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Authors: Cyndi Friberg

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Space Opera

BOOK: Alpha Hunter
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“Not a problem. We volunteered for this mission. You were more or less drafted.”

Lor went on detailing the information revealed by the numerous interrogations, but Angie was distracted by Kris’ suggestion. He was right. In many ways, she was their best hope of finding Nazerel. If they had been able to flash in with a larger force, maybe he wouldn’t have escaped. She sighed. The past couldn’t be changed, but what about the future?

They knew the team house was nearby. How hard could it be for her to determine where it was and what Nazerel intended to do with his larger force. Would he expand the hunt and put more women in danger or l
ie low for a while until—

A vision responded to her rambling thoughts with jarring force. One moment she was fidgeting in the booth next to Blayne and the next she was seeing through Nazerel’s eyes. His lips brushed the underside of a full, white breast and Angie tried to sever the connection. The last thing she wanted to watch was Nazerel having sex with some random woman.

“Please. No more.” The female’s voice was hoarse, yet
familiar
.

Angie struggled within the vision, desperate to break the connection. It was Jillian. He had captured Jillian, was seducing her even now. Unless… Was this happening now?

Despite her utter contempt for what was transpiring, Angie forced herself to accept the images. He touched his captive with skill and focus, effortlessly arousing her body though her mind remained inaccessible.

“I can do this all night.” He slipped his hand between her thighs as he gazed into her eyes. “Lower your shields and I’ll let you come.”

Angie didn’t want to see this. She already knew Jillian was a target, obviously Nazerel’s next target. There had to be another reason for the vision. Blayne had assured her that every vision had a purpose. Watching her friend succumb to this monster could not be the reason for this one.

She pulled back slowly, not wanting to alert him of her presence in his mind. Gradually she saw the bed and the naked bodies entwined upon it. Jillian’s hands were tied to the headboard! Angie couldn’t allow herself to react to the fact. If this was happening now, there was nothing she could do to stop it. And if she were glimpsing
the future, she would do everything in her power to make sure the wretched scene never became real.

Continuing the smooth withdrawal, she viewed the bedroom and tried to see the entire house. But his obsession with Jillian’s body, his determination that she surrender, kept Angie anchored in the scene. He was so absorbed with the challenge that nothing else existed.

So she had to work with what he’d given her already. She looked around the room. Nothing unusual here. It was a bedroom like any other. Perhaps a bit larger. The ceiling was vaulted and there were elegant French doors leading out onto a balcony or deck.

She focused on the French doors. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of the backyard or the surrounding neighborhood. The view beyond the house was blurry, but Angie’s pulse leapt just the same. Not only could she see the Strip
in the distance, the position of the casinos in relationship to the house would give them a way to narrow in on the location. She studied the blurry image, absorbing as much detail as she could. Then she prayed that this was a future event and the vision finally released.

Returning to her body much more gradually than she’d left, Angie woke up in Blayne’s arms. He was sitting on the floor
, cradling her against his chest and they were surrounded by people who looked as worried as he did.

“You promised not to scare me again,” he
reminded with a tentative smile.

“Sorry. It’s Kris’ fault.”

“Did you have a vision?” She nodded and tried to sit up, but his arms wouldn’t release her. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

In other words he wasn’t ready to let her go. She wrapped her arms around his back and kissed his throat, which was as high as she could reach in her semi-reclining position. “I might know where the house is, but I need to know if Jillian is still in her room at the hospital.”

Blayne looked at Lor and Lor made a quick call and then reported, “She’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“Nazerel had her tied to his bed in my vision, so we need to make damn sure we catch him before the scene comes to pass.”

“Tell us what you saw and we’ll get right on it,” Odintar promised.

“I could see the Strip from his bedroom window. The image was blurry, but the perspective was clear.”

Lor knelt beside Blayne, his expression equal parts compassion and anticipation. “May I see the image?”

“Go ahead.” She closed her eyes and braced for the invasion, but he was in and out so quickly she barely felt it. “I need Morgan’s help with this.
” He pushed back to his feet and added, “Someone needs to shadow Jillian.”

“I’m on it,” Odintar
assured and then flashed from the room.

Lor gave Tori a quick kiss and said, “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

Blayne’s arms tightened around Angie then he somehow managed to stand with her still cradled in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kris told her, looking adorably contrite. “I had no idea my suggestion would do that to you.”

She smiled at him and touched his shoulder. “I don’t regret it and neither should you. Anything that gets us closer to Nazerel is all right by me.” Kris looked at Blayne and sighed so Angie looked up as well. Blayne glared at Kris, his expression utterly menacing. “Cut it out!” She punched Blayne in the shoulder as best she could while in his arms. “He didn’t do it on purpose. Stop being such a Neanderthal.”

