Yeah, he’d done that up right.

“So this asshole visits churches because he’s so religious, but he’s killed like a million people? I don’t get it, man. My religion and his do not even exist on the same planet.” Alex was always chatty when they were working.

Ian stepped into the ornate cathedral, the sunlight of the day giving way to a subdued light. Massive crystal chandeliers ran down the center of the space. There were no pews. No one sat in an orthodox Russian church. There was even a space left, a remnant of czarist Russia. It sat before the altar, a place swathed in rich cloth that led up to a gold covering. It was where the czar would stand.

All around him were white marble coffins with gold crosses, the final resting place of Russia’s leaders.

They were about to get a new friend. Mikhail Denisovitch claimed he was a czar. He could join them.

“That’s because you don’t understand European religions, boyo. Your religion is what, two hundred years old?” Liam got in on the discussion. “Call me back when it’s properly aged.”

Liam stepped by him, winking as he went. He nodded toward the right side of the church. “I think you’ll find what you’re looking fer over there, mate.”

Ian stopped looking at the green and white ceiling overhead. Every inch of the cathedral was painted or gilded. But he wasn’t looking for beauty.

He turned to the right and spotted his prey.

Mikhail Denisovitch stood in front of a velvet rope looking into a room off the main floor.

“This is the resting place of the Romanovs,” a tour guide was saying. “Hopefully we can get closer.”

Denisovitch turned and the tour guide paled.

“We come back later. Come along. It is almost time for our lunch.”

The gaggle of tourists flocked away. Denisovitch stared ahead, looking at the tombs of the Romanov family, slaughtered that day by the Bolsheviks at their Winter Palace. They had finally found their way here.

Ian glanced at his watch. Ten seconds if he was properly synced.

Liam flanked him, Alex coming up on the right.

The guard who was standing slightly behind Denisovitch tipped his hat and walked away, likely to join Dusan outside. Their prey was left with no one to watch over him.

Ian slipped the knife from where he’d hidden it in his sleeve. It slid into his gloved hand.

Then the world seemed to explode. The building shook. The ground beneath them reverberated with the sound.

The cannons from the Naryshkin Bastion went off every day at noon. And every day at noon the tourists screamed and turned and, just for a moment, were afraid.

That was the moment Ian Taggart struck.

He pushed his knife in precisely under Denisovitch’s ribs and into the man’s heart. There was a small gasp and the jerk of a body as it fought briefly for life.

“For Charlotte.” It didn’t matter if Denisovitch heard him. All that mattered was the job was complete and his wife no longer had to fear for her life. He eased the man down behind the velvet rope and off to the side, left the knife in, and turned and walked away.

He and Charlie were free to live the way they wanted to—together.

The sun was bright on Ian’s face as he turned toward the river and made his way out of the enclosure. With Alex and Liam behind him, they made their way to the edge of the fort and down the steps to the rocky shore where Simon and Jesse and Eve waited at the water’s edge with a boat.

Then she turned and he caught sight of her. His Charlie had her face to the sun, soaking in the day.

The sun had nothing on her.

“Are we ready to head home, then?” Liam asked.

“Yes, we are,” Ian replied, walking toward the boat.

It didn’t matter, though. Home had ceased to be a place for Ian Taggart. He hopped on the boat, the waters of the Neva rocking them as Simon fired the engine and they pulled away.

“Hello, my Master,” Charlie said to him, her wedding ring sparkling in the light as she put her arms around his neck and held her face up for a kiss.

“Hello, my love.” He looked down at the collar he’d placed around her neck before taking her mouth with his.

“Newlyweds,” Eve said, grinning. “They can’t keep their hands off each other.”

Alex took that as a cue to kiss his wife silly. Ian couldn’t let his best friend have all the fun. He kissed his Charlie again, the wind whipping through their hair as Simon started toward the Palace Bridge.

No. He didn’t need to go anywhere to be home. He was already there.


* * * *


Kensington

London, England


The Garden was quiet at this time of day, and Damon Knight preferred working here to dragging himself into the gloom of MI6. Everyone was always rushing about, doing very important things. Everything was important at MI6. The Garden was his own personal kingdom, and he missed it when he was on assignment. He tried to stay in his own quiet office as much as possible when he was in England.

He stared at the e-mail he’d just received. It looked like there was a new head of the Denisovitch syndicate. His operative in Russia announced that Denisovitch had been found dead at the Peter and Paul Cathedral just an hour before. He claimed that Dusan Denisovitch was already moving to consolidate power.

Good for Taggart. Knight had offered his own services in bringing down the man who was threatening McKay-Taggart, but he’d been quite forcibly turned down.

That had actually hurt a bit more than he would have thought. He couldn’t take it too personally. After all, Taggart had told Tennessee Smith to go to hell as well.

It just wasn’t every day that he had a man he considered a friend suspect him of being a traitor.

And it wasn’t every bloody day that he had to conclude that his partner was the real traitor.

Fuck him. The evidence was right there in front of him, a long string of coincidences that led to one conclusion—Baz was working with Nelson before he’d died.

Damon shoved a hand through his hair and cursed.

Baz had been his best mate for years. How could he not have bloody well seen it?

The door to his office opened. At this time of day, there were usually a few submissives working, cleaning the club and preparing for the night’s scenes. He’d asked Jane, a sweet sub he’d been playing with lately, to bring him tea. And Scotch. He would need it to make the call he was about to make. He had to talk to the higher ups about arresting the man who had been by his side for years.

