Table Of ContentPublished by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Alliance in Blood Copyright © 2008 Ariel Tachna
Cover Art by Dan Skinner/Cerberus Inc. [email protected]
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information
storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where
permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at:
4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
ISBN: 978-0-9815084-9-8
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
May, 2008
eBook edition available in Adobe PDF, MobiPocket and MS Reader formats.
To Dawn, the first of my adopted sisters, who befriended me when I
had no one else and encouraged my writing when no one else cared.
She’s read everything I’ve ever written, even when she disagrees with
me over the content.
To Glynda, without whom I would never have resumed this journey
into writing. Only she could manage to wring 689 pages out of a two
page set piece.
To Emmet and George who ate lunch with me, brainstormed with me
(called me a serial killer) and generally made me believe I could do
this. Slash me up, baby!
To Nancy, who spent untold hours holding my hand as we
brainstormed, revised, proofed and otherwise polished this story.
Without her, it would never have been written.
To my other adopted sisters, Holly, Connie, Cat, Carol, Madeleine,
Gwen, and Julianne, who read and reread and edit and encourage.
Without you, this dream would never have come to pass.
Author’s Note
Some stories come from a wealth of experience, real or in the pages of
books. And some stories come from some unknown wellspring of
creativity for which there is no explanation.
I can very proudly state that I’ve never read a vampire story. Not Anne
Rice, not Laurel K. Hamilton, not Bram Stoker. The closest I’ve ever
come was a monologue I read in seventh grade called “Dress of White
Silk.” So when a friend of mine issued me a challenge to write a
supernatural story, I shrugged and agreed, figuring it would be witches
of the Old Salem variety. Those were my supernatural loves. And then
I went to sleep, and woke up the next morning with three incredibly
vivid images. A meeting in a cemetery at midnight, a pitched battle in
which lovers were reunited, and another cemetery scene at dawn.
Those three images wouldn’t leave me alone. Never mind that I was
writing two other novel length stories at the time, plus working full
time. They didn’t care. They just wanted to be written. So I wrote,
and handed it to my friend and first reader, Emmet, who handed it back
to me and told me that while it was all very important information, I’d
put my reader to sleep if I started the novel that way. He was right, of
course. He has a distressing habit of being right. So I started over, and
within a few days, had the first four chapters written. By that time, I’d
come to the conclusion that I wasn’t looking at a novel, but at a series.
I’m one of those people who believes in doing her research. When I
was working out a setting for the story, I chose Paris because it was the
only capital city I knew well enough to describe. I knew nothing about
vampires, though, so I sent the story to a friend who devours vampire
fiction and asked her where I needed to go to get more information.
She read what I’d written and told me I wasn’t allowed to look at
anyone’s vampire fiction until I was done with the series because my
vampires were unique in her experience and she didn’t want to see that
get lost, so even after living and breathing vampires for three years, I
still haven’t read a vampire story other than my own.
Anyone who’s talked with me about writing knows my definition of a
short story is a little skewed. For me, anything under 20,000 words is
short, and many of my novel-length stories are 200,000 words or more,
so nobody in my writer’s circle was surprised when five chapters
turned into ten or even when ten turned into twenty. And as far as the
initial writing was concerned, length wasn’t an issue. I had a story to
tell and so I wrote it the way I saw it. The hard part came when I had
to pitch it to a publisher because it is far too long for a single-volume
publication, yet it is, in my head, so clearly one story. I went back to
the drawing board, trying to find steps and stages to provide logical
breaking points for the volumes, and with a lot of help and a little
rewriting, Alliance in Blood was born. Covenant in Blood was also
completed by the time I was ready to approach a publisher. Despite
being almost twice the length of Alliance, that was the logical breaking
point. Conflict in Blood and Reparation in Blood were just outlines at
the time, to the great amusement of my writing buddies. They know
what an ambivalent relationship I have with outlines. And of course,
they were right. Two chapters into Conflict, I’d already added two
unplanned chapters and expanded the two following chapters to four.
And so the writing went on. And on. And on.
Some novels, even some series, tell one person’s tale, or one couple’s.
