Magic at the Gate

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Magic at the Gate Page 1

by Devon Monk




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for the Allie Beckstrom Novels

  Magic in the Shadows

  “Ms. Monk sweeps readers up in the drama and dangers of the heroine’s life as it steadily changes and grows. Magic in the Shadows is an intriguing read with fascinating characters and new magical elements introduced to the mix.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “Delicious . . . action-packed, and full of magic, this series is really starting to hit the Kim Harrison and Kelley Armstrong level. Deep, dark, and addictive with a great leading lady. . . . Once you start reading, you won’t be able to stop. Give Devon Monk a chance and try the Allie Beckstrom series. You will not be disappointed.” —Amberkatze’s Book Blog

  “Mystery, romance, and magic cobbled together in what amounts to a solid page-turner.”

  —SFFWorld

  “[This] series is one of my favorites . . . a well-written story with likable and realistic characters. Magic in the Shadows is a fun urban fantasy with strong world building and characters readers can enjoy following.”

  —BSCreview

  Magic in the Blood

  “Tight, fast, and vividly drawn . . . features fresh interpretations of the paranormal, strong characters dealing with their share of faults and flaws, and ghoulish plot twists. Fans of Patricia Briggs or Jim Butcher will want to check out this inventive new voice.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “Ms. Monk weaves a unique tale of dark magic that will keep readers at the edge of their seat[s]. Magic in the Blood is so thoroughly described that the creepy bits will have you thinking of magic and ghosts long after you’ve finished the story. Fast moving and gripping, it will leave you wanting more.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “One heck of a ride through a magical, dangerous Portland . . . imaginative, gritty, sometimes darkly humorous. . . .An unputdownable book, Magic in the Blood is one fantastic read.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “[A] highly creative series about magic users in a world much like our own, filled with greed and avarice. I love the character of Allie and she is just getting better and stronger as the series continues. . . . If you love action, magic, intrigue, good-versus-evil battles, and pure entertainment, you will not want to miss this series.”

  —Manic Readers

  Magic to the Bone

  “Loved it. Fiendishly original and a stay-up-all-night read. We’re going to be hearing a lot more of Devon Monk.”

  —Patricia Briggs, New York Times bestselling author of Bone Crossed

  “Gritty setting, compelling, fully realized characters, and a frightening system of magic-with-a-price that left me awed.”

  —Rachel Vincent, New York Times bestselling author of Shift

  “Highly original and compulsively readable. Don’t pick this one up before going to bed unless you want to be up all night!”

  —Jenna Black, author of The Devil’s Playground

  “An exciting new addition to the urban fantasy genre. It’s got a truly fresh take on magic and Allie Beckstrom is one kick-ass protagonist!”

  —Jeanne C. Stein, national bestselling author of Retribution

  “The prose is gritty and urban, the characters mysterious and marvelous, and Monk creates a fantastic and original magic system that intrigues and excites. A promising beginning to a new series. I’m looking forward to more.”

  —Nina Kiriki Hoffman, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Thresholds

  “Monk’s reimagined Portland is at once recognizable and exotic, suffused with her special take on magic, and her characters are vividly rendered. The plot pulled me in for a very enjoyable ride!”

  —Lynn Flewelling, author of The White Road

  “Clever and compulsively readable. . . . Allie’s internal and external struggles are brilliantly and tightly written, creating a multifaceted character who will surprise, amuse, amaze, and absorb readers.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Devon Monk has created a cool new heroine in Allie Beckstrom. . . . She has developed a system of magic that is intriguing and distinct from those filling urban fantasies by the score. . . . With a strong heroine, a great setting, and an interesting new system of magic, Magic to the Bone is likely to give urban fantasy readers more of what they want: a worthy read. Recommended.”

