Merit and Ethan are in desperate need of some alone time, far from the worries of Cadogan House, but trouble tends to follow wherever they go. Their attempt at a romantic getaway is quickly interrupted when one of Ethan’s vampire friends shows up at their door—covered in blood and accused of killing her shifter husband.
Merit and her Master soon discover their vacation spot is far less idyllic than it appears. A centuries old quarrel between local vampires and shifters has made the town a perpetual supernatural battle zone, and this fresh blood has stirred the already volatile pot. Now, Merit and Ethan must put their passion on pause to figure out who’s really responsible for the murder before all hell breaks loose…
Includes an exclusive preview of the next Chicagoland Vampires novel, Dark Debt
Praise for the series
“Wonderful entertainment.”--#1 New York Times bestselling author Charlaine Harris
“Will appeal to fans of Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse and Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake.”—Library Journal
“A wonderfully compelling reluctant vampire heroine.”—USA Today bestselling author Julie Kenner
Chloe Neill was born and raised in the South, but now makes her home in the Midwest. She is the author of the New York Times bestselling Chicagoland Vampires series, including Dark Debt, Blood Games, and Wild Things. When not transcribing Merit’s adventures, she bakes, works, and scours the Internet for good recipes and great graphic design. Chloe also maintains her sanity by spending time with her boys—her photographer husband and their dogs, Baxter and Scout.
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
The world below us was dark, cities glowing in orange grids like electrical circuits strewn across black canvas.
“It is a beautiful world, Sentinel.”
I shifted my gaze to the vampire across from me in the cabin of his House’s luxe jet.
Tall, with golden hair that brushed his shoulders and eyes like cut emeralds, Ethan Sullivan sat in the ivory leather chair with the bearing of a Master. He was one, head of Chicago’s Cadogan House and a member of the newly created Assembly of American Masters. It wasn’t the position he’d hoped for, but it was certainly the more egalitarian one—he was now member of a democratic congress, rather than an imperial king.
The psychological and physical testing he’d gone through had been grueling, and it didn’t help that we’d been tracking a killer at the same time. The debacle had concluded with another bang: a note had been left in our Cadogan apartments purporting to be from Ethan’s own maker, Balthasar, who was supposed to be long dead. There’d been no other sign of him, but we’d been walking a knife’s edge of tension since we’d found the handwritten message.
Those had been only the most recent episodes in a long and dramatic year, and we needed a break. So we were heading west to spend a few days in Elk Valley, a quiet town in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, at the mountainside retreat of an old friend of Ethan’s. We hadn’t previously traveled together for reasons unrelated to magical drama, and I was both excited and apprehensive. But in the best possible way.
“It’s a big world,” I said. “I like to fly because it reminds me how huge the planet is and how small we are by comparison. I like that idea—that we’re inconsequential, so our troubles are inconsequential, too.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “You could never be inconsequential, Merit.” He glanced out his window, traced a knuckle across the glass. “But I take your point. Living in darkness reduces our visibility, seems to narrow the world. Up here, thirty thousand feet above the earth, you are reminded of its magnitude.”
“The wine is making you poetic.”
He looked at me again with heat and fire, smiled with lazy confidence. “Shall we see just how poetic it can make me?”
The cabin door shushed opened and a petite brunette with a tidy cap of hair and navy skirt and jacket walked forward with a tray. “Refreshments, sir? Ma’am?”
Grinning, Ethan gestured her my way. “If she’s awake, she’s hungry.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said, holding up a hand to decline. The denial was mostly for form and principle, since the tray of petits fours and one-bite tarts looked amazing.
The flight attendant nodded, straightened again. “Please let me know if you change your mind. I hope you’re enjoying your vacation so far?”
“It’s only just begun,” Ethan said. “But so far, so good.”
She smiled and nodded, then shushed back into the staff area, leaving us alone in a floating room of expensive leather and burled wood, seven miles in the air.
Ethan smiled, crooked a finger at me.
“I’m not coming over there,” I told him. “We’re not exactly alone.”
He arched an eyebrow, his signature move. “I believe I can manage not to ravish you for the duration of the flight, Sentinel. Just come sit with me.”
I wouldn’t say I was the lap-sitting type, but it wasn’t often we found ourselves with time to relax together. So I stood, crossed the small space between our chairs, and let him wrap me in his arms.
Since we were officially on vacation, I’d forgone my usual leather jacket and pants—the uniform I’d adopted as Sentinel of Cadogan House—and paired a pale pink wrap sweater with jeans and flats, a combination that made me look more ballerina than vampire warrior. But even a warrior needed a night away from her sword, away from the battles and political intrigue that always seemed to find us.
“My Sentinel,” Ethan said, as he reclined the chair and dimmed the lights. Bodies entwined, we watched the world turn beneath us. “It has been a hard winter. Let us welcome the spring.”
