Christine Feehan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Christine Feehan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:22:46 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Christine Feehan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Dark Joy – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/dark-joy-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:22:46 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/dark-joy-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 118860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)

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The destinies of an ancient warrior and a reluctant shifter entwine in this riveting novel in Christine Feehan’s #1 New York Times bestselling series that unites Carpathians new and old….

Sarika Silva has come to Peru’s rainforest to learn about her family’s history and her own capabilities as a jaguar shapeshifter. What she finds is a dangerous world out of her nightmares, where jungle shifters and ravenous vampires vie for dominance and a gorgeous, lethal predator is waiting to claim her for his own.
Tomas Smolnycki and his brothers have hunted vampires for centuries. As some of the oldest Carpathians, they are accustomed to seeing the world in unfeeling gray. So Tomas is ill prepared for the emotions that rise like a tidal wave when he hears Sarika’s voice. As his world bursts into color, he knows he has finally found his lifemate—a woman he’s compelled to protect whether she likes it or not.

Despite an attraction to Tomas that defies logic, Sarika has no interest in being bound to anyone. But as an ancient enemy gathers power in the darkness, Carpathians and their lifemates from around the world must come together to fight back. And Tomas and Sarika’s bond could be the one thing that will save them from total destruction

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Chapter

1

Just past sunset, a cool breeze slipped through the canopy as Sarika Silva stood on a boulder and peered up at the umbrella of branches far above her head. There was little light on the forest floor, and few plants thriving, yet there were hundreds of years of debris. Ferns and some smaller bushes managed to grow in the dark, dimly lit atmosphere.

She could hear the scurry of lizards and mice, of voles and beetles as they hurried back and forth preparing for the night and the host of predators emerging. She drew in a deep breath, taking in the amazing scents surrounding her. Scores of tree frogs of various species called back and forth to one another.

She held herself very still, trying not to attract attention. She had an unfortunate trait she hadn’t yet found a way to rid herself of. All manner of wildlife found her fascinating. She reciprocated the feeling, which was fine at home when dogs and cats sought her out. Or the occasional bunny. But in the various rainforests she’d visited, the animals had been diverse and often quite dangerous.

It wasn’t in her best interest to draw attention to herself. She’d had monkeys, sloths, capybaras and even gorillas seek her out. There had been ocelots, orangutans and countless other animals that showed up in camp or found her on the trails. Once a Bengal tiger. Herd animals followed her.

The rainforest was moody. Eerie. Mysterious. Beauty and danger went hand in hand in the rainforest. Sarika had spent time working in several around the world. This was her first visit to Peru, and to her shock, she felt as if she’d come home. The emotion was overwhelming, so much so that when she’d first stepped off the boat onto solid ground and made her way to the designated meeting place arranged with her guide, she had felt tears welling up. Her heart accelerated, and every single nerve ending came alive.

Alive. That was the true feeling. She felt intensely alive. It was such a weird, unexpected reaction when she’d spent several years studying the various rainforests. Her interest had begun when she was a little girl. She would read everything she could get her hands on, reading far above her grade level on conservation and especially jaguars and the way they were slowly going extinct. She wanted to find a way to save them, and it became the driving purpose of her education. Never once had she regretted her decision to save the jaguars.

Her hero was T. Smolnycki Sr., the leading expert in the field she was most interested in. She’d read everything he’d written, every paper he had produced. He was a conservationist, a biologist and a mammalogist. No matter how long she’d searched, she’d never managed to find a photo of him—or his son. His son went by T. Smolnycki Jr. When his father retired, he took over his work and became her new hero.

The father and son had worked tirelessly to establish conservation for the rainforests, but more importantly to her, they were passionate about the preservation of large cats, including jaguars. That passion came through in the various articles they had written and the worldwide organization they had founded. She found it interesting that Smolnycki Jr.’s papers sounded so similar to his father’s writing. They had the same turns of phrase, the same eloquence. The research was always impeccable and had held up through the years, as had their conservation ideas.

When she was eight years old, she wrote to Smolnycki Jr. To her shock, he had answered her. They established a correspondence of sorts over the years. He had always encouraged her in her dream of saving the jaguars. He seemed to take her ideas seriously, never chiding her for suggesting various plans to him. At times he would point out very gently why a particular idea wouldn’t work; other times he seemed excited about an idea she’d come up with.

T. Smolnycki Jr. often disappeared for months at a time. He would emerge from the wilderness to write another paper or pertinent article or spearhead the drive for the jaguar corridor spanning countries across the globe. His father had been her idol, and while she respected and admired him, she felt Smolnycki Jr. was more of a friend and mentor.

Sarika had gone into the same field as the two men. As she furthered her education, she became a veterinarian for exotic animals, specializing in cats. Along the way, she rounded out her education by becoming a biologist and conservationist. In the years she was getting her education, she made numerous trips to rainforests around the world, volunteering, studying and working, but she’d always avoided Peru.

Peru was home. Peru was where she’d been born into the world of jaguar shape-shifters. She should have been raised there, but instead, when her mother died in childbirth, her father had kept his son but sent her to be raised by his older brother, who lived in the United States.

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Advertisement Deadly Storms – Sunrise Lake Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/deadly-storms-sunrise-lake-read-online-christine-feehan Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:02:22 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/deadly-storms-sunrise-lake-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)

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Danger is gathering on the horizon in this gripping novel of romantic suspense from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.

Shabina Foster does her best to lead a normal life. She takes comfort in her friends and her dogs and finds passion in running her own small-town café in the eastern Sierra. But she can’t help always looking over her shoulder, not after what happened in her past. Since then, Shabina has worked very hard to build herself up and live life to the fullest.

Still, there’s no denying the scars she carries. Truly opening up her guarded world seems like an impossible dream—especially when it comes to the one man who makes her feel safe. Shabina already feels like she’s ruined his life and is determined to keep her distance, even as the ghosts of her past emerge from the shadows.

