Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Roc Books by Jacqueline Carey
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
I couldn’t let that happen again. This time, there would be witnesses. Casimir’s coven was on standby, and I had every intention of calling in whatever additional backup I thought would be useful, whether it was taking the chief up on his offer of mundane assistance from the department, calling in a marker with Stefan to have an army of Outcast escort Emmeline out of town, or hell, even brand-new badass vampire Bethany if it happened to go down after sunset. But ultimately, I was Hel’s liaison. No one else. However I did it, whatever it took to get the job done, protecting Sinclair and upholding Hel’s order was my responsibility. If I wanted to maintain any shred of authority in this town, I had to be tough, a hell of a lot tougher than I’d been so far.
I had to be strong. Ruthless.
Unhesitating.
Thirty-two
When I was a kid, it was the days of summer that slipped away too quickly, one lazy sunlit idyll blurring into the next, punctuated by the occasional excitement of a thunderstorm rolling across Lake Michigan.
September was the time when all of summer’s indolence ground to a screeching halt with the return to school, to being trapped behind a desk on a hard seat that bruised my tail no matter how much I tucked or squirmed, breathing in the scent of chalk dust, listening to teachers drone, flies buzzing against classroom windows, the minute hand on the clock inching along with agonizing slowness.
Funny how different things are when you’re an adult. This year, the remaining days of September fled.
It’s not like anything of note happened. I spent most of my time going through the X-Files, inputting data into the Pemkowet Ledger. It gave me a sense of satisfaction to see the database growing from a vague inkling of an idea into a useful, searchable tool. Plus, I was getting paid for doing the work.
I’m happy to say that I also helped Jen move out of her parents’ house. After a lot of soul-searching, several long talks with her brother, and a visit to Sinclair’s place to get a tour of his spare room and the battery of magical protections Casimir and his coven had implemented, she decided it was time. When I reminded her that dear Emmy’s return was just around the bend, she shrugged.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “I plan on making myself scarce. But if that doesn’t work, right now I figure when it comes to hostile sorceresses, Sinclair’s is now officially the safest place in town.”
She had a point.