I closed my eyes, relished the scent of him, the maleness. His cologne was sharp and clean, and it overlaid the softness of soap and the slightly spicy scent that made him him. He was everything warm and familiar, and I still marveled that he was so decidedly mine.
I smiled as his arms tightened around me. “So what will we be doing in Elk Valley, Colorado?”
“Beyond the obvious?” he asked, nipping my earlobe. “There will be long walks, beautiful vistas, rolling rivers in which we can dip if it’s warm enough. And, considering your particular interests, some exquisite dining.”
“I am more than the sum of my culinary desires.”
He chuckled. “I never doubt it. Most of all, Merit, we can be ourselves. Man and woman without politics or chaos between us.”
“That sounds pretty good.”
“It will be. I intend to spoil you, Sentinel.”
“You keep saying that.”
“So I do. Let’s see how well I keep my word.”
“What,” I asked an hour later when we stood on the tarmac, “is that?”
It was a monster of a vehicle. Heavy-duty, square frame. Big tires and lots of ground clearance. The exterior was so blindingly orange I was half-surprised it didn’t emit its own light.
“That,” Ethan said, stepping beside me, hands on his hips and a decidedly alpha gleam in his eye, “is our ride.”
“Because we fear a zombie apocalypse? And we hope they’re color-blind?”
“Because we need the four-wheel drive. We won’t be sticking to paved roads on this trip.”
I had mixed emotions about roaming through the woods of Colorado. Not because I was afraid of the forest; I was a predator, after all. Even if the view was limited, darkness was familiar to me, and forests home to any number of things I could best if the need arose. Night was our territory.
But because to get there, I’d have to ride in the Orangesplosion.
“I’m calling it the Orangesplosion,” I announced to Ethan.
“Do what you must do,” he said, assisting the steward in loading our bags, then opening the passenger door for me. “And as your Master, I’ll do as I will.”
That came as a shock to precisely no one.
The sun might have been down, but the moon was high, a gleaming disk of white that blazed above us. We drove through narrow valleys surrounded by tree-covered slopes, then moved into the mountains, tracing curved roads that rose gently upward. Ethan had lowered the windows, and the trickling of a stream to our right became the music of our journey. I glanced up at the tree-dotted hills, remembered a family trip to Aspen when we were younger. My brother, Robert, my sister, Charlotte, and I had skied with abandon down hills I should have been too young to attempt, but I’d been too enamored of the speed to decline. I’d gotten a broken arm for my trouble.
But the skiing wasn’t the point . . . The trees were.
“Those are aspens, right?” Aspen stakes were the only kind that could kill vampires.
“They are,” Ethan said, both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, as he maneuvered the vehicle around bends he probably could have handled better in his own sleek Ferrari. But the Orangesplosion had been his choice.
“Is it ironic that you chose for our vacation a place full of tools for vampire hunting?” And the type of tool, I thought, that had once brought him down and turned him to ash.
“It is,” he agreed. “But that’s Colorado, or this particular part anyway. And I’ve no intention of being staked now or later.”
I didn’t doubt he was earnest, but I still knocked on the dashboard to ward off bad juju. I’d seen too many things in my year as a vampire to doubt the danger to him—especially considering his new position—or the efficacy of precautions, even superstitious ones.
Ethan turned onto a side road, asphalt becoming bumpy gravel and hairpin turns. The sound of the creek grew louder, joined now by the tumble of rocks beneath the car. We snuck by a sheer granite wall that was so close to the road I could have reached out and touched rock or the water that trickled down it.
One more curve, and the road opened suddenly into a wide valley between aspen-covered hills. In the middle of the meadow stood an enormous log and stone building, precisely the type I’d expected to see in the wilds of Colorado. Huge beams, giant boulders, and a roof made of red metal sheets folded together at the seams like architectural origami. The steep roof pitched at angles here and there, and the entire house glowed golden as if every room was filled with candles.
A porch extended across the entire front of the house, its railing made of wide hewn logs. A stone patio sat to the house’s right, scattered with heavy wood furniture and adorned with a stone-surrounded hot tub that steamed in the chilly spring air.
“And here we are,” Ethan said, pulling the car to a stop in the wide, curved drive. “Welcome to Ravenswood.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, opening the door and hopping out onto ground still soft from recently melted snow. I crossed the patterned stone walkway to the porch.
The word “Ravenswood” was burned into the wood of a thick sign that hung from two hooks above the door. The silhouette of a raven, just as dark, perched above the second “o.” I wrapped fingers around one of the beams that supported the porch’s wide roof, the wood cool and slick as plastic. Adirondack chairs were situated here and there, and a swing of the same hewn logs hung from the far end. I imagined passing a night rocking in the swing, book in hand, Ethan at my side.