Security expert Rainier Ashcroft knows firsthand that a storm is brewing and that Shabina is in real trouble. Threats are approaching on all sides—and there’s no telling when the next hit will strike. But convincing the woman he loves to truly let him in will be just as difficult as keeping her alive

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Chapter One

Shabina Foster sighed as she shut down the Zoom meeting with her therapist and closed the lid of her laptop. For one brief moment she rested her head on the top of the lid. It was always more of the same. She knew exactly what Talia Warren, her therapist, was going to say to her, the same thing she said all the time. She had PTSD. She should expect to have setbacks. To have bad days. To have nightmares. Work through them. Use the tools she’d been given over the years to cope.

Shabina turned her head to look at the three Doberman pinschers crowding around her. Malik, Sharif and Morza were her constant companions and always knew when she was distressed. “Great advice. Like I haven’t tried all those so-called tools. Am I paranoid? Most likely the answer is yes. Sometimes I think I really am going crazy.”

Malik pushed up tight against her leg. Automatically she scratched the fur between his ears. She didn’t know what she’d do without the dogs for comfort—or protection. They were trained guard dogs. She worked with them every day to keep them sharp. She needed to know she could stop them if they attacked, or if there were a threat, she could send them to attack.

She glanced out the window at the gathering darkness. A shiver went down her spine in spite of her determination to be positive. The ominous feeling she had was nothing but lack of sleep and paranoia. It wasn’t real. No one was out there watching her. If someone were in her gardens, the dogs would have alerted.

Squaring her shoulders, she forced a cheery voice. “Tonight’s our night for entertaining, boys. If we’re going to have everything ready for our guests, I’d better stop feeling sorry for myself and get moving. I suppose you boys want your dinner. Who knew you liked to eat?” She was in the habit of talking aloud to them and was convinced they understood everything she said. Affectionately she patted each of them.

Shabina was an avid bird-watcher. Not only that, but she documented and recorded their migrations. She noted rare birds and located nesting sites. She was acknowledged as one of the leading experts in the state. The data she sent in was documented and kept for the records. She had special permission to take her dogs on the trails with her when dogs weren’t allowed to go just anywhere in Yosemite. She hiked alone in the early morning hours on little-known trails to find the birds, and the dogs were her protection unit. They knew better than to chase anything off the trail.

The dogs were tuned to her every mood and realized she was still distressed as she got up to get them their food. Two of the large Dobermans followed her closely. Morza padded over to the bank of windows in the great room and peered out and then began to pace around the room, stopping every few feet to look outside. She stood watching him, hand to her throat as he patrolled.

It was impossible to see into the house, yet they had an excellent view of the surrounding gardens. Cameras were placed in strategic places throughout the area. She should have felt safe. There was a high wall surrounding the house and immediate gardens, but for the last few days, she’d had this terrible darkness invading her mind. She found herself looking over her shoulder everywhere she went. She looked at everyone with suspicion, not a good thing when she owned a café. Sometimes she could barely breathe. She tried to convince herself it was paranoia, that there was no one out there, but she didn’t believe it.

“I’m actually quite happy it’s our turn to have girls’ night here.” She forced herself to sound cheerful. Sometimes she thought she might be going insane. She’d been afraid to go to sleep for the last couple of nights. Her therapist told her she had to sleep, and she had lied and said that wasn’t a problem yet. It was a good thing her friends were coming over. She could check in with them. Find out if they thought she was being totally paranoid.

Once every six weeks, Shabina’s five best friends did their best to get together. As a rule, she loved spending time with them and always looked forward to the one night they worked at setting their busy schedules aside so they could come together.

Shabina had a very large four-bedroom home that she’d done her best to make warm and welcoming for her friends. She had an indoor pool that was very popular with them, and her kitchen was spectacular. She loved her kitchen. She’d already done all the baking and set food in warmers. She’d made dog treats because her friends were always welcome to bring their dogs with them and she believed in giving them good healthy treats as well. The house often smelled of the various baked goods she whipped up. She liked to try new recipes at home before she used them in her café.

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Advertisement Thunder Game (GhostWalkers #20) Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/thunder-game-ghostwalkers-20-read-online-christine-feehan Mon, 12 May 2025 18:29:03 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/thunder-game-ghostwalkers-20-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Christine Feehan Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)

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Diego Campos has come home to die. The GhostWalker is tired of walking a dark path shaped by countless losses. There has never been a moment of good in his life that wasn’t followed by something bad. But as he makes his way to his family’s homestead in the Appalachian Mountains, his plans are interrupted by a violent ambush that sets his life on a new course.

In between fighting off a small army of assailants, Diego is struck by a beautiful, brutal warrior woman unlike anyone he’s encountered before. Compelled to rescue her, Diego uses his psychic gifts to make Leila’s broken body whole again and save her from certain death. With each new breath she regains her strength, showcasing her humor, intelligence and courage as she reveals the truths of her past and inspires feelings Diego never thought his heart could experience.

After a lifetime alone, in the middle of firefight, Diego has finally found a light to guide him through the darkness—and one brief touch is enough to set them both aflame

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1

It took a moment of time. One heartbeat. A split second. Diego Campos had grown up in a cruel, unrelenting world and knew for a fact that everything you planned, everything you held dear, could be lost in that single space of time. Despite all the plans you made, all the precautions you took, that single moment would change your life.

Those horrible life-altering moments had happened to him many times, setting him on dark paths he could never come back from. And he was damned tired of trying.

He had come home to die. The only thing he wanted from life now was to be cremated and have his ashes buried next to his parents and five siblings in the graveyard behind the cabin his father had built so many years ago, there in the Appalachian Mountains.

He was on his way home to the old cabin now. With the exception of his brother Rubin, most of the rest of his family were already there, interred in the rocky soil that had been their home for so many years. It was important to him that his ashes were laid to rest beside them, and he knew, being a GhostWalker, that wouldn’t happen if he died anywhere but at the cabin, where Rubin would find him. Even grieving, Rubin would follow his wishes to the letter.

And he would grieve.

