Susan Krinard - Shadowmaster

She’d planned to keep him from realizing that she knew what he was as long as possible, and prevent him from finding out what she was, until she had no other choice but to consciously make use of her true nature. But if part of his nearly instantaneous and obviously powerful attraction to her was due to the scent of her part-dhampir blood, she had no idea how long her secret could last.

“Lark,” he said.

She almost—almost—forgot to respond to her alias.

“Was the information you plan to sell to me the reason your government believed you’d betray them?” he asked, resuming their conversation as if there had never been a break. “Or was it something else?”

Phoenix thought through her cover story. There was still something about her claims he wasn’t buying.

“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “I found some...stuff that I thought might bring in a little extra income. They don’t pay us govrats that much, you know. Not at my clearance level.”

“What stuff?” he asked, his husky baritone sending unwelcome shivers down her spine.

“Just a little persuasion,” she said. “A politician who’d rather not have anyone know he keeps a little something on the side.”

He snorted. “And they caught you?”

“They only found out at the last minute who did it.”

“And you were stupid enough to risk so much without taking sufficient precautions.”

“Maybe I needed the money fast.”

“Why?”

“Do I have to tell you my life story to get you to help me?”

“You’ll have to provide a lot more than that if you want our help.”

“Isn’t that what this conversation is all about?”

The chair he was sitting on creaked, and she turned her head to follow the sound of his progress around the small room.

“It isn’t only the Enforcers who are chasing you,” he said. “Not if you’ve been declared a traitor. Traitors are the ones who might reveal things to the bloodsuckers that could bring the Enclave down.”

“And you think I—” She gulped in a breath. “I don’t have that kind of information. And everyone knows the Nightsiders are evil monsters. Why would any Cit pass Enclave secrets on to those who would only enslave her?”

“Aegis must think you have those kinds of secrets,” he said. “They could be sweeping the Fringe in an hour.”

“I didn’t access Aegis files! I can’t even get near them!”

His weight—his heat, his warmth, his maleness—settled beside her on the bed. “Are you telling me the truth?” he asked, very softly.

“I—” For a moment she forgot what she was about to say, enveloped in the blatant desire emanating from him.

“It would be safer for me to turn you in,” he said. “Anonymously, of course.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

His breath sighed very close to her lips. “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he said.

“You warned me about The Preacher, even before he—”

“Maybe my motives weren’t very different from his.”

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t molest me?”

“I wouldn’t take any woman against her will.”

But the rough purr in his voice told her exactly what he meant by will. She’d been prepared for this. She’d been ready to offer her body in payment for what she had to have, regarding it as no more than part of her mission.

The problem was that her body was responding to his nearness, his potent masculinity, as powerfully as he was reacting to her. And her mind was refusing to think of using that body as just a tool in a war for the Enclave’s survival. Her nerves hummed in response to the aura of sheer sexual need that surrounded him, and she realized that she had somehow developed a very personal, visceral interest in her “savior.”

Her enemy.

“Before we go any further,” she said, “would you mind telling me your name?”

Her question broke the spell. “Sammael,” he said, slight annoyance in his voice.

“That sounds familiar,” she said.

“An archangel,” he said. “Some call him the ‘Angel of Death.’”

“Now you’re trying to scare me again.”

“Perhaps my bark is worse than my bite.”

She nearly burst into highly inappropriate laughter. “Is that what the other Bosses say?”

“Ask the ones who tried to invade my turf.”

“Very reassuring. Okay, about that information. It could make it a lot easier for you crimin... Your smugglers to establish better contacts and get access to valuable goods outside the Fringe. And I do have a way for you to check on it before you commit yourself.”

“What is it?”

“I want your word that you won’t kill me as soon as I tell you.”

He laughed, a sound that would have been pleasant under other circumstances. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, running his warm, calloused hand down her arm, his skin caressing where it brushed over the hole in her uniform blouse.

Oh, God, she thought, feeling all the heat in her body rushing to a very precise location between her thighs. “Until you...until you have a good reason to believe me,” she stammered, “you’ll continue to wonder if what I’m offering is worth your help. Just give me a chance to...prove myself.”

“And what will you do once you’re free of the Enclave?”

Phoenix found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the conversation. “What do the other emigrants do?” she asked, her heart beginning to race. “Make a life somewhere in the Zone?”

“Where they may starve or be picked up by bloodsuckers,” he said.

“Obviously, that’s a chance they’re willing to take.” She steadied her voice. “If my choices are blood-slavery, execution or a very unlikely chance at life and freedom, I’ll take the last, thank you very much.”

“No matter how slim the odds?”

“Yes. Will you give me a chance?”

It didn’t seem possible that he could move any closer, but he did. “There is no question of your leaving the Hold until your background story is thoroughly checked, your initial information proves genuine and all risks have been carefully weighed.”

She bit her lip. She might as well bring the subject out into the open.

“You mean you think I’m leading the Enforcers into the Fringe,” she said.

He met her gaze sharply. “Are you?”

“You’re thinking that I was out to find Bosses and expose them, aren’t you?”

“A good guess,” he said grimly. “It’s been tried before.”

“I was looking for The Preacher, but there was no guarantee I’d find him. And the only reason I’d do anything like that is if I were some kind of spy.” She laughed. “I can’t believe you’d think that for a moment. Not about someone like me, a humble govrat.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You’re right.” She frowned. “So what are you going to do to check out my story?”

“That doesn’t concern you. I’ll make the decision about whether or not you stay. My crew will abide by my decision once the situation has been explained to them.”

“What if they don’t?”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “If you’re afraid any of them might hurt you, you can stop worrying. You’re under my protection.”

Another silence fell, seething with sexual awareness. Use it, she told herself. Distract him. Bind him to you. Give him a reason to take this situation personally. Very personally.

She knew she wasn’t at any risk that he might take her blood and learn what she really was. He’d be giving himself away. And she couldn’t think of any sane reason he’d do so, just as he knew he couldn’t be taking blood from his crew.

But where he obtained his blood was a disturbing question she had to set aside for now. Deliberately striking a pose she knew would emphasize the curve of her breasts under her shirt, she turned her head toward him, sensing without sight how close his lips were to hers.