Still. While the style of the house wasn’t surprising, the size was. I glanced back at Ethan. “I thought we were staying at a guesthouse.”
He grinned. “This is the guesthouse.”
“Damn,” I said. “How big is the main building?”
“Large,” he said, gesturing to a path that led downhill and into the woods. “The house is through the woods, should you need to goggle,” he added with a grin, then pulled the bags and our scabbarded katanas from the back of the vehicle before closing the hatch again. He handed the katanas to me, then pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the heavy wooden door.
“Welcome to your vacation, Sentinel.”
The house’s décor echoed the exterior. Wood floors, log walls that gleamed like honey, and at the end of the long front room, an enormous fireplace that rose two stories to the vaulted ceiling. The furniture was leather and oversized, arranged to face a wall of windows that opened to the valley beyond.
A glass door led to a wooden deck that flanked the window wall and mirrored the one on the front of the house. I opened it, walked outside, gasped at the view. The valley spread before us like a gift, mountains rising high on either side, a small river moving sinuously through the middle until it disappeared into the distance. Green had begun to sprout through ground spotted with snow, and the entire scene was illuminated by a moon that hung heavy in the sky.
Ethan’s body pressed warmly against mine, wrapping his arms around me as I stared greedily at the view, memorizing every outline, every boulder and crag and curve of trickling water.
“Perhaps the world isn’t so narrow after all,” he said.
I nodded, smiling as a warm breeze, the breath of spring, rustled my long, dark bangs. “Maybe not.”
We stood there together for a long, quiet moment, until our eyes had adjusted to the darkness and our ears to the unusual silence. Chicago wasn’t a quiet city. Even Hyde Park, which was miles away from downtown, had a constant level of noise. Air traffic from Midway, cars, neighbors, dogs, sirens.
At first, there was nothing. But as our ears grew accustomed, sounds emerged. The slip and fall of water around rocks. Wind rustling through grass, frogs and crickets hiding among the spears of it. The creak of wood as the house settled, as if it, too, was relaxing into the darkness.
The sudden pealing of the doorbell was an explosion of sound. It rang once, then again, with obvious urgency.
Ethan cursed, released me, glanced back.
I instantly went on alert. “Who knows we’re here?”
“No one in the state, as far as I’m aware, other than Nessa and her husband.”
Nessa McKenzie was our host, the owner of Ravenswood and its accompanying main house, the leviathan that lurked down the wooded path.
I followed Ethan to the door, waited beside him as he checked the security peep and pulled it open without a word.
She stood in the doorway, a vampire in the form of a voluptuous brunette.
Her hair, a dark mane of curls, pitched forward over one shoulder. Her eyes were big and brown, and streaks of blood stained her hands and her dress.
“Nessa,” Ethan said, with obvious surprise and concern as he looked her over. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Taran,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “He’s dead.”
“Come inside,” Ethan said. He took her arm, pulled her gently into the foyer, and closed the door again.
“Nessa this is Merit, my Sentinel.” Taran is—was—her husband, he silently added, using our telepathic connection.
Ethan put a supportive hand on her back, the familiar line of worry between his eyes. And although he didn’t speak the words—silently or otherwise—I could read his thoughts well enough: What have we stepped into now?
“Come,” he said, walking her to the sofa and helping her sit. “Tell us what’s happened.”
She gripped the couch’s arm, shook her head. “I came home, and Taran was lying on the floor.” She looked down, eyes tracing back and forth, as if she was seeing him there again. “I thought he’d fallen. Tripped. I teased him about it—something about how he’d better get up, the clumsy man—but that’s when I realized . . . He was dead.”
She sobbed, covered her face with her hands, while Ethan stroked a hand over her back.
Her grief was obvious, palpable, and a haunting reminder. I’d lost Ethan once upon a very dark time, and even though I’d gotten him back by a miracle of broken magic, I still remembered the all-consuming grief. The pain of it, the frustration, the sense the world would never be right again.
Ethan met my eyes, acknowledging the pain he must have guessed I’d remembered.
I’ll get her something to drink, I told him. I went into the kitchen, poured water into a glass from a sealed bottle in the refrigerator, carried it back.
Ethan reached for it, our fingers brushing as I passed it over. He fitted it between Nessa’s hands, now kneading fists in her lap.
“Drink,” he said, and she nodded, tipped up the glass with shaky hands.
Ethan waited until she’d lowered it again. “Have you called the authorities?”
“The sheriff,” Nessa said with a teary nod. “Tom McKenzie. There are a lot of McKenzies in the valley. He came with a deputy and they started looking around. I went outside to get air, and then I started walking . . .” She looked around the living room as if utterly surprised to have found herself there. “I came here.”
“Will they be looking for you?” Ethan’s question was quiet, his tone cautious.
