“I think that means something’s happened to Marcy,” I said. “I’m starting to get a very bad feeling. We need to get in there.” I started to pull open the door.
Three fierce growls rent the air.
“I’m going first,” Tyler said, grabbing the door and edging in front of me. “If this is a trap or we get cut off, head to the Safe House. We rendezvous there. Clear?”
“Clear,” I said. I wasn’t going to argue. “I’m right behind you.”
In a line, with Rourke so close he was like a second skin, we all crept quietly into the building hallway and to our front door. Hannon & Michaels was painted on the front in block letters. The firm had been started under my alias, Molly Hannon, and had run successfully for the last five years.
“This is a bit ridiculous,” Danny stage-whispered from the end of the line. “If there’s a powerful witch inside, she’s spelled everything and knows we’re here, likely from the moment we drove up. We’re acting like criminals in a bad police drama.”
He was right. “That’s true,” I said. “But we don’t want to go balls out and piss off whoever’s in there either. Nick is with them. We have to act like we respect the power.”
Tyler reached for the door handle, but the door sprang open on its own.
So much for respecting the power.
“Where is my niece?” A commanding voice rang out.
Standing with her hands on her hips in front of Marcy’s desk was the tiniest woman I’d ever seen. She appeared to be in direct odds with everything Marcy was—where Marcy was tall, curvy, with gorgeous long red hair, this woman was short, had the body of a twelve-year-old boy, and the hair spilling out of her black knit cap, complete with an embroidered skull and crossbones, was white as snow.
Aunt Tally.
Tallulah Talbot, the undisputed supernatural heavy in this city, possibly in the country, stood with her hands on her hips, looking very put out. Her power was legendary and she was likely the only reason we’d slowed Selene down for those few brief moments.
I’d never come face-to-face with her until now.
I stepped forward cautiously. This woman was clearly pissed, and if something had happened to Marcy, I was going to hurt someone. “Hello. I’m Jessica McClain. This is my office and Marcy is my secretary.”
“I know who you are.” She gave me a dismissive look. “Do you honestly think I’d allow my niece to work here if I weren’t well aware of the situation?”
“Um, I guess not.” Had I ever been under the radar? “Why are you here?”
“My niece is missing; that’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean missing?” I asked as I took a step farther into the room. On inspection, Tally’s face was surprisingly young. If it weren’t for the white hair and her small, frail stature, she would’ve look somewhere in her late thirties. But with all the other accompaniments she looked late forties, early fifties.
Her eyes were a striking hazel, just like Marcy’s, but it was truly all they had in common.
“Jess,” Nick yelled as he came around the corner. “I thought I was hearing things.”
“Nick!” I ran over and gave him a big hug. He picked me up and squeezed me back. “Why didn’t you call me?” I asked as he put him at arm’s length.
“Well, first, I didn’t think you’d be back. But honestly, I would’ve called once I had more information.” He smiled. “I just got the news that Marcy was gone an hour ago. I came to meet Tally here, at her request, but she was… er… already inside.”
“My niece was taken from here this evening, against her will,” Tally said. “At approximately seven p.m.”
“How do you know for sure?” I looked around, but there was no sign of a struggle. I took a breath in, but didn’t scent anything in the air, except for Tally. Massive amounts of powerful witch filled my senses. I turned to Nick. “Do you know what happened?”
He shook his head. “I’m just as confused as you. I got a call from”—he gestured to the small but commanding woman with her hands on her hips, not knowing how to address her—“about an hour ago. The last time I talked to Marcy, everything was fine. She was packing up to leave for the day.”
“She was not fine,” Tally said with authority. “She was worried. She called me from here. That’s the last time I heard from her. She had laced the perimeter of this building with a detection spell and it was going off. She thought it was something big, but she didn’t know what it was. I ordered her to leave immediately and go home. She called me an hour later and told me everything was fine, she was sleepy, and was going to turn in for the night.”
“That sounds normal.”
“It wasn’t normal! She called me from a strange number, and The Impossible Date is on tonight and she’d rather lose a spell finger than miss it. So I went to her house.”
“She wasn’t home.”
“Damn right she wasn’t home. So I came here. I knew immediately who had her. Their signature is all over this place like neon lights in a pig barn.”
I glanced around the room and took in another breath. Nothing. “Who has her?”
“The sorcerers.”
“Why would the sorcerers want Marcy?”
“Are you really that daft?” Tally strode over to me. Magic flowed around her, sizzling the air. “They want you, of course. They took my niece because you weren’t available. Likely to extract information, but if we’re lucky there’s still time to ransom her back.”
I looked down at this woman. She didn’t have to prove anything—she just was. She was the opposite of Selene in every way. “I’d gladly trade myself for Marcy, but how do we know they won’t kill her anyway once we arrange a swap? What we need to do is break her out before they see us coming.”
Tally cocked her head, examining me, taking in my ragged appearance and my big talk. “You think you can defeat the entire Sect of Sorcerers on your own? With your ragtag crew”—she gazed over my shoulder—“and all your powerful combat spells?” She gestured at the boys. “These aren’t games for children. This is big. The High Council of Sorcerers is heavily guarded and you can’t just waltz in undetected.” Her voice ended on an edge and things in the room vibrated with energy. I glanced down at her fingertips and they were sparking, manifesting physically, just like Selene’s had. Tally’s signature was purple.