Rubin had followed others into the military and into the volunteer program of enhancement of psychic abilities. Diego had followed Rubin. Both scored exceptionally high and were accepted into the program. In the end, not only had their psychic abilities been enhanced, but they had been altered genetically. Given animal, bird and even reptile DNA. Those traits allowed them to do extraordinary things, but they also brought out every negative trait any volunteer in the GhostWalker program had. Diego had quite a bit of darkness in him. That had never stopped Rubin from having intense loyalty toward Diego, however.

Diego had driven up to the old trail that led the way up the mountain. He was miles from home, having to travel mostly by foot to reach the family homestead. He pulled off the pitted dirt road into the shelter of trees and brush. It was one of the places Rubin would look for his vehicle. They had often returned to the mountains and would leave supplies for each other in the truck they’d hidden in the bushes. There was an old road leading up the mountain, but they rarely used it. Neither liked to leave tracks.

Despite the shit show that was his life, Diego could never say he hadn’t been loved. But Rubin would be grieving for a man who had ceased to exist years earlier—hell, a man who never truly had existed. All the good in him had died during his brutal childhood years.

He was sorry Rubin would be the one to find him. If there were a way to spare his brother that, he would. But ending it at the cabin, knowing Rubin would be along in the next week or two to visit the neighbors who needed a doctor, was the only way he could think of to ensure his last wishes were carried out.

Wildflowers grew everywhere, splashes of color springing up in every direction, vying for space with ferns and various bushes. The moment he saw the verbesina, memories of his sisters making crowns from the bright yellow flowers flooded his mind. They’d been so young, laughing as they wove the strands of flowers together and placed them on one another’s heads.

His heart clenched in his chest. Years earlier, he and Rubin had planted verbesina and other wildflowers his sisters had loved in the family graveyard located behind the cabin. They made a point of keeping the little family cemetery nice when they returned each year.

August was ending, and it was time for their semiannual trek home. Rubin hadn’t questioned that Diego wanted to go up a little early. He knew Diego preferred being in the mountains, and it was natural for him to go a couple of weeks early. Besides, Rubin was married now and had commitments to his wife. Diego was counting on Rubin’s love for Jonquille to get him through the next few weeks.

Rubin was ten months older than Diego. They’d been seven years old when their father had died, leaving their mother with nine children and only the land to sustain them. Together, Rubin and Diego had dug the grave and buried their father in that small cemetery behind the cabin.

Hoping to bring in money to feed the family, their two oldest brothers, at fourteen and fifteen, had gone off looking for work but never returned. After two months with no word, Diego realized his older brothers had to be dead, or they would have returned to aid the family, so he made up his mind to protect the others. He had gifts, dark ones perhaps, but incredible gifts he knew he could develop. He set about doing just that every chance he had, determined to protect those he loved. But it cost him dearly.

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Advertisement Dark Hope – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/dark-hope-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Tue, 28 Jan 2025 08:14:41 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/dark-hope-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 142916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)

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The next captivating novel in Christine Feehan’s #1 New York Times bestselling Carpathian series.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Part One

(Left) Unexpected chaos and change.

(Right) Confusion, manipulation and trickery.

Chapter

1

In the distance, dark clouds gathered over the sea in an angry roiling boil. The wind slammed hard into the surface, creating rough, hazardous waves that rushed toward shore like angry stallions. There was little beach between the sea and the vast forest that stretched almost to the shoreline. The canopy swayed and rocked, rustling tree branches and sending leaves and needles swirling through the air like weapons of destruction.

Darkness brought out the creatures of the night. Bats wheeled and dipped as they feasted on insects. Great round yellow eyes blinked from some of the higher tree limbs as the owls surveyed the forest floor, and the voles and mice rushed through rotting vegetation to get home. The merciless wind swept in from the sea, slamming into the stoic trees, bending them, causing creaks of protest, but the trees held, as they had for hundreds of years.

The village of Nachtbloem rested on the outskirts of the forest, so close that the wilderness crept forward as if to recover the site that had been carved from the woods. Night flowers grew wild in every meadow, tipping their faces toward the moon. The village was situated near the river and close to the ocean, where many of the inhabitants made their living fishing or sending their wares to neighboring countries via the sea route.

Often fierce storms brewed over the ocean and crashed over their homes, pouring water into the river so that it reacted like a snake. The river would swell up, a thrashing, roaring serpent, spewing the frothing, maddened water from its banks to flood the roads. With the roads impassable, the people were trapped in the village until the abundance of water soaked into the ground or they managed to fix it. It had happened often enough in the last two years that it no longer fazed them.

Silke Vriese Reinders knew storms like the ones Nachtbloem experienced were different. Everyone in the village was aware the weather wasn’t normal even though the storms came consistently in the usual months. It rained often in Holland, but in comparison to other countries, the weather was rather mild across the land. Living on the coast, they shouldn’t experience such violent storms.

With one arm, Silke encircled a tree trunk while she watched the ferocity of the waves pounding the shore. In the distance, waterspouts leapt across the choppy surface of the water, but the towering columns were ominous as they spun wildly, forming more and more geysers as they hurtled toward shore.

“Doesn’t look good,” Tora Kros said, standing on the other side of the tree. She was tall and willowy, with shining dark hair and gorgeous emerald green eyes.

“I think of these storms as tests,” Silke said. “Look into the clouds, Tora. You can make out the faces of our enemies.”

Tora followed her gaze to the dark clouds laced with lightning. As each cloud rolled and boiled as if in a cauldron, eyes glowed from the jagged lightning, demonic faces staring malevolently at the shore, forest and village. The faces distorted eerily as the clouds roiled and churned. Each face twisted and turned with the rolling cloud, but it was clear the glowing, malevolent eyes were marking the village and forest, attempting to see everything they could.

“A war is coming,” she whispered aloud to her best friend. “I read it again in the cards this evening, just as they have warned me for the last two years.”

The tree she held on to was solid, although slenderer than quite a few of the others. She needed the grounding when she was all too aware of the land shifting under her feet. In days long past, mythical creatures and demon slayers were considered part of everyday life. Now they existed only in video games. Movies were made about vampires and evil demons. Television shows depicted supernatural beings. No one believed in these things in modern times; at least it seemed that way. Those living in Nachtbloem knew better.

