Tangible (Dreamwalker)
Page 12
She heard Blake’s keyboard tapping. “I’m on it. Oh, did you realize it’s nearly lunchtime? What do you want on your pizza?”
“No meat, please,” Adi said. “Any vegetables are perfectly acceptable.”
She trusted Blake and the other employees. She did. Everyone at the North American praetorium had been rigorously vetted by assessors more than once. Many by Adi herself. But two days later, during a routine trance-scan of the patient, Adi tossed her shawl over the camera that recorded Karen’s every twitch, unwritten policy whenever they changed a patient’s clothing or washed the body. Then she affixed a tiny camera at just the right angle on top of the supply cabinet.
She was going to find out what was happening to Karen Kingsbury. If she had to bend rules to do it, she could always ask Lillian for advice.
About the Author
Jody Wallace is published in romance fiction under the names Jody Wallace and Ellie Marvel. She has always lived with cats, and they have always been mean.
To learn more about Ms. Wallace, please visit www.jodywallace.com or the cat’s website, www.meankitty.com. You can also send an email to jwallace@meankitty.com.
Look for these titles by Jody Wallace
Now Available:
A Spell for Susannah
Liam’s Gold
What She Deserves (by Ellie Marvel)
Claustrophobic Christmas (by Ellie Marvel)
The Realm
Survival of the Fairest
One Thousand Kisses
When one path closes, another opens—if they survive the journey.
One Thousand Kisses
© 2011 Jody Wallace
The Fey Realm, Book 2
Embor Fiertag, Primary of the Court, has overcome no tougher challenge than the three facing him right now: get reelected, capture the rogue agents who tried to murder him, and improve his love life. The third one should be easy—except he hasn’t exactly told Court trainee Anisette Serendipity she’s his foretold bondmate. Plus, she’s dating his chief political rival and doesn’t seem to like Embor. At. All.
Ani has good reason to avoid the stern, serious Embor. Her wayward sister almost got him killed once, and now he monitors Ani like he expects her to do worse. But Ani’s not the adventurous type. She can’t even break up with Warran Torval, a man she knows she doesn’t want, a man who spends half his time plotting Embor’s downfall.
When Torval attempts to force a bond with Ani, Embor senses her fear and steps in…directly into an unsavory political strategy gone all too right. Forced to flee together to humanspace with a manipulative magical cat, Embor and Ani must find the courage to reveal—and heal—their vulnerabilities before the fabric between the Fey Realm and humanspace is ripped to shreds.
Warning: This title contains sex, fairy drugs, rampant gnomes, bloodshed, and cats ruling the world. As they should.
Enjoy the following excerpt for One Thousand Kisses:
The child stretched out her arms to be picked up. Dirt encrusted what seemed to be every inch of her skin. Embor Fiertag, Primary of the Elder Court of the Realm, clasped his hands behind his back and regarded the child with suspicion.
“Why are you unsupervised?” he asked the girl.
“Up!” she insisted. Sunlight glinted off her coppery hair. He thought her name might be Petunia of Clan Serendipity, but it could also be Violet. It was definitely not Charles, the third Serendipity triplet.
He also thought if he obliged her, he’d soil his white exercise tunic beyond redemption. Where had the toddler found so much mud in the palace gardens? Her top and short pants were almost as soiled as her skin.
“Up, up, up!” she shrieked, her tiny voice increasing in volume. She flung herself against his legs and gripped. Her grubby toes kicked his ankles.
Because his path in life had led straight to Court, Embor hadn’t been around little ones much since he’d been a child. He hefted the girl under her arms, holding her away from his clothing. She was so small it was hardly a strain.
“Fly?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
“Flying is dangerous.”
“Fly. Up!”
“Stop screaming.” If she continued to make noise, her cries might attract her mother, and he had no wish to encounter Princess Talista. After she’d nearly gotten him killed in humanspace, he’d avoided her as much as possible. His recent dealings with her husband were more than enough exposure to the mouthy termagant.
