The Colbana Files: Boxed Set Books 1-3

By J.C. Daniels

Bladed Magic: A Colbana Files Prequel

For the first time in her life, Kit Colbana’s life was going just fine. Then she finds herself tangled up with a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’s looking for somebody and for some bizarre reason, he seems to think she can help. All she has to do is say no, and she can go back to her safe little existence. That’s exactly what she needs to do and she knows it.

Too bad she’s not very good at following her own advice.

Book 1: Blade Song

Kit Colbana—half breed, assassin, thief, jack of all trades—has a new job: track down the missing ward of one of the local alpha shapeshifters. It should be a piece of cake.

So why is she so nervous? It probably has something to do with the insanity that happens when you deal with shifters—especially sexy ones who come bearing promises of easy jobs and easier money.

Or maybe it’s all the other missing kids that Kit discovers while working the case, or the way her gut keeps screaming she’s gotten in over her head. Or maybe it’s because if she fails—she’s dead.

Book 2: Night Blade

Kit Colbana has a knack for finding trouble. This time, though, trouble finds her.

People on the Council are dying left and right and she’s been requested to investigate the deaths. The number one suspect? Her lover, Damon. If she doesn’t clear his name, he gets a death sentence. Even if she succeeds? They still might try to execute him. Oh, and she’s not allowed to tell him about the case, either.

The stakes are higher than they’ve ever been. Kit may be forced to pay the ultimate price to save her lover’s life...a price that could destroy her and everything she loves.

Book 3: Broken Blade

Kit Colbana: assassin, thief, investigator extraordinaire. Now broken. Haunted by nightmares and stripped of her identity, she’s retreated to Wolf Haven, the no-man’s land where she found refuge years before. But while she might want to hide away from the rest of the world, the rest of the world isn’t taking the hint.

Dragged kicking and screaming back into life, Kit is thrust head-first into an investigation surrounding the theft of an ancient relic...one that she wants nothing to do with.

Forced to face her nightmares, she uncovers hidden strength and comes face to face with one of the world’s original monsters. If she survives the job, she won’t be the same...and neither will those closest to her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shiloh Walker
• Release date: Jan 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311109316

J.C. Daniels

J.C. Daniels exploded in being in May of 2012. She’s the pen name of author Shiloh Walker and was created basically because Shiloh writes like a hyperactive bunny and an intervention was necessary. J.C. is the intervention. The name... J.C. Daniels is a play off of the three people who pretty much run Shiloh’s life.About us both...Shiloh Walker/J.C. Daniels...Shiloh has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more...ah...serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing just about every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and paranormal romance, among other things.

Book preview

I knew you were in there somewhere.

What in the hell are you talking about? I stared at him, uneasiness creeping through me. My hand started to heat. In the back of my mind, I heard a soothing murmur. My sword, whispering to me. All is well, child…all is well. I am here…

A weird refrain for her. I was more used to the words… Call me, I am here. She came to my call when I needed her, something I’d learned when I’d been trapped in the dirt, gasping for air and begging for an escape that I knew didn’t exist.

Except it had.

But she didn’t seem to think I needed her.

Maybe I didn’t. This peacock was annoying, but I didn’t think he was dangerous. Not to me at least.

A queer smile lit his eyes and he just continued to watch me. I knew something was under all those nerves you wear like a second skin. You ready to come out and play or not?

Play?

You think this is a game? I curled a hand into a fist. Surprise ricocheted through me as I realized something—I wanted to punch him. Arrogant, cocky piece of work.

No. It’s not a game—it’s a hunt and you want in on it as much as I do.

He was right. I knew it. Not that I’d tell him but he was right. And I still wanted to punch him.

Something of that must have shown on my face because he laughed. Quick as a wish, he reached out and cupped my chin. Something hot shivered through my veins as his thumb pressed against my lips. Keep that thought, Kitty-kitty. You and I can go a round after we catch this son of a bitch.

I curled my lip at him, jerking out of his reach. I’m starting to think I’d rather not mess with you. Maybe I should try to do it all by myself.

Oh, really? He cocked his head, green eyes all but laughing at me.

BLADED MAGIC

A Kit Colbana Short Story

J.C. Daniels

The events of this short story take place after A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and before BLADE SONG

Copyright 2014 Shiloh Walker

Cover Art by Angela Waters

Editorial Work Sara Reinke

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.

Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it’s stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support is what makes it possible for authors to continue to provide the stories you enjoy.

Chapter One

So, who wants to talk and who wants to die?

The voice coming from the alley behind TJ’s was cheerful, just a little too cheerful, considering the grim message in his words. It was a little scary, though, because that cheer was not false. Whoever he was, he was all too excited about the thought of making somebody talk, then bleed, then die.

In that order.

I could smell the blood in the air and it wasn’t shapeshifter blood. I knew that smell all too well, but that was just because I worked in a bar where blood was spilled. A lot. Shapeshifters liked to fight, after all, and those fights led to bloodshed. Lucky me, I got to clean it up.

Go inside. That was the voice of common sense.

I was done working. Nothing for me to do, really. I never did anything, other than work. Well, other than lock myself in my room and read. Or lock myself in the little gym TJ had let me set up and work out. I could do either one of those and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

This one night, I’d felt an odd little pull, something that had tugged me out of the bar. Go back inside, I told myself.

Something sizzled in the air and I felt it dance across my skin.

Then there was a yell, followed by a grunt and a series of thuds.

It was getting really hard to pretend this wasn’t happening. If I went back inside and acted like I hadn’t noticed anything, I’d have a hard time facing myself in the morning.

My inability to mind my own business will be the death of me. Here lies Kit Colbana, killed by her own curiosity. That will be my epitaph. Still, I couldn’t stay there, shifting from one foot to the other while I listened to somebody getting the hell beaten out of them.

