Back Every Which Way But Dead
Chapters (42)
  1. EVERY
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. Twenty-six
  30. Twenty-seven
  31. Twenty-eight
  32. Twenty-nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-one
  35. Thirty-two
  36. Thirty-three
  37. The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
  38. Chapter 2
  39. About the Author
  40. Praise for KIM HARRISON’sprevious Rachel Morgan novelsDEAD WITCH WALKING andTHE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UNDEAD
  41. Also by Kim Harrison
  42. About the publisher

For a long moment I looked at him, watching his jaw slowly tighten when he realized I was balancing and not knowing which way I was going to jump. Feeling cocky and self-assured, I raised my eyebrows. “Oh hell, Trent. I was going after Lee anyway. What do you think I was doing in your bathtub for two hours? Washing my hair?”

I had no choice but to tag Lee after he tried to blow me up. If I didn’t, every mark I put behind bars was going to come out gunning for me.

Trent’s face went annoyed. “You’ve got it figured out already, don’t you?” he asked, irritation thick in his river-gray voice.

“Mostly.” I beamed, and Quen sighed, clearly having seen beforehand that I was going to snooker his boss but good. “I just need to call my insurance agent and set it up.”

Knowing I had gotten the better of Trent was worth more than he could ever line my pockets with, and I snorted when Quen whispered, “Her insurance agent?”

Still sitting, I pointed a finger at Trent. “I’ve got two things for you to do. Two things, then you back off and let me work. I’m not doing this as a committee. Understand?”

Eyebrows high, Trent said flatly, “What do you want?”

“First, I want you to go to the FIB and tell them Lee knocked out all those people and locked the doors knowing there was a bomb on the boat.”

Trent laughed, his warm voice taking on a biting edge. “What is that going to get you?”

“They’ll go looking for him. He’ll go underground. A warrant will be filed, and with that, I have a legal right to pick him up.”

Trent’s eyes widened. Behind him, Quen nodded. “That’s why…” Trent murmured.

I couldn’t help my smile. “You can run from the law, but standing up your insurance adjustor?” I shook my head. “Not a good idea.”

“You’re going to get in to kill him posing as an insurance agent?”

I wished I could say I was surprised. God, he was so arrogant. “I don’t kill people, Trent. I haul their asses to lockup, and I need a reason for keeping him there. I thought he was your friend.”

A hint of uncertainty flickered over Trent. “I thought he was, too.”

“Maybe his girlfriend knocked him on the head and forced him into leaving?” I said, not believing it. “Wouldn’t you feel bad if you killed him, then found out he had tried to save you?”

Trent gave me a weary look. “Always seeing the best in a person, Ms. Morgan?”

“Yeah. Except with you.” I started making a mental list of who I had to tell I was alive: Kisten, Jenks—if he’d listen—Ceri, Keasley…Nick? Oh God, my mom. That one ought to be fun.