low drawl a mix between utter boredom and extreme
ego.
A blonde man stood by his side, watching as Greyson drank
greedily from a pale woman. His fangs were in her neck, his hands
lengthened with lethal claws as he clung to her.
"You think I don't know?" Greyson said, his voice cracked with
mad laughter as he pushed the woman aside and turned toward the
man. They were about the same height, but while Greyson was dark
and ominous, the other was light and fair. He might have been
handsome if it wasn't for the mass of scars that crossed his face.
"Parris has managed to be restrained--"
"Don't talk to me about Parris, Dimitri," Greyson snapped,
interrupting the other as he kicked one of the still writhing bodies.
The poor girl just whimpered and flopped to the side. "I am nothing
like him."
"Indeed, if you were, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
We wouldn't have this problem," Dimitri snarled, his fangs pulling
against his bottom lip. Greyson rounded on him, his face pale and
streaked with grey veins as his fangs dropped. It was a horrifying
display, and one I had learned always meant danger. This Dimitri
fellow didn't even flinch.
Perhaps that was why he had so many scars.
"Don't be so feral, Greyson, you are starting to act like the beasts
you are so fond of. Why you chose the fae's bastards as your
compulsion, I will never know. Wolves." He spat that last word, and
I growled, pulling both men's focus for the first time.
"Oh god!" Dimitri snarled, whatever panic I had been hoping to
see him in was replaced with a curled lip. He acted more disgusted
than afraid. Fucking vampire. "Kill this one next."
"Kat," Greyson said, ignoring the scarred vampire and turning
back to the bodies. "Get out of that body will you."
My wolf made a chuffing sound before she retreated, bones
snapping painfully again. Both vampires looked at me with disgust as
my wolf fell away and I straightened myself before them.
Or, I tried to.
Things wouldn’t move quite right, it was almost as though my
bones weren’t fitting together anymore. My shoulder hung limply, my
leg was half broken, and one foot faced the wrong direction. I was
aware that one of my eyes was gone, and who knew what state that
left the rest of my face in.
Dimitri was covered in scars, but he looked just as disgusted with
me as Greyson did. It couldn't have been good. Regardless, I stood
still, my chin high as I looked Greyson dead in the eyes, those black
orbs staring right back.
"Where did you go, Kat?" He seemed more pissed than intrigued.
"I was looking for you. Although, by the look of you I should be
happy you are alive."
"Happy?" Dimitri scoffed, still looking me up and down. I snarled
at him, knowing better than to say anything snide to a vampire. I
turned back to Greyson.
"I laid a trap for Nova. I know where they are, all of them, and in
an hour there will be nothing left. I can take you there and together
we can finish them off. Together we can--" I stepped closer to him,
my hand streaked with blood as I reached for him. He didn't grab
my hand as he usually did, however. He stepped back and my
stomach clenched.
"What trap did you set?" Greyson asked, his lip curling over his
fangs. The tightening in my chest grew, anger threatening to take its
place.
Why was he looking at me like that? I had seen the monster
Nova turned into, her wolf was a blood covered un-dead thing. He
had made her that way, and now I was like this because of him.
Because I was protecting him, that was better than she could ever
say.
"Was it a bear trap and did you get caught in it?" Dimitri
snickered, Greyson coughing as he tried not to laugh.
I didn't care if he was a vampire, I rounded on him, my wolf
rattling in my chest as he sneered at me. The look he gave me was
even worse in the red streaked world.
"I look like this because when I was leading the guard to keep
them restrained, as I was commanded, they threw some blood on
me and all your vampires attacked." I folded my arms, glaring at the
two men. I waited, expecting Greyson to beam at me as he usually
did after a job well done. I waited for that wide smile, for his cold
hands to pull me toward him.
Instead, both he and Dimitri looked at me in horror.
"What do you mean ‘he threw some blood on you’?" Greyson
actually seemed afraid.
"I mean he had a fucking water bottle of blood and he sprayed it
on me and all the vampires attacked me. It was like they turned into
monsters." The horror on their faces grew with each word, my last
few words broken as I stared into their wide eyes. "What is it?"
"Stacia." Dimitri spoke so quietly that I couldn't be sure I heard
him correctly. "How did he... It's not possible."
"Well, clearly it is," Greyson snapped, grinning at Dimitri before
he turned on me, the smile I had been waiting for finally focused on
me. "Looks like Parris isn't the perfect prodigy you thought he was."
"Shit." Dimitri kicked one of the bodies we were surrounded by,
the poor man whimpering. I would have sworn he was dead before
then.
 "Where is it?" Greyson asked, still looking at me.
"Where is what?"
"The blood."
"I..." I turned, pointing behind me before I turned back to
Greyson, suddenly questioning my decision. "I took what I could
gather to Nova. I left it there, so she--"
Anything I had been about to say was cut short by a hard fist
that slammed into my cheek. Pain radiated through my already
broken body, my neck cracking as I spun through the air before I
slammed into the bodies that littered the ground. Only one of them
moved.
"You bitch!" Greyson roared from somewhere above me. I didn't
get a chance to look before agony splintered through my side, the
impact of a foot against my abdomen exploding through me. "You
gave blood from the Vampire King to her?"
"The Vampire King?" I stuttered before another fist slammed into
my jaw, this one from Dimitri, and sent me down onto the bare ass
of whatever dead body I had landed on top of.
"Yes! You gave... You left... You bitch!" Another punch and this
time I called out, the pain that was popping through my neck
making me sure I had broken something.
"Stop, brother," Dimitri spoke, as though he was bored. "She had
no way of knowing. But perhaps we can use it..."
"How?" Greyson was snarling.
"It's just like she said. It will drive the beast wild. She will clear
away the rest of the wolves and then you can retrieve your
abomination before any more damage is done." I chanced a glance
at the two, both of them hovering over me. Greyson's eyes were
red, those same grey lines over his face. He looked like cracked
marble. Angry as hell cracked marble. "As long as she doesn't drink
too much you should be fine."
"She already drank my blood," Greyson said, thankfully lowering
his fist.
"I know. Which is why you must hurry." Dimitri pulled a phone
out of his pocket, eyeing the buzzing box with disinterest before he
slid it back into place. "I can give you two days. But if this isn't
cleaned up by then--"
"I know," Greyson cut him off, his eyes flashing red again and I
flinched. "It will be done."
"Good, because you always were Father’s least favorite. And I am
sure he would love to hear just how much of a mess you have
made." Dimitri smiled at him before he turned away, strutting toward
the wolves that were still shaking in the corner.
I didn't watch him go. I was still watching Greyson, watching his
fury ebb as the grey lines on his face retreated. He knelt before me,
the long claws of his fingers dangling before my face as he watched
me.
"Well, Kat, it looks like you get a chance to fix this," he crooned
in that voice that always sent my core panting with desire. This time,
however, there was only panic. Only fear as he smiled, one of those
long claws lifting to trace a line down my jaw that was quickly
swelling from his attack. "Fix this, or I'll finish this,” he sneered,
crushing my jaw with the threat
"Yes, master," I whispered, using his preferred title. It was the
right one, he smiled before he stood extending his hand to me. I
took it carefully, trying to hide the cringe as those long vampiric nails
circled around my hand.
"Good girl." Greyson pulled me closer to him, the smell of blood
covering every inch of him.
The blood of the wolves he had devoured. My wolves. My people.
I could smell each of them, smell the fear in them, the same fear I
felt in myself. But I couldn't smell his blood. The blood I had heard
Asher so fearfully worry about Nova drinking. The same fear that
was echoed in Dimitri's voice as he heard of the same.
I leaned into Greyson, letting the scent he was coated in infect
me as I wondered exactly what his blood would do.
And if it would do the same thing to me.
CHAPTER 2
ASHER

