Alpha Hunter Read online

  Alpha Hunter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Copyright © 2014 Cyndi Friberg

  Cover art by Dar Albert

  Editor: Mary Moran

  Electronic Book Publication, January 2014

  Trade Paperback Publication, January 2014

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Cyndi Friberg.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Praise for Beyond Ontariese

  Taken by Storm

  “Taken by Storm had it all–tense action, suspense, erotic sex, humor and a wildly imaginative plot. ” The Romance Studio

  “Unplug the phone and put the kids to bed; once you start reading Taken by Storm you won’t want any interruptions!” Fallen Angel Reviews

  “For a story that will delight, entertain, and keep you on the edge of your seat, I highly recommend Taken by Storm and award it RRT's Perfect 10.” Romance Reviews Today

  Operation Hydra

  “I highly recommend Operation Hydra…it’s one of the best science fiction romances I’ve ever read.” Perfect 10! Romance Reviews Today

  “Outstanding! This segment only whetted my appetite for more. The heat between Kyrsta and Trey could cause a nuclear meltdown” Simply Romance Reviews

  City of Tears

  “WOW! City of Tears by Cyndi Friberg is one amazing blend of science fiction at its best and romance at its hottest…” eCata Reviews

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  More Shadow Assassin Adventures

  Rage and Redemption

  Chapter One

  Prologue

  “How long did this one survive?” Sevrin Keire swiped the control panel inset in her desktop, deactivating the holodisplay. There was no reason to watch the entire recording. This was the third mutation in as many days. She was well acquainted with the writhing and moaning, the twisted features and shrieks of pain. Each time one of the human females rejected the genetic transfer, Sevrin’s dreams slipped a little further away. Still, she would not give up. She’d come too far and invested too much to abandon her ultimate goal. Possessing Mystic abilities had become her purpose in life, her obsession.

  Dr. Lynell Porffer shifted her weight from one foot to the other as a flicker of regret escaped from behind her emotionless mask. “Forty-three hours, which is eleven hours longer than her predecessor.”

  A harsh, humorless laugh escaped Sevrin. “Am I supposed to be encouraged by the progress? We’ve made four significant adjustments to the transfer protocol and the women are still dying in agony.”

  Porffer’s chin came up and her features froze. “I’m aware of the failures, mistress. I witnessed each one.”

  “Relax.” She motioned for Porffer to sit, but the doctor ignored the gesture, choosing instead to remain standing behind the two chairs arranged in front of Sevrin’s desk. Did the barrier make her feel safe, protected from Sevrin’s disapproval? Failure was dealt with swiftly and harshly. Porffer had reason to be afraid. “I don’t blame you for the mutations. The fault is as much mine as it is yours.” Sevrin sighed, frustrated by the situation more than her companion’s obstinacy. Sevrin had originally chosen Porffer for this project because of her unflappable demeanor. After months working shoulder to shoulder with the woman, Sevrin understood that the good doctor used her calm façade to hide insecurity. “We’re both in over our heads and I think it’s time we admitted it.”

  “Anyone would be in over their heads. What we’re attempting has never been done before.”

  It was a valid point, but it was also an excuse and Sevrin hated excuses. “You’ve never resequenced DNA before? That’s not what your record indicated.”

  “That’s not what I meant, mistress.” Porffer glanced into Sevrin’s eyes then quickly lowered her gaze. “Of course I’ve resequenced DNA. Genetic modification is common on Rodymia. But this is not Rodymia and the changes we’re trying to make are…unusual.”

  They were attempting to transfer Mystic abilities into those born without them or, in some cases, those with no control over dormant abilities. Either way, the outcome would be unprecedented. Still, the concept was fully realized. It really wasn’t any more complicated than ridding a person of a hereditary illness or the predisposition for a particular disease. Genetic code was genetic code. As long as they had correctly identified the chromosome controlling each ability, they should be able to manipulate the information at will. So why were proven techniques failing at every turn?

  Muffled voices and the muted thud of boots on the entry tiles drew Sevrin’s attention toward the front of the house. As well as her private residence, this large house in the suburbs of Las Vegas was operation headquarters for her project. Still, it was well past midnight, far too late for visitors. The voices grew louder and a sharp cry separated itself from the muddle.

  Without explaining herself to Porffer, Sevrin pushed back from the desk and rose. She hurried across the office and threw open the door. “What’s going on out there?”

  “Nazerel and Zacharous to see you, mistress.” Marat’s deep voice boomed down the hallway though he remained out of sight. “And they’re not alone.”

  If the situation weren’t safe, her head of security would have warned her to stay back. She strode down the corridor, curious yet annoyed. Nazerel and Zacharous were alpha hunters, each responsible for his own team of Shadow Assassins. Why were they together and why barge in at such an inappropriate hour?

  Her steps faltered as she reached the foyer. Marat stood on the far side of the entryway, a pulse pistol in hand yet not aimed at the intruders. Nazerel and Zacharous had one of the Team North hunters on his knees between them. She didn’t remember the captive’s name, but he struggled against some invisible force obviously being generated by the two alphas. The man’s face was bruised and swollen. He’d not given in without a fight.

