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Authors: Kelley Armstrong

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BOOK: Otherworld Nights
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I took those few minutes, and a couple more. Then I made my move. Jeremy made his. We made two more and …

“Checkmate,” I said, moving my piece into position.

“That’s it, then,” Jeremy said. “I’ve been vanquished, and I will gracefully step aside.”

He smiled, his eyes meeting mine, and I swear everyone in the room had stopped breathing. Jeremy got to his feet, grinning now.

“And with that, our first order of Meet business is concluded. Having vanquished her predecessor in a challenge match, Elena Michaels is now Alpha of the North American Pack.”

I passed the morning in shock, leading the Meet as best I could, but a little uncertain, as if I expected Jeremy to take me aside at any moment and tell me it was just a practice run and he was still in charge. He didn’t. Jaime, Hope, and baby Nita joined us for a celebration lunch, which lasted well into the afternoon.

We napped after that. It took me a while to drift off, my brain still buzzing, but eventually the big meal did its work and I fell asleep. When I woke, the kids were gone. Clay was still beside me, snoring softly. As I lifted my head, I caught faint shouts and laughter from outside. I slipped from the bed and went to the window to see my Pack out on the lawn playing a game of touch football.

There was no sign of Hope and the baby—it was a little chilly for a newborn. Jaime must have stayed inside with them. So it was just the Pack. Even Karl was there, sitting on the ground off to one side. Normally he’d forgo the fun and games unless Hope insisted. When Kate zoomed past, his hand shot out, as if to grab her leg. She screeched and veered off and he smiled, calling something after her.

Morgan was another who usually stayed on the sidelines. Not by choice, in his case. I could tell he always wanted to join in. He just wasn’t yet comfortable enough to be sure of his place, and rarely touched the ball during games. He had it now, though, running as Logan guarded him. He made it halfway to the goal before Reese tackled him, sending him flying, the ball leaping from his hands. Kate grabbed it and ran off, chortling as Reese shot her a thumbs-up. She made it down to her end and scored, throwing her arms in the air and dancing.

Antonio got the ball next, only to lose it to Nick, who handed it off to Noah. As Noah raced down the yard, a figure shot from beyond my sightline and tackled him. For a second, seeing only dark hair, I was confused. It wasn’t Nick or Antonio or Karl. So who …

The figure grabbed the ball and threw it to Morgan and Logan, and as he did, he twisted and I caught a glimpse of his face.

“Jeremy?” I whispered, then I laughed.

Arms wrapped around my waist, Clay coming up behind me. “Hmmm?”

“Jeremy’s playing. That’s not a sight we’ve seen very often.”

“He isn’t Alpha anymore. Things will change.”

“Good. He looks like he’s having fun.” I leaned back against Clay. “I was just thinking that this reminds me of that time in Alaska, after Jeremy told me he wanted me to succeed him. I was watching everyone playing in the snow when I realized this was going to be my Pack someday.”

“And now it is.”

“And now it is,” I echoed.

“You’re ready. You know you are.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’re ready.” He kissed the side of my neck. “That’s your Pack down there, Elena. All yours.”

I was turning to hug him when Kate caught sight of us in the window and yelled. Logan motioned for me to open up. I did.

“Are you coming out?” he called.

“Yes!” Kate shouted. “We need you! Dad, you’re on my team!”

“Then the
Alpha
is on ours,” Logan said, looking over at her. “Which means you’re going to lose.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“We’ll be right there,” I called.

Clay nudged me aside and yelled, “Give us five minutes.” He glanced at me and grinned. “Maybe ten.”

He shut the window before they could complain. Then he pulled the curtains, and put his arms around my waist again.

“Does the Alpha have any orders for her Beta?” he asked, smiling.

“I’m sure I can think of a few.”

V
ANISHING ACT
 

I
f the world was a fair place, everyone who ever summoned a demon would explode the moment he said the first words. Preferably before he had the chance to pass on his dumbass DNA to anyone else. When does the summoning of the demonic
ever
end well? Well, not unless I’m the one doing it, but I’m a pro. Also, part demon. Which helps.

I peered into a half-finished apartment splattered with what remained of the guy who’d summoned this particular demon. There wasn’t a piece left bigger than my fist. While I was tempted to snap photos as a warning to other potential summoners, I had a job to do—namely, find the damned demon before he took a more innocent victim.

My business card says,
Savannah Levine, private investigator
. I’m still working on fulfilling the job title. At twenty-two, there’s a learning curve. I’ve been with the agency since I was sixteen, but until last year I was the receptionist. My guardians—Paige and Lucas—run it. My boyfriend—Adam—is the only other employee. It’s a family business, if your definition of family is flexible. Mine is.

My backup was taking a while to arrive. Not surprising, given that Adam was in Chicago, and Paige and Lucas were clear across Portland handling another case. I’d gotten the call about a potential demon-summoning and arrived here to discover that “potential” meant “happening right this moment.” That’s when I’d called Paige.

So I was slinking through a half-finished apartment complex by myself, trying to capture this demon before it found the exit.
Fortunately, it wasn’t very smart. Unfortunately, it knew I was tailing its ass … and it liked to talk.

“I just have one thing left to say to you, witch,” it yelled, its voice echoing down the hall.

“If only,” I muttered.

“Can you guess what it is?”

“ ‘Stop me before I kill again’
? Happy to oblige.”