“T here ' s no one here ," I whispered, my wolf on high alert as we

scanned the direct perimeter of the forest.
The hunting cabin we had all taken refuge in was right on the
edge of Greyson's forest. It stood to reason that at some point that
motherfucker would find us, but I couldn't pick anything up. Nothing
as to how Nova's cell phone could have ended up behind the cabin
in the middle of nowhere.
"Nova?" I trotted back over to her, the muscles in my back
tightening in warning as my hair raised up.
Her eyes had gone wide, the pupils shaking as she stared at the
illuminated screen on her phone. Her knuckles were white as she
dropped the phone to her side, her focus turning to something wild
as she looked at the box.
"What's that?" I asked as I came up beside her, both of us
staring at the box on the ground, the glass and liquid logo on the
side clear. "Wine? Who would leave you wine?"
It didn’t make sense, but even as I said it I knew how wrong that
was.
The scent of whatever was in the box hit me full in the face, and
it sure as shit wasn't wine.
"It's not wine," she whispered, her wolf whining. "It's blood. I
think I know what changed when I drank his blood.”
She looked up at me, her eyes dark. All of those warning lights a
minute before turned into sirens. Something wasn’t right, she wasn’t
right… and my wolf knew it.
 I knew it.
Even before she had to go and open her mouth and confirm my
worst fears.
“I'm a motherfucking vampire."
"Vampire?" I choked on the word, my already taut muscles
feeling like they were going to snap.
That shouldn't be possible, after everything we had gone through
there was no way in Hades that I was going to let something like
that happen. Like I had a choice in the matter.
Like it hadn't already been ripped to shreds.
"Fuck." That witch had warned us that something bad would
happen, not that it mattered. Not anymore.
I leaned down to get the box, ready to throw the fucking thing
into the forest, never to be seen again. I froze as a low growl
echoed from above me, trapping me between my mate and a box of
blood.
But it wasn't just any blood.
I knew that tang. I knew that half rotted aroma. Although I could
have sworn I had thrown the last of it at Kat. Somehow there was
more, and Nova was staring at it with that same wild panic she had
before. Except this time she wasn’t in her wolf. That desire had
crossed over.
And now she was growling with that same desire to rip anything
in her path to reach the blood to shreds. Like me, hovering between
her and the box of blood like its bodyguard.
And there were all those warning lights, again.
“Nova, focus,” I said stupidly as I backed up. I wasn't exactly
sure how you got a vampire wolf girl from attacking her fated mate
with the need to get to some enchanted blood, but I was willing to
try anything. "Just breathe, but not the blood. Breathe in my scent,
but don't eat me."
Clearly my 'try anything' radar needed some work. I just didn’t
know enough about vampires, or baby vampires… or hybrid
vampires… or whatever she was.
"Asher. Run," she growled through her teeth. The two words
were strained, broken, but one glance up at her pale face, and those
two bright red eyes looking down at me... My wolf jumped into
action, snarling and ripping at me as he tried to escape and pin her
down.
I was barely able to move back before she lunged at the box, her
nails elongating as she clawed at the cardboard like some kind of
animal. The box ripped in two without much effort, the sides tearing
to shreds as the blood inside of it was revealed. There wasn’t much,
clearly just whatever they had been able to gather from when I had
used it, but it was enough to turn her into a wild animal.
She lapped at the blood, all of that ferality from before becoming
dangerous. Snarling.
I knew I shouldn’t be afraid, she was my fated mate, the wolf
that mine had chosen. Although, as she lifted her head, red eyes
staring at me as blood dripped from her lips, I wasn’t sure I saw
that.
I wasn’t even sure I could see her anymore.
I couldn’t even see her wolf. My wolf didn’t see her wolf, his
hackles were raised, a warning snarl echoing from my chest as I
took a step back.
“Nova?” My voice shook as she stood to face me, her blood red
eyes focused on me. "Nova. Just breathe..."
“Alpha, I have a question,” Elena spoke from behind her, the
female clearly having followed us here.
“Not now,” I snapped, just as Nova turned at the sound, her eyes
trained on the girl.
"Shit." There was no way this was going to go well.
A low snarl echoed through the gap between the cabin and the
trees as Elena’s eyes widened. Panic overtook her as Nova ran,
Elena’s face twisting in confusion.
“Run!” I yelled as I threw myself at Nova, ready to tackle her to
the ground.
I was too late. Nova ripped through the clearing behind the cabin
with a crack, moving more like a vampire than a wolf. Nova was
gone in a blur of white, slamming into Elena at the end of the cabin
with a thud of flesh on flesh. Elena hadn’t even had a chance to
shift.
 "Nova! No!" I yelled as their bodies tumbled into the clearing,
Elena screaming as she tried to fight off the monster that was on top
of her. Nova didn't even seem to notice, she just snapped and
clawed. I ran faster, letting my wolf propel me forward.
I could get there. I could restrain Nova. I could stop whatever--
I froze in place as Nova snarled, as her mouth clamped around
Elena’s neck and pulled back in a fan of bright red blood that went
over everything. The quiet forest was suddenly filled with screams.
“No.” This couldn't be happening. No way in shifter hell was this
happening!
No matter how slow the world seemed to move, I could not
move fast enough. By the time I had reached the clearing everything
had turned to chaos.
Wolves in both their animal and human form ran everywhere,
their panic ripping at me as I reached the girl that Nova had taken
down. Elena’s eyes stared vacantly into the night sky, her neck
ripped open as the last of her blood trickled over her ashen skin.
“No!” That time it was more of a scream, the panic growing as I
turned to the chaos.
Nova moved from person to person, her body seeming to blur as
the vampire speed ripped her from one place to another. Bodies fell
in her wake, blood covering everything as it sprayed over dirt and
across trees. Peyton and Dax shifted into their wolves as they raced
toward the stampeding Nova. Daisy sat in the same place she had
before, bouncing her foot as she leaned against a log. She was
watching everything as though it was a blockbuster movie and not a
terrifying reality.
“Run!” I screamed into the crowd before I shifted into my wolf,
letting the animal rip from me as I ran. My wolf growled as his paws
hit the ground, my teeth already bared as we ran toward where Dax
had just slammed into Nova.
She shrieked as she tumbled through the air, arms and legs
flailing. I half expected her to shift, for her mutilated wolf to appear,
but she remained human, slamming into the cabin with an earth
shattering crack.
 The wood creaked, the whole thing shifting to the side before it
began to collapse over where Nova had landed. Dust went
everywhere, embers from the fire dancing through the air in a wave
as a gust of wind from the collapse blew over my pack.
Everyone froze, wolves and humans alike turning toward the
collapsed cabin.
No one spoke, no one moved.
We all waited in silence, the panic from my pack turning into an
echo in my head, all of the rambling thoughts moving through the
pack connection.
‘Is she alive?’
‘What was she?’
‘What have I done? She’s going to kill us all.’
‘She better be dead.’
My heart tensed, my wolf whimpering as I slowly stepped
forward. I was the Alpha of this pack, but my fated mate had just
attacked my pack.
I was enraged. I was worried. Panicked.
I wasn’t sure what the hell I was supposed to be.
Should I be scared that she was dead, or hope that she was?
How the hell were you supposed to feel in situations like this?
'Careful, Asher,' Dax growled through the pack connection as I
walked toward the collapsed cabin, his voice low as he and Peyton
came up on either side of us, all of us prowling toward the settling
dust and the collapsed cabin.
We were the only things moving in the clearing. Well, except for
Daisy's foot waving through the air as she leaned against the tree.
You would think she was watching a soap opera, which was probably
why she was the only one who didn't jump when the logs moved.
Dax, Peyton and I froze, all of our wolves on high alert as the
logs shifted to the side and a pale, clawed hand shot up from
between them.
Holy fuck!
I jumped back, several in the clearing following suit as they
shifted into their wolves and began to prowl forward.
 Shit. This was getting out of hand. It already was, but the more
wolves that were involved the worse it was going to be.
They were ready to take her down. I still had no idea what to do
in this situation, but I
sure as hell wasn't going to kill her. If I wanted that to happen,
however, I would have to be the one to get her.
'Stay back!' I snapped at the air, commanding the few that were
trying to prowl forward and take her down like they were going to
get gold stars for it. You had to love baby wolf shifters waiting to
prove themselves. If only they had the common sense to realize that
this was not the time.
I jumped forward, just as a second hand shot up from the rubble
and pushed a large log straight up into the air. It soared like a
rocket, only to tumble back down like a giant’s javelin.
'Got it!' Peyton yelled, her pale wolf darted above me. I was sure
she would willingly wrestle that log into submission, but I wasn't
about to look away from the red-eyed vampire that was growing out
of the ground.
Nova snarled at me, her eyes red and hungry. She should have
been a monster, but there was something else there. A pain. A loss.
She wasn’t in control, and she sure as hell didn't want this.
I had my answer. There was no way in hell I was going to let this
be the end of her.
'Nova,' I whispered to her, fully aware she couldn't hear me in
her human form.
She ran at me, snarling and mad. I pawed her to the side, my
wide paw was barely able to restrain her. I was strong enough, sure,
but she was small, wiry, and I didn't have thumbs. It was the lack of
thumbs that was the biggest problem. How do you restrain someone
when you don't have thumbs?
She lunged at me again, her fangless teeth gnashing at the air
just inches from me. I swiped her away, pushing her back with my
paw and sending a plume of dirt up between us. She didn't go far,
she stopped herself like some kind of superhero, already prepped to
run at me again.
 It didn't matter, though, she had given me just enough time to
shift back into my human form.
"Nova, stop, please." I kept my hands out like some kind of
hostage negotiator as I stepped closer to her, the pain on her face
echoed through me like a bass drum as she turned to me only to
disappear with a crack.
She moved so fast I didn't even see a blur. One second she was
standing in the middle of the rubble, the next I was flat on my back
as she hovered above me. She would have reached me if it wasn't
for the hand across her chest, and the smug grin and upturned nose
that hovered between us.
Nova didn't even seem to notice Daisy there, the witch's hand
keeping her away from me. She just snarled and snapped, fighting
against her like she was an invisible wall.
"I told you I would wait until the bite for you to make your
decision, Asher," Daisy spoke as though she wasn't holding back a
snarling vampire-wolf thing. "This is your last chance. Make a deal
with me, or I'll release her."
"What the hell? Are you extorting me?" Rage filled my mouth, my
wolf snarling as I did. I tried to wiggle away, but Daisy was holding
me down. The second she released Nova, my neck would look like
all the others.
"Not exactly. But also, yes," Daisy smiled. Nova was snapping at
the air now.
That same sad look was in her eyes, the panic evident even
through the hungry red. She wasn't in control. The hunger was.
"Nova," I tried again, but it was as though she didn't even hear
me.
"Make the deal, Asher,” Daisy grunted as Nova snapped at me
again, closer this time. Daisy was letting her get closer, because of
course she would...
"You witch!" I pushed against her, but Daisy just snarled, her
own teeth bared alongside Nova's.
"I have already told you! I am not a witch!"
"Only a witch would play these games. And demand payment--"
 "I'm not a witch," Daisy interrupted, her eyes sparking as she
leaned closer to me. "I'm a fae."
CHAPTER 3
NOVA

