About the book

Ashlyn Thorn was born different. Born with all the characteristics of a vampire, she lives in a world where vampires, elves, and werewolves work, play, and die side by side with normal humans. But everyone knows vampires aren’t born, they’re made. The only thing she wants is to know her true origins.

Ashlyn’s quest to discover the truth of her differences is all that matters. But with every answer, she uncovers more uncertainties. To make things worse she has found herself an enemy of the most powerful vampires of the city who fear her powers are too dangerous to let go unchecked.

Salvation comes at the hands of the government, or does it, who trains her in the ways that best serve their purposes. Ashlyn is torn between two worlds. She can either be a monster, or she can help destroy the monsters.

An excerpt from the book

Prologue

Mary Elizabeth Thorn sighed as she layered the final stroke of her thirteenth coat of blood paint. The smell assaulted her nose and made her stomach turn. The combination of milk, lime, and blood became almost too much for her to bear. If she had chosen to summon a creature of light, the milk and lime would have sufficed, but in order to summon a demon, blood had to be spilt. The tome she had spent most of her savings on had been very specific.

She checked the lines of the pentagram painted on the marble tile she had laid herself in the center of the room and a smile formed on her lips. They lay perfectly straight with no overlapping of the perfect circle enclosing it, and now for the runes. This task made the others pale in comparison. The runes couldn't be painted on; they had to be cut from the paint itself. She grimaced at the pain in her knees as she rose from the cold floor beneath her and strode to the large bench against the wall of her work room.

The tome rested in its familiar place of honor at the very center of her altar and worktable. She remembered building it oh so many years ago. Each copper nail driven with love, each board cut perfectly by hand without power tools, the blood, the sweat, and the tears that completed the dark recipe. Mary Elizabeth had chosen to follow the tenants of earth magery, but had succumbed to the promise of power only a summoner could deliver.

She gingerly picked up the silver carving tool and went to the northern point of the star, knelt down and began her grueling task. Hours passed as she carved the intricate runes into the face of the blood paint without scoring the marble. Only that level of precision could contain the demon, a perfect plane of marble below and the power of the runes around to encase the evil within.

The tome, having been written in ages past, bore only one flaw. When it had been penned, tiles of marble hadn't even been a fleeting thought in the minds of early masons. The tome called for a slab of marble to contain the spell.

* * *

Asmodeus sat on his throne and listened to the call. It had been many years since he had heard its ilk. While it had not been meant for him he heard it none the less. Asmodeus had fought many wars and answered countless challengers to be Lord of this Realm and as such obtained the power to answer any summons meant for his minions. He laughed at the feebleness of the call and plucked it from the air and held it in his mighty claw. He thought about tossing it away, then thought better. It had been eons since he had been allowed to cause havoc upon the mortal plane. Boredom overcame good sense and he traveled down the line of the summons.

He appeared in a blast of fire and smoke and looked around at his surroundings. Smells of blood, milk, lime, and spices assaulted his demonic senses. He lowered his gaze and noticed the small human woman staring at his greatness with fear and respect. He stood motionless and assessed the woman. She bore the marks of beauty as far as humans went, but the lack of horns and wings he found disappointing. He snorted as she stood and watched her walk to the edge of the circle.

"I have summoned you, vile beast, to do my bidding. What say you?" He could hear the fear in her voice as it infused her words with a perfume more enticing than the blood infused paint she had drawn her pentagram with.

Asmodeus glanced down at the circle cast thirteen times and found no flaw. An emotion akin to panic flashed through his mind. Never before had he seen its equal, and if he found himself truly trapped, he might be forced to answer the whims of the pitiful creature before him. Then he noticed the marble beneath him.

He looked up at the human and smiled. Lifting his taloned foot up to the level of his knee, he brought its mass down in one fell swoop. He laughed when he felt the marble shatter. He laughed harder when he saw the face of the human summoner. He felt the fear of his new toy.