In Other Worlds

Table of Contents

 

 

 

Welcome to my worlds . . .

In response to fan demand, this is a collection of short stories I wrote for Berkley many years ago. Originally published in three separate anthologies, they are now brought together in one volume and are a sampling of some of my universes.

“Fire and Ice” comes from my League series. Completely rewritten with new scenes, and more pages, it's the story of Adron, the son of Nykyrian and Kiara from
Born of Night
. He is, without a doubt, one of my most tortured heroes. Originally written as a novel, I cut it down to a novella just so I could see it in print since at that time no one would publish a full-standing futuristic novel. I'm thrilled to see it included in this collection.

Next is the fantasy piece “Knightly Dreams.” The idea was born on a road trip and looks at my personal belief of where characters come from and what happens to them if writers abandon them. It's quirky and odd, and completely unrelated to anything I've ever written, but I love it just the same and I hope you will, too.

Lastly is “Dragonswan,” which was the first of my Were-Hunter stories to see print. A companion series to my Dark-Hunter world, it explores my clan of shape-shifting dragons and features Sebastian, who's been mentioned in several of the Dark-Hunter books. I adore my dragons and hope to write a book about Damos one day soon.

If you'd like more information about the worlds and to see character profiles, please visit my website, sherrilyn
kenyon.com
. In the meantime, I hope you have a great read and that you'll come back to my worlds many more times.

 

Hugs,
Sherrilyn

PRAISE FOR SHERRILYN KENYON AND HER NOVELS

“Kenyon's writing is brisk, ironic, sexy, and relentlessly imaginative.”

—
The Boston Globe

 

“Kenyon's Dark-Hunter books are changing the face of the vampire novel, making it hip, darker, and all the more appealing to the next generation of readers.”

 

“Kenyon delivers the goods readers have come to expect and more.”

 

“An engaging read.”

 

“
Acheron
is a must read.”

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

IN OTHER WORLDS

 

A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley mass-market edition / July 2010

Copyright © 2010 by Sherrilyn Kenyon.

“Fire and Ice” copyright © 2004, 2010 by Sherrilyn Kenyon, a previous version was published in
Man of My Dreams
.

“Knightly Dreams” copyright © 2005 by Sherrilyn Kenyon, previously published in
What Dreams May Come
.

“Dragonswan” copyright © 2002 by Sherrilyn Kenyon, previously published in
Tapestry
.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-45766-5

 

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^®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY
^®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

FIRE AND ICE

ONE

“So you're a badass assassin, huh? You don't look like much to me.”

Adron Quiakides paused his drink halfway to his lips. His blood rushed through his veins like lava as he narrowed his gaze on the beefy human in front of him.

His elite military training allowed him to size the bastard up in a nanosecond. Dressed in black because he thought it made him look tough, the man wore an abundance of weapons in plain sight, which said he didn't know how to use any of them properly. The obnoxious idiot was hoping the sheer number alone would deter anyone from messing with him.

As if . . .

His clothes were two sizes too small to show off the muscles that were out of proportion with the rest of him, no doubt from steroid abuse. He stood with his hip cocked, blustering and preening for a group of like-minded clingons who were laughing at his braggadocio.

Bully. Trash. Free assassin too incompetent in his trade to pay his own bills.

In short, he wasn't worth the cost of a blaster charge to eliminate him from the master gene pool. Lucky day for him because in the past, Adron wouldn't have hesitated to perform that public service.

Adron knocked back his drink with one gulp, then poured himself another. “You have three seconds to evaporate or I'm going to spray your brain matter all over your crew behind you.”

The man laughed, then sneered at Adron's black silver-tipped cane resting against the table. “You're a pathetic cripple. What can you do besides get drunk and glower? I'm surprised they even let something like you in here with the rest of us.” He turned to his friends. “Help me, guys. Help me. You have to protect me from the drunken waste. I'm so scared. Please don't hurt me,” he mocked. “Look, I'm crying like the little bitch I raped last night.”

Adron's fury fled as that old familiar cold seized him. Without hesitation, he kicked the table over, knocking the man back. Even though his body screamed out in agony at his movements, he rose, yanked one of the blasters from the bastard's belt, and aimed it between his eyes.

One shot. One kill.

That was the assassin's creed, and true to his promise he dispatched one more piece of vermin out of this plane of existence.

Too bad he hadn't done it one day sooner before the trash had found his last victim.

Screams erupted as several patrons ducked for cover or ran for the door. Others merely looked on in curiosity at the blood splatter. Typical
Crona
behavior.

Adron chucked the blaster at the man's body, then calmly retook his seat and adjusted his coat around him.

Edsel, the owner, who was a man in his late twenties, came forward with a heavy sigh as he looked over the body. He picked up the cane from the floor and handed it to Adron. “I would ask what happened, but I've got a pretty good idea.” He returned the table to its previous position. “How anyone with even a single brain cell can mess with you is beyond me. Not like you don't telegraph to the world that you're only one step this side of crazy—looking for someone to kill and alleviate your boredom.” He glanced back at the body. “Then again, he has no brains at all . . . now. Impressive shot, by the way.”

Adron held out his card but didn't speak. He didn't like wasting breath, and Edsel knew the card meant he'd cover all damages and buy drinks for anyone disgruntled over the bloodshed. Not to mention the small fact that it seriously hurt to speak. So he'd learned to keep his comments to the bare minimum when dealing with people.

Edsel took the card and kept bitching. “Thanks.” He held the card up between his thumb and forefinger. “This is the only reason why I still let you in here—'cause you always make good on the messes you make, unlike the other drunken bums. Though why every few times you're in here some asshole has to challenge you, I'll never understand. Stupid dregs. If they can't tell you're lethal, they're too dumb to live. Hell, I consider this a public service. You probably do, too.” Edsel stepped back as a waitress brought another bottle of Tondarion Fire and set it down in front of Adron.

Edsel motioned to the patrons who were staring at them. “Go on, everyone. Just a little misunderstanding. The fire-works are over. You're all safe now.” Then added under his breath, “As long as you don't screw with a pissed-off assassin. Morons.”

He motioned for his security to come over. “Guys, get this cleaned up. I don't want to see it, and I know no one else does either.” Then louder, he spoke to the crowd again. “Free drinks for anyone who has brain matter on their body or clothes. Sorry for the frayed nerves and inconvenience. What can I say? This is an exciting place.”

Edsel shook his head as he turned to Adron. “I'd ask if you have a permit for that killing, but I don't want to be laying next to him on the floor. Don't worry. Any authorities come in, I'll tell them you ran for the door after the shooting.”