“I’ m a fae .”
The words punctured through the fog that the blood had put me
in, this wasn't like when I was in my wolf form. This was
uncontrollable. That blood was a drug. I took a sniff, got the hit, and
apparently lost control of everything, including my common sense.
I guess I should have listened to that cryptic message about not
drinking that vampire bastard’s blood.
You live, you learn... you become a vampire.
This was not good. Just thinking about that wonderful blood was
making me lose what little control I had over the snarling, snapping
beast.
Down Bessie!
"What do you mean you're a fae?" Asher asked in a panic as I
snapped at the wobbly shape before me. It was only then that I
realized exactly what I was trying to eat.
And what I already did. The taste of blood was raw in my mouth,
something a little too solid was sitting on my tongue. I didn't want to
know what it was, or how it got there, although I had a guess based
on the panic in Asher's voice, and the residual screams that were
ringing in my ears.
"I mean, I'm a fae. You know, a magic wielding pixie... I don't
know how much clearer I can be. Now, are you going to take the
deal or not?" Daisy was calm, but I was snarling. I didn't know what
this deal was, but if it involved me not being a snarling snapping
blood hungry beast I was of the opinion he should take it.
 I tried to say as much, but all that came out was some kind of
snapping, gurgling sound as my mouth filled with saliva. Great, I
was still trying to bite him. Or whatever I had turned into was trying
to bite him.
Take the deal, Asher!
"But the fae are extinct."
If blood lusting vampires could roll their eyes, I would be rolling
my eyes right then. Was this really the time to be arguing over the
existence of a creature who was offering to stop whatever had
happened to me? Again, I tried to say as much, and again, I was
drooling and snapping at the air.
"Last chance, Asher," Daisy said as I snarled, the pressure of her
hand against my chest lessening.
Take the fucking deal, Asher!
"Okay. Fine. Deal. Save her." His voice shook only inches from my
ears. Holy shifter hell! How close was I to ripping his face off?
"Good choice," Daisy whispered, her voice light and airy as all the
muddled, blood-smeared blurs of my vision began to clear.
I was certain the world was covered in glitter as the otherworldly
compulsion faded. I didn't feel quite as interested in ripping out
people's throats anymore. Which was good, because I had no
interest in doing so in the first place. I shook my head like that was
all that was needed to clear away the blood addiction, and the last
of my blurry vision left.
I almost wished it would come back. Asher was so close that I
could see the veins in the whites of his eyes. My lips were
centimeters from his, his breath hot and panicked as he exhaled.
Holy shit! I had been inches from biting him, inches from his
probably very bloody death judging by the amount of blood that was
coating my teeth. Inches... and he had been arguing over the
existence of fae.
Men.
That lecture would have to wait.
"Shifter hell!" I screeched, shuffling away from him and the fae
who was in fact glowing as though she had been coated with glitter.
Guess that book had been wrong, a supernatural creature glittered,
but it wasn't a vampire.
"What happened?" I asked, looking from one pair of eyes to
another. Everyone was staring at me, and only four people seemed
to be the least bit excited that I had emerged from my blood-drug
haze. Everyone else was pissed, and scared. It didn't miss my notice
that murder was in their eyes.
I swallowed, that bit of whatever was on my tongue a bit too
fleshy for my liking.
"What happened?" I asked again, softer that time as I looked at
Asher. He was just as panicked as the rest of them, but didn't look
as much like he wanted to kill me. I wasn't sure that was a good
thing. "How many... what did..."
Somehow, saying the words 'How many people did I kill?' refused
to come out.
"You were poisoned by the vampires," Daisy announced, clearly
making sure that her voice lifted to everyone. "They left you some of
that blood Asher used on them so we could all escape, knowing you
would react to it. Knowing that you would wipe us all out. Clearly, if
I wasn't here they would have been successful. They almost won.
You're welcome."
She inspected her nails like she had done us a great service, but
I was still stuck on the whole ‘they were almost successful’ part. My
focus darted from the smug fae to the bodies behind her. Bodies.
I was going to be sick.
"I felt the same when Asher used it before, what is it?" I
swallowed at least twice after I asked the question, not that it really
helped to clear the taste of blood from my mouth. I was going to
need to find some tequila and burn that shit away, and quick.
"It's nothing--"
"She killed Ember!" someone yelled from behind us, cutting Daisy
off and we all turned. "She can't be allowed to live after that!"
"She killed Dante!"
"Someone grab her!"
That one announcement was like a match to tinder, the baby
wolves panic exploding into anger as they all rose. It wasn't the first
time that so much anger would be directed at me, and I had a bad
feeling that it wouldn't be the last. Now that I knew what I was, and
exactly what Greyson had done to me, I was beginning to realize
exactly why my father kept me hidden.
One does not just live amongst wolves when a part of you is
desperate to drink their blood.
Of course, I had awakened that part by drinking the vampire’s
blood…
My stomach flipped and I really wasn't sure if it was in thirst or
disgust, the way my wolf was growling made me sure it was both. I
was really going to have to get that checked out.
"She's exactly what Greyson said she would be!" Someone else
yelled, and all of those baby wolves reduced to a murmuring mob
again.
Asher was already rising to his feet, ready to face them head on
as he tried to push me behind him like I was some kind of docile
female needing protection. My solitary scoff was so loud I was sure
everyone heard it. No way in hell was I letting that happen.
"You mean I'm exactly what a sadistic vampire created so that he
had a weapon against shifters in his effort to overtake and control
you all," I said before Asher could get a word in. "I mean, if you are
going to try to paint me as a monster, at least get the kind of
monster straight. Besides, I told you all of this hours ago, why are
you acting surprised?" The woman who had spoken blinked at me
and decided to just glare at me.
I was gonna have to get a piggy bank for how many people
ended up hating me by the end of all of this. A nickel for every scowl
