Binding the Shadows

by Jenn Bennett

  Praise for Jenn Bennett and Summoning the Night

  “Bennett quickly establishes that her terrific debut was no fluke, delivering another riveting tale featuring gutsy renegade magician Cady Bell. Bennett does a stellar job blending character development with plenty of supernatural mystery and peril. A series for your keeper shelf!”

  —RT Book Reviews (Top Pick!)

  “Another fantastic novel. . . . I can’t find enough superlatives for the enjoyment each of Bennett’s books has brought. She has won a lifetime fan in me.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Cady, Lon, and Jupe are my new favorite crime-fighting, magic-wielding Earthbound family unit. More, please.”

  —Reading the Paranormal

  “Jenn Bennett has created another amazing novel filled with strong characters, magical surprises, and quirky humor.”

  —Tynga’s Reviews

  “Hands down, Jenn Bennett writes some of the best characters: They’re relatable, approachable, and gosh darn it, near perfection.”

  —Heroes and Heartbreakers

  “The minute I cracked it open and started reading, I was reminded why I loved this world so much the first go around. . . . If you haven’t picked up this series yet, you need to smack yourself and start it right now.”

  —Wicked Little Pixie

  “Tremendous phenomenal fantastic! . . . Jenn Bennett proved that she can write with Kindling the Moon, and with Summoning the Night, she proved that she has staying power.”

  —Yummy Men & Kick Ass Chicks

  “Well written and full of unforgettable characters. While I appreciate the cliffhanger at the end, I have to lament it with equal fervor. I (not-so) patiently await the next installment of this series.”

  —Dark Faerie Tales

  Kindling the Moon

  “The talent pool for the urban fantasy genre just expanded with Bennett’s arrival. This is an impressive debut, which opens the door for a series that promises to be exceedingly entertaining. . . . Plenty of emotional punch, not to mention some kick-butt action. . . . Bennett appears to have a bright future ahead!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Without a doubt the most impressive urban fantasy debut I’ve read this year. . . . The writing is excellent, the characters are charming, and the romance is truly believable. . . . Flawlessly original!”

  —Romancing the Darkside

  “For the love of things that go bump in the night, this book was FABULOUS! It was the perfect blend of action, intrigue, tension, and the supernatural.”

  —Reading the Paranormal

  “I was hooked from the first page. . . . The story was fun and original. . . . The twists and turns came at every intersection. . . . I can’t think of one thing I didn’t like about the book. I didn’t want to put it down.”

  —Urban Fantasy Investigations

  “I was smitten with this book right from the beginning. . . . A fantastic debut to a new series I am very excited over, and a must-read for all lovers of urban fantasy.”

  —Wicked Little Pixie

  “Jenn Bennett has written a great off-beat debut novel with a likeable heroine and a fun, original storyline. . . . I thoroughly enjoyed it!”

  —Karen Chance, New York Times bestselling author of Hunt the Moon

  “Kindling the Moon rocks like AC/DC on Saturday night. This book has it all: great writing, action, romance, a strong heroine, a unique hero, and the best teenager ever. I can’t wait for the next one.”

  —Ann Aguirre, USA Today bestselling author of Devil’s Punch

  “Kindling the Moon engaged me from page one. I loved it! I immediately adored the heroine, Arcadia Bell. This book is packed from cover to cover with unpredictable twists, heart-pounding action, and heated sexual tension. . . . Jenn Bennett has definitely made my ‘To Buy’ list.”

  —Anya Bast, New York Times bestselling author of Midnight Enchantment

  “Jenn Bennett takes the familiar ideas of magic, demons, and mythology, and she gives us something sexy, fun, and genuinely unique. Arcadia Bell is a sassy, whip-smart addition to the growing pantheon of urban fantasy heroines, and Bennett an author to watch!”

  —Kelly Meding, author of Changeling

  “Fantastic magic, non-stop action, and hot romance make Kindling the Moon a not-to-be-missed debut. Arcadia Bell is a tenacious and savvy heroine who had me hooked from the start.”

