Dead Drop: My Immortals, #6

By Carolyn Jewel

She loathes demons. He almost killed her. There's a thin like between hate… and love.

Wallace Jackson is a pacifist street witch with power she can't access. Her efforts to work with demons to unlock her dangerous, unusual ability leave her sick for days, and she wants nothing more than to give up. The help of Palla, a demon warlord's most deadly assassin, changes her mind.

Palla is an enforcer and a stone-cold killer. He's also haunted by his inability to save his former lover from a torturous living death. The witch may be the only one who can help to free his lover's spirit from unimaginable suffering.

He wants a favor. She can't stand him, but she also can't say no. As Palla helps Wallace gain control of her magic, they realize there might be more between them than a mission. Will the tension boil over before the task is through?

Dead Drop is a paranormal romance novel set in the My Immortals saga, a series set around a magical war between demons and magekind. If you like magical action, growing romance, and well-written drama, then you'll love Carolyn Jewel's compelling story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: cJewel Books
• Release date: Dec 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781937823252

Carolyn Jewel

Carolyn Jewel is an award-winning author who writes historical romance for Berkley Books and paranormal romance for Grand Central Forever. She is the author of "The King's Dragon" for Heroes and Heartbreakers. She lives in northern California and eats too much chocolate. She also bakes pies and cakes and feeds them to friends and family.

Book preview

Acknowledgement

My thanks to Carolyn Crane for reading early versions. And to Robin Harders for her editorial expertise. As ever, big thanks to my sister and my son.

CHAPTER 1

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Wallace wasn’t a woman easily discouraged, but the facts were stark. The whole come here and practice witchcraft idea? Not working. Not at any level. She was done pretending. Done smiling after she failed again. Done with pretending she belonged here. Just, you know, no more.

No more. She’d ducked into Maddy’s kitchen to steal a few minutes of dignity for herself, but she was conscious the social clock was ticking down. If she stayed here any longer, she’d be conspicuous by her absence, and Randi would for sure key in on that. Sad truth: Randi was a lioness, Wallace was the weak gazelle.

She remained at the kitchen sink with her head bowed and a paper cup of water in one hand. Pep-talking herself. No more feeling defeated and sorry for herself. Buck up, lady. You’re used to not belonging. Get over it, and get on with it. Like that, with some useless affirmations thrown in for good measure. I am a good person. I work hard. I am kind to kittens and puppies. Most people like me. She could be the nicest person in the world, and she still wouldn’t be able to do magic.

The kitchen where she was hiding out was in the Kensington, California home of Maddy Winters. The house had a killer view, a pool, and an open, airy plan. It was also one steep hill, two bus rides, and one long, long walk from Wallace’s South Berkeley rental.

The thought of going back in there with the others made her ill, even though after tonight she was done. There was no point to her being here. When she got home tonight, she was going to email Maddy that she wasn’t coming back. Nice and tidy, with the added benefit of no drama. No one had to fake being sad or regretful. She drank her water, refilled the cup, and turned around.

Her stomach twisted into a knot of razor blades.

Randi stood so close Wallace had to lift her cup over her head to have any hope of not spilling water all over her, Randi, and the kitchen floor. Since Randi didn’t move back, Wallace leaned against the counter.

All she had to do was get through this evening. She could deal with Randi that long. Maybe just long enough to go home sick. Randi looked at her, and all she saw was a sick gazelle.

God, Wallace. Knock me over, why don’t you?

I did not— Her paper cup flashed hot, and her stomach turned into a black hole. Luckily, the contact burn stopped as quickly as it had started, and she managed not to drop her water.

Randi darted a look at the cup. Expecting singe marks? Do you have to be so clumsy?

Sorry if I startled you. She wasn’t. She really wasn’t. In fact, the only thing she was sorry for was apologizing. Randi’s pettiness with the water was an emphatic period to her decision. If she hadn’t been entirely sure she was going to send that email tonight, she was now. Weeks of being relentlessly polite had failed. She wasn’t going to try anymore. I didn’t know you were that close.

Randi flicked her blonde hair behind her shoulders. Some witches flat out hated people like her. Where people like her meant not very talented. In fairness to Randi, the other reasons for her issues with Wallace appeared not to be a factor. Some people were not nice. That was Randi. Like you didn’t hear me come in.

