Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
New York Times Bestselling Author
Now Available
Berkley Sensation Titles by Angela Knight
Praise for the Mageverse novels
MASTER OF SMOKE
“Knight’s clever and comedic seventh Mageverse paranormal . . . follows a passionate romance between an unwilling female werewolf and an amnesiac Sidhe warrior containing the spirit of a great cat, set against a complex series background incorporating vampires, witches, alien spirits, and the legend of King Arthur . . . Eva and David’s fight for survival is leavened by plenty of snappy humor as well as Eva’s hilarious ongoing dialogue with her horny werewolf subconscious. The result is a successful mix of magic, romance, humor, and mind-blowing sex.”
—Publishers Weekly
MASTER OF FIRE
“A fantastic book . . . The story was fresh and new and exciting . . . Sure to keep the reader on the edge of her seat. Ms. Knight has outdone herself . . . [She] has created some of the hottest sex scenes known to man. The sexual chemistry between Logan and Giada is out of this world . . . This fast-paced read is a great addition and yet it brings something different to the Mageverse series. Not to mention, the ending is sure to leave you craving the next book.”
—The Romance Studio
“A great addition to the Mageverse series . . . Most enjoyable.”
—Book Binge
“A uniquely inventive spin on the Merlin/King Arthur theme.”
—Manic Readers
MASTER OF DRAGONS
“Many thanks to Angela Knight for keeping this series sexy and unique.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
MASTER OF SWORDS
“Fabulous . . . A terrific romantic fantasy that spins the Arthurian legend into a different, unique direction.”
—Midwest Book Review
MASTER OF WOLVES
“Grandmaster of the paranormal romantic suspense.”
—Midwest Book Review
MASTER OF THE MOON
“The author has certainly gotten inventive with her Mageverse series, and there’s no denying it is something different among the current glut of paranormal books.”
—RT Book Reviews
MASTER OF THE NIGHT
“A terrific paranormal romantic suspense thriller that never slows down until the final confrontation between good and evil. The action-packed story line moves at a fast clip.”
—Midwest Book Review
WARRIOR
“A wonderful science fiction romantic suspense.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The character chemistry is gorgeous; the sex is searing hot; the world fascinating and a joy to explore. All in all, a great book!”
—Errant Dreams Reviews
JANE’S WARLORD
“What an awesome, scintillating, and sexy book! Jane’s Warlord is intriguing, extremely sensuous, and just plain adventurous. A star is born.”
—RT Book Reviews (Top Pick)
“Chills, thrills, and a super hero and heroine will have readers racing through this sexy tale. Take note, time-travel fans, the future belongs to Knight!”
—Emma Holly, USA Today bestselling author
“[Angela Knight’s] world is believable and her plotting fast paced. Knight’s fictional world seems to have a promising future.”
—Booklist
“Solid writing . . . sexy love scenes, and likable characters. I look forward to [Knight’s] next book.”
—All About Romance
“Exhilarating . . . Delightful.”
—The Best Reviews
Further praise for the novels of Angela Knight
“Nicely written, quickly paced, and definitely on the erotic side.”
—Library Journal
“If you like alpha heroes, wild rides, and pages that sizzle in your hand, you’re going to love [Angela Knight]!”
—J. R. Ward, #1 New York Times bestselling author
Berkley Sensation Titles by Angela Knight
Mageverse Series
MASTER OF THE NIGHT
MASTER OF THE MOON
MASTER OF WOLVES
MASTER OF SWORDS
MASTER OF DRAGONS
MASTER OF FIRE
MASTER OF SMOKE
MASTER OF SHADOWS
The Time Hunters Series
JANE’S WARLORD
WARRIOR
GUARDIAN
CAPTIVE DREAMS
(with Diane Whiteside)
MERCENARIES
Anthologies
HOT BLOODED
(with Christine Feehan, Maggie Shayne, and Emma Holly)
BITE
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, MaryJanice Davidson, and Vickie Taylor)
KICK ASS
(with Maggie Shayne, MaryJanice Davidson, and Jacey Ford)
OVER THE MOON
(with MaryJanice Davidson, Virginia Kantra, and Sunny)
BEYOND THE DARK
(with Emma Holly, Lora Leigh, and Diane Whiteside)
SHIFTER
(with Lora Leigh, Alyssa Day, and Virginia Kantra)
HOT FOR THE HOLIDAYS
(with Lora Leigh, Anya Bast, and Allyson James)
BURNING UP
(with Nalini Singh, Virginia Kantra, and Meljean Brook)
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
MASTER OF SHADOWS
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / August 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Angela Knight.