Her twin Anisette, on the other hand, Embor hadn’t avoided. In fact, he’d scheduled his exercise this morning because it intersected with her routine. She often walked in the palace gardens in the morning when it was cooler.
Despite relocating twice during his exertions, he’d seen no sign of Anisette—only this child, unsupervised by a responsible adult. That didn’t rule out her mother’s presence, since he didn’t consider Talista to be particularly responsible.
The child regarded him with unblinking blue eyes. “No flying?”
“Where is your mother?”
“I ran away,” the child confided.
“Why?”
“’Cause.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
She laughed. “Fly!”
Embor lowered her to the ground, but she wailed and kicked, her feet dangerously close to his privates. He sighed. Obviously he wasn’t going to be able to put her down until he found her caretaker. He’d have a strong word with whoever had allowed her free rein in the gardens. The grounds were protected by magic, but children could come to harm anyway, or so he understood. There were several fish ponds on the premises, as well as a maze and an extensive orchard.
The girl squirmed, so he placed her on his hip. Her body was hotter and wetter than expected. Perhaps she’d found a pond already. She grabbed his queue of hair and yanked, jerking his head to the side.
The child seemed unusually strong for her age, which he believed to be three. He removed her hand from his hair. She laughed and stuck a finger in his mouth.
“Stop that,” he ordered. She crammed her fingers between his lips, and the flavor of dirt and something salty flooded his mouth.
A moving object crashed into the tall privacy hedge that enclosed the exercise area. Embor tensed as the bushes trembled. Assassination attempts weren’t unheard of, and Embor had become increasingly unpopular in the past five years.
More inside the Court than out of it, but most coups sprang from the inside.
He gathered magic to transport himself and the child to safety, perturbed it wasn’t instantaneous.
“Violet?” called a feminine voice, an edge of panic evident. “Where are you, kitten?”
Not an assassin. Not the tot’s mother.
Anisette.
“She’s here,” he said.
Anisette’s slim form squeezed between two bushes. A yellow gown, stains on the skirt and bodice, shimmered around her like a butterfly. Her dark red hair had partially escaped an upsweep, and a twig pronged out of the top.
The day had grown hot. Embor’s mouth dried like the desert in Xerode. It reduced the terrible taste of Violet’s fingers.
“By the spirits! That little monkey is going to run me ragged. Thank you for… Oh. It’s you.” Anisette curtseyed and added, “Elder Embor.”
“Fair met, Princess Anisette.” He inclined his head.
From the time she’d arrived at Court, Anisette had been gracious, studious and led into temptation by two things alone—her sibling’s antics and the eligibles at Court who hoped to discover that rarest of relationships—a bondmate. Her high status meant she was pursued by many. She’d even countenanced that slimy bastard from Clan Torval.
Embor wasn’t a monster. He was in his fertility phase. He’d been told he wasn’t unattractive. He was the Primary, for Ka’s sake. Yet Anisette was friendly to everyone but him.
Apparently her niece shared her unfathomable sentiments. The child’s gaze fell upon Anisette, and her small body, which had been resting comfor
tably against him, stiffened.
“Ani!” Violet howled, bursting into tears. She began to struggle in Embor’s arms as if he’d pinched her.
He set her down.
“Come here, honey.” Anisette opened her arms, casting Embor a sharp glance. The child flung herself into the princess’s embrace. “What did you do?”
Her response took him aback. Few in the Realm were foolhardy enough to rebuke the Primary of the Elder Court. Not only was he one of the most magically gifted fairies alive, but his political power was second to none. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected him in a way that reminded him of his twin and fellow Primary, Skythia.
“Nothing.” He stifled the urge to question her skills as a caretaker. He’d made an effort this year to be less exacting with her in hopes she’d grow comfortable with him. In hopes she’d treat him the way she treated others.
His strategy had not succeeded. Yet. Hence his new tactic, crossing paths in a casual setting.
