City of Demons - Debbie Cassidy

SAVE OFFLINE

CO NTENTS

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Other books by Debbie Cassidy About the Author

Copyright © 2018, Debbie Cassidy All Rights Reserved This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Cover by Vanessa Garkova

1

W

ord of advice: if a shady-looking bloke comes into your place of business and offers you enough money to buy that thousand-dollar dustkicker you’ve been eyeing up for weeks in exchange for a quick trip into dragon territory, you say no. Hell, no. I opened my mouth to utter those very words, but the shady dude cut me off with a raised hand and a set of apologetic eyebrows. “Please, hear me out,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “I wouldn’t be here with such a huge request if the lives of children weren’t at stake.” And there it was. The dreaded hook—children. The hell, no died on my lips because there were rules—you could steal, lie, cheat, and manipulate, but you left the kids out of it. My thoughts must have penetrated my poker face because the shady

dude was staring at me all expectant-like. His patchy moustache twitched as if itching to crawl off his sneaky face. The guy had dodgy stamped all over him, and I hadn’t come this far in the investigative business by taking on dodgy jobs. But sometimes exceptions needed to be made, especially when kids were involved. I set my teacup on the desk. It was an antique, all china and fragile, and damn did tea taste good in it; wouldn’t drink my tea in anything else. “Will you do it?” the potential client asked. How could I not? “How many kids?” “Pah, you aren’t seriously considering this?” Trevor’s tiny canine body quivered with indignation. The Jack Pomeranian sat up in the second office chair where he’d been browsing our local newspaper, The Daily Vine. He fixed me with his best glare. “You have a case already, remember? You should be headed out to deal with the tip-off we just received. Besides, he smells off. Tell him to leave.” My canine advisor was right. A call had come through less than thirty seconds before this shady guy had walked into the office. The creature I’d been attempting to track for the last two days had been spotted in central Southside Cemetery. The Other had killed three nephs in the past two weeks. I needed to get out there now, and yeah, this guy was setting off all the alarm bells, but if there were

kids involved… “Let me deal with this, Trev.” I kept my gaze on our potential client. “Pah!” Trevor slapped a paw on the newspaper in annoyance. He hated it when I ignored his advice, which wasn’t often. In his former life, before the curse, he’d been a private investigator, totally old school noir movie style, and now he worked reception at Bastion Investigations. Step up if you ask me, not that Trev saw it that way. The man took a step forward, his hands clasped before him as if in supplication. “I can pay you five hundred now and five hundred on extraction. Please.” He did sound desperate. Trevor is right, a voice whispered in my ear. There is something off. Look at him, really look. Push him and see. Gilbert Smyth, my trustee resident ghost and the best tea brewer in Arcana City, patted my shoulder encouragingly. He’d come with the building, my very own counsel and phantom shoulder to cry on. These two were my family and their advice meant everything. Ignoring them had proven to be foolish. It was time to pop on the investigator spectacles and give the guy a deep sweep. Unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes, and unshaven face gave the impression of someone hard up. The suit went with

the whole image, probably fifty dollars off the rack, but he’d fucked up on the shoes. Those shoes were at least a grand on their own, and the gold watch strapped to his wrist was no knock-off. He was playing the poor card, the desperate card, because he’d done his research, he knew poverty was my Achilles’ heel. Word must have gotten out about the two pro bono cases I’d taken on last month. Trev and Gilbert had been on the money, and it was time to see what this guy was all about. I sat up straighter. “A grand? Nah, that’s not gonna work for me. You want me to take a walk on the dark side? You’re going to have to pay the price.” His eyes narrowed, giving his slender face a hard edge that was at odds with his whole demeanor. “How much?” Shit. How much did you charge to walk into a den of scaly, shape-shifting beasts that could tear you from limb to limb? I stared at the picture I’d taped to my wall, the beautiful leather dustkicker I’d been coveting for months, but a coat like that didn’t come cheap and savings were low. What would fill up my indulgence piggy bank? “A grand now and a grand once I get them out.” He held up his hands, palms upward, and gave me the doe eyes. “I’m a poor man, Miss Bastion. I came to you because word of your generosity has spread. I would ask that you employ that generosity

now.” A low chuckle rose up from the corner of the room where Gilbert was hovering. Our smarmy guest glanced sharply in the direction of the sound. “Hey.” I snapped my fingers. “Eyes on me.” He blinked slowly and turned his attention back to me. “I’m generous, but not to people who can afford designer shoes and gold watches.” He glanced down at his feet, his brows flicked up, and then he sighed heavily. I couldn’t help the smug smile that tugged at my lips. “Yeah, shit happens. What I want to know is what kind you’re trekking into my place of business and what the heck you really want me to retrieve, because you have to know that no sane person would head into dragon territory without an invitation or a fucking death wish. So, the question remains, who the fuck are you?” He straightened, and his weasel expression smoothed out into something less check-out-yourknicker-drawer and more price-your-antiques. “Very well, Miss Bastion, I see that we must approach this differently.” His body was swallowed by smoke and then an altogether different dude was standing in my office —tall, swimmers build, blond with eyes as blue as robin eggs. He had the kind of face you could stare at for hours.

“My name is Adam. Adam Noir.” Trevor made a choking sound. “Fucking Arcana.” My hand was already in my desk drawer, fingers closed around the talisman I should have been wearing in the office, the talisman that would protect me from Arcana magic and would have allowed me to see through his glamour. Fuck me and my complacency. A tingle ran up my arm and the final vestiges of glamour clinging to the man fell away, and if he’d been good looking before, he was stunning now. But he’d also tried to pull the wool over my eyes so, yeah, points off for that. He stared down at me levelly. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but as you said, going into dragon territory is no easy task.” “And you hoped you could emotionally blackmail me into it by using the magic C word?” His brows snapped down. “There are children involved. I didn’t lie about that. I may have come to you in disguise, but there is a reason for that, if you’ll allow me to explain.” He was Arcana, a fucking magic wielder, and he was standing in my office with a retrieval job involving children. The Arcana didn’t come to freelancers like me. If they had a job, they went straight to The Collective and used one of their operatives. So, yeah, I was intrigued. “Why me?” I shrugged. “Why not go straight to

The Collective, and why the whole cloak-anddaggers shit?” His perfect lips tightened. “Believe me, Miss Bastion, if I could have involved The Collective in this, then I wouldn’t be here.” In other words, he was scraping the bottom of the barrel with me. “Wow, you really need to work on your sales pitch.” He had the grace to wince. “I apologize. That came out wrong.” “No. No, I think you said exactly what you were thinking.” I held up my hands. “To be honest, I don’t give a shit what you think of me. What I do want to know is why you’re here.” He exhaled through his nose. “Because this isn’t something the Arcana will care about and it’s not something I can go to The Collective with.” “This isn’t some fucking soap opera where you need to draw out the scene to give the climax more impact. Just fast forward to the damn point.” His jaw tensed. “The children that were taken are neph orphans living on the Southside. Their orphanage was invited into Draconi territory on an educational trip.” Everyone in Arcana City was a neph aside from the Draconi, the Shedim—demon like creatures— who served them, and the host of mysterious Others who’d snuck into our world when the breach had occurred. As neph, we all carried a

smidge of Black Wing blood in our veins, or so legend said. It’s what made us different, what divided us from humanity. The Black Wings had been divine beings who’d fallen from God’s grace, or so the stories said, but hell if anyone knew the truth of the matter or where the heck they were hiding now. What we did know was that to live in Draconi territory you needed to work for the dragons, and the next generation was always welcome for a visit. I’d heard their territory was pretty awesome to look at. Slipping the talisman into my pocket, I made a steeple of my fingers. “Yeah, the Draconi like to invite the next generation of workers to their part of the city from time to time, dazzle them with the joys of living dragon-style .... Buuut it’s usually high-profile schools, not a Southside orphanage. The Draconi want only the best for their industrial endeavors.” “Exactly. The orphanage is still empty; they never returned from their trip.” “Fuckers,” Trevor said. “Fucking cold-blooded killers. They’re at it again, aren’t they?” He was referring to the dragons’ penchant for neph flesh and the rumors of the black market trade having picked back up again. Missing persons reports had been on the rise for months now, but only on the Southside where law enforcement was

weak and poverty had a grip that made people invisible. The Treaty the Arcana had strong-armed the Draconi into signing specifically forbade the dragons from feeding off any neph. It forbade them from crossing the border from Westside into the rest of Arcana City with permits. But when had that stopped the scaly fuckers from doing what they wanted? And neph kids were a delicacy to them. It was a viable theory, all right. And this Adam Noir had to know it. So the bullshit about the Arcana not caring was just that, bullshit, and the fact that he was here didn’t make sense. “Why do you even give a shit about a bunch of orphan kids?” He swallowed hard. “My daughter was on that bus.” “Ah.” I snapped my mouth closed. It happened too often these days. The pure blood Arcana mingled with us lowly neph, procreating and leaving little babies behind, babies that would either have the luxury of being raised by a single parent or end up in an orphanage, because Arcana didn’t like to muddy their bloodlines. Their connection to the magic that infused Arcana City was too strong to compromise, and while some other neph could tap into it, their mixed bloodlines and hybrid natures made their relationship to the magic weaker. The Arcana Institute was a way of life, a whole fucking institution, and you could fuck

and sire to your heart’s content as long as you never brought these progeny into the fold. And did anyone complain? Nope. Because we had no choice but to bow down and be grateful to the magic wielders who’d fought the Draconi when they’d invaded our world and ripped it to shreds, creating pockets of magic across the globe. The Arcana had beat back the scaly monsters with the power of the arcane and forced them to sign a binding Treaty. They’d shackled the beast, but every day was a battle to keep it chained. And where were the humans who’d dominated this world? They’d been forced out of the magicsaturated cities while neph had been forced into them. Whereas before the breach humans had been able to live side by side with neph, afterwards the magic had changed, becoming toxic to them, mutating them and turning them into beasts before killing them all together. They’d been no choice but for them to leave, moving into pockets where magic barely breathed. The Arcana were the only humans left in the magic saturated pockets, because something in their DNA allowed them to tap into the arcane magic and wield it. Another reason they steered clear of procreating with neph—they risked diluting this gene, risked losing the magic. The mundane world still ticked on outside of the pockets, ignoring our existence, thankful that the monsters that could kill them were tucked away

behind shields of arcane magic. So, Mr Noir had a neph kid. Rule breaker, right here. “What happened to your child’s mother? “Her mother died in childbirth,” Adam said. “I wanted to keep my daughter ... I had no choice.” I snorted. “So, you pick the fucking Southside?” I turned to Trev. “Give this man a father of the year award.” Noir’s eyes sparked dangerously. “I picked the most loving home. Miss Hamilton, the woman who runs The Gables, is a wonderful woman.” My throat was suddenly dry. “The Gables?” “Wila ...” Trevor nudged me with his nose. I took a breath. “How many days has it been since they left?” “Two,” he said. “They’ve been gone for two days. It was meant to be a day trip.” “You need to bring in The Collective. If Trevor’s theory of black market dealings is correct, and it’s looking real likely right now, then it’s a violation of the Treaty. The Collective have the right to go in with guns blazing. The Arcana Institute would want to know.” He swallowed hard. “I know, but if they find out about Amber then they’ll kill her.” “What?” He sighed. “I’m a Noir, Miss Bastion.” His lips curved in a wry smile. “Ah, shit,” Trevor said. “I knew that fucking

name meant something.” “One of the three founding families,” Gilbert said from by the window. “You’re an heir, aren’t you?” Adam’s lips twisted. “Yes. And the rules for heirs are different. Our progeny must be pureblood. If not, they are put to death.” My blood pressure ratcheted up a notch. Killing children? “Hell, no. That cannot be an actual practice.” He ducked his head. “It’s not something we advertise, and not many people know about it.” He glanced at the window. “Your friend, however, seems to.” Gilbert was ominously silent. “What I’m telling you now must stay between us. I’m putting my life at risk just by being here. I would have offered you more money but all Arcana Institute funds are tracked through the Central Bank. Any large withdrawals are flagged and must be explained on audit. I can’t risk that.” But a grand would be peanuts to them; they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I’ll take the case.” His shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you. I did my research, and outside of The Collective, you’re the most trusted investigator in the city. You have a 100% retrieval rate. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Damn straight I did, which was why The

Collective had been trying to recruit me for the past six months. But there was no way I was letting them test me for the gene marker that allowed select neph to travel between pockets. Being prodded and poked wasn’t on my to-do list, and puppet strings weren’t a good look on me. Yes, it meant I was grounded, stuck in Arcana City for life, but so were ninety percent of the population. The world existed in pockets now. Cities like Arcana dotted between the mundane pockets of reality with the Arcana Institute at the helm of each one. Stepping outside of the magical borders would kill me in minutes if I didn’t have the gene marker. Best to stay put. There was plenty to be getting on with right here. I rapped my fingers on the desk. “Draconi territory is unmapped. They could be anywhere.” “The equinox celebration,” Gilbert said softly. “It’s tonight.” Noir paled. “How did you know that? It’s not common knowledge.” I looked from Noir to where I was certain Gilbert was hovering. “Okay, can someone please fill me in?” “The equinox celebration is when the Draconi gather to give offerings to their liege,” Gilbert said. “A ceremony of thanks for the liberation she provided in bringing them out of their supernatural prison and into this world.”

This was the thing about Gilbert. He seemed to know stuff about stuff that other people didn’t— another reason for my 100% retrieval record. Adam was staring at the window now, his eyes narrowed. The tickle of magic scratched at the back of my nose. He was trying to force Gilbert to appear. The air beside me shifted and Gilbert’s ghostly breath tickled my ear. “Make him stop.” I cleared my throat. “If the Draconi have the kids, then they may be taken to the equinox ceremony as an offering.” The words stuck in my throat as the implications sank in. “But you already know that, don’t you?” His shoulders sagged. “Yes. If they are offered, it will be as a private tribute. There is nothing I can do, which is why I’m here asking you for help.” “Let me get this straight. I need to say it out loud to get the full impact of exactly what you’re expecting from me.” His lips tightened, but he didn’t speak. “You want me to somehow get over the border without a pass, infiltrate the Central Keep, scope it out, and find the kids?” “Yes, Miss Bastion. That is exactly what I’m asking.” He pushed his shoulders back. “Can you do it?” “Wila ...” Trevor’s voice was saturated with warning, but this wasn’t a job I could turn down, not now that I had all the information.

“You got a map of the layout of the place?” “No.” “Ridiculous!” Trevor barked. I patted him to sooth his hackles. “I’ll do it. I’ll find them. But getting them out may be a problem.” Adam Noir blinked and refocused on me. “I’ve thought about that. You can use this to get them out.” He walked forward and placed something on the desk with a soft chink. I stared at the transponder. A flat, blue disc used by Arcana for fast travel around the city, impossible to get hold of, even on the arcane black market, and extremely powerful. “As long as you’re all touching, it will shift you all to a set of pre-inputted coordinates.” “And where is that?” “The Gables. It will take you to The Gables.” The disc was cool and smooth in my hand. “And how does this thing work?” “There’s a button in the center. You hit it three times in quick succession.” Sure enough, there was a slight indent that could be a button. The urge to press it, to check, was almost too much. “Don’t.” He laid a hand over mine, sending electricity zinging up my arm. I yanked my hand away. “Whoa. No touchy.” His baby blues sparked again, as if set off by the physical contact. He blinked, killing the sparks.

“I apologize. But you mustn’t press the button until you’re ready for transport.” A quick glance out the window showed a midafternoon sun. “Go home, Mr. Noir. And let me do my job.” “Thank you, Miss Bastion.” Adam vanished in a puff of smoke, and I slumped in my seat, heart pounding way too hard in my chest, because this whole encounter and the punch-in-the-gut details were playing havoc with my tea-deprived nerves, but that was something you didn’t show a client. Ever. Not if you wanted to instill confidence and build reputation. But if any investigator claimed they were fearless, then they were either missing the primal part of their brain responsible for keeping them alive, or they were lying. “Gilbert, can you check the archives for any information on the Central Keep?” “Of course, Wila.” It was a long shot because the Draconi were private creatures, and the territory was officially unmapped, with tales passed down orally. But our archives consisted of some of the oldest texts, another gift from my elusive benefactor. If that failed, Gilbert would ghost into the Northside Infoweb and see what he could dig up. Still. Long shot. A steaming cup of tea appeared in front of me courtesy of Gilbert. I picked it up and drained it.

The heat didn’t burn my tongue or throat, part of my neph constitution, whatever that was, because who the fuck knew what I was. The caffeine would hit en route to my next stop. But now, it was time to gear up.

“THIS IS A DEATH MISSION ,” Trevor said, following me up the steps as I jogged up to the third floor of our quaint and sometimes creepy residence. The building had come into my possession five years ago, around the same time that my official stay at The Gables was coming to an end. I’d been a doorstep baby, left in a basket in the dead of winter. Fucking miracle I survived overnight until matron found me in the morning. Most children in the orphanage made up stories about their parents, about the reasons why they’d been abandoned, and fantasized about how their parents would return one day to reclaim them. Me? I just plotted ways of making mine pay for abandoning me. For not having the common decency to hand me over to Matron personally, for being careless enough to have a child they didn’t want. At eighteen, when it had been time to move out and give my room to another kid in need, the documents had landed on our doorstep like a godsend—some inheritance

from a relative who hadn’t wanted anything to do with me while they’d been alive. The law firm had been unable to provide any details about my benefactor due to a privacy clause in the will. My benefactor left me a house, but it would have been nice if he’d left me a family name, a legacy, some idea of who the fuck I was. Not knowing was like a thorn in my side. So, here I was—owner of four stories of mostly empty, dusty rooms. The ground floor was office space, a waiting room, and a tiny kitchenette. The second story was Gilbert’s domain, a library, and a study where Trevor chose to lay his canine head. Third floor was mine, and the fourth we’d left unused. Decorating wasn’t my forte, and the place was all burgundy rugs, old antique furniture, and creepy paintings of dead people. We stopped outside the room I called home. “Wila, stop ignoring me,” Trevor whined. “Did you hear me? Death. Mission.” “I heard you, Puppy, but hunting a five-foot hound in a cemetery isn’t exactly a walk in the park either.” “Don’t call me Puppy, and you know that infiltrating Draconi territory without an invite is like waving your bloody knickers in the air for them to scent.” “You’re gross, you know that?” He snorted. “You know it’s true.”

Hand on doorknob, I looked down on him with a smirk. “You want to come in?” He took a hasty step back. “I’ll wait here.” He let out a very human-sounding sniff. “Are you sure?” I sing-songed. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Shove it, Bastion. You know I can’t stand it in there. You’re a sick dame, you know that. Real sick.” He looked me up and down. “To look at you, you would never think ...” Rolling my eyes, I shouldered open the door and stepped into an explosion of pink and white. Okay, so the black leather jacket and biker boots and shit were great for on-the-job. They blended into the night and hid blood stains and gore, but this was my princess haven, my detox from the shit that crawled through the streets. Two wardrobes stood flush against the wall. The first was for clothes— everyday outfits and several leather and padded trousers. But it was the second one that held the prize. Yanking it open, I pulled out Killion, my trusty crossbow. Heat shot up my arm. Ooo, he was pissed. It had been a while since I’d busted him out for a job, and the runes etched into his perfect frame flared to life in admonishment. He wasn’t sentient, of course, not really, but damn if he didn’t always have my back. “Sorry about shelving you, dude. It’s been a quiet couple of weeks. You up for a little

excursion? Some hound spearing and then possibly some dragon piercing?” The runes pulsed. “Oh, goody. Cos that’s exactly where we’re gonna be headed.” Popping several armor-piercing arrows into my bolt bag, I slipped it on then flicked the switch to fold K into a pocket-sized piece. Yeah, Killion was state-of-the-fucking-art, cost-anarm-and-a-leg weaponry, and he never ever missed. Pulling my long, dark hair into a low ponytail, I shrugged my jacket on to cover the bolt bag and headed back out to where Trevor waited. His tiny body vibrated with agitation. “This is a suicide mission,” he pointed out for the third time. “Maybe, but it’s not one I can turn down.” “Dammit, Bastion, be smart. I get it, you have a thing for saving kids, but this is dragon territory— too many unknown variables, too much that could go wrong. Stick to the hound job and come home for supper.” He cocked his head. “Gilbert’s making jam roly-poly.” My stomach grumbled. “God, you’re evil, you know that.” His eyes lit up in triumph, but he didn’t know the truth, because it wasn’t something that we’d ever talked about in detail. “Those kids have no one else to look out for them, Trev, No one is going to go looking for a

bunch of orphans. I’m all they’ve got. But this isn’t just about the kids, it’s about The Gables. It’s about the only home I ever knew. It’s about the woman who was like a mother to me.” Trevor’s nose twitched. “That’s the orphanage you grew up in?” “Yeah, and there is no way I’m letting those scaly fuckers get their teeth into my matron.” He snapped his jaws shut and twitched his nose. “I’ll bag the hound first, okay. Look, tell Gilbert I’ll call in a bit to see if he found anything on the Keep. If he does, he can scan it and upload it to the catseye.” “Be careful, Wila.” Yeah, it was dangerous, like certain-death dangerous, because if I was discovered, they’d be within their rights to skin me alive and serve me up as an aperitif. What I needed was a dose of luck, and lucky for me, I knew just where to get one.

2

L

ower Eastside Arcana City was the place to go if looking to trade goods or pick up a black market magical item. It was also the home of my longtime associate Barnaby Winkle, an empath with a strong affinity for the magic that surrounded us, not Arcana level but still pretty impressive. Killion was one of his finest creations, and the runes had been his little piece de résistance. They’d personalized my weapon, making it work only for me, turning it into an extension of me. Yeah, Barnaby was my go-to guy for magical defense, but his client list was small and intimate, consisting of people like me who worked outside of the Arcana Institute influence—freelance investigators looking to load up before a job. For everyone else, Barnaby was just an old dude running an antique store. Except this antique store

was tucked away down a narrow alley where only those who knew where to look would find it. Navigating the heaving, rain-slicked streets was always an exercise in vigilance. Lower Eastside was a den of pickpockets and slitters—neph who’d cut your throat and grab your goods before you could blink—a far cry from the Northern part of the city, home to the pure blood Arcana, where tall glass buildings and neatly trimmed gardens were the norm. Hood up to protect from the worst of the downpour, I dodged and sidestepped, maintaining my personal space to avoid any deliberate bumps and brushes with other bodies. My senses were on high alert, on the lookout for any Others that may have found their way into Arcana City. There was a small bounty for every one brought in to the Other Immigration Office, and once they were at the OIO, they’d be processed, quarantined, and then integrated into society. So far, I’d only come up against the kill-on-sight Others, the monsters that couldn’t be reasoned with. Gilbert had spent the last four years cataloguing my finds, making notes and sketches of the creatures that had spilled out of the supernatural prison realm where the Draconi and Shedim had been held until something had ripped a hole in reality and allowed them into our world. The alley was up ahead, just after the Chinese

food place and before the boot repair shop. The spicy smell of black bean sauce tickled my nostrils, and then a sharp left placed me between the walls of the alley. My pace quickened, eating up the distance between me and the entrance to the store before my claustrophobia could get the jump on me. The doorbell jingled, announcing my arrival. The smell of freshly baked scones filled the air, but there was no baking being done here; this was the smell of Barnaby’s magic, his signature scent that those of us who knew him for what he was had come to recognize. Shelves of books and ornaments and strange objects lined the store. I’d spent ages in this very room. It’s where I’d found my very own special teacup. But tonight wasn’t about browsing. “Yo, Barnaby!” “Hello, Wila,” a voice said directly into my ear. I jumped, hand on heart. “Fucking hell, walk into a room, why don’t you? Do you need to do the whole teleporting thing?” “Only for you, my dear. It does tickle me so to see you flustered.” He smiled, showcasing even, white teeth. He’d been handsome once, was still handsome in a regal, old way. I snorted. “Yeah, well, I guess you need to get your kicks somehow when you’re over halfway to the grave.” Okay, so he wasn’t that old, but still.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling warmly. “Ah, an ageist comeback, how perfectly trite.” He walked away and then jerked his head in a come-along gesture. “Let’s talk out back, shall we?” The back of the store was a wall with an archway design built into it, visible only if you really looked for it. Barnaby glanced over his shoulder with a wicked gleam in his eye that lifted the veil of age and gave him an air of mischievous youth, and then he stepped through the wall. God, I hated this part. Yeah, it was magic, my brain knew that, but my body rebelled every fucking time. Deep breath, Bastion, and go. Three quick steps, a tingle that teased gooseflesh across my skin, and it was over. Barnaby stood in the center of his chamber of secrets, arms out in a welcome gesture. “So, what can I do for you this fine evening, Miss Bastion?” Of course, it was Miss Bastion now that we were about to do business. In this room, we were no longer friends, we were customer and seller. In this room, filled with bottles and vials, books and trinkets that could make you grow or shrink or dance the bloody fandango like a pro, there was only Mr. Winkle and Miss Bastion. Yeah, I’d play along, because he had the goods I needed, and damn he was good at what he did. “Luck, Mr. Winkle. I need a dose of luck.” He made an ‘o’ with his mouth. “Well now,

Miss Bastion, you know that particular potion takes time to brew. Three days, to be precise, and some very expensive ingredients to boot. You know the risks ...” I grinned. “Yeah, I know. And I also know you keep a stockpile of it, so let’s cut to the chase and do some business.” His eyes narrowed. “Yes. Yes, I do, but the Bastion I know has never needed luck. She makes her own, always has done.” My scalp prickled, because he was right. Luck had never been an issue for me before, but then I’d never planned to infiltrate the most dangerous place in Arcana City. “Let’s just say this time a little assurance would be nice.” He sighed and tucked in his chin. “I can sense your fear.” Ah, shit. “Hey. We discussed this. You don’t use your empath ability on me and there’s no need for me to use my fist on your face.” “I’m not trying to read you, but your fear and your doubt are too strong to ignore.” Oh, great. I smelled of wuss. “Ignore it. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” “What’s the case you’re working on, Wila?” He’d taken us straight back to friends-mode by using my first name. It was a cheap shot but a welcome one, because damn, did I need to talk about this. “I’m headed into Draconi territory to

find a bunch of missing orphans.” His eyes widened. “I knew it!” “What? How?” “The Gables, isn’t it? The Ivy has been buzzing with talk. They went into Draconi territory two days ago and never returned. An acquaintance of mine even went so far as to go up to border control and check with them only to be told no bus had come through. There’s no record of the trip. None.” The Ivy had hold of this? The underground newspaper reserved for the plebs had been running for over a decade now despite the Arcana Institute’s strenuous attempts to root out the nephs responsible for it and put an end to the publication. The Ivy told the truth stripped bare of propaganda and false assurances, and in a climate where compliance was everything, the Arcana couldn’t afford to lose control of the information that was cascaded down to the public. The media was their weapon, and the Ivy was a thorn in their side. But if the Ivy was reporting this, then Adam Noir’s theory that the children had been taken by a black-market organization to be sold off as food was no longer a theory, which meant time was running out for the children and Miss Hamilton. “You can’t be serious about going after them?” Barnaby said. “I’m not afraid of the Draconi.” I could do confident with the best of them.

He exhaled through his nose. “It’s not the Draconi you need to worry about. They’ll stay in their Keeps. It’s the Shedim that you need to watch for.” “The Draconi’s watchdogs?” “Oh, they’re more than that,” Barnaby said. “The Shedim are powerful, strong, and their appetites for the flesh are of a different kind.” Wait. Was he talking about ... “Sex? They like to have sex?” He cleared his throat. “Or so I’ve heard. But it’s complicated. They have their own rituals and rules and goodness knows what. What I do know is that if they find you, they may decide to keep hold of you, and I don’t know what would be worse, death by Draconi or death by Shedim.” His eyes flared and then he strode toward the back of the room and returned with a tiny notebook. He flipped through it and then pressed his lips together. “It’s the equinox.” He looked up, locking gazes with me. “Wila, the Shedim will be out in force tonight. The streets will be crawling with them as they patrol to ensure order. All the Others will be crawling out of the woodwork to pay fealty to the Dragon liege. The Central Keep will be a hub of activity.” “Well, thanks for that. I feel much less nervous now.” His brows snapped down. “This is no joke, Wila. Do you have a plan?”

“The plan is to get into the Central Keep, find the kids—who will probably be gifted to the liege— and get the fuck out. Simple.” Then why the heck were my knees quivering? “How are you going to get past the border without an official invite? How are you even going to get out?” I arched a brow. “I was hoping for a stroke of luck.” He snorted and shook his head. “I have a twofor-one special on this week.” I blinked at him. “What?” “Two for one. Two vials of luck for the price of one.” Like hell he did. He was doing this to help me out because he thought I was going to need all the luck I could get, and damn if that didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. “What do you say, Miss Bastion?” We were back to business, then. “I say it must be my lucky day.” He chuckled and headed for the back of the chamber, vanishing behind a freestanding unit draped with what looked like a rug. The urge to lift a corner and take a peek washed over me, but experience rooted me to the spot. Barnaby didn’t like you touching his shit, not in here, and not without permission. He reappeared, clutching two small vials filled

with amber liquid between index finger and thumb. “They take a half hour to kick in and last for maybe three hours max. You have six hours of luck there, Miss Bastion. Use that time wisely.” He handed the vials over. I pocketed them and then rolled up my sleeve, because it was time to pay. There was no cash exchange here, and every client paid in a different manner. For me, it was in blood. My blood. Barnaby pulled a syringe and empty vial from his pocket and then filled it with my blood. It was over fast and he pocketed the vial of blood. What the heck did he do with it? No idea. And asking wasn’t an option—that was part of the deal, part of the exclusive club thing. But it bugged me to no end. I gave him a two-fingered salute and headed for the wall. “Wila,” he said softly. I paused and glanced back at him. “You’re one of my favorite clients. Make sure you come back.”

3

T

he sky was orange by the time I made it out of the alley and back onto the main street. There was no plan now, only winging it, which, to be honest, was my usual MO and had served me fine in the past. I thought better on the fly, armed with information but no solid strategy. Gauge the situation and react accordingly was my motto, and it worked wonders because in Arcana City predictable was an alien word. Predictable got you killed. I’d parked my ride outside the local tavern, The Hunter and the Prey, owned by the Stephenson twins. The guys were both massive, like serious muscle, but then they did have troll blood running in their veins. Their family tree traced back to the first troll neph created by the union of Black Wing and human. Every supernatural creature was a

neph, some more powerful than others. They all had the sacred blood running through their veins. The Stephenson twins were pretty powerful—not only in strength but in connections—when it came to the pleb community. They represented the underdogs at the city-mandated and totally for show council meetings where Eastside, Southside, and Northside came together to talk about what was best for Arcana City. Westside wasn’t invited, because Westside was Draconi territory. So, yeah, the Stephensons got shit done. They had a voice, and lucky for me, they had a soft spot for yours truly, which meant that no one messed with my shit when it was left on their property. My Mini car waited patiently, its black and silver chrome body winking in the dying sun. The door to the tavern slammed open just as I unlocked the Mini, and Taylem ducked through the doorway. His broad face broke into a grin at the sight of me. “Bastion, where you sneaking off to? You need to come in for a drink or two or maybe three.” I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. These guys were a blast to hang with, and many a night had been passed inside these walls, many a tale told, many a pint glugged, and many a hangover breakfast cooked, courtesy of Mack, the younger twin. Any other time and I’d have been through those

doors in a heartbeat. “Not tonight, Taylem. I got a job.” His brow crinkled sympathetically. “You coming by later?” “You gonna make me one of your special cocktails?” He grinned, flashing strong, white teeth. “I’ll even let you snuggle.” His tone dropped suggestively. My neck heated. Yeah, that one time had been hot, but there was no going there again, not unless I was serious about a relationship. Taylem’s kind were always looking for a mate for life, and shacking up with one more than a handful of times was like asking them to marry you. The fact he’d slept with me was a serious indicator that he considered me mate material, but no matter how good the sex had been, it could never be more than that to me. Sex. Great, mind-blowing, go-all-night sex. Oh, man. No. Stop it. Don’t think about— I cleared my throat. “Cocktails will have to be enough.” I winked to soften the rejection. “You tell Mack I said hi.” His sparkle dimmed, and his expression sobered. “You stay safe, you hear.” “Will do, big guy.” And I meant big. Something twisted in my chest, knowing that I’d probably hurt his feelings. The big dudes could knock you to the ground with a punch, but they

were softies when it came to matters of the heart. “See you later, Wila.” He raised a hand in farewell but didn’t make a move to go back inside. Instead, he watched me start up the engine, back up the car, and drive off, his large frame a rapidly shrinking dot in my rear-view mirror. Taylem have been the one to help train me to hold my own in a fight, teaching me to fight dirty to survive. My five foot three frame and speed meant I could throw punches and get in and out fast against a larger, slower, opponent, but it also meant that if I got pinned I was in trouble. He’d taught me to make the right calls and if possible to run. We’d become close friends, and what had I gone and done? I’d gone and slept with him. Man, I sucked. Should have kept my knickers on. Friends with benefits does not work with a troll. Friends with huge benefits does not work with a troll. It would have to be my new mantra.

THE CEMETERY WAS old and overgrown. Tombstones covered in ivy and moss, broken and battered, littered the landscape. The place was a beautiful ruin—a human place for humans to put their loved ones to rest, except there were no humans to mourn anymore. No one to tend to the stones and the

flora. No one to care. This was a forgotten space for many, but a wonderland for the local neph kids —a place to hang out and get up to mischief, until the recent spate of murders, of course. Stealth was the key, stealth and vigilance, because the hound was here, the prickle up my spine and the itch in my brain told me so. A slab of rock lay in my path, the words etched onto it weathered and illegible; stepping over it seemed disrespectful somehow. Skirting it, I approached the large structure looming up ahead—a beautiful mausoleum made of carved stone. One heavy door was gone, the other hung off its hinges. The darkness beyond shifted, and my body went into freeze mode. Bladder control is a must for the hunting side of the investigative business, especially when tracking an Other, but right now, staring into the blazing orange eyes of a two-headed hound the size of a small car with nothing but a crossbow as defense, my bladder threw up its hands, ready to surrender. The atmosphere wasn’t helping. Why was it that cemeteries always felt creepy, even in daylight? And was there someone hiding amongst the tombstones with a bloody smoke machine? The Other stepped out of the mausoleum entrance. Had it been nesting in there? Its muzzle was caked with dried blood. Its lips peeled back to reveal powerful, yellow teeth with stuff caught in

between them—probably someone’s entrails. Oh, God. Fuck The Collective and their budget cuts. Southside got shafted every time when it came to patrols for this kind of shit. But then, this was how I made that extra cash. Except this time, I’d gotten a case of the morals and opted to do it pro bono. The last victim had been a fourteen-year-old student who’d been delivering The Daily Vine when he’d gotten munched. The hound lowered its heads, smoke pluming from its nostrils. My stomach tightened. It was about to attack and then it was running at me. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run, but I’d been doing this long enough to be able to resist the primal instinct. Swinging Killion up, I pulled back the bolt, aimed, and ... wait for it ... fired. The bolt whizzed through the air and landed between the eyes of the left head. The head dropped and the thing faltered for a split second. Down, it needed to go—Shit, it was still coming. I threw myself to the right out of its path, rolled and came up on one knee, K at the ready, because, sure enough, the hound had skidded to a halt. Another bolt snapped into place. The thing turned and made a beeline for me, one head lolling with a bolt sticking out of it, the other eager to take a bite. Hold ... whizz, thunk. The hound kept going for a second, its body

running on momentum, and then it dropped, hitting the ground with a thud that echoed throughout the silent cemetery. Dusting off my trousers, I stood and cautiously approached the beast, delivering a toe jab to its side. Not a twitch. Dead. Patting my pockets to make sure the vials were still intact, I deactivated K. Pulling out my phone, I speed dialed the OIO. They wouldn’t hunt the Other monsters down, but they’d sure come and pick up the corpses. One job down. One to go.

