Copyright © 2020 by Kari Holloway under the pen name Lilith Sinclair.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To my brother Josh.
Contents
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
Also by Lilith Sinclair
1
The city awoke like a switch being flicked as the sun set. Despite being the slow season, the entire town illuminated like the Vegas strip. Store signs flickered to life, and the lights strung above the streets looked like curtains. The city held an ethereal beauty, and it wasn’t because of the vast numbers of supernaturals who traversed the city throughout the year but the giant crystal the town radiated out from.
Alex stared out the window and squeezed the blue racquetball before sending it against the wall and catching it with the same hand. Over and over, the ball bounced against the floor, the wall, and back to her hand. With one hand busy, she absentmindedly picked at her recliner’s frayed armrest with her other hand while waiting on Mira to finish getting ready for their first weekend off together since their last guardian assignment six months back. Since then, both bounced between tier-one operator gigs and academy work.
“Just a few more minutes, I promise.” Mira’s voice rang over the whine of the hairdryer.
So far, a few minutes had equaled a half an hour and then some, but that didn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips, bringing dimples to her cheeks. She rolled her eyes and paced in their tiny apartment.
Small. Cramped. The apartment wasn’t much, and they weren’t designed as permanent housing. But they did have a few perks—close to work and free.
She’d walked the apartment so many times in the last few years she could navigate it senseless if Mira wasn’t a pack rat and careless with her belongings.
She leaned against the kitchen counter and twirled a strand of hair, watching the mahogany locks unwind to pass the time. “No rush, seriously.” Her nose scrunched moments before her eyes watered. A series of sneezes bowed her over. Did she bathe in it again? “Mira, what in the hell did you just spray?”
The smell was cloying, overpowering every odor and invading every ounce of space.
She threw open the windows and stuck out her head into the cool autumn air. She lapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to alleviate the stench that clung and assaulted her nose, leaving no reprieve.
Mira bounced from the bathroom sporting a new outfit. At five-foot-even and built like a pixie, she could pull off the harmless-girl routine with ease, but that was where harmless ended. As an ocelot shifter, she was lean, muscle hidden behind delicate features insinuated by long lashes and artistically applied makeup.
Her recently dyed-green hair was piled on top of her head while curls trailed across her shoulders. Her dress’s orange fabric flared as she twirled. “Do you like it?” Mira chirped.
Alex licked her lips, giving herself a moment to respond with something tactful. She wasn’t sure if Mira meant the clothes, the perfume, or the entire ensemble. Her resolve for tasteful collapsed as laughter bubbled up. “Please tell me, did I miss the pumpkin contest?”
Mira giggled as she clasped her hands. “Isn’t it perfect? I saw it in the earth deities shop near Orchard Café. I thought it was divine.”
That explained everything. The Twisted Sisters Boutique specialized in outfits like the one Mira currently wore and a jillion other organic mimicry outfits. The set Mira wore was not one of the more tasteful versions, but it was better than others.
“Is that why you dyed your hair a few days ago?” Alex stood and stretched, the tops of her fingers brushed the low ceiling.
“No. I found the outfit last night while you were finishing that escort detail. I couldn’t resist.” Mira browsed the coats hanging on the coat rack by the door, looking for the perfect jacket that complimented her outfit.
Please let the one she wants be there. Alex thought Mira’s fashionista tendencies were cute at times, but that didn’t mean she understood Mira’s fashion obsession.
The last time Mira couldn’t find something she wanted, she had emptied the apartment into the complex’s tiny shared courtyard. Their apartment had been unlivable for nearly a week as the ocelot couldn’t decide how to put all the stuff back into the apartment. On the plus side, she painted the walls.
“Let’s go.” Mira’s enthusiasm at the chance to drag anyone along shopping burst from her like candy from a piñata.
Alex reached around Mira, snatching her all-purpose black jacket off the rack. She double checked the badge on her belt—which didn’t account for much other than her federal agent status—and the silver dagger on her hip and the 9mm tucked in her waist before following Mira out the door.
The moon had risen over the crashing waves and the towering trees of the old forest their apartment butted against.
“Wanna go for a run?” Alex asked, watching the shadows of the trees.
“In there? No.” Mira ardently shook her head before rattling off the places she wanted to shop, who was having sales, and weaving the town gossip seamlessly through it all.
“Suit yourself,” Alex muttered and shrugged, enjoying the cool breeze and the fresh sea air.
It wasn’t the first time she had tried to convince Mira to enter the woods, but the ocelot clung too fiercely to the rumors of towering giants and even more sinister things going bump in there, hidden among the foliage and shadows.
It was hard to ignore the beautiful yet terrifying quartz tower that sprouted in the heart of the city and gave the Citadel its name. In the fiery-red sunset, it looked as if a fire had climbed its way inside, burning bright like a torch against the purplish night with its sliver of a moon hanging just above the horizon.
