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    Midnight Poison (Paranormal Poisons Saga Book 1)


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      Table of Contents

      Midnight Poison

      Additional Books by A&E kirk

      Follow us/join us on social media

      Dedicated to:

      Acknowledgements:

      CHAPTER 1

      CHAPTER 2

      CHAPTER 3

      CHAPTER 4

      CHAPTER 5

      CHAPTER 6

      CHAPTER 7

      CHAPTER 8

      CHAPTER 9

      CHAPTER 10

      CHAPTER 11

      CHAPTER 12

      CHAPTER 13

      CHAPTER 14

      CHAPTER 15

      CHAPTER 16

      CHAPTER 17

      CHAPTER 18

      CHAPTER 19

      CHAPTER 20

      CHAPTER 21

      CHAPTER 22

      CHAPTER 23

      CHAPTER 24

      CHAPTER 25

      CHAPTER 26

      CHAPTER 27

      CHAPTER 28

      CHAPTER 29

      CHAPTER 30

      CHAPTER 31

      CHAPTER 32

      CHAPTER 33

      CHAPTER 34

      CHAPTER 35

      CHAPTER 36

      CHAPTER 37

      CHAPTER 38

      CHAPTER 39

      CHAPTER 40

      CHAPTER 41

      CHAPTER 42

      CHAPTER 43

      CHAPTER 44

      CHAPTER 45

      CHAPTER 46

      CHAPTER 47

      CHAPTER 48

      CHAPTER 49

      CHAPTER 50

      CHAPTER 51

      CHAPTER 52

      CHAPTER 53

      CHAPTER 54

      CHAPTER 55

      CHAPTER 56

      CHAPTER 57

      CHAPTER 58

      CHAPTER 59

      CHAPTER 60

      CHAPTER 61

      CHAPTER 62

      CHAPTER 63

      CHAPTER 64

      CHAPTER 65

      CHAPTER 66

      CHAPTER 67

      CHAPTER 68

      CHAPTER 69

      CHAPTER 70

      CHAPTER 71

      CHAPTER 72

      CHAPTER 73

      CHAPTER 74

      CHAPTER 75

      CHAPTER 76

      CHAPTER 77

      CHAPTER 78

      CHAPTER 79

      CHAPTER 80

      CHAPTER 81

      CHAPTER 82

      CHAPTER 83

      CHAPTER 84

      CHAPTER 85

      CHAPTER 86

      CHAPTER 87

      CHAPTER 88

      CHAPTER 89

      CHAPTER 90

      CHAPTER 91

      CHAPTER 92

      CHAPTER 93

      CHAPTER 94

      CHAPTER 95

      CHAPTER 96

      CHAPTER 97

      CHAPTER 98

      CHAPTER 99

      CHAPTER 100

      CHAPTER 101

      CHAPTER 102

      CHAPTER 103

      CHAPTER 104

      CHAPTER 105

      CHAPTER 106

      CHAPTER 107

      CHAPTER 108

      CHAPTER 109

      CHAPTER 110

      CHAPTER 111

      CHAPTER 112

      CHAPTER 113

      CHAPTER 114

      CHAPTER 115

      Excerpt from DEMONS AT DEADNIGHT

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Author Bio:

      Midnight Poison

      By

      A&E Kirk

      Paranormal Poisons Saga:

      Book 1

      Copyright 2017 by A&E Kirk

      Book layout by Cheryl Perez; www.yourepublished.com

      ISBN 978-1-946285-01-0

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, or the facilitation thereof, including storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

      This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters, places or events that take place in this book are strictly coincidental.

      Visit us online at: www.aekirk.com

      Additional Books by A&E kirk

      THE DIVINICUS NEX SERIES

      Demons at Deadnight

      Drop Dead Demons

      Demons in Disguise

      Hello Reader!

      Thanks for being here! We are soooooo excited for you to start MIDNIGHT POISON!

      But first,

      AN IMPORTANT NOTE especially to our wonderful fans who adore our best selling DIVINICUS NEX CHRONICLES.

      In comparison to DNC which is suitable for all teens, MIDNIGHT POISON is geared for older teens and above. It has language (swearing), violence and gore, and a level of sexuality that would make Blake say, "Yeah, baby!" but cause Logan to faint. Literally.

      We think you will have a blast with this exciting new story and crazy fun characters, but we want you to BE WARNED because MIDNIGHT POISON may not be for all DNC fans.

      So back away now, or strap in and go for it. Either way, we love you!

      Hugs and Kisses All Around,

      A & E

      PS: Don’t miss all the latest news and fun!

      Sign up for our Hexy Knight Newsletter at our website: AEKIRK.COM

      Follow us on FACEBOOK.COM/AandEKIRK

      Follow us/join us on social media

      Visit our website: aekirk.com

      Join us on Facebook:

      facebook.com/AandEKirk

      www.facebook.com/groups/nexnest/

      Follow us on Twitter

      twitter.com/eileenmkirk (it's @eileenmkirk)

      twitter.com/alyssakirk (it's @alyssakirk)

      Dedicated to:

      Our editor, The Sage

      Wise. Patient. Indispensable. Snarky.

