Free The Last True Vampire by Kate Baxter

been through?”
    Ronan’s words tempered Michael’s ire. He fixed Ronan with a solemn expression. “Is it not what you desire?”
    Ronan let out a heavy sigh. “Of course it is. I’ve only asked you for this favor for decades. And now that you have the means to give it to me, why shouldn’t I want it?”
    Why indeed? It was Ronan’s birthright, after all. He had a warrior’s heart and strength. Surely he would endure the transition with little difficulty. Michael knew from experience what it was, to feel so unfinished. Incomplete. And only one creature on the face of the earth could give him the gift that would turn him into what he was born to be.
    A vampire.
    It was a gift of strength that only the worthy received. The transition—even for a dhampir—was brutal. Violent. And the sacrifice—that of one’s own soul—wasn’t something to be considered lightly. Knowing that it could be decades, millennia, before he found the female who would tether him didn’t seem to matter to Ronan. Neither did the fact that none of the dhampirs Michael had attempted to turn over the past century had survived the process. But things were different now. If Michael could find his mate and sustain his strength, he was certain Ronan would survive. He was too damned stubborn to die. If anything, he would survive the change just to prove a point. Michael appreciated the male’s tenacity. He was more than worthy.
    “If we find her,” Michael said, “I will turn you. I give you my word.”
    “ When, ” Ronan stressed. “When we find her.”
    In addition to having tenacity, Ronan was an optimistic fool. “ When we find her. I swear.”
    “Well then. Let’s get our asses in gear.”
    Ronan deserved to be turned. So many dhampirs did. And Michael made a silent vow that he wouldn’t rest until he found the female. And resurrected the vampire race.

 
    CHAPTER
    6
    Claire’s shift had been brutal. A steady stream of customers all day, which was great for the diner but not so great for her. She’d almost reconsidered going out, but the looming threat of eviction sent her out in search of easy money. Good lord, she was tired. Her final—for real this time—night of hustling had proved to be fruitful, though she’d violated one of her own rules by hitting a place she’d already been to.
    She’d made enough to cover rent and then some in just two games. Grocery store, here I come!
    Claire walked out of the pool hall and stared across the street at Diablo’s bloodred sign. It was slow for a Monday night, the horde of weekend partiers absent from the sidewalk outside. As though her feet moved on her own, they took Claire across the street. She was not going in. A couple brushed past her on their way to the entrance, and she took a step to the side, craning her neck to get a glimpse inside the club before the doors closed. Just because he’d been there once didn’t mean he’d be there again. Which was why she wasn’t going inside.
    “The cover’s twenty bucks tonight.”
    Not exactly sure how she’d gotten from the sidewalk to the entrance, Claire looked up at the guy holding open the door. If she wasn’t going in, why was she handing him a twenty? He grabbed her hand and stamped her wrist, leaving behind a red pitchfork that stood out against her pale skin.
    Okay, so she was going in. But just for a second.
    The place was considerably less hectic than it had been three nights ago. The clientele a little less highbrow. Claire ordered a five-dollar Coke— what a rip-off —so she wouldn’t look like a complete freak and also to give her hands something to do so she wouldn’t fidget. Because right now she was as jumpy as a grasshopper in a field of tall grass. What would she do if she saw him? Just march right up and say, “Hey, remember me? Probably not, because you were absolutely loaded, but I just wanted to let you know that you gave me the best orgasm of my life. Oh, and I’m pretty sure I’m obsessed with you.