He leaned down and nipped her neck
then whispered, “I’ll show you Neanderthal as soon as we return to our cabin.”

The soldiers parted as Blayne carried her out of the galley.

“We haven’t had dinner yet,” she objected.

Blayne paused by the
stairs and kissed her gently on the mouth. “I told you we wouldn’t make it through dinner.”

“But what if I’m hungry now?”

“How weak did your vision leave you?” He lowered her legs and let her slide down his body.

She smiled as desire spread through her bloodstream and sensual images filled her mind.
“Not too weak to enjoy what you’re thinking about.”

“Then we’ll eat after.” He kissed her again. “I’ll even bring you dinner in bed.”

 

More
Shadow Assassin
Adventures

Coming in 2014

Odintar and Jillian’s story

 

Featuring Elias and Helina Keire

(
Helina is introduced in
Fallen Star
)

 

And the story everyone has been asking for

Nazerel and…
I’m not ready to tell you, yet. But the cover is a clue.

 

 

 

Rage and Redemption

Read on for a taste of

Cyndi Friberg’s
Rebel Angel
series

 

When the couple gets together, wow. I am looking forward to seeing what Cyndi Friberg comes up with for her next story; she is definitely an author to watch.

-- Angel, Romance Junkies 5 stars!

 

Rebel Angels, Book One
:
Proud and rebellious, Gideon is banished from the Light. His own words define his punishment, transforming bloodlust into literal hunger. Living by his sword, he wanders the land of mortals, embittered and alone.

 

Naomi works in secret, illuminating manuscripts for the Knights of St. John. Gideon is drawn to her beauty and fascinated by her innocence. She stirs the shattered remnants of his nobility, intensifying the conflict already raging within him.

 

Gideon is unlike anyone Naomi has ever encountered before. His passionate kisses and intoxicating caresses leave her restless and wanting. Still, she senses the bleak loneliness he tries so hard to deny. Responding to his seduction with tenderness, she is determined to help him rediscover the beauty in life.

 

The battle lines are drawn. Gideon must seek redemption or Fall. Naomi must lead her
Rebel Angel
back into the light before the forces of darkness destroy them both.

 

From Cyndi:
The concept of angels and demons has always fascinated me. I couldn't help wondering how the angels felt when they were ordered to throw one third of their ranks out of Heaven. Obviously they obeyed, but how did it make them
feel
? I've been a fan of Historical romance for years, so I chose the Crusades as a backdrop for this exploration. I originally set out to capture the emotional struggles of an angel left behind by the rebellion. But, as usual, my muse decided to twist my concept. I don't want to say too much, but suddenly my angel had fangs and I was powerless to stop the influx of paranormal elements. I hope you'll find the resulting love story as entertaining as I did. I learned long ago not to argue with my muse. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Krak
des Chevaliers

County of Tripoli, Palestine

March 1148

 

Fidgeting upon the wooden stool, Naomi pushed a lock of long hair behind her ear and concentrated on the manuscript page spread before her. Dust motes danced playfully in the rapidly fading sunlight but she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. The familiar scent of ink and sandalwood soothed her, helping her focus. She shifted the precious vellum folio to a slightly different angle, catching what was left of the light.

To achieve true illumination, a scribe must release light from within the text, not just decorate the margins. Her design was intricate and interesting, but there was no spark or inspiration. No illumination.

Naomi focused on the entwined figures centered on the page and set her quill aside. Eve’s long hair concealed everything but her slender limbs. Adam, on the other hand, had only a strategically placed fig leaf to protect his modesty.

“Perhaps without the leaf I could find illumination,” Naomi muttered with a mischievous smile.

“I’d be willing to serve as your model.”

Naomi twirled about so suddenly she nearly toppled from the stool. Stifling a startled gasp, she stumbled to her feet, pretending the movement had been graceful.

Raising her gaze to the stranger’s face, Naomi forgot her clever rejoinder. She forgot to breathe. She forgot everything except the man standing near the doorway.

His features were harsh and angular yet so incredibly beautiful he didn’t seem real. Bright with amusement and speculation, his strange golden eyes captured her gaze completely.

“Shall I disrobe?”

The smoky quality of his voice made Naomi tingle. Sleek black hair had been pulled straight back from his face and secured at the nape of his neck. Naomi wanted to trace the slash of his black eyebrows and smooth the faint creases that framed his extraordinary eyes. She wanted to test the resilience of his mouth with her fingertips and…

What was wrong with her?

Shaking away the strange stupor, Naomi forced herself to speak. “I’m not the scribe, my lord, so I require no model.”