Keeping to the shadows, I moved down the maze of twisting, narrow little paths and paused when I reached the junction up ahead. It was there. Just ahead and to the right. The smell of blood was stronger and I could hear somebody laughing. It was the man I’d heard earlier—

Oh, come on, you can do better than that…

His voice sounded thick now. Not quite so eager to make something talk, then bleed, then die.

Of course, he was the one talking, in a voice that was thick and wet. He was bleeding, too. I could see that when I peered around the corner. There he was, caught between two wolves—shapeshifters—while a third drew back a hand and slammed it into his gut.

He crumpled around the fist.

Who are you working for? A new voice now, somebody big and mean. He drove another fist into the man’s gut as he spoke. I raked him with a look, sized him up. A werewolf.

The entire tableau was surreal. There were three weres, the one doing the pummeling, while the other two held a brown-haired man immobile.

One more time, you little fuck. The were smashed a giant fist into the man’s face and I winced as blood splattered out in an arcing spray. Who are you working for?

There was no answer, just a nasal sort of groan.

The werewolf in front of him fisted a hand in the man’s hair and jerked his head up, leaning in to snarl at the man. He looked…human. I didn’t feel that weird kind of energy I sensed around all shifters, which meant if this kept up, he’d be dead.

Nervous, I glanced behind me. Could I get back to the bar and Goliath?

I didn’t know.

Sliding a hand inside my vest, I touched one of the silver knives.

Come on, witch. You aren’t down here asking about night just because you want to. The wolf reached up, caught the man’s face, started to squeeze.

Horrified, I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I couldn’t look away as I watched those fingers dig in. I knew how strong shifters were. They could crush bone, stone, metal.

The man groaned hoarsely.

Shit. I can’t watch this. I had to do something—had to help.

Abruptly, it was like the fight drained out of him.

There. That’s what I thought. The wolf backed up and now, all I could see was his back. Give me the name, boy. You don’t want me telling TJ you been running around behind her back and fucking her over, do you? Selling drugs to kids, skimming her profits?

What?

Did you hear that? One of the other wolves looked up, eyes narrowing.

Oh. Shit.

I’d bumped something on the ground. It wouldn’t have been loud enough for anybody human to hear.

But we weren’t dealing with humans. The NH—non-human—population had sharper senses and I had all but shouted my presence.

Sounds like…

I gripped the knife and shot a look once more toward TJ’s. If I ran, they’d catch me. If I called for Goliath, he’d hear me, but probably not in time.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

I should have gone to my room and finished my damn book.

A shadow stretched out along the ground in front of me—so close.

Instinct moved me and I lunged out, threw the knife.

I hadn’t taken out a target since the night in the sewers, but I never once doubted my aim.

I am aneira—

The words echoed in the back of my mind. I’d heard them, so often, in the years before I’d run away. Time seemed to slow.

My aim is true.

And it was. The blade flew, straight and true and so very fast. So fast the shifter didn’t even have time to avoid it. The silver buried itself in the shifter’s heart. Without waiting to see what happened, I lunged at him and as he hit the ground, I wrenched the knife around, twisting it. The scent of smoke filled the air. I didn’t waste another second. I came up and dove forward in a somersault. I landed in a crouch as I faced the other two shapeshifters.

The man pinned to the wall looked at me with greener than green eyes. To my surprise, he grinned. It’s about fucking time.

My jaw fell open and then there was no time for anything else. The other shifter lunged for me and I fumbled with my knife.

Teeth closed around my arm but I still got it up, shoving it into his gut. He howled as silver met skin. I swallowed down a scream, struggling to think past the pain. I knew how to do that—those lessons had been drilled into me back before I even understood what pain really was. Whipping my blade out, I drove it in, then jerked up while he continued to gnaw at me like a dog with a bone. And I felt like a bone—a broken one as his jaws managed to clamp down until the bones in my forearm shattered.

I fought the blackness back. Can’t…

Something brilliant and white exploded around us and then the weight of his body was gone from me.

A face appeared in my vision.

The man they’d been beating—

His eyes were a vivid wicked green and despite the bruises on his face, he was grinning.

You did pretty good. Then he cocked his head. Took you a while, though.

Struggling to think past the nauseating pain in my arm, I just stared at him while he hauled me to my feet. Everything around me was spinning.

My arm bumped up against him and I bit back a scream. Shit, he said. You did a number on your arm.

Don’t look, don’t look…

I couldn’t help it.

I looked. My arm didn’t look like anything so much as meat.

Bits of bone jutted out and flesh hung in strips.

I don’t know if it was the pain from my arm or the pain in my head, but in the next moment, I was bent over and puking my guts up.

* * * * *

For one moment only, I let myself lay there, taking stock. I knew where I was. TJ and Goliath had come a-running. Well, Goliath had run. TJ had maneuvered her way up over the uneven ground in her chair and her eyes had glittered with menace as she looked at us.

Then I was unceremoniously taken back to TJ’s, back to my room.

Consciousness was stolen away after TJ forced a healing tonic on me. I’d preferred the quiet of that darkness to the noise going on around me now.

—hired you to find that cocksucker, not get one of my girls beat up, you idiot witch!

TJ. I knew that voice. Okay. If TJ was around—and pissed-off—that meant things weren’t too bad. Except my arm still screamed at me. Damn. That tonic hadn’t kept me under long enough to do any good.

Hey, look. I got the job done. I found the cocksucker and he’s not going to be going around selling cheap drugs and claiming you knew about it, a voice said. That voice—

I jerked upright, sucking in harsh, deep breaths as I looked around. That voice was familiar. I didn’t like that voice. I couldn’t remember why—

Two people were staring at me.

TJ—the werewolf who’d taken me in a few years ago—was one of them.

The other one was the witch I’d seen getting the shit beaten out of him. The bruising was fading from his face and his green eyes looked even greener. Now, those green eyes dipped down and a smile spread across his face. Something about it made me look down and I felt a blush heat my face as I realized my tits were bared for all the world to see.

Justin, quit thinking with your dick, TJ snapped, tossing a shirt at me before wheeling her way over to my side. Her gaze was hard as she stared at me. Colleen is coming over to deal with your arm. I ought to let you be miserable with it, though.

