Storm Surge

by R. J. Blain

  I support literacy, and I have no problems with libraries. If you did acquire a copy of this book (or one of my other titles) through a torrent site, I really hope you enjoyed the novel. Please consider buying a copy for yourself or a friend. Your financial support helps ensure I am able to keep writing.

  Thank you.

  ~RJ Blain

  Inquisitor (Witch & Wolf, Book 1)

  When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fianceé at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder on the same night. She has to find the killer or she'll be put to death for the crimes she didn't commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.

  On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.

  There's only one problem: One of the deaths has struck too close to home, and Allison's desire for self-preservation may transform into a quest for vengeance...

  Chapter One

  Autumn had come, and I was powerless to stop it—this time. A yellowed leaf clung to its branch, mocking me with its splash of color. The rest of Central Park clung to the hope of summer. I stood on my toes and snatched at it, but a chilly wind ripped it from my reach.

  The leaf landed on the path several steps away. When I reached it, I crushed it beneath my boot.

  “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Allison?”

  I twisted my heel while wrinkling my nose. With light brown hair and creamy skin prone to burning rather than tanning, Mark would never be my tall, dark, and handsome, though he was good looking and aggressive with his money. With my sort of luck, he’d never account for anything more than an occasional lunch buddy who needed my help with his finances. Then again, maybe it was better for both of us that way.

  Some girls had all the luck. Me? I had more money than I knew what to do with, most of it acquired from Mark in management fees like I was some sort of modern-day vampire. Too bad money couldn’t buy me a life.

  “Who said I went to bed last night?” Hopefully, he wouldn’t think too long or hard on my delayed quip.

  “What’s got your tail in a bunch?”

  I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my jeans and swallowed my relieved sigh. No tail. Good. Last thing I needed was to sprout a tail on Halloween at noon. “N-nothing. You’re always ‘blah, blah, blah, something’s wrong.’ Nothing’s going on.”

  Mark arched his brow at me. “So what did that poor little leaf do to you?”

  “It failed its calculus test twice.”

  “Ouch.” Mark’s laugh rumbled. “I failed it four times, thank you very much. You haven’t killed me over it, not yet at least.”

  “You pay me too well for me to kill you. Did you really ask me to come to New York City just to take me to the park? Normally, you’d have me tucked in your office sorting through the stack of papers breeding on your desk, cracking your whip like the evil overlord you like to think you are.”

  “But you like parks. Would an evil overlord take his minions to the park?”

  “It’s cold.” I sniffled, taking my hands out of my jeans to stuff them into my coat. My keys, cell phone, and wallet were still in the left pocket. I was with someone, and muggers didn’t tend to attack couples in the park during broad daylight.

  I hoped.

  “I can’t believe you brought me to New York on today of all days.” I nodded my head at the park, taking in the entirety of the city in a single gesture. Even in the relative peace of Grand Central, I could hear the bustle, the honk of horns, and the noise of the restless cityscape. Atlanta wasn’t much different downtown, but at least it was home.

  “Oh, come off it, Allison. You like Halloween.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe a little. I still can’t believe you brought me here, though.”

  “Anyway, you owe me,” he said before clucking his tongue.

  I winced. He had me dead to rights, and I knew it. Mark gathered favors and cashed them in like currency. Resisting was futile. “Rub it in my face, why don’t you?”

  “Of course I will, but another time. I’m enjoying myself way too much right now. You’re mine for three whole days, like it or not.”

  “I’m doomed,” I groaned.

  He laughed.

  I didn’t have the courage to tell him I meant it. It was bad enough it was Halloween. The full moon would reach its zenith after nightfall.

  If I wasn’t careful, I was going to pop a tail for real. That would surprise him. It would also get me killed. I doubted the NYPD would appreciate a wolf running loose in the center of their city. “Seriously, Mark. What’s so important that you had to fly me in from Atlanta? I do have a job, you know. I’d even like to keep it.”

  “You’re owed three weeks, and at the rate you’re going, they’re probably getting ready to force you to take the time off. The way I see it, I’ve done you a favor.”

  “Mark,” I growled.

  “Okay, fine. It’s Ma. I told her I had a girlfriend so she’d shut up about me getting married for a while. She wants to meet her. To meet you.”

  I broke into a brisk walk, cutting across the grass towards one of the other paths through the park. With luck, he’d get grass stains on his pretty blue business suit. “You brought me to New York to dress up as your girlfriend for Halloween?”

  I guess it really was going to be a night for wearing masks and pretending to be the impossible. It was bad enough I would have to live the dream of having a boyfriend worth keeping, knowing I could never pursue a real relationship with him.

  If I had a mother, I’m sure she would’ve been proud. I didn’t cuss, scream, or pitch a fit. I did keep walking without checking if Mark kept pace with me though.

  He did. “Come on, Allison. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  “A Halloween party with your mother, Mark? Have you lost your mind? She’s never going to believe we’re a couple, for one. Two, you live in New York City. I live in Atlanta. You know, that place you flew me in from? She’s got no reason to believe us.”

