Finding the Blood Assassin [Lords of the Expanse 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  Lords of the Expanse 3

  Finding the Blood Assassin

  Raven Kato takes the assignments no one else will, the suicide missions, the ones with a low probability of success. He doesn’t care about the risks or the chances of survival. He’s all for going out in a blaze of glory. As long as it helps his people and keeps the Vampire race at the top of the food chain, he’s all for it.

  Jamison Montague is tired of being called upon to find people. Some folks just don’t want to be found. Her newest assignment is a prime example of that. Unfortunately she doesn’t have a lot of choice in the matter once she gets a read on her target. But what she ends up being pulled into may very well end not only her career, but her life.

  Together this unlikely pair will have to find a way to get along, for they will all too soon have to depend on one another for everything. Not only their survival in a deadly game to which they don’t know the rules, but for their very future and happiness. As danger starts to close in, as their opponents are revealed, and as their hearts become involved, they will have to make the hardest choice of all. Fight for what they want, or give in and give up.

  Genre: Futuristic, Science Fiction, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 60,379 words

  FINDING THE BLOOD ASSASSIN

  Lords of the Expanse 3

  Honor James

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  FINDING THE BLOOD ASSASSIN

  Copyright © 2014 by Honor James

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-830-1

  First E-book Publication: January 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Finding the Blood Assassin by Honor James from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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  DEDICATION

  For my readers, as always, you are the most amazing and supportive people on the planet. I couldn’t do this without you and would never want to even try. Here’s to 2014, a New Year with new potentials and opportunities for us all.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  About the Author

  FINDING THE BLOOD ASSASSIN

  Lords of the Expanse 3

  HONOR JAMES

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter 1

  “We’ve received another message.”

  “Gods, what is it this time?”

  “If we do not find what they want and give it to them the next time, Lord Raven Kato is tortured. Not only will we be viewing it, so will the rest of our people.”

  “They have a plan, a very specific one obviously. What we need to figure out is what they hope to gain by us giving over what they are demanding and quit worrying about actually doing it.”

  “Should we not be more concerned with getting him back?”

  “No. We need to worry about what they know, what he’s told them, and what they plan to do with any of said information. Getting him back is not our primary concern. Ensuring our world is safe from attack is, and always will be, our main concern.”

  “Do you honestly believe he would break under any form of torture?”

  “There is torture to the body and then there is torture to the soul. Every man has his breaking point, mayhap they found his.”

  “I doubt that, this is the Lord Raven Kato. He is not one that will break,” the commander said to his underling, surety in his voice.

  “No.” The only man who had yet to speak now stepped forward into the glow of the directional lighting pointed at the table. “One thing I know about him, he has no such weakness. If they know something, they are being fed it from inside these chambers.”

  “Impossible!” many voices scoffed with soft, mocking chuckles and clear derision.

  “And yet you think the only man to have survived ten years in Syndicate hands, who killed his jailers and made his way home, with more wrong with him than right, would break under a month of such mild tortures?” The derision was clear in the speaker’s voice, it was clear that he trusted the one held, the Lord that they were currently discussing. He knew the Lord Kato, knew that the man would never break under torture, however his brethren didn’t hold such beliefs.

  “There is nothing mild about that,” one protested, only to be cut off.

  “For you, perhaps. For him it is very mild. I know what he suffered in Syndicate hands hour after hour and that”—he snorted condescendingly at them all with a sneer—“is nothing to a man that literally no longer feels anything.”

  “If what you say is
true, then…” another murmured softly, as though to speak the words would bring them to fruition.

  Nodding, the other Lord hidden in shadows lifted a mocking brow. “We have someone selling out their very people and you’re only just cluing in.”

  Not a man there made another protest. There was nothing more they could say to that truth.