would probably make me a millionaire.
"Greyson is a vampire," I continued before anyone else had a
chance to interject. "He made my wolf into a vampire, and I guess
he made me into a vampire too. He wants to kill wolves, and he
wants to use me to do it."
I wasn't sure how much he wanted to kill wolves or just sleep
with them, but I figured this wasn't the time or place for this
argument.
 "So you are a vampire!" another man yelled. Asher and Dax
turned towards him. "I don't understand why we haven't killed her."
More yelling and fist pumping. I was sure if they had torches and
pitchforks they would actually look pretty ominous.
"Because I am the only one who can kill Greyson," I yelled,
putting together what Daisy had said earlier. “You will need someone
as strong as he is to take him down.” Who better to take down the
Vampire Prince than me. He had created me. "If we want the
vampire gone, if we want our packs back, you need me."
None of them liked that. But no one questioned me either. Daisy
nodded, confirming my assumption as she folded her arms over her
chest. She wasn't glowing anymore but there was a certain glitter to
her skin that wasn't normal. No wonder she had struck me as odd
around the fire before.
"That and she is my fated mate." I had been so focused on
Daisy's glitter-skin that I hadn't even noticed Asher come up behind
me.
He hadn't said anything about this when we were all talking
about vampires and destroying said vampires last night, and I really
didn't know what he was thinking, associating with me now. I
couldn't remember doing it, but I had killed people.
There was no way in hell that this was ending well.
You could practically see the wave of shock and anger move over
the pack, those that were still in their wolf form snarling as they
dropped their heads. It almost looked like they were furiously
bowing, maybe they were. The only two people who looked even
remotely excited were Dax and Peyton, who had shifted out of their
wolf form and were now standing in a tangle of flesh off to the side.
"So, you would excuse the fact that she killed our people because
of it?" someone yelled, sending more people snarling. "What kind of
alpha would mate with a monster?"
“Silence, JJ,” Asher boomed, not that it mattered, that one stung.
I had thought the same thing on multiple occasions, and now it
was being thrown right back at me. What could I say? The truth
hurts.
 "Is this really the right time to do that?" I hissed at Asher
through the corner of my mouth, not trusting myself to turn to look
at him. Daisy had done some glowy magic shit to calm my blood lust
down, but I really didn't trust that it would hold.
And Asher was the last person I wanted to accidentally rip the
neck off of. Fated mate stuff aside, I actually kinda liked the guy.
"I told you before that I will stand beside you--"
"I almost killed you Asher," I cut him off, fully aware that I was
snarling.
"But you didn't."
"Because you made a deal with a fae." I turned to look at him
then, and thankfully didn't want to rip his face off.
He stood there, blood smeared over his skin, his grey eyes
sparkling with the faint purple glow of his wolf. His blonde shaggy
hair was everywhere, the shadow of growth on his chin looking all
sorts of tempting. My wolf whined, the sound giving away the fact
that I didn't feel even remotely mad at him.
"I did.” He nodded once, stepping closer to me before he turned
to the group again.
All of the wolves that had sworn their loyalty to him only minutes
before stood there, staring at him.
"Greyson left blood for Nova so that she would kill us all. He
wanted to end us, because he knows we are the only ones that can
end him. He knows that Nova is the one that can end him. He's
scared. And if we kill Nova for killing others, when she was out of
control of her body, we are playing into his hands.” His voice carried
over everyone, his voice rattling like he thought they were all going
to bow down to him like they had before.
Instead, they mumbled as they looked from me to Asher and
back again.
As right as Asher was, everyone else was right, too. I had killed
those people, and as much as I would love to say ‘the blood made
me do it’ it wasn’t a good excuse. Hell, it wasn’t an excuse at all.
“You’re right!” I yelled over everyone before I thought better of
it. “I killed them. Whether I meant to or not, I killed them.” Saying it
aloud was like stabbing myself in the chest repeatedly. My chest
suddenly felt hot and heavy, like I couldn’t breathe, or was breathing
in hot lava.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe and get myself under
control, but instead I was slammed with an image I had seen before,
me stalking toward a frightened woman. Greyson prodded me on,
coaxing me to kill her. Forcing me to do so.
My wolf whimpered, all of that stabbing getting worse.
If the earth had chosen that moment to open up and swallow me
whole I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
“It’s okay, Nova.” I almost jumped out of my skin as Asher placed
his hand on my arm. His palm was warm and calloused as he stood
there, right beside me. He didn’t even look scared.
He was just there. With me. Looking all handsome and shit.
Damn the good looking good guys.
“These people were not the first Greyson made me kill,” I said,
more to Asher before I turned to the crowd who seemed to be
teetering between anger and confusion now. “But they also won’t be
the last. If I am the only one that can kill him, then you need to let
me. If I don’t, he will just keep coming back. If he doesn’t use me,
he will just use someone else.” Like Peyton. If I hadn’t already been
under Greyson’s lock and key when he captured her, she would have
been next on that list.
I couldn’t let what happened to me happen to anyone else.
I refused.
“Once he is dead,” I continued, forcing the words past the weight
in my chest, “then you can decide what to do with me.”
Asher whirled to me, his hand tightening against my forearm.
Sparks moved over my skin at the contact, my wolf purring like a lap
dog, I was sure he was trying to stop me, but I just ignored him,
plowing on before he had a chance.
“If I die, I die. If you want me dead, that’s fine too. But let me
finish Greyson first.”
I should have been panicked. That weight on my chest should
have pushed me to the ground regardless of the earth opening up.
But somehow I felt light, even with Asher’s hand shaking against my
forearm, even with the way his wolf was growling.
 This was right, and I think it always had been.
“I won’t let this happen.” Asher was firm, but I just smiled at
him. There was nothing he could do anyway.
CHAPTER 4
NOVA

