If I walked away from this mission having learned only one thing, it would be that millennia of shifting sand dunes were no match for a stubbornly brilliant paranormal archivist. Unfortunately, the odds of me actually walking away were decreasing every second.
“Hey, Miriam, I could use some help over here!” I shouted as I deflected an obsidian sickle.
“This evening has to be perfect.” Cecilia straightened Saegan’s bow tie with shaking hands. “We must impress the Minderas so they’ll invest in Master Gador’s business.” And she needed to impress Mastor Gador with her first dinner as his new housekeeper.
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An electric pulse jerks my muscles awake. I gasp, filling my lungs with air. My heart pounds against my chest as it rushes me back to life.
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“What were we looking for again?” Harvey asked.
“I already told you. I can’t remember the title, but I do remember the book had a bright blue cover.” Shelly picked up a book and showed it to him. “Like this one. Actually, that’s exactly the right shade.” She popped open the cover and began skimming the contents.
The tiny collar weighed heavy in my hand. I’d always know Victor was special, the kind of kitten who had magic hidden deep inside. Despite his belief that he could fly, he had taken one too many risks.
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The booming of the tribunal’s drums rivals even that of the cannons firing outside the city walls. That the High Council would go to the trouble of putting on a public trial even while besieged testifies to their displeasure. I don’t think Azer, the judge, has cracked a smile since the war started, but today his face is grim as death.
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“You must have set it wrong.”
Vinny’s voice boomed, making my ears ring. Who had set what wrong? Where was I? More importantly, did they know I’d been informing on them for the last six months?
“There’s nothing to set!” Sal said. A thunderous thud of footfalls passed me. “See? Just a big red start button to turn it on.”
Aram sipped black coffee in a café on a street corner, quaint for a metropolitan area. He scanned his mark from a rough wooden chair on a little porch outside. An insurgent patrol, one of a few hundred targets to be obliterated in the same second, drove by.
The missiles were already launched.
“Judith Wong?” Burke slumped. “You think Judith Wong is a Hungarian spy?”
“It makes perfect sense. Think about it!”
“Ok.” Burke made a show of thinking, then went back to looking weary. “There. Thought about it. It’s still crazy. Judith Wong is the most popular actress in the country, everyone’s favorite starlet.
This close to a master bloodfencer, the crude piece of metal in my earlobe burned like hell. I itched to take it out, but it was all that guaranteed my sanity.
Sweat slicked the grip of my hydropistol as I watched Lord Dreadsower, the bloodsucking, self-proclaimed deity of this town, swoop into the alleyway to meet my partner.
My throat is so dry. My tongue so swollen. All I can think of is the great thirst within me. The need to find the one thing which will satisfy my soul—or, what was once my soul before it was stolen from me.
Blood. I need blood. And I need it now.
They are coming.
I process the screech of my alarm, my thoughts already running a thousand miles an hour.
My children are coming. The house is a mess. Sister-In-Law Who Can Do No Wrong Ever will be here with Perfect Daughter. If she sees the mess in this house, our next holiday together will be a bloodbath.
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