Razor's Edge
Shannon K. Butcher
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Teaser chapter
FIRST IN A BRAND-NEW SERIES FROM
ALSO BY SHANNON K. BUTCHER
Praise for Shannon K. Butcher
and the Sentinel Wars Novels
Finding the Lost
“Exerts much the same appeal as Christine Feehan’s Carpathian series, what with tortured heroes, the necessity of finding love or facing a fate worse than death, hot lovemaking, and danger-filled adventure.”
—Booklist
“A terrific grim thriller with the romantic subplot playing a strong supporting role. The cast is powerful as the audience will feel every emotion that Andra feels, from fear for her sister to fear for her falling in love. Finding the Lost is a dark tale as Shannon K. Butcher paints a forbidding, gloomy landscape in which an ancient war between humanity’s guardians and their nasty adversaries heats up in Nebraska.”
—Alternative Worlds
“A very entertaining read . . . the ending was a great cliffhanger, and I can’t wait to read the next book in this series . . . a fast-paced story with great action scenes and lots of hot romance.”
—The Book Lush
“Butcher’s paranormal reality is dark and gritty in this second Sentinel Wars installment. What makes this story so gripping is the seamlessly delivered hard-hitting action and wrenching emotions. Butcher is a major talent in the making.”
—Romantic Times
Burning Alive
“Starts off with nonstop action. Readers will race through the pages, only to reread the entire novel to capture every little detail . . . a promising start for a new voice in urban fantasy/ paranormal romance. I look forward to the next installment.”
—A Romance Review (5 roses)
“This first book of the Sentinel Wars whets your appetite for the rest of the books in the series. Ms. Butcher is carving her way onto the bestseller lists with this phenomenal nonstop ride that will have you preordering the second book the minute you put this one down.”
—Affaire de Coeur (5 stars)
“Absorbing . . . Butcher skillfully balances erotic, tender interactions with Helen’s worries, and intriguing secondary characters further enhance the unusual premise. Fans of Butcher’s romantic suspense novels will enjoy her turn toward the paranormal.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Ms. Butcher offers fresh and delightfully creative elements in this paranormal romance, keeping readers engaged as the story unfolds. Burning Alive is a well-crafted beginning to this exciting new series, and will have fans of the genre coming back for the next adventure in the Sentinel Wars.”
—Darque Reviews
“An exciting romantic urban fantasy.... Shannon K. Butcher adds her trademark suspense with plenty of tension and danger to the mix of a terrific paranormal thriller.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Burning Alive is Shannon Butcher’s first foray into paranormal romance and what a doozy it is! Filled with sizzling love scenes, great storytelling, and action galore, fans of paranormal romance will rejoice to have Ms. Butcher finally join the genre!”
—ParaNormal Romance
“A different twist on the paranormal genre. . . . Overall, Shannon K. Butcher has done a good job with Burning Alive, and I will definitely be reading the next in the series.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
ALSO BY SHANNON K. BUTCHER
NOVELS OF THE SENTINEL WARS
Living Nightmare
Running Scared
Finding the Lost
Burning Alive
Blood Hunt
THE EDGE NOVELS
Living on the Edge
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, November 2011
ISBN : 978-1-101-55878-2
Copyright © Shannon K. Butcher, 2011 All rights reserved
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE
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.
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http://us.penguingroup.com
For Cindy Hwang, who is a truly awesome editor.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am blessed to have many people in my life to thank. I have a family, who is supportive of my work, even when it means they have to fend for their own food and clean underwear. I have good friends who help me keep my sanity and forget wor
k by playing with little bits of colored glass, thread, and paper. I have beta readers who lovingly point out my endless mistakes and listen to me ramble about stories for hours on end. And I have readers who cheer me on and make me feel like a rock star. All of you touch my life and make it a sweeter place. I couldn’t do this job without you. Thank you.
Chapter One
Catching a thief was easy. Catching a thief in the act was more of a challenge—one that made Roxanne Haught’s skin sizzle with eager anticipation.
