“Armstrong, author of the popular Otherworld series, excels at world-building, and this reverse Cinderella story perfectly launches a new series chronicling the irresistibly odd and creepy Cainsville universe. Fantasy fans will be eager to make repeated visits.”

—Booklist on Omens

Also by Kelley Armstrong

ALSO BY KELLEY ARMSTRONG

THE CAINSVILLE SERIES

Omens

Visions

THE OTHERWORLD SERIES

Bitten

Stolen

Dime Store Magic

Industrial Magic

Haunted

Broken

No Humans Involved

Personal Demon

Living with the Dead

Frostbitten

Waking the Witch

Spell Bound

Thirteen

THE NADIA STAFFORD SERIES

Exit Strategy

Made to be Broken

Wild Justice

THE DARKEST POWERS SERIES

The Summoning

The Awakening

The Reckoning

THE DARKNESS RISING SERIES

The Gathering

The Calling

The Rising

STORY COLLECTIONS

Men of the Otherworld

Tales of the Otherworld

Werewolves

Spellcasters

Otherworld Nights

Otherworld Secrets

E-SPECIALS

The Hunter and the Hunted

Dedication

FOR JEFF

CHAPTER ONE

I woke to my ex-fiancé calling. Which was awkward, considering we’d broken up only two months ago and I was in another guy’s apartment. Even more awkward when that guy wasn’t the one I was currently dating. In my defense, I was on the couch.

My first thought was not Answer the damned phone, Olivia. It was of a letter from my father, read right before I went to sleep, which had not been conducive to good dreams and had left me in no mood to talk to James Morgan. I reached for my phone and hit Ignore. A moment later, a shadow loomed over me.

Gabriel picked up my phone. “James. He left a message. I should take it.”

“Um, my cell? My ex?”

“Your stalker, too.”

I looked up. Gabriel is at least six-four and knows how to use his size to his advantage. Hence the looming.

When I nodded, he listened to the message as I tried very hard to push aside thoughts of James and the roller-coaster ride that began when I found out my real parents were convicted serial killers. The ride had ultimately landed me here, sleeping in the apartment of one of Chicago’s most notorious defense attorneys. My lawyer. My boss. And, though I’d never dare say it in front of him, my friend.

Gabriel Walsh doesn’t have friends. He has resources: people who can be exploited and used. I’d like to think I’m an exception, but I don’t push my luck.

“James heard about last night,” Gabriel said after listening to the message.

“The car crash?”

“Yes, but I believe he’s more concerned about the crazed killer who caused the crash and held you at gunpoint.”

“Oh, that.”

“A minor point, but it seems to bother him.”

“Unreasonably so.”

“Agreed. Coffee?”

I rose and started for the kitchen. “I’ll make it. You were in that accident, too, and hurt a lot worse than me. You should be resting.”