“I f you give me puppy dog eyes and tell me one more time how I
shouldn’t have said that, I’m going to lose it.” I was already boiling,
but he didn’t seem to care. Probably because he was boiling just as
much.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” Asher said smugly, because of
course he wouldn’t listen.
I rolled my eyes and scowled at him, the fire we all sat around
casting weird shadows over his face. It was late and we should all be
sleeping, but my internal vampire rampage had taken that option off
the table.
Not only because I had pissed people off, but because if a
vampire had left blood in the expectation of an attack, they would
be back.
No one was really interested in sleeping anymore.
“Don’t get pouty. I killed people, Asher, just in case you didn’t
notice. Did you really think they were going to follow you after that
if you didn’t do anything?”
“I’m their Alpha, I could have--”
“Did you really think they would just follow you after you
announced that you were my mate?” I interrupted him. That wiped
any response from him. He went back to scowling, his lips pressed
together.
He knew I was right.
“I hate to say it, but I agree with Nova,” Peyton said from the
other side of the fire, poking it with the same stick I had used
before. “They don’t trust her.”
“Thank you,” I said, even though I was sure I shouldn’t have
taken that as a compliment.
“I don’t care! You are my mate, Nova. They should be able to put
that aside--”
“Put aside that I killed people?” I cut him off again, which only
made him more fumey. He sat there, shoulders hunched, like a
petulant child.
I probably shouldn’t have found it as funny as I did, and my
chuckle wasn’t helping. Any further and steam would pour from his
ears.
“Asher, we all get where you are coming from, but Nova’s right.
She will have to face punishment for what she did.” Dax leaned
forward, his face glistening through the flames from where he sat
next to Peyton.
“For all of it. This wasn’t the first time.” Which was probably why
I was handling this so well, or rather that I was shoving it into the
same black pit of my heart where all of the other ‘accidental
murders’ lived. I was suddenly wishing I had a stick to poke the
flames with.
“You shouldn’t have done it, you basically signed your death
warrant.” Of course, it would be the pained look in his eyes that
would break me and not the fact that I had, in fact, basically signed
my own death warrant.
“I think that was signed when Greyson killed me,” I mumbled to
myself.
“They will want you to die.” Asher leaned into me, his voice
barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, oddly enough I figured that out when a few of them
yelled ‘Kill her now!’” I mimicked them the best I could, even
pumped my fist in the air like a tyrant. No one laughed. “We should
be happy they didn’t try to do me in right then.”
There were more than just the coup leaders who had wanted to.
Hell, I was sure that given the right opportunity they might just. The
fact that I wasn’t in control and didn’t remember attacking anyone
was not really helping my case either. None of them were really
happy with my offer, but we were stuck.
They needed me to kill the vampire.
I needed to stop eating them.
My stomach was still wrapped up in knots, I hadn’t really had a
chance to process what had happened, and who exactly I had killed.
When I finally got around to feeling that, it wouldn’t be pretty.
Just sitting here it was already starting to creep in. It was time
for a change of subject, from one murder to another.
“You know, it’s amazing that we are arguing about this when a
Vampire Prince is probably heading our way to try to eradicate us
all.” I gave Asher a look before turning back to the fire. Peyton and
Dax sat opposite us, Daisy back against her log as she swung her
foot.
Everyone else had been put on watch, seeing as we did, in fact,
have a vampire heading our way. I still wasn’t sure why we hadn’t
just left right away, but Asher had said something about them not
finding us on the run. I didn’t know enough about this stuff to
argue. Which was probably why I had been caught by Greyson so
soon after my father died.
“I thought you were going to finish him off for us,” Dax grinned
at me, his brilliant white teeth ablaze.
“Ha ha.”
“Ah, so you were lying? You gonna leave the old bloodsucker to
us?” Dax was still smiling.
“No, I have to be the one to kill him.” I knew that much, and
Daisy sitting up straighter proved it. Even her foot stopped moving.
“But, I’m still not sure how.”
“Good thing I made a deal to help us.” Asher peered around me
to Daisy, who was now staring right at me, that weird glittery glow
from before in her eyes. “At least I hope I did.” Daisy smiled like a
demon from a horror film, her lips all slim and twisted as her eyes
continued to sparkle.
I don’t care what anyone said, eyes that sparkle like glitter were
creepy as hell.
No thank you.
 I fought the need to twist away from her and instead leaned
closer, trying to match my own smile with hers. I was a mutated
vampire, I was sure I could be creepy.
“Are you okay, Nova? You look like you have gas,” Peyton
whispered from across the fire. Okay, I guess I wasn’t as scary as I
thought.
“Just trying to match her creepy ass grin. Since she wants to be
dramatic and not answer questions.” I lifted my eyebrow at her in
question and Daisy made a sound like what I would assume a
drowning fish would make.
“I wasn’t being dramatic,” Daisy said, the sparkle in her eyes was
gone now as she nearly shrieked. All she needed was to fan her
false shock with her hand… and there she went.
“Okay, not dramatic. What deal did Asher make, and what did
you do to turn me… normal?” The word wasn’t quite right, but it was
the only one that fit.
What did you say when the rabid vampire that you were turned
into fades away like someone flipped a switch? Flipped? De-
vampired?
“I just removed the Vampire King’s blood from your system.”
Daisy grinned and went back to tapping her foot in the air.
She didn’t even seem to notice that we were all blinking at her
like she had sprouted another head.
“I’m sorry,” Peyton asked, leaning forward with her finger in the
air, “did you say Vampire King?” Daisy nodded. “Oh good, and here I
was thinking we only had a Vampire Prince to worry about. I guess
we should just set another place for dinner, yeah? Welcome the
whole family home.”
“Stop, Peyton,” Asher shifted his weight. “How do you know it’s
the Vampire King’s blood?”
Daisy stopped her air tapping again. “Because I know who took
it, and what it does, and how it works, and all sorts of things that
you don’t need to be worried about because I just got rid of the last
of it. You’re welcome.”
“Seems like we still have to worry if the Vampire King is just
going to show up.” Peyton shifted closer to Dax, both of them
looking around like that was just what was going to happen.
“He’s not, the old dodger is mostly kept under lock and key by
his sons. It’s them you have to worry about, and so far we only have
the one.”
“So far…” I mumbled. She may glitter like a disco ball’s fart, but
nothing Daisy was saying was sounding positive.
“Unless Greyson causes some kind of catastrophe we’re good.
Our bigger problem will be making sure Nova can fight him when it
comes down to it. Which I can help with now that you’ve made a
deal with me.”
“You know a lot about the Vampire Princes,” I said at the same
time Asher spoke up.
“And what exactly was this deal I made?”
Which was nearly overpowered by Peyton yelling, “And how do
we know we can trust you?”
“So many questions.” Daisy sat up, giving us the same creepy
smile again. Although, with how the others were looking at her I was
starting to think I was the only one who saw it. “First,” she pointed
at me, “you all thought the fae were extinct, yeah? Did you ever
think about who might have been responsible for that little rumor
and who is hiding us all? That's right! A Vampire Prince!” She waved
her hands like she was announcing the winner on a gameshow.
“Plus, you do realize that you just saved me from his ass, right? Like,
I was in a cage…”
“A cage that disappeared the second I told you that you had to
come with us.” Asher was more than a little skeptical. Not that I
blamed him, the more I was around Daisy, the more nothing added
up.
Everyone had been told to stay away from witches. I was starting
to think fae were worse.
Well, weirder at least.
“Yes, which brings us to your question, oh mighty Alpha.” She
gave Asher an overly dramatic bow and his wolf growled so loud I
could have sworn one of the logs in the now collapsed cabin shifted.
“I was there on assignment from someone else. You told me that I
was being recalled. I don’t exactly want to go back to her right now,
and while I am sure I will pay for that later you making a deal with
me means I have to stay with you until our deal is complete.”
Just trying to follow those mental gymnastics was making my
head hurt. Thankfully, Asher kept up beautifully.
“And what exactly is our deal?”
“That I help train her to end the Vampire Prince that is hunting
you.” She sounded way too eager considering what she had just
said. I glanced at Asher, his lips pulled into a tight line. He clearly
wasn’t falling for it either.
“And what do we have to pay for this ‘deal’?” I braced for the
answer, even Peyton was sitting still as she leaned in.
“Absolutely nothing!” Again, she lifted her hands like we were in
a gameshow.
What the hell was with this girl? She was glittering, she was
scowling, she was hosting a one woman game show.
And I thought I had it bad with having both a moody wolf and a
bloodthirsty vamp inside of me. My wolf growled at that, the hairs
on my arm pricking up. I guess she didn’t like being compared to the
overly bubbly fae girl.
Don’t worry. We are on the same page.
“I’m telling you. I’m just putting off where I have to go. This only
benefits you. I did tell you I wasn’t a witch. We don’t work that way.”
All of that bubbly nature faded as her eyes sparked and that same
creepy smile returned.
Jeeze! This girl was giving me whiplash. It was like watching a
month's worth of emotions on fast forward.
“And that’s why we are supposed to trust you?” Peyton asked,
leaning forward.
The fire had mostly died now, the flames having reduced to two-
inch tall sputters on one of the logs, all of the others had turned to a
crisp. The chill of night was starting to creep in, which of course
made every snap of a twig from the patrolling wolves around us that
much louder.
“No, that you will have to figure out on your own. But I highly
suggest you do.” And she was back to grinning and swinging her
foot.
 Remind me never to work with a fae again.
My wolf growled in agreement, Asher’s beast’s growl lifting in
answer.
Had he heard me?
I didn’t know enough about mates to know for sure, but he was
sure looking at me like he had. That was going on my list of things
to ask, because if he could in fact hear my garden of snide
comments we were going to have some problems.
Your cock looks like an octopus tentacle.
It was a lie of course, he had a very nice cock, and thinking
about it right now was probably not my best choice, but how else
was I supposed to test this?
Thankfully, he didn’t so much as smirk, even if I had turned
myself into a steaming pile of need. I shifted my weight, trying to
clamp my legs together lest anyone get a whiff of what I was
feeling.
Note to self: don’t think about Asher’s cock in a public setting.
“Okay, so now that we have had absolutely nothing answered,”
Peyton startled me out of my increasingly wet daydreams, “where do
we go from here?”
“Nothing has changed.” Asher scowled at the fire as though he
was telling it his grand plan. “After we know for sure that no one is
following us, we are going home.”
CHAPTER 5
NOVA

