Master of Fire Read online

  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

  TWENTY-ONE

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for 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.”

  —Romantic Times (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!”

  —USA Today bestselling author Emma Holly

  “[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

  “Amusing . . . Exciting . . . Anyone who enjoys strong women kicking butt . . . will enjoy this.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “A fantastic story of a love that never died.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Exhilarating . . . Delightful.”

  —The Best Reviews

  MASTER OF THE NIGHT

  “Her novels are spicy, extremely sexy, and truly fabulous . . . Complex and intriguing . . . Loads of possibilities for future sensual adventures.”

  —Romantic Times

  “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

  Further praise for the novels of Angela Knight

  “Nicely written, quickly paced, and definitely on the erotic side.”

  —Library Journal

  “The sex scenes were explosive and should have come with a warning for the reader to have a fire extinguisher handy during reading.”

  —Euro-Reviews

  “Delicious . . . Wonderfully crafted . . . Angela Knight brings such life to her characters and to the world she’s created for them that readers can’t help but believe in magic.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “If you like alpha heroes, wild rides, and pages that sizzle in your hand, you’re going to love [Angela Knight]!”

  —New York Times bestselling author J. R. Ward

  “From the first page Ms. Knight has me hook, line, and sinker . . . Titillating and action-packed.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Exceptionally written, refreshing.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  “Will have readers . . . aroused.”

  —A Romance Review

  “Fresh . . . Hot sex. You are sure to enjoy.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Erotic . . . The love scenes are steamy and sensuous—some of the best I’ve read.”

  —SFRA Review

  “Ms. Knight has combined the erotic with the romantic and made a classic tale.”

  —Just Erotic Romance Reviews (Gold Star Rating)

  “[A hero] to make any woman hot with desire.”

  —In the Library Reviews

  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

  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)

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  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 FIRE

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / March 2010

  Copyright © 2010 by Angela Knight.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form

  without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in

  violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-18591-9

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  ACKNOWLEDGM
ENTS

  I would like to dedicate this book to the men and women of the Spartanburg County Sheriff’s Office. In particular, I want to thank Lieutenant Ashley Harris, forensic chemist, arson investigator, bomb tech, and all-around cool human being. He let me follow him around for a week, watching him do his job, including the bomb squad parts. Ashley is positively brilliant, and we are lucky he only uses his powers for good, since he’s the one who helped me come up with the evil stuff the bomber does in this book. He did design sketches, patiently answered all my questions, and told me how my hero could get out of the messes I put him in. Much of Logan’s technical dialogue originally came out of Ashley’s mouth.

  By the way, he actually owns the toy monkey described in Chapter Eight.

  I also want to mention my cop buddies in the Lunch Bunch, especially my friend Robert Rosenberg, evidence tech and skin diver. I want to thank my personal pit crew, who helped me cope with some serious back issues that nagged me while I was trying to write this book. Personal trainer Bethany Morton-Rhye, masseuse Christine Cox, and acupuncture specialist Shawn Jacobs kept my pain to manageable levels.

  More thanks are owed to my beta readers, Diane Whiteside, Kate Douglas, Linda Kusiolek, Margaret Riley, and my wonderful Bookdragon, Virginia Ettel. Diane and Virginia also moderate my Yahoo Group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/angelaknight/. And they do a wonderful job of herding cats, too.

  Most of all, I want to thank the two people who inspire all my heroes and heroines. My sister, Angela Patterson, is one of the strongest, kindest people I have ever met. Whenever I wonder what a heroine would do, I just think of Angela.

  Then there’s my husband of twenty-five years, Mike Woodcock. Mike’s endless patience and romantic heart form the sweet and sexy core of every hero I write. Love you, babe.

  For more about my work, check out my web page at .wwwangelasknights.com, where you will fi nd excerpts and blurbs for upcoming books, along with desktop wallpaper, book videos, and other goodies.

  ONE

  The truck bounced down the snaking gravel driveway that led to the dead man’s house. It was a huge armored box of a vehicle, gleaming black, with “Greendale County Sheriff’s Office Bomb Disposal Team” painted on the side in white lettering.

  Terrence John Anderson watched through his binoculars as the truck rolled up to the old white farmhouse. He lay hidden in a leafy clump of bushes at the edge of the woods, camouflage paint smearing his face, ice gray eyes narrow and watchful amid the writhing patterns of green and black. A sniper rifle lay beside him, but it was just for insurance.

  He had something more dramatic in mind than a bullet.

  The truck rolled to a stop, and a woman climbed out of the passenger side. He focused the binocs on her. Tall, dressed in wide-legged navy pants that swirled around her long legs. A flowing pale blue blouse draped over lush breasts and nipped in around her narrow waist, cinched by a wide navy belt. Her blond hair was pulled into a twist on the back of her head, but the severe hairstyle only emphasized her sensual beauty. She scanned the area, her expression watchful and wary. He wondered how she’d look after the bomb got done with that pretty face. Almost a shame, really.

  On the other hand, there was nothing quite like the feeling he got from watching someone die.

  Lieutenant Logan MacRoy walked around the truck to join the blonde. He was a big man, broad-shouldered in the black knit shirt of the bomb squad, with his military-style uniform pants tucked into combat boots. Terrence felt his muscles coil in anticipation. His sheriff’s department contact had been right. The e-mail from [email protected] had said MacRoy was the bomb squad tech on call today. Sure enough, here he was.

