Drakon — S.M. Stirling

NOW IT'S OUT TURN...

THE COP: Detective-Lieutenant Henry Carmaggio had seen plenty of blood, both in Cambodia, and in twenty years of police work. He'd never seen anything like the Warehouse Massacre.

That was just the beginning. Something was loose in his city, something inhuman that walked among us, killing with the easy precision of a leopard in a flock of sheep. There was no one else to track it down. And if he didn't it would kill and kill again--until the whole world was its hunting ground.

THE DRAKA: Gwendolyn Ingolfsson had been too close to the molehole experiment when it went wrong and hurled her into a parallel Earth filled with billions of antique humans. As a member of the Draka Master Race, genetically engineered to dominate unmodified humans, her duty was clear: call home. Build a molehole device in this universe and establish a bridgehead for the Race to come through. It had been a while since the Draka had an opportunity for conquest. Bring through a couple of orbital battle stations and the locals would be . . . what was that expression she'd read? ah, yes.

Toast.