THE SUN MADE its final arc across the sky. Thirty minutes and I’d hit the bridge separating Arcana City from Draconi territory. It was the only way in or out of their domain, and man, was it policed heavily. There was no way in, not without an official pass or a vial of luck. And, what did you know? I had two of those beauties. Pulling over, I retrieved a vial from my pocket, popped the cap, and downed the contents. It tasted of nothing. No aftertaste, no tang, nothing. Weird. The errant thought that Barnaby had played me crossed my mind, but a quick kick in the arse soon

had that possibility running for the hills. There was no way he’d do me over. Not one of his best clients. Not with a reputation to uphold. Thirty minutes. The countdown had begun. Grabbing my mobile from the glove compartment, I dialed the office. Gilbert picked up on the third ring. “You got something for me?” “I’m transferring it now. It’s a crude handdrawn map.” “Better than nothing.” The glove compartment was still open, and I grabbed the tiny box that contained the catseye, a nifty piece of Northside tech almost impossible to come by in the Eastside and a gift to me from a satisfied customer with money to spare. The tech itself was innocuouslooking but extremely powerful. A contact lens popped into the eye and could pick up wireless data transmitted to it using a specific code. “Just put it in,” Trevor said down the line. “Give me a second.” God, how I hated this bit. It was the whole having to touch your eye thing. Urgh. Using the rear-view mirror, I managed to get the damn thing in on the third try. It pinched and then settled. Data began to scroll across my eye and then a map popped up. More of a pencil on paper scrawl really. Several rooms and doorways were marked but there was no actual indication of scale or size.

“I’m sorry, Wila,” Gilbert said. “It was all I could find.” “That’s fine, Gilbert. This is great.” “No, it’s pathetic,” Trevor huffed. “You can’t go in on such little information. We need to assess and formulate a plan and then execute and—” “I promise to come home in one piece, Trev. Save me some dessert.” A long, drawn-out silence. “Yes, well, you better. You have a curse to cure.” If Trevor could say “I love you” this would be it. We’d searched hard for a cure for him for a year, and even though it was never said, we’d all kind of come to the conclusion that there was none. My detective friend would be a canine forevermore, and even though he’d deny it until he was blue in his cute little pointy face, he’d developed many of the characteristics of the form he was trapped in. Loyalty and the urge to protect his master were two of them—his master, who he now thought of as me. “I love you too, Trev.” “Harumph.” A rustle cut him off as Gilbert took back the phone. “I’ll give him a treat. He’ll be fine. Just ... come back to us.” My throat tightened. “You know it.” Ending the call and slinging the phone back onto the passenger seat, I started the engine. A hard blink and the data cut off. A rapid blink would

activate it again. As I peeled away from the curb, the sky went from orange to red to black, and the moon swung up into the sky, jaunty and gay. Hell, yeah. Nighttime was the domain of the monsters, and the moon was a voyeur. The rain was falling in sheets now, and beyond the swish of the wipers on my windscreen, the city was a blur of twinkling lights. Beautiful if you ignored the creepy shit that lurked in the shadows. And this city was built for shadows. Others would come out to play now. Creatures we had no names for, creatures with strange hungers born of another world. Thank goodness most neph were able to take care of themselves. Our supernatural ancestry gave us an advantage. The sirens and the incubi, the Sanguinata and the Lupin, they were able to defend themselves to some degree, but the average psychic or clairvoyant—the middling arcane wielders— were easy pickings. And me? I had my skills— speed, agility, wit, and a lightning-fast tongue when it came to spinning a lie, not to mention some of the best contacts in the city to keep me in the business of taking down monster Others. Okay, so that was a side gig, a pro bono thing, one that sometimes paid in baked goods. But if us freelancers didn’t keep the streets clean, then the city would be crawling with Others in days. It was tempting to let it get to that stage, force the Arcana Institute to actually get off their power suit arses and do something, but it

would be the plebs that suffered in the meantime. The powers that be knew we’d pick up the slack. The status quo was established. The bridge came into view, lined with vehicles. Shit, what the heck? No one used it unless actually headed to Draconi territory, which meant all these people ... shit. The equinox celebration ... could they all be here for that? Damn the rain, it made it impossible to scope out all the vehicles. Limousines, vans, several fancy-looking cars. What the heck was this? Adam Noir hadn’t mentioned it was this big a deal, that outsiders would be invited too. Okay, think. The good thing about this situation was cover, plenty of it. Maybe I could slip in while the guards were distracted with checking out another car? It would be lucky ... Tick tock. The dashboard clock winked tauntingly at me. Thirty minutes were up, and nothing. No fizz in the blood, no tingle across the skin. Barnaby, what the hell? It was time to get onto the bridge or turn left and keep driving. Dammit. I rolled onto the bridge behind a white van with a pretty flower pattern etched onto the back. The cars were moving, slow and steady in two lanes. Where the heck was this luck? And then, with a soft choking sound, my engine died. What? No. The key turned in the ignition but

there was no sound. Not a peep. The curses that wanted to spill from my lips would have made a leprechaun blush. Barnaby, the fucking tosser. He’d done me over. No idea why. No idea if it was on purpose. Maybe he’d picked up the wrong vials? Either way, his nose was going to be visiting my fist very soon. The line in front of me began to move and horns behind me began to beep. Fuck this. I climbed out and slammed the door. Rain smashed into me, and my hair was plastered to my head in seconds. “Broken down here!” I waved at the cars, urging them to go around me. Fuck, it was cold. “Around! Around!” The rainfall drowned out my words, but seriously, could they not decipher the sign language? Okay, maybe giving them the finger wasn’t helping, but a girl needed to vent somehow. “Hey? You need a ride?” A male voice cut through the downpour like a beacon of hope. A limo had come to a standstill in the lane next to mine. The door was open and a man was hanging out of the passenger side door, bottle of amber liquid clutched in his hand and a fucked-out-of-hishead grin on his face. His hair, which had probably been expertly styled a moment ago, was now plastered to his head and water dripped off the clean lines of his inebriated face, but he didn’t seem to give a shit. Alcohol would have that effect

on a person. It would impair their judgement, cause them to pick up strange women toting dangerous weapons ... “You wanna ride to the party, pretty, leatherclad woman?” he asked. Yeah, it looked like my luck had just changed.

THE INTERIOR of the limo was warm and smelled of leather and cinnamon. And this close up, the guy was huge. Not troll huge but big. His slacks strained across his thighs, which were parted in the relaxed, let-it-all-hang-loose, slumped-in-his-seat posture. His jacket was thrown across the seat opposite me, and his feet were bare. He had nice feet. “You got a thing for feet?” he asked before taking a glug from his bottle. “You got a thing against shoes?” The words just fell out unchecked. “Yes. Awful, constricting things.” He glugged from the bottle again, tipping his head back to expose the masculine column of his throat and the manly Adam’s apple which bobbed with every swallow. A new scent hit me—almonds and something else; it teased a memory at the back of my mind. “You know it’s black tie and ball gowns, right?” His lips curled almost mockingly, but his

eyes remained hooded and shrouded in shadow. He ran a hand through his wet, chestnut colored hair. “Have you made a vow of silence or something?” “Just wondering if you’re in the habit of picking up strange women.” Now why the heck would I say that? “No. You’re the strangest one to date.” He took another swig of his drink. “I’m wondering if you’re in the habit of getting into strange men’s limousines.” I gave him a close-lipped smile. “Only when they offer to take me to a party.” He chuckled. “These affairs are always much more fun with a damsel on your arm.” Why did speaking to him feel like playing with fire? “Trust me, I’m no damsel.” “I’m sure you’re not. Not with the arsenal you’re carrying.” Shit. That was why. I plastered my most innocent expression on my face. “Sorry?” “The bolts and the crossbow.” He sniffed. “Daggers ... Maybe two?” He winked and offered me a sloppy smile. Shit, shit, shit. “Excuse me if I refuse to wander into Draconi territory unarmed.” He snorted. “Fat lot of good they’ll do you. If a Draconi wants you dead, you’ll be dead. Should have worn the pretty ball gown.” He leaned his head back and belched.

The smell hit me again. Almonds and pistachios, and my stomach turned in recognition. There was only one thing that smelled like that, and there was only one creature who could consume it without burning its insides to embers. I swallowed hard. “Is that ... Are you drinking Dragon Tears?” He tucked in his chin, and the shadows shifted, revealing his eyes—vertically elongated pupils set against dazzling electric-blue irises. My breath stalled, and my pulse began to hammer. There was no need for him to answer. His eyes had done that for him. He blinked, slow and predatory, and for a moment, the inebriation lifted and his expression was cold and calculated, but then he grinned that too-wide grin of the drunken fool. “Relax. I’ve already eaten. Besides, you smell odd.” I was sitting in a limo with a fucking dragon, a tear-the-flesh-from-your-bones and burn-you-intocrispy-oblivion dragon, and instead of bone-melting fear, offense warred with relief, and my tongue, my errant doesn’t-know-when-to-shut-the-heck-up tongue, did a thing. “What do you mean I smell odd?” Dammit, Wila, shut the fuck up. He cocked his head, inhaled, then shrugged before taking another swig of the beverage that would kill anyone who wasn’t Draconi. “Just not ...

edible.” Not edible. Yeah. That was good. I could live with that. “So, why the BDSM outfit?” he asked so casually it took a moment to register what he was saying. “Leather does not equal BDSM.” His smile was slightly lopsided now, giving him a mischievous air. “It is when it’s that tight.” He cocked his head. “Tell me, do you have your clothes custom made for your uber petite, some would even call, dinky, frame?” Okay, so I like my pants fitted; they were soft leather, breathable and extremely malleable. But then to look at them, you wouldn’t be able to tell. Wait had he just called me dinky? He leaned in, his almond-intoxicated breath wafting into my face, his body heat beating against my skin. “And you have fuck-me eyes.” A wave of carnal desire shot through me and at the same time my pulse slammed in my throat, throbbing in fear and eager to be free. What the hell? But then he sat back in his seat and closed his eyes again. “Relax,” he drawled. “I’ve already fucked tonight, and unlike a number of my brethren, I don’t take what isn’t offered freely.” The wise thing to do was to keep quiet. To just take the ride, jump out once we were over the

border, and then let luck do its thing, but curiosity —the talon-wielding bitch—tore self-preservation to shreds. “So, how come you’re on this side of the border?” His eyes remained closed, and he didn’t answer straight away. I sat back in my seat, resigning myself to a silent ride and eyeballing his aquiline profile. The cars were moving at a snail’s pace. Border checks were probably extra thorough tonight. “Liaison,” he said finally, his tone lazy. “Even the mighty Draconi need to play at politics, and my liege is nothing if not a political player. I’m the lackey that gets to live Northside. The lion amongst the lambs.” His eyes opened a crack, those electric irises fixing on me through slitted lids. “Which makes me wonder why I’ve not seen you in polite society before?” Shit. Come on, silver tongue. “Northside is a big place, lots of neph. It’s not surprising we haven’t come across one another.” He studied me for a long, intense, bonenumbing beat, the kind of regard a jaguar would give its trapped prey before leisurely pouncing. The blood slowed in my veins, and my breath grew shallow as I tore my gaze away, fixing it firmly on the window. Never look a dragon in the eyes— cardinal rule number one when dealing with the

beasts—because they didn’t all feed off flesh. Some liked to feast on souls, and what did they say about the eyes? Windows to the soul and all that stuff. A low rumble filled the back of the limo. “I’m not hungry. Yet.” Oh, fuck. When was the journey going to be over? The limo ground to a halt and someone tapped on the window. It wound down and a liveried guard, way too big for his uniform, peered in. He took one look at my host and stood up straight, eyes fixed ahead. “I’m sorry, sir. I should have recognized the plates.” My host waved a hand. “Relax.” He held out the bottle. “Have something to take the edge off.” The guard blinked at the bottle. “Thank you, sir, but we aren’t permitted to drink on the job.” My host’s eyes narrowed, his whole body tightening and tensing as if ready to strike. “Are you rejecting my offer?” The guard’s throat bobbed. “No. Sir. Of course not, but the liege’s orders—” “Is the liege here now?” “No, sir.” The guard looked like he would rather be lying in the path of a bulldozer than be the object of my host’s attention. “I apologize, sir.” The dragon dude sighed and his body relaxed.

“Please, don’t shit yourself. I was only joking.” He waved the guard off. “Go do guard stuff elsewhere.” “Yes, sir.” The guard inclined his head. The window wound up and the car shot forward, and my heart was in my mouth because who the heck was this guy to demand such reverence and fear. My lips twitched, wanting to ask the question, but this time self-preservation won. If he was some high up Draconi, and if I was meant to be important enough to be invited to this equinox celebration, then I should know, right? “You have no idea who I am, do you?” His tone was light on the surface, but there was an edge which my finely tuned ears picked up on. An edge that had me sitting up straighter, alert and ready to bolt, except the limo was moving super-fast now that we were past border checks and the world outside was a dark blur of rocky terrain and distant mountains. This was the Westside, a meld of our world and their supernatural prison. There was no escape if he decided to turn on me now. Heck, who was I kidding? There’d been no escape ever since I got into the limo. I cleared my throat. “I’d be a fool not to know who you are.” It was a gamble but... “Yes. Yes, you would.” He didn’t press. Why didn’t he press? Because he was intoxicated. Thank God for luck. Shit, how

much time did I have left? An hour and a half? There was no escaping him, not until we reached our destination, which, if we were going straight to the festivities, would be the Central Keep. I’d be headed straight into the dragon’s den. He was looking at me, his gaze hot on the side of my face, and damn, did it take everything I had not to turn and look at him. “You could be my guest,” he said softly. “It could be interesting.” It wasn’t a request, at least it didn’t sound like one, which meant he was accustomed to giving orders in the guise of appeals. My scalp prickled. He suspected something was off. Even through the haze of dragon tears, he suspected. I smiled, eyes still on the landscape. “I’d be honored, of course.” “Of course.” Was that a hint of amusement in his tone? But when I slid a quick look his way, his head was tipped back and his eyes were once again closed. He was perfectly at ease, perfectly relaxed, then why the heck did I feel like I’d just buzzed straight into a Venus fly trap? The limo began to slow, and my heartbeat sped up. His lips curved in a slow smile. “And so it begins.”

4

A

rock face rose on either side of the limo, set with lights that looked like a multitude of eyes. No doubt, this was the bottleneck that led to the Central Keep. If not for the lights, this route would be pitch black because the rock walls blocked out the stars and the moon. My stomach dipped and anxiety fluttered to life in my chest. Not an enclosed space, Bastion, it’s fine, it’s totally fine. We were on an incline, and the walls around us slowly receded until there was nothing but the clear, starry sky after a storm. The knot building in my chest unraveled. We were high up, real high up, and a new kind of flutter flared to life in my stomach. How long left on my luck potion? I needed to get the heck out of this limo and away from this lethargically dangerous dragon who was playing havoc with my sixth sense.

A crack and a whoosh followed by an eerie roar filled the interior of the vehicle. My disconcertion must have been written on my face because my host chuckled low. “Not all Draconi will be arriving on four wheels.” He jerked his head toward the window. “Take a look.” The window wound down, and the noise grew louder; it sounded like the beating of wings, huge wings. Oh, God. Slipping my head out the window, I tilted it up to the starry sky, but the stars were gone, blocked out by a parade of massive, scaly beasts. Except, up there in the air, they were no longer monstrous, they were beautifully graceful, wings spread wide as they caught the air and coasted before they were forced to beat the air into submission. The cool air stole my breath, and the sight stole my mind. I’d heard tales, of course, but to see them like this was something else. They were headed to the Central Keep, then to the equinox celebration, and I was about to enter a mountain filled with beasts. I ducked back into the limo, and the window slid up. My host polished off the bottle of Dragon Tears and then retrieved a fresh bottle from a hidden compartment in the armrest of his seat. He slipped his feet into a pair of expensive-looking shoes that seemed to materialize from nowhere and then fixed

me with that disturbingly penetrating gaze of his. I broke contact by lowering my lids. “I’m not going to suck out your soul.” “I’ll take that on advisement.” A bark of laughter. “Yes, tonight should be interesting.” The interior of the limo fell into absolute darkness. “Ready to rock the leather?” Damn Adam Noir and his lack of heads up about this event. “Sure.” The car came to a smooth halt, and he leaned across me, his huge frame shedding heat and delicious aroma that enticed a mixture of desire and terror, like being pushed up against a big cat with scales. He released the catch and shoved open the door. I blinked at him. He jerked his head toward the exit. “Draconi are many things, but gentlemen aren’t one of them.” With a deep breath, I climbed out into the night air, the night air inside a fucking cave. The entrance was a roughly hewn, gaping maw behind us. More cars spilled in, parked up, and spat out guests— women in fancy ball gowns and men all suited and booted. The Draconi were easily distinguishable by their eerie eyes and much larger statures, and the rest were neph. Many of the Draconi came bearing gifts, trays laden with gems as large as my fist, silverware, and sparkly trinkets. Dragons liked the

shiny stuff. A van farther up was unloading long wooden boxes that looked like coffins. “Private tribute.” My Draconi ride appeared beside me, his body dwarfing mine. He inhaled and his pupils dilated a fraction, but then his lip curled in disgust and he shook his head. “Private tribute?” He looked down on me, as if seeing me for the first time, and it took everything I had not to lock gazes with him. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.” But as I counted the little coffins filled with air holes being unloaded onto a cart, the penny dropped and my stomach turned. The kids were in those boxes, and I needed to follow the Draconi who were rolling them away. “Um, thank you for the ride, but I should really go and find my ... friends.” God, I sounded lame. His brow arched and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Of course, if that’s what you want. They’re probably somewhere up ahead waiting to pass through the tech and weapons sensors.” Fuck! There was no way I’d get through a weapons check, and the damn coffins were getting away. A door opened on the other side of the road, and the Draconi rolled the carts through it. Dammit. Finding them meant getting inside, and right now my only hope lay with my nameless host.

I leaned in conspiratorially. “I don’t like people touching my weapons.” His almond breath tickled the top of my head. “Then maybe your friends can meet you inside.” Was he offering me an out? His arm slid around my waist, and the contact was like electricity shooting through my veins. My whole body tightened, and my breath exploded from my lungs. His bicep flexed, muscles jumping, but when I tilted my head to look up at him, he was busy swigging from his bottle of Dragon Tears. And then we were off, winding our way past the queuing guests and walking straight up to the entrance manned by two mammoth Draconi who looked more beast than man. Their thick necks and wide nostrils indicated they were in partial shift. They clutched long rods used for detection of weapons and tech. My heart crawled up into my throat because my weapons were one thing, but if they found the catseye and the transponder ... But as we approached, they stepped back and let us straight through. We breezed in, down a short lily-white corridor and straight into a ballroom out of a fucking fairytale, if fairytales took place in dragon lairs. Music played, loud enough to mask other people’s conversation, but not too loud as to make it impossible to converse. People stood about in groups, clutching fluted glasses of sparkling liquid, and servers floated from cluster to cluster offering

refills and aperitifs. It was all very ... civil and totally un-Draconi like. The whole thing sent a chill up my spine, because under the face of every Draconi there was a monster watching its prey. Every neph in this room was a potential snack, and there were many, their pulses fluttering in their throats like trapped animals. Why the heck would they have come here? A few familiar faces jumped out at me, faces from the interweb. Arcana house members, and several neph high up in political matters. Several Draconi eyes skimmed over me, taking in my attire, but they quickly dismissed me. “I thought you said my clothes would be an issue.” My escort snorted. “They would, if you weren’t with me, but you’re hanging with the black sheep. No one will expect anything much of you.” The black sheep? What was he talking about? It didn’t matter I had less than an hour of luck left and a bunch of coffins to locate, but my escort was leading me through the crowd toward a buffet table and straight at a hungry-looking group of Draconi. Every hair on my body stood to attention, and then we were surrounded. A tall, athletic female turned to face us, and a huge, toothy smile filled her face. “Valance, so good to see you.” Her tone said otherwise. So that was his name. “Pity I can’t say the same,” Valance drawled.

The female didn’t even bat an eye; instead she turned her unnerving gaze on me, and the smooth curve of her face seemed to sharpen to a razor’s edge before my eyes. “I see you haven’t shaken the habit of playing with your food.” She pouted. “Although this one doesn’t smell that appetizing.” Okay, so I wasn’t dragon bait. Good to know. “This one isn’t deaf, you know?” She ignored me, her slow blink the only indication she’d even heard me, and turned her attention back to Valance. “Did you dress her too?” she asked snidely. Valance took a swig from his Dragon Tears. “No, but you could do with some tips on fashion. That dress makes you look fat.” He said it casually, as if mentioning the weather. The woman flinched. Her companion, who’d been a silent observer up until now, took her elbow gently. “Ignore him, Esme. Sooner or later, he’ll disappoint the liege again, and then he’ll be punished and I’ll make sure we get front row seats.” He steered her away, not even bothering to excuse himself. “They don’t seem to like you very much.” “No one likes the black sheep.” He belched and a group of nearby Draconi shuffled away. Yeah, they really didn’t like him, and yet there was a spark of awe in many people’s eyes. Who was this guy, really? Aside from the Draconi liaison.

Curiosity reared its distracting head, and I stamped on it. This wasn’t a real date; this wasn’t my scene. My scene was beyond the doors at the far side of this ballroom. Somewhere in the back building, a bunch of kids and my matron were waiting to be rescued. What I needed was to get away from Valance and complete my mission. Valance slipped into the spot by the buffet table vacated by the rude Draconi. He picked up a small cake thingy and held it out to me. “You hungry?” I wasn’t, but I took it anyway because there were eyes on us, lots of eyes, and although being the center of attention hadn’t been on the menu, it was what it was, and I needed to play the part. The cake was sweet, light, and delicious. “You like?” There was a suspicious edge to his question. “Um ... sure.” His lips parted in a sadistic grin. “Dust lizard entrails,” he said. “It gives the cakes that sweet, sharp flavor.” Bile shot up my throat, and I clamped my lips closed as he let out a bark of laughter and popped a cake into his mouth. The fucker was enjoying this. I’d made his night by breaking down. Parading the inappropriately dressed, bad-smelling neph was probably giving him extra black sheep points. But the cake was a great excuse to make an escape. I clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide as

if in distress. He rolled his. “There’s a washroom that way.” He jerked his head toward the exit at the back of the ballroom. He turned away, raising a hand to hail another Draconi. Keeping to the edge of the ballroom, careful not to draw too much attention, which, considering my attire and the fact I’d been hanging with Mr. Popularity himself, wasn’t an easy task. The exit loomed, and I was almost home free when a hand snagged my elbow and yanked me behind a set of crimson drapes hanging from the wall. My hips slammed into the brickwork with a crunch. A crackle of static had my hair standing on end, but my body was already in motion, putting into practice what seemed like a lifetime of defensive maneuvers. My assailant let out a manly yelp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His tone was low, urgent, and very familiar. Shitting hell. “I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Noir.” It was dark behind the curtain, but that voice was unmistakable, and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, his hawkish features became clearer. His lips were pressed together in suppressed anger and I caught the hint of dimples in his cheeks. “I’m here in an official capacity,” he said. “Which is why I hired you to infiltrate this place and save the kids. So, imagine my horror when I

see you cavorting with Valance Drako?” My blood crystallized. “Drako? As in the fucking liege’s bloodline Drako?” “As in the fucking liege’s only son, Drako,” Adam said through gritted teeth. “Everyone in this room knows who he is and everyone’s seen you with him.” Valance was the sole heir to the Draconi throne? The inebriated guy who picked up stray women, and liked to travel barefoot, was meant to take over running this territory? No wonder everyone despised him, and I’d walked into the room on his arm. Okay, no, it was fine. Unfortunate, but didn’t change anything. “I came here to get those kids out, and that’s what I’m going to do. It hardly matters how I achieve my objective.” He made a sound of exasperation. “It matters that your face will be remembered, and when the coffins containing the liege’s private tributes are found empty, it won’t be long until someone connects the incident to the neph in the leather who strolled in on Valance Drako’s arm and then vanished into thin air.” He knew the kids were in coffins yet he was able to cavort and socialize at an event hosted by the creature who was about to consume one of his kids. It was cold and harsh and fucking dedication to the Arcana Institute.

“Let them talk. It’s not like I plan to come back, and it’s not like they can hunt me down on the other side of the border.” His grip on my arm relaxed a fraction. “The Treaty laws ...” “Yeah. No hunting outside of Draconi territory.” I grinned into the gloom, catching the flash of his baby blues. “Now, let go of me so I can do my fucking job.” He released me abruptly. “Dammit, Miss Bastion. Just ... get them out of here.” I slipped out from behind the curtain and into the corridor beyond the ballroom, blinking three times rapidly to activate the catseye. How much time did I have left on the potion? Twenty minutes, if that. Shit, time to take another vial. I patted my hip pocket and froze as my hand came away damp. No ... Oh, fuck no. The crunch as Adam Noir had pushed me up against the wall had been the damn vial breaking, which meant I had twenty minutes before I was totally screwed. It looked like the luck I’d consumed was already running out. Bravado took a leap out of the window as adrenaline did a mad dash around my system. Twenty minutes to get down this corridor and through the door at the end which would lead me into the catacombs where, if my luck-induced hunch was correct, the private tributes would be held. Twenty minutes before luck ran out.

The corridor was empty, the door unlocked, and if I’d taken a second vial of luck, my heart wouldn’t be racing like it was a ticking time bomb. Another darker, dimmer, rougher passageway lay beyond this door, and the catseye showed a network of tunnels marked unchartered. Whoever had made this map had been in an awful hurry. But there was one chamber clearly marked Hoard Room. This was it. It had to be. Taking a left at the next intersection, fingers grazing the rock face of the walls, I made my way toward this hoard room. The lighting became sparser, and the terrain became rockier and wider, enough space for a dragon to crawl through, and this place was fucking crawling with them. Terror lanced through me. How many minutes left now? Thank God it wasn’t pitch black. Thank God for the illusion of space. The panic that usually accompanied dark underground spaces stayed in control. Luck? Probably. Boots scraped earth. This was elemental now. No fancy decor, no plaster, this was earth and rock and stone. This was the real home of the beast, and I was about to steal from its precious pile of pretties. The chamber was barren except for the massive pile of goods stacked in the center. A veritable mountain of precious stones and gems the size of my head, gold coins, landscape paintings with bling for frames, and various other priceless-looking

objects, all of which had a sparkle to them. I’d heard that dragons were the magpies of huge, maneating reptiles, but this ... this was something else. But where were the coffins? My gut, fueled by my rapidly receding luck, had led me here, but what if I’d been wrong? Circling the pile, careful not to kick or displace anything, because who the heck knew how precariously loaded this pile was, I made a slow circuit of the hoard. A low whine reached my ears—sobs, and sure enough, there they were: ten neat coffins propped up against the wall, all in a row. Time was of the essence, and even though it was probably my imagination, I was certain that a tingle ran across my body, a sign that the effects of the potion were wearing off. Ridiculous, right? Because there’d been no physiological symptoms of it having even taken effect. Time to get the children out. Working fast, I unlocked the largest coffin first. The lock was simple, just a catch on the outside. It didn’t help the occupant, though. Miss Hamilton spilled out and hit the dirt with her knees. She fell forward to brace herself on her palms. Her body heaved, gasping for breath, and then she went completely still. Oh shit, she thought I was one of them. “Matron, it’s me, Wila.” Her head whipped up, and her eyes widened in recognition. “Wila? Oh, God!” She was on her feet

in an instant, and I was crushed to her bosom in the next. “You came for us? You found out and you came.” “Yeah. I did.” She pulled back and wiped at her face. “The children, they drugged the children.” Thank God I had the transponder. “It’s okay, let’s get them all out and lay them in a pile. I have a transponder.” As long as everyone was touching when the transport disc was operated, we’d be okay. She nodded vigorously. “Yes.” We worked fast, unlatching coffin after coffin and pulling the tiny bodies from their prisons. Which child belonged to Adam Noir? It didn’t matter. What mattered was getting the heck out of here. With the bodies now laid together on the ground, I pulled out the disc. It was time to get the heck out of here. The disc took a minute to power up, at least that’s what Noir had said. I grabbed Miss Hamilton’s hand. “Place your hand on one of the kids.” She did. “—came this way. I can smell it.” The voice was guttural, beastly, and inhuman. Miss Hamilton squeezed my hand. Someone was coming, probably a Shedim sentry. My palms grew slick. I activated the disc, knowing there was no time, knowing that we didn’t have a minute. Not if I stayed.

“Take it.” I released her hand and shoved the disc into it. “I’ll come see you soon.” “Wila, no,” she whisper-hissed. But I was already running toward the entrance to the chamber, toward the Shedim, because only a distraction would save the children now, and distractions were my thing, whether pumped full of luck or not.

5

I

didn’t make it far, round the corner to be precise, before a talon-tipped hand grabbed me around the neck and slammed me into the wall. And there was my first glimpse of a live, in-your-face Shedim. Thank fuck my bladder control was spot on, because damn, things could have gotten messy. The demon, spirit, whatever it was, leaned in. Its sharp-edged face with its pointy chin, slanted, yellow glowing slits for eyes, and wide maw filled with razor-sharp teeth was too close, too intimate, as if preparing to take a bite out of my face. My stomach twisted, and my lungs squeezed tight, forcing me to take shallow breaths. “Neph.” Its voice was a rasp. “Trespasser.” I held up my hands. “Hey. I’m sorry. I was at the party, and I was looking for the washroom. I

took a wrong turn.” “Let it go, Balen,” another voice said. “But it smells of lies.” The Shedim, Balen, turned its head to address its companion who was out of sight. “Can I have it? Can I play and break it?” A long beat of silence. “If it is found guilty then you know you will have as good a chance as the rest. Now drop it and go check the chamber.” The thing slowly released me and backed up. Its lithe, powerful, humanoid body, covered only in black, loose-fitted slacks, hovered above the ground as it regarded me. Glowing white symbols floated above its skin, shifting and moving with its every breath. It bared its teeth in a hiss, and there was no stopping the yelp that fell from my lips, but then it whirled away and was gone. Matron and the kids would have escaped by now. The transponder would have whisked them away. Safe, they were safe. For a moment, I forgot the danger that surrounded me and my body began to relax, but then a fresh shadow fell over me. Oh, fuck. Glowing jade eyes bore into mine. This Shedim was bigger and wider, his face was more angular and human than his companions’, but his nose was broken and reset and a thick scar ran from his left eyebrow across the bridge of his nose to end at the right-hand corner of his mouth. And that mouth,

that awful, ravenous mouth, completed the ensemble of terror. He drifted closer, hovering above the ground just as the other one had done. I shrank back into the rock face, away from the mouth that could tear my fucking face off. He froze and blinked at me, and then his face rippled and the maw morphed into an ordinary mouth. Okay not an ordinary mouth but an extraordinary mouth with a full bottom lip a woman would be tempted to suck on, if she wasn’t in mortal danger. “If you are not guilty, you have nothing to fear,” he said. I caught a flash of his teeth, still razor-sharp, still lethal. Oh, God. The mish-mash of monster and human was a wicked trick that played with my mind and primal senses, demanding that I approach the creature as if it had a semblance of humanity while at the same time urging me to run. “Tell me. What are you doing here?” the Shedim asked. “I told your ... er, friend, I got lost.” His muscles rippled as he stalked even closer, every movement the action of a predator. “When someone is lost they retrace their steps, yet you delved farther into unknown territory.” His tone was emotionless. This wasn’t a question. He was merely stating an observation, and he had a valid point, but my silver tongue wasn’t done yet.

“It was dark, and I heard something. I got scared and I ran.” Cue girly eyelash flutter and heaving bosom, although the heaving bosom wasn’t an act, because it was taking every ounce of willpower not to scream my fucking head off. I’d heard about these creatures, read about them, even seen the odd crudely-sketched illustration, but nothing had prepared me for an inthe-flesh, up-close-and-personal encounter with the dragon liege’s assassin pets. The Shedim was studying me with a narroweyed gaze. His long, thick, dark lashes cast shadows on his high cheekbones. He was a monster, and monsters didn’t get to have lashes like that. “Balen is correct, you reek of lies.” His voice was a deep melody, tugging at a secret part of me. But my brain was in action mode, ignoring my physical responses to him, because he could smell my lies for godsake. What were these creatures? Walking lie detectors? And if so, then how the fuck was I going to get out of this? And oh, God, he was up close and personal now, his hands braced on the rock face either side of me, trapping me in the cage of his arms. Heat wafted off him, mellow and sensuous, and then he dipped his head toward the crook of my neck. My body tensed, every fiber aching to scream, to run, but then his nose brushed against my jugular and my muscles relaxed, knees turning to jelly, stomach contracting in that familiar

aching way preceding a thoroughly good fuck. He pulled back sharply and my neck heated. Seriously? What the fuck? His features flattened out, primal, alien, and deadly. Ice rushed through my veins, killing the heat that had flooded me a moment before. Balen came careening around the corner. “Azren, the private tribute has been taken.” Something dark and fleeting crossed Azren’s face and then Balen was rushing me. A scream finally ripped its way free from my throat, but it was Azren’s hand that curled around my neck, and instead of pushing me up against the wall, he yanked me close, right up against that huge, alien body of his that felt all too male and all too human. He brought his lips close to mine, his breath, spicy and fragrant, making my head reel and reminding me of the awesome curry house at the corner of my street. “You’re a fool, neph.” His tone was resigned. “A fool.” He exhaled into my face, a cloying fragrance, and the world went black.

C ONSCIOUSNESS BLOOMED SLOW AND LEISURELY, and then a tightness at the back of my neck morphed into pain and the world blazed into focus.

