Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
PRAISE FOR THE HUNTER KISS NOVELS
BY “RED-HOT LIU”1
A WILD LIGHT
“Written in flowing, at times poetic, prose, A Wild Light reads like a languid, surreal dream, punctuated by fierce, sudden, and often unexpected action . . . a superlative series.”
—The Miami Herald
“Truly one of the most darkly intense and spellbinding series in [urban fantasy] today! Every Liu book should be an autobuy!”
—Romantic Times (4½ stars)
“This pivotal book in the Hunter Kiss series proves Liu’s dark side is a haunting place to be as she pushes Maxine to the brink as a sharp-witted, uncompromising defender, not immune to self-doubt but tempered and made stronger for it.”
—Booklist
“[Liu’s] depth of imagination and her talent for creating unforgettable characters is masterful.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“The third Hunter Kiss urban fantasy is a terrific entry that contains a powerful story line while also moving forward on the overarching theme . . . With a late great twist, fans will enjoy Marjorie M. Liu’s dark A Wild Light.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
DARKNESS CALLS
“Ms. Liu has an eloquent writing style and gives readers a story where the secondary characters are every bit as fascinating as the leads. Darkness Calls is vividly described and full of paranormal action from beginning to end.”
—Darque Reviews
“[Liu’s] ability to deliver kick-butt action and characters whose humanity resonates, even when they’re anything but human, is a testament to her outstanding storytelling skills. Liu’s imagination is an amazing place to visit.”
—Romantic Times (top pick)
“Darkness Calls is one riveting book and Marjorie Liu is one great writer. The desperation Maxine feels as she deals with her past and unknown future is one that will keep you reading and anxious for the next terror Maxine will have to endure.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Liu has done an excellent job of developing and expanding the mythos she created in The Iron Hunt . . . I look forward to reading the further adventures of Maxine Kiss.”
—SFRevu
THE IRON HUNT
“I adore the Hunter Kiss series! Marjorie Liu’s writing is both lyrical and action packed, which is a very rare combination. Heroine Maxine Kiss and her demon friends are wonderful characters who are as likable as they are fierce. You’ll want to read this series over and over.”
—Angela Knight, New York Times bestselling author
“Liu is one of the best new voices in paranormal fiction.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Marjorie M. Liu writes a gripping supernatural thriller.”
—The Best Reviews
“From the imagination of one of today’s most talented authors comes a mesmerizing, darkly disturbing world on the brink of apocalypse. With her new Hunter Kiss series, Liu has created a uniquely tough yet vulnerable heroine in Maxine Kiss . . . Through Maxine’s eyes, readers take a heart-stopping ride where buried secrets could change the fate of the world.”
—Romantic Times
“Readers who love urban fantasies like those of Charlaine Harris or Kim Harrison will relish Marjorie M. Liu’s excellent adventure. This is the superb start of a dynamic-looking saga.”
—Midwest Book Review
“A stunning new series . . . The mythology is fascinating, the characters complicated, the story lines original. I’m a big fan of Liu’s Dirk & Steele series, but this one surpasses even it.”
—Fresh Fiction
“An incredibly complex, engrossing story that will stretch your imagination and broaden your ideas of what is and what could be.”
—Romance Junkies
“Ms. Liu does a lovely job in . . . preparing us for the highspeed action in her demon-filled adventure. A creative and well-written story line provides a strong backbone for this new urban fantasy series, and the unique characters in The Iron Hunt will charm, tempt, and surprise readers into coming back for more.”
—Darque Reviews
“Marjorie Liu seems to have an endless imagination for creating new and interesting characters and stories. I can’t wait to see how this story develops and the world of Maxine Kiss evolves. This is a character and a story that has potential to keep the reader interested for an extensive series of books.”