Hey, I was just trying to help. I tried to figure out the best way to get the shirt on and in the end, dealt with the indignity of letting TJ help me.

Years before I’d met her, TJ had been wounded—badly—by her Alpha. She’d told me that she’d tried to escape the insane son of a bitch and when he’d caught her, he’d punished her by amputating her legs. A werewolf can heal from that, but she’d never had the chance. A witch had forced a healing on her in that very state, leaving her legs nothing but stumps. She’d never run as a wolf should run. But she’d carved out her own territory down here in Florida and her word was law.

Of course, this Justin, whoever he was, didn’t look too fazed by her. He continued to watch me, that heated grin still on his face as I finished wiggling around to get the shirt in place, holding back the whimpers more than once as I jarred my arm. Colleen couldn’t get here fast enough. She was a witch who knew how to heal and while some innate part of me rejected needing help from anybody, I couldn’t be handicapped with a busted arm, either.

Feeling the weight of that watchful gaze, I slid the man another look. His eyes were intent as I finished buttoning up the shirt one-handed. The way you act, you’d think you’ve never seen a woman’s breasts before, I muttered.

Oh, I’ve seen breasts before. That grin widened. That doesn’t mean I’m fool enough to pass up the opportunity to admire them any chance I get.

Since there was no safe answer to that, I just ignored him. Anybody want to fill me in on what’s going on?

Next to me, TJ sighed.

The witch opened his mouth.

Shut it, Justin.

Justin. I flicked him a look, a longer one this time. He was still smiling, a sly one that suited his pretty features. And he was pretty, even under those fading bruises.

Justin’s a freelance witch, TJ said, drawing my attention back to her. I’ve been having…issues. Somebody is running drugs through here and claiming ties to me.

I wrinkled my nose. That’s bullshit. You aren’t into drugs.

Only because it’s not worth the hassle. She shrugged and looked away. And… there are sometimes unwanted complications. But this is different. This shit’s been laced with silver and it killed two dumbass wolves up in Orlando. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it because anybody stupid enough to mess with night—

Night? I’d heard that phrase, several times now. Somehow I didn’t think she meant the opposite of day.

She lifted a brow. "It’s a narcotic for shifters. Regular drugs don’t affect us. Metabolism throws it off. That’s why our alcohol content has to be higher in order for us to even get a hint of a buzz and why I told you it’s off limits for you. It would put you on your skinny ass—if you’re lucky. Anyway, Night is a narcotic for shifters. This stuff is poison, though. It’s tainted and whoever is selling it knows it and doesn’t care. One of the wolves that got a bad dose was fifteen. He’s still in a coma. His body can’t throw off the silver and he took so much in, he stopped breathing for a while. He might wake up. He might not."

I closed my eyes. Kids. They are selling it to kids.

Somebody is. Her voice was grim. So that’s why Justin is here. Banner won’t get involved unless it affects humans and I don’t want to mess with the Assembly.

What a surprise. TJ wouldn’t touch the Assembly—the governing force for the non-humans—with a ten foot pole. I flicked the witch a measuring gaze. So you looked for outside help.

I’m good at what I do. He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants and cocked his head at me, studying me in a way that made me want to squirm. You handle yourself pretty nice out there. You ever think of—

No. I clambered out of the bed, belatedly noticing I was also missing pants. The shirt hid enough of me that I was decently covered but I still felt exposed. Heading to the closet, I pulled it open and grabbed a pair of black jeans before I turned around.

Both of them watched me. You sure about that? Justin asked.

Why wouldn’t I be?

He lifted a shoulder, the movement graceful, lazy. But the gleam in his eyes had me gritting my teeth. Well, you look like a little bit of nothing. But you went after a rat pack and helped bring them down. There’s gotta be something to you.

The rat pack. Yeah, thanks for mentioning them. I fought the urge to flip him off as a chill raced down my spine. The rat pack was something I tried not to think about. I didn’t want to remember any of it. The rats, the vampire who’d ended up helping me…Mandy.

This little bit of nothing already has a job. One that doesn’t involve getting bloodied.

Yeah. You work in a bar and serve up beers. Must be fascinating. His dry tone grated on my skin like sandpaper.

I curled my lip at him and then disappeared into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind me. Then I just stood there, my broken arm bound to my chest.

He’d leave.

Then I could go back to my nice, boring existence.

Chapter Two

Nice boring existence.

That was the plan.

I liked working at TJ’s. Working the bar was easy. I was safe here, I made decent money and money was nice. I could buy clothes and I had more clothes than I actually needed. I could buy lotion and soaps and I had way more of those than I needed. Sometimes, I spent an hour in the tub, just playing with the suds. That might sound crazy, but up until I’d landed at TJ’s, it was a luxury I’d never imagined. Up until I’d managed to escape the hell that had been my life, I’d lived in rags, my skin perpetually dirty. Having lots of clothes, even just the jeans and T-shirts I lived in was a nice thing. A very nice thing. Having soaps and lotions that smelled like a small slice of heaven was even better, especially since TJ had introduced to me to a herb witch she knew who was able to mix them up custom—nothing too overpowering for my sensitive nose—or TJ’s—but still enough to make me feel…girly.

This was where I belonged. Where I felt safe.

But two days later, I had to keep reminding myself of that. I felt like I was going to come out of my skin.

Something wasn’t right.

I’d felt like this before and it wasn’t just that night I’d gone out and found that irritating witch outside.

Months ago, I’d woken up, too restless to sleep, too energized to eat. Off kilter for half the day, then a woman had called. Her name was Colleen and we had a history dating back to my earliest days in Orlando.

Many of our first encounters involved TJ and they started off with comments like, Let her look at you, kid, or I’ll sit on you. Or If you don’t sit still, I’ll just hold you down and she can do this without the tonic. You like crying like a baby? No? So shut up so she can fix you.