Information hammered my synapses—people around me, voices, excited and eager, and the ground at least a foot below me. Someone was holding me up by the back of the neck. I twisted midair, earning myself a shaking that made my teeth rattle and my spine ache. Someone laughed— a cruel, feminine melody. I strained, trying to get a glimpse of my assailant. Jade eyes flashed in the periphery of my vision. Azren. Azren had me. His grip was like a vise. It hurt. Best stay still. Best not fight. I went limp in his arms, and he stopped rattling me like a maraca. This was bad, this was super bad, and my instincts told me worse was to come. Damn Adam Noir and his behind-the-curtain interlude. My luck was truly out. We were in some kind of armor room; weapons hung from the walls and dark wood paneling covered most of the brickwork. The people watching the show were all Draconi, and the air was charged with anticipation as their gazes flitted from me over to the main attraction—the imposing Draconi seated on a humungous gold throne set on a raised platform right in front of me. Her green eyes blazed with eager wrath. This was the dragon liege. Elora Drako. The most feared liege in all Draconi history, if the tales were to be trusted, and right now, staring into those dispassionate eyes, I believed every horrific thing

ever written about the creature. The skin she’d donned was just a pretty suit, and an ineffective one at that because her primal menace seeped out of her pores, saturating the air in pheromones that screamed, kill, kill, kill. The crowd shifted and closed in. Was this how a cornered gazelle felt? My gaze dropped to the bodice of her boned corset, and then to her hands clasped innocuously enough on her lap—hands with strange symbols inked across the backs. My mind froze as it encountered the horrific talons protruding from the tips of her fingers—talons that could tear me to shreds. Look away. Just look away. Three smaller thrones were stationed to the liege’s left, and three very different males sat on them. They watched me impassively as my crazy heart beat struggled to find resting pace. Who the heck were they? Azren pulled me back, close enough that the heat of his body mingled with the fear-drenched heat of mine. “You dare to steal from me?” Elora’s voice had the Draconi freezing in their tracks. It was a rumble of thunder that rattled my bones and chilled my marrow because she was addressing me. Fear activated my smart mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just came here to party.” My voice was breathless and reedy. Someone somewhere snorted. My gaze flicked toward the sound. Valance. He stood to the left of

the throne, a goblet of something or other clutched in his hand. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to expose his tan, muscular forearms. And why the heck was that detail important right now? Elora leaned forward in her seat. Her thin upper lip curled up, exposing eye teeth way too thick and long to fit in such a face. “Where are my tributes, neph?” There were two choices here. Play dumb, or fess up and call her out on the tribute being a breach of the treaty. If there’d been any neph in the room then the latter would have totally been the way forward, but this was a private affair, and I was on my own. Dumb it would have to be. Letting go of the reins holding back the fear, I allowed terror to rise to the surface. My eyes burned and then misted with tears. “Please, please, don’t kill me.” There was no faking the tremor in my voice, or the twist in my stomach. “I took a wrong turn and got lost. I don’t know anything about a tribute.” “Azren, what did you find?” Elora asked. The Shedim holding me aloft squeezed the back of my neck, and pain danced across my shoulders. “She carries weapons and reeks of magic.” “Weapons?” “She is a bounty hunter, an investigator, and a

retriever,” Azren continued. “She does not work for The Collective, although they want her to. She remains freelance.” My heart sank. How could he know this, unless ... unless he’d read my mind while I’d been unconscious. “She was sent to retrieve the childr—the private tributes,” Azren continued. What about Adam? Did he know about Adam Noir? A female stepped forward from the gathered, and Valance tensed. It was the woman who’d been a bitch to Valance at the buffet table in the ballroom. She shot me a smug glance and then offered Elora a deep bow. “My liege, forgive me, but I would be remiss if I did not inform you that our beloved Prince Valance escorted this neph into the ballroom.” The word beloved was saturated with faux sweetness. The only indication of Valance’s discomfort in light of the revelation was a tightening of his shoulders. “Valance?” Elora didn’t turn to look at her son, but her whole body seemed to coil in on itself, a serpent preparing to lash out. Valance shrugged, but the strain around his eyes belied his casual demeanor. “I escorted her, yes. I like leather.” His lips curved suggestively. A low growl emanated from Elora. “You

brought a thief into my home.” “Unwittingly,” Valance added. Elora’s eyes narrowed and then a sadistic smile painted her lips. “Put her down, Azren.” The Shedim released me. My feet hit the ground, and my knees gave way. I stumbled, but a strong hand grabbed my arm, steadying me and holding me up. Azren stared down at me, his face emotionless, and then slowly, deliberately, he removed his fingers from my arm. He’d given me a moment to collect myself, to stand on my own, but why? “What is your name, neph?” Elora asked. My throat was too dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Wila.” “Your full given name.” It felt invasive giving her that information, but there was little choice. “Wilomena Bastion.” “Do you know what the penalty for stealing from the Draconi crown is?” Oh, God. “No.” She grinned, her face morphing into the beast that she was, teeth and flared nostrils and scaled ridges that would tear and shred. My bowels turned to water, but there was no way I’d quake, not when I knew that was exactly what she wanted. She morphed back and steepled her fingers beneath her chin as if nothing had happened. There was a long beat of silence as the room

seemed to hold its breath. My gaze flew to Valance, the drunken prince who’d offered me a lift and now stood beside the monster who was about to announce my fate. From the tense expression on his face it wasn’t going to be anything good. Elora leaned forward in her seat, eagerness painting her perfect features. “I will give you to my guards and they will have your soul. They will shred it and tear it and then they will abuse your flesh with fire and ice and sharp objects, and when they’re done, when your soul is nothing but a whisper, when your flesh is tender and ready, then I will consume you.” This was what Balen had meant when he’d asked if he could have me? This was what my punishment would be? My body went numb, and my veins flooded with ice. This morning, my biggest concern had been picking up more Earl Grey tea, and now... No humor, no wit would get me out of this. Valance took a step toward the throne. “The penalty for your crime is—” Valance cut her off by leaning in and whispering something into her ear. Elora’s emerald eyes narrowed speculatively and then her lips curved in a sly smile. Valance stepped back and resumed his position a couple of feet beside the throne. “The penalty is death,” Elora continued. “But

the Draconi believe in fate, and fate has brought you to me. Fate may save your life.” What was she talking about? She glanced at the males seated to her right; they looked to her in unison as if their heads had been drawn by a magnetic force, and then all three nodded. “There is a taint on us,” Elora continued, “a rogue faction of Shedim who have broken a sacred covenant. They are untouchable across the border, and every day that they are left unchecked, they claim more lives through their treachery. Their defection hurts those that remain. So, I offer you a choice, little neph. Sign a contract to work for me, to hunt down the Shedim hiding in Arcana, or die a slow, painful, prolonged death.” Really? Was that even a choice? I looked to Valance, no idea why, but his gaze was fixed on the ground. This had been his idea. But why? Why save me? “Miss Bastion? Will you be my hunter, or will you be the meat on my plate?” Fear of death had never been an issue. The life of a hunter, a freelancer like me, was always at risk, and death was an unknown possibility, but this was immediate, graphic, and definite. There was no heroism in this death, and terror was a serpent waiting to strike. “I’ll take the job.”

6

A

document was shoved in front of me by Azren. “Hold out your hand,” he said impassively. His tone may have been neutral, but tension radiated off his body in waves. “What are you going to do?” “Draw a little blood,” he said. Oh, great. Signing in blood was never a good thing. The parchment was thick, quality paper, and the script was curly, tight, and totally illegible. The usual protocol would be to ask a lawyer to give the thing a read-through, but this was no regular situation, and with all eyes on me, several who looked like they’d prefer I get thrown to the Shedim as a party favor, not to mention the glowing yellow eyes of the creepy Balen hovering over the back of Elora’s throne, there was no alternative but

to hold out my hand and allow Azren to do his thing. His fingers curled around my wrist, his grip almost gentle. Where was the blade? He tugged me toward him and raised my hand to his mouth. He was going to— “Hell, no!” I pulled back, struggling to get free, but the grip that had seemed gentle a moment before was now a band of unrelenting steel. He took my thumb into his mouth, his hot mouth filled with fucking razors. The pain was sharp and brief and the slide of his lips on my skin as he withdrew my thumb from his mouth sent an unwelcome throb to secret places. And then he released me, taking a step back. His mouth worked a moment, and his jade eyes locked on me in mild confusion, and then he blinked slowly and deliberately before fixing his gaze over my head. He shoved the parchment at me. “Your blood, freely given,” Elora said. Freely? That was a fucking joke. The cut stung, and blood, thick and dark, had welled up on my thumb. Grabbing the contract, I wiped my thumb on it. A prickle ran over my body, a sign that I’d been bound, and then the contract was gone, poof in a puff of smoke. Yeah, Draconi had their own kind of magic. Not Arcana magic, but something old and alien. Something that didn’t even have a name. It was done. Contract signed. “So, can I go

now?” My voice sounded stronger than I felt, which was a good thing, because showing weakness to these beasts was like slitting open your abdomen and begging them to feast on your entrails. Elora canted her head. “Yes, Miss Bastion, you may go. You will take Azren with you, and you will report back to me at the next full moon.” What? I glanced up at the Shedim behind me. “Um, did you just say he had to come with me?” Elora’s grin was wide and horrific. “You should always read the fine print of any document you sign, Miss Bastion.” Fucking bitch. Her expression grew hard, and her skin rippled, as if the beast inside was eager to break free. “Azren is now in your employ, and you are in mine. You will find the rogue Shedim, and Azren will bind them and bring them to me. You will not attempt to engage them in any other way, do you understand?” I nodded. “I understand.” “Good hunting, Miss Bastion.” Azren gripped my elbow, and with my heart beating so hard it threatened to burst from my chest, I allowed him to lead me from the room.

THE

NEXT FEW

minutes were a blur as Azren

propelled me down corridor after corridor and then out into the night. Cool air kissed my brow and filled my lungs. We were in a tunnel similar to the one all the guests had arrived in. Except this one was lined with a variety of motorbikes. “Just breathe. You’re alive,” he said roughly. I did just that. Hands braced on my knees, doubled over, I breathed and sobbed, my chest aching from holding it all in. So close to death. So fucking close. Long seconds ticked by, then, “Good. Now shut it off and follow me.” Azren walked off. I straightened to stare at him. “Shut it off? What the fuck?” He paused with his back to me. He was no longer doing the floating thing. His torso was clad in a form-fitting, long-sleeved T-shirt, and his legs were now encased in denim and biker boots. Boots to go with the goliath motorcycle parked up against the wall, all black and sexy chrome. He’d kitted himself out for across the border, ready to blend right in, except for the dagger strapped to his waist. He slowly turned to face me. He’d even dimmed the vibrancy of his eyes. “Crying won’t change what happened, so why do it?” The words were a disgusted growl. “It’s called emotional release, but you’d actually have to have emotions to know that.” He turned his head away, offering only his

profile, all moonlit and aloof. “Emotions will get you killed.” God, he had it so twisted. “Actually, emotions are what keep us alive.” His lip curled up, revealing the razor teeth he hadn’t bothered to disguise. “And yet, the only thing that kept you alive tonight was your profession.” He walked over to a goliath of a bike and climbed on. “Move it.” His posture, his tone, his fucking aura all screamed that he was pissed. He did not want to be doing this, but the contract was signed, and if I was ever going to be free then we needed to work together. Being pissed off was a waste of energy. Puffing out my cheeks, I blew out an agitated breath and held up my hands. “Look, it’s not my fault Elora’s sending you with me. Being snarky with me isn’t going to change anything.” His jaw ticked. “Just get on the damned bike so we can get on with this. The sooner we root out the traitors, the sooner I can come home.” Home. This fucked-up place was home to him, and because I’d stolen from his liege he was essentially being exiled. Yeah, living with this dude was going to be real fun. He started the engine, and the bike purred to life like a big cat being scratched behind the ears, and my stomach flipped. Dressing like a biker chick did not mean bikes were my thing. Hell, if there was a guarantee that it wouldn’t

mess with the business persona, I’d paint my Mini pink and wear a fucking feather boa. Speaking of wearing stuff. “You got a helmet?” He snorted and shook his head. “Do you think fate would spare you from the jaws of my liege only to spatter your brains across the asphalt?” “Yeah, I’m still gonna need that helmet.” This time his growl was a feral thing that grabbed at my insides and twisted. “Get on the damned bike.” Ookay. I’d just dodged being soul shredded and eaten by a dragon, so getting pissy about riding without a helmet seemed ridiculous, not that he was offering to give me a choice. I threw up my hands. “Fine. Just get me to the bridge in one piece. My car is parked there. Then you can follow me.” Luck had made the Mini stall, and now that my luck was out, it’d probably be working fine. Deep breath, you can do this. Climbing up wasn’t so easy; it meant touching him. His shoulder was all taut muscle under my palm as I swung up onto the monster machine. Metal vibrated between my legs, sending inappropriate, totally unwelcome sensations thrumming through my body. “Hold on,” he ordered. Oh, lord. Wrapping my arms around his tapered waist brought me up against his broad back, and then we were in motion, straight down the tunnel

and onto a steep dip. My insides did a loop-theloop. No. No. No. Eyes squeezed shut, I buried my face in his shirt, held on for dear life, and gripped with my thighs as if the world depended on my muscle strength. We hit the bottom of the hill and then rolled onto a plateau, but hey, why wreck a good thing by looking up, right? Wind ruffling through the back of my hair, metal purring between my thighs, and rippling muscle rubbing up against my front, we made the journey through Draconi territory to the border. The motorbike swerved, and then came to a smooth halt. “Is this vehicle yours?” The buzz of the engine still vibrated in my ears, making his voice sound faraway. “Watch the tone. Mini is an antique.” It was time to unplug myself from the Shedim. Peeling myself off the bike, I stumbled onto the asphalt, resisting the urge to get on my knees and kiss the ground. The Mini sat staring at me in admonishment. I staggered over and patted her on the fender. “Hey, girl. Sorry about abandoning you. We good?” I popped open the door and then glanced across at Azren. The bike engine was idling as he braced the huge bike easily with one boot planted on the ground. His hair was tousled from the ride, falling across his forehead in a just-got-out-of-bed style. He looked almost normal, and then he had to go

and spoil it with a curl of his lip and a flash of those razor teeth, as if he was reminding me what he was —danger at my back. “Can’t you do something about ...” I pointed at my mouth. “Those.” “Can you do something about yours?” Okay, that may have come across as offensive. Hey, who knew, maybe those teeth were incredibly desirable to the female Shedim. His whole floaty, glowy, sharp-edged looks with the wicked scar could be the in look in his circle. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I just meant, if you’re trying to fit in ...” He sighed. “No. I cannot change them.” “Okay. That’s cool, if anyone asks we can just say you have kelpie blood or something. Maybe we can pick up some l’eau de fish and douse you with it, make it all authentic-like.” He stared at me blankly. Seriously? Nothing? No smile. No chuckle. No good one, Bastion? This guy was killing my confidence with his deadpan responses. I needed a dose of Gilbert and Trevor, stat. “Never mind, just follow me. I need to make a stop before we go home.” “No. We start hunting now.” I’d signed a contract to hunt down rogue Shedim, but there’d been no time line. I still had a business to run, and the contract had been clear

about how Azren fit in. “Listen, big guy. You’re on my turf now, and according to your liege, you work for me. So, we go where the fuck I say we go, and we do what the fuck I say we do.” His brows snapped down. “You signed a contract to hunt.” “Yeah, and I’ll honor it. But I have a business to run, and the bills aren’t going to pay themselves. It’s not like your liege is paying me anything.” His eyes narrowed. “She spared your life.” Seriously? “Are you kidding me right now? In what fucking world is having your soul shredded and then being fed to a fucking dragon a reasonable punishment for stealing?” He stared down his nose at me. “In the Draconi world.” “And, of course, you’re okay with that.” His jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I do not make the law, I enforce it. I do not mete out the punishments. I simply hand over the guilty. The new generation has been raised to have appetites honed to include depraved acts. Their service is rewarded by indulging these depravities. It instils fear and ensures that citizens do not step out of line. In the current climate of senseless dissention, it is a necessary evil.” “Is it senseless?” He blinked at me and then canted his head. “Our liege is our savior. She slew our oppressor,

King Ivan, and raised us from the ashes to give us voice. She took us under her mighty wings and brought us with her when she broke out of the horrific world that had been our prison for too long.” He snorted. “You have no idea what lies beyond the Keep. What horrors we keep at bay so that your world may remain untainted. You think we are the monsters ... You have no idea.” “Our world has been tainted. It was tainted when you encroached upon it, so damn straight you need to keep your shit on your side of the bloody border.” He tucked in his chin, shoulders heaving as if reining in his temper. When he raised his head, his expression was closed. “We have different views, different experiences, and as I must work in your world, we will do this your way. But do not forget you must report to Elora on the next full moon, which is just over two weeks away. Time is of the essence, and arguing merely wastes what little time we have.” The thought of going back sent ice trickling down my spine, but that was a bridge we’d cross when we came to it. With a neat three-point turn, I pointed the Mini in the right direction and bombed it down the now empty bridge. Southside was ten miles out of my way, but there was no way I’d get any sleep without making sure Miss Hamilton and the kids were all right. Yeah, I was going to go

check on my stolen goods, and Azren was just gonna have to deal with that.

7

T

he Gables was a huge Edwardian house. Chimneys jutted up off the slate roof, and the sash windows on the lower floor were dark, but the long, thin bay windows of the upper floor bloomed with yellow light. A shadow passed across the upper-floor window. The knot in my chest loosened. They were home, they’d made it. I stood at the gate looking up at the porch. The light was off, meaning no visitors. “Who lives here?” Azren asked. “Just a friend.” He looked up at the house, his gaze falling on the neatly painted sign hanging to the left of the porch: The Gables Orphanage. “The stolen tribute?” “Not tributes, children. They’re innocent

children, and one of your people invited them into Draconi territory on the pretext of an educational visit and then kidnapped them.” He pressed his lips together. “Are you going to go in?” It was late. They were home, that was all that mattered. “No need.” I turned to leave just as the porch light blazed to life and the door swung open. Azren stepped back into the shadows cast by the rose bush. “Wila?” Matron stepped onto the porch. Oh, man. It was so good to see her again now that we weren’t on a timer. “I just wanted to check you were all right.” She swallowed hard. “I thought you were dead. I thought they got you.” I picked at the paint on the gate. “They did, but you know me. I can talk my way out of anything.” She let out a strangled sound, part laughter, part sob, and held out her arms. “Come here, crazy child.” I was up that path and in her arms in a flash. The scent of rose water enveloped me, and nostalgia was an ache in the pit of my stomach. Home, this was home. She pulled back, cupped my face, and kissed my temple. “Why? Why did you stay away so long?” “I’m sorry. I kept meaning to come, but there’s always another case.”

She’d taught me to be honest, to stand tall, to be a good person, and I’d left to become a manipulator, a liar, and a thief. Okay, so the stuff I stole was usually already stolen, and the people I retrieved more often than not had been taken, but the world I inhabited was a far cry from the one I’d been raised in, and to bring the taint here would be like casting a dark shadow over the warm, buttery reality Matron had created for these lost and abandoned children. They’d learn about the real world soon enough, they’d see the depravity, the death, and the pain in due course. Why trek it across the threshold? She was looking into my eyes in that intense way of hers again. “I’m proud of you, Wila,” she said finally. “So proud of who you’ve become. Of the aid you give to those in need, and the manner in which you take care of yourself.” A lump formed in my throat. She couldn’t really mean that. “I’m a bounty hunter, a thief, and a master liar.” “And if you weren’t, then we’d be dead right now.” She smiled softly. “Your skills saved our lives, and I will forever be grateful.” My eyes pricked, and I blinked back the tears. “The kids? Are they okay?” She exhaled. “Confused, scared, but I gave them all some herbal tea. They’ll be right as rain in the morning.”

“Ah, Matron’s famous herbal tea.” She tapped the side of her nose. “Cures all ills.” And as a child I’d had my fair share of tea—it had made me feel better, almost like magic, and who knew, it probably was. Matron was an enigma, a woman with a huge heart and an abundance of love and patience. “Will you come see us again soon? The children would love to meet you.” “Me?” Most of the children I’d grown up with had moved on to their own lives. I’d kept in touch with only two. “Why would they want to meet me?” Was that a blush staining her cheeks? “Oh, I may have woven some tales about my famous foster daughter who rights wrongs and metes out justice.” Was she quoting my promotional pamphlet? My lips twitched. “I’ll come by, I promise.” “Good.” Her brow furrowed. “How did you know where we were?” “Adam Noir.” Her brows shot up. “Of course.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m sure he’ll be along shortly to check on his progeny.” The disapproval was etched onto her handsome face. “You think he should claim her?” “I think he should tell her the truth.” “The truth?”

“She doesn’t know he’s her father. He comes by every few weeks with gifts for all the kids and plays the generous benefactor, he’s careful not to give her too much attention, but she’s beginning to suspect something regardless. They share many of the same physical features, and one of the other children remarked on it recently.” “He’s afraid the Arcana will find out.” “Yes, I know. But the longer he leaves it, the more damage the lie will do. He wants to be a part of her life, and yet he can never claim her. Better to cut her loose, less damaging in the long run.” “Have you told him this?” She rolled her eyes. “So many times. The man is as stubborn as a mule.” “I should get going.” “Yes. Go get some rest.” She smoothed my hair. “I’m glad you made it out unscathed.” Unscathed but not unfettered. “So am I.” She retreated into the house as I climbed down the steps. The porch light winked out, and Azren stepped out of the shadows. “She raised you?” “Do you even have to ask? Haven’t you trawled through my mind enough?” He flinched as if I’d slapped him. “I read you for lies, as is my duty. I ascertained your purpose at the Keep, but that is all. I would never be so intrusive as to delve deeper without your consent.”

“How noble. But you know what’s even nobler?” He stared at me blankly. “Not invading someone’s privacy in the first place.” “Maybe you should take your own advice.” “I’m not going to apologize for saving children from becoming a dragon aperitif, so you can just fuck off.” “You curse too much.” “Yeah, get used to it.” I climbed into Mini and started the engine. “Do we hunt now?” “No. Now we go get some sleep.” The engine started with a soft purr. How long had it been since I’d taken a guy home? Oh, yeah, like never, and I was about to break my streak with a Shedim. Trevor was going to throw a fucking fit.

“NO . Uh-uh, he can’t stay here,” Trevor said. He stood in the hallway leading to the stairs. “He’s one of them, have you seen his teeth? He could slaughter us all in our sleep.” “I could slaughter you right now,” Azren said. “Strange little abomination.” “Pomeranian. I’m a Jack Pomeranian cross.”

Trevor bristled with indignation, then turned to me. “I bet they eat dogs.” Azren took a step forward and bared his teeth in a feral hiss. Trevor scampered up several stairs. “If he stays, I go.” There was no way Trevor was going anywhere. Aside from the fact that I’d never let him leave, he had nowhere else to go, and he knew it. But there was no way I’d be calling his bluff. My friends were my family and they came first. Always. “Stop it!” I grabbed Azren’s shoulder and attempted to yank him back. It was like trying to shift a mountain. “Elora said I had to employ you, she never said I had to house you too. So unless you want to spend the night on the street, you will apologize to Trevor, and you will assure him that you will not be slaughtering any of us, asleep or otherwise.” He blinked at me in surprise. “You wish me to give you my word?” What was with the emphasis? “Yeah, sure, do that.” He exhaled through his nostrils and then stood up straight, placing a hand over his left pectoral. “I give you my word, I will not slaughter you or your little abomination.” Ah, his word. “Trevor,” Trevor barked. “Say it, say my

name.” Oh, man. This was the weirdest exchange ever. Azren arched a brow at the canine. “I will not slaughter Trevor.” Trevor’s tiny, tense body relaxed. “Good. That’s good. But he’s not sleeping on the second floor.” So, that left my floor or the fourth, which was a mess of furniture, dust, and boxes. I’d been meaning to get that place cleaned out for ages ... “Azren, you can have the fourth floor, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to tidy it up a bit.” He inclined his head. “Hard work is not a deterrent to my kind.” “Great!” I clapped my hands. “Now, let’s all get some fucking rest.” Azren winced. “Must you curse with every other sentence?” “Must you work for a villainous dragon overlord that likes to eat babies?” He snapped his mouth closed. “He does have a point,” Trevor said. “Shut it, Trev, or I’ll release him from his word and get him to eat you.” Trevor gave me the stink eye before turning his back and bounding up the stairs to his floor. My boot hit the first step, and the shrill ringing of the phone cut through the air. Seriously? It was gone midnight. Who the heck could that be?

“Head up to the fourth floor. I’ll be there in a minute with blankets and stuff.” I headed for the office where the old-style phone was practically vibrating in its cradle. Another antique purchase that made everything seem more authentic. I grabbed the receiver on the tenth ring. “Hello?” “Miss Bastion?” The line crackled but Adam Noir’s dulcet tone was unmistakable. Seriously, the guy could make millions in the telephone sex trade. Heck, he could bottle that voice and sell it on the black market. “Yeah. It’s me.” “Thank goodness. There was some excitement at the celebration, and then some key Draconi seemed to vanish. The rumor was that something was stolen. I was worried you’d been captured.” “I was.” Silence. “What?” “I was captured. But I managed to get out of an extremely graphic death sentence by agreeing to work as a hunter for Elora and employing one of her Shedim to help me.” “Are you serious?” “Deadly.” “How can you be so flippant about this?” “Believe me, once I get into bed, I intend to cry myself to sleep, but right now I’m barely holding it together, so if there’s anything else you need to

speak to me about, can we please do it in the morning?” “The kids are safe?” “Yes.” “I’ll see you in the morning.” I hung up. Time to tuck a demon into bed.

AZREN STOOD STARING at the dust-filled hallway. His large, powerful frame looked lost and forlorn in such unfamiliar surroundings. Each floor had its own hallway and a lounge area with rooms leading off that. There was barely space to move here. The only indication that he was aware of my presence was a shift of muscle beneath that tight-fitted shirt of his. “Here.” I held out a bundle of bedding and a pillow. “There’s a bed in the room to the left.” God, I was evil for sticking him up here, but despite what I’d said to Trevor about Azren not slaughtering us, and even though he’d taken an oath not to, having him on the same floor as me was not an option. In fact, my door would be firmly locked tonight. He took the bundle. “This will do nicely.” “It will?” He offered me a close-lipped smile. “It has much potential.”

“Yeah? Well knock yourself out, big guy. Make it comfortable, but not too comfortable. I plan to net these rogues fast, and then you’re out of here.” “Yes. Tomorrow we will begin the hunt.” His lips parted and his teeth glinted in the moonlight streaming in from the curtainless bay windows. The scar that ran across his face seemed harsher in the silver rays, and the glamour he was using to soften his feral features slipped to reveal the monster beneath. His eyes flared to life with bloodthirst. My stomach twisted as the memory of his fingers digging into the back of my neck flooded my brain, reminding me that he was a predator just like Elora, and he’d be sleeping under my roof, shadowing my every move. He was a predator who’d given me his word that he wouldn’t kill me, but he could hurt me if he wished, and the look in his eyes at that moment spoke of the desperate desire to inflict pain. I backed up and fled down the stairs to the floor below, but I didn’t stop there; instead, my feet took me down to the ground floor and into the kitchen where I grabbed a beer from the fridge and then headed through the cellar door down into the basement. The steps creaked beneath my feet, and the air hissed in welcome. Grabbing the string dangling from the ceiling, I pulled and bathed the space in anemic light. There was a torch down

there too, just in case the bulb went. There was no way I was getting trapped down in the dark. Fucked up how one childhood experience could leave a long-term scar. An hour locked in a wardrobe courtesy of Gareth, the pimply fucker. I’d broken his nose for that, and Miss Hamilton had punished me by making me clean out the library with her. Not really a punishment considering I’d loved spending one on one time with her. But yeah, claustrophobia was now a thing for me. Boxes and broken shit littered the basement, but my attention was on the door, the metalreinforced door built into the brickwork at the far end of the room. Several locks kept the thing closed. A lone chair was placed a few feet from the door. I parked my butt, popped the cap on my beer, and took a swig. The knot in my chest tightened, and my throat pinched. “Hey, you awake?” A despairing sigh drifted through the door. “You wouldn’t be down here if I wasn’t.” The voice was male with a perpetual sarcastic lilt to it. “Today was pretty shit.” “Really? Did you get to leave this house?” “Yes.” “Well, in that case, your day was better than mine.” “Guilt won’t work on me.” “And yet I keep trying.”

My lips twitched. “You could just tell me what you are.” “And spoil the surprise. I hardly think so.” The first time the voice had spoken to me I’d almost lost my shit. He’d begged to be let out, of course, but my gut had denied the request. Someone had gone to a lot of effort to lock whatever he was up, and then that same someone had left him to me. I’d spent the next few months getting to know my mystery house guest and was no closer to figuring out what he was than on our first meeting. Gilbert refused to have anything to do with it, steering clear of the basement at all costs, and urging me to do the same. When we’d first discovered the Voice, Gilbert had tried to slip through the metal, but it was impervious to spirits. Trevor wouldn’t go anywhere near the cellar door. But for me, for some reason, just being here, just talking to whatever was behind the door, helped when things got crazy. There was an instinctual foreboding, a gut feeling that both repelled and drew me to him. I guess curiosity was my bane. Why was he here? Who put him here? Was he a gift from my benefactor? Was this some kind of test that would suddenly dissolve the privacy clause in the will? Another sigh. “Why don’t I get my notepad out, and you can tell me all about it, hmmm?” “Funny.”

“I do try. I’d try even harder if you let me out.” “I almost died today.” Silence greeted my declaration. “I almost died and now the thing that probably would have been responsible for making sure my execution was carried out is sleeping under my roof.” “And why is he here?” “I’ve tied myself into a blood contract and he’s part of it. I have to find some rogue Shedim, and he’s been sent to help me hunt.” “So, what would hurting you achieve aside from preventing you both from meeting your objective?” “Nothing, I guess.” Hurting me would just mean that hunting would be off the agenda, and that was counter-productive. I was safe. I’d dodged a bullet, and now it was safe to expel the fear. My stomach quivered as the emotions I’d pushed down rose to the surface and spilled silently from my eyes. “You’re safe. For now.” “Yeah, I guess, but there’s something seriously wrong with me. I smart-mouthed the dragon liege.” “And you survived.” “I got lucky.” “Maybe. Or maybe you just showed the monster that you’re worth more to her alive, that fear does not cripple you. You used your humor as a shield.”

He was right. Humor was my shield, my go-to place when things got tough, and damn if it hadn’t saved my arse on more than one occasion. You couldn’t think straight when having an emotional meltdown, and humor was the key that kept that shit locked up until it was safe to vent, except once we’d gotten out of the Keep, once we’d been in the night air, not even humor had been able to keep a rein on the aftershocks of terror. If Azren hadn’t pissed me off, then ... wait, had he pissed me off on purpose? He was so stick-up-his-arse and loyal to the wrong side, but he’d taken a step back at The Gables, given me a moment to decompress. It would be so easy to tar him with the same brush as Elora, to hate him for what he represented, but he was just a soldier following orders, and hating him wouldn’t get me anywhere. As long as he kept his talons to himself and followed my lead, we’d work together just fine. “These conversations would be much more comfortable on a couch, or on a bench even,” the voice said. “The conditions in here are terribly cramped, and I’m parched. You couldn’t just open the door a crack and throw in a bottle of water, could you?” “Nice try.” I took a long swig of my beer. The knot was still there, emotion that needed expelling, but this trip had been for the mind, not the soul. For the rest, I

needed to be alone. “Nice talking to you too,” he called out as I climbed the steps. Back in my pink and white haven, it took ten minutes to wait it out. The knot loosened and melted away. I was alive. I was safe, and as long as I honored my contract, I’d stay that way. A light knock on the door was followed by the scent of Earl Grey. “I thought you might need some tea,” Gilbert said. A cup floated across the room and landed on the bedside table. “Is it decaf?” I sniffed. “At this time of night, of course. What kind of monster do you think I am?” My sniffs turned into a chuckle. “Thank you, Gilbert.” “My pleasure, Wila. Do you want to talk about it?” The talking had been done. “No. I’m good.” “In that case, there will be pancakes for breakfast.” Pressure on the top of my head told me he’d just patted me. “Sleep tight.” A soft breeze blew past me and then the air grew still. Gilbert was gone. Changing quickly into my pink rose-bordered pajamas, I slipped under the duvet and picked up the cup of tea. The residual tightness in my chest retreated with each sip because tea meant home, safety, and normal like

nothing else. Azren had been right: the sooner we found these rebels, the sooner he could go home and we could both get on with our respective lives.

8

T

revor sat at the kitchen table, canine body stiff and alert. The Daily Vine sat beside his plate. He usually liked to browse the headlines before breakfast, but this morning he hadn’t cracked a single page. Not like Trevor at all. “Collective Cracks Down on Lupin’s Use of Subzero Drug as Talon Coating,” the headline screamed. The Lupin had evolved from pack-led, instinct-based neph to upstanding members of society, business owners, and entrepreneurs no less, but you couldn’t take the beast out of a wolf man. And this headline said it all. Urgh. A stack of pancakes sat on a plate in the center of the table. Trevor often said if the curse had given him the limited digestive properties of a dog, as well as the body, he would have killed himself. The man loved food, and pancakes drizzled with

chocolate sauce were his ultimate favorite, so the fact that he hadn’t made a move to eat anything was doubly telling, but one look at the demon sitting opposite my canine friend and the reason was clear. Azren was tucking away pancakes as if they were going out of fashion, and Trevor, the resident piglet of the house, was captivated. He caught my eye and blinked slowly, then went back to Azren-watching. Had to admit, watching the demonic spirit shoveling golden delicious into his mouth with all the easy abandon of a child was kind of mesmerizing. In that moment, he wasn’t a beast that could kill me with a single talon swipe. He was merely a man enjoying a meal. A chuckle rose up my throat, but I swallowed it. Azren was not a friend. He was a necessary evil, not a member of the team. He’d given his word not to slaughter us, but if Elora asked him to, there was no doubt in my mind he’d break it. Best not to make him too comfortable. Best not to let my guard down. Wary was safe, but the fear from our first encounter was gone because right now he needed me. “Hey, guys.” I strode into the room and Azren looked up from his plate, mouth full of pancake. He swallowed hastily and composed his features. I guess looking like a piglet in front of Trevor didn’t count. His hair was damp from the shower, and his tan skin glowed in the shafts of sunlight streaming in through the windows. In this

harsh light, every cruel line of his face, including the brutal scar that ran across it, was visible in stark relief, and yet, those eyes of his, deep jade and fringed in thick, dark lashes, softened the edges of his ruthless features. He cleared his throat and indicated the plate in front of him. “This is good. Do you have these every day?” I poured myself a cup of tea from the preprepared pot on the table. “Not every day. But Gilbert’s pancakes are exceptionally tasty. You’re lucky you were here for them.” Azren looked about. “Gilbert?” Trevor sniffed. “He hasn’t met Gilbert yet. Gilbert popped out once breakfast was ready.” “Well, you’ll meet him soon, I suppose.” Azren nodded and took another pancake off the stack. “Leave some for the rest of us,” Trevor grumbled. Azren paused in mid-bite. “Do abominations eat pancakes?” “For the hundredth time, I am not an abomination. I am a man cursed into a dog.” He turned to me. “Tell him, Wila.” I stuck a fork in a pancake and slid it onto my plate. “Azren, Trevor is not an abomination.” “If you say so,” Azren said with a shrug that pulled his dark shirt tight over his shoulders. He sat

back in his seat, and my gaze fell to his abdomen, where material of said shirt clung to his abs lovingly. Fucking hell, demon bodies were tight. Tearing my gaze away, I polished off the pancake. I really needed to get laid, and soon. “We hunt today?” Azren said. “Yes. We hunt. But first we need to find out where to hunt. I have some friends that we can speak to who may have heard something about Shedim activity in Arcana. If not, they may know who we can speak to.” “Good. You do not want to return to Elora empty-handed.” My stomach quivered, and the pancakes no longer looked that appetizing. Azren drained his cup of tea. “What is this beverage? I like it.” “You don’t have tea on the Westside?” “No. There are many things we do not have.” I gasped and placed a hand on my chest in mock horror. “No tea?” I shook my head. “Pancakes I can understand, but no tea? Now that sucks.” His gaze narrowed. “We eat for sustenance, not for pleasure.” “So what do you eat?” Trevor asked. “Children?” “Trev ...” My tone held warning at the low blow, but I was curious.

