He opened a briefcase fil ed with sensitive electronics, retrieving a minuscule GPS beacon/listening device. After careful y stowing the bug in another pocket, he tested his radio earpiece.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the bayou heat was intense, assailing the truck's cab. With the jacket, his customary gloves and high-necked shirt, he began to sweat. Drops of perspiration trickled down his chest, over the countless scars covering his torso.
His never-ending reminders of a time spent in hell. ...
Tamping down those memories, he focused on the mission. Tonight's was one of only two remaining.
Then he could return to his island, to his sanctum. To my medicine ...
With that thought in mind, he stepped out into the humid air, then began jogging along the dirt driveway.
Under a canopy of oaks, he ran through muddy ruts until he reached the estate's opened entranceway: a pair of battered stone columns, each with a rusted gate clinging by a hinge.
He turned a corner and slowed, taken aback by the sight before him.
The Valkyrie's antebel um mansion was draped in a dense fog that didn't stir, not even with the breeze.
Lightning struck all around the building; the grounds bristled with metal lightning rods. Spectral wraiths flew around the manor, defend-ing it against intruders.
An incongruous row of luxury cars lined the drive. Inside, loud music boomed and raucous women's laughter sounded. Intermittent Valkyrie shrieks pierced the night.
So this was where Regin the Radiant lived.
Though the Order possessed much information about other species of immortals-such as the vampires and demons-they had acquired only basic facts about her kind.
Valkyrie had little need for sleep and didn't eat or drink, instead taking nourishment from some unknown mystical source. Though they varied in looks and abilities, they all possessed superhuman strength, speed, and regenerative powers.
Declan knew of only one way to destroy her kind: beheading.
The Order had garnered a few specific details about Regin. History: Thought to be over one millennium in age. Description: Five foot three, slight build with smallclaws and fangs. Pointed ears.
Waist-length blond hair and amber eyes.
But her most notable feature was her skin. She'd been named the Radiant One because she purportedly had skin that glowed.
The file had contained no clear photos of her. The exposure would show only a bright light where she was supposed to be.
Glowing skin. Another freak of nature. Yet she went out freely among civilians.
She customarily wore two short swords crisscrossed over her back-even in public-and was rumored to be an exceptional swordswoman.
That skil wouldn't save her tonight.
If Declan had been put in charge of this immortal's capture, then she was a priority to the Order. He'd never failed to bring in a target. He had backup troops awaiting in the city, ready to mobilize in an instant.
Initial y, he'd considered storming this place, inflicting as much damage and destruction as possible.
But there were other Valkyrie inside, and though their species was uniformly female, they were among the strongest and most vicious in the Lore.
Regin might be slight, but she could likely lift a car by herself.
To bring in a team would risk his soldiers' lives unnecessarily, and he'd already lost men at a recent capture. A powerful, older vampire had put up a fight as few others ever had.
Plus, Declan had no idea how to battle those wraiths guarding the house. No, he'd wait until Regin the Radiant was separated from her kindred. Then he'd strike.
He approached the row of cars, pul ing the bug from his jacket. Determining which one was hers proved simple enough. The RegRad license plate on a red Aston Martin was a dead giveaway.
The field notes in his dossier had described her as ostentatious, prone to flaunting her uniqueness in public. No wonder she'd been targeted. One of the Order's objectives was to prevent civilians from ever discovering the deathless beings living in their midst.
He eased open the door and affixed the bug under the driver's side headrest. After testing the sound with his earpiece, he gingerly shut the door and turned to leave-
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a light, turned to it.
Through one of the mansion's front windows, he spotted her, or at least the radiance she emanated.
She does truly glow. ...
He silently moved in, camouflaged behind a tree about two hundred feet from the front porch. He couldn't see her face, but from the back, her figure was curvaceous. She wore a pair of indecently low-cut hip-hugger jeans and a cropped red T-shirt that revealed her midriff.
Indeed, two swords in black leather sheaths crisscrossed her back.
Her blond hair cascaded all the way to her waist, except where it was braided into haphazard plaits that jutted out all over the top and sides of her head.
Declan suspected she would be as attractive from the front; Lorean females often were. He detested all immortals but especial y the females. They used their seductive looks as a weapon, a tool to rob mortal men of their senses.
They will separate you from your purpose, lure you to your doom. How many times had his superior told him that?
A row of bushes between him and the house rustled. Another enemy lying in wait? The Valkyrie had plenty of adversaries. And they had no idea danger lurked so close-
The front doors burst open; a woman stormed outside.
Regin.
He released a sharp breath.
Those wild braids held her hair back from her face, revealing all her delicate features. Her cheekbones were high and defined, her nose pert. Blond brows drew together over her vivid amber eyes, and her full lips were parted.
She radiated a pure golden light.
A feeling of recognition swept over him. At once, the near crippling tension he'd endured for decades began to ebb. Why? How?
She wasn't the first unearthly beauty they'd tracked-the Order's island compound was fil ed with them -so he would've thought himself prepared for her comeliness. But he feared she might be the most beautiful.
At least to me.
"Make a hole, bitches!" she yel ed to the wraiths, tossing one of them ... a braid of hair? When the red- robed beings parted, she strode down the steps, her thick-heeled boots clicking.
Out on the lawn, she stopped and cocked her head, drawing those swords with a lethal grace. One of her pointed ears was visible and clearly twitching as she scanned the night. She would see Declan ...would sense him.
He was about to slip back when the bushes nearby rustled once more.
Without a second's thought she dove into them, pouncing on whatever skulked there. A moment later, a ghoul's severed head came flying out. When she bounded from the shrubs, her swords were already sheathed and twigs protruded from those haphazard braids. She reached up, felt them, then left them there with a shrug.