  —SFRevu

  “Devon Monk is casting a spell on the fantasy world. . . . Allie is a convincing, street-smart heroine. . . . Monk has done an outstanding job creating a gritty, authentic-feeling urban fantasy on par with Rob Thurman or John Levitt. It should be interesting to watch how this series develops.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “With style and a magical world that is quite fresh, Monk explodes on the scene and makes a few waves. . . . For sheer guts, stubbornness, and determination, they don’t come much feistier than Allie.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Monk makes a grand entrance with her debut novel, captivating readers with a well-imagined tale of magic and suspense. Magic to the Bone delves into a dark-edged magic and adds a touch of romance that keeps the heroine more human than those around her. I’m looking forward to seeing where the next portion of Allie’s journey takes her.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “An intelligent, entertaining mystery. The kick-butt heroine is strong and independent. . . . Exciting fun, readers will look forward to more adventures of Allie.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “The characters are anything but stereotypical. They defy expectations and truly come alive on the page. The use of magic in here is new and fantastically riveting. The plot is complex and wonderful, with excellent twists and turns. The not-particularly-explicit sex scenes are searingly hot in an unusually ‘real’ kind of way, and the emotions are incredibly poignant. Simply put, I can’t do this book justice. You’ll have to read it for yourself.”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “Magic to the Bone is a breath of fresh air in the urban fantasy genre, in much the same way that Ilona Andrews’s Kate Daniels series is a breath of fresh air. Instead of the same tired werewolf/ vampire soap opera that so many novels perpetuate, Magic to the Bone is more concerned with the ramifications of adding magic to modern society and exploring the realistic consequences . . . an exciting and often poignant story. . . . Devon Monk shows the potential to be a standout writer in the subgenre. Most importantly, I could not put this book down; I read it in two nights, with only work and sleep coming between me and the pages. Well done.”

  —Fantasy Literature

  “A unique character, her interior quips are humorous. . . . The humor blends with the drama to make it stronger. Devon Monk has created some fantastic characters to inhabit her suspenseful story. The ending indicates this might be
the beginning of a series, which is wonderful, because the story is as addictive as the use of magic, earning Magic to the Bone a perfect ten.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  Also by Devon Monk

  Magic to the Bone

  Magic in the Blood

  Magic in the Shadows

  Magic on the Storm

  ROC

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,

  Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,

  Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,

  New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632,

  New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

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  Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, November 2010

  Copyright © Devon Monk, 2010

  All rights reserved

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-44507-5

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For my family

  Acknowledgments

  Without the many people who have contributed time and energy along the way, this book would not have come to fruition. Thank you to my agent, Miriam Kriss, and my editor, Anne Sowards, two consummate professionals and awesome people who make my job easy.

  All my love and gratitude to my fantastic first readers, Dean Woods, Dejsha Knight, and Dianna Rodgers, whose loving support and brilliant insights not only make the story stronger, but also make me a better writer. Thank you also to my family, one and all, who have been there for me every step of the way, offering unfailing encouragement and sharing in the joy. And to my husband, Russ, and sons, Kameron and Konner. You are the very best part of my life—I couldn’t do this without you.

  Lastly, thank you, dear readers, for letting me share this story and this world with you.

  Chapter One

  Sure, love can make a person do crazy things. But not me. No, never me. Still, there was nothing else to explain the fact that I had ended up in a battle between magic users over the disks my father invented while a wild-magic storm tried to kill us all. There was nothing else but love that would make me turn away from my injured, possibly dying friends, and step through a gate into death with no one beside me but my undead father and my gargoyle. Nothing but love would make me leave this world to bring Zayvion Jones’ soul back from death.

  I suppose if I had never met Zayvion Jones, none of this would have happened. Man had a knack for messing up my life. Truth was, I liked it. He’d probably say the same about me, if he weren’t in a coma.

  As I took that first step off of the grass of Cathedral Park, and through the gate into death, I braced for pain. I’d never stepped into death before, but I figured it was going to sting a little.

  No. A pause of breath, then cool, soothing numbness settled over me, whisking my pain away. I had never felt better.

  As soon as I put my foot down into death, that sense of well-being was gone, replaced with a sense of foreboding.