Three hundred people, give or take a few when elders died and babies were born, resided in the village of Nachtbloem. Although many people in Germany, the Netherlands and even Belgium claimed to be fully Frisii, the people living in that remote village were direct descendants of those from Germania times. The story of the battle between the Frisii and Roman invaders was always kept fresh in their minds, handed down from generation to generation during storytelling time.

In AD 28, the Frisii were the only people able to defeat the Roman army when their land had been invaded. At first, the Frisians lived alongside the Romans without rancor. When new leadership of the Romans demanded taxes to be paid in forms the Frisians didn’t have, wives and daughters were sold into slavery in order to satisfy the leader of the Romans. The Frisians rebelled and decided, with a small force, to attack the fortress where the leader was hiding. The Romans fought back and even managed to get reinforcements.

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Advertisement Betrayal Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/betrayal-road-torpedo-ink-read-online-christine-feehan Mon, 23 Sep 2024 09:20:52 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/betrayal-road-torpedo-ink-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)

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Deception cuts deep in the next propulsive novel in #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan’s Torpedo Ink motorcycle club series.

The stranger frequenting Azelie Vargas’s local coffee shop is a sight to behold. He’s tall, dark, muscular, and a complete distraction. She’s worried one look from his striking silver eyes will have her acting a fool. But it’s not a look that sets Azelie aflame—it’s the way he boldly tells her every dark, dirty thing he’d like to do to her. She should be scandalized. Instead, all she wants to do is say yes.

Andrii “Maestro” Federoff is in San Francisco on club business. Torpedo Ink needs information to bust up a human trafficking ring, and Maestro has found his mark. After weeks of stealthy observation, he’s not sure if Azelie is involved directly, or if she’s just working for some bad people. What he does know is that he needs to get close to her fast, and soon he can’t get enough.

What began as a setup quickly turns real. But no matter how hot they burn, Maestro’s betrayal could leave their hearts smoldering in the ashes.

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ONE

Azelie Vargas became aware of the whispers and giggles, and she looked up to see her three favorite seniors gesturing wildly toward the window. They were matchmakers, those three. They came into the coffee shop, every day at the same time, and ordered the same drinks and pastries. Sometimes Azelie treated them, knowing they were on a tight budget.

Penny Atwater had been best friends with China and Blanc Christian for nearly sixty years. They still lived next door to one another in San Francisco homes that shared a wall. None of them drove. They’d taken the bus everywhere as children growing up and then later continued to do so as adults. All three referred to themselves as widows and shared a love of dancing. Blanc had been a professional ballroom dancer and had taught in a studio with her sister, China.

Azelie loved their passion for life. She wasn’t so certain of their enthusiasm for finding her a romantic partner. Still, they made her laugh because they wore bright clothes and had such a joy for living. The three referred to themselves as “the merry widows” and then would laugh with such enthusiasm it was difficult not to join them in their merriment.

Two gentlemen, Doug Parsons and Carlton Gray, had been neighbors with the three women for over forty years. Their houses were on either side of the merry widows’ homes. They often came into the coffee shop around the same time as the three women, sitting with them and reminiscing about funny or poignant times from their past. Azelie enjoyed listening to them. She suspected most of those coming to the coffee shop did as well.

The coffee shop wasn’t a trendy one. It was a mom-and-pop organic coffee shop, so the prices were a little higher. But everyone who frequented it was loyal. Azelie went there to study for her classes or read. Sometimes she worked on the book she was currently writing. She’d been lucky enough to have three books published and had a contract for a fourth. They were moderately successful, which meant she made some money on them. Not a lot, but it helped to pay for her college classes.

The man the three seniors were all atwitter over stood on the sidewalk just outside the coffee shop. He’d come in twice before with another man. Both times the women in the shop—including her—were rendered speechless at the sheer beauty and power the two men exuded. Even Shaila Manger, the owner, came out of the kitchen to ogle the men. Her husband, David, simply laughed good-naturedly, not in the least upset that his wife of thirty-eight years found the two men hot.

Personally, Azelie did have a bit of a crush on the taller of the two men. Just looking at him took her breath away. She was careful not to stare when he had come in with his friend. In fact, she kept her gaze glued to her laptop. That didn’t stop the three seniors from gesturing wildly and giggling like schoolgirls. The men had to have noticed—they would have been blind not to—but she refused to acknowledge the matchmaking or the fact that the women had managed to ferret out the names of the newcomers.

Naturally, it was Mr. Gorgeous and Powerful that was coming into the coffee shop alone today. She would have been perfectly fine if his friend Lazar Alexeev had come in. Her body didn’t have the slightest reaction to Lazar—but Andrii Federoff, holy cow, she’d gone up in proverbial flames. That had never happened to her. Not once. It was disconcerting and just a tiny bit horrifying that without even trying Andrii could set her body on fire.

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Advertisement Leopard’s Hunt (Leopard People #14) Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/leopards-hunt-leopard-people-14-read-online-christine-feehan Sun, 03 Mar 2024 19:19:03 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/leopards-hunt-leopard-people-14-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Christine Feehan Series: Leopard People Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 127461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)

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The next exhilarating Leopard novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.

In this pulse-pounding novel in the #1 New York Times bestselling Leopard series, animal instinct unites two elite shifters whose heads are at war with their hearts.

Gorya Amurov might be known as his family's peacekeeper, but the leopard inside him wants nothing more than to claw to the surface and unleash hell. A harsh life has shaped him into a vicious fighter with a calm exterior, but Gorya knows it's only a matter of time until he loses all control. Deep down, he truly believes he'd be better off dead, and that no woman will ever accept him as a mate....

Maya Averina has spent years hunting the criminals who destroyed her life, and she always takes down her prey. She keeps to herself, stays under the radar, and never loses focus. But with her body burning up and her mind distracted by her first heat, an ambush takes her by surprise. Now she's trapped, an unmated female shifter about to be sold off to the highest bidder. Maya is ready to fight her way out—until the most dangerous, powerful man she's ever encountered arrives to set her free.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Gedeon Volkov had been a fixer for years—and he was considered the best in his field. There was a reason for that, which few understood, and it was better if they didn’t. He was a shifter—an Amur leopard. Not only was he a shifter; he was also elite. As far as he knew, there were only two of them in the world—his wife, Meiling Chang, and himself. There was always the chance that a rare few more might exist, but if so, he’d never caught so much as a hint of a rumor of one.