      You weren’t sure you were going to like this book. Well, like it or not, it’s dedicated to you.

      Boom.

      After all of your hard work, we hope you don’t think it sucks.

      Acknowledgements:

      A huge thanks to all our incredible fans. Thanks for coming with us into Kiara’s world. Your loyalty will be rewarded with the hexiest of novels!

      A special thanks to the man, the myth, the legend: The Sage. Thanks for staying with us as we explored this new adventure. Midnight Poison would not be what it is without you. Thank you so much for your dedication and hard work.

      We are so grateful to Cheryl for putting up with our timeline. You are a machine! And we love you!

      Oh my God, wow! Elena Dudina created an incredible cover. This woman deserves a round of applause!

      Thank you Izzy, Cierra, Claudia, and Katrin for managing the Divinicus Nex Nest and Kirk Clan. They are a huge success thanks to you. We couldn’t do it without you! Your unwavering support goes above and beyond. We are so grateful for all you do!! You ladies rock!

      Thought we forgot about you, Mark? Ha! Never! You’re a super husband/dad. Thanks for sneaking in food with ninja stealth when we forgot to eat and acting like we weren’t crazy in our sleep deprived state after working through the night several days in a row!

      CHAPTER 1

      A violent crescendo of screams slashed through the gentle harmonies of Mozart’s haunting melody. Bright crimson sprayed the white ceiling of the massive party tent, the glowing chandeliers swayed upon impact. The scarlet liquid dripped off the thousands of glittering crystals. Leontes stared at the droplets on the back of his hand, rested his cane against the round table, and then licked away the blood.

      Silence hushed through the space around him. The
    large crowd of rich, beautiful, powerful—and soon-to-be-dead—people attending the charity ball looked around with curiosity. Many of those sitting at the tables rose to their feet. Dancers paused their steps.

      A rumble from above brought all eyes upward. The center-most chandelier trembled as shadows snaked over the white ceiling. Black vines serrated with sharp thorns ripped through the fabric. Twisting like serpents, the thick vines hissed against the material before they coiled around the chandelier. As the crystals trembled and clinked, deep red flower petals fluttered down over the crowd.

      Something hit the table with a wet slap, toppling the floral centerpiece with a crash and speckling moisture onto Leontes’ cheek. The human heart, so recently removed from its owner, gave one final pathetic pump and then lay limp. Black blood oozed like foul-smelling wine over the white tablecloth. The woman sitting beside Leontes gasped and clutched his hand. The others at the table choked on screams of shock.

      When a slow laugh wound through the air like wind chimes on an ocean breeze, chills erupted down Leontes’ spine.

      “No,” he whispered.

      The vines strangling the chandelier burst with blooms of large black flowers.

      Several partygoers shrieked in horror. “Oleander!”

      A group of men ran, tossing aside tables, chairs, and each other. Anything standing between themselves and escape. More blossoms burst to life. They overflowed around the remaining chandeliers and smothered the glowing bulbs. Light faded into darkness and fueled the rising terror.

      Snatching his cane, Leontes rose and took the hand of the woman sitting beside him. The stench of soured blood and eviscerated organs surged through the air. His feet slipped on something wet as he backed toward the exit. He looked down at the dark pool growing larger by the second. The woman screamed and pointed over his shoulder.

      Leontes turned. He barely registered the flash of metal before his head fell from his shoulders. It hit the ground with a wet thud. A moment later the cane clattered beside it as the vicious sounds of the massacre echoed to nothing.

      CHAPTER 2

      For Leontes, everything became startlingly black. No emotion or power in the abyss of nothingness. He could not remember a time death had not ended like this. He took a deep breath and slipped from the void. Faint light called to him. Shapes pushed through and took on substance and color. He rubbed his neck, head still firmly attached.

      Always a comfort.

      He shook his head and broke free from the vision of the past. With another deep breath, he focused on the world around him. The present.

      Police officers and technicians hurried about in a professionally panicked manner through the wreckage. Overturned furniture. Broken china. Scattered food. The remnants of what had been a four-foot-tall swan ice sculpture now lay melted on the ground. White curtains, ripped and bloody, draped in elegant arcs around the open-air tent big enough to house a circus.

      Or in this case, a slaughter.

      The wood dance floor gleamed slick with smeared blood, like a macabre modern art piece. Strings of miniature lights hung in a broken, haphazard mess. Several spit sparks.

      Outside the tent, floodlights illuminated the expansive green lawn rolling up to a stately mansion. Littered with dozens of misshapen forms hidden beneath body sheets, the grass looked like a blizzard had dropped masses of snow in its wake.

      Leontes flexed his fingers around the cane in his hand. He could still feel the pull of the memories attached to it. The endless loop of someone else’s pain and fear yearned to yank him in to relive it all, again and again, but his centuries of experience made him more than able to resist. He knelt and set the cane on the blood-soaked sheet that covered what remained of the cane’s owner.

      He pulled a pair of black leather gloves from his coat and slipped them on. He had touched enough of the various victims’ items to piece together what had happened here.

      A middle-aged, mustached detective in a cheap sports coat and latex gloves entered the tent and gazed around.