I can still remember the first time the conversation had gone like that. She’d glared at Colleen. You really think threats are going to make her trust you more?

That wasn’t the beginning of our friendship. I didn’t trust people that easily. But I’d known her for years and when she’d called me, I’d managed to stop my pacing long enough to take the call.

Mandy…she’s missing.

I didn’t know why she’d called me, but she insisted she knew I could help.

So I’d tried, thinking the woman had lost her mind.

I’d tried. And to my shock, I’d succeeded.

But the phone wasn’t ringing and I didn’t really want to sit around and wait for another call, or some idiot witch to get whaled on, either.

If I could, I’d go running, take my weapons to the gym downstairs and try to practice, anything to burn off this energy if I thought it would help. Except I was in the middle of my shift. I tightened my hand on the smooth surface of the bar, set my jaw and tried to think through the adrenaline crashing in my head.

A hand brushed across mine.

Instinctively, I drew back, dropping my hand to the silver blade I wore strapped to my thigh. Yes? I asked, my voice calm, while everything else inside me chittered with energy, anxiety and nerves.

A wolf—shapeshifter, werewolf, whatever you want to call his kind—smiled at me. I like TJ’s choice in help these days. His lids drooped while his nostrils flared. You smell like…

You don’t want to finish that. TJ’s low, rough voice filled the room. Kit, tell him what he owes so he can pay up and get out.

The wolf looked at me a moment longer, and then slid a smile toward TJ. Ah, come on, TJ. I don’t mean anything by it. If she’s going to work here, she oughta…

A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Goliath, a mountain of a man who watched the door and TJ and everything else that went on in here, stood at the wolf’s back. You don’t want to argue, do you, Rogers?

Something uncomfortable crept up my back as the two shapeshifters standing in front of me began to bleed off that awful power some of them carried inside them. It was a mark of their strength and it both terrified and fascinated. Part of me wanted to just run out of the room. The bigger part of me was irritated. I’d dealt with worse than this and here I was, still standing. The reason Colleen had ended up having to heal me that first time was because I’d gotten into a fight—of the bloody and final kind—with a newly changed werewolf. I hadn’t known he was already on TJ’s watchlist until later, but that still didn’t change the fact that I’d been the one to walk away.

Taking a step forward, I met the wolf’s eyes. I want to hear this, I said, challenge threading into my voice. Just what do I smell like?

Filthy pig—the whisper rose from the back of my mind and I steeled myself. Nothing he said could really be any worse than having my grandmother, cousins, aunts tell me that I was little more than a pile of offal, right?

Kit… TJ’s voice was soft.

It still slashed into me and I whipped my head around, staring at her. I’m the one he’s messing with. I figure I got a right to know what he’s getting at. Then I looked back at him. Leaning in, I stared. So. Tell me.

Gold flared in his eyes and he smiled, a smile that was predatory, mean. Hungry.

It sent a chill down my spine.

You smell… He closed his eyes and breathed in again. You smell like food. And sex. You’d probably be really good…for both.

Blood rushed to my face. Heat flared in my hand, something that had nothing to do with embarrassment, though, and everything to do with nerves and fear. Something whispered in the back of mind, but I ignored it.

That’s even better.

Easing forward, I brushed my hand against the silver-plated Louisville Slugger under the bar. It rested on two hooks and I knew just how it felt in my hands. Really? Narrowing my eyes, I cocked my head. Come closer and see what you smell.

That’s enough, TJ said, her voice throbbing, a snarl beating under it.

You going to be there at my back for the rest of my life, TJ? I demanded, not taking my eyes from the smirking wolf in front of me.

I don’t know what drove me. Maybe it was the recklessness that felt like it lined my blood vessels all day. Maybe it was the way his smile widened and now, it looked decidedly wolfish.

You’ll still smell like meat. His lids drooped. And sex.

Goliath’s hand, to my shock, fell away from his shoulder.

You won’t say that in a few seconds.

He laughed. A split second later, he lunged.

I’d been forced onto the training fields when I was just a child. I was twenty now and I’d been carrying a blade for so long, weapons almost felt like a part of me. I was no stranger to pain, either. I’d had my arm shattered, my collar bone busted, the skin of my back laid open to the bone.

From the time I was a child, I’d been tortured, beaten down, all but broken. The sound of her voice was a whisper in my blood even now. Useless waste…so weak. So pathetic.

Time slowed to a crawl, even though I knew it was all in my head.

I already had the bat in my hand and I was moving, swinging as he cleared the bar. It connected with his head, a resounding thud I felt all the way up my arms. I moved again as he went down, this time bringing the deadly metal down on the back of his head, hearing the solid crack of bone.

Heat flared in my hand.

The voice in the back of my head now wasn’t that ugly whisper, but a joyous, gleeful song. Call me!

I let her come. A length of silver gleamed in my hand a moment later. Once, the sword had belonged to my mother and now she came to my call. I danced back, hurling the bat down as I settled myself into position, my sword up and ready.

Seconds passed and I waited.

The wolf wasn’t old, but he wasn’t weak, either.

Within a minute, he was on his feet, wobbling a little and his eyes were unfocused. Blood and other things stained his hair while fury blistered his features.

You… he rasped, his voice thick.

Do I still smell like meat and sex?

You smell like something dead, he growled. You just don’t know it.

Blah, blah. I braced myself as he lunged at me. One slice of the sword had him howling and leaping back in shock.

Weres weren’t used to dealing with weapons, a fact I’d learned a long time ago. They fought with claw and tooth and brute force, things I didn’t possess, and never would. They knew the danger, but they never expected somebody like me to be fast enough.

The shock of silver, something poisonous to his kind, hit him with blazing pain. I bet. A few seconds passed and then, as I saw his muscles tensing, I leaped up onto the bar. Never let the opponent get the high ground. One of those lessons beaten into me.

A hand with nails going black swiped out at me and I jumped out of the way just in time.

Behind me, somebody muttered, but I didn’t look away from the wolf in front of me.

Distraction could be deadly.