Azren had gone completely still, his jaw tight. “No. We do not have the same appetites as the Draconi.” “Yes,” Trevor said snidely. “I’ve heard all about your appetites.” Oh, God. How could I have forgotten the whole sex reference. Shedim were meant to be highly sexed, and yet Azren seemed perfectly—for want of a better word—unhorny. Although the memory of his body heat beating against my skin when he’d held me up against the wall made my neck grow warm. “My other appetites are none of your damned business,” Azren said. It was my turn to clear my throat. “So, um, what do you eat?” His gaze cut to me, and my breath lodged in my throat. “Rodent, weevil, sometimes there will be other meat like chicken, and sometimes our liege will permit us the bones and scraps from her table, but more often than not, we abstain. We do not have the same hungers as the Draconi.” Man, I wish I’d never asked. “You go hungry?” The edge had bled out of Trevor’s tone. Yeah, Trevor loved food. The canine was like a bear with a sore head if he didn’t get his meals on time. Azren shrugged. “We can survive for long

periods without eating.” There was a little chocolate sauce on the corner of his mouth. “You have a little something”—I indicated the corner of my mouth—“here.” His brow furrowed and then his tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth, and my insides tightened. Fear, it was fear, but the flash of heat that accompanied the pang was something else. “It’s still there,” Trev said. That fucking swipe of the tongue again. Fuck this. Sliding back my chair, I leaned across the table, grabbed his chin, and ran the pad of my thumb across the spot, wiping it clean. “It’s gone now.” My voice was tight, making me sound almost angry. He stared up at me, his expression stunned. The heat from his skin seeped into mine with a tingle of awareness. His throat bobbed and then his lips tightened, and there was that come-hither heat again. Heck, no. I fell back into my seat, picked up my cup for a swig, realized it was empty, and put it back down again. “We should go.” Yes.” Azren pushed back his seat. “We should hunt.” The bloodthirsty gleam that usually accompanied those words was absent, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes, although his brows were

drawn. He looked pissed off. He followed me into the Foyer. K was propped against the banisters along with my bolts. I loaded up while the heat of his regard painted the side of my face. Touching him had been a bad idea; touching him had felt way too natural, and it had obviously offended him. The front door opened and a shadow fell across us as Adam Noir stepped into the hallway. “Miss Bastion, I believe we have some business to attend—” His eyes widened as they slid past me and onto Azren. His arm shot out, expelling a blast of electrical energy. The blue and white sparks hit Azren square in the chest, knocking him off his feet and propelling him back into the kitchen. Trevor’s terrified bark drifted out toward me and then Azren was barreling back into the hallway, his huge body a blur as it gunned for Adam. “Stop!” I stepped into Azren’s path, body slamming him, arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest in a hug. “Stop. He’s a client.” “Miss Bastion, get away from it.” Adam sounded horrified. “He’s an employee,” I threw over my shoulder. Azren had gone completely still, and yeah, I was still hugging him. Awkward. Slowly, and very deliberately, I peeled myself off his thrumming body, awareness a tingle at every point our bodies

had made contact, which was pretty much all over. Azren remained completely still. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest. The glamour had fallen away enough for his eyes to do their glowing thing, and his face was suddenly more angular. His attention was on Adam. He bared his lethal teeth in a menacing growl. I held up my hands. “I’m sure Adam didn’t mean to attack you, did you, Adam?” I looked pointedly at Noir. Adam Noir looked from Azren to me and the moment was defused. “What the hell is going on, Miss Bastion.” I looked to Azren. His narrowed gaze was still fixed on Noir, but the glow was gone. “We good?” Azren snorted. I sighed. “Step into my office, and I’ll explain.”

“YOU SIGNED A BLOOD CONTRACT WITH E LORA?” Noir shook his head. “She had no choice,” Azren said. The office was bathed in morning sunlight. It spilled across Noir, setting his golden hair on fire. Azren stood with his back to the window and his arms folded, his figure cast in shadow. The light and the dark, face to face, was weirdly symbolic, and

yeah, I was reading way too much into this. “I wasn’t speaking to you,” Adam snapped at Azren, never taking his eyes off me. “What did the contract say. Exactly.” Azren’s chest rumbled and his eyes flashed. It was obvious he was itching to pummel Noir, but the Shedim was on my turf, and he’d agreed to play by my rules. “Miss Bastion? The contract?” Noir pressed. Oh, shit. “I don’t know. It was pretty illegible.” “You didn’t read it?” “I couldn’t. Like I said, illegible.” “And you signed?” He was making me sound like a moron, and anger flared in my chest at his incredulous tone. “It was a die-or-fucking-sign situation.” I caught Azren’s wince at the use of my curse word and rounded on him. “And if you’re going to be working on this side of the border, then get used to the cursing. Trust me, there’s so much worse out there.” Noir sighed. “We need to get hold of a copy of that contract.” He sounded genuinely concerned, and a shiver of apprehension slipped up my spine. “It’s sweet that you care, but I doubt that’s going to happen, because there is no way I’m going back and asking for a copy.” Noir stroked his chin. “Yes, I guess that may be

inflammatory. But we need to be sure of the wording.” “Azren?” I arched an enquiring brow at the demon. “As if he’ll tell you,” Noir said. Azren growled low and menacing in his throat, and every hair on my body trembled. “If he knew, then he would.” Noir’s jaw ticked as they fell into a macho staring contest. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you both wop out your cocks, and you can compare sizes? Settle this once and for all?” Noir balked but Azren’s lips stretched in a wicked grin. “Gladly.” Whoa. Okay, was not expecting that. “Easy, Big Guy.” It was Adam’s turn to arch a brow. My neck heated. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Magic Fingers. It’s a figure of speech. Now, tell me, why is the wording so important?” He slid a glance Azren’s way. “Maybe we could talk in private.” Azren’s jaw flexed and then he shrugged. “I’ll be outside.” He strolled out of the room. Noir flicked his fingers at the door and then focused on me. “What was that?” “What?”

“The finger flick?” “An auditory blocker.” “You really don’t trust him, do you?” “And you do?” Did I? I had no reason to, but then there was no concrete reason not to aside from the fact he worked for a douchebag and ate pancakes like they were sugar-coated shooting stars. “He vowed not to slaughter me, if that counts.” “Nice.” “I think so. Now spill it.” “How much do you understand about the Treaty?” “That it basically keeps the Draconi and the Shedim on the Westside. That they need to petition to come over here and that they aren’t permitted to hunt outside of the Westside.” “That’s basically it. My issue is that Elora has found a loophole with you and this contract. It’s allowing a Shedim to hunt on this side of the border under the guise of working for you when in effect you are both working for Elora.” “I don’t like that any more than you do, but if rogue Shedim are in our territory, isn’t that something we need to act on?” “Yes, it is, and Elora could have come to us with this problem ages ago. It’s suspicious that she didn’t, and now I’m concerned. What if the contract doesn’t just allow for one Shedim to work

for you, what if it’s open to more than one. What if the contract simply says Shedim—as in plural.” The penny dropped. “Then Elora could send as many Shedim as she wanted.” “Yes, and if there is no official expiry on that contract, and if there is no specific job, then she could use you as an anchor to hunt to her heart’s content.” Fucking hell. “We need a copy of that contract.” “No. What we need is to get you out of the contract, because if the Arcana Institute finds out about it, they’ll take the simplest action to nullify the threat.” My chest tightened. “They’ll kill me.” He nodded slowly. “How come you’re warning me? You could be taking me, neutralizing the threat.” And why the heck was I still talking? “You saved my daughter’s life at the risk of your own. What kind of ungrateful arsehole do you take me for?” “An Arcana Institute arsehole?” He opened his mouth to retort but I forged on. “Look, your kind have never given a shit about us plebs, so excuse me for the skepticism.” He tried to butt in and I held up my hand to stall him. “But I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, thanks for being an exception and giving a shit. But have you

considered that this job may just be a one-off? Elora seemed pretty pissed off about these rebels.” He canted his head, acceding my point. “It’s a possibility, but I highly doubt that someone as conniving as Elora will have let you off so lightly. You stole from her, and a dragon never forgives such an act. You need to wrap up this case fast and get hold of that contract.” His eyes narrowed speculatively. “I’ll help if I can. Just let me know what I can do, and Bastion, if you find yourself out of your depth, call me. This could turn sour real quick, real fast.” “Yeah, it’s not like I have you on speed dial.” He graced me with a slow blink. “Now you do.” Oh, man. These guys had way too much power. “Want to rustle me up that dustkicker over there while you’re at it?” He glanced at the poster. “That’s your thing?” “Yeah, I prefer my leather to look kick ass.” “I can see that.” He eyed me up and down, and heat climbed up my neck. A strange tension filled the room. It had been a long while since a man had looked at me like that, and coming from a tight-arse such as Adam Noir, it was even more of a blush-worthy encounter. But Arcana and plebs did not mix. Ever. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, well. Okay, are we done now?” He blinked and the weird spell was broken.

“Almost.” He pulled a wad of cash from his back pocket. “Payment for a job well done.” “Thanks.” I pocketed the cash. “So, I’ll see you around.” He followed me outside and down the steps into the driveway where his fancy car was parked. Azren looked up from the spot where he leaned against his bike. Adam walked past, expensive leather shoes crunching on gravel, and Azren blanked him, eyes straight ahead. The thud of a car door, the purr of an engine, and he was gone. Azren pushed off his bike. “You’re riding with me. We’ll get places much faster.” He had a point, but trying to direct him while barreling down a highway at goodness knew how many miles an hour was not appealing, not without a helmet anyway. “Nope. I’ll stick to four wheels. Just try and keep up.” He snorted. And was that a slight smile on his face? He turned away too quick to know for sure. No. Those lips probably didn’t even know how to smile. It had to be a trick of the light. I climbed into the Mini and started her up. Time to hunt.

9

T

he Hunter and the Prey was pretty empty when we arrived. The place usually filled up by late afternoon, but right now, it was just the regular fixtures. Maple, who always sat at the bar with a gin and tonic and romance novel and got eyed up by the two old coots playing the longest game of chess in the history of the world, and my personal favorite, Old Dermot, who sat by the window with a pint of Guinness and The Daily Vine. In his heyday, the old coot used to drive the trains that crisscrossed beneath the city—the now closed-off, underground network. All he had now were tales of a simpler time, tales of a time before the world existed in pockets. The guy was over a century old and pretty tight-lipped about his heritage and abilities, if any, but his longevity suggested he was Lupin or Sanguinata—the wolf

men and bloodsuckers that resided in packs and clans around the city. I’d asked him, of course, on several occasions, but he’d always side-stepped the question. Taylem looked up from wiping the bar, and his rugged face broke into a grin at the sight of me, but then his gaze slid over my shoulder to the hulking figure at my back and the grin slipped. Oh, dear. Softly, softly would be the key here. We’d never been an official thing, and one night did not a relationship make, but he was someone I cared about, and hurting his feelings was not on the agenda. I hailed Tay and wound my way past the tables and chairs to the long oak bar at the back of the building. This place was old-school chic, keeping the vibe of the great city Arcana had once been. Wooden bar stools and tables gave the place a rustic air. The windows were made up of tiny panes that looked like the bottom of beer bottles, and the lighting was low—lamplight level—giving the place a warm, cozy air. No wonder this was the place to be in the evening. Hot food, good drink, and pleasant company were all on offer, except that right now, Tay looked far from pleased. His eyes narrowed as we reached the bar, and his whole demeanor shifted from friendly to defensive. “Wila, what can I do for you?” “Hey, Taylem. My colleague and I were hoping

you could help us with a case we’re working on.” “Colleague?” Tay looked skeptical. “Since when do you work with anyone?” I gave a heartfelt sigh. “Sometimes you’ve gotta break the unspoken rules to get the job done, and this isn’t a case I can wrap up alone.” His brows snapped down. Oops. Wrong thing to say. “If it’s brawn you’re needing, then you’ve got me and Mack,” Tay said. “She was looking for brains,” Azren said. Taylem ignored him and addressed me. “You know we’re here for you, right?” “I do, that’s why I’m here now. I need information, and you guys know stuff.” Taylem’s gaze flicked up to Azren, then back to me. “What do you need to know?” The door behind the bar opened and Mack appeared. His craggy face ripped into an exuberant grin at the sight of me. “Bastion Bomb!” He jumped the bar, landing easily beside me, and then grabbed me in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. It was the crème de la crème of hugs, because Mack was the hug king. Thank goodness I didn’t have issues with personal space, because otherwise I’d be fucked. Not literally in this case, because Mack and I’d never had that kind of chemistry, not even for a moment. It was more a brother-sister vibe, an overprotective

brother and likes-to-get-into-scrapes sister vibe. His body tensed. He’d just spotted Azren. I patted Mack’s back. “He’s working for me, Mack. You can quit giving him the laser eyes.” Mack released me. “You’re not from these parts, are you?” he asked Azren. “No,” Azren replied. “That’s a wicked scar,” Taylem probed. “It is,” Azren replied. “Would you like one?” Silence, absolute and deadly, fell over us like a shroud, and my stomach clenched in apprehension. Tay and Mack were easygoing guys, but they were troll born, and that came with an innate aggression and territorial instinct. Right now, we were on their turf, and whether I liked it or not, they’d claimed me as part of their troll clan, or whatever it was they called it. Azren, an outsider, was unwittingly challenging these instincts simply by being here with me and threatening Tay. This could go one of two ways—real bad or worse. I stepped back into Azren, my back against his chest. “Tay, he didn’t mean anything by it.” But Taylem was locked in some kind of eye dance with Azren. The two men did the glaring macho shit that went hand-in-hand with asserting dominance in certain neph circles, and nothing I could say would matter. This was primal instinctlevel shit. The heat of Azren’s body seemed to notch up a

level, seeping through the thin leather of my jacket. Finally, Tay’s shoulders unknotted, and he gave a slow blink. “No,” he said solemnly. “I don’t think I would like one.” And just like that, the tension evaporated. Mack cleared his throat. “Well, Wila, I get the impression this isn’t a social call?” “Wila needs some information,” Tay said. “What kind of information?” Mack asked me. “I need to know if you’ve heard any rumors about Shedim on this side of the border?” Mack looked to Taylem and the brothers shook their heads. “Can’t say we have,” they said in unison. “The Patrol have been trawling more regularly, though,” Taylem said. “You should speak to Lex at the Petting Zoo. If anyone’s heard anything about illegal immigrants, then it will be Lex.” Lex? Petting Zoo? What the heck were they talking about? My confusion must have scrawled an SOS across my face because Mack clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder and then pulled me into another hug. “It looks like there’s someone Bastion doesn’t know after all,” he said with glee. “The woman with all the contacts has failed to garner this very valuable, very powerful one.” Valuable and powerful, two words that always got me tingling, and how the hell had I missed

adding this dude to my little black book of contacts? “Okay, spill it. Who is this guy?” “Lex is ... something else,” Taylem said softly. “He owns an exclusive club on the border of North and East at the edge of the Turnabout Forest. It’s a converted warehouse, and the Northsiders love getting their expensive shoes dirty going there.” “And why would he know about the Shedim?” Azren asked. Tay fixed his attention on Azren. “Because Lex is a collector—artefacts, objects, people, information. It’s all a commodity to him, and he’s damned good at what he does.” I clapped my hands together. “Well, it looks like we better pay this collector a visit.” Mack winced. “Members only, babe.” Shit. “And how do you become a member?” “You get an invite,” Taylem said. He and Mack exchanged glances again. Mack raised both his brows, and Tay sighed. “Mack and I are members, and members get to take a plus one. If you guys want, we can get you in.” He looked less than thrilled about it. I cocked my head. “Why the sour face?” “Tay hates the place,” Mack said. “Too rich for his blood. He took Toya there on a date and—” “Shut it, rubber lips,” Taylem snapped. Mack broke off into a mischievous grin. “Aw, come on, Tay, it’s a damned good story.”

Taylem looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, it’s my story to tell, when and if I want to.” It wasn’t the story he didn’t want Mack telling, it was the whole concept of him dating someone else. He was still holding out hope for an us. My heart sank. What had I done? I was such an idiot. But there was only one way to rectify this, and that was to be open and honest with him. As soon as we got a moment alone, I’d have the talk with him, make things clear, and hope and pray I didn’t lose a friend in the process. “Can we go now?” Azren asked. Taylem shook his head. “The place doesn’t open till midnight.” Great, a whole day to kill. “Fine, shall we meet you guys back here at elevenish?” Taylem nodded. “We’ll get Fergus to close up.” As if summoned by the use of his name, which he probably was, a tiny, red-bearded man appeared behind the counter. Most supernaturals were neph, born from human and Black Wing union, but there were some believed to be products of Black Wings procreating with an ancient race of beings called the Sidhe. Legends say that the Sidhe retreated back to their world centuries before the rift that brought the Draconi and Shedim to us opened, and the only proof they were ever here were the many stories of the little people. Not that they were all actually little in stature; Fergus was an exception.

He climbed up onto a stool and smiled amiably. His red beard and bushy red brows never failed to astound me, and today, his beard was done up in hundreds of little braids tied with tiny blue ribbons. “You wanting me to do the locking up?” Fergus asked. “I’ll lock up tight, boss.” “Good,” Tay said. The polite thing to say would be thank you, but thanking Fergus always broke him out in hives. It was almost as if he was allergic to the words. “Good man,” Mack said. It was his way of thanking Fergus. It was time to take my leave. “Okay, I’ll see you tonight.” Azren was already headed for the door. “Wila?” Taylem’s tone was somber. “What have you gotten yourself into?” I swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” “I’m talking about him.” He jerked his head toward the door which Azren had just exited through. “He’s not a neph, is he?” I sighed. “No. Remember that job I went to yesterday?” “Yeah.” I filled him in and his face clouded with every word. “You could have died.” “Yeah, I know, and now I’m stuck with him, but ... I don’t think he wants to hurt me.” “No,” Tay said. “I don’t think he does. But if

Elora wants you hurt, then it won’t matter what Azren wants. His free will is an illusion. So, please, be careful. There is pain in him. Too much pain.” My mouth was suddenly dry. “I should go.” “Um, Wila,” Mack said. “The Petting Zoo has a dress code, as in you’ll actually need to wear a dress.” “Well, that’s sexist.” “Your colleague will need to spruce up too.” Fuck, everything in my wardrobe aside from my work shit was pink, and this was officially a work thing. I was going to need a black dress. “Fine, I’ll wear a dress.” “You mean you actually have legs under those leather pants?” Mack teased. “She’s got great legs,” Taylem blurted. Mack froze and then turned his head slowly to look from Taylem to me. His jaw tightened. “Tay? What the fuck?” Taylem tucked in his chin. “You best go now,” he said without meeting my eyes. This was my fault. They were about to argue because of me, and I needed to stop it. “Mack, it was a one-night thing. It didn’t mean anything.” Tay flinched as if I’d slapped him. Mack’s shoulders tensed. Oh, fucking hell. It looked like my foot was going to be permanently wedged in my fucking mouth today. “I didn’t mean it like that, Tay, I—”

He held up his hand. “Wila, please. Just ... I’ll see you later.” Mack didn’t even turn to look at me. Stomach in my boots, I headed out of the door. The midday sun blinded me as I stepped out onto the pavement, and the warm rays did their best to lift my spirits, but there would be no reprieve until I’d squared things with the twins later. How could one slip-up cause so much pain? Azren was already astride his bike, one boot braced on the ground, the dagger in his hands. Two women walked by giggling like fools at the sight of him. They had no idea what they were eyeing up, no idea that he could kill them with a single swipe of his talons, because said talons were under glamour. But the dagger he was holding wasn’t. Their gazes fell on the wicked-sharp blade and the giggles cut off. They both turned and ran. “Whoa, put that away.” He frowned. “Why?” “Because you can’t just stand around holding a lethal weapon.” I patted my pocket where K was nestled. “You keep them concealed until needed.” “I do need it.” He held up the wicked blade. “The dagger will warn me of Shedim presence. It’s why I’m here, after all.” Ah. “Okay, but can you be a little more discrete?” He shrugged and slid the dagger back into its

sheath. “How do you plan to do this binding thing?” “Shedim are not corporal in the same sense as your people. The dagger is like a conduit that will pull the Shedim into the blade if the blade is used on it.” “And then what?” “I deliver the blade to my liege, and she will retrieve the Shedim and mete out justice.” “And then you get to go home?” There was a faraway look on his face. “Yes.” Who had he been forced to leave behind? Was there family waiting for him? A lover, maybe? “Do you have someone special? A girlfriend, lover ...” The question fell from my lips before I could check myself. He blinked, taken aback, and then his lips curled in an ironic smile. “Why do you ask? Are you volunteering for the position?” Jeez, could my ears get any hotter. “Whoa. I just wondered if you had someone waiting for you.” He was staring at me with an indecipherable look. “Why would you even care?” I shrugged. “I don’t know? Maybe because we’ll be working together. It might be nice to get to know each other a little.” He leaned back slightly so he was looking down his nose at me. “Very well. To answer your question, no, there is no one special yet. I have yet

to meet her.” His tone was soft, filled with longing, and it tugged at something inside me. But then his jaw flexed and his tone flattened out. “And when I do I will tell her to run.” “Um…Well, that’s ... What?” He frowned and looked away. “Every Shedim is born with a soul mate. They are always conceived at the same time, two halves of a whole. Shedim mate for life; we become tethered. When I meet my mate, we will both know it, and if she is lucky she will escape with her life.” Was I getting this straight? “You want to kill your mate?” “It doesn’t matter what I want. I belong to my liege, and nothing can come before my duty to her.” He said it in a monotone, as if he’d recited these words to himself over and over. Realization settled over me like an icy mist. “Elora will have your mate killed.” He kept his gaze fixed on a point over my head. “Like I said, my duty is to my liege.” “But what does that mean for you? I mean, that’s your mate.” His expression darkened. “I am my liege’s first hand. There is no need for anyone else. My focus is on her needs.” How brainwashed was he? “But what about your needs?” He snorted. “I fuck. I fuck a lot. Believe me,

my needs are met.” My stomach flipped hard at his use of the F word. A word he found distasteful coming from my lips, but coming from his it sounded like an invitation. “Okay. Good to know. But those weren’t the needs I was talking about.” “I eat, sleep, kill, and fuck. I have no other needs.” He bit out the words almost angrily. I held up my hands. “Okay. Fine. I get it.” The corner of his mouth curved up slightly. “Do you? Are your needs met, Wila Bastion?” He was goading me, trying to make me uncomfortable, but fuck if I was playing that game. I lifted my chin. “I eat, fuck, sleep, and kick the shit out of bad guys. Yeah, my needs are met.” His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in slightly, stealing my trembling breath with his presence. “What else?” His proximity short-circuited my brain for a second. “What?” “Tell me more. I thought we were getting to know each other?” The back of my neck heated. “I’m single. Blissfully unattached, and you know about The Gables, so ...we should get going.” I headed toward the Mini. “You can head back to the office if you like. I need to buy a dress, and we need to get you a fancy shirt and some trousers.” Okay, so I was babbling, covering my discomfort with words, but it

was working, and the heat receded, allowing me to face him in a composed manner. He stared me up and down with those deep jade peepers. “I do not need to purchase clothing.” Of course he didn’t. He could probably just summon himself some fancy threads. “Fine. But unfortunately, I can’t just imagine myself into a party dress. I’ll actually need to go and buy one.” “Fine. And then I suggest we drive past this warehouse and get a lay of the land.” “Good idea.” He revved the engine. The conversation was over.

E LOISE’ S WAS the place to go when in need of quality threads. Smack bang in the center of the Eastside, it catered mainly to the higher-end East clientele, but being friends with the owner meant that discounts were standard fare. Shame they didn’t stock the dustkicker I’d been eyeing. Eloise had been at The Gables with me, head in the clouds and fashion magazine clutched to her bosom. Clothes had been her thing. She’d made all her own outfits and even wrangled me into several of her creations. She’d left two years before me, and by the time I’d moved out, Eloise had started up her

own business. The woman was a fucking creative genius, but no matter how much money she made, she’d never forgotten where she came from. Growing up at The Gables together had forged a bond that could not be broken. It had been me, Eloise, and Fran. Fran had gone on to join The Collective, and I’d get the clockwork monthly call from her trying to convince me to sign up. She meant well, but bureaucracy wasn’t my thing. Thinking outside the box and answering to no one but myself kept my ass alive. And wow, I really needed to stop daydreaming, because Azren was about to follow me up the steps into the shop. “You don’t have to come in.” I pressed a hand to his chest to halt his progress. He looked down at my blunt nails and then stepped back. “I’m not like your abomination. Stay. Be quiet. Sit.” His eyes flashed, and he leaned in so his mouth was close to my forehead. “It’s beginning to grate on my nerves.” My scalp prickled with foreboding and the fear that had taken a backseat bloomed to life in my chest, kicking up my pulse, but this was my case, my gig, and he’d have to get used to me calling the shots. I lifted my chin and looked him straight in the eyes. “You want to go inside and look at dresses? Is that it?” His lip curled, and he turned away. “I’ll wait.”

Oh, thank God. “I won’t be long.” Leaving him leaning up against his bike, I dove into the store filled with fancy outfits and expensive perfume. The money Noir had paid me was burning a hole in my back pocket. Fuck, it could have gone toward my dustkicker, and now I’d have to spend it on a bloody dress. A black midi number caught my eye. V-neck, sleeveless, in a soft material that would hug my curves, it was sexy but not indecent. It would do. The clip of heels interrupted my assessment. “Can I help you?” The tone did not match the intent in the words. In fact, the tone said, you don’t belong here. Ah, a newbie. “Nope. I’m good, thanks.” I needed one in a size ten. “Um, Miss, that is a six-hundred-dollar dress.” “Uh-huh.” I located the right size and plucked it off the rail. “Six hundred,” she repeated as I turned to face her. “How long have you worked here?” She blinked at me. “Excuse me?” I sighed. “It can’t be more than a month, because I was here a month ago, and you weren’t here, so I assume you’re new, and if you’re new then maybe Eloise hasn’t given you the talk yet.” “The talk?” “Yes, the one where she tells you to pull the

stick out of your arse and be fucking nice to the customers.” She balked. “You can’t speak to me like that.” “I just did.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Oh, God. She was really pushing my buttons now. “And I’m going to have to ask you to ring this dress up with a 50% discount.” I pulled out my VIP pass and handed it to her. She stared at the gold card, handed only to the most exclusive clientele, and then her lips twisted. “Where did you get that?” Was this chick serious? “From Eloise, who just happens to be a friend of mine.” Okay, so biker chicks probably didn’t come into Eloise’s that often. In fact, I was probably the only leather-clad, booted female who ever darkened her doorway, but a customer was a customer and her expression clearly said she believed the card to be stolen. “Wila?” Eloise came clipping across the sparkling tiles toward me like an angel of deliverance. “Hey, babe, long time!” She swept past the shop assistant in a cloud of expensive perfume and enveloped me in a huge hug. “What the heck? You haven’t called or texted for a week!” She released me with a pretty pout. I winced. “Yeah, sorry about that. I got tied up

on a case.” “Always with the cases. So, is Hannah taking good care of you today?” The stricken look on the shop assistant’s face was revenge enough for her sucky attitude, and hopefully this would be a lesson for her. “Yeah, Hannah has been great.” Hannah blinked at me in surprise, then plastered a smile on her face when Eloise beamed at her. “Oh, good. Oooo, great choice. This will look totally hot on you.” She fingered the fabric of the dress. “A date?” “You could call it that.” “Well, I want all the deets.” “Cross my heart.” She hugged me again. “I’ve got to dash. Meetings. But we have to get together soon.” She clipped away, leaving me with the sheepish-looking Hannah. “Thanks for that,” she said. I shrugged. “S’okay. I guess I do look like a scruff.” She smiled. “Actually, I love those trousers. Where did you get them?”

THE DRIVE to the border of East and North took almost forty-five minutes. Thank goodness for decent radio stations. Radio FFS was a hidden frequency station listened to by the plebs who wanted hard truth and fact, and Missy Honour was the woman to deliver them. Fast-talking, nopunches-pulled news and discussion were the order of every afternoon. As we meandered through the traffic, Missy’s dulcet tones filled the Mini with wonder and truth. “What about these Others?” an irate-sounding man asked. “They’re crawling through our streets. The Southside Hound may be gone, but there are more out there.” “And you know that for sure?” “No, but—” “But what? Scare tactics, that’s what it is. Generalization and scare tactics by the Arcana Institute to keep us in line. If we’re frightened, then they can control us, they can impose boundaries, curfews, and what do we do? We give them the power with our gratitude.” “So, you’re saying that there are no more Others in Arcana?” “I’m saying that you need to stop tarring all the Others with the same brush. I’m saying you need to take the Northside propaganda with a pinch of sea salt.” “And what about the reports of missing

homeless neph in Southside?” “Now that is something the Arcana needs to look into, because no way do I believe we can attribute that to the Others. We need to look closer to home.” I checked the rear-view mirror looking for Azren. There he was, two cars back, seated astride his mammoth of a bike. His eyes flashed bright green and seemed to lock on me, but that was impossible, right? There was no way he could actually see my reflection from that distance. He wove through the traffic until he was driving parallel to me. Eyes on the road, Wila, not on the feral Shedim’s epic profile. Up ahead, the turn-off we needed came into view, and I flipped the indicator. Azren swerved with me as we peeled off the highway onto the slip road leading to the border of Eastside. This had to be the place Tay had been talking about. We crested a rise and the Turnabout Forest came into view. It spread out below me like an ominous green stain. The forest was a paradox because it led to only one place, back into Arcana. No one knew what lay beyond the greenery because whoever went in was spat out exactly where they’d entered. The Mini hurtled down the rise and onto the flatlands bordered by shrubs and wire fencing. A dilapidated sign whizzed by and then the warehouse rose up to

our left surrounded by barren, dusty land. This landscape was Arcana melded with the prison realm. The sky above the warehouse was tinged purple and red. It reminded me of the Draconi territory vista and sent a chill up my spine. Bringing the Mini to a halt, I hopped out to meet Azren. He climbed off his bike and sauntered over, his gaze on the long two-story building ahead. His attention cut across to the forest. “What lies beyond?” he asked. I shrugged. “No one knows.” He arched a brow. “It’s called the Turnabout Forest. Anyone who goes in gets turned back around and spat out where they started.” “An enchantment?” “Or just an after-effect of your prison realm encroaching on our world.” He snorted. “Yes, because after all, everything is our fault.” There was a definite edge to his voice, but my mouth would not be stilled. “Isn’t it?” He stepped closer to me, looming over me menacingly, his shadow blocking out the sun. “You think we asked for this? You think we asked to be locked away?” I lifted my chin. “I don’t know. Draconi aren’t too open about discussing the hows and whys of their existence.”

He canted his head, his regard twin hot brands sweeping across my face. “Because neph are too busy looking for ways to control every situation, and we’re done being caged.” And yet they were confined by Treaty to the Westside. I guess they’d just escaped one prison for another, except with this one, they could see what was on offer but not take it. Azren’s head dipped until his face was mere inches from mine. “This world belonged to our kind once. We have just as much claim to it as you.” His sweet breath filled my head, leaving me strangely breathless, not just at the implications of what he was saying, but also with sensations that were wholly inappropriate. “What do you mean?” “It doesn’t matter.” “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then zip it. Spill.” He glared at me as if hoping I’d self-combust, and the strange, alluring spell was broken. I took a deliberate step back. “Look, you can hardly expect for relations to be smooth between our people if you persist in hiding shit.” He tucked in his chin as if considering my words, and when he looked up, his expression was tight with decision. “This was our world, our home, once. Before the Draconi, before man, this was our domain, and then we were ripped from it by the

creator and thrown into a dark place. A place we slowly imagined into being.” “The creator as in the big G-O-D?” He gave me a flat look. Of course, I knew God had to be a thing. After all, every neph’s existence depended on the existence of Black Wings, his fallen angels. But to hear Azren speak so casually about it really brought home the bigger picture. I made a go on gesture with my hand. “So, you imagined life into this dark place...” “Yes, and after some time, the Draconi joined us and there was war, a whole history of events, until we were liberated by Elora, who ushered in a new age of peace. We owe her a great debt. We owe her our lives.” “No offense, but Elora seems like a bit of a dick.” He shot me a hard look. “She does what she must to maintain the balance of power that ensures peace. There are horrors in the darkness beyond the boundaries of our collective imagining. Many other creatures joined us in our prison over time, monsters we hold back on a daily basis, not just to protect our people, but also to protect yours. Other creatures have taken root in the darkness we call the Everdark, creatures that found us after we were liberated.” Missy’s broadcast came to mind. “And the

Others? What do you do to protect them?” He pressed his lips together. “Every society must have its lower classes, those that are there to serve. The cogs that keep a nation functioning.” “Cogs need to be looked after, oiled, and kept in good working condition. Do you look after your cogs?” Okay, that last bit sounded weird. His throat bobbed. “Elora does the best she can.” But he didn’t sound too sure. “We should explore the area.” He set off at a brisk pace. It seemed that the discussion was over. Mind teeming with all the information he’d just thrown at me, I followed.

10

A

package was waiting for me on my desk when we returned. Wrapped in pink tissue paper and with a small white card attached which said, for saving what is most precious to me. A.N. Azren had retired to the top of the house as soon as we’d stepped through the door, but Trevor hovered by the desk. “Well? What is it?” he asked impatiently. If it was what I thought it was ... The tissue fell away to reveal the black leather fabric beneath, soft and buttery to the touch, and fuck, it smelled divine. “Whoa,” Trevor said. “You don’t buy a woman clothes unless you want what’s underneath them.” “Shut it, Trev. You’re ruining the moment.” The coat slipped on like a second skin, molding to me,

hugging me, and yeah, there was a tear in my eye, because damn, this was a thing of beauty. A cup of tea appeared on the desk, piping hot, followed by a plate of biscuits. “It looks perfect,” Gilbert said. “Have I told you I love you guys recently?” I hugged the coat to me. Trevor snorted. “I think she’s high off leather fumes.” Gilbert chuckled. I inhaled. “Just give me a moment to savor this.” “You can savor it to your heart’s content once you’ve had something to eat,” Gilbert said, forever the mother hen. I carefully peeled the coat off. “Nah. I’ve got to give it back.” “What? Why?” Trevor sounded stunned. “You’ve been saving up for this coat for months.” “Yeah. I know, but you’re right. Guys don’t buy women stuff like this unless they want something in return, and I don’t like owing favors.” “You saved his kid’s life,” Trevor pointed out. “He fucking owes you.” “I agree,” Gilbert said. “Keep the coat.” Oh, man. I really wanted to keep it. “You deserve it,” Trevor added. “I do, don’t I?” “Yes, you do.”

Man, I was so easy. “Okay.” I snatched up the coat. “You’re mine.” A thud drifted through the office door, and Trevor growled. “That demon is asking for a nip to the ankles.” “All night,” Gilbert said wearily. “He was moving around all night.” Trevor made an irritated whining sound. “Wila sleeps like the dead, she wouldn’t know.” I doubted that Gilbert slept, but Trevor did, and even if Gilbert didn’t need to sleep, it wasn’t fair for his quiet time to be interrupted by mega noise. “I’ll speak to him.” “Tell him supper will be on the table in half an hour,” Gilbert called as I slipped out of the room. “Tell him to wash his talons,” Trevor added with a snort.

A HUSH HAD FALLEN by the time I stepped onto the fourth floor, and then my jaw hit the ground as the reason for all the noise became apparent. The lounge area had been cleared out and the furniture I’d thought was beyond repair had been restored to some semblance of its past glory. A bright yellow and crimson rug covered the bare wood floor, and the windows, which had been covered in grime,

were clean enough to let the sunset stream into the room. “Azren?” My voice sounded dry and unused. How had he done all of this in one night? The door to my left was ajar and a peek proved it to be another room which had been cleaned out. The bed was neatly made, and then the sound of running water drifted through the ensuite bathroom door, which, like the bedroom door, had been left ajar. He was taking a shower. Naked. My feet took several steps forward before my brain reasserted control and halted their progress. What the heck was wrong with me? The guy was taking a shower, and I was not a voyeur. I turned to leave just as the bathroom door swung open and Azren strode into the room. His chest was bare, wet, and covered in skating droplets of water, and I was frozen, unable to tear my gaze away, unable to stop it from following those droplets as they made their way over the taut, hard planes of his body to soak into the towel that hugged his slender hips. Thank fuck for the towel. “Did you want something?” His tone was light but there was an indecipherable edge to it. I tore my gaze from the towel and dragged it back up to lock onto his face, where beads of moisture clung to his thick, dark lashes and caressed his upper lip. If he peeled those lips back, the illusion of

perfection would be broken, but something inside me, some dark, twisted thing, willed him to do just that, because the reality was suddenly more appealing than the illusion. “Wila?” My first name falling from his lips was like a caress that tugged me closer, intensifying the strange spell his half naked body had thrust on me. “Sorry. I was just coming up to ask you to keep the noise down at night, you know, the banging. But I see what you’ve done with the place and so it makes sense now and, yeah ... cool.” Shit, I was rambling. “And how do you kiss with those teeth?” His jade eyes flared bright. What the fuck? Had I just said that out loud? I held up my hands. “Sorry, I just ... I’m hungry. Supper in half an hour, okay.” I made to leave. “It’s hard to explain,” Azren said so softly I almost missed it over the pounding of my heart. I turned slowly to face him. He was closer. When had he moved closer? And why the heck wasn’t I running for the hills? His huge frame was mere inches away now, so close that I could have stood on tiptoe and licked his neck. Oh, God. Why did I want to lick his neck? He tucked in his chin, and that pretty mouth, hiding those lethal teeth, was so close that one calculated move would bring it up against mine. “I’d have to demonstrate.” His tone was even,

but the rapid rise and fall of his chest belied his calm, and then his mouth was a hairbreadth from mine, and what the fuck was I doing? Stepping back was like going against a magnetic pull, but then I was in the doorway, eyes locked on his parted mouth, on the glint of those teeth that sent a shiver of fear and want through me. His expression closed, and he blinked as if pulling himself from a dream. He turned his back to me. “Get out. I’ll be down soon.” If not for the tightness of his tone, the rigid set to his shoulders, and the fizz in my veins, I’d have believed nothing had just happened, but it had, and the fucked-up thing was, I’d wanted it to.