—Affaire de Coeur
MORE PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF MARJORIE M. LIU
“Raises the bar for all others competing in its league . . . Liu’s screenplay-worthy dialogue, vivid action, and gift for the punchy, unexpected metaphor rockets her tale high above the pack. Readers of early Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, and the best thrillers out there should try Liu now and catch a rising star.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“The boundlessness of Liu’s imagination never ceases to amaze; her ability to translate that imagination into a lyrical work of art never ceases to impress.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Red-hot Liu . . . packs her stories with immensely intriguing characters, making the high-stakes plotlines even more mesmerizing.”
—Romantic Times (top pick, 4½ stars)
“Nonstop adventure . . . a rich world with paranormal elements.”
—SFRevu
“A wonderful voice.”
—Romance at Heart Magazine
“Liu is masterful in merging espionage, romance, and the supernatural into fiction that goes beyond the boundaries of action-adventure romance or romantic suspense.”
—Booklist
“Fabulous romantic suspense fantasy that will hook the audience from the first note to the incredible climatic coda.”
—Midwest Book Review
Ace Books by Marjorie M. Liu
THE IRON HUNT
DARKNESS CALLS
A WILD LIGHT
THE MORTAL BONE
Anthologies
WILD THING
(with Maggie Shayne, Alyssa Day, and Meljean Brook)
NEVER AFTER
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Yasmine Galenorn, and Sharon Shinn)
INKED
(with Karen Chance, Yasmine Galenorn, and Eileen Wilks)
eSpecials
HUNTER KISS
ARMOR OF ROSES AND THE SILVER VOICE
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Gr
oup (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
THE MORTAL BONE
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / January 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Marjorie M. Liu.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN : 978-1-101-55368-8
ACE
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
For J.D.
El futuro está lleno de luz.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank my editor, Kate Seaver, for her constant support and kindness. And to my copy editors, Sara and Bob Schwager, I send you warm wishes and a great deal of appreciation. Lucienne Diver . . . a huge thank-you, as well.
And to my readers . . . oh, you lovely readers . . . what can I say? I love you all.
To learn more about my books, please visit my website at www.marjoriemliu.com—or follow me on Twitter at@marjoriemliu.
The wound is the place where the Light enters you.
—RUMI
CHAPTER 1
WHAT happens in Texas, stays in Texas. Except when demons are involved.
I was sitting on the sagging porch of the old farmhouse, sipping an ice-cold ginger ale, when a red pickup truck appeared around the last bend of the long, curving driveway. I stood, shielding my eyes against the late-afternoon sun—noticing, as had become my habit, the gold glimmer of my wedding ring standing out in stark relief against the obsidian, mercury-streaked tattoos that covered my entire left hand.
Dust kicked up behind the truck, but not much. The driver was taking a slow approach.
I hadn’t lived on this land in years. Maybe it was a nosy neighbor coming to visit. Or a social worker who had heard that a teenage boy was in residence and not attending school. Could be someone lost—but the driveway was almost three miles long and blocked by a heavy gate. A bit out of the way, just to ask directions.
I felt a tug against my tattooed skin. A persistent ripple that traveled like a small shock wave from my toenails to the base of my neck, as though an electrical pulse was moving through Zee and the boys.
I set down my drink. Against my neck, the tip of Dek’s tattooed tail thrummed, like the quiet warning of a rattlesnake. When I flexed my fingers, the organic silver armor covering my right hand tingled. Everything, coming alive as that red truck rolled and rumbled down the driveway.
The driver parked in front of the barn, surrounded in a swirling cloud of pale, hot dust. I couldn’t see much behind the tinted windows, so I listened to the engine pop and groan as I stepped off the porch.
The door opened, and a foot dangled out. Fortunately, it was attached to a leg. I wasn’t always that lucky.
I saw a simple white sneaker with a thick sole, and an equally thick ankle that was so swollen the flesh seemed to sag over the top of the shoe. I walked sideways, peering into the truck to see what else that limb was attached to.
What I found was a demon having a heart attack.
