{"product_id":"dark-legacy-isbn-9780399584015","title":"Dark Legacy","description":"\u003cb\u003eIn a thrilling Carpathian novel from #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Christine Feehan, a woman fights to free herself from the grip of the vampire trying to possess her...\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In a beautiful compound hidden away from the world, Emeline Sanchez tries to blunt the pain that has wracked her body ever since her terrifying ordeal in the labyrinth beneath the city—when she was forced to exchange blood with an evil master vampire. \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Now, it’s his voice that haunts her...that calls to her in the dark...that never lets her rest. And while the children that she helped to free from his clutches struggle to heal, watched over by their Carpathian protectors, Emeline knows one thing: She must sacrifice herself to keep them all from harm...\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e For her beauty is irresistible to the vampires, her psychic ability like a drug. Whipped into a frenzy, they’ll never stop coming for her. And only the taste of one Carpathian warrior—the rush of his blood—can save her...\u003cb\u003ePraise for Christine Feehan and her Carpathian novels\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “The erotic, gripping series that has defined an entire genre. I love everything she does.”—J. R. Ward\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “The queen of paranormal romance.”—\u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “After Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Joss Whedon (who created the venerated \u003ci\u003eBuffy the Vampire Slayer\u003c\/i\u003e), Christine Feehan is the person most credited with popularizing the neck gripper.”—\u003ci\u003eTime\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Feehan has a knack for bringing vampiric Carpathians to vivid, virile life in her Dark Carpathian novels.”—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Red-hot romance and great storytelling…a treat you can’t refuse…Thrill-a-minute fantasy with complex characters and a story that captivates from beginning to end.”—Fresh Fiction\u003cb\u003eChristine Feehan\u003c\/b\u003e is the #1\u003ci\u003e New York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of the Carpathian series (\u003ci\u003eDark Carousel\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eDark Promises\u003c\/i\u003e), the GhostWalker series (\u003ci\u003ePower Game\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eSpider Game\u003c\/i\u003e), the Leopard series (\u003ci\u003eLeopard’s Fury\u003c\/i\u003e,\u003ci\u003e Wild Cat\u003c\/i\u003e), the Sea Haven series (\u003ci\u003eBound Together, Fire Bound\u003c\/i\u003e) and the Shadow series (\u003ci\u003eShadow Reaper\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eShadow Rider\u003c\/i\u003e).1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline Sanchez watched the children playing in the large play      yard directly across from her little Victorian home. She liked      sitting outside on the wide, wraparound porch where the wind could      touch her face. Sometimes, that small touch was the only relief      she got from the relentless pain winding through her body every      minute of the night and day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Rain had given the air a clean, fresh scent. The world looked      shiny and new, every leaf on the trees a vivid green or silver.      Small birds sang to one another, hopping from tree branches to      gnarled limbs. They were bright red spots of color, adding to the      beauty of the compound. The property was owned by Tariq Asenguard,      co-owner of a string of high-end nightclubs. He had a unique piece      of property, and she would have loved to live there if things had      been different. Tariq was Carpathian, an ancient race with amazing      gifts, but they needed to drink blood to survive. She knew they      were forced to sleep in the ground during daylight hours and only      came out at night. If they didn't find their lifemate in time,      many succumbed to the temptation to feel by becoming the vilest of      creatures-vampire.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Emeline.\" A tall woman with long, dark hair and forest green eyes      waved at her from the play yard. \"It's a beautiful day.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Genevieve Marten was gorgeous. Model thin. Tall with long legs      that went on forever. Dressed in slim jeans and leather boots, she      looked far too elegant, even in that attire, to be playing nanny      to five children. Emeline knew Genevieve was independently wealthy      and had traveled the world, yet she was as sweet as anyone could      be, and she'd taken on the job of looking after the children when      Tariq and Charlotte couldn't. Emeline was certain Genevieve didn't      have a mean bone in her body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It is, isn't it?\" she called back. For that one moment, Emeline      felt normal, like she had a friend and they shared a joyous moment      just because it was such a beautiful day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As she waved, a long tangle of blue-black hair fell around her      face and she pushed it back, vaguely thinking she was going to      have to cut it soon. She'd always loved her hair, the one feature      she thought was attractive about her. But it fell below her waist,      and she was just too exhausted to take proper care of it. Merely      lifting her arms to brush it, much less wash it, was becoming a      terrible chore. She sighed and rested her chin on the heel of her      hand, her eyes on the five children running.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She loved watching the children. She didn't really know true      happiness anymore, but the closest she came was at times like      this, observing them playing and laughing, seemingly carefree and      happy. They were alive because of her deliberate sacrifice. The      sound of their laughter, seeing them on swings and slides and      doing normal things, was worth every horrific moment she'd      suffered. They were alive. Traumatized, yes, but still alive and      hopefully recovering very quickly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Come join us,\" Genevieve called.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline wanted to join them. She even needed to, but she couldn't      take the chance. She didn't think Genevieve would turn on her, but      there were others . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm drinking tea,\" she said. \"You should join me. I baked      cookies.