AZREN SET down his knife and fork and sat back with a stunned expression on his face. “So many flavors,” he said in wonder. Trev and I exchanged glances. If this was his reaction to beans on toast then goodness knew what he’d do when he tasted a sirloin steak smothered in peppercorn sauce. Gilbert was absent once again, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was avoiding the Shedim, and after what had almost happened less than half an hour ago, I was tempted to do the same.

He looked up from his plate and our gazes tangled for a brief moment. “I thought you said you didn’t need to eat,” Trev said. “But you’ve eaten eight slices of toast.” Azren fixed his attention on Trevor. “And I could eat more. In particular, small, cursed abominations.” He bared his teeth and Trev’s eyes grew round. My canine friend’s body trembled. “You took an oath.” “Not to slaughter you, yes, but I didn’t say anything about not taking a bite.” “Wila ...” Trevor looked to me for support. I shot Azren a hard look and he met it head-on, sending a bolt of awareness through me and forcing me to break the contact. I polished off my tea. “Where’s Gilbert?” “Not here,” Trevor sniffed. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was avoiding our guest.” Gilbert wasn’t an avoider. Being a ghost meant he could hang out anywhere without detection, so avoiding Azren didn’t make sense. Besides, we needed him to dig up whatever information he could on this Lex character before we walked into his den tonight. I should have mentioned it to him sooner, but the coat—the beautiful coat—had been a distraction. “—could hear you banging this morning,” Trevor said, agitated. “Some of us need our sleep.”

“And some of us don’t sleep,” Azren fired back. “Don’t sleep? You mean you wandered around all night?” “No. I watched you sleep,” Azren said snidely. If dogs could blanch, then Trevor would have been translucent. “I’ll be back in a sec.” I left Azren and Trevor to their bickering and headed off in search of Gilbert. His presence was strong in the study. The room was bathed in soft, buttery light from the many electric lamps dotted around the room. Comfy sofas were pushed up against the wall and a small desk sat in the center of the room. A fire was roaring in the grate and then a book drifted off a shelf and hovered at eye level. Yeah, Gilbert was a big guy, at least that was the impression I got. He claimed to remember nothing about his actual life. As far as he was concerned, he’d always been here, in this house. “What’s going on, Gilbert?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been avoiding Azren.” He drifted across the room. Or at least I thought he did. Gilbert rarely manifested, and on the odd occasion he did, it was barely for a split second, enough for me to get an indication of his height and

powerful frame. He was an older dude, probably in his late thirties, but that was all I’d gleaned. “Gilbert?” I pressed. “I’m sorry, Wila. He just makes me feel strange.” “Strange?” “I can’t explain it. Being in the same room as him makes me feel ... odd.” Odd. Okay. “Can you elaborate?” “I wish I could. I just don’t feel comfortable around him.” “Okay, I get that. There are people I don’t feel comfortable hanging out with. It could be the same for ghosts. I mean, you were a person once. But can you please try? For me? We need information on a dude called Lex who owns an exclusive club called the Petting Zoo.” A beat of silence. “The name does ring a bell. I can do a search now.” “Please. And then can you brief us? We’re headed there at midnight tonight.” “You and the Shedim?” “Yes.” A long beat of silence. “Of course.” “Thank you, Gilbert.” His presence retreated across the room toward the old PC which I’d had installed and connected to the infoweb a few years ago. The man was a genius when it came to finding tidbits of information. If

there was anything about Lex in the archives, then he’d find it.

A POT of tea sat on my desk, and Azren had taken up the small two-seater sofa parked up against the far wall by the filing cabinets that were really only for show, because who the heck kept files and paper invoices anyway? The Shedim’s posture was relaxed, but the set of his shoulders told a different story. This creature, this demon, never let his guard down. Not unless he was almost kissing someone ... What kind of life was that? Gilbert hovered by my side. His agitation was like a heat signature searing the side of my arm. Guilt spiked in my chest, but I tamped it down. Azren was going to be working with us for as long as it took to apprehend the rogue Shedim, and we all needed to get along, to be able to function as a team. Trevor liked to play gatekeeper and receptionist, and yeah, sometimes he dropped awesome bombs with regards to investigative tips. The stroppy canine had become a part of the furniture, but Gilbert was vital to the team. He was much more than a glorified librarian. He’d filled a hole in my heart with his paternal presence and the

endless chats over cups of tea. Truth be told, the thought of Azren and him not getting along made my chest tighten with apprehension. The world around us was often unpredictable and chaotic, but that chaos was left at the door. This was my haven, my safe place, and there could be no disruption here. Azren’s gaze scanned the room. He could sense Gilbert but not pinpoint his location. Beside me, Gilbert’s energy smoothed out as he relaxed. “What have you got for us, Gilbert?” I kept my gaze ahead, giving no clue as to where Gilbert was standing. Anonymity wasn’t an option for Gilbert, but I’d give him this much. “I didn’t find too much. The man is, for want of a better word, a ghost.” Gilbert’s voice echoed around the room, a little trick he’d used only the first time we’d met. It made it impossible to know where in the room he was, but Azren’s gaze zoned straight in on the point beside me. “What are you?” Azren asked. There was a beat of silence in which Gilbert’s agitation was like a siren pealing inside my mind. “Gilbert’s a ghost,” Trevor provided. Azren’s eyes narrowed. “Really?” Gooseflesh broke out across my skin. Azren unfurled his body and stood. He sauntered across the room but stopped on the other

side of my desk. He’d be eye to eye with Gilbert now, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he could see my friend even if we couldn’t. There was silence, long and pregnant, and like hell could I tear my gaze from the curve of Azren’s jaw. “A ghost,” Azren said finally. “We have no ghosts where I come from. Death leaves nothing behind.” He retook his seat and it was as if the room breathed a sigh of relief. “There isn’t much in the media about Lex Hunter.” Gilbert’s tone was strained as he continued. “The paper trail on him is sparse. Just the purchase of the warehouse five years ago and then a small mention of the opening of the Petting Zoo almost a year later.” “Do we know what kind of neph he is?” Trevor asked from his spot on the chair by my desk. “No. I could find no birth records for him, no mention of any club antics. It’s as if there is a media blackout where he is concerned.” I sat back in my seat. “And the fact that membership to his club is via invitation only would explain why I haven’t heard of him until now. We’re essentially going in blind.” “I’m sorry, Wila,” Gilbert said. “Don’t be. If there’s nothing to find, then there’s nothing to find. We’ll just have to wing it.” I grinned. “Just as well, winging it happens to be my forte.”

“I find that a man who wishes to hide is usually running from something,” Azren said. His gaze had gravitated back to the spot where Gilbert stood. “Or he may just value his privacy,” Gilbert retorted. Trevor snorted. “None of this helps Wila, and she can’t even take another dose of luck, not so soon after the first dose.” Yeah, luck was addictive. More than two doses in six months and you’d find yourself hooked. Although I’d technically only taken one dose, Barnaby was unlikely to believe that; after all, an addict will say anything to get another hit, and for some patrons, two hits was enough to be hooked. Azren was staring at me with a question on his face. “What?” “You have luck potions?” he asked. Shit, Barnaby’s creations were on a need-toknow basis. Only the select clientele knew what he could cook up. This wasn’t information that needed to get back to Elora. I clapped my hands and stood. “It’s going to be a long night. I’m gonna nap and then get ready. I’ll meet you down here at ten-thirty.” Successfully avoiding the issue of the luck potions, I escaped up to the third floor and my pink-infested bedchamber. My bed was an investment in comfort—sleep was an important

commodity for the likes of me, who sometimes barely squeezed in a couple of hours when running a case. The mattress cradled me, and my eyes fluttered closed. Azren’s face appeared in my mind’s eyes, his lips to be precise, way too close and enticing. Fuck this. It had been months since my last sexual encounter. A woman had needs, and when this case was over, I’d make sure those needs were met. As if satisfied with this promise, my brain finally agreed to shut down, and sleep did its claiming thing.

THE DRESS FIT LIKE A GLOVE— A very sexy, slinky glove. It was meant to be a midi but there was way too much leg on show. Black tights it was. Better. Boots? No, that looked way too dominatrix. Heels would do—my favorite two-inch block heels. Oh, man. Let’s hope there was no running or kickassery on the menu tonight. My hair was sleek and shiny from the wash, blow dry, and quick swipe with the hair straightener. A slick of mascara, a little gloss, and yeah, it was almost time to head out. My stomach fluttered with nerves. Chill, this isn’t a real night out. It had been six months since one of those. Eloise and I had painted the town

purple with our crazy exploits. Good times. This was work, and my colleague was waiting. There was something about the click of heels that made everything seem that much more feminine. And the look on Azren’s face as I walked down the steps was enough to complete the picture. Any doubts I’d had about how good I looked flew out the window and perched in the tree outside. He recovered quickly, his expression smooth as glass. But by that time it was my turn to check him out, with his combed-back tresses and piercing eyes, and the way that shirt hugged his torso was criminal. And damn, if he turned around and I got a look at that ass in those trousers, I’d need a bloody hanky to mop up the ... drool, you dirty fucker. Drool. My heels hit the foyer and he towered over me, enveloping me in his shadow and scent. “Well, isn’t this civilized,” a voice drawled. The dragon prince watched us from the office doorway. He was dressed casually in a cream shirt and jeans. The sleeves were rolled up, the top button undone, and his chestnut hair was tousled. Longer than I recalled, it curled under his ears. He blinked slowly, almost as if it was an afterthought, something he did to appear more human. I dropped my gaze to his mouth—better that than his soulsucking peepers.

When the heck had he turned up and who’d let him in? It was almost eleven at night. “What are you doing here?” My voice was a breathy whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It’s a little late for a social call.” Valance scanned me from tip to toe, lingering in places that made my heart slam in my throat and irritation rise up in my chest. “Hey! Eyes up here.” I snapped my fingers by my face. Azren growled low and menacing and Valance’s brows shot up. “Well, hello. The dog has a spine. It looks like you’ve done something to earn father’s favorite pup’s loyalty.” He smirked suggestively. “I wonder what ...” I hadn’t done anything to earn Azren’s loyalty, and from the look on Azren’s face, he was just as shocked by his reaction as Valance was. “I didn’t peg you for a gutter brain.” I crossed my arms under my chest, realizing what a defensive gesture it was, and how it pushed my boobs up, but what the heck, it made me look unafraid and that’s all that mattered. “What do you want, Valance?” “I was hoping for a thank you, maybe a gentle stroll down the promenade?” “Funny.” His expression hardened and so did his tone. “You owe me, Miss Bastion. I saved your life.” I swallowed. “Yes. I know you did. But what I

don’t know is why.” He graced me with a slow blink. “I have a thing for fuck-me eyes.” My stomach flipped. “Seriously? That’s your response?” He touched his top teeth with his tongue and then he pouted and shrugged. “Does it matter?” “Of course it matters. If I’ve learned anything in my short twenty-five years it’s that nothing in this world comes for free.” His face cracked in an amiable grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re wise for your years, Miss Bastion. It’s reassuring. But there’s no agenda. I simply wasn’t in the mood for an execution. Besides, if Mother had eaten you, I’m pretty sure you’d have given her indigestion.” “Why? Because I smell odd?” “Exactly.” “So, why are you here? Really.” He placed his hand on his heart. “I missed our witty repartee.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, thank you for saving my life. Unfortunately, I don’t have time for witty repartee. Now, if we’re done here, I have a job to do.” “And what kind of job are you going to do in a dress like that?” Once again his gaze was a little too appreciative. “If I didn’t hope to know better, I’d assume you were taking my mother’s pet on a

date.” The primal, visceral fear of him that was thrumming under my skin was overshadowed by indignation on Azren’s behalf. “You’re on my side of the border now, Mr. Drako, and Azren is nobody’s pet, he’s my employee. So either show some damn respect or get the fuck out of my office.” His mouth parted in surprise and a wicked sense of satisfaction flared in my chest, but it was followed closely by a sick sensation in the pit of my stomach. I was poking the bear, prodding the fucking beast, and yeah, it was unlikely he’d lash out at me right now, right here, but at some point soon, I’d be back on his side of the border. And from the look on his striking face, he was perfectly aware of all this. “Look, Valance, I—” “My apologies for the neph’s outburst, Prince Drako.” Azren cut me off, stepping between us. “She has proven to be headstrong with very little impulse control. Please excuse her tone and my outburst.” Valance’s eyes were on me, though, electric and primal. Azren’s back rippled and his body prepared for action. But what would he do against a dragon prince? What would he do against his master? Valance’s mouth twitched and the tension bled out of the room. “Where are you going, Miss

Bastion?” His tone was amiable once more, but it was clear he wouldn’t back down without an answer. I moved closer to Azren, absorbing the heat of his body. “Information gathering, Mr. Drako, and we don’t want to be late. If there’s nothing else ...” Valance inclined his head. “No. Nothing for now. Just report back to me tomorrow.” “I thought I was supposed to report to your mother at the next full moon.” “It is possible to do both.” There was no arguing with that tone. I touched Azren’s arm lightly, and he moved aside, allowing me to clip toward the front door. Not checking to see if Azren was with me, I stepped out into the crisp night air as a car across the road slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing hitting a young woman. The horn blared angrily, and the woman glanced over her shoulder, her face a delicate, pale smudge, and then she was gone. A cold blast of air shot up my skirt. Dammit. I should have grabbed my dustkicker. I turned to head back in, but Azren blocked my path, something clutched in his hand. “You’ll need this,” Azren said gruffly before shoving my jacket at me. “Aw, who knew you cared.” “I don’t. I just need you fit and healthy to do your job.” “Way to burst my bubble. Is he gone?” I slipped

on the soft leather dustkicker, sighing as it fell into place as if it was made for me. “Yes. He vanished once you left the room.” “He did what?” Azren sighed. “There is much for you to learn about the Draconi. The first being that you must not antagonize them. They lash out first and ask for clarification later. You’re lucky my liege needs you or the prince may not have been so lenient with you in light of your insolence.” “You don’t need to fight my battles. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He exhaled through his nose. “No. No, you’re not. Not when it comes to my people.” The fight bled out of me. He was right. There were too many unknown variables when it came to my new boss and his world. “Fine. I’ll be more careful.” But Azren was no longer listening to me. His gaze was fixed over my shoulder. “You have a flat tire. You’ll ride with me.” “What?” I spun to check out Mini, and sure enough, the front tire closest to the curb was flat. Shit, I didn’t even have a spare. I’d used the spare a couple of months ago on the same damn tire. Urgh. Azren was already astride his bike. He glanced across at me. “Get on.” So much for styling my bloody hair. Gathering it up into a pony, I snapped a band around it and then

clipped over to the bike. “I swear, if you get me killed, I’ll haunt you to the end of days.” “If you are killed on my watch then there will be no one for you to haunt. Elora will end me for failing her, and there is nothing for the untethered after death.” He was talking about the fact that he didn’t have a mate, that Elora would never let him have one. A fist tightened in my chest, helmet forgotten. I opened my mouth to say something, but snapped it closed again, because what the heck could I say? The engine revved and then purred. I held on for dear life, contact in all the right places, and then we were streaming into the night.

11

T

he warehouse, which had seemed dead in the daylight, was alight with life. The windows glowed softly and the car park was littered with fancy cars. Elaborately dressed patrons streamed in, men all suited up and women dressed to the nines in hug-the-life-out-of-you dresses and break-your-ankle heels. My dress, which seemed so OTT earlier, was suddenly not dressy enough, and don’t even get me started on my baby heels. Compared to these women, I was a drudge. Pulling the tie from my hair, I fluffed it up a little. We’d parked a good distance from the entrance, no choice really, the place was rammed, but the brisk walk would get the blood flowing through my limbs again. Bikes were really not my thing. Azren joined me in giving the place a once over,

and then the crunch of boots signaled the arrival of Tay and Mack. They’d parked their bikes next to Azren’s and flanked us now, their huge frames casting me in shadow. Bikes seemed to be the transport of choice, and if Azren’s bike was a monster, then Tay’s bike was its mum. The familiar spicy scent of Tay’s cologne tickled my nostrils. I’d been up close and personal with that body. I’d licked the scent off his neck, his torso, and other places. Those hard lips had claimed mine and those hands had ... Oh, man. Stop. My neck heated. The troll dude always had this effect on me, now even more so because we’d actually done the horizontal tango, and I knew exactly what I was missing. Taylem leaned in, his voice a rumble in my ear. “You look good, Wila. Real fucking good.” Fuck. That deep, quiver-inducing voice always sent a bolt of awareness through me. Damn, if not for the whole troll-mating-instinct thing, I’d be all over him again, but Tay didn’t do casual, and commitment was something that only my clients got —commitment to the case, to the job. Relationships were a different breed, and my heart was something that would remain shielded indefinitely, because the one thing I’d learned growing up was that hearts were fragile, and if you loaned them out, nine times out of ten, they got trampled on and broken. I’d seen it too many times, and the thought of taking

that leap broke me out in a cold sweat. Love was asking for trouble, but like? Like was doable, and I really, really liked Taylem. I exhaled and smiled up at him, making sure to keep it friendly but not intimate. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” The heat in his eyes died. “Thanks, but this isn’t really my style.” He hooked an index finger into the collar of his shirt and tugged as if to illustrate his point. Yeah, the big guy might look sexy in his fancy getup, but he did not look at ease. His shirt strained across his muscular torso, and the trousers hugged his ass like it was a peach. I’d climbed that mountain, and he was looking at me as if he was ready for me to take another hike. I guess my friendly smile hadn’t been enough, and that hot look he was giving me was melting my resolve. Mack gently gripped my elbow, bringing me back to earth with a bump as he steered me away from Tay and Azren and into the queue forming at the entrance to the exclusive club. “Wila can be my plus one,” he called over his shoulder. “You can bring Azren.” Azren looked unfazed, but Taylem’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. A red rope barrier had been set up, and two hulking males manned the doors—hair slicked back, fancy suits and boots, the works. They looked

expensive and dangerous. “You can’t go there again,” Mack said softly. There was no need to ask what he was talking about. “I know. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” Mack winced. “Mistake probably isn’t the best word to use around him.” Oh, crap. “You know what I mean.” “Yeah. You guys have chemistry, I get that, but this is serious for Tay. You know how things work for us. There is no almost. It’s all or nothing.” He glanced over his shoulder. Tay and Azren were a few bodies back. “I’m not mad at you. I warned Tay. I saw the way he looked at you, and I warned him to be careful. You’re not one of us. You’re not governed by the same needs and instincts. Once we get hooked, it’s painful if the object of our affection doesn’t feel the same way; it’s why we usually stick to other troll bloods.” I’d fucked up all right. I’d acted without thinking things through, and that just wasn’t a done thing when it came to my friends. I looked Mack straight in the eye. “It won’t happen again. I promise.” He nodded curtly. “Good.” And then we were at the front of the queue and the mammoth bouncer glanced at Mack’s silver disc invitation and waved us through. Darkness swallowed us for a moment, total and absolute. Mack’s hand on the small of my back was the only

grounding element, and then the world lit up with silvery light and a deep bass beat pummeled my eardrums. But the sound and the light from a thousand twinkling stars up ahead were nothing compared to the intricacy of the actual club itself. The whole structure was a labyrinth. Walkways floated above more walkways that shifted and moved, controlled by huge golden cogs. People above us, people below and in between, and suspended on moving circular platforms were golden cages, each housing a creature the likes of which I’d never seen before. “You look like you’ve never seen an Other before,” a rough voice said in my ear. I jerked away from the heat of the stranger’s mouth and ended up looking into the predatory eyes of a Lupin. God, I hated these fuckers. Hairy and hung and unable to take no for an answer, Eloise and I liked to call them. Although this Lupin wasn’t living up to the hung part. His pack closed in around me. Yeah, these fuckers liked to share, and where the heck was Mack? I smiled tightly as my assessment of the exclusive club took a nosedive. He inhaled. “You’re in heat, lady. Been a while, hasn’t it?” His tone was all coaxing and sympathetic. Cue lash flutter and simper. “Oh, God. Sooo long.” I glanced deliberately down at his dick and

winced. “But sorry, you’re gonna need more than that to get me off.” One of the other Lupin made a strangled sound that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter, and little dick’s head whipped round to spear him with a snarl. Time to make a quick exit. “Wila.” Mack appeared at my side. “Where’d you go?” “Where’d you go? I just got propositioned by a naked, hairy Lupin.” Mack’s face drained of color. “Was he short and not as well-endowed as the average Lupin?” “Yep, and I told him so ... And why do you look like you’re about to be sick?” “That’s Justin, alpha of the Opal pack.” “Just-in?” He shook his head, his lips twitching. “Seriously, don’t. It’s not funny. Justin’s fucking crazy, like seriously insane, it’s the only reason he’s managed to hold on to alpha status for as long as he has. No Lupin in his pack will go up against him. The wolf is a maniac.” “And this Lex Hunter invited them to be members of his exclusive club?” “Politics, babe. Opal pack controls the import and export of goods and services between pockets that choose to do business with us. Justin runs the Arcana Opal pack, but there are several other Opal

packs dotted around in neighboring pockets. Lex is just keeping them sweet. Shame he has to cozy up to Justin to do it, though.” He sighed. “Look, just try not to cross paths with him again for a while, okay. He doesn’t forget or forgive easily, and he’s particularly sensitive about his ... bits.” “Yeah, well, if he’s gonna shove them in people’s faces, then ...” “You know Lupin don’t do clothes.” “Yeah, I’ve seen them in the frozen aisle at the supermarket. Not pretty.” Mack hooked an arm through mine and tugged me past a couple of silver-haired dudes. “You and your smart mouth.” “Those creatures in the cages aren’t really Others, are they?” “Yeah, I know. I was shocked when I first encountered them too. Not what I thought Others would look like.” “It isn’t. I took one out the other day and trust me, he was not pretty. He had big, scary, tear-yourface-off teeth.” “The Southside Hound?” “You heard about that?” “Everyone heard about that. It was all over Radio FFS, with Missy Honour reminding everyone not to generalize. I swear, that woman knows more than she’s letting on.” God, yes. I’d caught some of that broadcast.

“I guess Others come in all shapes and sizes just like us nephs,” Mack said. A shoulder nudge shoved me off balance, sending me hurtling toward the edge of the walkway. Mack grabbed my arm, hauling me back just in time. Heart in my mouth, I clung to my friend. “These walkways are way too narrow.” “Don’t worry, you can’t fall off. There’s some powerful enchantments holding this place together, not to mention some hardcore Kelter Enterprise technology.” My brows shot up. Kelter tech was super expensive and extremely cutting-edge. Who the heck was this Lex guy? My gaze snagged on the cage closest to us where a doe-eyed female with peacock feathers for hair sat on a swing swaying gently while preening her plumage. Another cage to our left contained a male, slender and cat-eyed. He lay stretched out on plush fabric, his golden, naked body on display for the world to see, and damn, did people stop to stare. A neph female reached into the cage and ran her hand over the Other’s skin, her fingers grazing his manhood. He arched his back and purred, growing hard and making her shriek with delight. “What the fuck, Mack?” He looked sheepish. “It’s not my cup of tea, but the Northsiders love it.”

“And what about the Others in the cages? Do they love it?” “They’re here willingly, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. Trust me, when we first came here we weren’t impressed and Tay made some enquiries. He spoke to Lex directly. The Others are here of their own free will. This is just a job for them.” “And what do the Arcana Institute think of that? Do these Others have clearance to be on this side of the border? Have they been processed?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d need to speak to Lex about that, but trust me, if you want his help, you do not want to piss him off.” Did the Institute even know this breed of Other existed? All the information on Others spoke of mindless beasts that lurked in the shadows. I’d taken out a few, and the patrol had picked up several, but no one mentioned creatures like this. Did Fran even know about them? Azren and Tay joined us a moment later. They looked good side by side, two powerful men dressed to impress in well-cut clothes, and although I knew Tay well enough to know he still wasn’t at ease, he was doing a damn good job of faking it. Azren, on the other hand, reminded me of a jaguar on the prowl, his eerie jade eyes sweeping the partygoers, looking for prey. The dagger at his waist peeked out from beneath his neatly cut jacket.

Strange the bouncers hadn’t noticed that? Or had he glamoured it to get through the doors? A male neph carrying a tray of drinks swept past. Taylem grabbed a glass and drained it. A woman sashayed past and ran a hand across Tay’s chest as if he were a statue on display. “No,” Tay said shortly. The woman shrugged, her gaze flicking to Azren enquiringly. The Shedim bared his teeth, and her face blanched. She backed up, spun on her heel, and slipped into the crowd. I guess she wasn’t looking to live on the dangerous side. A snippet of conversation caught my ear, the female voice all breathless and eager. “—should go underground. They say that’s where they hide. We could capture our own pretties.” “Shut it, Dina. Even the fucking cogs have ears in here, and if Lex finds out ... just shut it.” I turned to Tay. “What the fuck is this place?” “A den for carnal exploits,” Azren said simply, sans wince at my curse word this time. “I can smell sex on the air.” I glanced from Azren to Taylem. The troll neph’s lips turned down in distaste. “Things can happen here if you want them to. Most here are open to liaisons of the carnal kind.” Of course, now it made sense why he hated this place. For him, carnal relations led to lifetime

commitment. This must be so distasteful. Shame Lex hadn’t done his homework on the twins, unless this was just a political invite, like the one extended to the Opal pack. The Stephenson twins were pretty influential in the pleb community, with ties to the Northside decision-making council. “We have places like this in Draconi,” Azren said. “Except we are more honest about their purpose. We do not dress them up in finery to delude ourselves into thinking they are anything more than dens of depravity. If we wish to fuck, then we fuck.” “You go to those places?” The question just popped from my lips. “Not that I care, just curious.” He glanced down at me, his gaze speculative. “Never mind.” I held up a hand. “None of my business.” “I fucking hate this place,” Tay said. “Do what you have to so we can get the fuck out.” He looked up and lifted his chin. “There’s Lex. Take the stairs as they swing past.” “What?” A set of metal steps moved into my line of vision to the right. I made a grab for them and missed. Azren’s arm slid around my waist, and my heels left the ground as he launched us into the air. The world was a momentary blur, and then he landed easily on the platform above. He held on to

me for a beat longer, long enough for me to feel the thud of his heart through my palm and inhale his heady, unique aroma that reminded me of the world after a storm. “You can fly?” My voice came out hoarse and raspy. His gaze fell to my mouth. “No, but I can jump high.” The corner of his mouth quirked. Had the stoic demon just made a joke? “Now that’s what I call an entrance,” a gravelly voice said. Azren carefully lowered me to the ground, then focused on the speaker. I touched his arm and took a step forward to face the imposing man. Slender, tall, with sharp, inquisitive features topped off with a neatly clipped goatee beard. Lex Hunter oozed power as if his body was heaving with it. The stench of magic was strong on him, and his blackerthan-obsidian irises had my pulse skipping several beats as those eyes set off a multitude of alarm bells. Then he blinked and the darkness was gone, leaving me staring into hazel flecked with gold. What the heck? “Lex Hunter?” The man arched a brow. “Miss Wilomena Bastion.” “You know me?” His lips curled in a half smile. “I make it my business to know all the players in Arcana City.” “Players?”

His smile was covert. “Oh, come now, don’t be coy. A woman who can steal from the dragon liege and live should surely know her worth.” The nephs within earshot began to murmur amongst themselves. Oh, great. The last thing I needed was this rumor getting back to Elora. The fact that a relative nobody could infiltrate her Keep and get to her hoard was just bad publicity. She’d have my head just to prove a point. I winced. “Maybe don’t spread that little fact around?” Lex cast a glance over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. It seems I’ve set tongues wagging.” He held a hand to his mouth in an oops gesture. A diamond glinted at his ear, giving him a roguish air. “Come, let’s walk, it will make it harder for the flapping ears to keep track of what, I am certain, will be a most interesting conversation.” He set off, the heels of his boots clipping on the walkway. “So, what can I do for you, Miss Bastion?” “If I’m one of the players, then how come I didn’t get an invite?” Okay, that wasn’t what I’d meant to ask, but now the question was out ... He paused at a balcony and leaned up against it. His collar dipped, and I caught a flash of ink, dark and intricate, but then my gaze was pulled to a cage on a platform less than a meter from the balcony, and my breath caught at the sight of the creature

inside. It was a male with beautifully androgynous features. His slender body was draped in silken fabric, and rainbow tresses cascaded down his back. He locked gazes with me for a moment and then opened his mouth and began to sing. My heart lurched up into my throat with a kind of twisted need that made me weak at the knees. “Leopold,” Lex said. “He truly is a wonder. His voice can soothe the darkest of souls.” The Others I’d tangled with had been nothing like these, not intelligent beings, not humanoid. They’d been beasts, intent only on consumption. “What is he? What are these Others?” Lex’s smile was soft. “Butterflies, Miss Bastion. The ones in my employ are the butterflies of His divine creation, or so they have come to believe, and as perception shapes us, so has it shaped them.” “Whose perception?” Lex blinked across at me. “Why, everyone’s, of course. Trust me, Miss Bastion, in this city filled with wolfmen, bloodsuckers, and shadowy creatures, these Others are the least of our worries.” He canted his head. “There are different breeds of Others roaming the night, of course.” He smiled, showcasing even, white teeth. “You’ve tangled with them. The hungry ones. The lost ones. Driven to wreak chaos merely to survive. It’s hardly their fault they’ve been left with nowhere to

call their own. You call them monsters, but it is us, the neph, who are the real monsters here.” He turned away from the cage. “Your VIP disc is being prepared as we speak. Your dragon coup has impressed me, Miss Bastion. I believe you may be ready.” “Ready for what?” “Patience for a little while longer. In the meantime, it’s a pleasure to have you with us as a regular. Although, if my enquiries are correct, I’m pretty certain you’re not here to use the facilities and—” “You’re exploiting these Others,” Azren interrupted abruptly. Lex’s attention cut to my companion, and his hazel eyes bled to black again. “And the Draconi and Shedim don’t?” The emphasis on the word Shedim sent a bolt of apprehension up my spine. He knew what Azren was? How the heck? Lex’s lip curled. “At least here these Others are given a roof above their heads and a fair wage for their efforts. At least here they’re asked for their consent. They only fuck if they want to.” Azren tensed, ready to go off in defense of his precious dragon liege, but Lex was right. Draconi sucked, and if we wanted Lex’s help, then antagonizing him was not the key. “Look, we didn’t come here to question your

business practices.” I waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure all the Others have been cleared by The Collective’s Others Immigration Office and—” “No,” Lex said. “These Others are under my protection. I may not be able to save them all, but I’ll shelter as many as I can.” Wait, the Others were here illegally? “Shelter? You do realize that they need to be quarantined and cleared of any diseases before they can be integrated into our society.” “Like your pet Shedim here? Or the Draconi ambassadors? Do they get quarantined?” Okay, he had a point, but … “There’s a process. The Collective is simply trying to help the immigrants and keep the existing neph on this side of the border safe.” Lex’s eyes narrowed and then his chest heaved with a sigh. “Your exploits into Draconi territory have caused me to misjudge you. I believe I may have jumped the gun, as you call it. Don’t bother looking out for that VIP disc. It won’t be coming.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means that you’re walking around with your eyes shut, Miss Bastion, and until you open them, you won’t truly belong anywhere.” “Oh, I have my eyes shut? What about all these Northsiders you’ve invited into your little club? How enlightened are they?” His lips twisted in an ironic smile. “They don’t

need to be enlightened, Miss Bastion. They’re merely here to fuck.” He turned away. “Come see me once you can actually see.” What the heck had just happened? I looked to Azren, but his gaze was fixed on the dagger hilt strapped to his waist. Was it glowing? No, it had to be the lights reflecting off it. Azren looked up, his jaw tight, and then he pushed past me, making a beeline for Lex’s back. “Where are they? Where are the rogue Shedim?” Lex paused. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Shedim. I suggest you leave now before I have you thrown out. There is no place for your kind here. Your presence is an insult to the Others under my protection, and I’ve forced them to endure it long enough.” Lex began to walk away, but Azren wasn’t done. He followed and grabbed the neph’s shoulder. The next few seconds were a blur as Lex whirled round and slammed a hand into Azren’s chest. But wait, no, had he made contact? That bit was fuzzy, but Azren flying across the walkway was pretty clear. He hit the ground but was up and barreling toward Lex in an instant. Someone screamed and the walkway erupted into chaos. “Stop!” I stepped in front of Lex, hands out. “Enough.” “Why how chivalrous of you, Miss Bastion,” Lex said smoothly. “Now get the fuck out of my

club.”

W E DIDN ’ T BUMP into Tay or Mack on the way out, but a quick text informed them that we’d been booted. Outside, the night air was like a hearty slap, clearing my fuzzy head and bringing everything that had just happened into focus. The main point being that we’d fucked up so hard we hadn’t even gotten to ask him the questions we’d come to ask. Dammit. Azren strode ahead and then stopped, whirling to face me. “The dagger was glowing. I saw it. He’s hiding something.” “I don’t know, Azren. He seems to really hate Shedim. Why would he protect them? You heard what he said about Others and how the Draconi and the Shedim are all bastards.” “He doesn’t understand anything. It’s just the way things have always been,” Azren said. “What?” “The Others. The Shedim, the Draconi, and the creatures that roam the Everdark. It is the order of things. It is how we survive. Every creature has its place.” There was real conflict in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself, not educate me. “Just

because it’s always been that way doesn’t mean it should be.” He ran a hand through his hair. “They look brighter here. Alive. In Draconi territory, they are all shades of gray.” “Who? The Others?” “Yes.” He looked torn. “I never knew ... never knew they could be so beautiful.” “They’re all so pretty.” He pressed his lips together. “Yes. The ones that the Draconi employ for pleasure are beautiful, nothing like the ones you hunt. But even these beautiful creatures were considered a mistake by the creator. He made many mistakes before he finally created man. The Shedim were his first creation meant to occupy this earth, but we weren’t good enough. It wasn’t long before he sent his shades, his precious assassins and guardians, to reap us from this world and force us into the dark place. I wonder why he didn’t just smite us all.” He sounded forlorn, almost bitter, and words spilled from my lips. “My friend Eloise would make dresses, and some would turn out awful, but she could never bear to just bin them. She kept them in a trunk under her bed. She said they reminded her of her creative journey and that they’d always mean something to her simply because of the joy she’d experienced while creating them.” His throat bobbed. He was looking at me too

intently. My neck grew hot. “Did Lex hit you? I mean, did you feel him make contact?” Azren frowned. “I felt a blow.” “I wasn’t sure, it happened so fast it almost looked like he used Arcana magic.” But only Arcana users could tap into that kind of power; all other magic required physical elements like herbs or runes or blood. Arcana users were the only nephs able to tap directly into the magic in our atmosphere. They were walking, talking conduits, each able to manipulate it in a different way. Some bonded it to the moisture in the air, others to heat, some used the electrical charge in the atmosphere, and there were those who could do it all but in small doses. There were always limits. Using Arcana was exhausting and required stamina. If Lex was Arcana, it would explain why the Arcana Institute left him alone, and why he had so much influence. Azren had gone very still and very silent. “Um, are you okay?” And then my gaze fell to his waist, to the dagger glowing softly. “Shit.” He looked up at me, his chest heaving in anticipation, and then the dagger blazed to life. Azren broke into a run.

