“It’s not going to happen, Geoffrey,” Nicole said.
He grabbed a cookie and went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “If we had access to even a fraction of the grimoire’s power, we could shatter Oberon’s curse and be home in a matter of minutes.”
“And I’d be dead,” she said. “It’s a tempting offer, but I’m going to pass.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Geoffrey Merlin said, looking down innocently at the cookie he was turning over and over in his fingers. “I would be there to draw all the magic out of you again.”
Nicole pressed her lips together tight. Of course. That’s what he wanted. More power. She should have known.
“I think you still have plenty of magic leftover from last time.”
“See, Geoffrey,” Shay said, looking down at her with pride. “She did see reason after all.”
Merlin grumbled something to himself before taking a bite of the cookie. He had just swallowed when a brilliant flash of light lit up the inside of the store.
Then another.
And another.
For half a second everyone froze, waiting to see what otherworldly disaster was about to pop into existence inside the store…but nothing did.
Because this time the light wasn’t coming from some magical source. It was coming from a camera.
“Somebody’s taking pictures,” Nicole said.
She jutted out her arm and pointed at a woman standing on the other side of the front window. The woman was dressed all in black—shirt, pants, hoodie pulled up high to obscure her face. Nicole couldn’t make out any of her features. Not that she had that long to try.
The moment the woman saw her pointing, she took off running like hell down the street.
Nicole frowned and turned to Shay. “What do you think that was about?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “All I could sense was that she’s afraid we’ll find out.”
Merlin slipped another cookie into his jacket pocket. “Then I suppose that’s exactly what we should do. Anyone care to join me?”
“Oh hell, no.” Emily said. “I’m done with my adventure quota for the month. I’m going home before anything else bad can happen.”
“Fenrir?”
The wolf shook his head. “I go where she goes.”
“I won’t bother asking you two,” Merlin said glancing over at Nicole and Shay. “Then I suppose I’m on my own for this one.”
They all watched as he turned on his heel and headed out the door in a flash. Emily and Fenrir followed behind him at a far more leisurely pace.
“Once we’re home we can finish that conversation about why you’re so uncomfortable with se—” Fenrir started.
“No,” Emily cut him off as they walked out into the street. “We won’t. We will never have that conversation.”
Nicole waited until the door closed behind them before she started to laugh.
“Have they always been this way?” she asked Shay.
“No,” he said. “They used to be much worse. The wolf has a way of growing on people.”
Nicole chuckled. “And Emily has a way of digging in her heels.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know.” Shay stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He nuzzled his face against her cheek. “It’s getting late.”
Nicole’s cheeks warmed at the low, suggestive rumble of his voice against her ear.
“Almost time to close up shop,” she said.
“That’s true.” He pulled her in closer, until her back was flush with his chest, his strength and warmth surrounding her. “And how would you like to spend your evening, Miss Starling?”
“How else? Playing games.”
“Another one with twenty-sided dice?”
“Of course,” she said. “Is there any other kind?”
One of his hands dipped lower. Suddenly, Nicole was glad she was behind a counter tall enough to shield her from the waist down.
“Oh, there are plenty of games I could teach you, my love,” he whispered. “More than you could ever imagine.”
She turned around in his arms. “Let me keep the dice, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
He bent his head down and pressed his lips against hers.
“How could I refuse you?” he said.
Nicole smiled. “You can’t.”
“You’re right,” Shay answered. “And I never will.”
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And continue reading for a sneak peek at Chapter One of HOOK, the first book in the Exiles of the Realm series.
Hook: Exiles of the Realm #1
Chapter One
Seven months.
Seven months and nearly fourteen days he’d been working for this very moment. He’d schemed and planned, bargained and stole just to make sure all the pieces fell together just right. Hell, he’d done everything short of selling his very soul only to watch all his hard work go down the drain.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
He’d done everything right.
He’d started planning his way back home the moment he’d arrived in this forsaken world. Luckily, it didn’t take long to realize that his quick wits and fast fingers were just as useful on Earth as they had been back home. Of course, he hadn’t wasted all his time lining his own pockets. Sure, he’d been quick to fill his coffers and buy a respectable hideout—apparently here they called such a place a penthouse apartment—but those things were necessities. After all, breaking Oberon’s curse wasn’t going to be cheap…or easy.
Once he’d been tossed through the Gate, James had landed in a place called San Francisco—a little, hilly city by the sea—but, after a few days of searching, he’d realized he’d arrived here alone. And James was willing to wager that if he was on his own, then the other exiles were as well. Scattered across this vast, mundane world with little hope of finding each other.
Well, maybe the others didn’t have much hope. James, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do.
