Thank you to all my beta readers who have helped me to fine-tune this novel.

I appreciate everything you have done to help me more than I could possibly say.

This book is for the fans who kept saying “more Kategans!”

B’lad! – Russian for ‘Fuck!’

Drook – Russian for ‘friend’

Millaya moya – A Russian term of endearment meaning ‘my sweet’

Ochen horosho – Russian for ‘very good’

Suka – Russian for ‘shit’

“Take ten steps back and put your hands between the bars.” The heavy metal chains around the prisoner’s feet clinked as he shuffled back towards the bars. The guards’ eyes followed the prisoner as he took baby steps backwards to the bars. His hands and arms hung loosely at his sides, palms open. He lifted his hands, resting them between the bars.

“Do not move as the guard cuffs your wrists.”

The silver cuffs closed around his wrists with a clink.

“Stand back as we open the door,” the guard ordered.

The prisoner took ten steps forward and waited as the guard unlocked the door and came in. They grabbed him roughly by the arms and dragged him out. They spoke around him as if he weren’t there.

“Deb making BBQ tonight?”

The guard on the right smiled at the mention of his mate. “Sure is. You should come, bring that female you’ve been sniffin’ around.”

“Nah, we’ve already parted ways.”

The guard tossed back his head and laughed.

“You never cease to surprise me, Mark.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for. That and your mate’s fine barbecued chicken. Mmm, mmm. That woman could steal my heart with that sauce of hers.” They made their way down the hall and through a security gate that led outside. The two guards waited with their prisoner inside the door as they looked outside. Two more guards armed with shotguns filled with silver bullets waited beside a secured van. The specially made vans were used for carrying their most dangerous prisoners. Claude Phelans was one of their worst.

The guards outside nodded and one moved to the van’s door to turn the handle. The solid mechanical door clanked, and then opened in a piercing squeal of metal.

The trio opened the final door, squinting at the blazing sunlight as they ushered the prisoner outside.

“It’s Justicar’s justice for you, Claude.”

The guards shoved the prisoner forward and he stumbled into the awaiting guards’ arms.

That’s when he made his attack.

In a quick, fluid move, the prisoner jabbed his elbow into the guard’s stomach at his left.

He caught him by surprise and snatched his silver-bullet loaded shotgun, pulled the trigger, then spun around shooting as shouts sounded.

Hot shards embedded into the prisoner’s back and hip as he lifted the gun and fired three rounds. One guard dropped to the ground. The guard behind him shouted for help as the prisoner turned to him. The guard fired, the shot landed in the prisoner’s chest burning like hot coals puncturing his skin. Only it was worse, the silver weakened him, draining his strength, and slowing his movements. But madness drove him. Insatiable determination drove him as he lifted the rifle at the only standing guard, aimed for his head, and pulled the trigger until it clicked empty.

He ignored the lifeless bodies around him and knelt to snatch the keys that would unlock his handcuffs. A loud, roaring siren sounded from the prison walls. Shouts sounded inside the prison walls. He didn’t rush but unshackled his bindings with slow precision before making his way to the driver’s door. He started the van with a rumbling purr then drove off the lot.

He had business to finish. His people depended on him to fix things. His eyes darted wildly across the road like a fly trying to get out a window. Only one thought ran through his mind over and over again--the Kategans. He had to kill the Kategans.

Dmetri leaned back against the bar and motioned for the woman to come forward. She did with a small, sexy smile on her red painted lips. Tall and slender, she wore an elegant gold-sequined gown that fell across her high-heeled feet.

She stopped before him and gently laid her long finger-nailed hands on his chest. Her hair was made up into a fancy updo that swept her hair away from her neck, just as he’d ordered.

“Lovely,” he murmured.

Her eyes closed and a smiled widened at his compliment. Dmetri’s stomach rolled with hunger at the sight of her pulse beating at her bare neck. He’d been so busy lately he hadn’t had time to take fresh from the tap, so to speak.

If he were a more patient man he’d start with a kiss for what he had planned for his entertainment tonight, but his stomach panged and rolled making his decision for him. He cupped her jaw, feeling the baby soft skin and wrapped an arm around her slender waist to bring her closer. Her breaths came quicker in anticipation and his cock responded, hardening.

He tilted her head to the side, arched her delicate neck, and pressed his lips to her skin.

For a moment, he almost sighed in disappointment. Long ago memories hit him, reminding him of the feel of a fresh human beneath his lips. The thought was so surprising that he pulled back with a frown. Dammit, he wasn’t going to let that ruin his entertainment. Forcing the strange thought away, he pressed his lips back to her throat and didn’t hesitate any longer before sinking his teeth into her slender neck.

She made a soft sound that lengthened his cock even more. Her hands were gentle as she curled them into his suit jacket. Another wave of disappointment hit him and he growled with frustration and quickly took what he needed from her. She was sweet as a grape might be, not too sweet, not too tangy, and his tongue happily tasted her.

The rolling in his stomach stopped like a crashing wave coming to a soft lolling motion.

He pulled away from her and pushed her against the bar. She leaned onto it, her breaths erratic as he slid her gown up to her waist.

Just as ordered, she wore black stockings that stopped at her thighs and were held up by thin black straps from her garter belt. Her ass was pale and rounded but he didn’t care about that.

His cock was so hard he was going to go crazy if he didn’t get inside her now.

In a swish of soft fabric, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his expensive suit pants to the floor. Gripping her hips, he pulled her back. She arched back towards him, her head back, waiting for him.

Dmetri gripped her soft cheeks and pulled them apart as he found her wet entrance with his cock. His fingers tightened around her in response to the creamy wet heat he found there.

He pushed in—and stopped. A piercing, repetitive beep broke through the quiet room like a jackhammer. Cursing, he pulled up his pants and snatched his cell phone from the bar.

“What?” he growled.

“Lovely to speak with you as always,” a deep voice said.

Dmetri rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in his friend Brayden’s voice. The man was old as dirt, boring to boot, but excelled at sarcasm.

“Get on with it. I’m...busy.” He peered over at his entertainment to see her waiting in the same position; her expensive dress thrown up to her waist like a cheap harlot. He almost laughed.

She was anything but cheap. He gave her a nod and she pulled her dress down and rushed into the other room, closing the door quietly behind her.