12

A

zren moved like the wind, but there was no leaving me behind. Speed was one of my neph perks, and years of chasing bad guys had honed that particular skill. Thanks, Mum or Dad, not sure which, but not knowing where I came from didn’t bother me anymore. Not having a heritage allowed some serious invention, and yeah, that was always fun on a night out. Azren leapt over a car. I was good but not that good. Adjusting my trajectory to skirt around it, I finally caught a flash of the shadowy figure we were pursuing, and it was fucking huge. “Stop in the name of Drako!” The dagger was in Azren’s hand, ready to fling, and then something slammed into his side, knocking him off his feet. Not on my watch. My shoulder smashed into the figure, knocking

it back several steps. The Shedim stumbled and her eyes went wide, but then her hand was around my neck, squeezing. My throat closed up, eyes burning, fingernails raking at skin that seemed to have no give. And then that maw—that horrific razor-filled maw—lunged at my face. There was no air to scream. The world was going black. Dagger, my dagger ... under my skirt, couldn’t reach it. The Shedim female was ripped away, and my airway was suddenly free. Sweet, potent oxygen rushed into my lungs. My knees hit the ground, black spots dancing before my eyes. A scuffle and a grunt. Had to help. Dagger in hand, I pulled myself up and rushed the grappling demons, intent on taking a slice out of the bitch who’d almost crushed my windpipe. “Stay back.” Azren shoved me, sending me skidding across the ground. His dagger whistled as it cut through the air, and the woman jerked back just in time to avoid a slice to the chest. She backed up and snapped her wrist, and a glowing whip unfurled with a crack. Azren leapt out of the way, rolled, and came up, bringing the dagger up for a swipe. The woman screamed but was knocked out of the way by another figure before the dagger could bite. Azren made a sound of triumph as the male Shedim vanished in a puff of smoke.

“No!” The woman’s face contorted in tearful rage, and then the space where she’d been blurred. Azren made another swipe at her with the dagger, but she was gone. Colorful words that sounded like curses fell from Azren’s lips. He ran forward, the dagger held aloft, but the pretty glow was gone. “You got one, right?” My voice came out as a croak. He nodded. “Yes, but one got away and now she will warn the rest.” He set off toward the warehouse. “We have to go back and question Lex. He knows where they are.” My throat ached and pinched. “Whoa, wait up. I don’t think he has anything to do with this.” He spun to face me. “The dagger was glowing in the club.” He held it aloft. “It doesn’t glow for nothing.” “Ookay. That just means there was a Shedim nearby, it doesn’t mean that Lex knew about it.” “He recognized what I was.” “Because we went face to face with him.” He made a sound of exasperation and then gripped me by the shoulders, hauling me off the ground so we were face to face. “Why are you defending him?” His face was too close, that lethal mouth twisted in fury. “Are you working with him? Is this some kind of ploy to stall me?” My ire rose, turning my vision crimson at the

edges. “Put me the fuck down, or I swear I’ll find a way to hurt you.” We remained locked in a battle of wills: his fingers digging into my shoulders, my heels two feet off the ground, gazes locked in a who’s-going-toblink-first stance, and then he closed his eyes, cutting off the jade glare and letting go of me. I hit the dirt, body trembling with the aftershocks of the adrenaline rush. Slowly, deliberately, so as not to buckle, I pulled myself to my feet. “This is what I do. I read people, I solve cases, and we’re wasting our time here. Lex isn’t going to speak to us, and we can’t make him, and you need to calm the fuck down.” Azren hung his head, hands on hips. “You think I’m weak. You think he can best me.” Was that what this was about? Some kind of pissing contest? “Cut the macho bullshit. This isn’t about weak or strong, it’s about playing it smart. Lex could be an invaluable ally at some point, but not if we piss him off. I understand you want this over. I get that you just want to go home, but we need to be smart about this. Use our heads. This is my name, my reputation on the line. We do this my way. Got it?” He exhaled through his nose, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to rein in his emotions. “So, what do you suggest we do?” The snippet of conversation I’d overheard came

to mind. “I think we should check the Underground.” His brow furrowed. “I overheard some woman in the club talking. She mentioned how the Others hide underground ... Maybe the Shedim have the same idea, or maybe one of the Others might have heard something.” “You think they’ll speak to us, a neph and a Shedim—one of the people that wish to quarantine them and one of those that has oppressed them in the name of Drako?” He had a point. “We don’t have a choice. These rogue Shedim could upset the balance of Arcana, and if the Institute and The Collective find out, then there’ll be a huge purge that will also affect the Others.” I crossed my arms. “It’s in their longterm best interests to help us get rid of the Shedim before the higher authorities discover the truth.” “Fine. How do we access this Underground?” “We need to head Southside. The stations there are boarded up but not as thoroughly as the ones on East and Northside.” We headed away from the warehouse toward Azren’s bike, striding like we meant business, and then my fucking ankle twisted and my heel snapped off. I grabbed Azren’s shoulder to stop myself faceplanting onto the tarmac. “Shit, my shoe broke.” He blinked down at me. “I’ll carry you.”

The thought of being up close and personal to that demon body right now, the thought of all the contradictory signals my brain and body would fire, made my teeth ache. “Why don’t you just go bring the bike around?” He studied me with a perplexed frown and then his face cleared and his lips turned down. “I would not have hurt you ... earlier.” “Tell that to the bruise on my butt and shoulders.” His harsh, usually don’t-give-a-fuck expression, was replaced with something that was almost contrite. “I’ll wait here while you get the bike.” For a moment, it looked like he would argue further, but then he nodded and walked off. Thank goodness, because if he’d offered to carry me again my resolve would have taken a flying leap out the window, especially after the contrition on his face. It had been too long since I’d been held. Too long since I’d been intimate with anyone, and even though relationships weren’t for me, intimacy seemed to be a basic need, like food or water, or tea in my special antique cup. The heel of my shoe was hanging off, and a quick jerk pulled it free. Great, these had been my favorite pair of going-out shoes. Voices drifted on the air, gruff and male, and several figures cut across my path. Gooseflesh prickled to life across my skin. Oh, shit. It was the

bloody Lupin pack and their crazy alpha Justin. I turned away quickly, but not fast enough. A hand grabbed my hair and yanked me back against a hairy chest, and something else—something knobbly and hard. Urgh. “Well, well, what do we have here?” Justin drawled. “The mouthy bitch who thinks she can put me down.” A nice heel jab to his foot had him releasing me quick enough, but I was surrounded. The Opal pack circled me, hairy and hungry for violence and other stuff. Yeah, it was a beacon shining out of their yellow eyes and Justin was positively drooling. Fucking hell, why had I left Killion behind? The daggers were to hand, though, strapped under my dress, eager for some action. The hilts fit perfectly in my palms, blades glinting wickedly in the moonlight. Justin cracked a grin. “You think you can fend me off with those baby blades?” “I think you’re about to get your balls sliced off.” He let out a bark of laughter. “Fuck but I like a woman with fire in her belly. If only you’d played nice, but you had to go be a fucking whore about it, so now I’m going to make you bleed.” He lunged at me. I ducked and sliced at his side, blade dragging as it made contact. His growl was a thing of fury, and then he swiped at me in full talon

mode, snagging my brand new jacket—my beautiful, buttery leather jacket. Rage welled up inside me, but then Justin yelped and pulled his hand back, cradling it to his chest. “The fuck? What the fucking fuck!” Spittle flew from his mouth. My jacket? I glanced down at it, expecting to see talon-shaped tears, but it was unmarred. Justin was staring at me accusingly. “You think an enchantment is gonna save you. Get the jacket off her!” Everyone froze for a fraction of a second, as if processing this weird command. It gave me a moment to digest the fact that, even with the blades, I was screwed. But like hell would I go down without getting in a few jabs. The freeze frame moment ended, and the Opal pack attacked as one, but they barely made it within ten feet of me before the roar of a bike cut through the night like a bloody symphony. Hope flooded my veins. Azren broke through the circle of Lupin like an avenging angel, kicking up dust as he swung the bike round and skidded to a halt. He took in the scene—my disheveled, heaving form, the Lupin ready to attack—and his face contorted into a mask of horrific wrath. The glamour fell away, and there was nothing but the demon swathed in glowing glyphs. His true visage seared my vision. Primal

fear clawed at my throat. Okay, it was okay. The big bad was on my side. It was Azren, just Azren, and man, were we about to kick some ass. “What the fuck?” One of the Lupin to my left took a step back. But Justin, the insane animal, wasn’t fazed. He rushed Azren, knocking him off the bike. The two males tangled—talon and dagger and claw—and the sounds, the growls and grunts, were pure beast. “Get the woman!” one of the pack yelled. Fuck this shit. I punched the first Lupin in the nose, and sliced open the next one’s cheek, but rough hands grasped my wrists, twisting and forcing the daggers from my grasp. Dammit, why couldn’t they make blades that stuck to your hands? And where the heck were all the clubgoers? You’d think a bloody brawl would attract some viewers. Where the fuck was everyone? My arm came free of my jacket. The fuckers were actually trying to get it off. Like hell they were taking my pretty. “Get off me!” Dammit, there were too many of them. A roar ripped through the commotion, and the world went still. The hands holding me fell away, and my heart stalled at the sight of the new arrival. A black hound, at least four feet high on all fours, stood on the tarmac, head down, red eyes glowing dangerously. Azren slowly climbed off Justin, and the Lupin

scrambled back, his eyes wide with horror. The black hound took a step toward the Lupin, and they turned and ran. It watched them go for a long beat and then swung its mighty head in my direction. Our gazes locked and my pulse went into overdrive, and then it inclined its head, turned, and padded away into the night. “What was that?” Azren asked. “Hush. Do you want it to come back and eat us?” My stomach was still quivering with shock. “Whatever it was it just saved our lives.” He took a step toward me and stumbled, his hand going to his abdomen. I was up in a flash. “You’re hurt.” “It’s nothing.” “Like hell. Your shirt is ripped to shreds. You’re bleeding.” I reached out to gingerly touch the wound, and he took a sharp breath. “It will heal.” He climbed onto the bike and started the engine. He was hurt, and holding on to him was going to be difficult, especially with the wound being on his abdomen. “I’m fine. Hold tight.” He kicked the bike into gear and we were off. Ten minutes into the drive, my arm was soaked in his blood. “Something’s wrong. You’re still bleeding. We need to stop.” He ignored me and continued to drive. My

heart beat faster with apprehension. Could he bleed to death? Could he die? And then we were on the slip road leading home, and familiar streets came into view. Man, he was a quick study when it came to the roads, and yep, he was still bleeding. The coppery scent stung my nostrils. He brought the bike to a halt outside the house, his booted foot hitting the ground hard to stop the whole thing from toppling onto its side. I slid off, noting the pale pallor of his face and his droopy eyes. “We need to get you into the house.” I ducked under his arm, slinging my arm around his waist to support him. “I can manage.” But he didn’t try to shrug me off. Damn, he was huge, heavy too. We made it two steps to the door before I realized just how heavy as his knees gave way, and he hit the ground, taking me with him.

13

T

hank goodness for burly ghosts, because even though I’d managed to get Azren through the door, there’d have been no way I’d have gotten him upstairs. Gilbert did the honors, but the Shedim hadn’t regained consciousness, and his body was cold to the touch. If not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, I’d have thought he was dead. Shrugging off my invincible coat, I hung it on a hook on the door. “What’s wrong with him?” Trevor asked. “He smells off.” “We were attacked.” Perched on the side of his bed, I carefully peeled back the shredded vestiges of his shirt. The bleeding had slowed down, but the torn flesh had taken on a strange green tinge. “Gilbert?” “I’m sorry, Wila. I’ve never seen anything like

this before. I can check the archives.” My gut told me there was really no time. “Do it. I need to make a call.” My mobile rang for what seemed like forever before Barnaby picked up. “I need your help. Now.” “Wila, what’s wrong?” I filled him in as quickly as I could. “It sounds like Subzero poisoning, but if the timeline is correct, your friend should be dead by now.” Azren’s breathing had become erratic, and my pulse spiked. “He’s not a neph. He’s Shedim.” Silence. “I know you have no love for them, but, Barnaby, you have to help me. I promise I’ll explain why he’s here and all that crap soon, but right now you need to help me save him. Please.” A heavy sigh. “Okay, but you owe me a lengthy explanation when I get there.” Hope lit up my chest. “You’re coming?” “I will be once I’ve synthesized an antidote. I’ve been playing with a formula for a few weeks actually, ever since Subzero hit the streets. You need to keep him alive until I get there.” “And how do I do that?” “Subzero works by forcing the body’s core temperature down until all the organs cease to function. You need to keep him warm, bring that core temperature back up and make it stay there.”

“Okay. Yeah, I’m on it. Just be quick.” I ended the call. “Trevor, I’m gonna need blankets, lots of them.” Trevor nodded and then bounded off. “Gilbert!” “Wila?” Gilbert appeared by the bed, his form hazy and agitated. “I think it’s Subzero poisoning. There have been some reports in the papers, and the symptoms match.” “I know. I just spoke to Barnaby. We need to keep him warm.” “I’ll bring up a couple of hot water bottles.” He vanished. I pulled Azren’s blankets up around him then headed to my room to grab my duvet. We’d bury him under blankets if that was what it took. There was no way he was dying, not on my watch.

MY THROAT WAS TIGHT, my pulse aflutter. Azren was getting colder, his skin like marble. I clutched the phone to my ear as if it were a lifeline. “He’s as cold as ice, Barnaby, what the fuck do I do? We’ve got hot water bottles and blankets, and heck, I even gave him my duvet, but nothing’s working.” “He needs body heat, Wila,” Barnaby said

calmly. “What?” “You’re going to have to strip off and get under the blankets with him. Your body heat should do the trick.” “Wait, what?” A sigh of exasperation. “Listen. If you don’t get his core temp up in the next half hour and keep it there for the next several hours, then he’s dead. You get me?” There was no time for modesty when there was a life at stake. “Yeah. Yeah, I get you. I’m on it.” “You need to strip him too. It needs to be skin on skin.” Oh, man. “I’ll be there as soon as I can with an antidote. Just keep him alive.” Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Peeling back the layers of blanket, hands trembling, I unbuttoned his battered shirt. Just needed to get it off by rolling him onto his side. God, he was heavy. “Gilbert, a little help, please.” Between the two of us, we managed to get the shirt off. My fingers brushed velvet-soft, ice-cold skin. Dead, he felt dead. But he wasn’t. I wouldn’t let him be. The trousers were next, and yeah, I let Gilbert do most of the work there, keeping my eyes on Azren’s chest, on the bloody wound that cut across his abdomen. The bleeding had stopped now,

but the skin still hadn’t begun to knit together. He was fighting, though, because that’s what he was— a fighter, a survivor. He’d have to be to live under Drako rule. “Should we leave the boxers on?” Gilbert asked. “Oh, God yes.” Gilbert pulled the blankets back into place, covering Azren’s bronzed torso. Kicking off my shoes, I began to strip. “I’m going to need the room, guys.” Gilbert retreated and Trevor padded out of the room. Taking a deep breath, I climbed into bed with Azren in only my underwear. Fuck, the man was like a block of ice, how could my body heat thaw him? Okay, so I needed to get some hugging going on without scraping at his abdomen wound. Shit, it was like cozying up to a block of ice. Friction usually helped, right? Time to rub those muscular biceps. God, he felt like one of those marble statues you found at museums. “Come on, big guy. You’re a fucking beast, you can fight this.” But what if he couldn’t? What if he died? My stomach twisted. It was fear, of course, fear of what Elora would do to me when she found out I’d gotten her pet killed. What else could it be? This was my fault. If I hadn’t mouthed off to the alpha of the Opal pack, they’d never have attacked me,

and Azren would be okay. Damn my smart mouth comments, the damn wisecracks that just didn’t stop coming. And now this. It was okay when it was just my life on the line, when I was responsible just for me. Having a partner, however unwanted, sucked, because like it or not, he was my responsibility. My world was alien to him, and I’d fucked up. This is why I rode solo. This. Dammit, he had to be okay. My eyes burned. Fucking hell, come on, Azren. You can do this. You can’t die. You’re a bloody Shedim, a razor-toothed killing machine. Wrapping my arms around his waist and bringing my body flush up against him, I hugged him to me, willing my heat to penetrate the ice that seemed to surround him. Willing him to feel the warmth I was giving. Long minutes ticked by. Was he getting warmer? Not daring to breathe, not daring to move, I hung on to him, eyes closed, warm breath brushing against his cool skin. Wait. Not ice cold anymore. Just cool. He was heating up. It was working. A soft moan rose from his parted lips. His rapid heartbeat began to slow down. Oh, God. It was really working. He sighed again and then his breathing evened out. Okay. Yeah, I could do this, just needed to do the hugging thing for a while longer. For as long as it took. Vigilance was my middle name.

W ARM ARMS TIGHTENED AROUND ME, a muscular thigh slid between mine, and silken hair brushed my cheek. I rose out of sleep and blinked at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. This felt good, real good. Wait? What was this? My body tensed as memory flooded me. “Azren?” I tried to sit up, but the arms around me tightened, holding me in place. “I’m all right.” He was awake, and he was warm, and he was holding me. Naked. My instinct was to jump out of the bed, to put as much distance between us as possible, because doing the almost-naked thing when he’d been unconscious and I’d been saving his life was one thing, but doing it when he was alert and staring at me with those unfathomable green eyes was a whole new ball game. One that had the blood rushing to places it had no business visiting. But I was unable to move, trapped in his rapidly darkening gaze that flitted across my face like a hundred phantom caresses. His mouth was slightly turned down as if in contemplation, as if I was some intricate puzzle or artifact he was desperate to catalogue. “Hi.” My voice was a croak. “You feeling better?” He graced me with a slow blink. “You saved my life.” He said the words slowly, testing them, almost

as if he was unsure of their validity. It wasn’t a question, but it felt like it could have been. “Bah, it was nothing really. I mean, I just hugged you for a while ... almost naked.” Man, my throat was dry. “I need to call Barnaby. Get you that antidote.” “I already took it. Your friend administered it an hour ago and then left. You were sleeping and —” “He wouldn’t let us wake you,” a voice piped up from the foot of the bed. I peered over the duvet. “Trevor? What are you doing here?” His beady doggy eyes narrowed. “Watching him. No way was I leaving you alone with him once he was awake.” He sniffed. My canine protector hopped off the bed and made for the door. “But now you’re up, I’m gonna go take a leak. Only thing about being a small dog, they come with small bladders.” “You have loyal friends,” Azren said musingly. “Strange but loyal friends.” He was looking at me in that probing way again, as if he was trying to figure something out, or put something together in his mind, and the fact that we were still lying in bed, naked limbs tangled as if we’d been doing this forever, was a hot pebble of awareness in my chest. There suddenly wasn’t enough air. There were only his lips, primed and

ready and close. “How come you didn’t drop your glamour when you were unconscious?” The random question I hadn’t really even considered popped out. “I mean, I saw you drop it when you attacked the Lupin.” The corner of his mouth lifted and the intense regard shifted to amusement, telling me he knew exactly what he was doing to my blood pressure. “I’m not sure,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Emotion has a lot to do with how well I maintain my glamour. If I get excited, or angry, it takes more effort to keep it in place. I can remain in glamour when asleep, so it probably works the same for being unconscious.” Excited like yay, I won a prize, or excited like things are getting turgid excited? At least he wasn’t looking at me in that intense way anymore. The knot in my chest loosened a little. “And what’s with the glowing glyphs?” Confusion shadowed his features. “Glyphs?” A chilly shiver tickled the back of my neck just as Azren’s gaze slipped over my shoulder and every muscle in his body tensed. “Well, isn’t this the cozy scene.” There was no mistaking that drawling, lazy tone. My stomach contracted in instinctive fear at the same time as anger flared in my chest, because who the fuck did Valance think he was invading my

private space like this. I was out of the bed and across the room before thinking things through, because yeah, I was in my underwear, but like hell was I going to cower in my own home. My hands on my naked hips, he got the full effect of my scariest glare. “This is unacceptable. You can’t just appear in my home whenever the heck you feel like it.” He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he raked me with his electric regard, reducing my bra and knickers to nothing, because damn if he didn’t make me feel like he could see right through the cotton of my panties. But then he was done and his attention was on Azren. “What’s unacceptable is a Shedim not kneeling for his future liege.” Huh? I glanced over my shoulder to see Azren climb out of bed. He was still unsteady on his feet. The antidote was obviously doing something because he was no longer blue and, well, unconscious, but the wound on his abdomen was only just beginning to heal. The Shedim dropped to one knee. His lips tightened, and his hand went to his stomach. He was hurt, dammit. There was no way he should be up and about just yet. “No, don’t do that. Get up.” I tugged on his arm, gaining no leverage. His wound was bleeding again. “Dammit, you need to heal.” I looked to Valance, whose brow had

furrowed slightly. Was he fucking blind? “Hey, can’t you see he’s hurt?” My chest grew hollow, because there was no way Azren was getting up without his majesty’s say-so. I stepped back, resisting the urge to grind my teeth. “Tell him he can get up. Do it now or so help me God, I’m going to pummel the entitlement right out of you.” He balked and then blinked at me, his mouth parted in surprise. “How did this happen?” “Fucksake, can you release him, or whatever it is you need to do first, please?” Valance waved a dismissive hand in Azren’s direction. Azren swayed, his hand shooting out to brace himself against the bed. “I got you.” I grabbed his arm, helping him to his feet and back to the bed. “Do not fucking get out of this bed till I say so.” His jaw was tight, his eyes bright. Yeah, he was pissed. Pissed that he’d just had to jump through a hoop for Valance? From the way he spoke about the Draconi and all the bluster, I’d just assumed he accepted his role as pet, but maybe I’d misjudged him? Maybe my Shedim colleague wasn’t such a yes-man after all. “What happened,” Valance asked me. I pulled the blanket up over Azren and then picked my dress up off the floor. I was done conversing with the Draconi prince in my underwear.

Bits all covered up, I turned to face the dragon. “We got jumped by the Opal pack and Azren took a hit and got infected with Subzero. We had to keep his core temperature up until we got an antidote into him.” Valance looked from Azren to me. “There is no antidote.” Ooops. Of course there wasn’t. Not officially. “Whatever. What matters is that he’s on the mend now.” And there was that flare of irritation, the whole him being here without my consent and the invasion. The fucking invasion of my private sanctuary, my home. And, yeah, he was a dragon and could probably kill me with a blink, but there was no way I could just let this slide. I pinched the bridge of my nose, composing myself. “What are you doing here?” “I came for my report. You went information gathering ...” He really didn’t get it, did he? “So, you appear in my house without an invite or an appointment?” His eyes narrowed and the amiable expression slipped away. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, Miss Bastion. I’m not one of your clients.” He said the word as if it was a dirty one, and my hackles rose. “No. You’re not. You’re not my client, you’re not my boss, and you’re not a friend, so unless you

have official authority from my boss, your mother, to keep tabs on me, then I suggest you piss off.” Oh, man. That felt good. He studied me for a long beat and then shrugged. “I don’t need official authority. I’m the fucking prince.” The curse word sounded almost cultured uttered in that relaxed tone of his. “Believe it or not, Miss Bastion, I want to help you.” The fight drained out of me. Standing here arguing wasn’t getting us anywhere. There were Shedim out there, probably hiding in the Underground and preparing to do goodness knew what. They knew they were being hunted now. They knew that Elora had sent someone after them. What would their next move be? Elora was obviously concerned about their existence. We needed to stop them before they put whatever plan they had into motion. “I suggest you cooperate and let me help you.” He looked at Azren. “It seems as if you’re going to need it.” He hadn’t bitten my head off over my tone, and pushing him wasn’t a good idea, but lines had to be drawn. “If you want to help, then when you come over, use the front door and wait in my office.” “Or I could get myself wounded and wait in your bed.” The lazy drawl was back. “This isn’t my bed.” Oh, man. What a lame

comeback. He arched a brow. “Just ... wait in my office ... please. I’ll be down to brief you in a minute.” He vanished. I sat on the edge of the mattress. “God, I hate that he can do that. That they can do that.” “Not all of them can.” Azren sounded exhausted. “The myth about Draconi being able to feed off your soul merely by looking into your eyes isn’t true for them all. There are only a few that have this ability. The Drako bloodline can, and the Ignatius bloodline could. Some Draconi have special abilities and others don’t.” “The Ignatius bloodline?” “Ivan Ignatius. Elora’s predecessor and her scalemate.” “Okay, I have no idea what that is.” “Ignatius was the royal bloodline. Each royal was born with a scalemate. A dragon who would bond with them and become their other half. Through this union, they doubled in power.” “What? Like a mate, as in a lover?” He shook his head. “No. Not a lover. More than a lover, more than a soul mate. This is someone who you would share your soul and your heart with, who felt your pain and your joy.” “Let me get this straight. Elora killed her predecessor, so that means she killed her

scalemate?” “She made a great sacrifice to free us. She essentially crippled herself. The pain must have been excruciating. Imagine tearing your very soul in two?” Elora was a dick, but hearing what she’d done to bring some semblance of peace to her people ... Man, I needed to rethink stuff. “Her methods may be harsh, but she keeps order,” Azren said. “Before her intervention, Shedim were being slaughtered every day in a futile war born of prejudice and misunderstanding, all because an ambitious king sat on the throne. One who did not wish to share his world with another race. Elora ended him and ushered in a new order. She embraced the Shedim, raised us out of the ashes and gave us a purpose, a role. We guard our world from the Everdark, we protect the royal houses, and we keep order in our territory.” It still sounded like they’d been shafted— drafted into glorified slavery. “And do you get paid?” He blinked at me. “We have no use for money. Whatever we need is provided to us.” “What about freedom?” I caught a flash of defiance in his eyes again. He blinked and extinguished it. “Sacrifices must be made in the interest of equilibrium. Everyone has a role, everything has its place.” His eyelids fluttered

closed. I patted the duvet covering his legs. “We’ll pick up this conversation later.” His chest rose and fell evenly as he slipped into slumber. Time to go face the dragon.

14

T

revor accosted me in the foyer. “I wouldn’t go in if I were you. Way too much testosterone in the air.” He made a choking sound. “You won’t survive.” “What are you talking about?” I brushed past him and headed toward the office. Trevor followed. “Now this I have to see.” The door to the office swung open to reveal Valance leaning up against the wall, arms crossed, tan forearms on display. A tight smile hovered on his lips as he faced off with the other occupant of the room. Taylem stood in the center of the room, his powerful frame eating up space. His T-shirt-clad back was to me, and even though his arms were held loosely at his sides, the muscles of his back were tight with tension.

His head jerked up slightly as I entered, and he turned to face me. “You’re okay.” He pulled me into a hug, my ear to his chest. His heart beat the thunder of a thousand hooves. “There was blood outside the club. And fear. Your fear.” There was nothing like a Taylem hug, and my arms tightened around his waist as I breathed him in deep. My eyes pricked and the final vestiges of anxiety melted away. Tay always had that effect on me. The big guy had a calming presence that soothed my nerves every time, and being in his arms right now allowed me to accept the fact that Azren and I had gotten our arses handed to us, that we could have died. Azren could have died. Tay held me tighter. “Gilbert wouldn’t let me up to see you.” He pulled back to look into my face, and a purple bruise on his chin glared back at me. “Taylem went all grrr,” Trev said. “Tried to bypass Gilbert.” Ouch. Tay rubbed his jaw. “Your ghost guardian sure packs a punch. Kinda hard to fight back when you can’t see your opponent.” “But he told you I was all right?” His eyes darkened. “I needed to see for myself.” He swallowed hard. “There was blood, Wila, and the aura of a fight, and when Gilbert said you were indisposed…” “You thought I was hurt.”

He ducked his head. “Yeah.” “You’ve been here all night?” He shrugged a massive shoulder, and my heart contracted painfully. “Babe.” I reached up to stroke his cheek; his eyes lit up, and I checked myself just in time. He wasn’t mine, because I couldn’t give him what he wanted—commitment, my heart and my soul. The thought sent ice trickling through my veins, and it was enough to pull me back. His expression shuttered. “Trevor filled me in, though.” Anger flashed across his handsome face. “When I get my hands on Justin ...” “You’ll do what?” Valance asked. Shit, I’d forgotten he was in the room, but now that he’d spoken, the crackle of power in the air was unmistakable. Tay slowly released me and turned to the Draconi prince. “I’ll tear his spine out,” he said simply. Valance’s lips turned down as if he was considering Tay’s assertion. “And end up in prison for murder? Is that what you want?” He pushed off the wall. “You know how it works. Opal pack has power, connections. They make sure the pockets trade. Arcana law enforcement won’t touch them. But you ... yeah, even with your influence, you’re dispensable.” “Tay ...” I pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m okay. Honest.”

Tay tucked in his chin, composing himself and pushing down the rage. “And Azren?” “Probably still in the bed they shared last night,” Valance said snidely. I shot him a what-the-heck look. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was deliberately trying to antagonize the troll. Valance merely shrugged. Taylem’s nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes briefly. He was reining in his anger. My big, beautiful beast of a friend was in total control. I’d heard tales of his exploits from Mack, a time when Tay had lived on a knife’s edge, where the merest slight had sent him into a rage. It had taken years of meditation and determination to bring that temper under control. I stroked his rock-hard bicep. “Tay? Gilbert explained things, right?” He opened his eyes and they were shrouded with sadness. “Yeah. You did what you needed to save Azren’s life.” He smiled but it was merely a quirk of the mouth. “That’s what makes you, you.” “Well, as touching as this little scene is,” Valance said, “I think I’ve had about enough of the Miss Bastion fan club for the day. Can we please get down to business? Your troll friend here may have been briefed, but I’m still awaiting a rundown of the events of last night.” Taylem glared at Valance, his jaw ticking

dangerously. My troll friend didn’t have the greatest of patience when it came to sarcasm. Once again, my hand found his bicep, stroking soothingly. The muscle beneath my fingers shifted and eased, and Tay tore his gaze away from the dragon prince. “I best get back to the bar.” He pressed his lips to my forehead for a long beat. “Unless you need me to stay?” “Oh, Miss Bastion is completely safe with me,” Valance said amiably. “If I wanted her dead, I wouldn’t have saved her life at the Keep.” Tay ignored him, his attention fixed on my face. I gave him my cockiest grin. “When have I ever needed a man to fight my battles?” Tay snorted. “Never. Look, we’re headed into Slumber tomorrow so I’ll be out of touch for fortyeight hours, but if you need anything call me and leave a message, and if things get bad you call the bar and speak to Fergus, you tell him to pull me out.” Oh, shit. Was it that time of the month already? Slumber was an essential meditative state that the twins practiced once a month. It helped balance out their aggressive tendencies. It’s what helped them function so well in society. Pulling him out would disrupt the delicate balance he’d managed to cultivate between his troll and his humanity. “I’ll be fine. I do this for a living, remember?”