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The children had become aware she was out on her porch, something      she often did during the daylight hours, even in the middle of a      violent storm, but never at night. At night, she stayed in the      house, her heart beating too hard, terrified he would come for      her. She knew Vadim was coming, it was only a matter of time. He      whispered to her sometimes, when she wasn't strong enough to keep      him out of her head. Those times were becoming more and more      frequent. Emeline often had prophetic dreams. She could replay      them over and over, changing small details in an effort to change      the outcome of what occurred. Vadim had found her in those dreams,      he had found a way to trap her and capture her. She escaped, but      he was still with her in her mind now, impossible to get out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Emeline!\" the chorus of voices called to her. Happy.      Affectionate. Although she rarely left her porch, they knew she      had their backs. She'd saved them more than once at a great cost      to herself. They weren't fully aware of that expense, and she      hoped they never would be. They were too young to bear any more      burdens than they already did.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Swing with us, Em,\" Danny called. At fifteen, he was tall and      gangly, his form just beginning to show the promise of who he      would become. Emeline knew he had great courage, as well as love      for his siblings. He'd kept them together after their parents had      died, and when the girls were taken by the monstrous men down in      the labyrinth beneath the city, he had gone after them. She      couldn't help but admire Danny.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not right now, but I have a plate full of warm chocolate chip      cookies. And, Genevieve, I also have fresh cranberry and pistachio      biscotti dipped in white chocolate.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Tariq Asenguard had taken the children in, become a foster parent      of sorts, until the adoptions came through, protecting them with      his friends and unique security system-just as he protected her.      Emeline was grateful to him, but she knew she couldn't stay much      longer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Danny raced to the porch, leaned down and brushed the top of her      head with a kiss, scooped up a handful of cookies and was back at      the swings before either three-year-old, Lourdes or Bella, could      protest. Bella was his youngest sister. Lourdes was the orphaned      niece of Tariq's wife, Charlotte.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thanks, Em!\" Danny yelled, stuffing one into his mouth whole. \"So      good.\" Both little girls immediately held out their hand for one,      and Danny obliged them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Despite his youth, Danny watched over his family with a fierce      protectiveness. He was equally as protective of little Lourdes,      Emeline, and Emeline's best friend, Blaze. They'd helped him when      he thought everything was lost. He was a smart boy, indescribably      brave, and he'd begun to emulate the Carpathian males who'd taken      them all in. His hair was a little too long, because he was      growing it so he could pull it back in a long ponytail like the      Carpathian males often wore. He admired Tariq and even walked like      him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They'd been orphans living on the streets, trying to stay      together, when the girls had been taken. Danny had refused to give      up on his sisters and had gone after them, down into the      underbelly of the city-a huge labyrinth of tunnels and rooms, a      city below the city. Emeline shivered at the memory. She tried      very hard not to think about it, to close the door on the horrors      of what had been down there. She first encountered Danny in a      dream and then, later, in reality when his sisters had been taken.      Despite knowing what would happen to her, she had aided him in      ensuring the safety of the girls. She'd seen her fate enough times      in dreams, but someone had to get the children out or they would      have died in that murky, stench-filled place of nightmares.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She understood street children; she'd been one herself and she      knew how much they craved the stability of a close family. She      looked around the huge complex, with the buildings, gardens and      lake bordering one side, the high fence surrounding the property      on the other three sides, and all the amenities the acreage      offered. It was still a prison. No matter how beautiful, none of      them could safely leave. Not even the children. Maybe especially      the children.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Cranberry and pistachio biscotti?\" Genevieve put her book down.      She'd gone to the bench under the tall oak where she could keep an      eye on the children. \"You made them?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This morning,\" Emeline enticed. She wanted Genevieve's company.      She needed to feel normal even if it was just for a few minutes.      Sometimes, if her focus changed, she could resist the pain longer,      not be afraid for just a few minutes and pretend that she would      have a life like everyone else. She needed that today-one of the      reasons she'd spent all morning baking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You can ride my dragon,\" Amelia offered. She was fourteen, her      body already developing into that of a woman's. Her hair was thick      and often tousled from her continual roughhousing with her      brother. She had beautiful eyes and a killer smile. Emeline adored      her and the way she loved her sisters and brother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline knew it was huge to get an offer to ride one of the      dragons. Made of stone, the five dragons-each with a unique      color-sat off to one side of the play yard. They looked as if they      were statues, just that. Nothing else. Emeline knew that each      dragon had been made specifically for one of the children. For      their amusement, yes, but mostly for protection. The dragons,      crouched so lifelike in the massive yard, could suddenly come to      life, spread wings and fly as well as breathe fire. Amelia's      dragon was a striking orange and she loved it dearly. Emeline      often saw her whispering to it, or circling the long neck with her      arm and nuzzling it with affection.