Shadowmaster. Susan Krinard
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his more-than-human strength, but he had to keep Shank in line before he encouraged others to defy his Boss.
When Shank lifted himself off the floor, groaning and swearing, Drakon was standing over him.
“You can leave now,” he said, “or stay and keep your mouth shut. But if you run and pass on information that can damage this Hold or any of the crew, I will personally hunt you down. Understand?”
Shank wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand. “I get it,” he said sullenly.
For a moment all Drakon could do was stare at the blood on Shank’s mouth. Fresh blood. So long since he’d had it. So easy to take.
So deadly to his purpose.
“Sleep,” he told the others, quickly backing away. “I’m sending most of you out tonight to finish the job. Those who don’t want to risk it and forfeit their share of the profit are free to do so.”
With many glances at the unfortunate Shank, the last of the crew filed out of the meeting room. Drakon spent a good half-hour walking aimlessly through the corridors, trying to convince himself not to go to Lark’s new quarters. He didn’t succeed.
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