This time, when he came at me, he was focused on nothing but me, no taunts, no jibes—he wanted my blood and nothing else. I flipped away, twisting my body mid-air so that I landed facing him. I heard wood screeching and realized people were pushing furniture out of the way.

He was only a few feet away now and was starting to lose control of his human form. Fuck. As he drew closer, I held my ground and shoved my left arm up, blocking him as he lunged for my throat. The other hand held my blade and that, I drove deep, deep into his gut.

It wasn’t exactly the recommended technique, but it had the desired outcome.

His shift stopped and his body locked up in complete, utter shock, frozen by the silver in my blade. As he went to his knees, I held still, not letting myself give into the urge to drag my sword up and wrench it until I’d destroyed more internal organs, driving him further into the anaphylactic shock that would further injure his system. If I did that, he’d have no chance to stop me. I could then pull out the blade, decapitate him.

My training demanded I do just that.

Everything else shouted, No.

Hot blood spilled out all over my hand.

It smelled of wolf. It smelled of smoke.

What do you smell now? I asked.

He shuddered, wracked by the pain of the silver in him. He’d heal, slow. If he was older, stronger, he’d be able to fight through it and I’d be toast, but I’d gauged him the minute he came through the door. It was a weird knack I had. He would never be alpha-level and he was maybe ten years older than me. Not strong enough to fight past the damage I’d done to him.

The gold continued to swirl in his eyes.

That’s enough, TJ said, her voice flat.

I wasn’t moving a fucking step until he did.

Goliath settled it by leaping over the bar—just straight up and over like a marionette on a string—and clamping one massive hand over Rogers’ neck, pulling him carelessly off the blade I’d skewered him with. You heard the boss. It’s done.

He stumbled back, crashing into the bar hard enough to send some of the glasses stacked crashing to the floor. Hate gleamed in his eyes. I smiled at him while blood dripped from my fingers. His blood stained my right hand. My blood stained my left hand and arm and fire from his bite ate at me. I was going to have to call Colleen. Again. Second healing in just as many weeks. The last one had been free. This wouldn’t be. Just wasn’t fair to expect that much of a witch, even a friend.

You won’t be smiling when that virus eats you. You’ll change or you’ll die. And if you change… He rasped, his eyes still that golden shade of wolf. We do this again. I’ll show you what happens to the weak and stupid.

No. I shrugged as another fat drop of blood rolled down my fingers and plopped to the floor. I can’t be changed. Sorry about that.

A growl trickled through the room and TJ rolled her chair closer. In her hand, she held a crossbow, the bolt in it tipped with silver. Her eyes gleamed yellow-gold as well and when she smiled, her teeth looked far sharper than normal.

I’ll show you what happens to the weak and stupid if you show up here and threaten my staff again, she promised. Now…get out. You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight. Goliath will watch over you for the next few minutes while you heal enough to walk home.

Goliath practically dragged his bloody ass out of there. Once they were gone, it was like somebody popped a bubble and people started to breathe, started to talk.

I glanced at TJ. That gleam in her eyes hadn’t faded. And now she was glaring at me.

Well, shit.

* * * * *

If you think I’m going to let you come between me and everybody that snarls at me, then we got a problem, I said shortly as I fought to wrap a bandage of snowy white around my arm.

TJ sat in her chair on the far side of the back room, her eyes still flickering between gold and their normal brown. That wolf could have torn you apart.

Pausing in the middle of my shoddy first aid attempts, I lifted my head. Yeah? Then how come I had him on the floor before he so much as touched me?

You were lucky.

No. I was making a point. And everybody out there had seen it, too. I felt more than a little satisfaction over that. But my smug grin faded as I lifted my head to look at TJ. I set my jaw. "I could have killed him. All I had to do was call my blade and I could have taken his head the second he came at me. I didn’t."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, a scowl darkening her brow. After twenty seconds, she blew out a breath and then spun her chair around to stare outside. It might have been better if you’d done just that, Kit.

I’m not a killer.

You might well have to become one after this. Her hand brushed the curtain aside and moonlight streamed in, gilding her face with silver. "You still don’t get this world. Fuck. Just where did you come from that you think you can taunt wolves like that and not realize they’ll want blood back?"

Something hollow settled in my gut. Finishing the makeshift bandage on my arm, I settled on the floor in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t cold. It was November, but the temperatures in Wolf Haven, Florida—formerly Winter Haven—hadn’t yet dropped below sixty degrees. I felt chilled, though. You don’t want to know where I came from, TJ.

Even if she did, I wouldn’t tell her.

I get the idea that it wasn’t fun, she said, her voice almost as hollow as I felt. "I’ve seen the scars on you. And I know what a girl looks like when she’s running away. More to the point, I know for a fucking fact that you’re lost about how our world works. You need to figure it out, and fast, because you’re in for a rude awakening. That wolf isn’t going to walk away from this."

Sliding her a look, I saw that she’d soundlessly turned to look at me.

He’ll come after you. Again. He’ll watch. He’ll wait. First to see if you die. Then to see if you change. When neither happens, he’ll try to kill you again. Can you handle that?

I didn’t doubt her words, even though I hadn’t realized this would happen. Whatever happened to getting your ass kicked and just walking away? Or hiding…that’s what I’d had to do most of my life. Get my ass kicked, my ass whipped, then slink away, heal. Have it done all over again.

The world of shifters was unlike any other world I’d known though.

No, I said quietly. I can’t handle him trying to kill me. I’d lived through that more than a couple of times already. I guess that means I’ll just have to kill him first.

When TJ didn’t answer, I turned my head to see her watching me. Now, she had a faint, but satisfied smile on her face.

Don’t look so happy about it.

She shrugged. If you’re going to pick fights with furry people, you gotta be prepared to see them all the way through, Kit.