  “I might have told her that you are an old college friend, and we’d been seeing each other on and off since we got our degrees. It’s even true, just not for the reasons she thinks. Come on, Allison. It’s only for one night. You’ll save me from marrying a woman I’ve never met.”

  I sighed. “Seriously? Did your mother have you betrothed or something? That’s so two hundred years ago. At least you had the decency to book me into a good hotel. How did you manage a room at the Plaza on such short notice?” Using my brown bangs as a shield, I stared at my friend. He grinned wolfishly.

  “Who said it was on short notice? I had our room booked six months ago.”

  I tripped over my own feet. A startled cry worked its way out of my throat. Mark’s arm slapped against my chest as he caught me. With a low grunt, he hauled me upright. “Careful.”

  My face burned. “Sorry.” I drew a deep breath. Killing Mark in Central Park wouldn’t work—not during the daytime. There’d be too many witnesses. “Our room?”

  “We’re twenty five. We’re young, healthy adults. There’s no way my ma will believe we’re a couple if we don’t share a room,” he replied. He leveled a scandalous leer in my direction, his gaze taking all of me in.

  I flushed. “You have a perfectly nice condo, Mark. I’ve seen it. Why not invite me there instead of booking us a room in one of New York’s more expensive hotels?”

  “Wait until you see the room,” Mark said. Then he waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.

  I closed my eyes, stood straight, and once again shoved my hands into my back pockets. No tail. That was a start. I counted to ten. Then I counted to ten again.

  When that didn’t calm me down enough, I systematically considered all of Mark’s banking accounts I could probably hack my way into, calculating how much I could siphon off without him noticing. I wouldn’t do it, but the figure made me feel warm and fuzzy
inside.

  When I managed to quell my urge to throttle my friend, I opened my eyes and glared at him. “You reserved the honeymoon suite, didn’t you?”

  “Do try to act surprised when I propose. At least you have an easy line. Don’t worry. We’ll call off the engagement in a month or two.”

  “Mark.”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you in your sleep tonight.”

  “I’m too good-looking to kill.”

  “No.” It was a lie, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. I couldn’t fault his logic. We were friends, but we were professionals as well. It was just another business arrangement between us, and nothing more.

  Mark couldn’t possibly be interested in me.

  “I pay you exceptionally well for your accounting skills.”

  “True, but no.”

  “You like me?” His voice wavered, and I had to work to smother my grin.

  “You sound so confident,” I murmured. “Fine. I like you. A little. I’ll do it, but you, dear Mark, will owe me.”

  Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You wouldn’t really try to kill me, would you?”

  I grabbed hold of his tie and yanked down so I could look him in the eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “I wouldn’t bet your life on it, if I were you.”

  The little color he did have fled from his face. I let him go and resumed walking across the park, whistling a merry tune.

  Available now at Amazon

  Winter Wolf (Witch & Wolf, Book 2)

  When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice, her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.

  The savage murder of a bookstore employee throws Nicole into the middle of Inquisition business, like it or not. Driven by her inability to save the young man’s life, she decides to hunt the killer on her own. Using forbidden magic to investigate the past, she learns that the murderer is in fact a disease that could kill the entire werewolf race.

  Forced to choose between saving lives and preserving her own, Nicole embraces the magic that sent her into exile. Without werewolves, the power of the Inquisition would dwindle, and she could live without being hunted.

  Nicole’s only hope for success lies in the hands of the werewolves she hates and the Inquisition she fears, but finding someone to trust is only the beginning of her problems. There are those who want to ensure that the werewolves go extinct and that the Inquisition falls.

  But, if she fails to find a cure, her family—including her twin sister—will perish…

  Chapter One

  I slammed my car’s door, spun on a heel, and swore I would have a perfectly normal visit to the mall. All I needed was one little book. Even I could walk into a bookstore, pick up a novel, and leave without causing any trouble.

  This time I wouldn’t blow out the lights. There wouldn’t be a single power surge. I wouldn’t turn on every unplugged device in the electronics store on my way across the mall. In the ten minutes it would take me to get in and out, the only thing anyone would notice about me was the fact that I wore a high-collared sweater in late summer. I had a mission, and I would complete it without fail. The novel my agent insisted I read would be mine.

  For a long moment, I considered turning around and getting back into my car. Dominic would forgive me if I didn’t start reading the book until tomorrow. I could call in a favor and ask someone to pick up a copy for me. Then I definitely wouldn’t run any risk of blowing anything up. If I had been smart, I would’ve just ordered the damned thing on the internet, but I had waited too long.

  Fishing my cell out of my pocket, I unlocked the screen with a swipe of my finger. The charging icon mocked me. Despite running every battery-draining app I could find, the battery held a full charge. I opened another app, a devilish program capable of killing the battery in ten minutes. It wouldn’t, not with me around, but if I was too busy keeping my phone topped up, maybe my mall shopping trip would prove to be mundane.