He walked toward her, his stride long and lazy. “If you aren’t the scribe, what were you doing when I arrived?”

Naomi quickly hid her ink-stained hand behind her back. Her sandals scraped against the floorboards as she moved away from the high, angled table. “I was admiring Brother Gabriel’s work. He is the finest illuminator in the entire order.”

After so many years, the deception shouldn’t rankle, but it did. She hated the prejudice that required she deny her accomplishments.

He glanced at the manuscript page then back at her. Who was this man? His garments told her only that he was wealthy. The plush, black velvet
surcoat had been elaborately embroidered in gold, and the gray tunic beneath was no less costly. He wore no sword, but Naomi sensed the menace that hovered around men of war.

“What
business have you here?” she asked. “Were you looking for Brother Gabriel?”

Before she realized his intention, he reached behind her and grabbed her wrist. His touch sent shivers up her arm and Naomi sucked in a ragged breath. Drawing her arm back in front of her, he turned her hand this way and that, inspecting the calluses and stains.

“You’re not a scribe?” he challenged softly.

“The order has been charged with illuminating the Holy Scripts, sir.” She avoided his gaze as she continued her explanation. “Some learned men believe women do not possess souls. Almighty God would never bestow talent and inspiration on so lowly a creature. Only a man can be trusted to script the Word of God.”

The stranger laughed and Naomi felt her insides clench. He had been beautiful when he scowled. His appeal now made her restless and…hot.

His thumb brushed over her wrist and his gaze settled on her mouth. “Gabriel must have his hands full with you about. Where is he?”

Naomi tried to draw her hand from his grasp but he wouldn’t allow it. The soft stroke of his thumb made her pulse jump and her skin flush. “What do you want with Brother Gabriel?”

“What I want at the moment has nothing to do with Gabriel.”

Her hand brushed against coarse stone. She’d backed herself against the wall! Her heart fluttered and she found it hard to swallow. “If you have business with—”

“What’s your name?” he interrupted.

His shimmering gaze moved slowly over her features. Naomi felt the caress like a physical touch. Coolness from the stones at her back seeped through her clothing in sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body. She shivered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“I do not share my favors, sir. There are women in the village who are willing to…accommodate your needs.”

“What would you know of my needs?”

He sounded odd, as if she had struck some dark, painful chord within him. Naomi’s chest tightened and her heart pounded.
“Nothing, my lord. I meant only to make clear that I am not a harlot.”

He released her hand and moved in closer. Pressing his palms against the wall, he caged her with his body. “I would have your name, damsel.”

Fear welled within Naomi but she tried not to panic. The scriptorium was high in a stone tower, secluded and isolated. “Please, my lord. I didn’t mean to anger you.” She spoke in a calm, even tone.

“I am not angry.”

But he looked angry. His golden eyes glittered with determination and the set of his jaw seemed dangerous. He was tall and broad, strong and menacing.

“Who are you?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes searching.

“No one of consequence.” She pushed against his chest, shocked by the inflexibility of his flesh. “Let me go.”

He smiled slowly, provocatively. “I think not on both accounts.”

 

Gideon stared down into the woman’s bright blue eyes and felt his fangs lengthen. He quickly closed his mouth, unwilling to reveal his true nature. He was hungry, but it had been many weeks since he’d sought the comfort of a woman’s embrace. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to penetrate her throat with his fangs or feel her feminine core tighten around his shaft.

Perhaps he could have both.

He wrapped his arms around her slender form, pressing her against his chest. She instinctively arched and shoved. This only aligned their lower bodies more intimately. Her eyes widened and the scent of fear exploded in his nose.

“Be still,” he commanded with his dark voice and the flash of his eyes.

She went limp in his arms. Her eyes drifting shut and Gideon chuckled. He hadn’t meant the compulsion to be quite so powerful. Her head lolled back into the bend of his elbow, exposing her neck and ending his mental debate. He would feed first and then draw her back to awareness as he slowly seduced her senses.

Burying his face in her throat, he inhaled her scent. She smelled fresh and feminine with faint traces of fear and—arousal? Gideon parted his lips and stroked his tongue along her jugular, feeling the rhythmic pounding, the power and life. Intoxicated by her scent, it took him a moment to recognize the subtle sweetness of her taste.

Innocence.

With careful restraint, he pricked her skin with his fangs and then quickly withdrew. He savored the rich complexity of her blood. His heart hammered as her nature was revealed. She was pure of heart. Selfless, devoted and true.

Dark hunger slashed through Gideon and he groaned. The age-old battle within his spirit raged out of control, driving the breath from his body and the strength from his legs. He sank to his knees, maintaining his hold on the woman.