Some of what I felt must have shown on my face because her face softened with something that might have been sympathy. We don’t live in a soft world, kid. As much as I hate to say it, and as clichéd as it sounds, sometimes it comes down to this…it’s kill or be killed. You’ve already had to bloody your hands. You’re not as strong as everybody else and most of them out there aren’t going to pick fights with you. But when those fights end up on your doorstep, or if you go and pick a fight like you did tonight… She leaned forward, her gaze holding mine. "Finish it."

Colleen arrived almost two hours later. Adrenaline was still riding high, probably to combat the pain that had yet to fade. The fever was burning hot, too. I couldn’t turn were, but that didn’t mean my body liked the virus currently tearing through my blood.

As I told her how my arm had gotten torn to hell—again—her face was folded into tight lines.

The good news, I figure I’ll settle down once you finish with my arm, I said in overly bright tones.

Colleen paused in the process of wrapping a poultice around my bruised, torn and bloody flesh. The bleeding had started anew once she’d torn, peeled or cut away the bandage. Settle down?

Yeah. I made a face. I’ve been edgy all day. I get that way sometimes.

A troubled look came across her face. Edgy how?

I don’t know. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, except I never saw the first one. If that makes sense. Where did that saying come from anyway? I looked away as she took a pair of what looked like oversize tweezers to an area on my forearm, pulling something out of the flesh that she’d missed earlier. Then she continued the process of wrapping me up.

I don’t know and quit changing the subject. How often do you feel like that?

I went to shrug and then stopped. Colleen made me sit through these Q&A sessions a lot, and had for the past year or so. Some people thought I was some sort of weird witch offshoot—the name they applied to the non-humans in our world who weren’t witch or were. Sometimes you’d see a weird mutation of the races that interbred, and there were other non-human races in the world besides witch, were and vamp, although those were the dominant ones.

People assumed I was either an offshoot or a weak witch.

Colleen knew better. I wasn’t a witch. I wasn’t an offshoot. I was one of the rarer races that few people knew about. Even fewer understood my kind. I didn’t understand my kind, but then again, none of them had ever seen fit to teach me anything that didn’t involve some sort of physical pain.

Oh, you’ve dropped your guard—

I cut that memory off before I could let it go any farther. The nightmares were bad enough. If I let them continue to plague my waking hours, I might as well go back to hiding in my room the way I had the first few months I’d been here. Or just hit the road again, running from every sound, every shadow.

Sighing, I met Colleen’s eyes. "I don’t know why you keep trying to figure me out. I don’t care."

You should, she said, her voice soft. One of these days, you might need to know. Now come on. How often?

Not very. Every now and then.

Name a time.

Swallowing, I averted my gaze. I don’t think you want to know.

Kit…

Blowing out a breath, I met her gaze. The day you called about your daughter.

She went white, her mouth tightening. Then, slowly, she nodded. So that ended up…interesting for you. Something glittered in her eyes and then she focused on my arm again. Another time.

Hell. What is this? Twenty questions? Remember that girl who TJ tried to help a year ago? Weird were-mix? Part wolf and part…something else. I’d never been able to puzzle that one out, and sadly, she was too dead now for me to ask.

Cari. Colleen lifted her brows. She’s the one who had some fucked-up family members come looking for her.

They found her, I said softly. I’d told TJ. The men and women who’d come through TJ’s doors had been looking for trouble, and a lot of it. TJ was more than willing to dish it out. I wasn’t quite so ready for it, but I’d settled myself in the corner with a gun. Not my favorite weapon, but if I had to deal with weres of questionable sanity, I’d go for something with serious stopping power.

But Cari had decided to leave with them.

TJ had said she didn’t have to.

Cari had almost taken the lifeline TJ had given. Almost.

Instead, she’d followed them out the door and it wasn’t until we heard Goliath’s roar shaking the very foundations of the building that we’d raced outside. They’d seen that slight hesitation, and now Cari lay face-first on the concrete, her father slamming her into the concrete so hard, it busted underneath the force of the blows.

Goliath had lunged himself forward and had already taken down six of the weird were-things. They resembled something between a bat and a wolf, misshapen and awkward, with too large heads and limbs that were too long for their bodies. But they were strong and once they saw the danger—Goliath—they’d thrown themselves at him with a fury.

If we’d gotten to her sooner, we might have been able to save her.

But by the time Goliath cut down the stronger ones and TJ and I dealt with the weaker ones with either silver bullets or silver-tipped bolts, the father had come out of whatever fury had possessed them. Holding Cari’s head in his hands, he’d simply wrenched it off her shoulders.

For months, I’d seen that every time I closed my eyes.

Every time it happens, it’s because some sort of trouble is brewing, Colleen murmured.

The trouble already brewed. My cup of trouble runneth over, even. If life was fair, I’d never deal with any more trouble again. Sadly, life wasn’t fair. Very often, life just sucked. She laid her hands on my arm and I took a deep breath, braced myself.

This will hurt, she warned.

No shit.

I managed not to scream. Barely.

Chapter Three

Ever heard the phrase like a dog with a bone?

That describes Colleen.

It was nearly an hour later, down in the bar, and she was still going at me.

I had my hand wrapped around a highball, two fingers of whiskey—nothing near as potent as what TJ served her regulars, but stronger than what humans drank. Colleen was at my side, leaning in, her voice low as she asked, So when is it the worst? When you act or when you do nothing?

What? I asked, tired. Pressing the glass to my forehead, I tried to ignore the headache pounding at the back of my skull. Heavy healings could do that. Toss booze on top and I was going to feel like shit in the morning, but I was hoping the alcohol would slow the racing in my mind.

My skin still crawled.

I still felt like something in the air was whispering…get ready, get ready…

This weird feeling you get. When is it the worst? When does it fade the quickest?

Popping one eye open, I stared at her. She had a pretty face, milk-pale skin, green eyes, red hair. Irish to the bone and beautiful with it. As gentle as she looked, she was stubborn as hell. I guess that came with being Irish, too. You’re not going to shut up about this, are you?

Nope. She smiled sunnily at me. We’re still trying to understand everything you are, remember? Nothing much in the Assembly database about you and all.