The tower was more than just a fancy building. It was a living entity created before written word so long ago the living, growing, ever-changing thing had become myth to the long-lived and immortals and was so subtle in its existence very few outside of the gods knew.
Crossing through the heart of the city and into the shopping district, Alex shivered.
The tower’s creepy vibe had been quiet most of the summer, but, as Halloween neared and the nights lengthened, its energy hummed along her meta-shields like a tune of a familiar song but one whose words couldn’t be salvaged.
As the duo moved farther into the marketing district, Alex realized she’d caught only the end of Mira’s prattling about a guy she’d had a blind date with the day before. She nodded, faking her understanding and hoping Mira wouldn’t ask for her opinion.
Despite the early evening, people of every conceivable combination of form walked, floated, or even glided along the cobblestone streets. Some stood alongside their carts or outside their shop doors, hawking their wares, while the enticing aroma of food carried customers to the delicacy-filled shops.
Mira led the way to a jerky stand and picked an appetizer-sized snack. She rooted around in the bag, pulled off a piece and popped it into her mouth. She licked her lips and hummed her approval before offering Alex a piece.
Alex took the piece and tore into it. The flavor was spicy, but the meat was tough, more like shoe leather. She swallowed it, tossed
the rest into Mira’s bag, and followed a familiar scent to her favorite food stall, digging into her coin pouch and removing an iridescent pearl on the way.
“Alex. Good to see you, my child.” To him, everyone was his child. His greeting, nevertheless, brought a smile to Alex’s lips. He welcomed Mira with the same warmth as his wrinkled and speckled-spotted hands moved effortlessly along the cook top, flipping takoyaki balls—wheat-batter-filled with local seafood and red meats and, on a rare occasion, exotic fish from Altaira, his homeland.
It was hard not to radiate the same joy as Mr. Minori, and, in kind, Alex greeted him. “Mr. Minori, a pleasure like always.” She bowed her head, knowing he couldn’t see her. Her mouth watered in anticipation of biting into the golden orbs of takoyaki.
Mr. Minori closed his eyes and placed his finger on the tip of his nose before he rolled up his head and inhaled above the food. A small smile accompanied his nod. He turned an ear toward the makeshift cotton hammock, and, with incredible speed and agility, he used his steel chopsticks to send each ball arching through the air to land in the cloth net. The fabric bounced and stilled as the last one landed.
He rubbed his fingertips along his palm, like a gambler rolling dice. His left hand found the wooden sticks, and he skewered some of the hot balls of bread while leaving others to be smothered by sauces in paper baskets. He drizzled his secret sauce on top and coated it with a sprinkling of chives. “Alex.” Mr. Minori held out the serving for her. Turning toward Mira, he smiled. “Would you like some?”
Mira shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.” She ate another piece of jerky to solidify her stand. Maybe it was the octopus that one time, or perhaps it was because she didn’t know he did other meats, but she’d only tried takoyaki once.
Alex dropped a little pearl into his palm and closed his fingers around the tiny bead.
“Alex. This is more payment than—”
She always paid him a pearl, and he always squawked at the payment for a cheap snack. “Mr. Minori, please accept it.”
To her, it wasn’t just a cheap snack. It was the warmth of memories without the heartache of remembering and one of the few remaining attachments she had to her parents. She turned away to take a bite, and the exceptionally soft and smooth meat combined with hints of sea salt and something dark and wild filled her mouth.
“How … How did you manage to get kraken?” She turned to Mira. “You have got to try this.”
Kraken was extinct earth-side; human zeal had eradicated them centuries ago. In Altaria, the meat was worth a small fortune and damn near impossible to get despite not being a rare specimen.
“My son-in-law was the honored hunter. He honored my family.” Mr. Minori grinned at the esteem and privilege.
Mira passed, and Alex devoured another ball.
Kraken hunts took incredible agility and focus to stay above the thrashing waves and avoid the deadly tentacles. Even mighty oak lumber couldn’t sustain more than a couple hits before the foot-deep boards would crack and splinter.
For his son-in-law to include Mr. Minori in anything outside the birth of a child was out of tradition for the seafaring people of Altaria.
“Honor to your family.” Alex bowed her head out of respect for such an accomplishment. “Why didn’t he keep the kraken for personal use?” Alex stepped aside, finishing her takoyaki, as Mr. Minori attended to a bare-chested selkie whose fur pelt wrapped around his waist like a kilt.
“I’m looking for Alex …?” A skinny boy of ten or so huffed and puffed. He rested his palms on his knees as he leaned over, trying to catch his breath. The bright yellow errand boy shirt clashed with his spiky golden hair.
“I’m Alex.”
The wind shifted as he lifted his sand-colored eyes.
Shifter energy rolled along Alex’s mind tasting of the earth and wind followed by a chaser of intense heat. Cheetah. Theriomorphs all tasted like the earth at first, and those with a discernible palate could tell the four distinct branches apart. From there, each species had little nuances that set them apart.