Anisette glared at him over the child’s red curls. “You must have done something. She’s a baby, Elder, not a Court trainee.”
He considered what the child might have found upsetting. “I refused to fly her.”
“You can’t fly anyway.” She examined Violet’s face and body, as if searching for evidence of Embor’s cruelty.
“I can remain aloft temporarily.” Something stung inside him, in the area of his heart. It wounded him that she thought he’d hurt a child.
“That’s all you did, refuse to levitate?”
“That’s all. Violet is unharmed.” He flicked dirt off his long-sleeved tunic. “I can’t say the same for my clothing.”
She ignored him, cooing to Violet, “Did the mean man scare you?”
All it takes is one broken stitch for everything to come apart at the seams.
Split at the Seams
© 2012 Yolanda Sfetsos
Sierra Fox, Book 2
Spook catcher Sierra Fox has paid her debt to the Spook Catcher Council. Life should be easier. Except everything is going to the dogs—or demons, as the case may be. Her boyfriend Jonathan is acting like a possessive jerk. She can’t stop drooling over Jason, her hunky, injured houseguest, who turns out to be a werewolf. To top it off, something seriously freaky is happening to spooks all over Sydney.
Prime example: a ghost who wants to hire her fades while inside her office, and soon they’re disappearing all over Sydney— sucked out of existence. When Sierra finds out who’s behind it, it’s more than just her own life at stake.
As the problems continue to mount, keeping her head above water is a daily battle. Add a stalking, feral animal who is determined to take a piece out of her hide—literally—and life is anything but a bunch of buttercups. Especially when those around her start dropping their façades.
Eventually, she knows, the dust will settle. Only this time, life as she knew it may never be the same.
Warning: Spook catching: Do not try this at home, if you’re under eighteen, or under the influence. Must be prepared to fight off ghosts, demons, weird black dogs and sexy werewolves… Okay, maybe not the werewolf.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Split at the Seams:
Standing in the middle of the hospital corridor with its harsh lighting itching at my skin and the smell of antiseptic, bleach and death tickling my nose, it finally hit me. Oren was very powerful, and I needed to learn as much as I could from him. It was time to stop holding him responsible for ancient family history, and appreciate that he was willing to help me understand how having witch blood could benefit me.
I needed to learn as much magical combat skills as I could.
“Excuse me?”
I spun on my heel and came face-to-face with a young woman wearing a hospital gown. Her long, auburn hair hung like dirty strands of string around her face, her skin looked pale, and her eyes sunken. Even before her proximity forced gooseflesh to sprout all over my body, I knew what she was. My breath misted in front of me as I was compelled to enter the spook’s zone and coughed a few times.
My head throbbed. After the nausea and nosebleeds back at the Council, this wasn’t going to help. Although I was usually dragged into a ghost’s area by their aura, this one had pretty much caught me unaware and zapped me in when I wasn’t ready.
I caught my breath and met her eyes. “Uh, hi…”
“I need to get back to my room.”
I doubted she was headed to her room. Anyone who was hospitalized and emaciated this badly didn’t need to linger in this world. She might not remember right now, but I was pretty sure she’d been battling a terminal disease and lost.
“I need help getting back to my room,” she repeated.
“Can you see the light?” I licked my lips, trying to moisten them. She deserved the peace of moving on to the next patch. I knew exactly what I was talking about because I’d once been tempted by the warm light myself.
The ghost looked up, past my shoulder and said, “I can see a bright light over there.” She half turned away from me and pointed in the opposite direction. “But someone’s calling me down that way.”
“Ignore everything but the light. That’s where you need to go.” My lungs were freezing inside my chest.
This was a different experience for me. I rarely helped spirits move on to the afterlife willingly. I dealt with the ones who refused to stop making mayhem and chaos, or wanted to hurt others. But hotspots like hospitals, cemeteries, haunted houses, or any location where a group of people had died made it hard to shut wandering spirits out.
