A monster like that was right up Tragar’salley. He preferred to take targets who were dangerous and could give him agood fight. Even better if innocent lives might be at stake. In fact, when he’dseen that this female—this Emily Brooks—worked with younglings, he’d almosttaken her out from a distance at once, even though it wasn’t his usual way.Better to break his personal protocol that than risk young, innocent lives.

But he’d delayed—stilling the itchytrigger finger on his sonic rifle for two reasons. The first was he preferred afair fight. Unlike some of the other Verrak,he didn’t take targets at a distance. He took them somewhere safe andsecure and let them choose their weapon and fight him face to face—let them diewith honor. No matter what heinous crimes they had committed, everyone deserveddignity in death. That was Tragar’s belief, anyway.

The second reason he didn’t shoot, was thathe saw the way Emily interacted with the younglings. During his firstobservation one of them had fallen, scraping a chubby knee on the hard walkwaythat ran between the school buildings. The young one had run crying to Emily,her knee seeping blood, her eyes awash with tears.

Herewe go… Tragar’s finger had tightened on thetrigger. Surely the sight of blood would bring out the ravening monster Two hadsworn lurked in the innocent looking girl’s breast. He was ready to shoot herdown the moment she went for the youngling’s throat.

But instead of going feral—becoming athing of teeth and claws and appetite—the girl he had been sent to killgathered the youngling into her arms. She dried the little female’s tears andsaid some words of consolation—too low for Tragar to understand though he hadbeen studying her language for days now.

The little female had quieted, obviouslyfeeling safe and comforted in the arms of Tragar’s target, who still showed nosigns of attacking. Gradually, his finger had loosened on the trigger and thenhe had put down the rifle altogether and just watched.

Gods, it reminded him of Kallah…the wayshe was with Jalex when he hurt himself…

No! Tragar had pushed the memory away. He took a deep breath.I do not allow my past to dictate mypresent or my future. There is no then. There is only here and now. There isonly the target.

It a Verraksaying—a necessary reminder since most of those in his elite brotherhood camefrom a background of loss and sorrow. But though he repeated it to himself overand over, he still hadn’t been able to kill Emily Brooks. Not then and not now,ten days later.

He studied her—watching her wipe at hereyes with a hand that trembled. Why was she crying? What had agitated her so?For a moment he imagined holding her against him and asking her what was wrong.It was foolish of course—a fantasy that could never come true. But there was nodenying she would be pleasant to hold.

She had a lush body hidden beneath hershapeless garments—he could tell. It was a shame she didn’t wear clothing thatshowed her shape but just the outline of her curves was tantalizing. Not thathe was supposed to be looking at her that way—she was only another target,after all. Still, those full breasts and rounded hips…

A burning sensation in his left armbrought him back to reality. It was the narsh—themark of the Verrak—given to him whenhe first passed the trials and took the oath. Tragar looked down at the thickblack lines criss-crossing his muscular arm from shoulder to wrist. The narsh burned to remind him that he had ajob outstanding—a commission as yet undone.

Tragar ignored it. He was used to doingso. He never took jobs with time limits on them, preferring to take his timeand get every detail exactly right.

I justneed to know her, he argued withhimself. Need to find out what’s sospecial—what makes her dangerous before I pull the trigger.

And so he watched…and waited. Soon, hewould kill her soon.

But not…just…yet.

Read on for an excerpt from Mastering the Mistress, available for preorder here .

Kaylee looked at her new body slave with more than a littletrepidation. She hadn’t planned on getting such a large male—or such a wildlooking one. Despite the slaver’s reassurance that he was tamed and trained,the look in those pale green, gold-ringed eyes made her think otherwise. But hedidn’t say a word of protest as the lumpish security Crangs led him out to thefancy space flyer her Aunt Jamelda had left her, along with everything else inher will.

Kaylee had wanted to let him ride in the front, strapped intoone of the passenger chairs but Lyra had put her foot down. Slaves belonged inthe cargo hold until they were properly broken, she said, and she wasdetermined to be certain this Havoc male was perfectly trained before shetrusted him out in public.

The whole training ritual made Kaylee nearly as nervous as owninga slave in the first place. Lyra claimed he had to be broken to her will,whatever that meant. Kaylee wasn’t looking forward to the process of trying to“break” such a large male in any way.

She sighed as she thought back to her life just a month ago.She’d been living in relative obscurity on the other side of Yonnie Six,working as a shop girl in Tulga, a little town without much to recommend it.Still, Kaylee had been raised there and she’d been perfectly happy until hermother died about a year ago from an incurable wasting disease. She’d grieved along time, missing the kind and gentle woman who raised her. Then she’d takenstock of her life and realized she wanted more—more of what, exactly, shedidn’t know. But she did know she wasn’t content to live the rest of her lifein Tulga.

Luckily, just at that moment fate took a hand. She got wordthat her great Aunt Jamelda, her mother’s only living relative, had just passedaway in a freak cliff jumping accident. Jamelda had been seventy-six at thetime and well past her prime but in all her pictures, she didn’t appear mucholder than Kaylee’s own age of twenty-three. Either she had wonderful geneticsor she was addicted to enhancement surgery. Whatever the cause, it seemed sheliked living life to the fullest and when Kaylee had learned that she hadinherited a fortune, and a mansion in Opulex—the capital city of Yonnie Six—shehad decided to follow her great aunt’s example.

Unfortunately, living up to her great aunt included keeping upappearances. Kaylee had felt completely lost the first time she came to asociety function. It hadn’t helped that everyone there had ignored herentirely, even after the head body-slave had announced her as the heir of thegreat Jamelda.

Kaylee had wandered around feeling lost until Lyra had come upto her. Since she was the only one who was kind enough to speak to her, Kayleehad latched onto her quickly. Her new friend had kindly explained that herclothing was all wrong and her lack of a body slave was a social faux pas which couldn’t be excused underany circumstances.

Kaylee had invited Lyra back to the mansion her great aunt hadleft her and led her from room to room as Lyra’s eyes grew wider and wider. Shehad decided on the spot to make Kaylee her new “project” and together they werechanging her image from that of a poor, timid girl who didn’t know which waywas up to a sophisticated woman with the world at her fingertips.

The first step had been clothes. Looking down at the too-shortskirt she was wearing, which barely covered her panties, Kaylee felt a twingeof unease. In boring little Tulga, the tiny skirt and low-cut top that nearlyshowed her nipples would have been considered obscene. But in Opulex, where themost wealthy and powerful mistresses made their homes, it was everyday wear.Indeed, Lyra had assured her that her outfit was positively frumpy. She’dalready picked out some gowns for the next society fling that made Kaylee blushjust to look at them.