Night Tide

by Kory M. Shrum

  It had collided with some of the stone carvings lining the walls. The impact destroyed a section, revealing jagged rock beneath.

  Ethan stood on the left side of the stone coffin. Hope stood on the right. Their gazes were locked on one another. Reese could feel the magic like electricity crackling in the air.

  “Do not mind the mess, my friends,” Ethan said calmly. But he didn’t take his gaze off of the woman. “Hope is a mere chaos demon. She can hardly help herself.”

  “I’m so much more than that!” Hope’s face contorted in a hideous snarl. “I’m her chevalier. Just as well as you! You have no more right to her than any of us!”

  Hope jabbed her finger into the center of the coffin each time she said the word her.

  “You have the Witching Blade and your blood. What do you mean to do now?” Ethan asked.

  “It will work,” Hope hissed. “It will.”

  “All that Ydril told you was untrue,” Ethan said calmly. He placed one hand on the coffin’s stone.

  “He said the blade was in the ocean. That the sirens had it. But I figured out where it really was.” Hope twisted the strange knife in her hand. It looked more like a stake than a blade to Reese.

  “He deceived you,” Ethan said. “So that you would give him the coin he sought. He can’t go on hallowed ground. Did you know that?”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t realize every piece of shit in this town was loyal to you.” Her free hand gripped her edge of the coffin. “They won’t be once they know what a coward you are.”

  “So how did you learn the blade was in the forest?” Ethan asked.

  And with a sudden spark of clarity, Reese understood why he was asking. He wanted to know what mistake he’d made, and how his secret had been uncovered.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hope said. “I’m her chevalier. She chose me. You have no right to keep her.”

  “My queen does as she pleases,” Ethan said calmly. “Six months ago, Henry made the mistake of thinking he could also take her from this place.”

  Hope’s lower lip began to tremble. “I’ve missed her. I want her back.”

  “This isn’t the way.”

  But Hope had already pulled the long wooden blade above her head. Reese thought the demon meant to plunge it into the coffin, but no. She dragged the tip of the blade down her arm, splitting the skin. Blood welled up instantly, flowing over her flesh.

  Hope extended her hand into the coffin.

  For a moment there was only a dripping sound. Tap, tap, tap. Like a faucet leaking somewhere in this grand house.

  Hope’s pained expression gave over to pleasure. “See? You don’t know her like you think you do. You think you know what she wants but—”

  Hope’s words were swallowed by a sudden intense scream. The volume of it echoed off the walls, colliding and overlapping with itself. Reese, Violet, and Liam all covered their ears.

  Hope was yanked forward, her body slamming into the side of the stone coffin. Then the arm was wrenched entirely from her body and disappeared into the sarcophagus.

  The chaos demon stumbled back, still wailing. She looked at her severed arm, now torn from her shoulder as if she couldn’t believe it was gone. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water.

  Reese wasn’t sure what she expected to crawl out of the coffin. Some creature worthy of a lifetime of nightmares.

  But what she saw instead was a woman. A young woman, slowly rising. To Reese, she didn’t look like the majestic living goddess Reese had always imagined Vendetta to be. Instead, she resembled like a child, no more than sixteen. Her eyes were large liquid pools of moonlight and her face cherubic. The hair flowing down her back, impossibly long, seemed to shine with a life of its own, as black as a moonless night.

  Blood dribbled down her chin as she released her hold on the severed arm. It fell to the floor with a wet splat.

  This was Vendetta. In the flesh. One moment she was standing in the coffin like a sleeping beauty just wakened. Then she was in front of Hope, wrenching the other woman into her embrace.

  Vendetta tore open her throat with one ruthless bite.

  “Please,” Hope begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please, my queen. I only want to serve you. I only want—”

  Vendetta tore her head off her shoulders the way one rips an annoying tag from the inside of a shirt. Pieces of the demon fell to the marble floor. Blood escaped the body in a red stream.