Intellectually, he knew there had to be more. Others had to have come before them. They didn’t just appear out of nowhere. Anomalies. Three families in three countries: South Korea, southeastern Russia and China near the Russian border. There had to be others.

Meiling and he had discussed it and even quietly tried to find others like themselves, but if they were out there, they were hiding just as Gedeon and Meiling were. They were faster and stronger than other shifters. Their brains worked at greater speeds. They’d been born that way, and because of it their families had been targeted and destroyed. They had watched everyone they loved be betrayed, tortured and murdered. Both lived under the threat of a death sentence should anyone discover they still lived.

Gedeon had been a loner for years, feared by those who hired him, which kept him alive. He worked mainly for the bratva, the Russian mob, and they could be quite brutal if one didn’t get the job done. He had the reputation of always getting it done. When he’d met Meiling, they had joined forces, another added layer of protection. Eventually they had become more than business partners and were now married.

“Why do I have the feeling this might be more dangerous than what we’ve been doing?” Meiling asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

She’d taught him fun. He’d never had that before Meiling. She’d brought so much to him, had become his world in a short time. He knew he couldn’t live without her. He wouldn’t want to. More importantly, his leopard, Slayer, always a killer and difficult to control, would go insane. Some leopards could drive their human male counterparts to become killers. Slayer was one of those alpha leopards. Gedeon had always known there would come a day when he would be forced to suicide to protect those around him. Then came Meiling. His Lotus Blossom. Just when he was certain he couldn’t love her more, there was always more.

Still, Meiling might have laughter in her voice, but there was also a bit of sobriety there. A warning. Her radar had gone off, the same as his, which didn’t make sense. Drake Donovan would never have asked them to consider this job if he didn’t think it was legitimate. His company was solid. Renowned. Known and respected the world over. That was the only reason Gedeon had even considered working for him.

Gedeon and Meiling had talked for a long while about getting out of the business he’d been in now that they were married and she was pregnant. He was a man of action, and he’d gone his own way for far too long. It wasn’t as if he were ever going to take orders from anyone else. He needed not only the mental activity but also the physicality that he’d had for years of being a fixer.

He’d had to realistically face who he was many times in his life, and he’d learned not to shy away from the truth of who and what he was. Fixing problems within the bratva wasn’t always about negotiating or trading favors. Often, it was about having to kill, and Gedeon was excellent at that particular skill.

He had Meiling now and his number one priority was keeping her and his children safe. He wanted her to have friends. He wanted his children to have them. Being a fixer wasn’t exactly conducive to those goals.

Drake Donovan, the man who owned the Donovan International Security Company, had approached him with the offer of a job. One of his clients had specifically asked Donovan to try to recruit Gedeon for the head of his security. The client was not only bratva but also a leopard shifter, as were many of his men. He’d recently taken over a territory about which little was known. He was attempting to free it of all human trafficking. In doing so, he had incurred the wrath of locals who had been profiting from the business for years.

The locals weren’t his only problem. Many of the men under him weren’t happy he wasn’t continuing that part of the business. Those his predecessor had been doing business with really weren’t happy. Basically, it was a nightmare they would be helping the man with. Ordinarily, it was exactly the thing Gedeon would have jumped on.

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Advertisement Dark Memory – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/dark-memory-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Mon, 09 Oct 2023 12:39:48 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/dark-memory-dark-carpathians-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)

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Safia Meziane has trained since birth to protect her tribe, the family she holds so dear. All along she told herself the legends she was raised with were simply that. But now, she must call upon all of her skills to fight what lies ahead. Evil has come to their small town on the cost of Algeria, evil that Safia can feel but cannot see.

She is terrified she will not be able to protect the ones she loves. As her family’s “chosen one,” she has always believed she would face this task alone—until her family reveals she has been promised to a warrior who will join her. An outsider. A Carpathian. . . .

Petru Cioban is one of the oldest Carpathians in existence, and he has spent all that time without the soothing presence of his lifemate. For two thousand years he has waited for this woman to be reborn, only to find her in the sights of a monster he has fought before, a vampire risen again to finish a battle started centuries ago.

Now, Petru must face his greatest enemy and his greatest shame. He has no hope that Safia will forgive his betrayal once the memories of her past life return to her. But he will not make the same mistake again, even if he has to sacrifice everything for the woman who has claimed his immortal soul.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER

1

The breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean Sea brought a hint of the coming storm with it. Safia Meziane stood at the very top of the hillside overlooking the turquoise water, which was now beginning to grow choppy as little fingers of wind touched the glassy surface. The knots in her stomach tightened as she watched the water begin to churn. Ordinarily, she loved storms, but she was uneasy, certain the weather heralded something much more sinister than lightning and thunder.

“I will never tire of this view,” Amastan Meziane said, his gaze on the sea. “As a young man, I would stand in this exact spot with my father and feel fortunate to live in this place.”

“Just as I do,” Safia admitted, looking up at her grandfather.

Safia’s family was Imazighen. Outsiders sometimes referred to them as Berbers. Her family owned a very prosperous farm located up in the hills outside the town of Dellys. They had extraordinary views of the sea and the harbor. The farm kept a variety of animals, mainly sheep and goats, and harvested the wool, spinning and dying it for clothes and rugs they sold at the local market or sent with Safia’s oldest sister’s family across the Sahara to markets. Some of the family members made jewelry and others pottery. All contributed to the success of the household, farm and tribe.

Her grandfather Amastan was the acknowledged head of her tribe. Like her grandfather, Safia had always felt very lucky to have been born into her family. To live where she lived. To be raised on her family farm. She had two older sisters who doted on her and three older brothers who always treated her as if she were a treasure, just as her parents and grandparents did. They all worked hard on the farm. When her oldest sister, Illi, married and left with her husband, Kab, no one resented the extra work. They were happy for her, although Safia missed her terribly and looked forward to the times when she returned from her travels.