  —Linda Robertson, author of Wicked Circle

  “Delicious characters, fun twists, and fiendish risks. . . . This smart, stylish debut really delivers. Loved, loved, loved it!”

  —Carolyn Crane, author of Head Rush

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  To the real-life Kar Yee in Hong Kong, the epitome of kindness and grace. I miss you.

  I scrambled through the second-story window and balanced on a square section of slanted roofing above a portico on the first floor. Lon followed, biting out obscenities. I’d never seen him move so fast. Fire is a good motivator.

  We hugged the outer wall of the house, flanking both sides of the open window. A sharp night wind whipped my hair around my face and shoulders as I butted my shoulder against the siding.

  Where is Merrimoth now? I thought.

  “Left the room to search for the gun,” Lon said in a low voice.

  I quickly surveyed our surroundings. A small balcony lay to our left, a couple of rooms away. I risked a glance below and got queasy watching the tide crash and foam around an outcropping of jagged rocks.

  Merrimoth’s contemporary house was built on stilts over a lonely expanse of Pacific coast. The shoreline that stretched in front of us was studded with crags and driftwood and sea otters, and maybe the occasional wet-suited surfer seeking a thrill. I was neither sea otter nor surfer, and I figured I had a one percent chance of surviving a dive into the threatening waters below.

  Long strands of golden brown hair fluttered around the back of Lon’s neck as he leaned against the house and listened. Light from the still-burning fire radiated from the open window, creating dancing shadows that deepened the long hollows of his cheeks.

  Like Merrimoth, Lon Butler is an Earthbound: demons on the inside, humans on the outside—with the small exception of a wispy halo of light that floats around their heads, marking them as “other.” When Lon was transmutated, his demonic halo morphed from the usual nebulous gold-speckled green cloud to an eruption of flames that licked around his head and shoulders. He also sprouted a pair of spiraling ram-like horns, which were currently making a disconcerting knocking sound when he leaned his head against the house.

  “He thinks he’s spotted where the gun landed,” he whispered.

  Lon’s damned Lupara. He’d only managed one shot before Merrimoth took possession of the gun a couple of minutes ago. I’d shocked Merrimoth with charged Heka—natural magical energy kindled with electricity—causing the gun to fly out of his hand, and he retaliated by inexplicably creating a wall of fire across the room. Which is why we were now standing outside the window above a rocky shoreline when we should be sitting down to dinner.

  Ambrose Dare, the very rich and very powerful head of the Hellfire Club, sent me here to put a metaphysical leash around Merrimoth’s neck after hearing reports that his Number Two Earthbound had gone mad. Not usually my business or concern, but Dare was busy at some holiday fundraiser, and I was getting paid to care.

  “We can’t stand here forever,”
Lon said in a low voice.

  No, we damn well couldn’t. I longingly glanced at the nearby balcony. It was several feet away and connected to our roof by a slim ledge of cedar.

  “Would it hold us?” Lon asked.

  I tested it, easing the toe of my shoe on the ledge. Seemed strong enough, though it was awfully narrow. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Try to bind him again.”

  “You think I’m not?” I whispered hotly.

  My inherited moon power was stronger than it’d ever been, now that I was using it regularly, but that didn’t mean I understood the mechanics behind it. All I knew was that it damn sure didn’t work in the daytime and—like the cable in Lon’s house up on the cliffs—went on the fritz during storms.

  Lon exhaled in frustration. Clever eyes studied mine as his index finger and thumb moved in unison to smooth the thin pirate mustache that trailed around his mouth and matching triangle in the center of his chin.

  “Bind Merrimoth,” he finally said, “and I’ll do that thing you like later.”

  “It’s not like my power reacts to the reward system,” I said, then added, “What thing?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “On the chair.”

  “You mean that thing you like?”

  “We both like,” he corrected. “Win-win.”

  I snorted a soft laugh. “I don’t think you understand the concept of bargaining.”