He finally cracked a smile. “Yeah, I remember, but everyone needs a little help sometimes.” He strode out of the room without giving Valance another look. “So, Miss Bastion, do you have any other admirers waiting in the wings to kiss your booboos?” Valance stuck out his bottom lip. God, he was infuriating. “Tay is a friend, not an admirer.” “Do you usually fuck your friends?” My cheeks heated. “What?” He walked across the room toward me. “Pheromones, Miss Bastion. You both reek of complementary pheromones. And upstairs in your not-bedroom with my mother’s pet, the aroma was decidedly telling.” “Maybe you need to get your nose checked. In fact, maybe you should just keep your nose out of other people’s business.” He held up his hands. “Simply making an observation and wondering if Mother chose the best candidate for the job. How is the investigation going?” “Aside from the getting-attacked-by-Lupin part? Just dandy.” He perched his arse on the edge of my desk. “What have you discovered?” “In short, nothing. We hoped to get some intel off Lex Hunter, but he has a hatred for Shedim and

he knew what Azren was. He kicked us out of the club.” Valance pursed his lips in thought. “Lex Hunter ... there isn’t much information on the neph, but he seems to have connections to the bigshots in the city. Why did you think he’d know anything about the rogue Shedim?” “I have it on good authority that Lex is a collector of information.” “Information he didn’t share with you.” “No, but I doubt he’d shield the Shedim if he knew where they were. He really doesn’t like them.” Something dark and cunning flitted across Valance’s face. “Maybe he just didn’t like Azren.” “I get the impression that neither do you.” “I have no time for blind faith.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” He sighed. “Nothing. Was there anything else?” “Yeah. We tangled with a couple of Shedim outside the club, and Azren managed to bind one to the dagger.” His head whipped up. “You really are awful at briefings. Don’t you think you should have led with that?” “Be grateful you’re even getting a briefing.” I filled him in on how the dagger had glowed in the club, leading to Azren’s suspicions and us getting kicked out, then how we’d chased the

Shedim and managed to bag one. “Where’s the dagger?” Valance asked. “Upstairs with Azren. Why?” He pressed his lips together. “You need to keep it safe.” “Actually, I was thinking of handing it over to the first passerby.” He didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m sure Mother will be pleased to know the dagger works. It’s a shame you weren’t able to track the one that got away.” “Kinda difficult when they just poof into thin air.” He nodded. “Mother will question the one you have captured when you return the dagger to her at the full moon, but I doubt he’ll crack. They never do.” “Wait, you’ve caught others?” His lips curved sardonically. “This won’t be the first one caught by Mother’s pets. There have been several others found in our territory; that’s why it’s essential you find their base and allow Azren to capture as many as he can.” The heat had bled out of his tone, and he sounded almost as if he was reciting a prepared speech. “What does this resistance want, exactly? I mean, according to Azren everything in Draconi territory is as it should be, and Elora is a goddess

who saved you all.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach the mesmerizing electric blue of his eyes. Shit, look away. A low chuckle. “Relax, you’re safe.” “Yeah. I know. Not to your taste.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Okay, fear, get your hand off my throat. “You didn’t answer my question.” “Because there is no one answer. Do they want to take over ruling the territory? Do they want war? A return to the way things used to be—Draconi fighting Shedim. Or maybe they want to eliminate the Draconi altogether. Whatever it is, they’re kidnapping loyal Shedim to do it and doing goodness knows what to them.” He averted his gaze. “Maybe all they want is equality.” The words were softly uttered but rang a bell in my mind. “And why can’t Elora just give it to them? Why not make the Shedim equal?” “The Shedim and Draconi are satisfied with the arrangement. They have a purpose that suits them, and they owe Elora their lives. She liberated them from a futile war.” “Yeah, I’ve heard. In fact, I’ve heard those exact words. But it doesn’t answer my question. What do you guys do? Hand out propaganda leaflets to your citizens?” Valance’s mouth twisted. “Find a lead. Find the Shedim’s base. One Shedim in the dagger won’t

appease Elora. Trust me, you don’t want to be at the receiving end of her disappointment.” “We do have one lead.” He arched a brow. “The Underground.” “The boarded-up railway network?” He looked skeptical. “From what I understand, the Arcana Institute bricked up all the entrances.” “Yeah, I thought so too, but I think there may be a way in. Azren and I were going to investigate when we were attacked.” He pushed off the desk. “Sounds like a plan. Do it and then report to me.” It was my turn to arch a brow. He smiled, flashing dazzling white teeth. “Or should I say, I’d love to be kept informed. We could chat about it while we take that walk you promised me.” “I didn’t promise ... Never mind.” He retrieved something from his trouser pocket. It glinted in the light, gold and red. “Put this on.” He held out the object. A ring. “Um, no thanks. I don’t think we’re there yet.” He smirked. “Smart mouth. Just take it. It’s a link to me.” I crossed my arms. “No way am I being linked to you, so you can put your jewelry GPS away.” He exhaled through his nose. “I can’t track you with it, not unless you summon me, and you can do

that by twisting the ring all the way round.” He held it up. “Think of it as another weapon in your arsenal.” When he put it that way. “Fine, but if I find out you’re spying on me, then there’ll be hell to pay.” I plucked the ring from his fingers and slipped it onto my pinky; it morphed to fit perfectly. Satisfied, he walked toward the exit and paused in the doorway. “Justin and his pack are vicious killers. Too many bodies have been put to sleep on the riverbed as a result of their extracurricular exploits. You were extremely lucky.” It had been more than luck. It had been the enchanted effects of a leather dustkicker and the intervention of a massive hound. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

THE CHAIR in the basement creaked as I leaned back in it, mobile to my ear, and fingered the soft leather of my fabulous coat. Azren was still out cold. Trevor had agreed to sit in the room with his newspaper and keep an eye on him. Gilbert, the stubborn idiot, was preparing lunch, despite the fact that he was drained from carrying Azren up four flights of stairs in the early hours of the morning and punching Tay in the face. Making tea and

moving the odd object about was one thing, but that kind of exertion took extreme focus, and he needed time to reenergize, but would he listen to me and just let me order takeout? No. You need a homecooked meal. Something filled with goodness. Meaty stew smells drifted down the stairs into the basement, making my tummy grumble. The phone rang four times and then was answered with a brisk click. “Yes?” Adam’s tone was curt and businesslike. “What did you do to my coat?” “Miss Bastion?” “Yeah, it’s me. The coat, what did you do to it?” “The fact you’re asking me about that means you’ve been attacked.” “It withstood a Lupin’s talon strike.” “A Lupin? What were you—never mind. Look, I thought with the job you do some extra protection would come in handy. I merely fortified it.” “Thank you.” A long beat of silence followed my words, then, “You’re very welcome.” A rustling. “If that’s all, I have a meeting to get to.” “Wait.” “Yes?” “Bullets? Can it deflect bullets?” A soft chuckle. “Yes, Miss Bastion, it can. Enjoy.” The call ended with a click. I’d been

dismissed. The coat looked up at me, batting its superpower eyelashes. “Fucking awesome.” “This doesn’t mean you should go charging into danger,” the voice from beyond the reinforced door said. “Of course it doesn’t.” I sucked in my bottom lip. “But I can if I have to.” “Just so you know, I’m rolling my eyes at you right now.” “So, you have eyes.” “Yes, Wila. I have eyes. Would you like to see them? All you need to do is open the door.” “No, thanks. I’d like to keep my face on my ... face.” “You think I’d hurt you?” “I don’t know what you’d do. I have no idea what you are.” “Don’t you?” Awareness slithered up my neck and spread across the back of my scalp. “You’re a voice.” “Yes, Wila. I am. I’m a voice that you enjoy listening to.” “Don’t flatter yourself.” He chuckled. “What will you do now?” “Wait for Azren to heal up and then hit the Underground.” “Why wait? You’ve never needed backup before. You’re Wilomena Bastion, dark avenger,

righter of wrongs. Marks run at the sound of your boot falls.” “You should think about writing promotional pamphlets.” “You’re avoiding the question.” “I’m not avoiding anything, aside from my lunch. I need to get back upstairs.” I made to stand. “You’re afraid.” I froze. “What did you say?” “For the first time in your existence, you’re truly afraid.” My skin prickled. “Fuck you. I do this shit for a living, and I’m damn good.” “Yes, but you’re working for Elora now. You’re up against a foe that you can’t possibly begin to understand, being pulled into a conflict that could swallow you whole. And the Underground is dark and closed and claustrophobic. Anything could be down there.” His words made my brain itch. “If I go without Azren then he’ll be pissed.” “And since when do you care about pissing people off if it gets results?” Since it meant going underground alone. Since it meant facing the razor-mawed, horrific rebel Shedim and whatever else might lurk down below. A weight settled on my chest. The voice was right, I was scared. In all my years in this line of work, I’d never come this close to death, first at the hands of

Elora, then the Shedim, and finally the Lupin. It was as if taking Noir’s case had thrown me onto a path fraught with mortal danger, and no, there was no way I was heading into the Underground alone. I stood and draped my coat over my arm. “I’m not afraid. I’m smart. Only an idiot would go into the Underground without backup. But then, what would you know?” I headed for the stairs. “There’s no shame in fear, Wila. It keeps you alive.” I stopped with my hand on the banister, because of course I knew this. But it wasn’t until a half hour later, when Gilbert placed a plate of delicious beef stew in front of me, that it hit me—I’d never told the voice about the dragon queen. I’d never mentioned Elora’s name.

15

“Y

ou have to come,” Eloise pleaded over the phone. “Fran is dying to see you. The three of us haven’t hung out in forever. Besides, it’s a charity

event.” “On the Northside? What’s the money for anyway? Adding extra gems to the Arcana Institute building?” “Wila, come on. Live a little.” “Hey, I live plenty.” “Throwing yourself into situations where you could get killed isn’t living.” “She has a point,” Gilbert said. “Definitely,” Trevor agreed from his sundappled spot on the rug. “Will you two stop eavesdropping on my conversation?”

Trevor lay back down and closed his eyes. I cradled the mobile between shoulder and cheek and fiddled with the talisman that lived in my drawer. “Look, I’m mid-case right now.” “You’re telling me you can’t spare two hours to hang with your best friends?” She sounded incredulous. Urgh, guilt trip. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll leave your name and ticket at reception, and now it’s up to you. Event starts at seven p.m. I really hope to see you there, babe. We both do. Kisses.” She hung up with a soft click. My tummy fluttered. It would be so nice to see them again, to pretend that life was all roses and champagne. To dress up and people-watch and giggle at all the snooty Northsiders. “You should go,” Gilbert said. “Trevor and I will keep an eye on Azren.” “I thought we talked about you not volunteering me for jobs,” Trevor said. But his tone was good-natured. I tapped my fingers on the kitchen table. “I don’t know. It feels kinda indulgent.” “Since when do you stop living while on a case?” Trevor asked. “You can’t do anything while razor mouth is unconscious. You may as well go out and let your hair down.” He was right. There was no reason to mope

about here. “Fine. I’ll go, but if he wakes up, you call me.” “Of course,” Gilbert said. A cup of tea materialized before me. “Now drink your tea and then go do something with your hair.” I reached up to touch my head. “What’s wrong with my hair?” “The question should be what’s right with it,” Trevor said. “You do realize you haven’t brushed it since before you left for the club last night, right?” Oh, fuck. The small mirror hanging on the wall next to my dustkicker poster showed a head of hair that would do a wild banshee justice, and I’d dealt with Tay and Valance looking like this. “Gilbert, I think I’m going to need some biscuits with my tea.”

NORTHSIDE, with its tall glass buildings, sparklingclean streets, and massive holo boards, made my head ache. The taxi ride there had been almost painful, with the sullen driver uttering barely two words to me. South and Eastside drivers were so much friendlier. This guy looked like he’d gotten a rolling pin stuck up his arse, but if I was going to be drinking then there’d be no driving tonight. The air was saturated with magic, the aroma

cloying and suffocating. This was the domain of the Arcana, the true magic wielders, and only the highbrow and affluent were welcome. Damn, I felt like a fraud, even in my slinkiest maxi dress and most expensive heels, and the receptionist’s nose had turned up as if she’d just gotten a whiff of l’eau de shit. “I’m sorry. I can’t see you on the list,” she said for the third time. The urge to just grab the clipboard off her and find my name myself was a throb in my temples. Instead, I increased the wattage on my faux smile. “Wilomena Bastion. Please, look again. My close friend Eloise Grand said she’d leave my invite at reception.” A murmur rose up behind me where a queue was building, and the heat of several pairs of eyes seared my back. Any other place and I’d have given them the finger, but this was Eloise and Fran’s world, and my best behavior was essential. The gatekeeper to the grand ballroom beyond sighed heavily, her face scrunching up as if I’d asked her to perform heart surgery in a fucking tutu. She gave the list another cursory glance and then placed it resolutely back on the desk. “Sorry,” she said with finality. “Is there a problem here?” The tone was imperious and very familiar. The receptionist lit up so bright you’d think

someone had shoved a string of Christmas lights up her arse. “Mr. Noir, how nice to see you. No. There’s no problem.” Noir’s suit-clad shoulder brushed my arm, his fresh, zesty cologne coaxed a flutter in my chest. “Is there a problem, Miss Bastion?” he asked me. The receptionist blinked rapidly, looking from Noir to me. You could almost see the cogs whirring to life in her crafty head and coming to the conclusion that if Noir knew me then I must belong here. “Just an error somewhere,” she said breezily. “Miss Bastion’s invite seems to have gone awry.” Noir smiled graciously. “These things happen, of course. I’ll take her off your hands.” He winked conspiratorially at the receptionist, whose cheeks bloomed pretty pink, then offered me the crook of his arm and led me toward the double doors marking the entrance to the elaborate marbled ballroom. I slid him an arch look. “Do you have that effect on all women?” He kept his gaze fixed ahead, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “Obviously not. Some females are sadly immune to my charms.” “Well, thank goodness for that. Otherwise you’d have to hire me to beat them off you with a club.” Heads swiveled to take us in, and people leaned

in to whisper to each other. “I think we’re causing quite a stir,” Noir said. “I’m not sure my being on your arm is going to do your reputation any favors.” “The beauty of being a Noir is that you can do what the fuck you like and no one can say a damned thing.” There was no arrogance in the statement. “Aside from sire a child outside of the institution,” I quipped. His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry. My mouth doesn’t always heed my brain’s warnings.” “No. It’s fine. You’re correct, of course. There are limits. But this is not one of them.” He led us to an empty table. “I see your name, Miss Bastion.” Sure enough, there was a place card on the table with my name clearly printed. Fucking receptionist. His gaze caressed my face. “I’m sure your friends will be along shortly. I’d stay and keep you company but—” “Adam,” a slightly shrill, panicked voice said. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Noir closed his eyes for a beat too long, and then his lips curved in a warm smile, and he turned to the woman who was glaring daggers at me. The lethal expression dropped as soon as Noir’s attention was on her, and she simpered prettily.

“Vanessa said she saw you come in with ... someone.” She glanced across at me. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” “This is Wilomena Bastion, of Bastion Investigations, a most worthy organization.” The woman’s mouth made an ‘o’. “An investigator with The Collective?” “No.” I gave her a tight smile. “I’m totally freelance.” I shifted closer to Noir. “Totally my own woman, aren’t I, Adam?” I tilted my head to look up at him with a soft, intimate smile. Noir’s body tensed as mine brushed up against him, and the woman blanched. Yeah, it was evil to goad her this way. There was nothing between Noir and me, but it was worth it to see the flutter of panic on her face, and there was no way I’d let her get away with looking down her nose at me. Noir cleared his throat and patted my hand. “It has been lovely, Miss Bastion, but I must get to my table.” I nodded and scrunched up my nose in a conspiratorial way. “Of course. I’ll see you later.” Noir released me and leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Uncalled for, Miss Bastion. Totally uncalled for.” But there was humor in his tone and then he was gone, swept away across the room by a date eager to get my hooks out of him and hers firmly in. A hand grabbed my elbow. “What the heck,

Wila?” Eloise whisper-shrieked. “You know Adam Noir?” Fran was staring after Noir’s imposing frame as he walked a head above the rest across the room. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to take a bite out of that peach,” she said. “How?” Eloise asked me. I waved a hand. “You know what it’s like in my line of work. You come across people.” “Not like Noir. You know that he’s heir to the Noir seat on the Arcana Institute board, right?” Fran asked. “Yeah. I know. He’s a bigwig.” “He’s also Collective Elder material.” Fran arched a brow. “If you know what I mean.” Okay, now that was news to me. The Collective was a faction of the Arcana Institute created by the magic wielders to bring together all neph with the gene to travel between pockets. But they weren’t just any Arcana, they were dark Arcana users, able to harness the most sinister of power. It was what allowed them to identify the neph able to make the journey, and Noir was one of them. “His older brother Ethan was offered a position as an Elder,” Fran said. “He decided he wanted to be out in the field instead.” Adam Noir had a brother. “So Ethan would be the heir, not Adam?” “Nope, Ethan renounced his claim to the

Institute chair. There was some scandal but I have no idea what happened,” Fran said. “How is working with The Collective going? When do you get to travel?” Fran sighed. “The Potentials were meant to be having our first run this week, but it’s been put off. A memo circulated this morning. There’s some stuff going on higher up in the ranks and rumors of an elite task force being summoned to Arcana. Collective members from other Arcana branches will be arriving in the next week or so.” “Do you know why?” “No idea.” Fran grinned at me. “But you could come work for us, and maybe we could find out together.” “I thought we agreed no recruitment.” Fran gave me a sheepish grin. “But we’d have so much fun.” “And I’d have to wear those awful uniforms made of that awful material.” “You mean the material called not leather?” Fran teased. “Yeah, that’s the one.” Eloise chuckled. “I’d happily redesign The Collective attire if the battle axe paid me to.” “Speaking of the battle axe, look who just glided in,” Fran said, her eyes on the door. Ah, Loraine Vincent, Head of Collective Operations. The Elders that sat on the board may

make the decisions, but Loraine was the one who executed them. The woman was cold. I’d looked into her eyes and seen icescapes, seriously. “And look whose arm she’s on?” Eloise pointed out. The man was tall, dark-haired, with winged eyebrows and a face that rang a distant bell. “Who is that?” Eloise shot me an are you kidding me look. “Only the man in charge of the Kelter empire.” “Ah, shit, yeah, Nathaniel Kelter.” I’d seen his chiseled face on enough holo boards to know who he was. He looked different in the flesh, though, less shiny. “Well, this truly is rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, isn’t it?” “Wait, look ...” Fran nudged me, jerking her head toward the entrance again. Five neph walked in, pale, dark-eyed, and slender. They looked as if they were carved from marble and probably felt as cold as stone. These were the Sanguinata, a dying breed holding out only by the mercy of The Collective. The bloodsuckers fed on human blood, but after the prison realm encroached on our world and everything went to shit, the humans were expelled from our pocket and the Sanguinata were left without a food source. Desperate and hungry, they’d fed on nephs. The blood had driven them insane, and many had been slaughtered. Only the ancient had withstood the

hunger and survived long enough for The Collective to form. It was through The Collective they got their human blood, from the neph able to travel into mundane pockets to collect it. If not for The Collective, the Sanguinata would be extinct. And here they were, doing their bit for charity, using their wealth to stay alive, to stay on the Northside. There may have been a time they’d been feared, but not anymore. “Enough goggling at people,” Eloise said. “We’re here to have fun.” She summoned a tray bearer with a flick of her wrist, and we all grabbed glasses of champagne. “To forever friendship.” Eloise raised her glass. “Forever friendship,” Fran and I echoed. We drained the flutes and grabbed seconds.

THE WORLD WAS BEGINNING to feel pleasantly soft around the edges when my mobile vibrated in my clutch bag. “No.” Eloise made a grab for my bag, but she was no match for my reflexes. The phone was in my hand and then against my ear before she had time to blink. “Hey?” “Wila! Help!” Trevor’s voice was a strangled

plea, and then the line went dead. I stared at the phone for a long beat and then I was flying across the room, feet barely touching the ground, dress gathered up like fucking Cinderella leaving the ball to avoid getting turned into a pumpkin. “Wila!” Fran called after me, but there was no time to stop, no time to explain that my friends were in danger, that my gut was in knots, that I should never have left them alone to come out tonight. The receptionist looked up, startled, as I ran past, but then the night closed in around me and my feet faltered. Mini wasn’t here. I’d opted to take a taxi. Shit! I needed to call a taxi. No time. What was I going to do? “Miss Bastion? Are you all right?” Zesty scent cleared my head, and I turned to Noir and grabbed his lapels. “You need to get me home right now.” He blinked down at me, his baby blues darkening in response to the urgency in my voice, and then he stepped back and took my hand. “Don’t let go.” “Adam?” His date appeared at the top of the stone steps leading into the building. Noir paused and looked up. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I have to leave. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

His grip on my hand tightened and the world shattered into a million pieces.

16

T

he world coalesced in a rush, leaving me breathless and clinging to Noir. His arms were the only thing holding me up. My knees trembled, thighs quivering, reminding me of the aftermath of a particularly good orgasm. “Are you all right?” Noir asked into my hair. “Fine. I just need …” My hands found the hard planes of his chest and pushed. Yeah, I was standing on my own steam. The hows and what the hecks of how we’d just done that would have to be addressed later. My knees held as I climbed the short flight of steps up to my home with Noir close behind, probably ready to catch me if I lost my balance. The door swung open with a brush of my fingers and the wrongness hit me in the face. Several foreign signatures registered, but they were echoes.

“Wila ... Oh, Wila ...” Gilbert’s mournful voice was distant, weak, but he was here. But Trevor? Where were Trev and Azren ... Heat flared in my chest and up into my throat. My legs pumped as I scaled the steps to the fourth floor. Instinct. Primal awareness. How else could I have known ... and there was Trevor, lying in a pool of his own blood. His eyes closed, his mouth coated in crimson. My body froze, hand on the door jamb, heart beating so hard it threatened to fracture my ribcage. “Oh, shit.” Noir pushed past me into the room and fell to his knees beside my canine companion. But my legs were locked, unable to move as my gaze swept the room, taking in the carnage: the torn mattress, broken bed, and blood, so much blood. Azren was gone and Trevor was— “Alive,” Noir said. “He’s alive, but barely. He’s lost a lot of blood.” He scooped Trevor up and headed back toward me. “We need to patch him up. Where can I work on him?” Alive, he was alive. “The lounge. Out here.” Noir placed Trevor carefully on the sofa in Azren’s lounge. Azren ... where was he? Noir’s eyes were closed, his hand hovering over the gash in Trevor’s side. The blood began to congeal and the wound began to knit. Noir fell back onto his haunches, his brow beaded with

perspiration. “He’ll be okay. The wound wasn’t deep enough to damage any vital organs.” Oh, God. “Trev.” I ran a hand over his head, not caring how much he hated being petted, wanting only to hear his voice. “Trev, please wake up.” “He’ll need to rest,” Noir said. “Azren is gone.” “The Shedim?” I began to pace. “He was hurt, too hurt to fight back, and they’ve taken him.” “Who?” “The Shedim.” “The rebels? You found them?” His eyes grew wide. “We came up against a couple. One got away but Azren managed to capture one in his ... wait.” I ran back into Azren’s room, but the dagger was gone. “Wila, what kind of trouble are you in?” Noir stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the carnage. I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know. I knew they’d be warned we were on to them, but I didn’t expect them to come after us, to come after Azren.” My heart sank. “I have to go. I need to get him back.” Noir snagged my elbow as I made to push past him. “Wait. Where are you going?”

“Into the Underground. Long story, but I know they’ve taken him there.” “If that’s the case, you can’t go alone. We need to inform The Collective.” “We can’t do that, remember? You said so yourself, if they find out about Azren and Elora’s contract then I’m dead. They’ll kill me to protect Arcana City from Elora’s Shedim.” He exhaled through his nostrils. “In that case, I’m coming with you.” Yes, please. Dammit, no. There was no way I could ask him to risk his life. This was my case, my problem. “This isn’t your fight.” He gave me an incredulous look. “Rogue Shedim in my city are most certainly my fight. I’m coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Relief flooded me, because, heck, who wouldn’t want backup going into an underground den? “Thank you.” Trevor’s breathing had evened out, and I gently laid a blanket over him. “Gilbert? Gilbert, are you there?” Silence greeted me and my chest tightened. Had he slipped away. If he’d fought back, then he’d be seriously tapped out. He just needed time to reenergize. “I know you can hear me. I’ll be back soon. Stay with Trevor.” A chill shot up my spine, a warning. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” The chill abated slightly. “We need to get to

Southside. We need to check the entrances to the Underground. I think there are four we can try.” “And what makes you think we’ll get access via any of those?” “Because Arcana Institute always skimps when it comes to Southside and you know it. They used concrete and bricks to seal off the entrances in North and East, but I bet they cut corners for South.” He sighed. “You’re probably right.” He tucked in his chin. “I’m afraid we’ll have to travel the oldfashioned way this time, though. I need a little time to recover.” “We can take my car.” I made for the stairs. “Um, Miss Bastion?” “What?” “Maybe you’d like to change first?” I glanced down at my fancy dress. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.”

NOIR WINCED and then extricated himself from the vehicle. His body wasn’t built for such a confined space. He cracked his neck and stretched his legs as we stared at our last stop—a blacked out, circular Underground symbol and a flight of steps leading into darkness. They hadn’t even bothered to block

off the steps this time. The other three stations, although shoddily sealed, had shown no signs of breaches. The entrances had been boarded up with metal sheets and bolts. Unless they’d sealed up this entrance at the bottom of the steps, then we were on to a winner. I turned to Noir. “Why did Arcana board up the Underground?” Noir’s eyes twitched. “Once our world went to shit, it was only a matter of time before new monsters crawled into our city. The Underground was too ripe a place for them to hide. Sealing it off was a safety measure ... at least that was the official line.” “You don’t believe it?” “I believe it was a sudden and drastic measure. The work was completed overnight. But if what you say is true, if these rogue Shedim and Immigrant Others are using the Underground as a home, then The Collective failed, and they will be taking action.” “You think they already know?” He snorted. “Of course they would know. They make it their business to know.” Could the elite team Fran had been talking about be related to this? Noir led the way down the steps into the darkness, and a soft light accompanied his steps. He was using his mojo again, and there, bathed in the

glow of the light he was creating, was our breach, a neatly pulled back sheet of metal with inky black darkness beyond. “It looks like we found our way in,” Noir said. How could he sound so calm? “Let me go first.” There was no way I was playing the damsel, no matter how much I wanted to. Azren was my responsibility, and I was getting him back. “It reeks,” Noir said. The smell hit me a moment later, decay and death. Not good. The light he’d produced flickered and then flared a little brighter, illuminating tiled platforms and grimy posters. The acrid stench of urine stung my nostrils. “Oh, man. The Shedim must have zero sense of smell.” “Desperation makes us do desperate things.” “In that case, they are definitely desperate.” A second flight of stairs took us into the bowels of the Underground where tunnels and platforms waited, once alive with the bustle of human activity, now dead silent. We came to a standstill in front of a tunnel that would lead us to a choice of platforms. Even with Noir’s light, the maw was a threatening abyss. My pulse, which had been steadily climbing, reached epic thunder and sweat broke out all over my body.

“One sec. I just need one sec.” Hands on hips, I leaned over, taking deep breaths then gagging, because, oh, God. That was gross. This air was gross. “Wila? What’s wrong?” Noir’s hand made circles on my back. I shook my head. “Fine. Just a little claustrophobic.” His hand stilled. “You didn’t think to mention that before we entered? We need to get you out of here.” “No. Azren needs me. I can’t abandon him.” “He could already be dead.” “No. If they wanted him dead they could have killed him back at the house.” The conversation, the focus on other stuff, helped. The rush of blood in my head ebbed. “I’m okay. I can do this. Just ... keep the light on.” The light grew brighter, drifting into the tunnel to illuminate the dirty yellow interior. “You sure you want to do this?” Noir asked. “The sooner we check out the place, the sooner we can get out of here.” I stood tall and exhaled. “I’m ready.” His hand slipped into mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me. Warmth expanded in my chest. “What did you do?” He frowned. “Just held your hand. I thought it might help.”

I blinked up at his face made of shadowy planes. “It helps.” He smiled and then turned to the tunnel. “Come on, Miss Bastion. Let’s go save your demon friend.” The tunnel closed in around us, squeezing, sucking the air from my lungs, but the light pushed back the clawing darkness, and Noir’s hand in mine was an anchor pulling me along. Please, don’t let this take long, please ... How long had we walked? How long was this tunnel? Shadows reared up and pressed to the tunnel walls, and Noir jerked me to a stop, his finger tightening around mine. “What the fuck?” My voice was a whisper that echoed around us. Shit. The acoustics in this place were a musician’s wet dream. Noir was positively vibrating with tension beside me. “We’re going to back up slowly.” His voice was a gentle hush. “No sudden moves, okay?” “What are they?” “Not here. Are you with me?” “Yes.” “Okay, back up, one step. Yes. Another.” We took two steps back and then the humanoid thing pressed to the wall to my right raised its head, its movements jerky, like a clockwork thing. It sniffed the air. “Noir?” My voice trembled.

“Miss Bastion, forget about taking it slow. Run!” We turned and ran just as the thing emitted a sonar scream that pierced my brain, bringing me to my knees. Noir tugged me up. “Move!” Stumbling, righting myself, hand still clamped in Noir’s, I ran. We exited the tunnel and ground to a halt. The things, the humanoid, twisted black creatures, were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, stuck to the walls, climbing up from the tracks to our left with jerky, eerie movements. The light flared, and they screamed in unison, falling back. Noir pulled me against him. “It’s all right. We’re safe in the light. They don’t seem to like it. Just stay close.” With the light acting as a cocoon we began to run for the stairs that led out. We never made it. The things cut us off, making a wall to block our exit. “They seem to be over the light thing.” I reached for K. “We’re going to have to kill our way out.” “Aim for the heart,” Noir instructed, and then let out a blast of energy that hit the nearest creature in the chest. It exploded into ash with an angry screech. I let a bolt fly, hitting another right in the sweet spot. It had barely exploded, and I’d already

loaded up K for another kill. The runes on my baby flared to life. He was ready, he was hot. Fingers tingling, I went into auto mode, bolt after bolt, hit after hit. There was no missing, no stopping me, because K and I were one. Something leapt at me but K tugged, pulling me forward into a roll that saved my ass, but Noir was down. The black creatures lunged at his neck. Not for long. A bolt straight under the thing’s arm went straight through its chest, and it rained ash on Noir. The Arcana stared at me in shock. “Heads up, more incoming.” I aimed and fired over his head, taking out two with one bolt. My bolt bag grew heavy as the bolts re-materialized. Yes. This was the beauty of K. The fucking awesomeness of my baby. Noir was back on his feet and at it with the light bolts. Where the fuck were these things coming from? They were an infestation, drawn to the carnage, to life, our life. To blood ... Motherfucker! The heart, go for the heart, he’d said. A flash of white, elongated fang cinched it for me. Sanguinata. These were Sanguinata, and we were super screwed because Noir’s light was dimming and my night vision was good but not that good. My heel hit the bottom step. Somehow we’d made it. “Noir, come on!” He was mere feet away, holding them back.

“Go now. I’ll cover you,” Noir ordered. “With what? Goodwill? I’m not leaving you.” “I’m right behind you.” “Bullshit. Move it, now!” Another bolt. Another bloodsucker down. And then a body hit me from the side, slamming me into the ground and knocking K from my grasp. Sharp fingers dug into my flesh and rotten breath blasted me in the face. “Wila!” A roar reverberated off the tiles and then the Sanguinata was knocked off me by a massive shadow. Noir’s light went crazy, bouncing off walls and sliding off the newcomer, but it was enough for me to catch a glimpse, to know it was the same hound that had saved my arse with the Lupin. It tore the Sanguinata in two and then turned its head my way, eyes flashing violet. I grabbed K and then Noir was hauling me up and we were barreling up the stairs and out of hell.

“W HAT THE FUCK , Noir? What the actual fuck?” I shook my head, hands braced on the hood of the Mini. “Those were bloodsuckers, Sanguinata. What the fuck?” Noir had used his mojo to push the sheet of

metal back into place, sealing off the entrance temporarily, because they’d manage to peel it back eventually. The whole seal-up was shoddy. You’d have thought they’d have made more of an effort, bearing in mind what they were sealing up, unless ... unless the seal-up crew hadn’t known. Unless they’d taken shortcuts on the job. The woman at the Petting Zoo had thought there were Others down here. Had other neph thought the same? Had they peeled back the seal to get inside, unwittingly giving the monsters a way out? Noir paced in a tight back and forth circuit. “They lied. The Collective lied. They said they’d rounded all the Lost and incinerated them.” “The Lost?” “The Sanguinata who drank from other nephs lost their minds, they lost their grip on reality, and they were lost to us. They were supposed to be dead.” “Yeah, well, they’re not. Someone shoved them into the Underground and then sealed up the whole system. Who knows how many more of them are down there.” Noir stopped and met my gaze. “A whole population, Miss Bastion. A whole fucking population.” It was the first time I’d heard him utter a curse word with such vehemence, and for some reason when he said fuck it sounded more like an

invitation than a swear word. I cleared my throat. “But why? Why let them live?” He pressed his lips together. “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.” A thought hit me. “Wait. I think you were right earlier. I think they must know something. Fran, my friend who works for The Collective, said that they were forming an elite team. That, coupled with the missing neph reports for Southside, makes me think they’re already on the case.” “Yes, well, if they’re attempting to clean up their mess and stop it going public, they’re doing a piss poor job of it. The first point of call should have been resealing the damned breach.” “What are you going to do?” He took a shuddering breath. “Allow them to do their job.” Indignation stole my breath for a split second and then the words spilled out in a rush. “What? We can’t just let them brush this under the carpet. They lied to us for decades.” “Yes, and trust me, I intend to get to the bottom of this cover-up, but exposing the truth would only cause panic and discord. With a rogue faction of Shedim hiding out in our territory, and all the uncertainty and fear surrounding the Others’ integration into our society, such a betrayal is the last thing the citizens need.”

“Spoken like a true politician.” His jaw ticked. “I am no politician, Miss Bastion. I’m simply a man who can see the bigger picture, and right now, we need to focus on your lost Shedim colleague.” He was right, of course. “The Shedim can’t be down there. It would be suicide.” “Agreed. So, where else could they have taken him? There aren’t many places such creatures could hide without being noticed.” No, there weren’t. Northside was out. Eastside was way too busy. The hustle and bustle could mask many things but not the existence of creatures such as Azren. Even with his glamour, he cut an imposing figure and emanated a certain presence that caught the attention of passersby. If they’d been spotted, we’d have heard something on the radio or in The Daily Vine. So, where could they hide? Where could they have gone to ground? Somewhere cut off and abandoned. Somewhere neglected and avoided. Somewhere like the cemetery where a huge Other hound had come slinking out of a mausoleum. “Miss Bastion?” Man, he looked pale. And there was a fine sheen of perspiration on his forehead. “You look wiped out.” He winced. “Is it that obvious?” “As obvious as a baboon’s arsehole.”

“You certainly have a way with words.” I gave him a single shoulder shrug. “It’s a gift. How long before you recharge?” “A couple of hours or so until I’m running on a full tank again, but there are more to my skills than Arcana, Miss Bastion.” “I’m sure there are.” Pitch black sojourns into cemeteries where you’d killed a two-headed hound less than a week ago should be undertaken at your own risk, and preferably with backup, except my backup was flagging. He’d used up a ton of juice to fend off the Lost in the Underground, and if my hunch was correct, if the rogue Shedim were down there, then we were going to need Noir in top form. Taking him down there any other way would be irresponsible, regardless of his other skills. If anything happened to him, it would be on me. He’d saved my arse in the Underground, now it was my turn to save his. I patted the hood of the car. “I’m going to head back to the office, make a few calls, see what I can dig up. You should go rest up.” His eyes narrowed. “Miss Bastion, you cannot go up against these creatures alone. Make sure you call me.” My stomach quivered. “I’m not an idiot, Noir.” I yanked open the car door. “Come on, I’ll drop you off wherever you need to go.” He took a step back. “I think I’ve had enough

of small spaces for one day. I’ll walk to the main road and hail a taxi.” “If you’re sure.” He rolled up his sleeves and began to walk off down the road. “Call me, Miss Bastion.”

I’ D TAKEN the dirty fighting classes, and my body was naturally powerful. Solo was my middle name, and there hadn’t been a case that I’d had to call in backup for, but for some reason, right now, staring at the black maw of the mausoleum, my stomach tied itself into knots and my bladder screamed for release. This case was forcing me to break my solo streak, and if Taylem and Mack weren’t in Slumber I’d be on the phone right now recruiting them to join me, because the mark of a good investigator was to know when to call in help. I’d just never needed it before. Waiting wasn’t an option, but rushing in all gung ho wasn’t ideal either. Playing it by ear was the usual MO, but not this time. This time my gut advised extra caution. I’d go in, scope out the place, then call Noir once I knew what we were dealing with. Hopefully, he’d have had a chance to recharge by then. K sat snug in my hand, runes glowing softly, reassuring, comforting. We can do this, he said. We

can take the fuckers out. But in the back of my mind was the tiny voice that whispered, What if he’s dead already? You could be risking your life for nothing? For a Shedim that you were forced to harbor, who means nothing in the grand scheme of things. But that was where the voice lost me, because that wasn’t true. He did mean something to me. What he meant was still a mystery, all confused and muddled and shit. But it was there, a tenuous connection that was impossible to ignore. And, yeah, I could tell myself I was doing this to avoid getting ripped to shreds by Elora for losing her pet, that it was a selfish motivation to save my own life, but that lie left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue too. Azren mattered, and until I knew for sure he was dead, I wasn’t giving up on him. I took a deep breath, then K and I entered the stone structure.

17

P

anic was an instant vise around my chest, brutal and unforgiving. K flared to life, providing a momentary reprieve from the darkness that pressed in on me. Breathe. Focus. You can do this. The vise eased and musty air rushed into my lungs. Okay, now we were cooking. Reedy fingers of light slipped through cracks in the masonry, providing enough illumination for my night vision to kick into gear. The space was large enough not to feel claustrophobic, plus it was above ground. Bonus. But the Shedim base wouldn’t be so easily found. I walked deeper into the house of the dead. There had to be an entrance to the lair, some secret passageway, some— The ground disappeared beneath my feet, the air locked in my throat, and I was falling, butt

scraping earth, boots scrambling to gain purchase, down a sloping rabbit hole, and oomph, shit, that hurt. But, hey, I’d kept hold of K. I raised him to scan the cavern I’d slid into—an underground hidey-hole made of stone. Beams crisscrossed the ceiling, adding support to the structure. What was this place, and how many of these did Arcana City have? None of these spaces showed up on any maps. It was almost as if there was a hidden side to the city no one knew about, a side someone had buried. Time to explore. Mental maps weren’t my thing, which was why I’d had Barnaby equip K with a mapping rune. As long as the crossbow was in my hand, I’d be able to find my way. The darkness receded as we moved through the tunnels until we were following the weak light that filtered down the walkways toward us. K dimmed to allow us to track the light and then voices drifted down the walkway. Chanting— guttural, harsh, and primal—filled the tunnel. My pulse spiked. This was it. It had to be. K went dark in my hand. He knew what I needed. Stealth. The tunnel was getting wider, we were approaching a chamber, and the light intensified. Sidling up to the entrance, I peeked into the room. The entrance led to a balcony, the room was below. Okay, just a peek and then we were out of here. I’d

call Noir and wait for backup. Shuffling forward in a crouch brought us up against the bars to the barrier, and keeping low, I peered over the ledge into the room below. A ball of light sat in the center pulsing softly, and inside the light, on his knees, hands fisted and wrists bound in shackles, was Azren. Alive. He was alive. Relief bloomed warm in my chest. The symbols that appeared when his glamour was gone slid across his skin even though his glamour was holding. What were they doing to him? A female figure glided toward him, huge, powerful, and carrying a silver whip. My body tensed. The light caught the side of her face. It was the Shedim that had gotten away, and then she pulled back her arm and lashed out with the whip. It smashed into the light with a crack like lightning, and Azren threw back his head and roared in pain. The sound was like a magnet. And my body acted on instinct. Forgetting the plan, forgetting sanity, I leapt off the story-high balcony. The world rushed by and heads whipped up, maws opening wide. They knew I was here, and they were going to pay for what they’d done to him. K was shooting off bolts before my feet hit the ground. A Shedim to my left fell back clutching his shoulder, another hit the ground to my right, and I landed in a crouch, aiming at the bitch with the whip.

