Chapters (48)
- Title Page
- 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
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- The Undead Pool: An Excerpt
- Chapter 2
- About the Author
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Credits
- About the Publisher
Glenn leaned closer while holding the bigger man helpless. “You,” the FIB detective said softly, “are a disgrace.” He pushed on Denon’s arm, and the man grunted again, sweat beading up on his shaved head. “Either crap or get off the pot, but this halfway nothing is giving the rest of us a bad name.” Shoving him away, Glenn set his hand comfortably near the butt of his weapon.
Denon caught his balance and spun to face us. Hatred that Glenn had shown him up in front of his peons radiated from him. It was obvious his shoulder hurt, but he didn’t touch it.
“I can handle my own battles, Glenn,” I said dryly to distract Denon. I might survive one of Denon’s retaliations, but Glenn was vulnerable without his gun and the element of surprise.
Glenn frowned. “He wasn’t going to fight you fair,” he said, handing me one of those zip-strips with a charmed core of silver that the I.S. used to keep ley line witches in custody.
My eyes went from the innocuous-seeming strip of plastic to the witch, then to Denon, scowling. “You little pissant,” I said loudly. “What’s the matter with you? All I want to do is look at the body. You got something to hide?” I took a step forward, and Glenn caught my arm. “If you’ve got a beef with me, let’s do coffee and I’ll explain things to you in little words,” I said, jerking from Glenn. “Otherwise, get out of my way so we can do our job. Until murder has been ruled out, the FIB has as much right to look at the body as you do.”
The little vein in Denon’s forehead had popped, and the low-blood vamp gestured for everyone to fall back to the van. They moved slowly, hands in their pockets or fiddling with equipment. From out of sight, I heard the rustling of the FIB guys. The tension grew, not lessened, and I pressed my weight into the earth in case I had to move fast. Ceri’s advice to avoid ley line magic flitted through me, but I sent a thought out for the nearest line anyway.
“You’re a fool, Morgan,” Denon said, his resonant voice vibrating in me though he stood ten feet away beside a tall tombstone. “Your search for the truth is going to kill you.”
That sounded more like a threat than before, but he was walking away, I.S. personnel trailing behind him. At a loss, I tucked the zip-strip into my bag and looked for Jenks while Glenn organized the FIB personnel. Jenks was staying out of sight, though I’m sure he had seen the encounter. Slowly my pulse eased, soothed by the sounds of the insects and lapping water.