"D o you think you can do this?" Asher's husky whisper drifted
through the dark, the last of the fire glowing brighter for a second,
as though it had heard him.
"Do what?" I tried not to laugh at the question and went back to
poking at the last sparks of the fire with the stick I had recovered
from Peyton. There were just too many things that I had to do for
me to know what he was talking about. "Kill Greyson? Totally. I have
no idea what I am doing, but I am confident I can figure it out in the
moment."
I probably would have killed him before now, I had been steps
away after all. But he was the one to run away. He was scared of
me. He knew I could take him. Which was probably why he left a
box of cursed blood for me. He may have the ego of a Vampire
Prince, but when it came down to it he was willing to let someone
else do his dirty work.
"Of that, I have no question." Asher leaned into me, that lilac
and pine scent of his wrapping around me. I had to fight the need to
just lean into him and kiss him again, but I already had enough of
scent fueled addictions for the day.
Although he did smell really, really nice.
Focus, Nova! Stop trying to lick him!
That last part was for my wolf, she wanted him as much as I
did.
"Well, if we are both sure I can take down a Vampire Prince, then
what are you so concerned about, Alpha?" I batted my eyes at him
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 + Wis Lib Bul 16:196 N ’20 140w

SEGUR, SOPHIE (ROSTOPCHINE)

[2]
comtesse de. Old French fairy tales. il *$5 Penn

20–19079

“An octavo with full-page plates, both in color and in black and
white, by Virginia Frances Sterrett, is ‘Old French fairy tales,’
compiled by Comtesse de Segur.” (Springf’d Republican) “The titles
are: Blondine, Bonne-Biche, and Beau-Minon; Good little Henry;
Princess Rosette; The little grey mouse and Our son.” (Booklist)

+ Booklist 17:127 D ’20

“These tales are told in that simple and direct fashion that children
love and older folk find good. And the illustrations are in truth
among the loveliest that have ever translated fairy tale into fairy
scene.” Hildegarde Hawthorne

+ N Y Times p4 N 28 ’20 210w

+ Springf’d Republican p10 D 17 ’20 80w

SEIFFERT, MARJORIE ALLEN (ELIJAH

HAY, pseud.). Woman of thirty, and Poems of
Elijah Hay. *$1.50 Knopf 811

19–19879

This is vers libre that sings. There is elusive beauty, the sweet and
the bitter of life, and the wistfulness of passing youth. The opening
piece is a morality play: The old woman, in which the new that makes
place for the old is but the old in disguise. The poems are divided
into Love poems in summer; Studies and designs; Interlude; Love
poems in autumn; and the Poems of Elijah Hay.

Booklist 16:272 My ’20

Reviewed by H: A. Lappin

+ Bookm 51:214 Ap ’20 100w

“The trouble with ‘A woman of thirty’ is its lack of synthesis.

Colour and a free movement, subtleties of thought and rhythm are
here, but they have not been integrated: they ravel out into many
unconnected loose ends.” L: Untermeyer

+ − Dial 68:535 Ap ’20 160w

“The poems are sophisticated and a little cynical. She writes free
verse naturally, unaffectedly and effectively.”

+ − Ind 104:65 O 9 ’20 130w

 “Her figures, elaborate and excellent as they are, do not penetrate
that core of the memory which lives on tranquilly and forever.” M. V.
D.

+ − Nation 111:248 Ag 28 ’20 80w

“Almost one wishes that Mrs Seiffert could produce some

disassociation in her personality. Then she might give us, besides the
poems that are all too human, much more about the harsh black
birds flying in the design—more in the style of that odd and very
memorable little morality ‘The old woman.’ These are poems that
evidence intellectual conception.” Padraic Colum

+ − New Repub 25:54 D 8 ’20 150w

“It must be admitted that in her failing Mrs Seiffert is better than
many who achieve their limited successes; but the dominant
overtone is an attempt at a deft sophistication, which can never quite
conceal that it is the sophistication of rural Illinois, rather than the
sophistication of Chicago, London.” Clement Wood

+ − N Y Call p10 Mr 28 ’20 500w

“Mrs Seiffert writes equally well in free verse and in regularly

stressed rhythm. Her work is remarkable for a felicitous ease in
expression and a great variety of interests and ideas.”

+ N Y Times 25:193 Ap 18 ’20 180w

 SELIGMAN, V. J. Salonica side-show. il *$4
Dutton 940.42

“There are four parts to the book, of which the first and last were
written in Macedonia during the summer of 1918. Beginning with a
description of the Seres road which was of the greatest importance
for the British line of communications and on which the writer ‘can
really claim expert knowledge’ after spending two years in various
camps by its side, he proceeds to give amusing accounts of life
behind the front among the British Tommies and Greek Johnnies....
The second part, which explains the events that led to the final
offensive of September 15 to September 30, 1918, and gives an
account of the battle itself with more details regarding the Anglo-
Greek attack at Doiran, will prove of greater value to the historic
mind.”—Review

“Mr Seligman’s book embodies a considerable amount of

information regarding the expedition, and is printed in a clear and
readable form.”

+ Ath p932 S 19 ’19 80w

“There is a harmonious combination of humorous anecdote and

serious study expressed in an easy but by no means slipshod style.
Equally entertaining and instructing, the book is well worth reading.”
A. E. Phoutrides

+ Review 3:450 N 10 ’20 960w

“Mr Seligman treats the expedition so disconnectedly that his is a

terrible rag-bag of a book. Some of his stories are excellent.”
 + − Sat R 128:366 O 18 ’19 520w

“His chapter on ‘The tragedy of Constantine’ is worth reading;

nothing that he says about the allied diplomacy in regard to Bulgaria
is too strong, but he errs in putting all the blame on the British
foreign office.”

+ − Spec 122:411 S 27 ’19 190w

“Those who enjoyed ‘Macedonian musings’ will certainly take

pleasure in ‘The Salonica side show.’”

+ The Times [London] Lit Sup p493 S 18

’19 600w

SELIGMANN, HERBERT JACOB. Negro faces

America. *$1.75 Harper 326

20–10771

This book is a study of the negro problem in the United States

today from the friendly viewpoint of a former member of the
editorial staff of the New York Evening Post and the New Republic,
who is now connected with the National association for the
advancement of colored people, The author discusses race prejudice
at length and tries to show how many problems that most people
consider to be racial are fundamentally economic and political
problems. There are chapters on the negro in industry, the negro as
scape-goat of city politics, and the effect of the European war upon
the American negro. The Chicago, Omaha and Washington riots are
explained and the Arkansas trouble of 1919 is treated under the
caption “The American Congo.” There is an appendix on the
Bogalusa, Louisiana, trouble by the president of the Louisiana state
federation of labor. There is no index.

Booklist 17:143 Ja ’21

Reviewed by M. E. Bailey

Bookm 52:302 Ja ’21 300w

+ Boston Transcript p6 Je 30 ’20 1200w
+ Cleveland p91 S ’20 20w

“‘The negro faces America’ is the best general survey yet written on
the negro in the United States. The book contains much fresh
material.” M. W. Ovington

+ Freeman 1:573 Ag 25 ’20 800w

“Besides reporting unanswerable facts Mr Seligmann gives us

excellent discussion of such questions as ‘social equality’ and sex
relationships.” O. G. V.