“No, but you could,” I said.
Surprise flashed over her features. “No. Even I couldn’t walk in under the radar. My radar is too big. What I could do is blow the place up—and likely my niece in the process—but that’s only if I could find it. These are wizards, not bunny rabbits. They are highly skilled and dangerous. I can break their wards, but that doesn’t get me anywhere, because they would be waiting for me with more. They wouldn’t just kidnap my niece willy-nilly. They know what I can do. This is a well-thought-out attack, and they’ve likely taken her to a place we won’t be able to find in time. Only a ransom will work without killing everyone in the process.”
“You might not be able to find them, but we can.” I walked toward the door. “Our noses are perfectly suited for tracking.”
“That’s big talk coming from a newborn wolf.” Tally took a step toward me and power crackled in the air. Rourke growled behind me. “I don’t care if you’re the only female born to your race, it doesn’t mean you can automatically defeat an army of Sorcerers with no training.”
“No, but together we can.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you proposing?”
“We pick up her scent, find where they’ve taken her, and get her back.”
“And what about the wolf who already went after her?” Tally said. “If it was that easy, he would have her back already.”
“Huh?” I wasn’t expecting that. “What wolf? What are you talking about?” I took a quick breath in to see if I could smell anything, but under Tally’s large signature, my entire office smelled like a wolf den. The entire Pack had been here last week. Wolf scent lingered all ove
r. How did Tally know who’d gone after her?
“He won’t succeed, by the way, but he might have a lead,” she said begrudgingly. “If you can get ahold of him, we might have a place to start.”
“I’m sorry, but I still don’t know who you’re talking about exactly.”
She reached out to grab my arm and three sets of snarls rent the air along with a very polite, “Ms. Tally, I’m sure we can work this all out. There’s no need to get hostile.”
She ignored every single snarl and addressed them all with a glare. “I’m not abducting her, you fools. I’m taking her outside. With your superior scent detection—things wolves love to brag about—are you all telling me that you missed the most important piece of this so far?”
She tugged me by the shirtsleeve out of the office. Everyone trailed after her. She was a remarkably strong woman for such a tiny person. I had no idea how old she was, and witches aged differently than shifters, but I was thinking old.
She yanked open the door to the parking lot, the one we’d all just tiptoed through, and marched us directly across the asphalt, coming to a stop by a large patch of bushes.
I walked a few paces closer, my fingers reaching out to touch the green leaves. I took a big breath in and inhaled, pulling the night air over my tongue. My eyebrows shot up into my hairline and I turned around, meeting a few more surprised faces. We’d all scented the same thing.
“James.”
The End of Book Two.
The story continues in book three of The Jessica McClain Series:
Cold Blooded
Acknowledgments
To my husband, Bill. You are amazing. There’s no way I could embark on this journey without you. You’ve supported me at every turn, you pick up the slack at home with no complaint, and you keep me laughing. I love you.
To my kids, Paige, Nat, and Jane. Thanks for putting up with cheese and crackers for dinner and being patient with my deadlines. You guys are amazing. Someday you’ll get to read my books. I promise.
To my agent, Nicole Resciniti. You are beyond wonderful. You cheer me on, put up with my stress, and believe in me like no other. You’re so talented at what you do and have such a great heart. Thank you for all you do.
To Amanda Bonilla for keeping me sane all the time and without question. You are such a bright light on this journey and I’m so very thankful to have you in my life.
To my awesome early readers, as always, DeLane Corbin and Kathy Faircloth, for all your cheerleading, e-mails, notes, tweets, and support. I love you guys!
To my author pals at Magic & Mayhem, Shawntelle Madison, Sandy Williams, and Nadia Lee for including me in the fold. So happy to have joined the ranks.
To Cindi, for always being there. Without your awesomeness, the world would be a bleak place. To Mira Lyn Kelly and Carolyn Crane for being my Minnesota rocks. Every time we get together and talk writing, I’m happy.
To Molly Winkels, for your unfaltering enthusiasm and support. I have the best family in the world.
To my agency mates Jules, Amanda, Lea, Melissa, Jen, Marianne, Marisa, Cecy, and everyone else at the Seymour Agency, for all their awesome shoulders, advice, help, and laughter. You guys rock.
To my editor, Devi, and the entire crew at Orbit—Tim, Anna, Susan, Lauren, Laura, Alex, and Ellen—for being so wonderful. I’m excited to write every day because of all of you. Thanks for making my dreams come true. To my awesome copy editor, Penina Lopez, for correcting my all my “further”s and “farther”s and for help in making this manuscript the best it can be.
To all my new fans! It’s been such a fun journey so far. I hope you enjoyed the book. To all the reviewers who have supported me. I’m blown away. Thank you for your willingness to spread the word and for giving an honest review.
