Chapters (29)
- Praise
- Also by Ilona Andrews
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- EPILOGUE
- Authors’ Note
- “An Ill-Advised Rescue”
- About the Authors
“No, I’m telling you not to volunteer information.” If Curran got involved, it would be all over. “What the Beast Lord doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Or me.”
I went through the security checkpoint and down the wide staircase that ran the height of the Keep’s main tower. Luckily I didn’t have to go too far. Jim’s spy operation occupied rooms two floors below.
I found Jim in the small kitchenette getting a cup of coffee. Tall, with muscle definition that made you wince, Jim prided himself on the ability to intimidate by simply being there. He was in his early thirties, with skin that matched the coffee in his cup and short hair, cut close to the scalp. Normally he didn’t stand, he loomed like a menacing shadow, but right now he was on his home turf, and the air of threat had dropped off to tolerable levels. He leaned against the wall with one arm, drinking coffee, looking relaxed, and when he saw me, he smiled without showing his teeth. Jim Shrapshire, a sweet and welcoming jaguar. Aha. Not buying it, buster.
“Is there any coffee left?”
Jim hefted the metal pot. “There is.”
I grabbed a mug and watched him pour the nearly black liquid out. Back when we both worked for the Mercenary Guild, Jim preferred to take night jobs. The giant vat of coffee was made once, in the morning. By the end of the night, no sane soul would touch it. Jim drank it like water.
Jim filled my mug. I sniffed it. So far, so good. I took a brave sip. The bitter scalding liquid slid a third of the way down my throat and got stuck. “Dear God.”
He grinned.
“Jim, if I turn the cup upside down, it will roll out slowly like molasses.”
“That’s how you know it’s good. Drink it, it will put hair on your chest.”
“My chest is fine as is, thanks. You’re in a good mood.”
“I’m always in a good mood, Kate. What brings you to my lair?”
“Saiman called.”
Jim skewed his face. He hated Saiman the way cats hated water. “What does he want?”
“He’s been kidnapped and he wants someone to bring his kidnappers a million dollars.”
Jim blinked. For a second his face froze, slapped by surprise, and then the Pack chief of security leaned back and laughed.
I sipped the horrible coffee. I’d known him for years and I could count on one hand the number of times I’d heard him laugh.
Jim chortled.
“Keep it coming.” I waved at him. “Get it out of your system.”
I managed two more swallows of coffee by the time he finally got himself under control enough to talk.
“Do you have a million dollars, Kate? You must’ve done a lot better at the Guild than I did.”
Laugh it up, why don’t you. “Have you heard anything about Red Guard going rogue?”