He gathered funds. He talked to people, charming his way into alliances with powerful individuals whose skills and resources complemented his own. They were the ones who had shown him this city…this world, really—its riches, its strengths and weaknesses. It’s laughable security. They’d even unknowingly helped him discover a small handful of relics left behind by previous exiles.
But most importantly, they’d helped him locate, transport, and secure lodging and funds for the most important pieces of his plan—the rest of the exiles.
Now, after seven months of planning, he finally had them all in one spot, sharing an Italian meal outside a crowded bistro on Columbus Avenue.
Everything should have been perfect. He should have been listening to them sing his praises, and thank him for all the work he’d done. Instead, James feared he was a few seconds away from watching them rip each other’s throats out.
“I don’t give a damn why you brought us here, thief,” Bron Douglas, the long-haired blond man sitting next to him, snarled. “But I would rather die alone on this forsaken rock than spend another second across from this monstrous cur.”
“That can be arranged, hunter,” Fenrir shot back with a vicious grin.
“Gentlemen,” James broke in with the tone that usually calmed everyone down.
The pair mowed ri
ght over him.
“You’ve never succeeded before,” Bron taunted the wolf with a smug grin.
“That was back on our world.”
“The Realm. Earth. The Underworld,” Bron said. “It doesn’t matter where we are.”
“Please tell me I’m not expected to sit here and listen to these two bicker for the next hour,” the man across the table from James said. Of course, calling Shay Madrid a man wasn’t exactly right. Sure, his form was human enough, but all the magic and power swirling inside his dark eyes was anything but.
“You think yourself better than us, jinni?” Fenrir scoffed. “At least this assassin has the courage to fight me out in the open. I wouldn’t turn my back on you for a moment.”
“Gentlemen,” James tried again.
“I don’t see why. I’ve always kept my deals,” Shay said, his voice dangerously low. His tousled black hair framed his face as he turned toward Geoffrey Merlin. “Unlike some.”
Geoffrey’s spine stiffened. “Strong words, seeing as none of us would be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.”
“Gentle—”
“And you’re blameless?” Shay leaned forward in his seat. “This mess with Oberon would have been over centuries ago if it wasn’t for your selfishness.”
“My selfishness? Take a look around this table and tell me one other person who has attempted anything for the greater good.”
“The greater good?” Shay scoffed. “Is that what you call the slaughter of innocents?”
“Enough!”
James brought his fist down hard on the bistro table. Plates and silverware clattered against the faux mosaic top. His wine glass teetered on the edge for a long second before finally tipping over. A loud crack sounded as glass exploded into hundreds of shards on the dirty San Francisco sidewalk.
James drew in a deep breath as dozens of heads turned his way—the diners at the neighboring tables, the people behind the glass wall of the restaurant, even the pedestrians passing by. But James didn’t care about bystanders. He was only interested in the four people that were seated directly across from him…the ones whose attention he finally had.
James took a beat to drag his fingers through his hair and settle his features into his usual unflappable mask. Slowly, the people around them turned back to their own tables, the pedestrians started walking again, and when James opened his mouth his voice was calm and clear.
“That’s enough,” he repeated. “I didn’t scour this world to find you just to listen to you bicker like crows.”
“Then why did you bring us here?” Bron cocked a questioning brow.
“Didn’t you listen to the terms Oberon gave us?” James asked. “The Gate will remain locked until Hades breaks them open and sets every last one of you free. Every last one. That means we need to work together if there’s any chance of us getting back home.”
A heavy silence fell over the table. It didn’t last long. A second later, a dark laugh broke out. James snapped his head toward the source. Fenrir.
“You really think you can break the curse?”
It was the question he’d been waiting for. The whole reason he’d arranged this meeting. He was ready to tell the rest of the exiles his plans.
Well, the parts he wanted them to know. He wasn’t about to give up all his secrets. That wasn’t exactly his style.
Besides, there would be plenty of time for full disclosure later…once he was certain he could trust them. After all, these guys didn’t become the most notorious criminals in the Realm for nothing.
“Of course.” He started the speech he’d rehearsed hundreds of times in his mind. “Any curse can be broken. Sure, some might be more difficult than others, but none are impossible. That’s why for the past seven months, I have spent every waking hour focused on one goal. How to get back—”
“Sorry,” a woman’s voice said. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Their waitress stood by the table with a broom in hand. At least, James assumed it was their waitress. The staff at this restaurant was practically interchangeable with their uniforms of black pants and white button-up shirts. The thick, dark ponytail bobbing behind her as she tilted her head to the side was vaguely familiar, but, honestly, James hadn’t paid all that much attention to the person scribbling down his order. He’d had other things on his mind.