She took a step.
“No, ignore the voice and head for the light.”
“Are you sure?” She frowned and it made her look a little older than I’d initially thought. “I need to go to the voice, I’m so tired.”
“No, you need to follow the bright light.”
She didn’t answer, and instead turned to walk away.
“Wait!”
“I’m coming,” the ghost girl said, a moment before her image flickered.
Oh shit, not again! “Take my hand.”
The ghost’s lips were moving but I couldn’t hear a word she was saying.
“Go toward the light! Turn around and go to the light before it’s too late.”
She did the opposite. Her skinny legs moved and she flickered off completely before appearing drawn out and gray farther down the corridor. Heading toward the same corner Oren had taken.
I sucked in a quick breath and followed, trying to keep up with the flickering image of a ghost, instead of running from it. She turned the corner and continued down the next corridor.
“Wait!” I had a feeling that whatever was calling this ghost girl would take her the same way it had taken Mrs. Wicker.
When I caught up with her and extended my hand, hers was solid enough to grab. I moved with her, holding tight and determined to follow her until she stopped in front of an open doorway.
“I need to go in there,” she said, pointing at a lonely bed in the middle of the room.
“No, don’t!” But it was too late, her hand slipped from mine. She flashed me a small smile and then faded, but not before I saw what looked like a shadowy hand drag her in. Not this again.
A tap on my shoulder made me jump and the coldness of the ghost’s presence faded, leaving me coughing and wheezing as I tried to catch my breath. My body struggled more than usual to adapt to the real world.
“Relax, Sierra.” A cool hand rubbed my back gently.
I hunched over for several seconds, hands on my knees, waiting for the artificial air of the hospital to settle around me. It took awhile, but the comforting hand never stopped its soothing motions and helped keep me grounded. I knew who it was before I looked up.
“Thanks, Oren.” I straightened and his hand fell away. As I turned and met his eyes, I wondered how many times I was going to find myself thanking him today.
“What happened?”
“I just saw…” My voice trailed off when I n
oticed where I was standing. “This is Mara’s room?”
“Yes, how did you know?” His eyes were concerned, but also questioning. “I got rid of the security guard for a while.”
“How?”
“He developed an unquenchable hunger for a greasy hamburger, which he’ll find several blocks from here.” A small grin twisted his thin lips. “He should be gone for a bit, but you better do whatever it is you need to in order to get some fast answers.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I could’ve ruined this—”
“No, I was on my way to tell you I’d gotten rid of the guard when I found you just standing there in the middle of the corridor, rigid. I didn’t want to interfere and instead watched you head right for this room, reaching for something.” His brow furrowed. “What happened, Sierra?”
I shivered at the recollection of what I’d seen. “I saw a ghost. She wanted my help, so I tried to encourage her to follow the light. But she wouldn’t. She said something else was calling her and led me here.” I figured the edited version of events was better suited for now. The last thing I wanted to do was mention the similarities between Mrs. Wicker and the sick dead girl. It seemed more important to focus on the fact that I was pretty sure the spook hadn’t been called into this room, but dragged.
“A ghost led you to Mara’s room?”
I nodded, slowly. My eyes focused on Mara, lying in the only occupied bed inside the hospital room. There were actually four beds but when I’d followed the spook, this was the only one I’d seen.
“Something strange is definitely going on in this room. I can’t feel the dead like you, but I can certainly feel the unnatural nature of whatever is haunting her.” Oren actually looked uneasy. I’d never seen him this way. He was usually cool, calm and collected—in control of everything, and full of cryptic answers.
I took another step and my skin crawled. I struggled to suck in a shallow breath and exhaled, trying to focus on my surroundings. The room was painted off-white, the same color as the curtains separating each bed. The dividing curtains were all pulled open, displaying the neatly made beds with no charts hanging from the ends. Mara seemed to be the only patient and her bed was situated near the sole window. Her chart looked thick, the pages curling because they’d been handled so much.