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ISBN : 978-1-101-51735-2
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First I want to thank my wonderful critique partners, Diane Whiteside and Shelby Morgen, who are always a huge asset when it comes to brainstorming plot ideas and checking the logic and flow of my books. I also depend on my incredible beta readers, Virginia Ettel, Markeeta Karland, Stephanie Burke, and Camille Anthony, who helped ensure Master of Shadows is as strong as possible.
As always, I want to thank my agent, Roberta Brown, who holds my hand when needed. My patient, long-suffering editor, Cindy Hwang, is always a source of encouragement and fresh ideas. Copyeditor Rick Willett slew various typos and other mistakes, and I am deeply grateful for his hard work.
Finally, I want to thank my family, especially my husband, Mike Woodcock, who is unfailing in his love for me, his support of my career, and his patience with my many neuroses. My son, Anthony, and our housemate, James Berg, did all those chores I was too busy writing to do. My parents, Gayle and Paul Lee, love, support, and believe in me whether I deserve it or not. My sister, Angela, and her husband, Chuck Patterson, cheer me on when I need it most.
Angela and Chuck also let me play with their gorgeous, clever grandbabies: Naomi Looper and Charlie, William, and Richard Patterson, who are good at teaching an obsessed writer what’s really important. A new grandbaby should be joining the family any day now, to the delight of us all.
The babies’ parents, my niece, Shanna Looper, and my nephew, Joshua Patterson, and his wife, Darah, have always been willing to pitch in and help whenever I need it.
I love you all, and I couldn’t have done it without you.
ONE
“What do you do when they order you to kill?”
The conversation instantly died as every witch and vampire in the room turned to look at Davon Fredericks. Davon did not flinch under the weight of those incredulous stares. He’d been a trauma surgeon before becoming a vampire, and he’d never lacked balls. He just gazed at Belle, his chocolate eyes level and troubled. He was a big man in his jeans and dark blue oxford shirt, broad shoulders stretching the fabric as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. His curling black hair was cut close to his scalp, emphasizing the strong, handsome lines of his face—the full lips, the broad cheekbones, the wide swoop of his nose. His skin was precisely the color of milk chocolate, smooth and clear, with a faint, creamy gleam.
Belle looked up at him from the plates of hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table, a stuffed mushroom halfway to her mouth. “Why do you ask?”
A muscle flexed in his chiseled jaw, and he looked up at the CONGRATULATIONS, DAVON AND CHERISE! banner hanging across the back of the den.
Belle had designed the room especially for the dinner parties she loved to throw, with two big white leather L-shaped sectionals arranged around a low, square coffee table. Davon’s brooding gaze dropped to the table, flicking among the trays and bottles that crowded it. He chose a beer and opened it with a violent twist of one strong hand. “I was just wondering.”
Now all twenty of her guests looked uneasy. Ten vampires and ten witches, Asian, black, Caucasian, Latino, all of them wet behind the ears. Though they were either in their early thirties, like Davon, or late twenties, none of them had been Magekind for longer than a few months. Well, except for Cherise Myers.
And Belle herself, who had been around one hell of a lot longer than that. She sighed and decided she’d better scotch this concern before they all started obsessing about it. “First off, none of you is going to be ordered to kill anybody.” She dropped the mushroom on her plate and used a toothpick to skewer a couple of cheese cubes from a tray. “If someone needs killing, Arthur will send one of the Knights of the Round Table.”
Like Tristan, who had been avoiding her for the past month. She curled a lip and stabbed a cheddar cube through its cold, imaginary heart.