  “What’s this about?” She looked at Nazerel. He was the strongest of the four alphas, leader of Team South. These men were what had brought her to Earth. Their power and savagery fascinated and aroused her, yet their abilities made them extremely volatile, unpredictable and hard to control.

  “Lor and his Mystic Militia raided Team North’s house.” Nazerel kept his gaze focused on his captive. All the Shadow Assassins could teleport, though their ranges varied greatly. Restraining one couldn’t be easy. “They captured everyone but this fool.”

  She barely suppressed a gasp. That meant— “They got Allenton?”

  Nazerel smirked, but still didn’t shift his focus. “Sorry, princess. Your pet is back on Ontariese having his brain strip-mined.”

  Teeth clenched and hands fisted, Sevrin slowly circled the kneeling man. His hands were bound behind his back and one eye was nearly swollen shut. “How did Lor find your house?”

  “I don’t know, mistress.” The fool dared to look at her.

  Desperately needing an outlet for her anger, she slammed her fist against the side of his face. Pain exploded in her hand and shot up her arm. The impulse had probably hurt her more than it hurt him. Still, she welcomed the release. Allenton had proved more entertaining than she’d first imagined. She wasn’t finished playing with him yet. Blood trailed from the hunter’s
nose and rebellion flashed in his eyes. She raised her fist again and he wisely lowered his gaze. He might be a little slow, but even dogs could be taught obedience.

  “If your team was under attack, why did you run?” Nazerel demanded. He stood on one side of the kneeling man and Zacharous on the other. They were obviously infuriated by the man’s cowardice.

  “I thought it was more important to warn you.” The fool bowed his head, sounding hoarse and despondent. Rebellion hadn’t worked, so now he was going to try to seem pathetic? Did he really expect pity from any of them?

  “Warn us of what?” Sevrin stopped in front of the last member of Team North as she tried to think of a reason not to kill him. “Can you tell us anything we don’t know already? If they have Allenton, we are royally screwed.”

  “I’ll make it up to you, mistress. I promise I will not fail you again.”

  Sevrin glanced at Dr. Porffer. Not only had she followed Sevrin into the foyer, the doctor held a syringe in one hand, obviously ready for action. Pleased by Porffer’s preparedness, Sevrin motioned her forward. The alpha hunters increased the intensity of their containment field, immobilizing their captive. Porffer injected the coward then quickly stepped back. It took massive doses of powerful sedatives, but Shadow Assassins could be chemically incapacitated. The man struggled against the drug’s creeping effect and the hold of the alpha hunters, but the futile battle only lasted a few moments. He collapsed on the hard tile floor silent and still.

  “Take him to the warehouse and keep him sedated. If he rouses, even for a moment, he’ll escape.”

  “I understand,” the doctor assured as Marat scooped the unconscious man up in his arms. He’d have to send someone with her to the warehouse. She couldn’t lift the hunter on her own and Marat would never leave Sevrin. His life had been pledged to her protection at the moment of her birth.

  After the two had departed, Sevrin turned to the alpha hunters, unable to completely conceal her frustration. “This is a disaster.”

  “Yeah, we get that,” Nazerel muttered. “Everything Allenton knew will be stripped from his mind. Everywhere he went must be abandoned and every procedure he utilized changed.”

  “How did you realize North was under attack?”

  “The coward cried out telepathically,” Nazerel told her. “We flashed over, expecting a fight, but all we saw was a bunch of humans pawing through the house.”

  “And that sniveling coward hiding in the bushes,” Zacharous added with a sneer.

  “Did you run off the humans?”

  Nazerel shook his head. “We didn’t see the point in engaging them. Team North is a total loss and there is nothing in the house they can’t learn from Allenton.”

  “This is your fault.” Sevrin poked the middle of Nazerel’s chest with her index finger. “You convinced me to trust him.”

  Nazerel grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away from his chest. “I didn’t convince you to fuck him. Allenton got you wet and you started sharing secrets he had no reason to know. If you hadn’t—”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Zacharous snapped. “The Mystic Militia will act immediately on whatever they learn. We have to be gone by the time Lor returns from Ontariese.”

  Sevrin took a deep breath and dragged her hostile gaze away from Nazerel. No one else dared such disrespect; no one else refused her. She’d taken Allenton to her bed largely because Nazerel had snubbed her. She was Rodymian royalty and still Nazerel refused to bow to her will. He was a lowly—

  She cut herself off and forced away the exasperating subject. When the time was right, she’d deal with Nazerel. “Did Allenton know the locations of all four team houses?”

  After a contemplative pause, Zacharous shook his head. “I’ve kept my men close and warned them away from Team North. Allenton was always an opportunistic prick. I didn’t see any reason why he’d change.”

  “Then Team South can move in with Team West temporarily and I’ll move back into the warehouse.” She shuddered at the thought. She’d spent six months in that musty ruin while she meticulously constructed a web of false identities and holding companies, allowing her to participate in human commerce without drawing attention to herself or the Shadow Assassins.