  I shook my head, laughing at my foolishness.

  No one would notice my phone. No one would notice me for more than a second. They’d notice my clothes, and then they’d file me away as yet another weirdo wearing something strange to catch attention. L.A. was full of people like that.

  I had no reason to worry. Even if I managed to embarrass myself yet again by losing control of my powers, no one would know I was the cause of unplugged electronics turning on or unusual power surges.

  Straightening my shoulders, I fixed my eyes on the line of glass doors and marched my way across the parking lot.

  In and out. No blown lights. No power surges. No feeding power to unplugged electrical devices. No charging batteries for strangers. I was in control, and I would charge only my phone.

  Making my way to the entry, I paused long enough to hold the door for a little old lady who insisted on making her way through the regular doors despite her walker. I couldn’t blame her. If I lived to be her age, I wouldn’t want to rely on automatic doors either.

  She thanked me with a pat on the arm. Flashing her my best smile, I slipped inside.

  Nothing happened.

  Perfect.

  I could handle ten minutes in the crowded corridors. Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I’d believe it.

  I stuck to the center of the hallway, dodging kiosks as I worked my way to the bookstore. Despite being so near to closing time, the place was busy, leaving me to navigate a sea of bodies. I considered stopping at one of the jewelry kiosks. There was something appealing about the humble, cheaper baubles, but I didn’t quite dare.

  In and out. No stops, not even to admire the gemstones twinkling under the display lamps. This time, I wasn’t going to break anything, not even a single light.

  When I reached the bookstore, I paused at one of the display tables, staring down at the cover of some thriller novel. Picking it up, I pretended to read the back. I focused my attention on the hum of electricity around me. First, I heard—and felt—the lights overhead. Power radiated from them, their glow bleeding energy and heat. Then I felt my cell phone, siphoning energy from me like some inanimate, modern-day vampire. Its little battery hungered, desiring everything I could give it and more. It wanted to be charged.

  One by one, I became aware of all of the little devices around me. Almost everyone in the store had a phone. Dormant devices, from reading lights to mobile chargers, littered the tables. One woman browsing books nearby had four battery-powered devices in her purse. One was a phone, and like mine, it hungered. Its need was strong; its battery waned to the point of failure.

  If I wanted, I could charge it for her.

  No one would notice if I did. Maybe the woman would wonder how her phone hadn’t died before she got home. It only had a few minutes left. It’d take me all of ten seconds to fix it for her. If I did, I wouldn’t be so aware of it. But to do so, I’d have to touch her—or her phone. Some things I could manipulate without having a direct conduit, but cell phone batteries were tricky, greedy things.

  I cringed a little, setting the thriller book down. I picked up the next nearest title. I flipped it over, not reading the text on the back. Did I dare? Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the woman browsing through the books. All it would take was a few seconds. I could charge it without her noticing.

  That was one thing I was actually good at.

  I put the novel I held down and wandered to the same table, careful not to look at her. Book by book, I investigated the titles, circling to where she stood. With luck, she wouldn’t even notice me; if she did, I’d just have to pretend I was a people-person, acting the role and hiding the real me beneath the thin veneer of a lie.

  “You’re Nicole Thomas, aren’t you? The actress. You’re her.” My quarry appraised me with a pleased expression.

  People normally recognized the mainliners, peo
ple with beautiful faces and voices to match, people who didn’t avoid crowds.

  In short, people other than me.

  I met her gaze, abandoning my perusal of novels, reminding myself that people expected actresses to be confident, self-assured, and outgoing. It was a role like any other, and I would play it—even if I hated myself for hiding behind a different personality in public. “I am,” I replied, wincing a little at the sandpaper-rough quality of my voice. At least I hadn’t been reduced to a whisper—yet. My fatal flaw as an actress was my rough, grating voice. Chronic laryngitis did that to a person. It ruined careers, as it had mine, though I hadn’t quite given up on being an actress. I’d already lost the ability to sing.

  I wasn’t going to let a stupid disease take everything away from me.

  The woman smiled, not seeming to mind talking to someone who sounded more like a zombie than a human. “You’re taller than I expected. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She thrust out her hand.

  We shook.

  I left her phone alone.

  “They keep putting me next to giants,” I quipped. It was true. When I did manage to get on the silver screen, I worked alongside actors easily a foot-and-a-half taller than me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” I matched her smile. She didn’t tell me her name, and I didn’t ask for it.

  It took all of my will not to fiddle with her phone. All it would take was a murmured word and a thought, and it’d be done. It would have been easy to charge the battery when our hands had been clasped together, but I hadn’t dared.

  If, sometime later, she noticed her phone had magically been charged—literally—she might remember me. She knew my name.

  And in true cowardice, I couldn’t bring myself to help her. If she connected the strange behavior of her phone with me, she might tell someone. If she did, I’d be as good as dead—or worse. I had dabbled in the occult, and the occult had dabbled back, and there were those who didn’t like when that happened.