The lavish retirement party was her idea, despite the fact she’d never met the guest of honor. It was the perfect trap, complete with juicy bait her target would be unable to resist.
She mingled among the well-dressed partygoers, smiling and making small talk as she passed from one cluster of people to the next, waiting for the right time to strike.
Her client, Mr. Chord, had graciously opened his home for his friend’s party—something the middle-aged reclusive genius had never done before. Because of that, dozens of people had come here tonight, curious to get a peek into the executive’s estate.
Roxanne cared little about the details of the hand-carved woodwork or the intricacies of the mosaic tile floor inlaid with semiprecious stone, which seemed to delight many of the people here. She’d seen it all before. She was more interested in the number of exits on each floor and the location of the information she’d been hired to guard.
The stage was set. The party was in full swing. Mr. Chord had made sure his newest employee, the unlikely named Mary Smith, knew that the plans for Chord Industries’ latest invention were being kept safe on his hard drive at home, away from any possible thieves at the office. That machine had no Internet or network connection, making hacking it from a remote location impossible. No copies were being stored elsewhere, not since the last fiasco. If someone wanted that information, the only way to get it was by breaking into his home office.
He was being extra careful this time. Too bad for Mary Smith her boss suspected her of the theft and had hired Roxanne to catch her in the act.
The Kevlar designed into the bodice of Roxanne’s beaded evening gown gave her little comfort. Mary looked more like the kind of woman who would prefer knives—up close, personal, and silent.
She was a small, innocent-looking woman. She had delicate, softly rounded features, like a porcelain doll. Her bright, cherry red hair was styled in an old-fashioned manner that reminded Roxanne of glamorous actresses from the 1940s. Her dress matched her flamboyant hair color and skimmed the kind of curves that made men forget their own names. If it weren’t for the fact that her boss was a freaking genius, Mary probably would have continued to get away with stealing his intellectual property.
But Mr. Chord was a genius, and, after a bit of surveillance, Roxanne was sure he was right. Mary Smith was a thief.
Roxanne stood on the grand staircase leading to the second floor where several people mingled, both here and on the balcony above. She watched Mary laugh at something Mr. Chord said, placing her delicate hand on his chest while she batted her fake eyelashes. The redhead stared up at him in rapt attention, hanging on his every word. Her hands were quick, but Roxanne was watching carefully, expecting the woman to make a move.
Mary didn’t disappoint. With a quick, graceful motion, she swiped Mr. Chord’s key card from his breast pocket, palming it until it was safely in her red beaded evening bag.
Busted, but not good enough yet. Mary had to be caught stealing the information, or no one would believe little Miss Innocent was guilty of anything more than stunning good looks.
Mary excused herself, heading toward the staircase. Roxanne turned to the nearest group of people and chatted with them as the other woman passed behind her, moving up the stairs, to the right, toward Mr. Chord’s office.
Roxanne caught Mr. Chord’s gaze and gave him a slight nod. Tonight, she was going to plug her client’s information leak once and for all.
A smile stretched Roxanne’s lips as she waited until the last flash of red skirt was gone before following Mary down the hallway. The floor plan to Mr. Chord’s home was firmly in her mind. There was only one reason Mary would be headed down this hall—to reach Mr. Chord’s office.
Roxanne waited a few brief seconds outside the solid wood door, giving Mary time to power up the PC and begin her illegal hacking.
The high-tech keypad controlling the office door indicated the door was securely locked. Roxanne used her key to open the lock. By the time she swung the door open, Mary was already standing, her eyes wide with innocence.
“What are you doing in here?” asked Roxanne.
“Mr. Chord asked me to look over some of his papers.” She held up a key card. “See? He gave me his key.”
“Liar,” said Roxanne, her grin widening. “But then everything from your dyed hair to your name to that résumé you used to get hired is a lie.”
Mary did a good job of sputtering in indignation and picked up her cell phone from the desk. “How dare you? I’m calling Mr. Chord right now to have security escort you out.”