“I don’t know. Probably.” Her eyes filled again, and this time there was fear in them.
Ethan and I exchanged a glance. “Nessa,” he gently said. “What else?”
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
They also really need a break, please give us another glimpse into the world of Ethan and Merit
Lucky Break is a novella (#10.5) in author Chloe Neill's Chicagoland Vampires series. Merit and Ethan desperately need some time away from their duties and just when they begin a romantic vacation, wouldn't you know it...yep, work calls. This mystery heavily involves the shifter community which was a nice addition. This series never gets old, and even though I would have thoroughly enjoyed reading a fun Ethan and Merit love-fest, I certainly didn't mind this mystery-filled quickie. My favorite quote: “It’s a big world,” I said. “I like to fly because it reminds me how huge the planet is and how small we are by comparison. I like that idea—that we’re inconsequential, so our troubles are inconsequential, too.”
Loved Ethan and Merit! Great couple, good story!
A fun couple whose adventures I enjoy.
~ 3 Lucky Break Stars ~ I enjoyed reading Lucky Break. If you are a fan of the series or just starting then you will notice that the full length books are more about the vampires where the shorts focus on CNeill’s shifters. Merit and Ethan are trying to have a vacation together, but as all things go their life is never duel and the vacation they planed gets turned upside down. This short does not really contribute to the series, just gives you a taste of what the series is about and shows us what vampires outside of the Houses deal with. I enjoyed the secondary characters and the Marchand/Mckenzie feud plus murder mystery. The one thing I have notice in the books and shorts is that Ethan always calls Merit by Sentinel. This is getting to me. It makes me wonder/question about their relationship. I can’t decide if they are a couple or if they are Master and Sentinel. Is it his way of putting Merit in her place? Aren’t they supposed to be more of a couple and on equal ground.. Hmmm As things go Lucky Break was a nice enjoyable short to read.
This is a nice addition to the Chicagoland Vampires series, continuing to develop both the characters and the world they live in.
Thank you for that wonder full comment he fire near her hed but id not hit her. Good bye.
mike u want to
I usually don't enjoy short stories. I don't feel like I get enough material and usually want more. Although I can't ever get enough of this series the book did come full circle which was a good thing. This was a fun, suspenseful story uniting old with new characters in a different setting as well as adding new intrigue outside of Chicago. I highly recommend this read!
Normally I finish reading short stories and feel like I paid too much money for so little. Not the case with this story-fast paced writing with a satisfying plot made this one of my fave short stories. Kudos to chloe Neill for her intriguing heroine and original ideas.
Lucky Break finds Merit and Ethan visiting Colorado in an attempt to take a vacation away from Chicago drama. Instead, they walk into a murder and the supernatural version of the Hatfields and McCoys feud. Thus, Merit does what she does best, kick butt and solve the crime. I love the full Chicagoland crew and stories, but I really love the novellas that break away the typical formula of them. Having Ethan and Merit on their own to figure this out was a nice treat. I can't wait for the next one.
Such a good little glimpse back into the oives of Merit and Ethan!
Loved, loved, loved. I can never get enough of Merit and Ethan. This was a great novella about Merit and Ethan trying to take a quick vacation and just enjoy each other with out supernatural drama. Of course that was not to be. The end up in the middle of a shifter/vampire feud. With the help of Gabriel and some of his pack they will get to the bottom of things. This is a quick read and includes a free peek at Dark Debt!! 5 stars!!!
Here is were we come to a vacation for Merit and Ethan. But as you can tell from the overview that thus it's not what they get at all. From the first night they have problems right up until they head home. To help with everything that is going down we have some people from Chicago come to town. Do they really help all that much, not really, but Merit is happily kept feed. It is a short novella under a 100 pages. It felt like a creeper let feeler book more then anything. Not something that needs to be read but was still fun to read. I read the whole thing in about one hour. So ready for Dark Debt after reading the first two chapters.
Nice, quick little murder-mystery that Ethan and Merit unfortunately stumble upon and of course offer to help solve even though they are supposed to be on vacation. The main focus of Lucky Break is really on the Hatfield and McCoy issues between the rogue vampire clan and shifter pack in the area and how the murder affects both sides and showcases the issues that will always be a problem between the sups. Merit and Ethan are more like mediators rather than being smack dab in the middle of the problem, which actually worked for me. I still got a healthy dose of Merit’s snark, which I adore, had Methan time, which is looking to be on pretty solid ground both as a couple and as Sentinel and Master. I did miss the Ombuddies as well as Luc and Lindsey, but getting to spend a little time with Gabriel Keene is always a good time and then there’s Damien Garza. Damien may just be kicking Jeff out of the number one spot as my favorite shifter in the series, but that’s still up in the air. All in all, this was a fun little novella to tide everyone over until Dark Debt releases next month.