The boy pulled an envelope from his pocket that couldn’t have been more wrinkled if someone had purposefully balled it up. He tried to smooth it out against his leg before handing the letter to her.
Mira excused herself from the passerby who had been complimenting her on her outfit and took the note as Alex finished it. “Shoo.” She flicked her wrist to send the boy on his way. “Do they have to be told how to do their job?” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Why can’t Fredrick use a phone, if all he’s going to do is send us a piece of paper telling us to report to him?”
Alex chuckled at her rather loud exclamation while people stopped to gawk. “In twenty years, the next batch will ask, ‘Why don’t the old timers use the holographic board?’”—she air quoted—“or whatever the new fad is. He’s set in his ways.” And maybe he just likes giving the academy recruits assigned to his office a hard time.
Fredrick’s office sat among the liaison offices located on the second and third floors, just above the lobby and transport office and well below the council’s floors.
Alex raised a brow at the messy office, messier than she’d ever seen it. Stacks of files perched precariously on the top of the desk. The filing cabinets and the huge storage built into the bookcases were a chaotic mess, and their files were divided into piles across every available space, including the chairs.
Mira was the curious sort, skimming the top files and rummaging through the cabinets and finding more than a dozen thermoses and matching bags of coffee beans amongst the clutter. “How much coffee does he drink a day?”
“Before coffee, he collected bow ties.” Alex stared out the floor-to-ceiling panel of windows, admiring the view that twinkled in various festive colors. In the bay on the far side of the town past where the market lay, the green and red lights on the ferry’s channel glowed.
Fredrick cleared his throat. He was a tall, wispy man with grey hair and a matching goatee. “Good evening, ladies. I hope I didn’t interrupt you.” He set a collection of flat boxes against his desk.
Mira hastily shut the cabinet doors, catching her jacket in one, and turned around, finding Fredrick glaring at her. Her throat bobbed, and her face turned crimson. Her hands fumbled with the cabinet door behind her back as she tried jerking free her jacket, resulting in a resounding thwack of the door against the frame.
With a deliberate slowness, he reached behind her, trapping her against the built-in bookcase and the edge of the desk, as he changed out the pod in his coffee maker and flipped it on. The water gurgled as it heated, and he reached behind her again, snagging a dainty white coffee cup, and placed it on the little stand. He grinned as he stepped away, letting Mira flee, before taking the fresh cup of coffee and enjoying its rich aroma.
Alex settled in to wait, knowing he only did these things to be a dick.
He enjoyed every sip and smiled as he refilled it. With the pace of a snail, he moved files around his desk. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled a manila file from a stack and flipped it open before spinning it toward the duo.
Mira took the folder and thumbed through the pages.
“Over the last year, artifacts at museums across North and Central America have vanished. Security cameras catch a glowing blur, but technology can’t identify the culprit.”
Mira handed Alex a photo of a golden glittery blob streaking across the picture with a broad-to-thin structured object and smaller ones darting around in the background.
“The security guards have, for the most part, not seen anything, but the heists left two guards killed.”
Alex read over Mira’s shoulder and shook her head. Local law enforcement and even the typical FBI didn’t enjoy the Council stepping on their toes, and this entire case smelled of tangled relations and stepping in shit.
“This is classified as a tier-one job, and we’ve not been invited in.” Mira closed the folder and set it in her messenger bag.
“Ignore it like you do most of your orders,” Fredrick scoffed, dismissing them.
2
“You’d think he’d be nicer,” Mira huffed about the apartment, grabbing her nail polish and all that entailed.
Alex didn’t pay her any attention. In the years she’d been working under Fredrick, the only thing that made that man tolerable was … nothing. He was an asshole through and through. His charges usually either begged to transfer or didn’t amount to much. It was why he was an asshole to them. He didn’t think they would amount to anything, so he didn’t see the point in being nice.
She pulled her tablet closer but waited for Mira to finish her tirade before turning it on.
“Seriously, can they not give us a guardian job?”
“Next you’ll say it’s all because we’re women.” Alex knew the tune Mira whined all too well.
The ocelot had done it the last time both had been in Fredrick’s office, and only one of them had walked out with a guardian-grade assignment.
“That’s another valid point,” Mira exclaimed, doing stabbing motions with the wooden stick she’d been using on her finger.
“Could it be because there’s actually not that many guardian jobs we qualify for? We’re one of the newest guardian teams, and most assignments are designed for singles.” Alex tried not to let her irritation show. “Look at it this way, at least we’re on the same assignment this time.”
Alex tried to remember the specifics of their last joint job. The mayor’s ball? She shook her head. She’d been a guardian so long the days rolled along day after day with nothing more remarkable than the shenanigans they got into as a team and all the mundane assignments rolled into one jumbled mess.
Mira admired her freshly painted nails. “One of these days, they’ll need us. And you know what? I’ll tell them to kiss my ass.” So confident in her pledge, she smiled.
Silver and Gold (Sanctuary Book 1) Page 1