“Do yourself a favor and read this book. This story is original and hard-hitting with terrific world building and some of the best characters I’ve read. Yum.” Patricia Briggs, author of the #1 NYTimes Mercy Thompson series
Kit Colbana—half breed, assassin, thief, jack of all trades—has a new job: track down the missing ward of one of the local alpha shapeshifters. It should be a piece of cake.
So why is she so nervous? It probably has something to do with the insanity that happens when you deal with shifters—especially sexy ones who come bearing promises of easy jobs and easier money.
Or maybe it’s all the other missing kids that Kit discovers while working the case, or the way her gut keeps screaming she’s gotten in over her head. Or maybe it’s because if she fails—she’s dead.
If she can stay just one step ahead, she should be okay. Maybe she’ll even live long to collect her fee…
And it was getting dark.
As we cut back up the street, I had to admit that Keeli, whoever she was, just didn’t want to be found.
Maybe we’d try to come back—
I heard the low, wasted rasp of a voice and looked down the alley.
Damon caught my arm.
I stopped and glanced at him. I wasn’t an idiot.
Popping my wrist, I turned to the sound of the voice and waited.
A shadow moved. “Hear you’re looking for Keeli.”
“You’ve got good ears.” Or you’ve just been in the area for the past few hours, I thought sourly.
The shadow crept closer. Light reflected off a man’s face before he eased back into the shadow.
“I can tell you where to find her…but it will cost you.”
Wow. What a surprise, that.
Fishing a bill out of my pocket, I knelt down on the ground and found a rock. I wrapped the bill around it and tossed it into the alley. “There.”
Silence stretched out. “That’ll do, kid. But…trust me. You don’t want me shouting this news. You’re looking for news on the Alpha’s boy, right?”
Damon tensed at my back.
“What do you know?” I asked, staring into the alley.
I could see him.
Dirty face. Young. Grimy.
He smiled at me.
“I know all sorts of things, girl,” he murmured.
My skin crawled, but if he knew something…
I slid Damon another look. His eyes were glowing. His hand gripped my arm. But when I stepped forward, he was right there by me.
They went for him first.
Through the roar of blood in my ears, I heard Damon swearing. That was kind of funny. There were four of them and he was cussing them out?
But then one of them howled… A death scream. One that made the skin on my nape crawl as I slashed through the air with my blade.
She was made like a rapier, but heavier. I could hack away for hours if I had to, and the fool in front of me was bleeding from more cuts than even I could count; he was either too weak or too underfed to heal them well. He made another lunge at me and I drove the blade through his heart, twisting it and jerking upward. Skin smoked as it met the silver and I watched as the life in his eyes faded.
Jerking my blade free, I turned, braced for another attack.
All I saw was Damon. Walking toward me with blood dripping off him, falling in fat drops from his fingers.
“Show off,” I muttered.
A flash of white appeared in his face. I almost thought he was smiling.
But that faint smile was gone in another second as shadows came rushing at us from all around.
I found myself shoved to the ground.
There was a rumbling sound—something I couldn’t identify.
And another sound—one I could.
The ground was shaking, I thought. As I pushed up onto my elbows, I saw a giant shape rushing into the alley.
Hell was about to break loose.
Then a cat roared and I heard somebody scream. Maybe it already had.
As the fighting raged over my head, I rolled to the side and flexed my wrist. My blade was gone. I managed to get my back to the wall of the busted, broken building behind me, using it for support and shadow as I surveyed the mess in front of me.
Five, six, seven—yeah. Seven scraggly wolves fighting Goliath and Damon. The wolves had shifted. Damon and Goliath hadn’t. Two wolves were trying to take Goliath down and he casually caught one, ripped its head off. My gut went a little queasy at the sight.
The second one didn’t fare much better.
Damon wasn’t quite so casual.
But for every one they took down, several more came crawling out of the shadows.
What the hell—
Panting for breath, I flexed my wrist and called my blade.
Off to the side, I heard a snarl.
The wolf came for me just as I turned to face it.
I never even got my blade up.
About Blade Song
“Darkly seductive men, a twisty mystery, and a tough-talking, ass-kicking P.I. heroine with unique powers make this romp through a paranormal Florida netherworld a definite winner!” Author Carolyn Crane, The Disillusionists Series