  Go! A voice cried in Reese’s mind. Violet startled beside her and Reese suspected she’d heard the same cry. Liam had already placed a hand on both of them, pushing them toward the stairs. Go! Before she can—

  But Vendetta was in front of Reese. Her liquid brown eyes sparked with an internal fire. Not the hellfire Reese had come to know in the eyes of the demons around her.

  Magic, she realized. I’m seeing the golden burn of magic inside her. That’s all she is in there...

  “Hello,” Vendetta purred sweetly. She was almost a head shorter than Reese. She gazed lovingly up into Reese’s eyes. “Did I make this one? She smells like mine.”

  “We are all yours,” Ethan said. He was at her back now, one hand on her arm as if to pull her away. But he wasn’t exerting any will over his queen.

  “So beautiful,” Vendetta said. She ran a blood-stained finger down Reese’s cheek.

  “Very beautiful. But look what you’ve done to your room, my lady. I will have to clean it up.”

  Vendetta turned and regarded the pool of blood and Hope’s destroyed body.

  “I called her here. I called her like I called the other ones,” she purred. Her words were in their minds, Reese realized. Her lips weren’t moving at all. “More will come, Ethanu.”

  “I know,” Ethan said. “You are very clever.”

  “I need more. I must be strong when she wakes up.”

  “Who, my treasure?” Ethan asked, mimicking her tone.

  “Mother.” A crystalline laugh like a bell echoed through the room. It was as if the idea delighted Vendetta to no end. “Were you afraid? You never liked Hope.”

  Vendetta slid her arms around Ethan’s neck, slicking the collar with blood. It was a strangely sexual movement. It didn’t match the child-like image in Reese’s mind. “Do you think I will eat you next?”

  “I’m not afraid.” Ethan smiled sweetly. He wiped at her chin the way a father might for his daughter. “You may do what you want with me. My body and soul are yours.”

  “But I smell your fear. Why are you afraid, Ethanu?” She bent and smelled his chest. She moaned as if the smell was more than pleasant. “I am so hungry.”

  “I know,” he said and put a hand on the back of her head. “You may feed on me, my queen, if you wish it.”

  Over her head, Ethan met our gazes. Please, his eyes begged. Please get Liam out of here.

  Vendetta bent forward and sank her fangs into Ethan’s neck.

  “Come lie down,” he said, gathering her up like one would a child. She didn’t remove her fangs. “Rest now.”

  Violet shoved Liam up the staircase and pushed Reese up behind him. They fled as if their lives depended on it—and it was possible they did. No one spoke until they were in the pickup, rushing down the road at full speed.

  “Christ,” Liam sighed, removing his scarf the way one loosens a tie. “I thought we were dead. I thought she was going to drain every single one of us dry.”

  “You and me both, bloodsucker. Holy shit she’s terrifying. More terrifying than I imagined.”

  She whooped and both Liam and Reese jumped.

  “Take me to a bar,” Violet demanded. “I need a fucking drink.”

  “Go to Setting Sun,” Liam said. “Drinks on me.”

  “Is she going to drain him?” Reese asked. The world was beginning to solidify around her again. The blind panic seizing her left a cold chill in its wake.

  “He’s all right,” Liam said. “But Hope is the second chevalier that Vendetta has killed.”


  “What the hell is a chevalier?” Reese asked, having heard that word twice tonight.

  “Like her personal servants. Uh, minions maybe?” Liam tried.

  “Like generals in hell,” Violet said. “She created them to do her bidding. To protect and serve her.”

  “Why the hell would she kill her personal servants?” Reese asked.

  “She’s taking her power back,” Liam said, darkly. His moody gaze regarded the ocean waves.

  “Does this mean she’ll kill Ethan too?”

  “Someday,” he said. “But he was her first chevalier. I have a feeling he’ll also be the last one standing.”

  As the Castle Cove lights came back into view and a feeling of safety enveloped her once again, Reese relaxed.

  “The goddess is waking up,” Violet murmured from the backseat. “Any idea what that means?”

  “No idea.”

  “What shall we do in the meantime?” Reese asked, slowing at the four-way stop outside Crossroads.