  Terrence did love a reliable informant.

  The file the client had provided said MacRoy was thirty-one years old, six-foot-four, two hundred ten pounds, Caucasian, brown and brown. A lieutenant with the Greendale County Sheriff’s Office, he’d graduated at the top of his class at the South Carolina law enforcement academy. No surprise, considering he also had a master’s degree in chemistry.

  MacRoy had a long list of other certifications as well, including arson investigator and, of course, bomb squad tech. An unusual set of qualifications for a forensic chemist, according to Terrence’s research.

  Actually, it was pretty rare for a Southern sheriff’s office to have a lab at all; those that did kept their chemists busy testing seized cocaine, pot, crack, and methamphetamine. Logan had evidently talked his sheriff into letting him do a lot more, maybe on the strength of his nine years in law enforcement. He’d been one of the first forensic chemists in South Carolina.

  Somewhere along the line, he’d also pissed somebody off. Really, really bad. Terrence John Anderson bad.

  Terrence lifted his cell phone and thumbed 119. Listened to the beep that signaled his booby trap was armed. And smiled in anticipation.

  The blonde’s head snapped up as if she’d somehow heard that tiny beep. She stared into the woods, right at Terrence, eyes narrow. The assassin froze, except for the slight movement of his hand finding the rifle. He could snatch it up and fire before the little bitch got the shout of warning out of her mouth.

  The metal bracelet the client had given him suddenly blazed hot around his wrist, a ferocious burning bite so intense he could almost smell his skin sizzle. He bit back a snarled curse. The blonde’s gaze turned uncertain, and she scanned the woods around him in confusion.

  And then she looked away.

  The pounding of his heart began to slow, and his hand slid away from the rifle. Seems she hadn’t seen him after all.

  He could let the chemist go find his little surprise.

  “Something wrong?” Logan asked in his deep rumble of a voice.

  Giada Shepherd wiped the wary frown off her face and turned toward him. “Thought I saw something moving in the woods.” She shrugged and lied. “Just a squirrel.”

  She wasn’t sure what it had been, but it hadn’t been a squirrel. Overactive bodyguard imagination, maybe. Furry and four-legged, no.

  But for a moment there, she’d felt such a sense of chill menace, she’d been unable to breathe. Then it was just gone. Had to be her imagination, especially since she’d done a scanning spell and found nothing.

  On the other hand, it was daylight, and her magic wasn’t all that reliable when the sun was up. Maybe somebody in those woods was eyeing Logan MacRoy’s handsome head through a sniper scope.

  That thought sent ice creeping down her spine on razor claws. She had to protect Logan. That was the whole point of this charade.

  Gravel crunched with the sound of running feet. Giada wheeled, only to relax as a small boy darted around the bulk of the bomb truck, his eyes wide as an anime character’s under a mop of fine blond hair. She was no expert when it came to judging a child’s age, but she figured he was no more than six or so.

  “Hi!” He slid to a stop to study Logan with breathless excitement. “Are you a real cop?” His blue gaze darted to the weapons belt with its nine-millimeter automatic and handcuffs. “Is that a real gun?”

  “Yep, and yep.” Logan dropped to one black-clad knee and offered the kid a handshake, his smile broad and easy in a way Giada could only envy. She had never been that comfortable with children. Probably because I never was one.

  Her shoulder blades started itching again. She threw another look at the woods. It was almost sunset, and the trees swayed in a spring breeze, whispering secrets to the shadows.

  Somebody out there might be getting ready to blow Logan’s head off.

  “Can we get this show on the road?” Giada demanded, interrupting Logan’s earnest discussion of cop stuff with the kid. “It’s been a long day, and I’d like to get back to my hotel.”

  Logan shot her a cool, disapproving look. Her cheeks heated. She really hated sounding like such a bitch, but he didn’t know the situation. And she couldn’t tell him what was going on, or his mother would turn her into a frog.

  Or not. The woman had probably been j
oking. On the other hand, Giada had no desire to spend the rest of her life cooling her butt on a lily pad. Like it or not, she had to keep MacRoy in the dark and feed him nothing but bullshit. Though he’d make an awfully big mushroom . . .

  Her eyes lingered on the breadth of muscular shoulders displayed by that black knit shirt. Defi nitely not a mushroom. More like a truffl e. Chocolate, not fungus. I’d sure like to give him a nice, long lick . . .

  Stop that. Giada gave her wayward libido a mental swat.

  “Josh! Josh, where did you . . .” A plump young woman rounded the truck at a pace just short of a run. She blew out a breath in relief as she spotted the boy. “There you are! Don’t scare me like that.” Hurrying over, she snatched the kid’s hand. He pouted at having his hero worship interrupted.

  Logan rose to his feet and gave the woman his warm, lethal smile. She blinked and looked a bit stunned—a reaction Giada could sympathize with. The lieutenant had a face an Armani model would envy: dramatic cheekbones, slashing brows, and a square, angular jaw. He wore his thick mink brown hair cut ruthlessly short, his long-lashed eyes were richly dark, and his wide mouth was both intensely masculine and nakedly sensual. And every time he turned around, her libido sang arias in praise of his ass.

  “I’m Lieutenant Logan MacRoy of the Greendale County Bomb Squad,” Logan said, offering a big, tanned hand. He nodded at Giada, who extended her own paler palm. “Dr. Giada Shepherd. She’s the new civilian forensic chemist for Tayanita County. I’m showing her the ropes this month.”