  * * * *

  Lifting his head ever so slightly and slowly, Raven looked around through the slits he made his eyes. Bound by his hands in silver shackles, his wrists were burned badly and his strength was waning. But he was still more dangerous than his captors could ever imagine. At least they had been smart in one regard. They had him hanging over the deep pit with silver-coated spikes several meters below the lip of the pit. A pit that was over forty feet in diameter and an excellent deterrent in place of a live guard. Had he been of the mind to, he could have had a living man release him, but the pit couldn’t be talked into anything.

  He was alone. For the moment anyway. But then again he was never truly alone, for they were always watching him on the closed circuit feed. Not moving any more than necessary out of respect for his wrists and the rest of his brutalized body, Raven made a survey of the room. Quickly, he noted the chair to one side as well as the rack they so dearly loved to strap him to for their pleasure. Beyond that the room held nothing else. Odd—very odd. Before, he thought with the barest of frowns, there had been a table, three more chairs, and the equipment to broadcast his “questioning” to the Alliance, the Vampire Nation Alliance. His people. All of that was always in the space with him. To not be there did not bode well, at least for him that was.

  A soft scrape of a boot to stone warned that his jailers were about to show themselves. Closing his eyes, he waited in silence for what was to come.

  “Time to sleep, beast,” the deep, ragged voice cackled. The soft click had him tensing, and then the sharp pain in his right side that heralded the burn had him hissing softly moments before darkness crept in. “And now the fun begins,” was the last thing that Raven heard before he slipped into unconsciousness.

  * * * *

  “Welcome back, beast,” a new voice said in sultry tones as a soft, smooth hand stroked slowly down his chest. “We so did not want you to miss out on any of the fun,” she said, a definite smile in her voice.

  Opening his eyes, all black from blood hunger, he stared blankly at their torture expert. Zalan was her name, exotic in looks, frail in form, built for sex, and the most vicious being he’d had the displeasure of ever meeting. But she had nothing on the Syndicate, as a whole that was, when it came to torture. Although, and this he would give her, she really was quite creative, whereas the Syndicate had stuck to tried and true brutality to make their point.

  Feeling her run her finger down to his hip, Raven realized they’d stripped him bare again, oh joy of all joys. Smiling at him, Zalan held out that same hand and Raven watched dispassionately as a syringe was handed to her. He knew at least part of what was to come, and from the tools, he was piecing the rest of it together. What interested him, though, was the fact that there were no recording devices this time around.

  Moments after the liquid was pushed into his bloodstream, Raven knew what the fluid was for. His blood began to move faster, his skin tingled, his heart raced, and his cock rose hard, thick, and long into the air. Still uncaring, he watched Zalan pick up the long needle-like device and, with undeniable sick pleasure on her face, she began to pierce his body. In the holes she put through his nipples were placed thick rings of metal that were sealed closed under intense heat and odd little barbell-shaped ones down the underside of his cock, a lot of them. The pain was excruciating, especially when she seemingly had a few extra and decided something even softer required “decoration.”

  Not once during the whole procedure did Raven move, never did he flinch and, not even once did he make so much as the barest of sounds. Which obviously annoyed Zalan because she had them hook the various bits of metal to little wires that trailed off toward what he was guessing would be a lot of voltage. Unfortunately, he was right, and even with his body bent up over the table, something he couldn’t control, he let no sound escape. But by the gods did it pill him off. Probably not what she’d have done had she known the truth.

  When they stopped the current to adjust a set of the tiny wires, he decided that as much fun as it had all been he was bored. With a feral grin at Zalan, her only warning, he broke free. From there it was utter chaos as he tore into them despite the silver still on his wrists and all the pieces piercing his flesh. He was a whirlwind of death.

  Sometime later he stopped, bathed in blood and gore, chest heaving as he sucked in air and listened. Tilting his head slightly, he paid attention to the deceptive silence as his mind kicked in and he began to plan. He needed clothing and weapons, and then he would need to head for the shuttle area. There, if luck would hold but a little longer, he could find a craft capable of getting him back home. He had to find someone, and then after asking his question, he planned on ripping the bastard’s still beating heart from his chest.

