Fallen Rogue

Fallen Rogue

Coming December 2009 from Dorchester Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-505-52812-4
Pre-Order at Dorchester and Amazon and Barnes&Noble and Borders

Fallen Rogue by Amy RenchWhat you don’t know can kill you

Harper Kane was well on her way to an Olympic gold medal in swimming. But now she’ll never pass the doping test. Oh, it’s not steroids. She doesn’t know what exactly she was injected with—something so secret her brother died to protect it, something that’s suddenly given her deadly psi abilities she can’t quite control.

Special Agent Rome Lucian’s instructions are clear: Find Kane and bring her in. She’s a threat that needs to be terminated. What’s not clear is exactly who’s giving the instructions. Rome can’t trust anything anymore, and his only ally is the woman he’s been sent to kill, a woman who can cause massive devastation with only her mind.

It’s sink or swim as the pair is caught in the murky waters of a dark conspiracy the depths of which they can’t even begin to fathom.

EXCERPT FROM FALLEN ROGUE

Harper crushed Bobby’s lifeless body against her. Shock poured through her every fiber, chilling and bitter. The driving rain continued in heavy sheets and pounded against her while she just held him with disbelieving ferocity.

Her mind raced with questions she feared would never be answered and words she knew would never be spoken. Why? Why had her brother been shot? What had he done to deserve having his life taken away in such a grisly and abrupt way? Who would have done this? And what in the world did he leave for her that had cost him his life?

Time meant nothing. How long had she sat there, clutching the cold shell of her brother? Wasn’t it just minutes ago that she was annoyed with him for not picking her up and for making her walk in the drizzle?

And now? Now, he’d never pick her up again. Never hear her tease him about being late. Never…anything.

Red splotches drenched her clothing. Bobby’s blood. Harper couldn’t help releasing a guttural cry, a primal sound among the tall trees and rain. Painful and bleak.

An ominous flock of black crows suddenly scattered across the desolate sky. Their raucous calls of outrage mingled with the rolling thunder. She watched them disappear into the sinister black clouds.

The trees seemed to shroud and suffocate her. Shock turned to despair. She was truly alone.

A crack pierced the air, quickly followed by a fracturing split and a thump punching through her thick veil of anguish. Ducking next to the cab, she saw a bullet had shattered the pickup’s windshield and embedded itself into the seat only inches away from where she’d been. The cheap upholstery had a little round tear where stuffing spewed out.

She zeroed in on the area where she’d heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Thunder roared and lightning spidered across the sky, illuminating the dark rain-glazed trees. Squinting, she saw a sliver of metallic sheen.

Danger flooded her mind. She knew any sane person should be hightailing it out of there, but the impulse to run was beaten down by a ravaging anger that grabbed ahold of her gut, twisting and snaking a white-hot rage through her blood, savagely replacing the utter coldness in her core. Someone had shot her brother. Deliberately. She narrowed her eyes toward the trees where she’d seen the out-of-place glint.

Harper warily rose to gently rest Bobby’s body on the bench seat. She had started to back away when something dropped from his rigid hand and thudded to the squishy floor mat, just under the brake pedal.

A key. Attached to an otherwise bare key ring. In a daze, she picked it up to get a better look. No inscription. No markings whatsoever.

Another gunshot was followed by a slow hiss. The vehicle leaned to the left as the front tire lost its air. And then another shot, blowing the other tire, which tilted the truck forward as it rested on the flats.

Harper shoved the key into the front pocket of her jeans. She slid out of the cab, but slipped in the loose mud. Relentless torrents of rain pummeled her raw body and soul as she lay on the ground, confusion warring with anger at what was happening.

She flinched when a metallic bang hit the bed of the truck. A grenade bounced to a clanking halt against the tire. Another one followed, landing near the first.

Harper came out of her daze and started to run—away from the guns, away from the impending blast.

The explosion tossed her body through the driving rain and dropped her in the brush like a cannonball. Her bones rattled on impact. Pain. There was so much pain. Harper drifted on the fringe of consciousness while she fought the blackness trying to take hold of her. She dared to breathe in the damp air and opened her eyes to the greens of rich moss and dripping ferns. Facedown in the brush, she tasted moist earth on her lips and blood in her mouth. She ran her tongue along her lower lip, confirming the source of the copper tang.

Sickening smoke began to fill her nostrils, drowning out the lush smell of the woods. Awareness flooded her mind. Fire. The truck. Bobby.

Harper pushed herself up, ignoring the sharp agony prickling through every nerve. She stood, trying to steady herself against the stinging rain and destruction.

Her brother’s beloved truck was nothing more than a fiery metallic skeleton. Burning chunks of debris littered the surrounding area. The hammering rain kept the flames from igniting the foliage. A small harbor of light in the sea of gloom.

Sheer anguish seized her, grasping her heart and squeezing relentlessly with a crushing fist.

Harper fell to her knees, hands on her head.

Her brother was truly gone.

She hopelessly watched the rain splash into brown puddles and drain down to the muddy soil in little rivers. The heavy droplets became fierce and loud. She suddenly realized it wasn’t the rain, but bullets splattering the mud.

They’d seen her, and they weren’t going to let her get away alive.

girl holding gun