And to my parents, to whom this book is dedicated. Your enthusiasm for my writing knows no bounds. You give your love freely and often. I’m beyond lucky to have you.
extras
meet the author
Paige Carlson
A Minnesota girl born and bred, AMANDA CARLSON graduated from the University of Minnesota with a double major in speech and hearing science and child development. After enjoying her time as a sign language interpreter, she decided to stay at home and write in earnest once her second child was born. She loves playing Scrabble, visiting tropical beaches, and shopping trips to IKEA. She lives in Minneapolis with her husband and three kids.
To find out more about the author, visit www.amandacarlson.com or find her on Twitter @AmandaCCarlson.
introducing
If you enjoyed
HOT BLOODED,
look out for
RED-HEADED STEPCHILD
by Jaye Wells
Sabina Kane is half-mage, half-vampire and all attitude. Despite her red-headed stepchild status in the vampire community, she remains loyal to the vampire leaders who raised her to be an assassin.
When a routine mission uncovers startling secrets that could destroy the uneasy truce between vampires and mages, Sabina must find a way to prevent an all-out war. Helping Sabina navigate this treacherous world are a high-maintenance hairless cat demon, a prognosticating nymph who used to work in faery porn, and a mysterious mage with an agenda…
Digging graves is hell on a manicure, but I was taught good vampires clean up after every meal. So I ignored the chipped onyx polish. I ignored the dirt caked under my nails. I ignored my palms, rubbed raw and blistering. And when a snapping twig announced David’s arrival, I ignored him too.
He said nothing, just stood off behind a thicket of trees waiting for me to acknowledge him. Despite his silence, I could feel hot waves of disapproval flying in my direction.
At last, the final scoop of earth fell onto the grave. Stalling, I leaned on the shovel handle and restored order to my hair. Next I brushed flecks of dirt from my cashmere sweater. Not the first choice of digging attire for some, but I always believed manual labor was no excuse for sloppiness. Besides, the sweater was black, so it went well with the haphazard funerary rites.
The Harvest Moon, a glowing orange sphere, still loomed in the sky. Plenty of time before sunrise. In the distance, traffic hummed like white noise in the City of Angels. I took a moment to appreciate the calm.
Memory of the phone call from my grandmother intruded. When she told me the target of my latest assignment, an icy chill spread through my veins. I’d almost hung up, unable to believe what she was asking me to do. But when she told me David was working with Clovis Trakiya, white-hot anger replaced the chill. I called up that anger now to spur my resolve. I clenched my teeth and ignored the cold stone sitting in my stomach. My own feelings about David were irrelevant now. The minute he decided to work with one of the Dominae’s enemies—a glorified cult leader who wanted to overthrow their power—he’d signed his death warrant.
Unable to put it off any longer, I turned to him. “What’s up?”
David stalked out of his hiding place, a frown marring the perfect planes of his face. “Do you want to tell me why you’re burying a body?”
“Who, me?” I asked, tossing the shovel to the ground. My palms were already healing. I wish I could say the same for my guilty conscience. If David thought I should apologize for feeding from a human, I didn’t want to know what he was going to say in about five minutes.
“Cut the shit, Sabina. You’ve been hunting again.” His eyes glowed with accusation. “What happened to the synthetic blood I gave you?”
“That stuff tastes like shit,” I said. “It’s like nonalcoholic beer. What’s the point?”
“Regardless, it’s wrong to feed from humans.”
It’s also wrong to betray your race, I thought. If there was one thing about David that always got my back up, it was his holier-than-thou attitude. Where were his morals when he made the decision to sell out?
Keep it together, Sabina. It will all be over in a few minutes.
“Oh, come on. It was just a stupid drug dealer,” I said,
forcing myself to keep up the banter. “If it makes you feel any better, he was selling to kids.”
David crossed his arms and said nothing.
“Though I have to say nothing beats Type O mixed with a little cannabis.”
A muscle worked in David’s jaw. “You’re stoned?”
“Not really,” I said. “Though I do have a strange craving for pizza. Extra garlic.”
He took a deep breath. “What am I going to do with you?” His lips quirked despite his harsh tone.
“First of all, no more lectures. We’re vampires, David. Mortal codes of good and evil don’t apply to us.”
He arched a brow. “Don’t they?”
“Whatever,” I said. “Can we just skip the philosophical debates for once?”
He shook his head. “Okay then, why don’t you tell me why we’re meeting way out here?”
Heaving a deep sigh, I pulled my weapon. David’s eyes widened as I aimed the custom-made pistol between them.
His eyes pivoted from the gun to me. I hoped he didn’t notice the slight tremor in my hands.
“I should have known when you called me,” he said. “You never do that.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?” His calm unsettled me.
“I know why.” He crossed his arms and regarded me closely. “The question is, do you?”
My eye twitched. “I know enough. How could you betray the Dominae?”
He didn’t flinch. “One of these days your blind obedience to the Dominae is going to be your downfall.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t waste your final words on another lecture.”
He lunged before the last word left my lips. He plowed into me, knocking the breath out of my chest and the gun from my hand. We landed in a tangle of limbs on the fresh grave. Dirt and fists flew as we each struggled to gain advantage. He grabbed my hair and whacked my head into the dirt. Soil tunneled up my nose and rage blurred my vision.
Hot Blooded Page 28