She kept her voice down, but I still winced and skimmed a quick look around.

Nobody seemed to notice.

Fine. Huffing out a breath, I thought back. "The day I went after Mandy. Once I was actually doing something, all my energy focused on the doing."

Like you were supposed to be doing just that. Her gaze went thoughtful, not sad the way I would have expected when I said her lost child’s name. You think it would have passed easier if you’d tried to help with Cari?

I did. The words slipped out of me, soft and reluctant. I went to follow her outside, telling TJ the girl shouldn’t leave. But she said it wasn’t up to us. I could almost see the death on her. Once I got outside, I thought I could stop it…but we were too late. I shrugged and tried to brush it off. After that, TJ had wards put up around the place. You know, you helped make them. But that’s what brought it on. If people want in here, they have to really want it. It’s the hardest on strangers. People she knows can come and go almost easily, but if you don’t know TJ, you’re shit out of luck.

Like Cari’s family. She nodded and went silent. After a few moments, she said, It’s your instincts.

I’d spent those moments tending to my whiskey, and I’d tended it well. So well that I needed a refill. But before I caught Mac’s eyes—he handled the night shift—I glanced at Colleen. What do you mean?

"It’s part of you, I think. Something burned in her eyes. It’s what you are. You’re supposed to be acting. You are guided by those instincts, Kit. I’ve seen it a hundred times. And I—"

She stopped, frowning. Then she groaned and looked around. Why is he…

The wards on the door sparked, hard and bright green.

Hell.

I scowled and looked up just in time to see a familiar man saunter through the door. He passed through the wards like they were made of gossamer and fluff. That meant only one thing—he was either stronger than the wards, or he’d helped craft them.

Considering how strong he’d felt, I figure I knew which it was.

That odd, itching sensation I’d felt all day started to get stronger as he shifted his gaze to me. Those startling green eyes focused on mine and he grinned.

Well, well, well. Just who I was looking for. Got a minute, Kitty-kitty? Justin asked.

I almost fell off my stool. Kitty-kitty?

He smiled, but it was a cold smile, sharp enough to cut. He came closer and as he did, the currents of air moved and I caught it, the scent of blood. I need to talk to you.

Behind me, I heard the door open, heard the familiar sound of TJ’s chair. Back off, Justin. Last time you two talked, there was trouble.

There’s still trouble, he said, not taking his eyes off me.

My heart had started to pump, slow and heavy against my ribs. And that weird sensing of waiting had sharpened down, clarified. This, a voice whispered in my ear. It’s this. It’s him.

Part of me wanted to scream what, what, what?

But I’d have that answer soon enough.

Justin, if you don’t get out of my bar, I’ll have you dragged out by your—

TJ. I didn’t look at her, didn’t take my eyes off Justin’s face. I’ll talk to him.

I don’t know who was more surprised. Her or me.

All I knew was that some knot inside me relaxed.

This…it’s this.

That sense of waiting shifted and transformed. Get ready. Get ready.

I’d felt it before. The day I went hunting…for a scared, foolish girl who’d almost gotten herself killed.

We ended up in TJ’s office. It was the only place we were guaranteed privacy, other than my bedroom upstairs and I was definitely not inviting him up there.

There was a condition, of course. There were always conditions. Especially with TJ. If we used her office, that meant she got to come along for the ride. She’d wheeled herself inside, along with Colleen. I didn’t bother arguing, although Justin looked like he wanted to. There wasn’t much point. Unless he knew how to circumvent TJ’s security system, she’d have a birds-eye view of what was going on in here, anyway.

Once the door shut, I looked at him. You smell like blood.

So do you. He lifted a brow. I wouldn’t have figured you for having that sensitive of a nose.

Why not? You do.

Hmmm. But I’m a witch. It comes in useful.

Angling my head, I studied Colleen. You smell it?

No. Thank God. Then she shrugged. But Justin is a different kind of witch.

A different kind of witch. There were different kinds of witches? I hadn’t known that. Running my tongue across the inside of my lip, I pondered that. Through my lashes, I studied him, that pretty face, the dreads…and the weapons. Colleen wouldn’t touch a weapon if she had to. That sort of baffled me, but to each their own.

They felt different, but nobody felt the same. I’d learned that much in the past few years. The air around him snapped bright, hard, while the energy around Colleen was something gentle, soft. She felt like a spring rain against my senses, sweet and gentle and renewing.

He felt like a fighting fury, but a focused one.

So what kind of witch are you, then? I asked him.

Does that matter? He continued to watch me.

It does to me. I flashed him a sunny smile.

Justin, stop playing games, Colleen said tiredly as she moved over to an empty seat. Justin’s freelance—he’s not affiliated with any of the Houses. I’ve explained about those. But he’s…well, he’s also a warrior. That makes him different, too.

Warrior—

Useless. You shame us. A weakling among warriors…

I jerked my mind back from the traps of the past. So you can fight. Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips against the surface of TJ’s desk and waited. There had to be more to it than that.

It’s a little more complicated than that, TJ said, speaking for the first time since we’d come into the office. Her voice was gravelly, rough. "Witches, as a whole, are pacifists. Not by choice. It’s a racial thing, bred into them. They’d die before lifting a hand to defend themselves. They can’t. It’s not in them."

I opened my mouth. Shut it. After two more tries, I managed to say, "Then how do any of them survive?"

Because of people like me, Justin said, and his green eyes glowed. "I was warrior born. Not only can I fight, but I like to fight and I’m good at it. I learned offensive arts from the cradle up and a lot of it was instinctive. I just needed guidance. That’s how the warriors are. Without us, they die."

"And without us… Colleen interjected, shooting Justin a narrow look. The warriors aren’t grounded. They lose focus and go on rampages. A witch-born warrior needs a focus. A job. A…mission, if you like. Justin is an independent, so that complicates things for him."

You don’t belong to a House, so you don’t have anybody to fight for.

