by Lee Roland
PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF THE EARTH WITCHES
Vengeance Moon
“Roland loses no traction with the second book in her terrific Earth Witches series. . . . Readers will be delighted that this book focuses on the mysterious Michael, who made such an impression in the first novel. Up-and-comer Roland provides great character motivation that highlights the fast-paced action. Here’s an author and series on the rise!”
—Romantic Times (4½ stars)
“Just a few pages into the book had me hooked. Vengeance Moon is a page-turner. I stayed up all night just to read the last page, and I was not disappointed.”
—Romance Junkies (4 blue ribbons)
“An intriguing and dark look at a world that is precariously balanced . . . full of action . . . an entertaining read.”
—Night Owl Reviews
Viper Moon
“A total thrill ride . . . definitely an author to watch.”
—New York Times bestselling author Alyssa Day
“Lee Roland is one to watch. She’s got scads of talent as a writer, plotter, and character developer, and Viper Moon is easily one of the best urban fantasies I’ve read so far this year. . . . Be careful that you don’t start this too late at night or when you have an important paper or job at work to accomplish as you’ll get sucked in immediately and won’t want to put it down. . . . Fans of Patricia Briggs, Suzanne McLeod, and Faith Hunter will gobble this one up.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Roland hits the ground running with an impressive debut that contains an edgy, dark energy. The atmosphere is suitably eerie, which will keep readers on the edge of their seats as things definitely go bump in the night! If Viper Moon is any indication . . . [the] series holds great promise!”
—Romantic Times (4 stars)
“A fascinating new kick-butt heroine is on the scene of urban fantasy. A disconcerting mélange of potential allies who each have very different assets provides spice and variety to the story. . . . Plenty of action combined with intriguing characters (particularly enjoyed the delivery service provided by Horus) makes this an excellent introduction to the series.”
—Night Owl Reviews (top pick)
“A creepy world of night creatures and other nasties that will make you shudder. Viper Moon is fast-paced and fun, with twists and turns that you may not see coming. I’m looking forward to more books in this brand-new series!”
—My Bookish Ways
“Complete with snakes, bronze bullets, and super strength, Viper Moon is a ride like few others . . . definitely a hit and a book that I am thrilled to have indulged in. You don’t want to miss out on it!”
—Café of Dreams Book Reviews
“A great start to a dark and exciting new series. Cassandra is a strong, kick-ass heroine that you can’t help but like. . . . I loved the blend of mystery, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. . . . I couldn’t put this book down and can’t wait for the next installment of the Earth Witches series.”
—TwoLips Reviews
“A terrific dark thriller that establishes the Roland realm as a place to be for subgenre fans . . . action-packed. . . . Viper Moon is a winner.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
Novels of the Earth Witches
Viper Moon
Vengeance Moon
Vicious Moon
A NOVEL OF THE EARTH WITCHES
Lee Roland
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
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For more information about the Penguin Group visit penguin.com.
First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Margie Lee Roland, 2013
Map copyright © Merald Clarke, 2010
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
ISBN 978-1-101-61458-7
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.
Contents
Praise
Also by Lee Roland
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Map
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
About the Author
Excerpt from VIPER MOON
For Woody.
I still miss you so much.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not be possible without professional and personal aid from many individuals. A few, but certainly not all, are listed below. There is no particular order of listing. Each was the “most important” at certain times.
My family, whose love and support keep me going.
My editor, Jhanteigh Kupihea, who has guided me through the process of publishing.
Agent Caren Johnson Estesen, who made my stories reality instead of dreams.
My friends, fellow writers and critique partners—present and past—whose critical feedback and encouragement was, and will continue to be, invaluable.
Chapter 1
Disaster loomed like an earthquake-born tsunami. The moment the woman climbed into my car, that watch your back feeling kicked me in the ass and I wanted to hunch my shoulders and duck. I ignored it, as I had many times in the past. I based my decision on the often flawed theory that catastrophe wasn’t so bad if you saw it coming.
She’d stood waiting in front of a convenience store, right where I’d been told to pick her up. She said her name was Mara, but she didn’t offer a surname and refused to make eye contact.
I’m Nyx Ianira. I’m a licensed private investigator in San Francisco. I’m twenty-eight years old, a former soldier, armed guard, and an earth witch with magical powers that unfortunately didn’t include the ability to discern lies. I stretched my legs, trying to ease the tension. Waiting is something every PI gets used to, but this time I couldn’t relax. At least I’d had time to leave the office and change from my suit into more c
omfortable jeans and a T-shirt. I did wish this job was over with, though. I had a date with the owner of a dive shop later. He wanted to give me lessons. Actually, he wanted to take me to a beach in Mexico and talk me out of my bikini.