She met Randi’s gaze, as wide-eyed and fake as possible. Sure didn’t.

You are nothing. Nothing, you hear me?

Instinct kicked in, and Wallace replied in cool tones. You need to leave me alone.

Really? Her eyebrows shot up. Or else what?

No one was here to see so, no surprise, Randi bumped her again, smiling the whole time. Water sloshed up against one side of her cup. The black hole in her mid-section shifted. It was like being on the ocean in bad weather.

Whoops.

Wallace spoke through her nausea. Go away.

Randi glanced over her shoulder at the archway from the kitchen to the entry. The others were still around the corner in the living room, but she lowered her voice anyway. Nobody cares who you are, or where you come from, or how hard your life was. Kiss Maddy’s ass all you want, and you still won’t matter. Not here. Not with us. You can’t do anything that matters.

She willed the woman to settle down. The calmer and more peaceful Wallace was, the calmer others were. During her years of being picked on as a girl, taunted for being poor, for being an orphan, for being tall, being black, too smart, too dumb, not black enough, for being different, she’d learned to bring calm to a tense situation. Since then, she’d elevated that gift to an art form. Survival and all that. You need to leave, Randi.

Randi took a step back. Who do you think she wants around in the long run? A no-talent like you? Or someone like me? She set her weight on one hip. I really don’t think there’s going to be any contest.

Contest. Calm. There was nothing here but calm. She had too much practice dealing with people who made Randi look like BFF material. There’s no contest. If there is one, then, I promise you, I have not been competing.

We both know you’d lose.

For half a second Wallace was convinced Randi was going to shove her into the kitchen counter. Wallace called on every inch of her calm. There would be no violence. No. None. Nothing. Violence was unacceptable. Unbearable. She lifted her free hand. You win. I lose.

Randi hooked a finger in the cup Wallace held and jerked.

Water went airborne.

For the second time in one night, the pit of her stomach turned into a black hole of pain. Her usual reaction to conflict had already made her sick to her stomach. Now there was the unpleasant addition of knife blades shredding the edges of that tremendous, flexing, hollow.

She was so, so tired of this BS. There was a hiss and a pulse of heat and then steam wafted in the air. The slicing pain in Wallace’s stomach got worse, to the point where she really thought she was going to heave.

Randi staggered back then bent over, gasping, one hand on her upper chest. Her mouth and eyes twisted up. She didn’t look too steady either. In fact, she looked like she was going fall over. What the—

On instinct, she reached for Randi and got her hand slapped away for her trouble. Fine. Point made. No more being nice.

Randi clenched her hands. You no talent street bitch.

Street bitch was Randi’s favorite rhyme for street witch. A term, it so happened, that barely applied to Wallace, and one Randi didn’t use when others were around to hear.

What the ever loving hell? Maddy Winters strode into the kitchen where Wallace and Randi stood. Her pointy-toed shoes clicked with authority, and her eyes were big and wide and fixed on Randi. The woman was all of what, five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet? That was not the way Wallace ever wanted Maddy Winters to look at her. Randi?

There wasn’t a single person in this house who wasn’t afraid of Maddy when she was angry. I can explain.

Please do.

Thank God for any favors to come her way on her last day at Maddy’s house. Maybe it wasn’t nice, but she was glad Randi was about to get in trouble for the unauthorized use of magic. She deserved it. Her hand still ached from that petty trick with the cup.

Maddy tapped her toe. I’m waiting.

I’m sorry, Maddy. Randi smoothed her golden hair into place. I guess I overreacted.

What happened?

"I was getting a drink, and she came in." That familiar scorn hardly reached her now. Wallace consoled herself with the fact that after tonight she’d never have to hear it again.

Maddy shot Wallace a glance. Wallace kept her expression neutral. Nothing would touch her, not even Randi’s implication that Wallace was some sort of cootie-carrying serial killer, which was hilarious, come to think of it. And?

Randi was all about the incredulity. You’d think she was the sweetest person in the whole world. She jostled me.

In the face of another outright lie, Wallace lost a bit of her I don’t give a shit about this attitude.

