Therian Prize: 5 (Therian Heat) Read Online Free PDF

be destroyed by fire? Her father was quite comfortable in the flames of hell. She wasn’t as adept at manipulating the element as her father but she certainly couldn’t be consumed by it.
    Satisfied with the progress of her regeneration, she conjured clothes and crossed to the sliding-glass door leading out onto her balcony. The high-rise condo belonged to one of her victims. She didn’t routinely scan their minds as she drained their energy but she’d needed a place to stay. The sole occupant was an investment banker for an international firm. He traveled extensively and had no family and few friends. Every day or so she sent a text message to his office from his cell phone, so it was unlikely anyone would miss him until long after she’d moved on. Still, she had much to do before she relocated.
    Endless days in idle hibernation had given her time to assess her situation. She stood at a crossroads. She could follow her instincts and wreak havoc on Ian Douglas and his furry friends or she could exploit their misconception that she was dead and advance her long-term goals.
    Not only had Ian tried to kill her, he’d succeeded with Nehema, her cherished sister. It didn’t matter that Nehema had gone mad, that Zophiel would likely have ended her life eventually if the merciless raptor hadn’t beaten her to it. Ian had taken the life of someone Zophiel loved and now he would die. The timing of his death, however, was up for debate. She had much to accomplish before she revealed to the Therians that Ian had failed.
    Nehema had been a crusader, a pious lunatic bent on the destruction of Therians. She had founded a paramilitary organization called the Abolitionists. Nehema and her network of soldiers “rescued” Therian females, spiriting them away from their families before their animal-demonic natures could be defined. Most of the females didn’t want to be rescued but Nehema was deaf to their pleas. Zophiel had always found the Abolitionists absurd, but she loved her sister so she neither helped nor hindered Nehema’s pet cause.
    Well, Nehema was dead now, so Zophiel would ensure that the Abolitionists disbanded. They were a distraction she could no longer tolerate.
    The backers, on the other hand, had become progressively more interesting since Zophiel discovered their existence four years ago. The international “program” had been studying and experimenting on Therians for at least thirty years, though specific information had been extremely hard to find.
    The organization was jointly controlled by three leaders—James Milliner, a semi-retired American general; Roberto, an Italian financier; and Tias, a Japanese scientist with ties to several Asian crime families.
    Zophiel had no interest in working with the backers. She wanted the backers to work for her. Despite the fact that her mother had been Therian, Zophiel felt nothing but hatred and mistrust for the entire nation. Her bitterness was deep-seated and justified. And with the distraction of her volatile sister behind her, it was time to rebuild her strength and set her plans in motion.
    She slid open the door and stepped out onto the balcony. Denver spread out before her but few lights still burned. It must be later than she’d realized. Unlike New York, Denver slept for a few hours every night. The downtown towers to her left created interesting shadows against the darkness. Off to her right she could barely make out the distinct shapes of Elitch Gardens. She loved the colorful lights of the amusement park but right now nothing moved and the lights had been turned off.
    All the teenagers had gone home, but what about the bar hoppers? LoDo’s club scene provided her with a ready supply of energy whenever she grew tired of the drug-tainted vagrants milling about on Park Avenue West.
    Tonight she was in the mood for something young and fresh, brimming with untapped potential. She walked back into the condo and closed the door. The cable box’s tiny screen