  Nazerel didn’t look happy about the directive, but he didn’t argue. “Team East has been basically off the grid since they left Las Vegas. I’ll verify with Darrian, but I think that location is secure.”

  Relocating this house was going to be a major undertaking, especially being that they would need to destroy anything they didn’t have time to move. And she would have to send all the way to Rodymia for anything they needed to replace. That could take weeks, weeks of progress she couldn’t afford to lose.

  “How did this happen?” she cried, overwhelmed by the scope of the setback. “All of the team houses are shielded. How did Lor find them?”

  Both alphas shook their heads, but Nazerel answered, “They obviously intercepted something that gave North away. We’ll have to be more careful. Keep all forms of communication to a minimum.” He paused and then added, “There is one bright spot in this catastrophe.”

  “It better be glaringly bright.”

  “Angie contacted Tori. We’ve been monitoring all of Tori’s calls, so I finally know where Angie is.”

  Sevrin scowled at him. “That’s not even a flicker of light. When are you going to give up your obsession with that human? She’s not worth the trouble she’s already caused. Why go asking for more?”

  Nazerel arched his brows and tilted his head to an insolent angle. “Tori and Lor are bonded. He obviously disagrees.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” She studied his rugged features, searching for any hint of deception.

  “I’ve always found it beneficial to know more about my enemies than my enemies know about me.” One corner of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t quite a smile.

  “Lor’s a Master Level mage, first son of one of the two royal houses. He would never bond with a female unless she was extraordinary.”

  “My point exactly. And Mystic abilities run in families.” The other side of his mouth rose as well and still there was no warmth in the expression. It was more like a feral wolf baring his teeth at a potential threat.

  Mystic abilities seldom developed in half-blood Ontarians. Tori and Angie’s father must have been remarkable. Nazerel was right. Angie was a prize worth pursuing. “Do you have an exact location?”

  “Yes, but the timing could be tricky. Tori has convinced Angie that I’m evil incarnate. There’s no way Angie will willingly leave a police station with me.”

  “What is Angie doing in a police station?” Sevrin halted his explanation with an upraised hand. “Never mind. I don’t care. Figure out the timing and bring her back with you. I’m honestly hoping you’ll be able to concentrate on something else once you’ve screwed her a time or two.”

  “So am I,” he countered.

  “Then why are you still here?”

  The smile finally reached Nazerel’s eyes. Sevrin blinked and he was gone.

  Chapter One

  A large, warm hand gently shook Angie’s shoulder, jarring her from sleep. She gasped and twisted away. The touch hadn’t been hurtful, but she was still on edge from the traumatic events of the past few days. Her life had always been chaotic. Still, her spontaneous decision to leave Las Vegas had driven the turbulence to new heights.

  “Wake up, sunshine. Château de PD is closing. You need to park it somewhere else.”

  The police officer who’d helped her the night before stood over her now. She couldn’t remember his exact name, Jackson or Jonson, something like that. He wore a suit rather than a uniform, so he was likely a detective. His attitude had seemed impatient while his actions revealed a kind heart. “Is my sister here?”

  “Not yet, but my shift ended a couple of hours ago. I’m headed home.”

  She swung her legs to the floor and sat up. The break room was tiny, the couch thread
bare and lumpy, but at least she’d been safe. After her deadbeat boyfriend slinked away in the middle of the night and ditched her with the hotel bill, she was damn lucky not to be in a jail cell. “We told Tori to pick me up here. If I move—”

  “There’s a small reception area by the front door. You need to go wait for her there. This is a police station not a hotel. Letting you sleep here last night could get me in a lot of trouble.”

  “All right.” She bundled up the blanket he’d given her the night before. “Thanks for this. I was really in a pickle.”

  He smiled as he took the blanket from her. “Why do I get the feeling, you’re in ‘pickles’ a lot?”

  “I am, but it’s never my fault.” She chuckled, admitting the irony in her words. She attracted trouble like metal to a magnet. Often her actions resulted in the drama, yet other times she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the wrong person.

  “I’ve heard that excuse a time or two.”

  He led her to the ‘reception area’ which was an ancient row of connected seats adjacent to the front desk. He told the woman behind the Plexiglas shield that Angie had permission to stay there until her sister picked her up. The woman glanced at Angie, nodded and then went right back to work.

  The detective started to leave then paused and dug out his wallet. “You’re probably starving. There are vending machines just off the elevator on the second floor or you can wait until the café opens at 11:00. It’s up on the corner.” He handed her a ten then slipped his wallet back into his pocket. “Are you sure your sister will actually come get you? She wasn’t just saying that to shut you up?”

  “Of course she’ll come. She’s my sister.”

  Angie was shocked by the question until she looked into his eyes. Shadows and suspicion clouded his gaze. “That doesn’t always mean what it should.” It must be horrible to deal with the dredges of society day in and day out. Well, night in and night out in his case, but the result was still the same. He was seriously jaded.