“Go ahead,” said Roxanne, shrugging. Mary was caught, and if the sweat beading along her hairline was any indication, she knew it. The only way out was through the door behind Roxanne, or out the window, which was easily twenty feet down, thanks to the high ceilings on Mr. Chord’s first floor. It was too high up to jump out the window, and there was no place in that outfit for her to hide rappelling gear.
Mary Smith was well and truly caught.
“I’ve been made,” said Mary into the cell phone. “Heads up. Window.”
Roxanne’s confusion lasted for a millisecond, but even that was too long. Mary had a partner—something Roxanne had failed to uncover.
Roxanne lunged across the room to stop the woman, but before she could cross the space, Mary hurled a stapler through the window, jerked a USB drive out of the PC, and tossed it through the broken opening. Roxanne slammed into Mary, pinning her to the frame of the window. Outside, she saw a man below pick up the drive and sprint off across Mr. Chord’s manicured lawn.
Sure, the data on the drive was fake, but that wasn’t the point. Roxanne had been charged with catching a thief, and she’d failed to realize there were two of them.
Fury boiled up inside of her as she grabbed the dainty woman’s arm to spin her around and tie her wrists with the flex cuffs she’d brought with her. Mary had other ideas.
She lashed out, slamming her pointy elbow into Roxanne’s stomach. Pain flew out from that spot, driving the air from her lungs. Mary shoved away from Roxanne, but she moved only two feet before Roxanne snagged her arm and jerked her to a halt.
“You’re not getting away,” Roxanne snarled.
Mary’s hand snapped out, striking Roxanne’s forearm hard enough to break her grip, likely leaving a bruise. She reached beneath her short skirt and pulled out a slim knife. “Like hell I’m not.”
Sometimes being right sucked.
Roxanne hated knives. She really did. She’d much rather be at the receiving end of a nice, fat shotgun. There was something inherently wicked about knives, something far more sinister than the effective simplicity of a revolver, or the efficiency of a semiautomatic pistol. Guns were designed to kill; knives were designed to hurt. It took a long time to die from stab wounds, unless a person were lucky enough to have an artery severed. And while Roxanne had been trained to deal with the threat, facing a shiny blade again still had the power to make her break out in a nervous sweat.
Mary stabbed forward, slicing at Roxanne’s arm. The blade didn’t cut her, but she was sure some of the hair on her forearm had been shaved clean. Good thing she’d brought a gun to a knife fight. It was in her evening bag, which she’d dropped on the floor by the door when Mary had shattered the window. All Roxanne had to do was get to it and the fight would be over—one way or another.
Mary kept swiping, holding Roxanne at bay as she backed up to make her exit. Roxanne made sure not to glance at her beaded bag,
not wanting to give away that it was important to her. A woman cruel enough to carry a blade as her weapon of choice would not hesitate to use anything against her she could find.
“I’m leaving. Keep quiet, and I won’t hurt anyone on my way out,” said Mary. The wicked gleam in her dark eyes spoke differently.
“Bullshit. We both know that’s a lie.”
A slow, amused smile spread across Mary’s mouth as she backed up a bit more. Roxanne followed her up. As she passed the desk, she picked up a heavy crystal paperweight and flung it at Mary’s head.
The woman dodged, and Roxanne took the opening. She charged forward, gripping Mary’s wrist and shoving it high to keep the knife away from her. She used her momentum to slam the woman into the hardwood door. Mary’s head hit hard. She blinked several times as if dazed.
Roxanne didn’t wait to see whether it was an act. She smashed the knife hand against the wood, over and over until the gleaming metal fell to the floor.
Mary screamed in outrage and head butted Roxanne right in the nose.
Pain flashed red behind her eyes, making them water like crazy.
Roxanne grabbed the front of the woman’s dress and flung her to the floor, face-first. Mary’s skin squeaked against the gleaming hardwood floor. Roxanne crashed down on top of her, driving her knee into Mary’s back hard enough to make her cry out in pain. Something along Mary’s back popped, but Roxanne didn’t care what it was. She wrenched Mary’s hands behind her and pinned them there while she fished a set of flex cuffs from her evening bag.