  Death itself had seen better days. Vacant, crumbling buildings, and slick pools of black oil stretched out along the sidewalk of what I was pretty sure was supposed to be West Burnside Street. The city—and it was very clear we were in some twisted version of Portland—looked like a dump. If this was death, I wanted to meet the marketing team that had dreamed up both the fluffy-cloud, golden harp thing and the eternal fires of burning hell shtick.

  This place was broken and empty. Achingly so.

  “Allison?” my father, who had his hand on my arm, said.

  He was fully solid, no longer ghostlike. A little taller than me, gray hair, wearing a business suit with a lavender handkerchief in the pocket. Death didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

  And it shouldn’t. He belonged here.

  He squeezed my arm, his eyes flicking back and forth, searching the details of my face. “Can you breathe?”

  Of all the dumb questions. “Of course I can breathe. Let go of me.”

  His lips pressed together in a thin line and the familiar anger clouded his eyes. He pulled his hand away from my arm.

  There was no air. No air in my lungs and none to breathe. I tried not to panic, but hey, this was death. I’d be lucky to get out of here alive. And I had to get out of here alive. Zayvion was here, pushed through a gate by his ex-girlfriend Chase, and her ex-Soul Complement, Greyson. Zay’s body was in a coma, but his soul was here. Somewhere.

  This was my one chance—my only chance—to save him. I didn’t think anyone got to walk into and out of death twice. I was just praying that Zayvion and I got to do it once. The very real danger of never feeling his touch or hearing his voice while those dark, beautiful eyes looked into me, suddenly sank in. The possibility of never being able to find Zay’s soul set off a sharp panic in my chest.

  Well, that and not being able to breathe.

  Dad put his left hand in his pocket, tucking something away. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and watched me gasp. Stone cold, that man.

  I shut my mouth and glared. I would not reach out for his help. Yes, I was that stubborn. My vision darkened at the edges.

  Could you pass out in death? I was about to find out.

  Stone growled and stepped toward Dad, fangs bared. That’s a good gargoyle. Take a bite out of Daddy for me.

  Stone’s normally dark gray body was now black, shot through with lightning flecks of blues and greens and pink, like obsidian with opal running beneath the glassy surface. He practically shone, his eyes glowing deep amber. Death didn’t seem to be bothering him, which wasn’t all that strange, since he was made out of rock and magic, and wasn’t actually “alive” in the traditional sense.

  “Touch the Animate,” Dad said. “You should be able to breathe again.”

  It was beginning to dawn on me that passing out and leaving my dad conscious might be a really stupid idea. I put my hand on Stone’s head. Air, good—well, if not good, serviceable—air filled my lungs. I hacked like a smoker on a three-day
bender. My lungs hurt.

  “You are in death.” Dad hit lecture mode from word one. “A living being crossing into death. There is so little chance you could have survived that, Allison. No one can step into death if they are fully alive. And yet, here you stand.” His gaze searched my face. “What part of you is dead, my daughter?”

  I didn’t know—my sense of humor maybe? My tolerance for his possession of me? Or maybe I could walk into death because my Soul Complement was in a coma and his soul was already here. Right now, I was too busy coughing and trying to breathe to get all philosophical.

  He shook his head, dismissing the question as easily as he had always dismissed me. “To survive this place, you will need to stay in contact with something that is neither fully alive nor completely dead. Something that exists in a between state, like the Animate.”

  “Stone.” I finally managed to exhale. “He has a name.”

  “Yes, Stone. He will act as a filter between life and death, and if you stay in contact with him, he will bear the brunt of the effects of death. But not for very long.”

  “You’re dead,” I said. “All dead. Why could I breathe when you touched me?”

  “That answer is complicated. It involves choices I made years ago.” He looked up and down the street, then at the building next to us as if getting his bearings. He started down the street.

  I followed him, Stone somehow sensing the need to stay under my hand. There was no one on the streets with us, no wind, no rain. When I glanced up, it was nothing but terracotta sky and hard, white light.

  “Tell me you’re dead,” I said.

 

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