He wasn’t a deep philosophical thinker, but he liked what he saw. I have gold-brown hair with lighter blond streaks, nice perky breasts, and a tall, slim body that curves in the right places. There would be no great soul mate meeting of the minds, but it promised to be fun.
Harold, my erratic and occasionally inebriated partner at Single-Eye Investigations had called last night and asked that I take a pro bono case for him. I was to retrieve a child from a noncustodial father. While I’m always happy to help a kid in danger, the agency has firm rules against that kind of high-risk intervention. I helped write them when I became a partner in the firm. Those situations are best handled by the appropriate official authorities, the kind with warrants, guns, and badges. Harold said he’d made an exception for this one because the father was an abusive, drug-dealing fiend. Apparently he feels I’m more qualified to face abusive, drug-dealing fiends than he is. He’s right, of course, but that didn’t make it less dangerous or less a violation of the rules.
I had insisted that the mother—that would be Mara—come along. No way was I, a stranger, going to snatch a terrified seven-year-old by myself, even if it was legal. A kid in that kind of situation is usually traumatized enough. Now Mara and I were sitting in my car across the street from a modest three-story apartment building, waiting for our chance to get to the kid. It didn’t look like the places usually associated with drug-dealing fiends. The building didn’t have high security and the neighborhood appeared family oriented.
Mara didn’t talk, which suited me. She might have been attractive at one time. Her drab clothes were clean, but she had the haggard look of a woman weather-beaten and aged beyond her actual years. Her hands twitched occasionally, fingers dancing across her thighs. The early summer evening wasn’t warm, but sweat trickled down the side of her face and neck. She was probably nervous and afraid of the ex, or afraid what I might have to do to get her kid back. Unfortunately, she had my discomfort level swelling like yeast bread in a warm bowl of water. Surely Harold had checked her out before he’d called me.
“What’s your daughter’s name?” I asked.
Mara didn’t speak for a few seconds, as if she had to work to remember. Then she said, “Kate. Her name is Kate.” Mara leaned forward. “That’s him. He’s leaving. See.”
The man exiting the apartment house hurried down the sidewalk. He wasn’t a substantial six-foot-seven bruiser, so I figured I could take him if I absolutely had to. Not that I wanted to get into a fight. Stealth was my method.
He continued down the sidewalk without getting into a car. Not good. That meant he might not be gone long. Timing would be critical on this little adventure.
Mara followed me as we hurried across the street and up the stairs to a second-floor apartment. I laid my hand on the apartment door and called on the powers of earth magic that were my birthright. The locks quietly opened.
“Hurry,” Mara urged from behind me. Her whole body vibrated now.
Was this a mother anxious to see her child? Maybe. I knew nothing about being a mother—except that I personally never wanted to be one. I was not qualified for that.
I slowly opened the apartment door, then had to grab Mara to keep her from rushing inside. “Don’t,” I hissed in her ear. “You don’t know who’s in there.” Drug dealers often had lots of guns on hand. I held her tight and she stopped struggling. She didn’t stop shaking.
Fortunately, the apartment seemed empty. It was neat and smelled faintly of pine cleaner. Dishes washed and floors swept, it had none of the trash, beer cans, whiskey bottles, or paraphernalia I’d expect to see in the home of a drug dealer.
A girl’s faint laugh came from the bedroom. I grabbed Mara’s arm so she wouldn’t run to the little girl. The kid might not be alone.
Not a problem. Mara stood frozen, gazing around the room with the intensity of a cat searching for a slow-moving mouse.
I dragged her toward the bedroom.
The little girl, Kate, was sitting on a bed with a pretty pink bedspread. She appeared quite content as she cradled a stuffed animal in her arms and hummed to a tune from the tiny headphone buds in her ears. She hadn’t heard us come in. I glanced around. Again, a clean room decorated with pictures of animals and hand-drawn children’s art.
I still held Mara, who by now struggled to escape. I released her.
Kate glanced up. Her eyes flew open in horror.
“No!” she shrieked. She jumped up and threw her small body away from us. We stood by the doorway and she had nowhere to go. She jammed herself tight into a corner. Her face twisted into a mask of terror, and all my uneasiness about the operation coalesced into a total rock in my chest.