“But . . .” Cherise began, only to fall silent with a glance at Davon, who sat beside her on the sectional. Each promptly looked away from the other, as if they’d synchronized their chins. Cherise looked delicate as a fairy next to big, broad Davon. She had a heart-shaped face, enormous blue eyes, and a tumble of blond hair that made her look like she’d just stepped off the cover of a romance novel. Yet a solid buzz of power radiated from her, and intelligence lit those blue eyes.
So what was with the grimness that thinned the line of her full mouth?
Frowning, Belle eyed the couple. They’d returned from their first mission a few days before, which was the whole point of this get-together. Belle always threw her boys a party to celebrate that first-mission milestone. You’re a real Magus now, kid.
There was more to being a Magekind vampire—a Magus—than having a set of fangs. You had to save the world, too.
Whether the world liked it or not.
But Cherise Myers was no green recruit; she’d been a Maja for several years now. A steady, intelligent young witch, she had just enough power to handle most jobs without getting dangerously cocky about it. Belle had been pleased Davon had been assigned to her.
So why were they acting so twitchy now, when neither was the twitchy sort? “Look, Arthur doesn’t make the decision to kill humans lightly. You’ve got to be a career asshole along the lines of a major terrorist leader to make him decide to take you out.”
Richard Spotted Horse looked up from pouring himself a glass from one of the bottles of donated blood each of the witches had brought. He cocked a dark eyebrow. “But why not just cast a spell to make the bastard give up the terrorist business?”
“Wouldn’t work,” she said, and noticed that Davon was now pointedly avoiding her gaze. She’d have to pull him aside after the party and make him spill whatever was bothering him. Nobody had appointed Belle den mother to the men she’d recruited; she just couldn’t help herself. “Once a murderous attitude becomes deeply engrained, you can’t wipe it out of a subject’s mind no matter how much magic you use.”
“So why not kill ’em all?” Davon picked up a chocolate-covered strawberry, then dropped it back on the tray as if remembering he didn’t eat anymore.
“Because we don’t work that way. Not that we’re not tempted, but . . .”
“Belle, we’ve got a mission.” The familiar male voice rang across the room, cutting her off as a shaft of helpless longing stabbed through her. Which instantly pissed her off. Tristan.
The knight filled the doorway with his height and swordsman’s solid brawn. He was dressed all in black. He would be, she thought. A black knit shirt tucked into black jeans over soft black boots, the darkness broken only by the glint of the silver belt-buckle at his narrow waist. His hair fell around his shoulders in thick, blond strands that gleamed like expensive silk.
Tristan had the face of a Renaissance warrior, long and square-jawed, his cheekbones precise juts, with sculpted hollows and a determined chin. His mouth was wide and far too sensual for her peace of mind. His eyes glittered vividly green under his thick blond brows, demanding and more than a little arrogant. “Sorry to interrupt your party, but I’ve got a nasty situation on my hands.”
Belle gave him a smile sweet enough to rot the fangs right out of his head. The kids, of course, were staring at him in hero-worshipping awe. “Come on in, Tristan.” Since you already let yourself in my house without knocking. “We’re celebrating Davon’s first mission.�
��
“Congratulations.” Tristan didn’t even glance over at him. “Look, Belle, I’ve got a pissed-off werewolf waiting for me. It’s kind of urgent.”
She bared her teeth. They weren’t fangs, but they apparently got the message across; he flinched. “I’ll be happy to open a gate for you to go meet your fuzzy friend, but I’m a little too busy to accompany you just now. I’ll join you once the party’s over.” Damned if he was going to stroll into her house and start ordering her around. Not when he’d been treating her like a Black Plague victim for weeks.
“Belle, if you need to go on a job, we can clean up,” Cherise said earnestly.
“I think we can all be trusted not to get drunk and trash the place.” Richard gave her a lazy grin, shameless flirt that he was.
Tristan glowered at him before turning the glare on her. “Look, I realize I’m interrupting fun and games with your . . . boys, but the Direkind needs us to investigate a murder. And they’re convinced magic was involved.”
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