Beside her, Amastan sighed. “Our family has had centuries of good years, Safia, and we can’t complain. We’ve always known this time would come.”

He felt it, too. It wasn’t her imagination. Evil rode in the wind of that storm. It had quietly invaded their farm. She had known all along but had done her best to tell herself it was her wild imagination. The number of invasive insects had suddenly increased. Three weeks earlier, she had begun to note the tracks of an unfamiliar predator. One week ago, several predators had eviscerated a goat near the cliffs. Whatever it was seemed to disappear into the ground when she’d tried to follow it. There had been more than one, but she couldn’t determine the number or exactly what it was.

“I love the way Dellys looks, Jeddi, day or night. The blend of beautiful modern structures built so close to the ancient ruins and the way the ruins are on the hillside facing the sea. I love the sunrises and sunsets, and the sea with its colors and ever-changing mood, the markets and the people. Dellys is so modern, and yet our history, our culture, is right there for everyone to see. And on the hillside, evidence of our history remains. We’re like that. Our family. Like Dellys. So modern on the outside. Anyone looking at us would believe we’re so progressive.” She loved her life. Mostly, she loved the huge tribe she called family.

Safia didn’t look at her grandfather; she kept her gaze fixed on the beauty of the sea. The women in her family were well educated, unlike many females in other tribes. They spoke Tamazight and Arabic, but along with that, they had learned French and English. Safia had been required to learn an ancient language that none of the others had to master. Her grandmother and mother were able to speak it, and she had one friend, Aura, who was an expert in the language, so she was fortunate to be able to practice with her. Safia never questioned why she had to learn such an ancient language that no one spoke in modern times. When her grandfather or grandmother decreed anything, it was done, usually without question.

Her grandfather not only believed they should expand their thinking, he insisted his daughters and granddaughters learn how to use weapons and to fight in hand-to-hand combat just as well as the males in the family. The women took care of the house, but they also worked on the farm. They learned to do everything needed and were always treated as valued members of the tribe. Their voices were heard when it came to solving problems. It was all very progressive and different from tradition in many other tribes.

Her grandfather arranged marriages in the traditional way. His word was law. He held the men they married to a very high standard. She couldn’t imagine what would happen should he ever find out his daughters or granddaughters were mistreated. Amastan appeared stern to outsiders, but he was always soft-spoken and fair. No one ever wanted to upset him. It was a rare event, but when it happened, he had the backing of the entire tribe, not that he needed it. He was a force to be reckoned with.

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Advertisement Shadow Dance – Shadow Riders Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/shadow-dance-shadow-riders-read-online-christine-feehan Sat, 26 Aug 2023 11:52:43 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/shadow-dance-shadow-riders-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Virgin Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)

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Tensions and passions rise in the city that never sleeps in this propulsive novel in #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan's Shadow Riders series.

As the head of the New York City Shadow Riders and his branch of the Ferraro family, Geno bears the weight of dual responsibilities on his broad shoulders. There's nothing more important to Geno than protecting his territory and his famiglia. So when his own parents become the latest victims in a string of vicious murders, Geno is ready to go scorched earth. He thinks he has the assassin in his sights, but he's unprepared for the firestorm their connection ignites....

Amaranthe Aubert's lithe dancer's body conceals a spine of steel. Even held captive and faced with the threat of lethal interrogation, she's not about to cave under pressure. She had nothing to do with the murders, no matter what the ruthless man in front of her believes. But before Amara knows what's happening, Geno connects to her in the shadows, stripping her bare of all artifice. Now, she has no way to hide her true reason for being in New York--and nowhere to run from the man who's very presence steals the very breath from her lungs....

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

Geno Ferraro leaned one hip against the wall as he looked through the two-way mirror at the prisoner seated very uncomfortably in the metal chair in the middle of the interrogation room. The room was all about efficiency. Drains, overhead sprays and hooks, long counters laid out with power tools and instruments one could use to help the prisoner regain their memory very quickly if they’d mysteriously lost it. A shower. A toilet. A sink. Even a tub. Just about anything one needed for a successful interrogation if one was serious. He was very serious. Murder was a serious crime—doubly so if the victims were one’s parents.

“Something’s wrong, Stefano. I can feel it,” he said, never once taking his gaze from the prisoner. “I don’t want her to see you or my brothers. No one else. Fiero and Donte Latini, my main personal protectors, picked her up and brought her here. It couldn’t be helped that she saw their faces, but I don’t want her to see anyone else until I know what’s going on. I sent for you because I need someone I can trust implicitly to help me figure this out.”

Geno had been head of the Ferraro family in New York for years. The Ferraro territory was a crime-free, safe place for those who lived and worked in the neighborhood. His neighborhood. He knew every shop owner. Every resident. This was his community, and he was responsible for it. He took that responsibility very seriously. Ferraro territory started right on the edge of Little Italy and ran out all the way west through Tribeca to the Hudson River.

“I don’t just know every one of the businesses and those living in my territory, Stefano, I know most of those in Little Italy. They know me and my brothers and our famiglia. They know they can count on us if there’s need. Mama was raised with her second cousins, Viola and Noemi. Both married and became nurses. When they retired, they went to work in their husbands’ shops. Viola’s husband, Marcelle, had a hat store. Noemi’s husband, Caio, had a very high-end watch shop.”

Stefano Ferraro regarded the prisoner with shrewd assessing eyes. He ran the Ferraro territory in Chicago and had interrogated many prisoners under tough circumstances. He turned that piercing gaze from the prisoner to his cousin.

“There have always been petty crimes, thefts, tourists getting pockets picked, I was told, but our family was never asked to help,” Geno continued. “Mama would visit her cousins and come home at times and tell us that the thefts were becoming more frequent, but no one thought to come to us. A few months ago, I could see concern on her face and strain on Papa’s. He’s always been distant, but he became even more so. I wondered why they didn’t insist on investigating.”

Geno pulled his gaze away from the prisoner to look at his cousin. Although they were somewhat close in age, he’d always looked up to Stefano.