“No!” Kate screamed again. “The judge said I didn’t have to go with you! He told me. Daddy! Daddy!” She hunched down, sobbing, and covered her head with her little arms.
I turned to Mara. She’d better have a good excuse for this. But the bitch had disappeared.
Now what did I do? Leave the child I’d managed to terrify? Try to calm her? My mostly happy and fearless childhood had left me ill equipped to understand her panic. Other earth witches might have cast a spell to make her sleep and forget, but I had no training in such and feared I’d harm her.
Something crashed in the living room. A sick sense of impending doom I’d felt earlier descended like a massive, soul-chilling storm rolling in off the Pacific. I rushed back to the living room and found Mara on her knees on the floor. Pieces of broken ceramic surrounded her. She was scooping up loose bills. Not much, maybe a couple hundred dollars. “I knew it was here. He always hid it in the same place. I knew it. I knew.” She puffed out breathless words.
Pure rage filled me. The father wasn’t the addict here. Mara had totally conned my stupid partner and I’d fallen for her lie, too. This bitch wanted to steal money from her ex, not rescue her daughter. The cops would arrest me for attempted kidnapping and burglary. Worse, what horror had I inflicted on a little girl for no good reason?
I marched over, locked a hand in Mara’s hair, and snatched her to her feet. The cash went flying everywhere as she clawed me, trying to escape. I caught one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back. We’d left the door open, so I muscled her out into the hallway. She struggled so hard I had to use magic to close the door behind us. I didn’t dare release her. She’d go back in. I could comfort Kate best by getting her disgusting mother out of her sight.
By now, Mara was screaming something about needing the money. I mightily resisted the urge to throw her down the stairs.
As we emerged onto the sidewalk, Kate’s father rushed up. I didn’t give him time to speak. I released Mara and she crumpled to the concrete, wailing and covering her head with her arms as if to ward off blows, just as her daughter had.
I glared at Kate’s daddy. “You need better locks.”
Then I marched across the street to my car. There’d be hell to pay later, but Harold, who had set me up for this disaster, would take the heat with me. I was fuming with anger. How could he not have investigated the custody battle? There must’ve been plenty of court documents that would reveal Mara’s duplicity.
A movement down the block caught my eye.
Three tall women strode toward me. My still-simmering anger at being duped instantly vanished. I’d only seen women like those approach me once before in my life. I’d recognize that warrior’s look anywhere.
The Sisters of Justice.
They belonged to a world I no longer inhabited. And they were scary as fuck. They had no magic in them, but they carried the power and authority to kill my kind. To kill me. The Sisters were the Earth Mother’s official enforcers. Three of them together formed a Triad—an execution squad.
My mind raced with possibilities. I had committed no crimes,
practiced no evil spells. The insignificant bits of power I used in my daily life and work were permissible—or so I thought.
So why were they stalking toward me? That meant an execution. No way had I done anything to deserve that. My well-honed fight-or-flight survival instinct surged. I had to escape so I’d have time to figure out why the bitches were after me.
I jumped in the car and raced away like I had demons on my heels.
Chapter 2
Like most witches, I can see in the dark. Everything appeared in shades of gray as I sprinted through the woods of Northern California. I’d made my speedy exit from the Mara/drug dealer fiasco in San Francisco yesterday with nothing but what I carried. Summer had withheld its fickle blessing at this altitude, but I wasn’t cold. I raced down the hill, leaped across a trickling stream, and started up the next one. With every breath I cursed my pursuers.
Sisters of Justice.
Three hours ago they had caught me on the highway north of Redding and run my car off into a ditch. I escaped into the Shasta National Forest on foot. I had no idea how they kept finding me. I was a better driver, but no matter what road I took, they were eventually right behind me. It was as if I had a GPS tracker on my ass. That couldn’t be, because it was the first thing I checked. I’d thrown every hiding and cloaking spell I knew at them. Running away had often been an important facet of life. I had run away from my home in the southern Georgia swamp ten years ago when the leaders of my coven pressured me to take a bunch of vows and become a true certified witch. And they wanted me to find a suitable man and produce little witch babies. I didn’t want to be a witch and I certainly wasn’t then, or now, a high-quality candidate for motherhood.
I wanted more. I wanted the world. Anywhere I went though, they could probably find me. I solved the problem by joining the Army. Once I took the oath to serve, even witches would have difficulty extricating me from the military’s clutches. Oaths and vows were impotant to them. After the Army, I’d lived and worked abroad until I returned to the States three years ago—to California, over two thousand miles from the swamp.
