Susan Krinard - Shadowmaster

“Are you telling me the truth?” Drakon asked very softly.

He settled his weight—his heat, his maleness—beside her on the bed.

“I—” For a moment Phoenix 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. “You wouldn't do that.”

He sighed. “You don't know what I'm capable of,” he said.

She'd been prepared for this, prepared to offer her body.

The problem was that her mind was refusing to use her 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 in the brief time she'd had contact with him, she had developed a very personal interest in her “savior.”

Her enemy.

SUSAN KRINARDhas been writing paranormal romance for nearly twenty years. With Daysider she began a series of vampire paranormal romances, the Nightsiders series, for the Mills & Boon ®Nocturne™ line.

Sue lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with her husband, serge, her dogs, Freya, Nahla and Cagney, and her cats, Agatha and Rocky. She loves her garden, nature, painting and chocolate … not necessarily in that order.

Shadowmaster

Susan Krinard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With thanks to Lucienne and Leslie,

who have never given up.

Contents

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

Excerpt

Chapter 1

“We don’t know who he is,” the director said. “We know it’s a he, and we believe he goes by the name ‘Drakon.’ There are certain unconfirmed reports that he has connections in the Fringe, here in the city. We don’t know where he’s hiding, if he’s working alone or if he has contacts within this very agency.”

Aegis Director of Operatives Julia Chan swept the table with her gaze, pausing to search each pair of eyes locked on hers. Phoenix was only one of many, but she felt as if Director Chan were looking into her soul. Weighing strengths and weaknesses. Going over a mental checklist of successes and failures in Phoenix’s relatively brief and undemanding career—mentally studying her psych eval, deciding if the agent’s abilities and qualifications were up to the task.

No doubt the director was wondering if an agent who was only half-dhampir like herself—only a quarter Opir and three-quarters human—and had never had a major mission in the field, could possibly be capable enough for a job that could mean life or death for the largest Enclave of humans on the West Coast of the former United States of America.

Then the director’s gaze moved on, and she nodded brusquely. “You’ll have full, detailed reports on your tabs. Study them thoroughly. We’re sending only one agent during the initial stage of the search. We’re betting that the assassin is heterosexual, and like most Opiri, he’ll naturally be attracted to dhampir blood.” She swept the audience with a cold stare. “Let me be very frank—you may have to use sex as a way of getting to him, not to mention your blood. As always, if you feel or believe you’re not up to the task of using every personal asset to find this killer before he brings down our government, tell me now. You’ll receive no black mark on your record for declining, under the circumstances. And, as always, every word spoken in this room is strictly confidential. Any leaks will be investigated and the traitor will face the harshest possible penalties.”

She closed her tab, gathered up a few printed notes and left the room.

“Well, that was clear enough,” Yoko said close to Phoenix’s ear as they rose from their seats at the table. “We always knew what we were getting into when we joined Aegis.”

“Joined?” Phoenix said, shaking her head. “Since when did you dhampires have any choice in the matter? You can’t be left to run loose in society, half-vampires that you are.”

Yoko took Phoenix’s arm, her catlike pupils dilating. “You talk as if you don’t think you’re one of us. Just because you look fully human...”

“I inherited my looks from my mother, eyes and all. And she didn’t go through what most of yours did. She wasn’t taken during the War by some bloodsucker against her will.”

“No. But she married one of the first dhampires ever to be identified,” Yoko said, her round face suddenly serious. “Even the people who adopted him as a kid before the Awakening had no idea where he came from. At least most of us knew our real mothers.”

“But not the Nightsiders who made them pregnant,” Phoenix said, brutally blunt. “Who abandoned them as soon as they were done with them. I had a complete family to begin with, even though no one outside a few in the old government knew my dad was working against the bloodsuckers during the War.”

“And kept on working for us after,” Yoko said, “even when he could have retired with honor.”

“Do you really believe that?” Phoenix asked, unable to hide the bitterness that never quite went away. “In the end, he left us like any true dhampir’s ‘father.’”

“He died on a mission. He was a hero, and everyone knows it.”

A hero, Phoenix thought. The kind she could never be. And all her anger, all her hurt couldn’t change that fact.

“Aegis was everything to him, more important than his own wife and child. I’d rather have a live father than a dead hero.”

For once, her voluble friend had nothing to say. It wasn’t as if this were the first time the subject had come up between them, but sometimes—when Phoenix least expected it—the anger came boiling up again.

Oh, Aegis had provided well for the widowed wife and fatherless child. And once Mother died, the agency had become Phoenix’s only family: deciding, after much evaluation, that the half-dhampir child was worth training, though her abilities were constantly tested and weighed against those of every full dhampir, the agents sworn to maintain the Armistice between humans and Nightsiders by every means possible. Unauthorized combat, ambush, deceit, submission, sex. Whatever it took.

Because only dhampires, with their almost catlike eyes, could see by night like full-blooded Opiri, could move nearly as fast and were nearly as strong, could meet Opir operatives in the Zone with some hope of survival.

But this wasn’t the Zone. An Opir assassin was inside the walls of San Francisco Enclave, ready to kill the mayor and foment chaos in the city at a time when the volatile politic situation could be set off by the smallest spark. The forthcoming election had the two factions—the mayor’s and Senator Patterson’s—at daggers drawn. And every report confirmed that the bloodsuckers were preparing for a major offensive.

And yet the mayor insisted that peace could be maintained and renewed. Mayor Aaron Shepherd. The man Phoenix had once loved. And had thought loved her.

Yoko seemed to read her mind. “I know,” she said. “This is kind of personal for you.”

Phoenix didn’t encourage further conversation on the subject, so Yoko moved on. “‘Contacts within this agency,’” she quoted Chan. “If they think that’s even possible, it’s bad. Could make this job a suicide mission.”