The middle sister took over. “An interesting philosophy. Not one we share, but this particular job may require some of those unique skills.”

I perked up. “Oh?”

“We have a spirit who’s escaped from the lower realms. We need you to bring her in.”

The lower realms are where they keep the seriously nasty criminals. Interesting…

“First, you need to do some research.” The middle-aged Fate reached into the air and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is a list of books—”

“Books? Look, I’m sure you guys are in a hurry, so why don’t we skip this part? I’m really more the hands-on sort.”

The girl appeared, grinning mischievously. “In that case, let’s do it the hands-on way.”

She waved a hand, and a ball of light whipped out and blinded me.

“Shhhhhh.”

The light fell in a shower of sparks. I blinked, then saw only darkness. The same voice continued to shush me, a long-drawn-out monotone of a breath that, after a moment, I realized wasn’t a voice at all, but the rush of air past my ears….

BROKEN

BROKEN

Ever since she discovered she’s pregnant, Elena Michaels has been on edge. After all, she’s never heard of another living female werewolf, let alone one who’s given birth. Worried about dooming her baby to a life torn between the human and supernatural worlds—and tired of being fussed over by her boyfriend, Clay—Elena needs a distraction. Thankfully, her expertise is needed to retrieve a stolen letter allegedly written by Jack the Ripper. The job seems simple enough, except for an unexpected surprise…. The letter contains a portal to Victorian London’s underworld, which Elena inadvertently triggers—unleashing a vicious killer and a pair of zombie thugs. Now Elena must find a way to seal the portal before the unwelcome visitors get what they’re looking for—which, for some unknown reason, is Elena….

On the other side of the playground was a cluster of picnic tables. At one, a mother divvied up animal crackers to three howling preschoolers as she shot furtive glances over her shoulder at the lone man a few tables away. He was brown-haired and in his late thirties, with a thin scar running down his cheek and no attached kids in sight.

I snuck up behind him, then leaned into his ear.

“She thinks you’re a pervert,” I whispered.

Xavier jumped, then grinned. “Is that it? Whew. I thought she was trying to pick me up.”

The woman at the other table breathed a sigh of relief as I sat across from him.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” he said. “So does the location suit? Nothing safer than a playground. Absolutely no reason to regret not bringing the boyfriend.”

“How do you know I didn’t? You’ve never met Clay.”