Chapter 1
I was thirteen, almost fourteen, when my world crashed. Two retainers from Findlay—my grandmother’s Family—abruptly barged into my classroom.
“Pardon us,” the one I recognized as Osiris Dillon said to my teacher. “Mistress James must come with us. Now.”
The teacher, fear evident on her face, turned to me.
“It’s okay,” I said, although inwardly I was shaking. Somehow, I knew that it wasn’t okay, that it would never be okay again. I gathered my books and put them in my bag, then slowly stood, thankful that my legs held me. Conscious of everyone staring at me, I walked to the front of the room.
Osiris and his companion dipped their heads when I reached them, then Osiris turned and walked out of the room. I followed him, and the other man fell in behind me. The headmistress stood there waiting for us, her expression very serious, but she didn’t say anything. She walked beside me down the long hall, not to the front entrance but to the back, where the service trucks delivered food to the cafeteria.
Outside, at the loading dock, a car waited—a long black limousine—along with two armored fighting vehicles. All of the men wore the uniforms of Findlay guardians, and they were on high alert, their personal weapons at the ready. One man opened the back door of the limo when we appeared, and I was herded into the car. Osiris got in the front with the driver.
No one said anything to me, and I was too afraid to ask any questions. But my father had trained me, and I wrapped my hand around a small box in my bag. He had created it, and with my magikal gifts being the same as his, I had the power to activate and use it.
Our small caravan drove north from the school in Baltimore out into the country to the Findlay estate. The grand white house perched on top of a hill, surrounded by tall white walls and forest.
When we arrived, the front gates were closed, and the guard towers on the walls were fully manned. Osiris hustled me out of the limo and through the personnel gate, leaving the car outside. I glanced back and saw the guards at the gates searching the inside and underneath our vehicle, which frightened me more than anything. We passed through scanners—both mechanical and magikal—into a room inside the wall, and then I was placed in a new vehicle and driven up to the main house.
The butler met us at the front door, but Osiris stayed with me as we entered the house and were conducted to a room I had visited only twice before. My granduncle’s study.
Granduncle George Findlay and Grandmother Olivia awaited me. Osiris stayed outside in the hall, pulling the door closed behind me. I stood there staring at the two oldest members of my father’s Family.
“Come sit, child,” my grandmother said, indicating the place next to her on a loveseat. Granduncle George was in his chair behind his large desk.
I sat down, holding my bag in my lap. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Grandmother Olivia reached over and pulled it out of my grasp, then set it on the floor beside her.
“What is that in your hand?” Granduncle asked.
I opened my hand and showed them the box.
“Did your father give you that?” Grandmother asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What is it?”
“A lightning generator.”
“I think you can put it away for now,” Grandmother said, sticking out her hand. “You’re safe here.”
I placed it on her palm, and she slipped it into my open bag.
“But I’m not safe outside,” I said.
“No, Danica, you’re not.” Her eyes filmed, and her chin quivered a little, as though she was trying not to cry. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll not try to sugarcoat it. Your father is gone. Something happened this afternoon.”
“Mom?”
“Your mother is safe,” Granduncle said. “Once the situation stabilizes, we’ll bring her here, but we don’t think it’s safe for her to travel right now.”
“How?” My father was healthy when I had seen him the day before.
“We’re not sure,” Granduncle said. “He and Richard were attacked in the city center.” Richard Findlay was George and Olivia’s younger brother. I found out later that while Granduncle Richard’s body was found, my father’s never was.
But that wasn’t what worried me at that moment. I had no idea where my father’s death left me and my mother. I was a bastard, something the kids at school were fond of telling me. My surname was James, granddaughter of Hunter James, the most reviled man on the planet. Were we no longer part of the Family?
Chapter 2
Twenty-two years later
The man sitting in my boss’s office was a mage. Or at least, he was dressed like a mage, which was a pretty good indicator. I didn’t recognize him.
Not that mages wore uniforms, but they all tended to flashy, expensive outfits. I didn’t know if their arrogance and flamboyance was a side effect of their magik, or if they picked it up along the way from their families and schooling, but I had never met a mage who was shy and retiring.
Witches tended toward the hippie-earth-mama-organic-farmer look. Vampires dressed in black or silver or red gothic-disco fashions, and werewolves seemed to favor either mountain man or Native American shaman outfits. Demons wore whatever, or nothing at all. The Fae dressed like the Fae.
The type of magik I had was fairly rare, but almost all of those I knew with it wore black leather and rode motorcycles. Except for Mary Sue. To say she was different was a world-class understatement.
My boss, Thomas Whittaker, was a mage, and I was pretty sure that his dark tailored suit trimmed in gold piping cost more than I made in a month. But he was a hundred years older than I was, so I had time to catch up. Not that I planned to be sitting in an office when I was one hundred thirty. The fantasies I indulged in when thinking of my future trended toward white sand beaches and pina coladas, with surfer-muscled cabana boys lighting my dope pipe and giving me massages.
“Ah, Danica,” Whittaker said, waving me into the room. “This is Mychal Novak. Mychal, this is Danica James, the magitek I was telling you about.”
Novak gave me the up-and-down about three times, and he didn’t look happy. I probably didn’t either. The Novaks? Me being called into a meeting with a scion of one of the Ten Families didn’t bode well for me having a happy time.
“Mychal is joining us from the drug division,” Whittaker said, drawing my attention from the pompous ass sitting in front of his desk. The way it was stated raised immediate fiery-red flags. No. No, no, no. Please no!
“Danica is one of our finest detectives,” Whittaker said. The red flags launched fireworks. “She also came over from narcotics, so you have a common background. I’m sure the two of you will work well together.”
My new partner. I stared at Whittaker, and he stared back.
After my last case, he had said I would pay for breaking protocol, not to mention a few regulations and a couple of laws. But I had solved it, when half the force had been stymied. That bought me a reprieve and the lack of a reprimand in my file. It also bought me a new partner, and Whittaker’s look dared me to object.
Considering Novak’s family connections, I assumed he must have screwed up somewhere if Whittaker was assigning him to me. If he was a wunderkind, he would have landed with another mage, one who was older and more established. One who was considered a good influence. Most cops looked at an assignment to be my partner as a form of punishment, if not a death sentence. The two deaths weren’t my fault, though. Idiots do stupid things.