Just like he did now.
“Excuse me,” she muttered again as she angled her body into the small space between his chair and the table and started sweeping up glass shards. He tried not to focus on the way her hip brushed against his arm as she worked.
“You don’t need to do that,” James said.
“Yes, I do, sir.”
“No, you don’t,” he glanced at the white name tag pinned to the top of her shirt pocket, “Mercedes.”
“Can’t have shattered glass on the sidewalk,” she said with a sigh, and continued sweeping. “Someone might cut themselves.”
James reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers, stilling the broom. Her head whipped toward him.
“Take your hands off me,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry.” He slid his hand off hers, but didn’t let go of the broom handle. Instead, he tried shooting her his best smile. “But we’re in the middle of something important.”
She didn’t look impressed. Her wide, deep brown eyes practically burned as she stared down at him. Fine, tense lines crinkled the corners of her lips.
“Well, sir, since whatever you’re in the middle of included punching our dishes, I now have to clean up your mess.”
With one quick tug, she yanked the broom out of James’ grasp and turned her attention to the broken glass.
“And there’s no way you could do that later?” he asked.
“Nope. But if you stop talking to me, I could probably finish it faster.”
James couldn’t help but smile at her undisguised annoyance. He hadn’t met many people here who had such an unpleasant reaction to him. Well, not many women, anyway.
Her ponytail swung around her shoulders as she finished sweeping up the last of the shards. She gave a quick glance around the table, before her deep brown gaze finally landed back on James.
“Do you gentlemen need anything else?”
“No, but thank you, Mercedes,” he said, letting his tongue linger on her name.
She cocked her brow up just a fraction of an inch, giving her a decidedly defiant—not to mention adorable—look, before pulling a thick, folded check holder from her apron pocket and letting it land with a thunk on the table.
“Great,” she said. “Then here’s your bill. You can pay inside.”
James smiled at her. She scowled at him. Then a second later, she turned and walked away.
Strangely, he couldn’t help watching her as she went, her spine ramrod straight, hips gently swaying side to side. There was something about the woman that held his attention…something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
After all, there was nothing outwardly spectacular about her. Her form was nice enough. Her eyes lively. She obviously had a spark to her, but he’d seen fires that burned brighter.
And yet…
“You were saying, thief?” Fenrir teased him just as the waitress rounded the corner of the restaurant and disappeared from view.
James snapped his attention back to the men at the table.
“Something about his only waking thought,” Bron said, crossing his meaty arms in front of his chest as he leaned back in his chair. Open amusement shone in his forest green eyes.
“And a plan to get back to the Realm,” Geoffrey said. There was no laughter in his voice, just suspicion.
“Indeed.” James shook his head, trying to clear it. He needed to refocus. “It’s a simple plan.”
Geoffrey leaned forward. His gray eyes swirled and stormed like thunderclouds in the sunlight, giving the magician a distinctly powerful appearance in this mundane world.
“Somehow, I get the sense that when it come
s to you, James Hook, nothing is ever as simple as it seems.”
James’ lips tightened as he weighed what to say next. It was impossible to tell just how much Geoffrey Merlin saw with that otherworldly stare of his. Even here in purgatory, without a source of magic to manipulate, it would be dangerous to underestimate the man.
“You don’t trust me,” James said. It wasn’t a question.
“Does that surprise you?” Geoffrey asked. “Do you trust me? Do you trust any of us?”
No, no, and no.
“I don’t see why that matters,” James said. “The important thing is that we need each other.”
“To break the final part of the curse?”
“Exactly.”
“So you did manage to smuggle out the Key?”
What? James straightened up in his chair. He wasn’t willing to show all his cards just yet. Not when he wasn’t sure what the exiles might do with the relic. Hell, the way they were snarling they might tear each other apart just to get their hands on its power. Better to keep his secret just a little longer.
“I never said that,” James said.
“You didn’t have to,” Bron said. “Why else would you go to the trouble of finding us all?”
“I already told you,” James said. “We all need to be together to satisfy the final condition of Oberon’s curse.”
Fenrir leaned forward. An emotion far more dangerous than simple disappointment shone in his eyes. “But what’s the point unless you have a way to unlock the Threshold of the Underworld?”
“Without the Key we’re as powerless as we were before,” Geoffrey said.
“Not exactly,” James said carefully as the magician’s gaze sharpened on him. “We may not be able to open the Threshold yet, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t figured out a way to communicate through it.”
All caution left Geoffrey’s face in a flash. “But that would take—”
“Dragon magic,” Shay Madrid finished for him, looking every bit as interested as the magician.
Jinn: Exiles of the Realm Page 18