She ran into me. On purpose. Randi pointed at her. And I was just so hyped up from our practice, I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t mean it, Maddy. Honestly, I didn’t. You know I’m working on my control. Randi’s saccharine smile disappeared when she faced Wallace. I apologize. I should not have used magic against anyone, but especially not someone as defenseless as you.

From her place of disturbed serenity, Wallace summoned a smile. Her stomach stayed an aching void, and it was making her lightheaded. God, she wanted this to be over. Back to no one paying her any attention. She’d sit at the edges of the group, failing at everything, and they’d all leave her alone. Well, they would if she came back, which she wasn’t going to do.

I got fed up. Randi bounced up on her feet. Quite the trick in those shoes. She looked to Maddy for support. Wallace couldn’t tell what Maddy thought, but nothing good, considering her frown.

Fed up over what? Maddy said.

Wallace. We’re all fed up with her.

She’d seen this dynamic played out way too often to think this might come out in her favor. Never had. Never would. Never could. All the same, none of the words affected her. She was serene.

I’m sorry, Maddy, but she contributes nothing. It’s so much easier when she’s not here. You must have noticed that. And then she was in here giving me a hard time all because she’s jealous.

Jealous? Maybe. Some. What wouldn’t she give for even an atom of Randi’s talent? One speck would be enough to keep the lionesses of the world off her back. Nobody, but nobody, took Wallace seriously in respect of magical gifts. She was as close to vanilla, non-magical normal as anyone could be and still be called a witch. Sort of. Some days—most days—even that much was in doubt.

Wallace? Maddy said.

I was not giving her a hard time. She did not raise her voice, and she didn’t look at Randi. But sure, I’m jealous of anyone who can do magic.

Maddy looked…regretful.

She admits it. Randi’s pleasure in that didn’t change anything one way or the other. "We need to do something, Maddy."

Wallace ignored the emptiness biting at her stomach, that seasick-like movement.

Randi’s anger smoothed out. Maddy’s frown did not change, but that stood to reason. Maddy’s emotions were not directed at her, nor was Maddy the cause of the conflict. That was pure Randi.

Wallace stayed wrapped up, and Randi, for once, didn’t have anything to add. There. Crisis well on its way to being averted. God, she just wanted to go home and never come anywhere near Kensington for the rest of her life. She looked past Randi and crumpled her paper cup. Great. Just great. So much for a quiet, no conflict, withdrawal from these practice sessions. The others were here to rubberneck the bloody kill.

Palla and Moeletsi Tau were at the head of the group filling the archway. Both of them examples of male perfection; fit, cut, gorgeous, one white and one black. One an utter asshole, and the other the most patient being on earth. She liked being around Tau. Unlike Palla, Tau was a calming presence. When he wanted to be.

The rest of the spectators were street witches and mages. Women and a few men Maddy insisted had talent. All of them with more talent in their little fingers than she had in her entire body.

It’s about time someone said something. Randi shrugged and appealed to the others, though without her usual air of I am right and the rest of you are shit. Never mind the performance, it was still the same old baloney. She’s holding all of us back. She doesn’t belong.

Maddy held up her hands in a sharp motion. She caught Wallace’s eye and there was a thousand years of understanding there. Wallace might not be much of a witch, but there were things she had in common with Maddy that nobody else did. Stop it. Right now.

Palla leaned against the counter nearest to him and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a five o’clock shadow going, probably for show given what he was, and he looked scary as hell. Not for show. He nodded at Wallace. She dead drop you?

Whatever that means. Nothing good, that was for sure.

Did she cut off your magic? He had a deep voice, not a trace of accent. Pure white California. Someone in the back of the crowd laughed. That was directed at her since Wallace didn’t have much magic to cut off.

No, sir. She hated herself for that. Calling him sir. Years spent on the streets and in and out of various shelters had drilled into her the safety of showing respect to someone in authority. Especially if he was a white guy. Palla, like Maddy, had a hell of a lot of authority, and he sure as hell looked Caucasian. No, sir, she did not.

He gave her one of his patented fuck you, bitch glares. She didn’t take it personally. Palla was an equal opportunity hater. If you were human, he hated you. Did you dead drop her?

Randi whirled on Palla. She absolutely did not.

That’s enough. Maddy Winters had a