Her eyes flared in panic, but instead of running or attacking me, she turned on Azren, raising the whip to attack again. The whip cracked into Azren, shattering the light around him just as my bolt pierced her neck. She spun, clutching at her throat with one hand, and the whip end lashed at me. Something fizzed and cracked, sending an electrical charge sizzling across my skin, and then she was down, and I was hauled off my feet by the back of my neck. Talons dug into my skin and hot breath tickled the back of my head. “What have you done? What have you done!” The thing shook me hard enough to make my teeth rattle, and then I was airborne. Flying toward the stone wall. Several thoughts rushed through my mind, the most prominent being the calculations of velocity and impact courtesy of another rune etched into K. Basic crux—I was so fucking dead. And then my flight halted, leaving me suspended in the air a foot from the wall, a foot from being crushed. I hit the ground hard enough to rattle bone, but I was alive and that was what mattered. “Move, Miss Bastion!” Noir? Yeah. There he was on the balcony throwing his lightning bolts and turning the chamber into chaos. Azren, I needed to get to Azren. Ducking and diving, with Noir providing cover, I made it to the

semi-conscious Shedim. “Azren. Come on, we need to get you out of here.” He groaned but helped me to help him up. His huge frame was a crushing weight I was determined to carry. Lightning slammed into a Shedim hurtling at us, knocking it out of the way. “Stairs to your left!” Noir instructed. It was a minefield of light and sound and we were almost there, and then Noir ran out of ammo. The look on his face when he realized he was tapped out, the sheer devastation, had my throat closing up, because the Shedim had realized it too, and all eyes were on me and Azren. “Run,” Azren whispered. “You need to run.” “I’m not leaving you.” He tried to shove me, to extricate himself. Thank God he was too weak. The Shedim closed in. Noir was a blur as he ran across the balcony to get to the steps, but even if he made it down here, there would be nothing he could do. “Stop!” I raised my hand to ward him off. Light glinted off the ruby on my finger. The ring Valance had forced me to wear, the one that could summon him. Heat surged in my chest as I grabbed the band and twisted. The Shedim leapt toward us and a roar shook the chamber. A massive body landed in front of us,

and a scream tore from my throat. The monstrous hound shot me a glare as if to say, Really? After I saved your arse twice? And then it attacked the Shedim. Noir appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Come on.” He ducked under Azren’s other arm, and together we began our ascent while the hound covered our escape. A growl and then a pained whine pierced the air. A glance over my shoulder showed the hound down, a spear in its side. It shook itself, clawing back to its feet only to receive the blow of a whip to its massive head. The skin split like a ripe peach. “No.” I shoved Azren at Noir. “Get him out. Do it now.” Noir grabbed at my wrist. “You can’t save it.” He was probably right, but we’d left it to fend for itself with the Sanguinata. I wasn’t leaving it again. I wasn’t leaving it to die. “Get Azren out. Please.” And then I was running down the stairs, K up and firing bolts to clear a path to my mysterious savior. The Shedim backed up, faced with a hail of lethal metal, and I skidded to a halt in front of the hound. It snapped at me, not to wound but to ward me off, to urge me to flee. “Sorry, buddy, but you’re stuck with me. You think you can make it out of here? Make a run for it while I cover us?”

My bolt bag grew heavy as more bolts returned. I was expelling them so fast my arm was a blur and the heat from the motion seared my shoulder. This was gonna sting like a bitch later. The hound rose to its feet, the bolt still protruding from its side, and we began to jog toward the stairs. Just a little while longer, arm, don’t give up on me yet. My muscles went into a spasm with the next bolt. It clattered to the ground, and my momentum was lost. Oh, fuck. A gust of air blew back my hair and the Shedim froze. An arm slipped around my waist. “So much for not needing the ring,” Valance said smugly. I made a grab for the hound, fingers tangling in the soft fur at its neck, just as the world spun and fell away.

18

W

ith the two imposing males in residence, the kitchen felt way too small, the air too thin, like atop a mountain. The hound was gone; either it hadn’t made it out with us or we’d lost it along the way. My heart ached for the creature. It’d saved me three times, and I’d been unable to return the favor. Azren was out cold on the office sofa, and I was stuck between two guys who made me feel even smaller than my fivefoot-three height. “You could have been killed,” Valance said for the third time. “I think she’s perfectly aware of the situation,” Noir said calmly. Valance rolled his eyes. “And since when do you let Arcana speak for you?” He advanced on me; the cool, calm, lazy attitude fell away and in its

place was fire and fury. “I told you to find the location of the resistance, not go in crossbow blazing. What were you thinking?” An answering heat bloomed in my chest. “That was the bloody plan, but they were hurting him. I reacted to save him. To stop them.” “You lied to me,” Noir said softly, his chin tucked in. “You knew where to look and you sent me away.” “Yeah, I lied. I was trying to save your life. Look, I was planning to scope out the place to be sure and then call you. It just didn’t work out that way.” “Thank goodness I followed you, or you’d be dead.” I sighed. “There’s no denying that. Thank you.” “You’d all be dead if not for me,” Valance said. But there was no attitude in his tone this time. He was merely stating a fact. He exhaled and walked over to the window to look out into the night. “What’s done is done. Arguing won’t resolve anything. You had the location of the Shedim, but now they’ll have moved on.” My heart sank. He was right. There was no way they’d still be there. “But we got Azren back.” He turned back into the room, his gaze speculative. “Yes. But you didn’t retrieve the dagger. They have it. The full moon is two weeks away; if you don’t have something to show for your

efforts by then ...” He ran a hand through his hair. It was the first time I’d seen him actually agitated. “At least they didn’t kill Azren,” Noir said. “Yeah, that’s been bugging me.” Valance’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.” “Look, they had him for hours. If they wanted him dead, then why take so long to do it? What was with the light show and the whipping? I just don’t get it.” “Whipping?” Valance was watching me intently. “What exactly were they doing to him?” I puffed out my cheeks and expelled a breath. “There was this light around him and they were whipping it and then it shattered. But he was screaming in pain.” “He should wake up soon,” Noir said. “We can ask him exactly what happened then.” I arched a brow. “We?” Noir shot me an irritated look. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Miss Bastion. This concerns the whole of Arcana. I may not be able to involve The Collective on this case without putting your life at risk, but I can sure as hell make sure I represent the Institute’s interests by monitoring its progress.” Valance studied Noir. “You’re concerned about the contract, aren’t you?” Noir met Valance’s gaze. “Yes. Can you tell me

I shouldn’t be?” “No.” Valance dropped his gaze. “You should be wary. You should be ready for whatever Elora has planned.” So, this went beyond capturing the rogue Shedim. Noir’s hunch had been correct, but Valance had to know what his mother was planning. “You could just tell us what she has planned.” Valance’s mouth twisted. “I wish I knew. Unfortunately, I’m not in her circle of confidence. That position is reserved for her harem of lovers. Her five mates are the only ones privy to her plans.” “Five mates? Greedy much?” Valance shrugged and leaned back against the windowsill. “Draconi females are polyamorous but her mates are not permitted to take other lovers. It’s a visceral need for them to have more than one mate.” “You mean they’re highly sexed?” He chuckled. “It’s not about sex, it’s about sustenance. A Draconi female expends a lot of energy, and after her awakening she’s like a battery that’s constantly leaking. Her mates keep her topped up. Together they form a circuit of power, and Mother has made sure to choose the most powerful Draconi males for her mates. She’s also passed a law forbidding any female to take more than two mates.”

“Why would she do that?” He gave me a wry smile. “Two mates, chosen with care, are enough to keep a female alive. Being the liege isn’t enough. She wants to be indisputably the most powerful Draconi. She proves it year after year at the Triumph Games. Draconi are elected to challenge her, male or female. If they win, they get to ask for a boon, anything they wish, and Mother can’t refuse. No one has ever beaten her.” “Elected? Not volunteer?” “No one volunteers anymore and so she elects. It’s probably why there have only been male lieges up until now,” Valance added. “Wait a second,” Noir said. “So a male liege would share his mate with other males?” Valance shrugged. “She’d have to provide several heirs before she’d be permitted to follow her instincts and take more mates, but yes, that’s how it was. My mother ushered in a new reign, literally. She rarely takes my counsel.” “She listened to you when you asked her to spare me ...” My eyes narrowed, and I took several steps until I was merely a foot away from him. “Why did you do that? Why did you give me that ring? Why the fuck do you care what happens to me?” “Wila?” Noir’s tone held warning, but before I knew it I was trapped in Valance’s gaze. The iridescent blue of his eyes mesmerized me

and the slitted pupils flared, sucking me in, tugging me toward him until his breath mingled with mine, and then I was yanked back against another chest. Zesty cologne cleared the fog in my mind. Noir pushed me behind him to step between me and Valance. “Are you deliberately trying to breach the Treaty?” My ears pricked. There was something in his tone, a warning rather than chastisement. Concern rather than anger. What the heck? A glance at Valance’s usually composed features showed him to look shaken. His gaze slid past Noir to me. His brow furrowed and he looked away. “I’m fine.” Noir’s shirt-clad shoulders relaxed. There was something else going on here, something that needed further examination. “Azren is stirring.” Gilbert’s voice echoed around the room. Thank goodness my ghostly friend was back on form. Noir and Valance headed for the office where we’d laid Azren awkwardly on the two-seater sofa, his legs dangling off the end. He was awake now and sitting up. Seeing him alert, alive, made my chest ache with relief. He zeroed in on me and his gaze softened a fraction. This was the powerful creature of fire and fury that the dragon liege relied upon, the monster that did her bidding and brought resisters to heel,

and here he was sitting on my sofa, staring at me as if I were wreathed in a corona of rainbows. It made me want to leap across the room and onto his lap. “You could have been killed.” His tone was raw, open, and vulnerable, but there was an edge of anger to it. Something inside me, the part that was kept wound tight, loosened a little, and it was as if I’d been propelled to the edge of a forbidden chasm. No. No, we couldn’t have that. “Seriously?” I threw up my hands. “And you looked like you were having a lovely stroll.” “I can handle myself.” The hardness was back in his tone. “I didn’t get to be the liege’s first Shedim by being weak. I’d have found a way to escape.” “Yeah, of course you would have, after you’d been whipped to death.” He ran a hand over his face. “You want a thank you? You got lucky, but don’t deceive yourself into thinking you were in control. You could have been killed.” His eyelids fluttered and he sat back and covered his face. My feet carried me over to the sofa, where I parked my butt next to Azren. I tentatively placed my hand on his back; the muscles tensed beneath my fingers but he didn’t pull away. “What did they do to you?” Valance asked. “I can’t remember. There was pain beneath my

skin and in my head.” He touched his temple. “It was like a thousand tiny needles pierced my flesh over and over.” “Did they say anything?” Valance pressed. Azren closed his eyes. “Something about a key and remembering.” He opened his eyes, his pupils dilating. “They said it was time to recall the past and fight for the truth.” Valance’s jaw flexed. “But they didn’t tell you what that truth was?” Azren tucked in his chin. “I can’t recall. I think ... I think they were trying to show me something ...” He raised his head, his expression faraway. “There was a door. I was close to something, but then I heard Wila’s voice and it was gone.” Valance turned away, hands on hips, his shoulders tight. Noir pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. “Well, we’re glad you’re all right.” All right? Was that it? “Hang on a sec. They took Azren, they hurt him, but they obviously didn’t finish what they started. We need to do something. We have to hunt them down and stop them before they come back to finish the job.” Valance’s shoulders relaxed and he turned to us. “Exactly. They’ll come for him, so we wait, and we let them come to us. And when they do, we’ll be ready.”

There was that we again. “Since when are we a we?” “Since now,” Noir said simply. “I’m sorry, Miss Bastion, but you’re just going to have to accept that this is one case you won’t be able to take on alone.” “And if Elora finds out you’re involved? What then?” “Leave that to me,” Valance said tersely. “I suggest we all get some rest and we can reconvene to discuss a way forward in the morning.” “I’ll set some wards around your home tailored to pick up on anything that isn’t neph,” Noir said. “I’ll need some of Azren’s blood to exempt him from the warding. Wards aren’t my strong suit, so they won’t prevent the creatures gaining access, but they will slow them down and you’ll be alerted. It will give you time to get out.” Noir drew a handkerchief from his pocket. Azren nicked his own thumb with his razor teeth, then swiped it across the clean white linen. “I’ll swing by in the morning,” Noir said. It wasn’t until both men had walked out of the door that it hit me. Noir’s involvement I could understand—I’d saved his kid, I’d almost died doing it, he felt he owed me, and then there was the whole Shedim-in-our-territory thing. He was protecting Arcana by being involved. But what did Valance get out of this? Why the heck was he

helping us?

MOONLIGHT STREAMED in through Azren’s bedroom window, highlighting the chaos the Shedim had left behind. He’d have to sleep on a camp bed until we could drag another one up here from the floor below. I finished making it up and then lowered him onto it. He winced and then sighed as he lay back. “How’s Trevor?” he asked gruffly. “Asleep and healing. He’ll be okay.” “He fought like a demon,” Azren said. He swallowed hard. “He fought to save me and then they cut him down. I thought he was dead.” His chest rose and fell. “He’s a warrior.” Trevor had tried to protect Azren? “I guess he likes you more than he lets on.” Azren offered me a half smile. “Either that or he’s beginning to consider me part of his pack.” “And are you?” His eyes darkened, and his expression hardened. “There is only one place I can ever belong. And once this is over, I’ll return.” A hollow space opened up inside me. I swallowed and lowered my gaze. “How’s the stomach wound?” He gripped the edge of his T-shirt and peeled it

up to expose smooth, unmarred skin. The wound from the Lupin had healed nicely. My fingers skimmed the velvety, taut flesh, and he sucked in a breath, forcing my gaze up to lock with his. My mouth was suddenly too dry. “I thought we’d lost you.” I’d tried for the light, jokey tone, but the words came out breathless and way too sincere. “Oh, God.” I tucked in my chin. His fingers caressed my cheek, sending a shiver of need through me, and I met his unguarded gaze, dark and compelling and filled with a longing that echoed mine. I needed to pull away, but he acted first, curling his fingers into his palm and lowering his fist. “Tell me what happened?” he asked. My chest tightened as all the events of the past few hours hit me. All the fear and anxiety surged up fresh and new. The words tumbled from my lips —coming home to find him taken, Trevor wounded, Gilbert weak, and then the Underground, almost getting eaten by the Lost and then seeing him being abused under the mausoleum. “Elora sent me, not only to bind the Shedim, but to keep you safe while doing it. You should not have had to save me.” I offered him half a smile. “Sexist much?” His hand was on the sheets, close to mine, our fingers almost touching. The urge to shift my pinky, to graze his skin with mine, was almost too strong.

Panic flared in my chest, because this wasn’t lust, this wasn’t attraction, this was ... no. Two days— almost three—that was how long we’d known each other. This was heightened emotion from a heap of fucked-up shit that had been thrown our way. What did they call it, that survivors’ bond thing? It would pass. I quickly stood. “You need to get some rest.” He sighed and closed his eyes. The sun would be up soon, but there would be no sleep for me, not when I was wound so tight. Not tonight. Not without a trip to the basement.

I’ D BEEN WORKING ALONE for so long that the idea of having backup, real boots-on-the-ground backup, was both frightening and appealing. “Stop brooding on it and drink your beer,” the voice instructed. I took a swig from my bottle. “I can’t help it. On the one hand, having the support would be great, but these are men I’d be responsible for.” “Powerful men in their own right,” the voice said. “You’d hardly have to babysit. Besides, it’s time you had a little eye candy floating about.” “I don’t need eye candy, but you’re right about one thing—Noir and Valance both probably have

more power in their pinky fingers than I do in my whole body. But this business is mine, this case is mine. No matter how you look at it, if anything goes wrong, it’ll be on me.” “True, but won’t it be nice to have three powerful men watching out for you for a change?” “I’m an independent woman. I can watch out for myself, but ... Yeah, it would be nice.” “I could watch out for you too ... You just have to let me out.” I drained my beer. “And this is where I say goodbye.” “Chicken.” “Nope, just wise.” “You’ll let me out, Wila. You’ll let me out soon because I’m the only one who can truly guide you, and when we’re finally together, we will be a force to be—" I slammed the basement door, cutting off his words. The sun was rising, and the kitchen was bathed in the glorious light of a new day. Sleep could suck it. I had a show to watch and popcorn to eat, and the rest would just have to wait. To be continued... Wila’s adventures continue in City of the Lost. Click the image and Grab your copy now!

Chapter 1 My legs ached and my lungs burned as I hurtled down the empty, gray corridor of the university, past notice boards and fire extinguishers pinned to the wall. A big, juicy blood bag with legs, that’s what I was, and the predators on my tail were parched. But I was almost at my destination. A week ago, the Lost had been slower— sluggish even—much easier to take down. Now, the fuckers were getting faster and smarter, we’d had to get inventive. Give them what they loved—a chase. They’d obviously fed enough to get their Sanguinata mojo back, shame it didn’t help them regain sanity. Sucking on neph blood had driven

them completely loopy. It had been why The Collective had sealed them up in the Underground railway system. They should have exterminated them all, but someone, somewhere had other ideas, and here we were—seal breached, Lost running wild, and me and my crew having to clean up the mess. So, yeah, running shoes would have come in handy right about now, but my boots would have to do. They took me up a flight of stairs, through a set of doors and into a lecture theatre. Noir didn’t look up from his ministrations at the bottom of the descending rows of desks, but Azren did, his steely jaw clenching at the sight of me. Was that relief in the ice man’s eyes? I barreled down the steps, past neat rows of desks and landed with an oomph by the lecturer’s podium. “Tada!” I did the jazz hands. Noir snorted in amusement. I shot Azren a look. “At least someone appreciates my humor.” A cloud passed over the moon blocking out the silvery light streaming in through the classroom window. Noir finished casting the trap and rushed toward a metal storage cupboard and pressed his back to the wall beside it. Azren fell into a crouch behind the lectern, and I ducked into the shadows in the alcove where the projector was stored. Noir caught my eye from across the room. His eyes

glinted in the gloom, asking me a question. I did the non-verbal communication thing, hoping it didn’t make me look constipated. Noir nodded. He got it. I’d led The Lost here with my scent, and once they were inside the room, they’d be able to smell us with their super bloodsucker olfactory system. Hiding meant they’d focus only on our scent and hurtle straight into Noir’s trap. Sure enough, a second later, the door creaked open and they filed in. In no rush now they had their prey cornered. They spread out, five, sinewy, hungry Lost crawling down toward us, weaving between the seats, noses in the air as they followed the trail we’d left. Sweat broke out on my brow and my breath grew shallow. Why were they moving so slowly? Why the caution, dammit? Come on, come get me. Azren remained completely still, shoulder muscles bunched beneath the thin T-shirt he was wearing. The dagger I’d loaned him was pressed to his side in a white-knuckled grip. If all went to plan, then he wouldn’t need it. Almost there, just a little farther. They hesitated on the final step that led to the main floor where the lecturers did their thing. Could they sense the trap? Could they see the lines of Arcana magic that Noir had etched into the ground? The cloud passed and moonlight lanced into the

room. The ground glittered, and for a moment, the circle Noir had drawn was clearly visible to the naked eye. From the irate look on Noir’s face, that certainly wasn’t supposed to happen. The Lost let out a shriek and began to back up. They creatures may be unhinged, but they obviously weren’t dumb. They’d managed to give us the slip two nights running now. Losing them again wasn’t an option, especially with five dead nephs in their wake. The river bed had welcomed the victims, two homeless neph, a young couple, and a student. My stomach churned with sick guilt. We’d disposed of the bodies, gotten rid of the evidence of this new scourge on our city because, as much as I hated it, we needed to protect The Collectives secret. There was way too much uncertainty in Arcana City, way too much conflict between Northside and Southside, and this could be the spark that could ignite it all. Giving The Collective a kick up the backside wasn’t an option, not unless we wanted to be the ones swimming with the fishes. The Collective didn’t mess about when it came to silencing threats, and us knowing about their deception was a huge threat. Damn, I wish I could bill them for cleaning up their fucking mess. After all we’d done in the past few days, we weren’t losing this pack. I’d have no more deaths

on my conscience. The sooner The Collective put their elite team on the case, the fucking better. But the Lost were backing up, turning and heading up toward the exit. Shit. There was only one way to lure them into the trap now, only one way to force them to bypass intellect and act on primal need. I stepped out to the shadows, swiped the dagger across my palm and held up my hand. “Hey! Dinner time.” I squeezed my palm forcing blood to pool out of the wound and drip onto the ground. “What are you doing?” Azren hissed. Noir didn’t question me, instead he copied my move, slitting open his palm and stepping out of his hiding place hand held aloft. The Lost froze by the door, heads up, noses sniffing the air, and then with a primal, bloodthirsty scream, they attacked. Streaks of black against the mottled greenish-gray carpet of the lecture theatre, they poured down the stairs and slammed into the Arcana trap. It swallowed them whole, sucking them up into the air and holding them suspended four feet above the ground. They twisted and bucked, as magic fizzed and flared around them. The sharp electric scent of Noir’s signature power stung my nostrils. Azren stepped up to the boundary, studying the creatures with interest. “What happens now?”

Noir joined him. “Now, we end them.” He clicked his fingers and the trap imploded taking The Lost with it and leaving an echo of their bloodcurdling screams. They were gone, leaving nothing but a circular singe mark in the carpet. “Well, this certainly beats hand to claw combat.” I sagged against the lectern and sniffed the air—a burning charcoal smell reminiscent of summer days around the outdoor grill. My stomach rumbled. “Anyone for pizza and chicken wings?”

AZREN ATE PIZZA like it was going out of fashion. Noir blinked across the table at him, an uneaten slice of pepperoni on his plate. “Amazing, ain’t it?” Trevor said in a stage whisper. “It’s like the longest inhale, except instead of air, he’s sucking in food. We should enter him in an all-you-can-eat contest.” Noir blinked and dropped his gaze to his plate. Azren shot Trevor a slit eyed glare, that a couple of weeks ago, would have made Trevor lose bladder control. But something had changed between the two males. After the Shedim attack on the house, after Trevor had leapt to Azren’s defense, the dynamic between the two males had shifted into

something more than cautious tolerance. Dare I be so bold as to call it hesitant friendship? Azren polished off his fifteenth slice of pizza. Thank goodness for buy one get one free promotion. I’d opted for two of the deals, and there was still pizza left over. He sat back and sighed. “I will miss this most of all, I think.” I rolled my eyes. “Ouch.” The corner of his mouth quirked slightly. Not a smile but almost. We were getting there. And why did that give me such a thrill? He pushed back his chair. “I’m turning in. If we get another hit, come get me.” The radio crackled, Missy Honour’s voice a steady hum in the background. “Will do,” Gilbert said from his perch by the machine. Azren strode from the room, taking his sweet, fresh scent with him. Gil had agreed to be our monitor. Not needing to sleep meant he could trawl the underground radio stations and black sites on the infoweb for possible Lost sightings and keep us updated. Trevor combed the local rags, looking for any odd news stories that might link to Lost attacks or sightings. Between us, we’d managed to minimize the damage done by the creatures that shouldn’t even exist. Noir patted the corners of his mouth with a

napkin. “I should go too.” “Aw, so soon? Trevor whined. “I thought we were going to play chess?” Trevor had finally found someone who loved the game as much as he did. He’d even forgiven Noir for being a stinking Arcana. Noir smiled warmly. “Trust me, Trevor, my friend, I’d rather be curled up by the fire with a brandy and a good game of chess than anywhere else right now. But, unfortunately, duty calls. I have an event to attend tomorrow morning, and my date likes to talk and expects me to listen. Sleep is essential.” My ears pricked up. “Who’s the lucky girl?” Not that I cared, but teasing Noir and trying to ruffle his smooth feathers was always a fun pastime. He arched a brow, tongue in cheek. “I believe you met her at the charity ball a few weeks ago.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Be careful, Mr. Noir, you hang out with a woman more than once and she may begin to think you’re an item.” “Oh, really?” he drawled. “I believe you and I have hung out several times now.” I smirked. “Fighting off bloodsuckers and Shedim really don’t count as dates.” He leaned in, his baby blues darkening to wet denim, his expression serious. “It’s certainly more stimulating than polite conversation with the

uppercrust.” We locked gazes, and a fission of familiar electricity bounced between us. It happened when we got close, or when he accidentally touched me. A little fizz and pop, but neither of us had mentioned it out loud, preferring to focus on the back and forth banter, teasing, flirty but harmless, because aside from the fact that Noir was Arcana, and Arcana were off limits, we had a great friend vibe going that I wasn’t interested in messing with. I was the first to break eye contact. “You hear anything more about the elite team?” He shook his head, sobering. “The Collective have been closed lipped about any activity of late.” Unease writhed beneath my skin. It had been three weeks since we’d discovered the breach, surely they’d have acted by now? The Draconi prince had somehow managed to wangle extra time for us with his bone-munching mother. And thank fuck he had, because with this Lost problem to deal with we were stretched thin. We now had until the lunar eclipse which was over two weeks away. “I’m surprised your friend knew about it,” Noir said. “Have you spoken to her?” “No. I tried calling a couple of times but keep getting her busy signal. Eloise thinks she may finally have gotten her first assignment outside of Arcana City.” He nodded. “Well, I’m sure this elite team will

surface soon.” He didn’t sound too confidant though. “And if it doesn’t? What if we’re wrong and the team isn’t even real? What if Fran got her wires cross and The Collective don’t know a damn thing about the breaches in the Underground? It’s been almost a month. It can’t take that long to get shit done.” He stared at the empty pizza box. “Then we do what we have to. We recruit neph and we clear the Underground ourselves.” He’d resealed the breach once we’d escaped from the Underground, and we’d gone back two days ago to find it still sealed up. The two packs we’d taken out since then must have escaped prior to us sealing the breach, at least I hoped they had; otherwise, it meant we had another breach somewhere. “Let’s hope we took out the only Lost that managed to escape.” I rubbed my eyes. “I need sleep.” Noir nodded. “Get some rest. It’s late.” Almost eleven p.m. to be precise. Usually, I’d be up watching old movies, but the last two days had tapped me out. Seeing Noir to the door, I locked up and then headed upstairs to bed.

A DOOR STOOD ajar and light poured into the darkness. This wasn’t the way, this wasn’t right, but there was no stopping my feet. There was no going back. The door swung open and what lay beyond rushed toward me. Death, carnage and blood greeted me along with screams for mercy and manic laughter that drifted on the wind like a potent stench. Powerful scaled beasts flew through the air raining fire on the scattered groups of people on the ground. Frightened faces burned to ash in an instant, and still, the laughter echoed around me. In the distance, up high on a ridge, an emerald dragon perched. It exuded power as its startling green eyes swept over the end of world. “Mine,” it said. “All mine.” I sat up slick with sweat and with that icky feeling in the pit of my stomach that accompanies a nightmare. Tendrils of the dream clung to my mind, mainly the yucky death bits, but most predominately, the evil villain laugh that the dragon had emitted. Is this what they called work stress related trauma? This was the fourth time in the last two weeks that I’d had a nightmare, and they were all similar—death and carnage and evil dragons. I had a serious Elora complex. Shoving off the duvet and pulling on my robe, I headed out of the room in search of a soothing milky concoction to trick my brain into thinking safety and warmth. What would be perfect right

now was one of Matron’s herbal teas. I’d have to pay her a visit and pick up some soon. The kitchen was shrouded in darkness. I stepped over the threshold and paused staring at the twin, glowing green orbs that stared back at me from the darkness. My heart leapt into my throat to choke me with a triple fast beat, and then my brain finally deduced what I was seeing. I flipped on the lights. “Fucking hell, Azren, if you want to give me a heart attack, can you please do it by feeding me excessive amounts of fatty food instead of lurking in the dark?” He grunted in response and then buried his head in his hands. Okay, the guy was pretty nonverbal most of the time, but more so of late, and the quick glimpse I’d caught of his face showed smudges under his startling green eyes. I padded over to the fridge. “Can’t sleep? Oh, wait, you don’t sleep.” He huffed and raised his head. “I don’t have to, but I was bored so I drifted off ... It wasn’t pleasant.” Grabbing the milk, I retrieved a pan from the cupboard. “Bad dreams?” “Nightmare. Sleep is overrated.” “Agreed.” I poured some milk into the pan. “You want some hot cocoa?” He glanced up in confusion.

Oh, yeah. He probably had no clue what that was. “It’s a milky drink that does wonders to chase away the lingering vestiges of bad dreams. It says so on the packet.” I held out the tub to him. “See?” Fucking Cocoa King had hit a gold mine when they’d hit upon adding that to their promotional material, because what kid didn’t want to chase away the nightmares. Cocoa sales had tripled. Looked like it worked on adults too, ha! He shrugged. “Sure.” I made the cocoa in silence. We hadn’t known each other long but being around the guy almost constantly for the better part of a month had attuned me to some of his more regular moods. This one was what I called the classic dark brood, bottom lip slightly pouted, brows fractionally drawn, and distant gaze. Yep, this was one of my favorites because I could so relate. I set a mug in front of him. “Okay, quit stealing my thunder with the classic brooding pose. Spill. What crawled up your arse and died?” He was silent for long beat, no eye roll, no snarky comment about my choice of phrase. Nothing. Damn, this was bad. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. “The lunar eclipse is approaching, and we have nothing to show my liege.” He looked right at me, and my stomach did a mini flip. Ah, yeah. That particular worry had been giving

me a dodgy curry belly the last couple of days too. Lucky for him, we didn’t share a bathroom. I broke eye contact and carefully poured cocoa into two mugs. “It’s not like we haven’t tried.” I pointed out. “We trawled the catacombs beneath the mausoleum for two days. They’ve taken to ground somewhere else and until they make a move, we won’t know where that is. Thanks to Valance we still have two weeks to get something on the Shedim.” I placed a mug in front of him and took the seat opposite regretting it immediately when he locked gazes with me. Shadows lurked in his irises, writhing and reaching for me. Dread bloomed like a black orchid in my chest, and my pulse skipped a beat. I hated how he was able to wrench these contradictory emotions from me, a delicate balance of attract and repel. I dropped my attention to my cocoa. “It won’t matter what efforts we’ve made” His voice was rough, almost jagged. “She won’t care how hard we’ve tried if there are no results to show for our labors. She’ll make an example of us. I lost the dagger, the special dagger she forged just for this task. Elora doesn’t like to be disappointed.” My heart beat picked up echoing his agitation. “Wait a second. She made the dagger just so you could capture Shedim? When? How did she know you’d get the chance to come this side of the

border?” “She didn’t. I’m the official face of Elora’s attack on the resistance. I’ve brought her many rebel Shedim who’ve skulked back into Draconi territory with a view to recruitment. I’ve seen her torture them, even when it is plain they will not break. I’m familiar with her brand of pain. It’s not something you recover from easily.” Gooseflesh broke out up my arms. “Well that explains why the rogues wanted to hurt you so bad. You think you could have filled me in on that tidbit of info?” “It hardly matters why they took me. What matters is what Elora will do to you. Are you listening to me?” Of course I’d heard, but the facade, my unbreakable front wasn’t easily penetrated and any turmoil that lay beneath would remain hidden. “Yeah, I heard you. Pain like I’ve never known etcetera ... I think you’re underestimating my powers of persuasion.” His face hardened. “This is no joke, Wila. She will hurt you. It’s what she knows. It’s what makes her who she is.” A killer, that’s what she was. But not him. Not by choice. What hold did she have over him? “I don’t get it. You do her bidding, you go on about how she saved you, but right now you actually sound like you don’t like her very much.”

“Like doesn’t come into it. Leaders don’t get to where they are by being liked. They get to where they are by doing what must be done to ensure the survival of the many. Elora is an effective leader.” Was this the shit they were being fed over the border? Man, he had it so twisted. “You’re wrong. A leader should inspire loyalty not just through fear and gratitude but through shared ideals. Do the Shedim truly share her views? Do you?” He dropped his gaze to the steaming cup of cocoa, his fists clenched on the table top. “This is a pointless conversation. We will find the rogue Shedim, and we will return with the head of their leader. Elora will be appeased. There will be no punishment.” “And so it has been said, and so it shall be done.” My voice was a sardonic boom. His lips twisted in annoyance at my mocking tone, and there was a flash of doubt in his eyes. No. Not doubt. It was fear. I’d never seen him afraid, even when he’d been trapped in the ball of light under the mausoleum with one of the Shedim laying into him with a glowing whip. He’d been in pain, sure, but fear hadn’t crossed his brutal features. Now, in the relative safety of my kitchen, with a mug of hot cocoa at his fingertips, he was scared. Comprehension was a prickle across my skin. He was afraid, but not for himself. He was terrified for me.

My throat tightened. A scalding sip of cocoa did the trick, enough to plaster a faux smile on my face. “You’re right. They’ll make a false move soon and then we’ll have them, and don’t worry about pain, I’m sure there’s a potion somewhere that can numb that shit.” He swallowed. “I hope so, Wila. I hope so.” Early morning light crept across the kitchen and bathed the table in warmth. Azren tipped back his head and gulped downed his cocoa, the thick column of his throat bobbing was suddenly the most mesmerizing thing I’d ever seen. I dropped my gaze to my mug tamping down the urge to reach out and touch him. He wasn’t mine to touch. He belonged to Elora, and there was no acting on the powerful attraction that was blooming between us. In fact, I’d probably be forgiven for thinking it was all in my head, because the past week Azren had done his best not to be in the same room with me unless he had to. Azren set down his mug. “We should make another sweep of the catacombs. Maybe there is something we missed.” There wouldn’t be, we’d combed the shit out of that place, but if it made him feel better. “Sure. Let’s go look for clues, Nancy Drew.”

Grab your copy now!

OTHER BOOKS BY DEBBIE CASSIDY

The Gatekeeper Chronicles Coauthored with Jasmine Walt Marked by Sin Hunted by Sin Claimed by Sin The Witch Blood Chronicles (Spin-off to the Gatekeeper Chronicles) Binding Magick Defying Magick Embracing Magick Unleashing Magick The Fearless Destiny Series Beyond Everlight Into Evernight Under Twilight

The Chronicles of Midnight Protector of Midnight Champion of Midnight Secrets of Midnight Shades of Midnight Savior of Midnight Chronicles of Arcana City of Demons City of the Lost Novellas Blood Blade

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debbie Cassidy lives in England, Bedfordshire, with her three kids and very supportive husband. Coffee and chocolate biscuits are her writing fuels of choice, and she is still working on getting that perfect tower of solitude built in her back garden. Obsessed with building new worlds and reading about them, she spends her spare time daydreaming and conversing with the characters in her head – in a totally non psychotic way of course. She writes High Fantasy and Urban Fantasy. Connect with Debbie via her website at debbiecassidyauthor.com or twitter @authordcassidy. Or sign up to her Newsletter to stay in the know.