“I rarely questioned my parents. Once they turned over the reins of the business to me, they no longer gave advice to me on any subject, including parenting. They made it clear they would only do their job and nothing more. My brothers, Salvatore and Lucca, don’t remember them any other way, but I do. Not even concerning themselves with the escalating problems in Little Italy, with their friends and even famiglia’s livelihoods and safety, made no sense to me.”

Geno shoved a hand through his hair. “Granted, in the beginning the crimes were petty. Stolen merchandise. Tourists being robbed with more frequency. But the thefts became more violent over a period of months.”

“I take it your parents refused to turn the series of crimes over to investigators,” Stefano ventured. His voice was low.

Geno sighed. “They wouldn’t even discuss the subject, not even when many of the business owners began to look on the Ferraros with suspicion.”

“Why would that be?” Stefano’s expression didn’t change.

“Many of the robberies occurred after hours. The safes were locked. There was no evidence of a break-in. No images were caught on surveillance tapes in the store or outside of it. Those who knew of our reputation began to worry that one of us was stealing and the others were protecting a family member.”

“And yet your parents refused to order an investigation.”

Geno nodded slowly.

“You could have ordered one.”

“I could have, but I was gone more than I was home. We’re short of riders, and I was continually taking rotations. I had hoped my parents would step up and see that there was a problem, especially as the robberies began to spill over into our territory. Not only didn’t that happen, but when it did and I insisted we investigate, they threw roadblocks in the way of the investigation.”

“That makes no sense.”

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Advertisement Ghostly Game (GhostWalkers #19) Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/ghostly-game-ghostwalkers-19-read-online-christine-feehan Tue, 09 May 2023 20:48:27 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ghostly-game-ghostwalkers-19-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Authors: Christine Feehan Series: GhostWalkers Series by Christine Feehan
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)

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Gideon "Eagle" Carpenter is used to rolling with the punches life has thrown at him. It's the only thing that's kept him alive. He and his team of GhostWalkers have seen and experienced it all. He does his best to live with all the sins written on his soul. Then he hears the laughter of a woman with the ability to erase--even for a few previous moments--the darkness of his past.

Laurel "Rory" Chappel has always been a nomad. She's accustomed to taking care of herself, despite the physical challenges she lives with. She thinks she's too weak to find real love, but that doesn't stop her interest in Gideon from turning into a full-on addiction. He's all rough edges and danger contrasted with a tenderness that makes her feel safe. Still, after a life spent in motion, she's not sure she knows how to stay in one place.

Gideon hopes he can persuade Rory to take a chance on him with every electric touch. But soon, life conspires against him, forcing the GhostWalker to risk everything to protect the woman he loves.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Sometimes things just go south, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” Gideon “Eagle” Carpenter eased his body back slowly until he was entirely supine, linked his fingers behind his head and stared up at the stars.

This was San Francisco. Viewing stars wasn’t always easy because fog liked to creep in at night, at least where he was located. He was on the roof of the four-story, wedge-shaped original warehouse made of red bricks that rose like a monstrosity to stand out among all the cool newer concrete and steel warehouses surrounding it. Considering that the building was the only one on the street to survive the 1906 earthquake and fires and was still standing, despite the city condemning it and threatening to demolish it several times, Gideon thought that what others considered an eyesore was worth saving. So he’d saved it. Mostly for this—the rooftop. He’d used every penny of his share of the money and then some to see to it that the best of the best ensured the old building would withstand anything thrown at it for the next hundred years.

“Yeah, Gideon,” he repeated aloud. “Shit happens. You roll with it. You don’t let it get to you. You come here, high in the sky, and you get rid of it.”

Because shit did happen in his life far too often. It had been happening since the day he was born, and he was damn sure it would continue to do so until the day he died. He’d created the mantra, found the highest place possible wherever he was, repeated that shit over and over until he made himself let the clouds take it all away. They had to take it away. Sometimes, like tonight, when his churning gut was in knots and the devil was riding him hard, he had to call on the universe to shoulder his shit.

A whisper of movement had him dropping his hands slowly to his sides, the fingers on one hand wrapping around the butt of one of his favorite weapons. He could shoot the wings off a fly in the dead of night if he had to. His other hand settled around the hilt of his knife. Up close and personal wasn’t necessarily his first choice, but he had skills, and when push came to shove, he could use them. Few knew the code to open the hidden stairs to the rooftop, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He was a careful man. That had been ingrained in him, long before he’d taken to living on the streets and a ragtag family of sorts had been formed by several throwaway kids—of which he’d been one.

He waited in silence, air moving evenly through his lungs. The trapdoor opened carefully. No one emerged.

“Gideon? You going to take my head off?”

The voice was soft, with the merest hint of an accent even those with great hearing couldn’t detect. Javier Enderman. One of his brothers from the street. Family. One of his brothers from the service. One he’d live and die for. Gideon hadn’t expected him, but he should have.

“I’m considering it. I’d have to get up to do it, and I’m not liking the idea of moving, so I think you’re safe enough.”

Javier pushed the trapdoor open all the way and climbed onto the roof. He was all muscle, but with his lithe build, it was impossible to tell. He looked young; impossible to guess his age. In their business, it was a decided advantage. Thick black hair fell onto his forehead, spilled over his ears and curled around the back of his neck. He had black, black eyes that appeared to look right through a man to uncover every secret. Once he stepped into a shadow, it was nearly impossible to find him if he didn’t want to be found. Gideon considered him the most dangerous member of their team.

Javier barely made a whisper of sound as he crossed the roof to take a seat a few feet from Gideon. He added energy drinks to the cooler and three Ziploc bags of what appeared to be fresh spinach chips to the lock box that was never locked beside Gideon.

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Where the hell did you get those?” There was reverence in his voice—awe, even—because fresh spinach chips, the real deal out of the oven, deserved awe.

“Swiped them. Stole them. Lifted them. It was a sweet little heist too. Right out from under Rose’s nose. In her kitchen. Know how much you love them, and I’ve got to keep my skills sharp, so we both win.”

