Paranormal Chaos

by Joshua Roots

  Paranormal Chaos

  By Joshua Roots

  Whoever said “violence is a last resort” never had a Minotaur for a best friend.

  Warlock Marcus Shifter has been sent on the most dangerous mission of his career: travel to the remote Minotaur nation and convince them not to abandon the tenuous peace agreement between the humans and the paranormals. But securing that peace requires his best friend, Steve the Minotaur, to help him find a way in to the isolated homeland. A homeland Steve left behind long ago, intending to bury his complicated past.

  Secrets and intrigue aren’t the only trouble Marcus uncovers with the notoriously blunt Minotaurs. Between political upheaval and their own civil unrest, rebellion is brewing. A Minotaur revolt wouldn’t just mean the end of the Reformation Treaty, but a shattering of the peace it represents. Cut off from allies and low on ammunition, Marcus must find a way to prevent the coming storm before the human and paranormal worlds are plunged into a horrific, bloody war…

  Book three of the Shifter Chronicles

  95810 words

  Dear Reader,

  It’s officially 2016! In the publishing world, we’ve been talking in terms of 2016 for over a year by the time it gets here, due to the amount of time some books are scheduled in advance. So for us, 2016 already feels like it’s been around for quite some time. And, of course, we absolutely already have 2017 and 2018 in our planners, and even though it messes with our brains to be thinking in terms of 2018, it’s great news for you since it means there will always be new books to read!

  This January, as always, we start our Carina Press release schedule as we mean to continue the year—with a mix of contemporary, science fiction, historical, male/male and suspense romance, as well as a romantic mystery and an urban fantasy thrown in.

  Shannon Stacey always brings a fantastic blend of humor, heroes and sigh-worthy romance, and her novella A Fighting Chance (which is kicking off 2016…no pun intended!) is no different. All work and no play makes Adeline Kendrick a dull girl, so when she heads to a casino resort for a friend’s bachelorette weekend, she’s ready to have a good time. Until she runs into Brendan Quinn, professional fighter and the one who got away—the one her family drove away—and things take a turn for the interesting. When the weekend is over, Adeline isn’t ready to give up her second chance that easily.

  A kidnapping forces an ex-CIA operative back into the violence of a Colombian cartel, where he finds the wife he believed dead to be very much alive—and hiding a dangerous secret in this romantic suspense novel by Edie Harris. Pick up Crazed: A Blood Money Novel this January, and then catch up on her other romantic suspense titles, Blamed and Ripped.

  The Carina Press acquisitions team bonded over our love of A Duchess in Name, a historical romance from Amanda Weaver that kicks off her Grantham Girls trilogy. A wild passion unexpectedly blossoms out of the arranged marriage of the Earl of Dunnley and American heiress Victoria Carson, but will the lies that bound them in marriage finally tear them apart?

  It’s time for another installment of the kick-ass and romantic male/male space opera series Chaos Station from Kelly Jensen and Jenn Burke. In Inversion Point, Zander and Felix have to find a way to face their doubts and preserve their love—while preventing another galaxy-wide war.

  Are you ready for a mystery with a side of romance? When Detroit criminal defender duo Issabella Bright and Darren Fletcher are summoned to the island estate of a retired judge, a deadly chain of events is set in motion—one involving murder, stolen World War II treasures and a conspiracy of revenge that stretches all the way to Chicago, where Darren’s brother Luther wields their family’s power with cold, ruthless precision. Buy Jonathan Watkins’s Isolated Judgment, or go back to where the Bright & Fletcher mystery series began with Motor City Shakedown and Dying in Detroit.

  Whoever said “violence is a last resort” never had a Minotaur for a best friend. We’re pleased to welcome back Joshua Roots with his newest urban fantasy, Paranormal Chaos. Warlock Marcus Shifter has been sent on the most dangerous mission of his career: travel to the remote Minotaur nation and convince them not to abandon the tenuous peace agreement between the humans and the paranormals.

  Coming in February 2016: A male/male new-adult romance from K.A. Mitchell, Nico Rosso begins a thrilling new romantic suspense series with a hero you will love, we introduce new author Anna del Mar with her sexy romantic suspense, Lauren Dane re-releases a fan favorite, and so much more!

  In the meantime, I wish you the very happiest of years as we travel into 2016. May your year be blessed with nothing but good books, memorable characters, and many, many happy-book-sigh moments as you read the last page.

  As always, until next month, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  Dedication

  This final book in The Shifter Chronicles is dedicated to some of the most important people in my life:

  First, to Dad, who is every bit the inspiration for Christopher. A fellow Marine, you taught me everything I know about, golf, marriage, and how to stay calm in a crisis. Many people have to look outside of their loved ones to find a hero. Mine visited me every day in the hospital, attended every one of my plays or musicals, and cheered the loudest at every rifle meet. I am grateful and proud to have had such an amazing set of footsteps to follow.

  To my sister, Abigail, who is my Comic-Con partner, fellow Hellboy nut, and someone who is as much a friend as she is blood. Thank you for beta-reading this and sorry for the broken arm when we lived in the Reston town house.