Was he really going to make that call? Or was he going to try to deal with it on his own. Maybe Baz had gotten in trouble. He could be impulsive. Maybe he should check into it further.

“Come in, pet.” He turned toward the door.

And stopped. It looked like he wouldn’t get a chance to make that decision about his friend.

Baz stood there, a Ruger in his hand. “Sorry, mate. Jane is, shall we say, unable to perform at the moment. Well, she’s dead, so not likely she’ll be performing anytime soon.”

Before Damon could get out of his seat, Baz pulled the trigger and pain slammed into Damon’s system. His chest. He had a bullet in his chest. Damon fell back, his hand coming up to cover the place where the bullet had gone in. He fell forward, hitting his desk.

He couldn’t breathe. He tried to suck air in but somehow his lungs weren’t working. He could hear a wheezing sound, like a balloon slowly losing its air.

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t let you make that call. I’ve been watching you. I know you figured it out. Couldn’t have been too hard after the way Nelson fucked everything up. I need to thank the Taggarts for killing him. I just got promoted.” He unplugged Damon’s laptop.

From Damon’s vantage he could only see his old friend’s waist as he retreated with the laptop and his cell phone.

“You should have come with me, Damon. It’s far more fun to work on the dark side, so to speak. But you just liked to play at being a Dominant. I’m the real thing. See you in Hell, brother.”

The sounds of footsteps retreated, though everything seemed to be retreating. Sound, vision, feeling.

Everything except one.

Rage filled him.

As the darkness threatened to take him, Damon Knight knew one thing. Revenge would get him through.

Damon Knight and the McKay-Taggart crew will return in 2014 with Dungeon Royale.


Dungeon Royale


Masters and Mercenaries, Book 6

By Lexi Blake

Coming 2014!


Broken by betrayal, one woman holds the secret to his redemption…


An agent broken


MI6 agent Damon Knight prided himself on always being in control. His missions were executed with cold, calculating precision. His club, The Garden, was run with an equally ordered and detached decadence. But his perfect world was shattered by one bullet, fired from the gun of his former partner. That betrayal almost cost him his life and ruined his career. His handlers want him to retire, threatening to revoke his license to kill if he doesn’t drop his obsession with a shadowy organization called The Collective. To earn their trust, he has to prove himself on a unique assignment with an equally unusual partner.


A woman tempted


Penelope Cash has spent her whole life wanting more. More passion. More adventure. But duty has forced her to live a quiet life. Her only excitement is watching the agents of MI6 as they save England and the world. Despite her training, she’s only an analyst. The closest she is allowed to danger and intrigue is in her dreams, which are often filled with one Damon Knight. But everything changes when the woman assigned to pose as Damon’s submissive on his latest mission is incapacitated. Penny is suddenly faced with a decision. Stay in her safe little world or risk her life and her heart for Queen and country.


An enemy revealed


With the McKay-Taggart team at their side, Damon and Penny hunt an international terrorist across the great cities of Northern Europe. Playing the part of her Master, Damon begins to learn that under Penny’s mousy exterior is a passionate submissive, one who just might lay claim to his cold heart. But when Damon’s true enemy is brought out of the shadows, it might be Penny who pays the ultimate price.


Steal the Day


Thieves, Book 2

By Lexi Blake

Coming October 22, 2013!


The world’s most unusual thief faces her greatest challenge—stealing a soul from the depths of Hell…


When a member of her crew is dragged to Hell by a demon, Zoey plans the most dangerous heist of her career. With her team at her side, Zoey intends to sneak onto the Hell plane and steal Sarah back.


The job seems impossible until a new client makes them an offer too good to refuse. If she can find an ancient artifact called The Revelation, she can use it to locate an angel who holds Sarah’s redemption in his hands.


Surrounded by warring angels and demons, the greatest threat may come from one of her own. Torn between her Fae lover and the vampire who has always held her heart, Zoey finds that she and Dev are trapped in Daniel’s web of secrets, and it may be Zoey who has to pay the ultimate price.


* * * *


Chapter One


I stretched as I rolled out of bed, trying not to wake the man next to me. I caught sight of Devinshea Quinn and couldn’t help but stare. His tan skin made a stark contrast to the white sheets. His dark hair was mussed from our activities, and though his face was relaxed, there was no way to soften that perfectly shaped jawline. The sheet was around his waist leaving most of his lean, muscular body on display. Everything about Dev Quinn was perfect, from his washboard abs to his cut chest, to those ridiculously sensual lips. I felt a smile cross my face as I sat there and just watched him sleep.

He shifted, rolling over in bed, and I decided it was time to go. As much as I liked to look at him, I really didn’t want the argument that was sure to come when he realized where I was going.

I stood up and was finally able to get out of the Christian Louboutin’s Dev had gifted me with earlier in the evening. I flexed my feet. The shoes were ridiculously gorgeous. My eyes had widened when I opened the box, and my heart had fluttered. It hadn’t taken Dev long before he had me in the shoes and nothing else. Those shoes were exciting and sexy, and just the slightest bit uncomfortable. They were a little like my relationship with Dev. The sex was incredible, and while I was in bed with Dev, I didn’t think about anything but him. The minute I rolled out of bed, I wanted to get out of those shoes and put on a pair of Converse. That was our problem.