He shrugged. In a nutshell. My mother was human. Dad was a witch with Red Branch—

Crazy sons of bitches, TJ muttered.

Justin ignored her. But he broke away from them when they refused to acknowledge my mother as his wife. They went off on their own. I was born. Things were okay the first few years, but then they were killed. I…

His voice trailed off and he stared at the wall. Then he shook his head. Anyway, I didn’t want a House. Never saw the point in them. Bigoted, narrow-minded asses, most of them.

You never gave the Road a chance, Colleen said quietly.

The Road wouldn’t want me. He shrugged. Anyway, I’m good at what I do.

And that is…?

He flashed me a grin and this one was a little bit wild. I’m a jack of all trades, darling Kit. Investigator, bounty hunter, bodyguard…among other things. Which leads me to why I’m here.

I lifted a brow. The man had a flair for drama, I decided.

He paced across the floor, stopping about three feet away. You showered, so it’s faint. But you bloodied somebody. I can smell it. I wouldn’t connect it to him if I hadn’t had his blood all over me earlier. But there it is—I tracked it here.

Bullshit, I muttered. You can’t track by scent.

It’s not scent, Colleen said as he opened his eyes and just watched me. He can track by violence, by the feel of a person’s magic.

Exactly. His smile took on that hard edge again. "And he had your magic all over him. I’d never felt it before until I met you. I’d know it anywhere."

So this is about the wolf who got in my face earlier.

No. Although judging by the look on TJ’s face, I’m going to assume you all didn’t have a nice, happy little chat.

Get on with it, I said. My hands were sweating, my heart racing.

He reached into his pocket. I was tracking him anyway. Needed information. I latched on him easy once I caught his bloodscent…and your magic. Followed him home. He had a piece of paper in his hand now. We had a discussion. It ended badly. He’s kind of dead now.

My jaw dropped, but before I could even process that, he held out the paper he held. Automatically, I took it and looked down.

Then, I looked harder.

It was…me.

What is this? I asked, my voice shaking minutely.

You tell me. I’ve been hunting for a friend of his for nearly a week. I finally track Rogers to his hidey hole and the place smells like my quarry, but I can’t find him. Missed him by hours. But I did find this…a picture of you. So you tell me…what is this?

Justin wouldn’t go into the rest of his case while people listened.

TJ objected.

Colleen gave me a worried stare.

But every time I thought about turning away and just leaving, I had a weird little twist in my gut and that voice shrieked, no, no, no…this is it.

Whatever this was, I needed to hear it. And I was starting to realize that I also needed to help, if I could.

So I left. With a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’d come on a motorcycle. I didn’t have a car, and my driving skills were…questionable at best. TJ might let me borrow one, but if I wrecked it—and that wasn’t just possible, it was highly likely—I’d be working doubles for as long as it took to pay her back.

The idea wasn’t appealing. But then again, I wasn’t too sure about riding with him, either. As he threw a leg over the shiny chrome and black beast, I just stood there and stared.

A knot lodged in my throat. If I got on that thing, I’d have to touch him. He’d be touching me.

You coming or not? We can’t talk about this here. He paused and then said the worst possible thing. "You can’t help from here."

Jerking my chin up, I met his gaze mutinously. "What makes you think I want to? Why should I care about what you have going on?"

A soft laugh escaped him as he stared off into the night. The muted glow from the murky streetlights overhead did little to illuminate his features but I saw him just fine. He had the face of an angel—a fallen one, yeah, but he was still a work of art. Just then, he was somber, serious. Kit, you’ve got it written all over your face. You can’t help yourself. Then he looked back at me. Not any more than I can. It’s what we do. And…you’ll care once I tell you what’s going on. Trust me.

I hesitated, still. I didn’t like it when people touched me. Not even Colleen or TJ. I’d just now managed to hold still when Goliath patted me on the back with one of his massive hands. Now I’d have to get on the bike…

Who hurt you?

I flinched at his gentle, soft question.

Then I strode toward the bike and threw my leg over. "What in the fuck makes you think anybody hurt me?" I demanded.

He didn’t answer.

That was fine.

I’d have a hard time smacking him down anyway. I had to deal with the knot in my throat first.

We rode on the bike for nearly an hour. For the first twenty or thirty minutes, I sat rigid as a piece of steel, keeping as much distance between us as I could.

Justin didn’t say anything, kept his hands on the handlebars of that sleek, shiny bike and the roiling energy of his magic had been pulled in until it was just the barest brush on my skin.

It made it easier to relax—a little—and I let myself start to look around. He hadn’t told me that we’d be leaving Wolf Haven, driving to some point north of the place where I’d found some sort of refuge several years back. At first, I’d thought we were going to East Orlando and my heart had all but jumped into my throat, tension once more tightening my muscles as I remembered my last trip into East Orlando.

I wasn’t ready to go back there.

But then he’d headed off the highway, taking another road, and then another until we were all but lost in the Florida countryside. We probably weren’t more than an hour or so from Orlando—the so-called Theme Park Capitol of the World. The human tourists who came looking for thrills wouldn’t guess how close they were to absolutely nothing. Or maybe they would. After all, half of them went looking for a different kind of thrill.

They went to Orlando, planning a little side trip into East Orlando, hoping to catch a glimpse of a werewolf, maybe one of the werecats. They might venture into one of the charm shops the witches ran and ask for a spell. The most they’d get was a bracelet that would maybe offer some luck to the owner, or memory stone that would help a person remember things they’d forgotten—if the owner was lucky.

They went looking for the newest kind of thrill, only we weren’t new at all. We were older than old. The non-human races had always been here. Witches, weres, vampires…my kind. We’d been living here among humans since the dawn of time. If you asked a vampire, they’d say they were actually the first to walk the earth, but most of the vampires I’d come across were pretentious sons of bitches anyway. Of course they were going to make that kind of claim.

Anyway, the other big thrill in Orlando had nothing to do with the big-eared mouse and everything to do with the big-toothed shapeshifters and other assorted NHs that lived just a few short miles away over