  To my seventh-grade English teacher, Dr. Randy Hollister. Your ability to make your students feel important and your unique approach to making education fun has had a lasting impression on me and my family. And yes, I still have the birthday poem you wrote all those years ago.

  Lastly, to Amy, who makes every moment of every day exponentially better.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Excerpt from Undead Chaos by Joshua Roots

  Chapter 1

  My Kingdom for a Centaur

  “It was in the days of Minos, King of Crete, that the great man prayed to Poseidon for a bull of pure white as proof of the god’s support of his rule. Poseidon heard the prayer, and the bull was granted to be sacrificed in honor of the God of the Seas.”

  —The Legend of Ariadne

  Whoever said “violence is a last resort” apparently never had a Minotaur for a best friend.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” I shouted, leaping over a fallen tree.

  Steve crashed through the brush next to me. “Not my fault!”

  Behind us, a herd of Centaurs weaved through the forest, galloping furiously and cursing like drunken sailors. An enormous arrow missed my head by inches, burying itself in a nearb
y tree. I flung myself sideways, out of the path of another arrow.

  “Man, those guys are pissed,” Steve grunted.

  My lungs burned as I gulped down ice-cold air. “You were. Fooling around. With the chief’s mate.”

  The Minotaur frowned. “She swore she was single.”

  A hundred snappy comebacks ran through my mind, but I was too busy sucking wind to use any of them.

  Steve glanced over his shoulder at the gaining Centaurs. “Now would be a good time to use your magic, dude.”

  That was easier said than done. I’d tapped my Skill pretty hard just to get us out of the Centaur camp, and the exhaustion from using so much so quickly was eating away at my insides. I didn’t want to dip into my reserves if I could help it.

  Sprinting through the woods wasn’t helping matters.

  Opting for a more conventional approach to the situation, I drew the Glock from my hip holster, twisted and pulled the trigger. The Tactical Tupperware thundered, bucking hard in my hands. The.45 caliber bullet thumped into the trunk of a nearby tree. The actual impact did little more than rustle the leaves and chip the bark, but the deafening boom of my hand-cannon startled the leading Centaurs. They slowed, recoiling with surprise.

  “Suck it, Horsies!” I shouted. Then I yelped as the herd regained their composure and charged. Shoving my gun back in the holster, I sprinted like an Olympian after my Minotaur compatriot.

  “Oh good, now they’re angrier,” he growled.

  Steve’s sarcasm aside, he was right. My attempt to frighten them had failed, and killing any of them, even in self-defense, was out of the question. So unless I was willing to forgo the possibility of reconciliation in the future, which I wasn’t, or I tapped my magical reserves, Steve and I weren’t getting out of the forest in one piece.

  Why were all of my Council assignments always wrought with the terrible options?

  Without pausing, I swiped a hand against a passing tree, then reached out with my Skill. My mind flashed with heat as I connected with the elemental power of the oak. For the blink of an eye, I felt the sturdiness of the branches as they extended toward the sun, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. Beneath my feet, the roots took long, careful sips on the water that had soaked into the forest floor from the melting snow. This tree, this forest, was powered by the strength of patience and the tireless struggle to survive against the elements.

  It was that power that I needed.

  I pulled and the raw, unfiltered force of the tree raced to me, flooding me with new energy. I grasped it like a drowning man, shaping it to my will. I concentrated on the tree and all the earthly connections it touched, then lifted my hand skyward.

  Roots exploded from the ground, showering me, Steve and the Centaurs with dirt and rocks. The lead pursuers hit the brakes, but their hooves struggled for traction in the sloppy mud. They slid, crashing into the mass of twisted roots with a string of whinnies and curses.

  I started to smile, but the victory was short-lived. The rest of the herd skidded around their tangled comrades or simply vaulted over them. Long, powerful legs stretched outward as the creatures sailed gracefully though the air. Sunlight glinted off the rippling muscles, illuminating the elegance of the beasts.

  Their beauty was marred slightly by several arrows notched into their bows.

  “Look out!” Steve shouted, shoving me off my feet as an arrow split the air between us. He twisted, fluidly avoiding the deadly razor-tip.

  I, however, landed in the muck with the grace of a sack of brown bananas. The momentum from Steve’s love-tap carried me down a short decline and through a pile of thick brambles. Thorns ripped into my jeans and drew long red lines in my skin. I rolled for another twenty feet before coming to a messy halt.

  A shout of alarm echoed off the trees, followed by a cry of pain.

  “Steve!” I yelled over the noise of the Centaur war cries. Panic gripped my chest when there was no answer.

  Fearing for my friend, I struggled to my feet, then angled back up the small hill toward his location. My boots slipped in the mud as I plowed through the brush and into a small clearing.

  Two Centaurs were unconscious at Steve’s feet while another charged him head-on. The Minotaur crouched, then sprang as his attacker reached him. Wrapping an enormous arm around the flank of the beast, Steve stood and twisted, launching her across the clearing. She screamed, then crashed to the sloppy ground in a pile of flailing arms and legs. She slid a few feet and was slow to rise.

