Chapters (42)
- Title Page
- 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
- Acknowledgements
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
- Cover
Nick glanced at where Jax had left the zip strips, then turned back to us. “No problem,” he said, looking skinny as he tossed the clippers to the closest bench, where they slid to a noisy stop. “You want to crash for a few hours? I’ve got a room across the street.”
I shifted nervously, feeling cold in a garage that had never seen the sun, surrounded by concrete, tools to strip a car to nothing, and the men messing around with them—and watching me. “Sure. Thanks, Nick.”
My fingers slipped into Pierce’s hand as we headed for the man door, shocking the hell out of him, but I wanted Nick to know that I didn’t consider his helping us as anything other than a temporary encounter. The guys watching laughed at both men’s reactions, but I didn’t care. If they thought I was an insecure airheaded fluff, then all the better.
Pierce’s brow furrowed, and suddenly the ley-line pressure between us eased as he drew on the same line and brought himself, holding an amount of energy, nearer mine.
Nick saw Pierce’s fingers intertwined with mine. Expression unchanging, he pulled open the man door fixed in the garage door. “Jax!” he shouted, and the pixy zipped back, tucking himself into the outside pocket of Nick’s faded cloth coat just as the sun spilled in across our feet. “Just across the street,” he said again, squinting at the bright spring sun.
Pierce and I followed. His fingers moved against mine, taking my grip more firmly, and I stifled a start when a budding sensation of warmth grew in the cup of my hand. What in hell is he doing? I thought, then yanked free. Pierce smiled, and I glared at him. It hadn’t been a power pull, but it had been something. And I didn’t like his jaunty new step either.
The building Nick was heading toward looked bigger than most. I was guessing it had once been a theater, with SALTY CHOCOLATE in faded letters where the movie titles would have been. Dinner theater? I wondered, changing my mind when we entered the barred door to find a wide foyer with an unlit neon sign proclaiming it was the Salty Chocolate Bar. There was another set of barred gates; beyond them were a quiet space full of tables, a dance floor with three poles, the smell of Brimstone, and a long bar. The bar had a stripper pole, too. No one was in there, but the dark light display made me remember Kisten.