  Under half an hour after his escape from the rack, he was clean, dressed, armed to the teeth, and starving. Whatever had been in the syringe was pushing the bloodlust closer to the edge, a very dangerous state after a month of being starved and drained almost constantly just for fun. Rolling his shoulders, he pushed the hunger away as he’d been trained to do and focused on getting away. Heading out, he moved cautiously but quickly. Every moment he delayed was time they would have to realize he was free and that they were down half their garrison and so-called support staff.

  Silent kills. That was all he did on his journey to the shuttle area, even taking a few extra and precious seconds to stash the bodies from immediate discovery. It was all necessary, though. Any extra time free of discovery was additional time he needed to get away from there.

  Finally, he thought upon reaching the last door, he was at the shuttle area and steps from being truly free. But, as with all good things, it was not to be that easy. Why he’d actually thought it would be he’d never know. Snarling silently, teeth fully elongated, Raven slid through the door and used the shadows to his advantage as he approached the last being between him and what he sought.

  Female, close, and…Vampire? Lifting his head in confusion, Raven stepped farther back into the shadows as he tracked her by sound and other skills he possessed. When she was close enough he whipped out a hand, caught her by the throat, and pulled her to him as he spun and, in the next movement, slammed her back to the crates, hiding him from sight.

  “I’m in a very, very bad mood and extremely hungry,” he spoke quietly in a dark voice. It was one no one liked to hear and, on more than one occasion, he’d actually been asked to refrain from speaking if at all possible. Because of people’s reactions to his voice, he rarely spoke unless he wanted the fear of the gods thrust into someone. “I will only ask once, and you will speak honestly or you will die,” he said softly, his eyes glowing red. He was having trouble controlling the bloodlust this close to a female of his species. Loosening his hand just a little, enough for her to speak but tight enough to continue to convey his threat of killing her, he tipped his head slightly. “Who the hell are you?”

  Chapter 2

  She was ten when she was first taken on the first mission with her father. There was nothing like an Alliance vessel, especially a war Alliance vessel. She loved the times with her father, a man who would never father a son. He gave her everything, and he taught her everything, but none outside of his closest in command knew the true depth of the woman called Jamison Montague.

  Most women of the Vampire nation went through their hormonal beginnings, their stride into womanhood, at the tender age of one hundred. Jamison, however, didn’t.

  What some called a Seer gave a sign that she would find her womanhood at the age of seventy-five.

  * * * *

  “For fifteen years I have been a part of your crew, Father. For fiftee
n years I have done everything from ensuring the recycle conduits were clean to serving coffee to piloting fighters and shuttling dignitaries. I am a part of your crew, Father. However, you won’t see me as such. Why?”

  “Because you are my daughter and because you are still just a baby, Jami. You shouldn’t be on the front lines any longer. You need to spend time with your mother, learning to be a lady so that one day you can marry well and bring me a son for whom I can pass my house to.”

  She knew the truth for what it was, and it was killing her but she nodded. “Father, I will not become a woman for another seventy-five years. That is too much time to spend with mother.” At least that was the time she had thought she had, and should have had. Jamison had never believed the Seer who prophesized that she would go through her puberty at the age of seventy-five instead of one hundred. Jamison loved her mother, she really did. One could only take so much of her mother, and her father knew that.

  “I know that, Jami, but with the mission that I’m about to leave on, I won’t be back before you should begin your training. Go, be with your mother and try to learn from her?” he asked as he laid sturdy dark hands on her straight shoulders. “And I don’t want you anywhere on a ship when you go through the hormonal changes of a woman. You deserve far more than being on a ship full of men when all you want is…” He trailed off and bumped her cheek with his closed fist. A gentle brush of knuckles lovingly given to his only child. “However, as soon as you have finished your training with your mother, you can come back to my ship. Once you come back I will begin to train you for engineering.”