+ − Nation 112:121 Ja 26 ’21 890w

“Mr Seligmann has written an interesting book, a generous, ardent

piece of agitation, but its usefulness is greatly impaired by its failure
to make good upon the pretences of its arrangement. The issue as to
the evolutionary inferiority of the negro, which, if it was relevant at
all to his purpose, deserved thorough scientific presentation, is
superficially handled.” L. B. W.

+ − New Repub 24:151 O 6 ’20 800w

“Mr Seligmann is a vigorous writer, very journalistic, who interests

you by the rapid flow of his thought. He has considerable power in
arranging his facts, but he quotes and quotes and quotes.”

+ − N Y Times p19 Ag 8 ’20 500w

“The question is here discussed in an intelligent, fair-minded

manner.”

+ Outlook 125:507 Jl 14 ’20 70w

“His book should be read by those who wish to know what negroes
think and feel.” W: A. Aery

+ Survey 45:24 O 2 ’20 450w

Wis Lib Bul 16:232 D ’20 90w

SERAO, MATILDE. Souls divided; tr. from the

Italian by William Collinge. *$1.75 Brentano’s

20–7144
 “The telling of a story by means of a series of letters is a fictional
form which, though once exceedingly popular, is seldom used by
modern writers. This method is employed in the new volume by
Matilde Serao, the noted Italian writer. It is the hero, Paolo Ruffo,
who does all the letter-writing, the lady to whom all his passionate
epistles are addressed never replying to any one of them. She was an
orphan, Diana Sforza, eldest daughter of an ancient house, and
practically penniless. Gifted with a rarely lovely and very sympathetic
voice, she won Paolo Ruffo’s heart by her singing. For a year he
worshipped her, followed her about from place to place, and poured
out his heart to her in a long succession of most fervent letters. Then,
at last, utterly discouraged and broken, he left his native country,
accompanied by the faithful sister upon whose shoulder he had wept
more than once, and became a wanderer upon the face of the
earth.”—N Y Times

+ Cleveland p70 Ag ’20 80w

“‘Souls divided’ is probably a better novel than the translator has

managed to project, yet even with this allowance its theme and
substance tend toward emotional futility.”

− + Dial 68:399 Mr ’20 50w

“The story is like a pressed flower suddenly found in the pages of a

Lamartine. For a moment it gives you the nostalgia of the past. Then
it crumbles.” L. L.

+ Nation 110:sup488 Ap 10 ’20 200w

 “Though it is always difficult to judge of the style of a book read
only in translation, ‘Souls divided’ would seem to be very well
written. As far as its interest and its appeal to the reader are
concerned, these will depend largely upon whether that reader is or
is not a sentimental temperament.”

+ N Y Times 25:128 Mr 21 ’20 400w

Reviewed by H. W. Boynton

Review 2:434 Ap 24 ’20 540w

“The fact that the whole story, except the epilogue, is related in
Paolo’s letters to Diana is bound to give it an air of unreality, since he
is obliged to write her a detailed description of her own wedding. But
the southern passion of the letters, though it strikes one as a little
strained in our colder northern tongue, has a genuine ring about it,
and the lady reader who falls under its spell will readily forgive such
little improbabilities. The translation is above the average.”

+ − The Times [London] Lit Sup p689 N 27

’19 700w

SERGEANT, ELIZABETH SHEPLEY.

Shadow-shapes; the journal of a wounded woman,
October 1918–May 1919. *$2 Houghton 940.48

20–20217
 In this record of her hospital experiences the writer attempts to
envisage “a vast, embracing, unseizable truth that was essentially our
common possession. The heightened glow cast by danger and death
on the faces of the young, and its fading into the rather flat daylight
of survival; the psychological dislocation of armistice; the weariness
of reconstruction; the shift in Franco-American relations that
followed President Wilson’s intervention in European affairs; and
the place of American women in the adventures of the A. E. F.”
(Preface) The three parts of the book are: The wing of death; Pax in
bello; The city of confusion.

+ Booklist 17:149 Ja ’21

“It is, indeed, amazing that Miss Sergeant is able to make her
meagre details of vivid interest, but such is her art that she ably
succeeds in holding attention throughout the pages of this novel
journal.” C. K. H.

+ Boston Transcript p8 D 1 ’20 390w

“The book derives a unity from its synthesis of fragments—a shade

too clinical at times, but otherwise sharply realistic and delicately
expressed.”

+ Dial 70:232 F ’21 50w

+ Freeman 2:501 F 2 ’21 200w

“Books so concentrated, so vivid, and so sustained in their spiritual

excitement rarely get written.”
 + Nation 112:123 Ja 26 ’21 170w

“How readable ‘Shadow-shapes’ is, and what is more, how full of

feeling, of generosity, of the gold of human intercourse delicately
essayed, of difficult things bravely thought out, of fine things
appreciated, of good things described with sympathy, accuracy—this
quite outweighs in my impression of it that vast excess of the
sympathy over the accuracy, of the personal over the impersonal
which, artistically at least, is a serious fault.” R. L.

+ − New Repub 25:268 Ja 26 ’21 1100w

“Originality is a force everywhere, and Miss Sergeant’s ‘Shadow-

shapes’ is a very original volume. Miss Sergeant is an accomplished
stylist, her art conceals itself. Picture after picture rises before us, in
its very color, form and significance. If Miss Sergeant is supremely
sensitive to the drama of minds, she is no less sensitive to the beauty
of nature. Truly, every one should read this book.” Amy Lowell

+ N Y Times p10 N 14 ’20 3200w

“A book of fine perceptions, enriched by a background of feeling

and intelligence.”

+ Review 3:622 D 22 ’20 820w

“Miss Sergeant has done much more than give a vivid record of
hospital experiences. That indeed, although interesting, is the least
part of an unusual book. The figures which Miss Sergeant draws
from real life, frequently giving initials or only first names, are
extraordinarily vivid and human.”
 + Springf’d Republican p8a D 5 ’20 540w

Reviewed by E. B. Moses

+ Survey 45:547 Ja 8 ’21 130w

SETON-WATSON, ROBERT WILLIAM.

Europe in the melting pot. *$1.50 Macmillan 940.3

20–2792

“One of the most authoritative writers on eastern European

politics here brings together a series of important papers which he
has written during the war. For the most part they are reproduced
from The New Europe, the weekly review which he founded in 1916
to represent the policy of himself and of those who cooperated with
him. These embraced a league of nations, looking forward ultimately
to all-round disarmament; support of the Slav movement; an
advanced democratic programme for Russia; a federal solution for
the border nations; agrarian reform throughout eastern and
southern Europe; parliamentary control over foreign policy; equality
of treatment for big and small nations; ‘satisfied nationalism’ as ‘the
first essential preliminary to a new international order.’ A few of the
papers have appeared in the Round Table or the Contemporary
Review and one in the English Review. There are seven maps.”—The
Times [London] Lit Sup

Ath p1139 O 31 ’19 180w

 Boston Transcript p10 My 1 ’20 400w

“Especially well informed, competent, and obstinate in dealing

with southern Europe.”

+ Dial 68:668 My ’20 50w

“The book is the work of a historian at grips with reality, and has
the stamp of the best qualities of political writing.” N. C.

+ Int J Ethics 30:345 Ap ’20 180w

“The author’s history merely records diplomatic and military

events. Of history as a series of processes, dependent mainly on
regional economics and national tradition, he shows little
conception.”

− Sat R 129:412 My 1 ’20 1200w

“His treatment of the Adriatic question in this volume seems to us

unfortunate, especially in regard to Fiume.”

+ − Spec 123:623 N 8 ’19 200w

The Times [London] Lit Sup p595 O 23
’19 180w

“They are an excellent illustration of the best kind of political

writing, viz., the application of genuine knowledge and settled
principles to the immediate situation which from time to time
presents itself.”