      “Looks like one hell of a party. Get it? Hell of a party.” He chuckled.

      Leontes did not laugh.

      He stood tall, lean, and muscular, an imposing figure in a black trench coat over an expertly tailored Italian three-piece suit. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with handsome, aristocratic features finely formed from generations of good breeding. But there was nothing soft about him.

      Under high cheekbones, a perpetual five o’clock shadow covered his square jaw and surrounded full lips which were currently tipped into a frown. His cobalt blue eyes held a hard look that demanded respect. Against dark waves of hair that curled softly at the ends, his skin had always been pale, but more so now, which made the thin scar across his neck stand out even in this dim light.

      From his vest, he removed a gold pocket watch hanging on a chain and opened it briefly. Dawn was several hours away, but with a mess of this magnitude they would still have to move fast. Leontes scanned the room, rolling his shoulders to shake off the shadows of the recent past and concentrate on the present.

      He spoke with a strong British accent, his noble heritage evident in the tone and cadence. “Have you any relevant information as of yet?”

      “Look, kid.” The officer puffed out his chest. “I’m Detective Cage. This is a crime scene. Authorized personnel only. You can’t be here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately.” He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

      Leontes held up his credentials.

      “Holy shit,” the detective muttered.

      Not bothering to look at the man, Leontes strode past and spoke in a lecturing tone, “Language, detective. Language.”

      Cage’s chest deflated. “Oh, yeah. I mean, uh, yes, sir. Sorry, um, Ambassador Rittenhause, sir. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t recognize you. Sir.”

      Leontes looked the man up and down. “I do not recall us having met.”

      Detective Cage bobbed his head. “No, sir, we haven’t, but—”

      “Then, detective, how would you expect to recognize me?”

      The man squirmed. “I guess I wouldn’t. But I know your reputation. Sir. Sorry you have to see this.”

      See this? If he only knew. “I am sorry anyone has to see this.”

      “Yeah, but sorry about all the blood and bodies and stuff. Messy. I know you don’t like that kind of thing.”

      Leontes lifted a brow. “Do you now?”

      “Well, uh, that’s the word.” Cage swallowed. “You being a diplomat and all. Like I said, I know your reputa—”

      “Indeed. Whoever was in charge previously, go inform them this scene is now mine.”

      Leontes lifted the nearest sheet, beneath lay what used to be a torso. Someone had shattered the sternum and hinged the chest open at the spine. Ribs hung with wet strings of flesh. The lungs and ropes of intestines sat inside like the tongue of a clam. The neck was a pulpy stump. With the hips ripped off, there was no confirmation of the gender, but the size of the shoulders tended toward male.

      “If they sent you, it must be true.” The detective’s voice lowered. “Oleander is back.”

      Leontes dropped the sheet. “Oleander died centuries ago.”

      Detective Cage smirked. “So did we.”

      Leontes shot him an annoyed glance that stuttered the smirk into submission, then he flicked the tail of his coat back and knelt to lift up a new sheet. Heavily muscled arm. Deep, oozing lacerations. The round tip of the humorous bone jutted out, ready to be popped back into a shoulder that was likely scattered under another sheet. In the midst of all this, finding that shoulder could prove difficult.

      “How many victims?” Leontes asked.

      “We don’t know. A hundred, two hundred? Can’t be sure until we piece bodies back together. You were alive back when Oleander was loose, right?”

      Leontes stood. “Have you not found the guest list?”

      “Guest list?”

      “Security was excruciatingly tight. You had to be on a list to be allowed en
    trance.”

      “You would know,” Detective Cage said with not-so-subtle envy. “I’ll have someone look for that.”

      Idiot. Leontes pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Start your search with the dead security guards out front.”

      Detective Cage started to turn away, but stopped. “They say Oleander is feral. A machine with one goal. Destroy everything. How did you stay alive? How do we all stay alive?”

      Before he could answer, a female voice said, “By not jumping to conclusions, you fopdoodle.”

      CHAPTER 3

      Leontes smiled.

      All four-feet-eight-inches of Dr. Victoria Frankenstein stomped in wearing dainty boots that glistened with blood and dew. Revered for her brilliant scientific mind, she had been utilized by vampire masters for centuries. Many considered sunscreen to be among her greatest inventions. It poured billions in revenue into their coffers when sold to the humans and allowed vampires to live ‘outside the box,’ as the in-house marketing slogan stated. Most importantly, it solidified her spot in the vampire hierarchy.

      “Good evening, Frankie,” Leontes said evenly.

      With a fierce glare on her face, Frankie tugged a hot pink cardigan over her small shoulders and smoothed her hands over the slim skirt of her black dress. She wore bright green, cat’s-eye glasses on a face full of rounded features, her thin lips currently set in a frown. She tucked back a few blonde strands of hair that had dared to escape the tightly wrapped bun at the nape of her head.

      Normally, Leontes was happy to see her. Normally, she was not shooting him dirty looks. So he was grateful when her ferocious fawn-brown eyes turned on the detective. Leontes may have intimidated him, but the detective visibly withered as he stared down the wrath of the tiny woman’s bespectacled glare.

     

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