  Steve didn’t even pause. Instead, he spun sideways to avoid the long deadly blade of another Centaur, dropping the guy a moment later with a sickening blow to the jaw. As the creature fell, Steve sprinted past me.

  “Keep moving, slowpoke.”

  I gave the remaining pony-people a half-second glance before racing after my companion.

  “We’ll be fine once we get out of their territory,” he said when I caught up.

  My legs were burning almost as bad as my lungs. “How far?”

  He only shrugged.

  “You’re supposed to be good with directions.”

  “Hey, there’s a huge difference between a Labyrinth and the open woods.”

  “You said you knew this area.”

  “I did, ten years ago,” Steve snapped. “A lot has changed.”

  I bit back a curse. On the one hand, I’d begged Steve to join me on this Council-backed negotiation mission. On the other, we were now lost in the middle of Centaur Country and the inhabitants were all having a bad day.

  Which was a big, steaming pile of fun.

  Steve cocked his head. “I hear water.”

  I had to take his word for it because all I could hear was the pounding of my heart.

  “This way,” he added, turning slightly and speeding up. I struggled to keep pace as he slowly pulled ahead.

  Man, I was out of shape.

  We were nearly to the long, steep slope that ran down to the small stream we’d crossed earlier when my boot caught on a small, dead tree. I stumbled, flinging my arms out for balance. The uneven terrain, however, refused to cooperate. I fell, twisting a moment before I hit the ground. Something popped in my rib cage and pain radiated through my body.

  Fear pumped through me as I scrambled to recover. I rose on shaky feet as quickly as I could, wincing as I limped forward. I wrapped my left arm around my midsection, placed my hand over my busted bone, and spoke the words to the Healing Spell. Warmth trickled into my side as the spell began slowly knitting the bone back together, but already I could tell the effects wouldn’t be enough. My exhaustion from both running and tapping into my Skill hadn’t left much in my reserve tank and I wasn’t willing to drain it just yet. Instead, I numbed the pain as best I could and continued toward the slope.

  I never made it.

  I felt the compression of air a heartbeat before the arrow nicked my shoulder. Cotton and skin split with ease, and fire ran down my arm. My knees gave out and I dropped to the forest floor like a rock.

  I rolled over onto my backside, reaching desperately for my hip holster. My attacker drew another arrow as she charged, but before she released it, a blur erupted from the trees nearby. Steve blindsided her, hurling her to the ground. He delivered a blow to her chin, then ripped the bow from her hands and swung it like a baseball bat against the flank of another Centaur. The man-beast cried out and dropped. Steve silenced him a moment later with a boot to the face.

  “Behind you!” I started to shout, but he was already turning. He gripped the “waist” of another Centaur, then lifted the creature and pile-drove him into the earth. The attacker went limp.

  Thunder filled the woods around us as a dozen more Centaurs galloped through the forest. Steve snapped to his feet, scanned the trees, then sprinted toward me.

  “You trust me?”

/>   “No!” I shouted, but he scooped me up like a sack of potatoes. I had a glimpse of angry faces and hooves, then all I saw was blue sky as Steve launched us over the edge of the slope. My stomach lifted into my throat while my buddy rotated us through the air. He pulled me to his chest, wrapping me tight in his tree-trunk arms. A heartbeat later we slammed into the slope with Steve on his back and me on his front. He grunted, air rushing out of him on impact, but held on as we slid down the muddy hillside.

  The world’s worst sled-ride plowed down the slope for fifty feet or so before we spilled over the edge of a small cliff and dropped into the icy waters below. My entire body convulsed as Steve and I went under. The gentle current pulled at us, but the creek was only chest high on me, so we were able to find our feet and slog to the far side. Once on dry land again, we flopped onto the bank. A hundred yards to my right was the long, rickety rope bridge Steve and I had crossed several hours earlier. At the far end, right where I’d left it, was my large red hiking backpack.

  Apparently Steve was better with directions than he admitted.

  “Guess we’re finally out of their territory,” he said.

  Above us, the Centaurs gathered along the ridgeline. Most shouted or whooped curses, but none made a motion to come after us. Steve’s booty call held a palm up at my buddy, her face lined with sadness. Then she shouted at the chieftain and stomped off into the woods.

  My teeth chattered as the rest of the herd slowly faded back into the trees. “She really liked you.”

  Steve sighed with disappointment. “Yeah.”

  I turned to my friend, who shrugged.

  “First good date I’ve had in a while” was all he offered.

  Even wet and cold, I couldn’t help but fume. “You do realize your hormones nearly got us killed. And basically screwed our chances to get the support of the Centaurs.”

  His enormous nostrils flared. “Only in the short term.”

  I wanted more details, but the need for a dry set of clothes overwhelmed my curiosity.

  “We better get going,” I said, thankful that I hadn’t lost my sword or my gun. “How far to your clan’s territory from here?”