When Passion Lies: A Shadow Keepers Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

want it.
    No, for this kill, she wanted a blade. One quick motion across his throat—face-to-face so she could see his expression and watch as he understood that the time had come to pay for his sins. Risky, she knew. If Reinholt saw her face before he died, a percipient daemon could pull out that image. But the weather was getting harsher, and she already knew that Switzerland had no percipient daemon on staff. It would be hours before the body was found. Time was her ally. And what she wanted was worth the risk.
    She stepped forward, no longer caring about stealth. She wanted a fight. Craved it, in fact. Her daemon wanted to play. And as long as the weren ended up dead, she was more than happy to let her daemon get out and stretch its legs.
    But right then, Reinholt turned, and a flicker of joy passed through her as she saw the recognition—and the fear—in his eyes.
    She tensed but didn’t lunge. Didn’t move forward, didn’t attack, and for a split second she wondered at her hesitation. This was the weren she’d been looking for. The son of a bitch who’d destroyed her life, her love.
    Inside, the daemon growled, wanting blood. Her body itched to leap, the wolf within wanting to rip, to destroy.
    Still, though, she didn’t move, and as the blood boiling in her head calmed, she realized why. It wasn’t the kill she wanted—not right away. It was answers.
    “Why?”
    The question came out as a whisper, but she knew he heard it. Even so, he didn’t answer.
    “Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I’ll let you live.” It was a lie she didn’t regret telling.
    “Let me live?” He reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. Not something she usually feared, but this was the one man in all the world who would know what type of bullet would hurt her. Wooden bullets coated in silver. A weapon designed to kill either a vampire or a werewolf. Or both.
    “You.”
He held the gun steady. His finger moved on the trigger, and in that same instant, she launched herself sideways. The bullet sang out, burning through the leather sleeve of her coat, slicing into the flesh of her arm and raising a line of crimson that bubbled and burned through the leather of her jacket.
    He’d hurt her, but he hadn’t killed her. He’d fucked up there big-time.
    She fell back into the snow and rolled, and when she came up, she had her own gun in her hands.
    In the back of her mind, she registered approaching footfalls, moving faster than a human, but she couldn’t worry about that now. He was going to get off another round, and this was about survival. She fired one shot at his head, and he stumbled backward, a neat little hole in his skull. She stood, aimed, and put another through his heart, knocking him to the ground.
    The man she’d come to kill was dead, but somehow she didn’t feel any better.
    She drew herself up, ignoring the pain in her arm and the putrid scent of acid eating through leather. Someone was coming. She needed to go.
    And then she heard her name, and her heart quivered in her chest.
    “Caris!” he said again.
    She turned, not wanting to, but compelled to see his face. Because she knew that voice. Knew that man. And when she looked at him, it took her breath away.
    “Dammit, Caris, what the hell have you done?”
    She forced herself to smile, an outward picture of calm control even though inside she was shaking. “Hello, Tiberius,” she said. “It’s been a very, very long time.”

CHAPTER 4

    Tiberius had heard the shots fired as he transformed from mist back into his corporeal form. He hadn’t bothered waiting for Luke but had rushed through the clearing to the small picnic area that Reinholt had picked as their rendezvous point.
    He’d arrived in mere seconds, but even in that short time, he’d known it would be bad. How could it not be? A shoot-out. His informant likely dead or injured.
    And yet never once did he fathom it would be as horrible as the reality that faced him.
Caris
. Standing