  He held up a hand to quiet me, then whispered after a few moments. “The gun fell behind his piano. He can see it from the landing.”

  “Perfect. When he heads back downstairs—”

  “Cady—”

  “—we’ll just go back inside and—”

  “Ahhh!”

  Lon lurched away from the side of the house and nearly toppled off the narrow roof. I felt it a second later: fire on my back, spreading across the wood siding. I yelped in pain, then ducked into a crouch as a sudden boom! rattled the house. Flames burst from the open window, a column of orange fire like dragon’s breath. It spewed over our heads, just missing one of Lon’s horns, then retreated. Mostly. Flames continued to cavort around the window and surrounding wall.

  The scent of burning hair wafted. I furiously patted my bleached white Bride of Frankenstein streak, which hung over my shoulders and stood out against my otherwise dark hair. “How is he doing that?” I hissed.

  “Hell if I know. Even transmutated, there’s no way he should be able to do this.”

  But Merrimoth wasn’t transmutated, which made even less sense. Many Earthbounds have a demonic ability, what they call a knack. Lon’s an empath. He can read your emotions. Transmuted, like he was at that moment, he can also read your thoughts. Merrimoth possessed a knack I once would’ve classified as harmless: temperature control. Last time I saw him, he could warm my hand with a touch. But creating giant blasts of fire? This was new.

  “Ha!” Merrimoth’s joyful voice called out from inside the house. “I am God—no, the Devil himself. I’ve never felt so alive!”

  And I’d never felt so angry. Come to think of it, I’d felt nothing but hate for David Merrimoth since I met him at the Hellfire caves several months back. Not only because the elderly Earthbound tried to feed Lon to a caged Æthyric demon in a fighting ring, but also because he wanted to herd me into an Incubus orgy.

  “Stay right there, won’t you?” Merrimoth hollered from inside the house. His batshit-crazy laugh was lost in the crackle of flames that licked around the window frame.

  Lon pulled me to my feet and craned to see inside the window. “He’s going downstairs.”

  Heat from Merrimoth’s fire caused sweat to trickle down my back. We weren’t circus lions. No way was I jumping through the ring of a window on fire, but I wasn’t going to stand there and wait for Merrimoth to come back and shoot us. I gazed at the balcony and resigned myself to a tightrope act. “I’ll go first. Wait until I’ve crossed.”

  “Like hell. I’m not going to stand here and watch you fall. We both go.”

  Fine. If our combined weight destroyed the ledge, maybe I’d get to give him an I-told-you-so on the other side. I flattened my back against the house and gingerly sidled onto the cedar ledge. My heart drummed inside my chest as salty ocean air filled my lungs. I stretched out an arm and guided myself forward with an open palm on the siding for balance. One step . . . two steps. . . . The ledge creaked.

  “Slow, Cady,” Lon’s voice said somewhere behind me.

  I was inching forward one foot at a time—how much slower could I go?

  Something fell on my face. A sharp pinpoint of cold. Then another. Plop.

  “Shit.” So much for clear skies. A handful of plops, then the heavens just opened up without warning and dumped a torrent of winter rain.

  “Keep going,” Lon said.

  Christmas was next week, for the love of Pete. I should be wrapping presents right now and preparing myself to meet Lon’s extended family—not running from fire and tightroping across the side of some nut-job’s house in a storm.

  At least the anger was motivating. Three more steps and we were halfway there. Or were we? It was hard to tell—I couldn’t turn my neck to look back or I’d lose my balance. Blustering wind thrashed my hair and fanned a hard sheet of rain across my face. Vertigo turned my knees to jelly.

  “Ignore it!” Lon barked at my side.

  He was right. Too late to turn back now. I had to press forward. Had to make it. All I needed to do was slide one foot, fingers reaching, slide second foot, and repeat. But during the next step, I felt the house rumble against my back.

  “What was that?” I whispered.

  Something behind us, on the safe little island of roofing we’d left. I’d fall if I glanced back. Lon must’ve detected something with his knack because his hand suddenly gripped my shoulder. All my muscles went rigid as a breath stuck in my throat.

