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
My head jerked up. “What!” I shouted. “He did it? Glenn got a warrant? Why didn’t you tell me!”
Silver dust slipped from Jenks, and he returned to the washer. “He has the verbal okay, and he’s on his way to the FIB’s headquarters in Detroit to get the original paperwork. That’s why I let you sleep. He doesn’t want you to do anything until he has the papers in his hand. Hours yet. You need any help in the kitchen?”
“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, pulse quickening. I looked at what I was wearing, then at the shower, fingers undoing a button. I had to get cleaned up. This was just too cool.
“It was you,” Jenks said, his features glowing with pride. “Thanks to your tip that Trent confessed to the murders, Glenn got approval to take another crack at Brett’s body. He lifted a print off Brett’s toenail before they moved him back to a person and destroyed it. It matched one they got from Trent from when you got him hauled in last year.”
“Hot damn!” I whispered, too excited to be disgusted that I had more than Trent’s admission that he had abducted, tortured, and killed another person in the name of…whatever holy mission he thought he was on. “I’ve got to get dressed. I have to go to work.” I put a hand to my snarled hair and hesitated. “Uh, Glenn’s going to let me bring him in, right?”
“Yup.” Jenks hovered an inch from the cool porcelain, wings faintly humming. “He said he’s turning this over to you, seeing as you’re…Just a minute, I want to get this right. He said you’re not a detective person but a smack-them-up-and-bring-them-in person. All he wants is for you to wait until he has the paperwork in his hands. That’s why he’s going up there to get it himself. He’s afraid it will get lost in the fax machine or something.”
I didn’t blame him. Not for one glorious moment. Ecstatic, I headed to the kitchen to see if I needed to make anything. “I’ve got a warrant for Trent for murder,” I said, sliding the last yard or so in my socks to land in the threshold. “I’m going to tag him! I’m going to get him off my back for good! And I don’t have to rescue a demon familiar to do it!”
Jenks was smiling at me. “You are so funny,” he said. “It’s like Christmas for you.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling the blood thrum in me as I found the sun-bright kitchen. The window was open, but still, the faint scent of yew from the forget potion I’d been planning on making for Newt lingered. “Let me think. You going to be around this afternoon, Jenks? I’m going to need your help.”