+ The Times [London] Lit Sup p682 N 27

’19 1300w

SEWALL, MRS MAY (WRIGHT). Neither

dead nor sleeping; introd. by Booth Tarkington.
*$2.50 Bobbs 134

20–8214

“There is a peculiar difference between Mrs Sewall’s

communications with the world beyond and most of those with
which the public is familiar through books without number. For she
says that she found the discarnate spirits, urged and led by that of
her husband, anxious to give her help and direction. The whole of
Mrs Sewall’s nearly 300 pages is filled with the continuous, detailed,
personal story of her intimate association and communication with
these spirits. There is not much about conditions of life with them, as
there usually is in books of this kind, but its place is taken instead by
her account of what they did for her, what they taught her, and what
she learned of their anxiety to help human beings. Their efforts in
her behalf were mainly inspired, she says, by their wish to make it
possible for her to give their message to humanity.”—N Y Times

“Strains certain tenets of temperate spiritualism but is brightly

written and replete with interest.”

+ Booklist 17:50 N ’20

 N Y Times 25:18 Jl 4 ’20 300w

“The story is told with such full detail and sincerity, all resting, too,
on the character of a woman so widely and favorably known, as to
make on any reader a profound impression.” Lilian Whiting

+ Springf’d Republican p11a Jl 18 ’20

1000w

SEYMOUR, HARRIET AYER. What music can

do for you; a guide for the uninitiated. *$2 Harper
780

20–22166

The author holds that we need a new scheme of education which

will be based upon the idea that man is his own salvation, that within
himself are all the possibilities for harmony and growth. The new
education must furnish the stimulus that will awaken this larger self.
This stimulus is music and in this sense music is no longer a luxury
but a necessity. Contents: Awakening to life through music; Melody,
rhythm, and harmony; Melody; Rhythm; Harmony; Music for
children; Practicing; Technique; Music for grown-ups; Phonographs
and pianolas; Music and health; The philosophy of music. The
appended bibliography contains three groups of book: books on
psychology taking cognizance of music; biographies and books on
music. There is also a list of phonograph records chosen from the
catalogue of the Columbia Graphophone Company.
 SEYMOUR, WILLIAM KEAN, ed. Miscellany
of British poetry, 1919. *$2 Harcourt 821.08

A20–533

“This ‘Miscellany of poetry, 1919,’ is issued to the public as a truly

catholic anthology of contemporary poetry. The poems here printed
are new, in the sense that they have not previously been issued by
their authors in book form.” (Prefatory note) Among the contributors
are: Laurence Binyon; Gilbert K. Chesterton; William H. Davies;
John Drinkwater; Wilfrid Wilson Gibson; Theodore Maynard; Edith
Sitwell; and Alec Waugh. There are decorations by Doris Palmer.

“Mr Seymour is to be congratulated on having brought together

what is on the whole a very interesting collection of verse. The list of
contributors on the cover is in itself reassuring, and when we read
the book we find that almost all of them are worthily represented.”

+ Ath p94 Ja 16 ’20 180w

+ Booklist 16:235 Ap ’20
Dial 68:538 Ap ’20 60w
Nation 110:855 Je 26 ’20 180w

“Chesterton’s St Barbara ballad contains touches as magical as his

Lepanto, although the sustained flight does not equal the earlier
chant. Lawrence Binyon is represented by verses full of magic,
Davies is his own naive self, Drinkwater is faultless and polished,
Edith Sitwell is whimsically delightful, Muriel Stuart is sharply
dramatic, and, best of all, W. W. Gibson appears in verses equal to
his best.” Clement Wood
 + N Y Call p10 Je 20 ’20 900w

“To sum up, Mr Seymour’s book can be recommended to those

who already possess collections of contemporary poetry in which
poets of more modern temper are represented, or to those
reactionaries who will read nothing but the most conservative verse.”
Marguerite Williams

+ N Y Times p24 Ag 22 ’20 360w

“Mr Seymour has not exercised, or indeed sought to exercise, the

faintest critical faculty in forming his collection.”

− + Sat R 129:391 Ap 24 ’20 950w

“There is a wholesome (one means esthetically, not morally

wholesome) departure from the preciosity, the fine-spun, over-
intellectual, finically phrased impressionism that was, in prewar
days, the distinctly Georgian note.”

+ Springf’d Republican p10 Je 22 ’20

150w
The Times [London] Lit Sup p23 Ja 8
’20 100w
+ Yale R n s 10:201 O ’20 140w

SHACKLETON, SIR ERNEST HENRY. South.

new ed il *$6 (4½c) Macmillan 919.9
 20–1604

The book is the story of Shackleton’s last expedition, 1914–1917,

undertaken to achieve the first crossing of the Antarctic continent. It
failed in its object, owing to the loss of one of its ships, but, says the
author: “The struggles, the disappointments, and the endurance of
this small party of Britishers, hidden away for nearly two years in the
fastnesses of the polar ice, striving to carry out the ordained task and
ignorant of the crisis through which the world was passing, make a
story which is unique in the history of Antarctic exploration.”
(Preface) Contents: Into the Weddell sea; New land; Winter months;
Loss of the Endurance; Ocean camp; The march between; Patience
camp; Escape from the ice; The boat journey; Across South Georgia;
The rescue; Elephant island; The Ross sea party; Wintering in
McMurdo sound; Laying the depots; The Aurora’s drift; The last
relief; The final phase. The appendices contain: Scientific work; Sea-
ice nomenclature; Meteorology; Physics; South Atlantic whales and
whaling; The expedition huts at McMurdo sound. There are eighty-
eight illustrations and diagrams and an index.

“The volume is extremely well illustrated.”

+ Ath p1304 D 5 ’19 40w

+ Ath p76 Ja 16 ’20 1100w
+ Booklist 16:201 Mr ’20

“Sir Ernest Shackleton’s new book adds another to those priceless

records of high human quality, and the story that it tells, aside from
its scientific value, will have many readers who will find its pages
enthralling and deeply moving.”
 + N Y Times 25:42 Ja 25 ’20 1500w
+ Outlook 124:291 F 18 ’20 200w

“Few modern authors have so effectively utilized the pent-up force

of sturdy Anglo-Saxon monosyllables.” Philip Tillinghast

+ Pub W 97:607 F 21 ’20 480w

+ R of Rs 61:448 Ap ’20 260w

“Sir Ernest Shackleton’s book is written in a vigorous style.”

+ Spec 123:862 D 20 ’19 1100w

“The story of the voyage that six men made in an open boat across
eight hundred miles of the roughest water in the world, to bring relief
to the twenty-two companions who remained on the island, rivals the
best sea tale ever written. It is good for any one to read such a
narrative as ‘South!’ We see what men may be.”

+ Springf’d Republican p11a Mr 7 ’20 2500w

“The story is told simply, for the most part without much passion;
but there is no need for that to hold our interest. This book, and
many another like it, are written for the general reader; and the
general reader (who would not read a scientific treatise if it were set
before him) is rather prone to forget the scientific aspects of polar
exploration. Sir Ernest Shackleton yields, perhaps too far, to this
consideration.”
 + The Times [London] Lit Sup p683 N 27
’19 1250w

SHACKLETON, ROBERT. Book of Chicago. il

*$3.50 Penn 917.7

20–19424

“To Chicago goes Mr Shackleton, after having exhausted New

York, Boston, and Philadelphia. The Art institute, the clubs, the
theatres, the elevated, the freight subway and the river all come in for
his inspection, and Mr Shackleton has apparently gone over, under,
around and through Chicago with a thoroughness that not many of
its citizens would care to duplicate. Anon, he varies a charming style
by telling stories, and by gallant attempts to rake up some worth-
while poetry that has been written concerning the city.”—Boston
Transcript

Booklist 17:151 Ja ’21

+ Bookm 52:367 Ja ’21 120w

“For each matter which Mr Shackleton has not set down, there are
a dozen that he has. Mr Shackleton is always interesting.” G. M. H.

+ Boston Transcript p2 N 24 ’20 600w

+ Outlook 126:690 D 15 ’20 70w