  “Drink like it’s the end of the world?” Liam offered.

  Violet met her gaze in the rearview mirror, a wicked grin on her lips. “I can think of more than a few things to keep you busy.”

  Grayson

  They departed Vendetta Heights with Grayson driving his car. Abby rode shotgun as they followed Miriam’s Prius onto Canyon Road then Midnight Pass.

  He thought they might make it all the way to the interstate when the Prius suddenly slowed and its blinker came on. It flashed, signaling a turn.

  “There’s nothing here,” he said, incredulously.

  “You can’t see it?” Abby asked. She gave him a curious look. When he shook his head, she added. “There’s a road there. On the left. It must be concealed with magic.”

  Again he was confronted with the idea that Abby was a witch. That Abby, unbeknownst to him, had crossed that line without his knowing.

  Had they been heading for this shift even before the horrible night in the cove? Had it always been only a matter of time before they crossed the line between worlds?

  Abby was fully on the other side of that line now. But where was he?

  Maybe that’s what his question about college—about what kind of life he saw his future self in—was really about. What kind of life did he want? Which world did he want to live in?

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Abby asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. He turned onto the dirt road.

  The smell of salty ocean air filled the car.

  The road was clogged with thick foliage from overgrown brush on both sides of the road. Grayson hissed as branches scraped at the sides of his car. He expected dips and ruts, but the road was smooth.

  “He probably forces the branches back,” Abby said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She makes a motion with her hands. “Like with his mind. Ethan is really powerful, probably the most powerful demon in town, from what I hear.”

  “We are driving to a demon’s house?” he asked. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that.

  “Honestly, no one can be sure of what he is. He walks in daylight, and demons can’t do that.” The trees broke open and a two-story Spanish villa sprang into view. The dirt road turned to beautiful paving stones that circled in front of the house. In the center of the roundabout was a fountain bubbling softly with turquoise water.

  Miriam parked her car in front of the cream-colored steps. Grayson parked behind her and got out of the car. With his dirty clothes he felt wholly underdressed for a place like this. He was sure someone who’d just run more than half a marathon through the woods to save their lives didn’t look or smell too great. But his self-consciousness was obliterated by the gorgeous ocean view. It sparkled like champagne in the late afternoon sun.

  “Somethin’ is wrong,” Dante said behind him, breaking the spell.

  “Yes, I see that,” Miriam answered.

  Grayson followed their gaze and found the front door to Ethan’s house had a giant hole blasted out of it. It hung on its hinges.

  “What in the world could do that?” Abby asked.

  “Hope,” said Naomi and Ms. Monroe at the same time.

  “They should stay in the car,” Miriam said and Grayson realized that she meant him and Abby.

  “What if she finds ‘im there and kills ‘im?” Dante asked.

  “I could stay with them,” Ms. Monroe offered, a hand resting on top of her bristly orange hair. The hope was evident in her tone.

  “No, Tabby, I want you to be my eyes.” Miriam sighed. “We’d better stay together then.”

  Ms. Monroe visibly deflated as Miriam nodded toward the door. “You first.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Ms. Monroe sighed. “All right.”

  Then the woman who’d been Grayson’s boss for the last two years did something he’d never expected. She transformed.

  Into a cat.

  The stark orange hair that always jutted uncontrollably from her head smoothed itself onto the sleek, lithe body of a house cat. And not just any cat. But the cat that he’d known as Pumpkin.

  “She—” he began but could only point at the cat. “Shit.”

  Abby grinned. “You didn’t know? At least I’m not the only one.”

  Ms. Monroe stepped out of her human clothes and trotted up the cream-colored steps into the house. The five of them—Miriam, Dante, Naomi, Abigail and himself—lingered on the steps, looking around at the approaching night darkening the distant horizon.

  It was nearly fifteen minutes before Ms. Monroe returned. By then the cricket song had swollen to a full cacophony and the ocean waves had nearly lulled Grayson into a doze.

