Nightbred by Lynn Viehl Read Free Book Online Page A

massive wall of surveillance monitors kept watch over the club’s interior as well as every inch of the properties surrounding the building. Concealed behind an Alan Pollack painting at the far end of Burke’s office, a vault held enough weapons for the suzerain to stage a respectable coup.
    Should Castro’s brother decide to invade, we must have the means with which to blow him back to hell,
Lucan had told her once.
Besides, one can never have too many AK-47s.
    Chris went to the desk, gingerly lowering herself into Burke’s chair before she faced his teleconferencing terminal, on which he still had the Darth Vader screen saver she’d installed for his birthday. When Lucan had seen it for the first time, Burke had told him—with a perfectly straight face, no less—what a huge fan of the Star Wars movies he was.
    This was no time for joking around now, though. Chris straightened her jacket, smoothed a hand over her hair, and reached out to input the access code on the terminal’s keyboard.
    Her hand shook as it hovered over the keys.
I can do this,
she told herself.
It’s the only way Jamys and I can be together, and I can make something of myself.
    Vader dissolved, re-forming into the deeply lined face of a gray-haired man in a beautiful Italian suit.
    “Good evening, Padrone Ramas,” Chris said, silently thanking Burke for making her memorize the faces of all the men on the
tresoran
council. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” Lord, she was already apologizing.
Be professional. Show him that you’re already a
tresora
in attitude if not name.
“How may I be of service?”
    “The council has deliberated over your request to be granted official status within Suzerain Lucan’s household,” Ramas said. “Is it still your desire to attain the rank of
tresora
?”
    “Yes, sir.” Under the keyboard shelf she crossed her fingers. “I want that more than anything.”
    “We appreciate your service to the suzerain, Miss Lang. The letters of recommendation you sent from Mr. Burke and Lady Samantha were most persuasive. Burke indicates that you have successfully completed your training in all aspects of protocol and household management.” He steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “However, attaining the rank of
tresora
is no small thing. Only a very few humans are trusted with our masters’ secrets and livelihood. Your service would be for the duration of your lifetime, and you would be expected to attend to and protect your lord’s well-being and safety, even at the cost of your own. Once you embark on this path, Miss Lang, there is no turning back or changing your mind. If you have any uncertainty, now is the time to act on it.”
    He made it sound as if she was selling herself into slavery, which in a sense she was. “I understand, Padrone, and I don’t have any doubt about this decision. The Darkyn are my family. I’d do anything for them.”
    “I am glad to hear it, for the council has decided to set you one final task with which to prove your loyalty and resourcefulness.” He held up a page of parchment filled with calligraphic writing. “The high lord has sent out this summons to every stronghold in the Americas; it will be delivered by private courier to your master within the next several days. In short, it presents a challenge to every Kyn warrior under rule to recover three jewels known as the Emeralds of Eternity. He who delivers the gems to Lord Tremayne is to be given rule of Ireland.”
    Chris frowned. Should she tell him that the summons had already arrived, and had nearly started a small war between the garrison and the visitors? Burke had always advised her that whatever happened in the stronghold stayed in the stronghold. “That’s very generous of the high lord.”
    “Were these common emeralds, I would agree with you. But these particular jewels are very rare, and quite lethal.” He put down the summons. “While the council appreciates the high lord’s . . .