Mine developed a cast of thousands, and every one of them is real to
me, even the ones who appear and disappear almost before they have a
chance to breathe. The number of pivotal characters is somewhat
smaller, but even then, this is an ensemble central cast and they all have
moments to share with us. It makes the timeline of the story somewhat
deceptive, each day packed with activities because while one character
may be at home in bed recovering from a shift, someone else is out in
the city, alert for the dark wizard and his minions. Individuals may
rest, but the story itself never does.
Hopefully, the characters will become as dear to you, my new readers,
as they have to my first readers. Covenant in Blood is finished and
being edited, with a planned released date of November, 2008.
Conflict in Blood and Reparation in Blood are in the final stages of
writing, with planned release dates of May and November 2009,
respectively.
TÜ|xÄ gtv{Çt
May, 2008
Alliance in Blood 1
Chapter 1
PARIS spread out at his feet, the lights of the city sparkling like
diamonds on black velvet. If he squinted, he could make out the
individual monuments: Notre Dame with her twin bell towers, Sacré-
Cœur gleaming white on the top of Montmartre, la Tour Eiffel,
towering over the city. With a sigh, the white-haired wizard turned
away from the arched window with its carved stone flourishes. His
eyes scanned the office, taking in its familiar dark paneling broken only
by a flickering map and inset shelves lined with the marks of his rank
and power: the medallion that signified his position as the commanding
general of the Milice de Sorcellerie; the plaque with the names of all
the previous heads of l’Association Nationale de Sorcellerie; photos of
him with the President, the Prime Ministre, and various heads of state.
He focused on the map, watching the orderly progression of
lights that indicated a patrol’s progress through the fifth
arrondissement. A snap of his fingers changed the parameters, pulling
back so he could keep watch over the entire city. He frowned at the
sight of a patrol not moving near l’Arc de Triomphe, hoping they had
not been ambushed by Serrier’s rebel wizards, but before he could call
down to the soldier on watch at the full-sized map, a knock sounded at
his door. He opened it with a gesture and waited for his captains to join
him.
“Bellaiche has agreed to meet with us,” General Marcel
Chavinier told them when they were seated, picking up the letter he had
received from the chef de la Cour of the Parisian vampires.
“Tomorrow night at midnight, in the Père Lachaise cemetery. One of
2 Ariel Tachna
us and one of them. More than that, and they see it as a declaration of
war.” He dropped his bombshell and waited. He knew the two men in
front of him on the other side of the desk. Had known them since they
were little more than children when first Alain, then Thierry, had
arrived at l’ANS to learn the wizarding craft.
“No way in hell,” Thierry Dumont exploded. Marcel almost
smiled. Thierry’s reaction was completely predictable. Now if Alain
Magnier’s was as predictable, they would be able to make some plans.
“We are not sending a lone wizard to meet with a vampire. What if the
vampire isn’t alone? What if he attacks? What if…?” The old
diplomat turned General listened to Thierry’s ravings and waited for
the other man to stop him.
“I’ll do it,” Alain interrupted his best friend and fellow soldier.
“It’s a gesture of good faith. They’re offering to make one by sending
just one vampire. We have to make one in return by sending just one
wizard. Besides Marcel and you, I’m probably the most powerful of
anyone we would trust to send. It would take more than one vampire to
overwhelm me. You know they’re our best hope, Thierry. Let me do
this. We’ll agree to a length of time, and if I’m not back by the agreed
upon time, you can bring in the cavalry and rescue me. It’s a chance
we have to take.”
There was one other reason for him to go rather than Thierry,
but given Thierry’s reaction any time it was mentioned, it was a reason
best left unspoken. Thierry still had a chance at happiness. Alain had
lost that chance two years ago. If one of them was going to this
meeting with the vampires, better that it was him, not his friend.
Alain knew the risk Marcel had taken even contacting the leader
of the vampires. To admit that they were not strong enough to defeat
Pascal Serrier, the powerful dark wizard who had started this war, took
a lot of courage. It also left them incredibly vulnerable if Jean
Bellaiche decided against them. Not only would this fight determine
the future complexion of their society, but it was also upsetting the
balance of the world. Not just the balance between natural and
supernatural, but the balance of elemental powers that stabilized
everything. Without wizards to keep that energy in check, everyone
and everything would succumb to chaos. Alain knew it. Marcel knew