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline sighed. She detested disappointing the children,      especially Amelia or Liv, the ten-year-old, but she didn't dare      chance leaving the porch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'd love to ride your dragon, Amelia. He's beautiful, but I'm      enjoying just sitting here, drinking tea and watching all of you.\"      That was strictly the truth. \"Come get some cookies. I don't know      if dragons like them, but you can feed him one and tell him it's      from me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia giggled and crossed the yard to the house at a much more      demure pace than her brother. The Victorian was a smaller replica      of the much larger one that was Tariq and Charlotte's home. That      house loomed in the background, just beyond the play yard. Emeline      always enjoyed looking at it as well. Tariq's main home was a      sprawling mansion with the classic semicircular arches, corbel      gables, rock-faced square towers, archivolt and transom windows in      a ribbon pattern, all classic Richardsonian Romanesque.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Water from the lake lapped lazily at the shore. The sun poured      down into it, so that droplets disturbed by fish and birds      appeared as dazzling diamonds dripping into the water, causing      beautiful rings that spread across the surface. Emeline always      found peace in the sound of the water moving. Sometimes she wished      she was like Blaze or Charlotte, no longer human but Carpathian,      the ancient race of people capable of amazing things. With a wave      of their hands they could move water, make it dance, keep that      soothing sound up so she could concentrate on it rather than the      pain racking her body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia threw herself into the chair across from Emeline's. She      caught up a cookie and leaned forward. \"Em, you do know if there's      anything at all I could do for you, I'd do it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e God. She loved the children. They were all so amazing. Every last      one of them. She was grateful she'd made the decision to go into      that labyrinth, the chambers of utter horror, to get them out. She      refused to regret that decision, no matter the price she had to      pay-and she was paying it every single minute of the day. She      forced a reassuring smile. \"I know I look awful, Amelia, but I'm      getting better.\" That was a lie. The pain was getting worse. Pain      and fear. She kept a close eye on the sky. Sunset was fast      approaching and she'd go immediately into the house once the sun      dropped out of the sky.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No, you're not,\" Amelia whispered. \"You're not, Emeline. Please      let Tariq or one of the others help you. A couple of the scariest      ones are good healers.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline couldn't help the automatic withdrawal, the way her body      went smaller. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could      cloak her body, make herself invisible. The ancient race could      heal. She'd seen it. She wanted to be able to go to them and ask      for help. Anything at all to stop the pain. She shook her head.      \"I'm fine. I don't need them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Are you afraid of them? I'd go with you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia reached out and touched her wrist and followed the line of      bruising up to her elbow. Her touch was light, but it still hurt.      Emeline forced herself to remain still. Amelia had been      traumatized by the events in the underground city. She didn't need      to worry about Emeline when there was nothing she could do.      Emeline wanted her to be a child, although, realistically, she      knew there was no going back for Amelia.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's such a beautiful day, isn't it? I love the rain, but this is      gorgeous, everything fresh and shimmering new.\" She kept her voice      light as she casually reached for her teacup, the action giving      her a legitimate reason for moving her arm out of reach. When she      settled the teacup back into its saucer, she put her hand in her      lap, surreptitiously tugging on the sleeve to cover the bruising.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia opened her mouth as if she might say something, but in the      end, she just took a bite of the cookie. \"These are still warm.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Right? They're so good. I love them with ice cream.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia scooped up three more. \"My dragon's going to love these      just like they are. Thanks. Any time you want a ride, let me know,      and if you need me, Em, I'll come stay with you.\" Her gaze dropped      to Emeline's bruised arm, not that she could see the      discoloration, but she knew it was there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thanks, honey,\" Emeline said, fighting the burn of tears. \"Go      have fun with your dragon.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Amelia hesitated, standing awkwardly in front of her, then she      leaned down and brushed a kiss across her forehead. \"You're      important, too, Em. To all of us. You know that, don't you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Emeline tightened her arms around her middle, holding it together      by a mere thread. She was going to have to risk leaving the      compound to ensure Amelia's-and the other children's-safety. She      knew when she made the decision to leave that she probably      wouldn't survive. \"Thank you, Amelia. Sometimes, I guess, we all      need a reminder.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She wasn't as important as the children. They deserved a life, and      they'd never had it. They were street children, living from one      garbage can to another, the older ones stealing to provide for the      younger ones. Huddling together to keep warm in the worst of      winter. Here, in Tariq Asenguard's compound with the wealthy      Carpathian as their guardian, she knew they finally had a home.      She couldn't endanger them by drawing the worst evil imaginable to      them.","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300805005541,"sku":"NP9780399584015","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780399584015.jpg?v=1767724514","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/dark-legacy-isbn-9780399584015","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}