The shriveled remnants of his goodness surged to life, reaching for her, crying out to her. But the evil in him was just as strong. He wanted her as he had never wanted anything or anyone. He threw back his head and roared. Anguish and fury saturated the sound. He longed to drown in her innocence, to gorge on her goodness until…until she was corrupted or dead?

Unsteady and shaken, he sat down on the wood-planked floor and pulled her into his lap, cradling her in his arms like a child. His hand trembled as he brushed the hair back from her face. She looked no different than other humans. Still, something about her held him back. His dark nature demanded that he use her to sate this raw, burning hunger, but he couldn’t seem to move.

She shifted within his arms and slowly opened her eyes.

Fear erupted again. He could smell its acrid stench, hear its relentless pounding, taste its bitterness—but it had never been repulsive before.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I frightened you. You fainted.”

“I have never fainted.” She sounded affronted as she sat up in his lap. She squirmed a bit and then went very still, her hand splayed in the center of his chest.

Her long chestnut hair was tousled, a stray wisp curled against her cheek. She stared up at him with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and Gideon knew he would not ravish her. Seduction, on the other hand, was still a very real possibility.

“Did you pretend to faint so I’d take you in my arms?”

Her eyes lit with indignation and Gideon smiled, his hunger controlled again, at least for the present.

“Why would I need such a ploy?”

“Because you’re not yet ready to admit you want me, even to yourself.”

She laughed and the hand resting against his chest began to push. “Are you always so arrogant?”

He couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Her rounded bottom was doing cruel things to him, yet he ached with the need to touch her. Taste her. “Kiss me and I’ll release you.”
If you still want to be released once my mouth is moving upon yours.

Naomi felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden. “I shall scream and you’ll be forced to let me go.”

“Forced by whom? This chamber is far from the domestic range. We are quite alone.”

She didn’t move, could scarcely breathe.

Brushing his warm fingers against her cheek, he tucked a curl behind her ear. “Let me taste your mouth. I only want a taste.”

 

She rubbed her palm against his chest, fascinated by the unyielding shape beneath the soft material. Why was she still sitting here? He wasn’t really restraining her.

This man was the personification of her darkest fantasies, the elusive, mysterious something that other people whispered about. He was potent, powerful and yet incomprehensible.

His mouth covered hers, driving all rational thought from her mind. She felt the heated slide of his lips and trembled. She felt the sensual glide of his tongue and groaned. His mouth moved over and against hers, his tongue touched and tasted.

She found his sleek hair and sank her fingers into the cool strands. His fingers were in her hair too. She felt his hand close into a fist, carefully controlling her. He tilted her head and his mouth fit more tightly over hers, guiding her lips farther apart.

She accepted the bold thrust of his tongue with a little gasp. Overwhelmed and intoxicated, she felt completely out of control. He was taking too much, moving too fast. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only yield to his passion.

Fear found its way through the haze as he deepened the kiss. He was aggressive now, demanding, his mouth plundering the depths of hers. Naomi shoved against his chest and tore her mouth away.

“More, Naomi, give me more,” he growled.

His arms tightened, dragging her flush against his chest. Naomi turned her face away as his words registered. “You called me Naomi.”

“Is there some other name you’d prefer?”

His mouth moved to the underside of her jaw and slide along her throat. Shoving hard against his chest, she tried to think, to understand what he was doing to her. He had demanded her name, but she hadn’t told him.

Scrambling off his lap, she scurried to the other side of the chamber. “How do you know my name?”

For a moment he sat there staring at her over his shoulder. Then in one fluid motion, he gained his feet and stalked toward her. “You told me your name.”

She felt compelled to look at him, to stare into his eyes, but she quickly averted her gaze. “Nay, sir, I did not.”

He stood directly across the table from her. It was no real protection. He could easily shove it aside. She sneaked a glance at his face. He was looking at the manuscript page, his expression inscrutable.

“Where will I find Gabriel?”

His voice softly demanded the information and Naomi felt the urge to blurt out his location. “What do you want with Brother Gabriel?”

“Where will I find him?”

He looked up and their gazes locked before she dragged hers away. Naomi felt hot and then cold. “I’ve no idea. You need to inquire with the castellan. His name is Brother Aaron.”

Suddenly he was beside her, his palms framing her face, and Naomi had no choice but to meet his penetrating stare. “What is Gabriel to you?”

She struggled against the need to tell him every detail of her relationship with Brother Gabriel. Keeping her mouth firmly closed, Naomi fought the bizarre compulsion. Never would she do anything that would endanger her mentor and closest friend, but the need to speak became overwhelming.

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