Chapters (42)
- EVERY
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- 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
- The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
- Chapter 2
- About the Author
- Praise for KIM HARRISON’sprevious Rachel Morgan novelsDEAD WITCH WALKING andTHE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UNDEAD
- Also by Kim Harrison
- About the publisher
“Ivy’s not here?” he said, his eyes giving me the onceover. “Shoot.”
I took a breath to settle myself. “Shoot?” I questioned, sliding the cracked egg off the counter and into the bowl. I didn’t think anyone said shoot anymore.
“Can I say shit?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Shit, then.” His gaze went from me to the kitchen, lacing his hands behind his back as I picked the bigger chunks of shell out.
“Hey, would you, ah, turn the music down for me?” I said, sneaking a glance at him when he nodded and walked out. It was Saturday, and he was dressed casually in leather boots and faded jeans that were nice and tight. His short leather coat was open, and a burgundy silk shirt showed a wisp of chest hair. Just enough, I thought as the music softened. I could smell his coat. I was a sucker for the scent of leather. This might be a problem.
“Are you sure Ivy didn’t send you over to baby-sit?” I questioned as he returned and I wiped the egg slime off on a damp dishcloth.
He chuckled and sat in Ivy’s chair. “No.” He hesitated. “Is she going to be gone for a while, or can I wait?”
I didn’t look up from the recipe, not liking how he had said that. There had been more inquiry in his voice than the question warranted. “Ivy went to talk to Jenks.” I ran my finger down the page without looking at the words. “Then she’s having dinner with her folks.”
“Sunup,” he murmured, and I felt my warning flags go up. All of them.
The clock above the sink ticked, and I took the melted chocolate off the stove. I wasn’t about to stand with my back to him, so I set it on the counter between us, crossing my arms in front of me and putting my backside against the sink. Watching me, he tossed his hair out of his eyes. I took a breath to tell him to go, but he interrupted.
“Are you all right?”
I stared blankly at him, then remembered. “Oh! The demon—thing,” I muttered, embarrassed as I touched the pain charms about my neck. “You heard about that, huh?”
He smiled with half his mouth. “You made the news. And I had to listen to Ivy for three solid hours while she bitched about not being here at the time.”