  A gun’s report cracked the night air.

  My back stiffened. Fingernails gouged the rain-slick siding, scrabbling for purchase. Lon swore indecipherably.

  “You couldn’t hit a buffalo with this old thing,” Merrimoth’s voice shouted into the storm.

  “Keep going,” Lon said to me. “The Lupara’s out of shells now.”

  I drew harsh breaths through my nostrils and took an indecisive step. Then another. Lon was saying something behind me again, but I blocked him out. Three steps to the balcony. I extended my arm. I could do this. Two steps. Almost there. My fingertips reached for the wooden railing—

  Glass doors swung open.

  A green halo swam in front of my eyes as Merrimoth burst onto the balcony. The gray-haired Earthbound was in his early seventies. He wore perfectly ironed gray slacks and a white shirt that gaped open three too many buttons to expose a plush thicket of curly gray chest hair.

  “How stupid do you think I am?” he said breathlessly as rain soaked through his shirt. No horns, no fiery halo. He definitely wasn’t transmutated, so how could his knack be potent enough to create fire?

  “Merrimoth!” Lon shouted. “Let us inside. We’ll discuss this like adults.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss, m’boy. Dare wants to sic his hounds on me? And not even worthy hounds—Jonathan Butler’s privileged ragamuffin son and his witchy Sheba, barely old enough to tie her own shoes, much less bind me properly. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that little stunt you pulled in the Hellfire caves. Dare blamed me for the vermillion binding circle you broke. He flayed me for it.”

  The crazy Earthbound held out an upturned palm. My rain-bleary vision took several seconds to register that his hand was striped with pink scars.

  “Dare said I couldn’t touch you or I was out of the Hellfire Club. But I don’t need them anymore, not with power like this!” The beginning of a laugh was choked in his throat as his gaze narrowed and landed on Lon. “Get out of my brain, Butler. I feel you poking around. You want to know how I started those fires? I’m not telling. But remember that my knack always went both ways�
�hot and cold. Would you like a demonstration?”

  “Merrimoth—”

  “Look at you, little birds perched on my house. The footing on that ledge looks awfully dicey. Would be even more precarious if the temperature dropped a few degrees . . .”

  The rain surged and swirled as the Earthbound flicked his wrist. A volley of cold, sharp raindrops flew against my body and pinged off the house, sounding like a thousand marbles had been scattered into the wind. Hail. He’d frozen the rain around us.

  Ice quickly formed on both the ledge below and the wooden siding at our backs. My fingers slipped. Merrimoth swooped his arm in a downward arc and a long strip of ice solidified at our feet. It shot out into the night air like the enormous, curling tongue of a mythological Nordic Frost Giant.

  Lon’s leg banged against mine, then his foot gave way. I turned just in time to see him careen down the icy slide. He launched into the air, rocketing into the night sky as if he’d been released from a slingshot. I watched in horror as his body hung for a split second, then dropped, heading straight for the rocky coastline below.

  I didn’t have time to make a plan. No option existed but stopping Lon’s fall. And after all the trouble I’d been having summoning up my moon power to bind Merrimoth, in that single moment—the second Lon dropped—the erratic magick immediately submitted to my will and lashed out like lightning. I had no particular spell in mind, not even a sigil. Only one thought ballooned inside my head and crackled through my synapses: No.

  Magick whooshed out of me with my breath. I blinked, drowsy and momentarily disoriented. I knew I’d done something big, but it took me a moment to realize exactly what.

  Time had slowed.

  I glanced around in shock. A peculiar silver light swathed my vision. Raindrops hung suspended in the air—illuminated by light from the house’s windows, they looked like clusters of misshapen glass beads. And on the balcony, Merrimoth’s body stood stock-still, his mouth open, hand poised in the middle of some unrealized gesture like a wax figure. As if I’d pushed a pause button. I peered over the arch of ice at my feet, dreading what I might find.