  As soon as he realized Ms. Monroe was transforming back into her human form, Grayson turned around quickly. He didn’t want to see the woman whose shelves he stocked, naked, even in twilight.

  “Ethan asks that we come back later. Hope was here, she’s been dealt with and he needs...to clean up.”

  Miriam nodded, conceding. “All right then. That’s all for today. You’re free to go.”

  They dispersed, returning to their cars. Before Grayson and Abigail climbed into his car, Miriam called out. “Abigail.”

  “Yes?” Abigail sounded nervous, even to Grayson.

  “You did well today. Be proud of yourself.”

  Abigail beamed. “Thank you, Miriam.”

  They waved toward the departing coven and followed the car back to the road.

  “Do you want me to take you straight home?” Grayson asked as Castle Cove’s lights came into view. Night had arrived. The city was awake.

  “No,” she said. “I’m too wound up after everything. You would think I wouldn’t be after the hike but—”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “How about Sam’s Soda and Shakes? We did cover like seventeen miles and a full-out monster battle—twice. I think that merits milkshakes.”

  It was a diner in Old Town a couple blocks from the First Night Theater. They specialized in burgers, fries and had an old-fashioned soda counter. After the long and physically exhausting day, Grayson thought he could eat three burgers alone.

  Abigail smiled. “Sure. And then we’ll live happily ever after.”

  Grayson couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

  “After we go to UCLA for four years,” she said. “Of course.”

  “UCLA?” he stuttered.

  “I was accepted. Or we could go to CCU if you want. I got in there, too. Oh, don’t look so surprised. My grades are way better than yours.” Abigail smiled and twined her fingers in his.

  He wanted Abby, without a doubt. The events of the last few days had made her time with him seem incredibly precious. But he was still surprised that she wanted him.

  “Are you sure you want to be with me?” he asked. “You can have anyone.”

  “But I deserve to have who I want, don’t I?”

  “Yes. But are you sure—?”

  She didn’t even let him f
inish. “Grayson. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  Also by Kory M. Shrum

  Dying for a Living series (complete)

  Dying for a Living

  Dying by the Hour

  Dying for Her: A Companion Novel

  Dying Light

  Worth Dying For

  Dying Breath

  Dying Day

  Castle Cove: Design Your Destiny series (ongoing)

  Welcome to Castle Cove

  Night Tide

  Lou Thorne Thrillers (ongoing)

  Shadows in the Water

  Under the Bones

  Danse Macabre

  Standalone

  Badass and Beast: 10 “Tails” about Badass Women and the Beasts Who Love Them

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you first and foremost to the reader. Yes, you. You worked pretty hard this time around, didn’t you? I hope it was a fun read for you—as that was certainly what I was aiming for.

  As always thanks to my wife, Kim. She is my first reader and biggest cheerleader. Love you, Mimi.

  Thank you to my pug Charley, who is the loveliest of writing companions and always remains dutifully by my side while I write. He makes the process so cozy—when he isn’t trying to crawl between me and the laptop.

  Thank you to my assistant extraordinaire, Alexandra Amor, who formatted the paperback, did some editing and offered countless hours of support, so that I can focus on doing what I do best: write.

  Thank you to Silviya Yordanova for another perfectly creepy cover.

  Thank you to my critique group The Four Horsemen of the Bookocalypse: Kathrine Pendleton, Angela Roquet, and Monica La Porta. They continue to wonderfully supportive women who I’m very grateful to have on hand for editing and writing support.

  Thank you to my street team who are always eager to jump in line for ARCs. You guys are great at last minute suggestions and spreading the word about my new releases. And I’m so lucky to have your support.

  I also relied on my lovely team of proofreaders to catch errors. There were hundreds of you, but shout out to Jo Lucas, Stan Hutchings, Valarie Moss, Chris Christoforou, Rosemary Kenny, G G, Maya Malone, T Mekko, Kristina Hawley, Alison Carminke, Dorkas Michaelis-Iske, Cath McTernan, and any others (who have sent in corrections after I made this acknowledgments page).