It snorted. “I’m going to kill again. And again, and again. And do you know why?”

I stopped to zero in on its voice. “Because you’re a demon.”

“Because you don’t want me to. Because for all your tough talk, you’re as big a bleeding heart as Lucas Cortez. He ruined you, and now you’re just as weak as he is, because all I need to do is threaten to kill a few humans and you’ll …”

“Does it ever shut up?” a voice whispered in my ear.

A hand clamped over my mouth before I could cast a spell. I recognized the voice. I still clocked him in the chest.

Adam let out a soft
oomph
as I followed the blow with a kiss.

“You’re back early,” I said.

“Surprise.” He pulled back, then whispered, “You okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Because I just snuck up on you and didn’t catch an energy bolt in the gut.”

“Sorry. Yeah.” I made a face. “Distracted. Bad day to be on call alone.” Before he could ask what was distracting me, I said, “But I’m not alone anymore, so let’s put this bastard down and get home, where you can help me clear my head. It’s been a long—and lonely—two weeks.” I motioned toward the demon’s voice, still babbling. “Is there a subtype that kills by boring its victims to death?”

“Nope, I think it’s just this one. But at least we always know where it is.”

“And it’s too busy yapping to know I’ve got a friend. Let’s take advantage.”

Adam knows me better than anyone, and he was right that I was seriously distracted. As for what was distracting me …? It didn’t have a damn thing to do with demon hunting, so I’d shoved it aside, apparently less successfully than I thought. But now that Adam had called me on it, I would focus, because I sure as hell wasn’t letting Adam get hurt while I was angsting over a personal issue.

I sent Adam back outside, to come in another door and help me flank the demon. With us, partner-in-charge is a flexible position. Neither of us is what you’d call a born leader. I blame Paige. She’s been my guardian since I was twelve and Adam’s friend since they were kids, so both of us grew up letting her give the orders. Then she met Lucas, who’s just as alpha as she is. Adam and I eased into support positions, and though we’re happy there, one reason we like working together is that, while there’s comfort in following a competent leader, there’s more satisfaction in standing
beside
an equally competent partner.

So far, the demon had made no move to actually leave the building and make good on its murderous threats. Killing people isn’t nearly as much fun in practice as it seems in theory. No matter how creative you are—flaying, disemboweling, bisecting—the screams of the dying lose their appeal after a few millennia. Finding a mortal you can play a challenging game of hide-and-seek with? So much more interesting.

“Tell me again how you’re going to kill me,” I said as I made my way across a floor joist.

“Slowly.”

“Boring.”

“I will rip out your fingernails one by—”

“Clichéd.”

“I will stake out your body with a thousand cuts and let starving rats feast on you.”

“Impractical. Where would you find all these starving rats? Well, you could probably find
one
. Maybe even rabid. That would be better. The rat would die of rabies before it ate enough to kill me, but then I’d be infected and perish in horrible agony and madness.”

“You really are Lord Demon Balaam’s grandchild, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m my mother’s daughter.” I stepped off the beam and headed for a gap in the wall studs. “And my father’s.”

“True. Perhaps you aren’t such a bleeding heart after all. Perhaps we could even work together.”

I ducked through the gap into the room with the demon. “And deprive that poor rabid rat of its last meal?”

The demon froze. I almost did the same, because I didn’t see a demon. I saw a kid, maybe sixteen, pale and thin, with torn jeans and matted hair, and I had to remind myself I was looking at a shell. An empty shell, the boy who’d inhabited it already dead before the demon jumped in, his spirit hopefully enjoying an afterlife that made up for all the shit the world had dumped on him.

It still took a split second to “see” a demon. The gore helped. The blood from the guy who’d summoned it dripped from its filthy clothing and dirt-streaked face. Blood and bits of … everything else.

I cast a knockback spell. The demon stumbled … right into Adam’s waiting hands—he’d snuck in while I’d distracted the demon with chatter. Adam grabbed him by the shoulders, his fingers blazing fire. The demon howled. It wrenched free and slammed a fist into Adam’s gut.

They fought, a brawl enhanced by demonic strength and demonic fire. I concentrated on expelling the fiend—without letting it slip away into any other convenient hosts. Adam and I were protected by a tea Paige brewed. Foul stuff, but possession is a whole lot fouler.

I dispelled the demon back to the hell dimension without any
serious complications. Like I said, I’m a pro. Also? This demon was strictly minor-league, no match for Adam, the son of Lord Demon Asmondai. It helps that, unlike Balaam, Asmondai was somewhat fond of his offspring, particularly this one. Killing Adam would piss off a very powerful demon, and that protected him better than any brew.

So, as fights went, this one was relatively uneventful. I cast; Adam pummeled; the demon went home. And then so did we.

We went to my apartment because it was closer. Only two floors closer, in the same building, but after a two-week separation every extra step counts. We barely made it through the door with our clothes intact. Didn’t make it as far as the bed. At least I managed to get the front door closed, which always helps keep a good relationship with the neighbors.

We did get into the bedroom the next time around. Not the actual bed. It was at the far side of the room. Much too far away.

Afterward, we lay on the carpet, catching our breath.

“Missed you,” Adam said.

“I could tell.”

He laughed and pulled me on top of him. “Next time, you’ll take me up on that offer of a plane ticket for a mid-trip visit.”

BOOK: Otherworld Nights
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