One Immortal Derek & Melissa

Tia Louise

TLM Productions LLC

Contents

One Immortal

Dedication

Copyright

1. An Encounter

2. Craving

3. Groundwork

4. The Old One

5. Tasting

6. Complications

7. Special Forces

8. Betrayals

9. Discoveries

10. Options

11. Change of Plans

12. All of Me

13. The Hunted

14. Clues

15. Confrontation

16. Changes

17. Find a Way

18. Moving On

19. Revenge

20. Give and Take

Epilogue: Little Gypsy

Your opinion counts!

Thank You for Reading!

Extra! Extra!

Books by Tia Louise

One to Leave

One to Keep

Acknowledgments

About the Author

One Immortal by Tia Louise

Derek & Melissa

Melissa is a vampire; Derek is a vampire hunter.

When beautiful, sad Melissa Jones flees to New Orleans with her telepathic best friend, she is looking for a cure—not an erotic encounter with a sexy former Marine.

Derek Alexander left the military intending to become a private investigator, but with two powerful shifters as partners and an immunity to vampire glamour, he instead rose to the top in paranormal justice.

At a bar on Bourbon Street, Derek and Melissa cross paths, and their sexual chemistry is off the charts. Acting on their feelings, they are pulled deeper into an affair, but Melissa is hiding, hoping to escape her cruel maker.

It doesn't take long before the shifters uncover her secret. Still, Derek is determined to confront the Old One and reclaim her mortality—even at the risk of losing his.

A STANDALONE PARANORMAL ROMANCE with an HEA based on characters from the One to Hold series. Contains voluptuous vampires, alluring alpha military heroes, scorching-hot shifters, beguiling witches, and panty-melting sexy times. Keep the fans nearby... Readers 18 and older only, please.

To all my Derek & Melissa fans, and to

everyone who loves a sexy thriller as much as I do!

As always, to Mr. TL, my One.

If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or win it from an author-sponsored giveaway, this book has been pirated. Please delete it from your device, and support the author by purchasing a legal copy from one of its many distributors.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

One Immortal

Copyright © TLM Productions LLC, 2015

Printed in the United States of America.

Cover design by Steven Novak, Novak Illustration.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, photocopying, mechanical, or otherwise—without prior permission of the publisher and author.

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1

An Encounter Derek

My search for the vampire has led me home.

It’s been six years since I walked the streets of New Orleans—the hot, moldering streets of this historic city time forgot. How well I know these ancient buildings stubbornly hanging on centuries after Napoleon left, the dark green vines climbing every stationary object. The air is heavy with music and spices, mystery and decay.

I’ll need a day to get used to the climate, another to ease back into the smooth-talking, greased-palm way of getting information. The little wink and a smile, the lazy request accented with a darling or a cher. Even among the undead, it’s all about the sugar in the Crescent City.

My phone blips, and I quickly pull it out of my pocket. Patrick Knight, my new partner, is checking in from our offices in New Jersey.

Any signs of nonlife?

He’s always one with the jokes.

Not yet. I reply. I’ll alert you if anything appears.

He doesn’t miss a beat.

Or doesn’t.

Shaking my head, I slip the thin black phone into my pocket. When Patrick first joined his older brother Stuart and me in Alexander-Knight LLC, I thought on more than one occasion we’d made a mistake. As the weeks have passed, however, I’ve come to appreciate his subculture contacts, and his knack for turning up fresh leads on stale cases. It helps that he has extrasensory abilities.

The Knights come from a long line of shifters—their preferred form being large-breed dogs, although I once saw Stuart shift into a grizzly. In human form, we’re all around the same height, six-foot-give-or take-a-few-inches, but while I release my tension in the weight room, the Knights prefer working out between the sheets. One thing about shifters, they’re horny as hell.

The result is I outweigh them by at least thirty pounds of straight muscle. Still, I’m no match against the undead on my own. My special gifts are my training and my weaponry. If I’m outnumbered, it’s best to have an oversized lycan at my side.

On the books, I’m a private investigator and occasional Law Enforcement Online instructor at Princeton University. Much further off the books, in the deep background, I’m one of the top three paranormal detectives in the States, specializing in vampires. When I started I was one of four, but sadly, in this line of work, the fatalities are quick and untraceable. As such, we’ve established regions. New Orleans is not mine.

Only two people know why I’m here, and it’s not because I don’t respect our rules. I’m here because this time it’s personal. An Old One is at work in the city, and from what Patrick’s been able to flush out, it appears to be the one I’ve sought for a long time.

I’m taking a big chance coming here alone, but I have one more secret—I’m immune to vampire glamour. Acting alone, it’s possible I’ll catch the killer off-guard. Still, if I’m detected, at least I won’t be hypnotized.

Settling in at the dim-lit Korner Bar, I survey the patrons. College girls clearly looking to get wasted and get laid twist and giggle on the dance floor. Their shiny slip dresses barely cover their asses, and they lick their lips while tossing back their hair, leaving their necks and arms wide open and vulnerable.

One might expect the undead to favor a more historic spot like Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, or the subculture atmosphere of Oz. One would be wrong. Vampires like the easy kill, the kill that goes down without a fight or that is readily subdued. These women are prime targets.

I consider the foolishness of youth when my eyes land on her. She’s alone at the bar, nursing a Sazerac. Her eyes are sad, and while she’s young and beautiful, her expression is world-weary. Long, dark hair ripples over one shoulder, and I can’t resist the pull of curiosity. She’s far too elegant for this bar. It’s almost as if she’s hiding.