That’s what it seemed like at first. The unfortunate host was a woman well over three hundred pounds, who wore a sleeveless blue sundress that clung to her round stomach and heavy breasts. Her arms were thick and wide, as was her soft neck, which was almost lost in her sagging jaw. She had pale skin—around her hands—but the rest of her was pink and red as a lobster, and dripping with sweat.
Soaked brown hair clung to her face, along with a thunderous aura that marked her as demon-possessed. Somewhere, deep inside, a human soul still resided . . . but it was impossible to tell just how long it had been buried beneath that seat of darkness. Some demons, the young ones, clung with only a light touch, a whisper. Others dug in, latching onto the flesh, sliding into lives, and pulling every string.
Those clinging shadows rose and fell off the woman’s shoulders with each heaving breath, and she sat—half-in, half-out of her truck—with her eyes closed and mouth open, panting and clutching her chest.
It would be easy for me to exorcise the demon. Even a year ago, I would not have hesitated. Those gutter rats who regularly escaped the prison veil had no business possessing humans and feeding off their pain. Nothing had changed my opinion about that.
But I’d learned a thing or two about demons—and myself—that blurred the lines between good and evil. I could no longer cast stones. Not without asking questions first. Any demon looking for me was very desperate—or coerced—and that was bad news, in more ways than one.
So I waited, silent. Wishing I had gum to chew. The aftertaste of that ginger ale had gone sour, right along with my stomach. I hated this so much. All the possibilities of all the bad things this demon might tell me, crowding my head, making my pulse thicken.
The possessed woman finally caught her breath and opened her eyes to look at me.
She didn’t seem to know where to settle her gaze, which flitted above and around, and on me, with such rapidness it made me dizzy. Finally, she settled on my eyes, then danced down to the tattoos covering my arms: an unbroken tangle of obsidian muscle and scales, knotted, curling, shimmering with veins of mercury that caught the light—though not nearly as much as the glinting crimson eyes that always remained open and staring.
I’d found some of my mother’s old white tank tops in the closet and hadn’t seen much point to leaving them there—or hiding the boys. I had few, if any, secrets from the people in my life. Which was another dazzling departure from the way I had been raised.
“Boo,” I said to the possessed woman, and felt sort of bad when she flinched from me, like I’d hit her.
Silent, and with agonizing stiffness, she reached sideways into the passenger seat and dragged a red plastic bowling bag across her stomach. Her breathing roughened again, and sweat dripped off the ends of her thin hair.
“Take it,” she whispered. “Hurry.”
Licking a bad case of herpes sounded more appealing than taking a gift from a demon. Safer, too.
I did not move. “Why are you here?”
“Come on, it’s fragile.” Her demonic aura twitched and fluttered, tendrils of shadow flirting with escape. “Please. I was told to come.”
“Who told you?”
She flashed me a hard, frightened look. “A voice in a dream. I was ordered to give you something that belongs to my host.”
I frowned. A voice in a dream? Really?
Unfortunately, it sounded too strange to be a lie. And that demon was genuinely terrifie
d.
I reached for the bowling bag. I wasn’t worried about its being a bomb. I’d survive a nuclear blast—or bullets, knives, fire. Sending me to the bottom of the ocean wouldn’t kill me, either. Not while the sun shone, somewhere above me.
The possessed woman snatched back her hand before I had a full grip on the oversized handle, and I almost dropped it—partially because it was unexpectedly heavy. The shape as it bumped my leg felt round and hard.
“This better not be a human head,” I muttered.
She shuddered. “Close.”
I flashed her a hard look and unzipped the bowling bag.
No hair or bone inside. No blood. The afternoon light gleamed off a round, smooth surface—clear as glass. I reached inside, bracing myself as the armor encasing much of my right hand and forearm began tingling again, like pins and needles.
Nothing happened, though. The armor quieted. I slid my hand under the cool, hard object—and lifted it from the bowling bag.
The Mortal Bone Page 1