“Rose will cut you into little pieces if she catches you stealing her spinach chips. They take forever to make,” Gideon said.

Javier shrugged. “You want me to take them back, I’ll do it.”

“Hell no.” Gideon burst out laughing. “She’s not going to kill me; she’ll go after you. And then there’s Kane. You lift a finger to defend yourself when his cute little lethal wife, Rose, is cutting off your balls, Kane will beat you to a bloody pulp.”

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Advertisement Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan http://www.books2020.com/recovery-road-torpedo-ink-read-online-christine-feehan Sun, 29 Jan 2023 00:17:27 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/recovery-road-torpedo-ink-read-online-christine-feehan Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Authors: Christine Feehan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)

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A broken man finds a woman worth living for in the new novel in #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan’s Torpedo Ink motorcycle club series.

Kir “Master” Vasiliev doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. He’s a burnt-out shell with no one and nothing but his club. Whatever Torpedo Ink needs, Master will put himself in harm’s way time after time. If he doesn’t make it back, he’s certain everyone will move on just fine.

Investment banker Ambrielle Moore knows her own mind, and she’s not willing to settle for anyone. So when a second-rate gangster and his thugs try to coerce her into marriage—and giving up all of her family’s money—she’s having none of it. Until they turn to cold-blooded murder.

Grieving and enraged, Ambrie is ready to go scorched earth on her captors when Master shows up anticipating a damsel in distress. But Ambrie is nothing like he expected, and everything he never knew he desired.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

TORPEDO INK MEMBERS

Viktor Prakenskii aka Czar—President

Lyov Russak aka Steele—Vice President

Savva Pajari aka Reaper—Sergeant at Arms

Savin Pajari aka Savage—Sergeant at Arms

Isaak Koval aka Ice—Secretary

Dmitry Koval aka Storm

Alena Koval aka Torch

Luca Litvin aka Code—Hacker

Maksimos Korsak aka Ink

Kasimir Popov aka Preacher

Lana Popov aka Widow

Nikolaos Bolotan aka Mechanic

Pytor Bolotan aka Transporter

Andrii Federoff aka Maestro

Gedeon Lazaroff aka Player

Kir Vasiliev aka Master—Treasurer

Lazar Alexeev aka Keys

Aleksei Solokov aka Absinthe

Rurik Volkov aka Razrushitel/Destroyer

NEWER PATCHED MEMBERS

Gavriil Prakenskii

Casimir Prakenskii

Fatei Molchalin

PROSPECTS

Glitch

Hyde

SIBLINGS WITHIN THE GROUP

Viktor (Czar), Gavriil and Casimir

Reaper and Savage

Mechanic and Transporter

Ice, Storm and Alena (Torch)

Preacher and Lana (Widow)

TEAMS

Czar heads Team One

Reaper, Savage, Ice, Storm, Transporter, Alena, Absinthe, Mechanic, Destroyer

Steele heads Team Two

Keys, Master, Player, Maestro, Lana, Preacher, Ink, Code

OLD LADIES

Blythe, Lissa, Lexi, Anya, Breezy, Soleil, Scarlet, Zyah, Seychelle

ONE

Everyone had a breaking point. Everyone. Kir “Master” Vasiliev was well aware he had been past that point when he agreed to take the assignment. He never should have done it. Burning out when behind bars with no backup was a bad idea, especially if he didn’t give a fuck whether he lived or died—which he didn’t.

The only reason he didn’t kill the two guards and the four prisoners right then and there was because he had a job to do, and he never let a job go unfinished. That was drilled into him. His club, Torpedo Ink, needed the intelligence, and he had been given the assignment to get the information and then kill the four men who had threatened their president and his family. That meant the two dirty guards who were involved with them had to die as well.

The eighteen charter members of Torpedo Ink had grown up together in a place loosely called a “school” in Russia. Their parents had been murdered by a powerful man named Kostya Sorbacov. He took the children of his political enemies and placed them in one of four schools supposedly to become assets for their country. That was true of three of the four schools, although all of them were brutal.

The fourth school was located far from the city, where the criminally insane prisoners—the ones the government refused to acknowledge existed—were housed. Pedophiles. Rapists. Serial killers. These were men and women Sorbacov utilized as the instructors for the children in the fourth school. Supposedly the children were to become assassins—assets for their country. What they really were, were playthings—toys for Sorbacov and his friends. Over twenty years, two hundred eighty-nine children entered that school. Only nineteen survived.

Destroyer, the nineteenth survivor, had recently found his way to them and joined Torpedo Ink. Like Master, Destroyer knew his way around prisons, but Master had been trained to take these missions from a young age, and Torpedo Ink relied on him. Of all the members, he was the only one with a record in their new country. They all had impeccable paperwork, thanks to Code. Even Master’s prison records were mostly manufactured. Still, the fact that he was officially dirty, when the rest of his club was officially clean, set him apart. Only Destroyer would understand that concept.

Torpedo Ink now spent a good deal of their time hunting pedophiles and those running human trafficking rings. None of them could ever live normal lives after what had been done to them as children, teens and young men and women. To survive, they had turned their bodies into weapons and developed what others might refer to as psychic talents. Czar had explained that he believed everyone had talents, they just didn’t have to use them so they never worked at making them strong. The members of Torpedo Ink had started as young children to practice in those long, endless days and nights in the basement of their hideous torture school.

Master was positive the cameras in the laundry room where the guards had brought him had been turned off. After all, the guards wouldn’t want it to be caught on film if the four prisoners about to beat the shit out of him accidentally killed him. Still, that didn’t stop him from making certain the cameras weren’t working. He wasn’t about to take any chances. He never did. That was what kept him from ever getting caught.

Master had been sure to offend these specific prisoners several times in the yard that afternoon, even after he’d been warned. He’d done it out of anyone’s hearing so that when the prisoners and the guards were found dead in the morning, and he was back in his cell, no one would think to connect him with the bodies. That was always key in this kind of mission. As the primary assassin, you were never caught with the target, not by anyone. There was nothing to connect you to the death. If you had to draw attention to yourself to get put into solitary, you picked a fight with some other prisoner, not the target.

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