Shadow Fall
Authors: Seressia Glass
Praise for this incredible series by Seressia Glass
Shadow Chase
“Loved it … a page-turner.”
—Urban Paranormal Blog (5 stars)
“A great deal of fun.”
—Fantasy Lit
“The plot is exceptional … The world-building in this series is incredible.”
—Book Series Review
Shadow Blade“Takes you on one of the wildest rides of the year.”
—Huntress Reviews
“The suspense is almost overwhelming, the intense action palpable. Glass creates a story you’ll want to keep reading, even when there are no more pages.”
—
Romantic Times“
Shadow Blade
brings energy to the urban fantasy scene with its engaging but damaged lead characters and their deceptive, evil enemies.”—Scooper Speaks
“All the elements … magic, deception, redemption, romance, and victory.”
—Best Fantasy Stories
“A fresh and unique source of magic in the urban fantasy genre.”
—All Things Urban Fantasy
“Compulsively readable … The plot, with danger and darkness, but also a hint of romance, should surely satisfy.”
—
Affaire de Coeur
(5 stars)
ALSO BY SERESSIA GLASS
Shadow Blade
Shadow Chase
Available from Pocket Juno Books
| Pocket Books |
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Seressia Glass
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address
Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department,
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Juno Books/Pocket Books paperback edition August 2011
JUNO BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Wildside Press LLC used under license by Simon & Schuster, Inc., the publisher of this work.
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Cover illustration by Craig White
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4391-5878-4
ISBN 978-1-4391-7706-8 (ebook)
To the readers, the dreamers, and the secret believers.
Thanks so much for the encouragement and the inspiration.
To editors Paula Guran and Jennifer Heddle, and my agent, Jenny Bent.
All of you are appreciated more than you know.
Acknowledgments
I’ve learned quite a bit during the course of researching the Egyptian and archaeological background for this series. I want to especially thank the Michael C. Carlos Museum at Emory University in Atlanta; the American Research Center in Egypt; the Cairo Museum; Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, University College London; and Theirry Benderitter and Jon Hirst of Osirisnet.
Any mistakes in this book are solely my own.
FALL
Chap†er 1
K
ira drew her Lightblade, but didn’t bother calling its power. She didn’t need it, not against this opponent. “If you think you can take me,” she taunted, “come and get me.”
Her adversary crouched low. “I will take you, Kira Solomon,” he assured her. “Soon enough.”
They circled one other, each looking for the other’s weak spot, an opening to rush into and seize advantage. The world fell away as Kira focused all her attention on defeating her antagonist. Adrenaline surged through her, pushing her senses to full alert. Muscles hummed with the anticipation of action, of fight, of victory.
He rushed forward, a dark blur, ducking beneath her instinctive swing. A shoulder to her sternum sent her crashing to the floor. With her free hand, Kira grabbed him and pulled him down, shoving her feet into his stomach to send him catapulting over her. She spun to cover him, but he rolled out of reach. He scrambled to his feet, hands up in a defensive position.
She grinned and straightened, sheathing her Lightblade. He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t want to keep your tiny knife in hand?”
“Since you have your little blade sheathed, I wouldn’t want you to accuse me of having you at a disadvantage,” Kira said, making a great show of unbuckling her dagger’s leather rig and sliding it off her thigh.
His lips thinned. “There is nothing ‘little’ about my dagger. Or me, as well you know.”
She knew, all right. If she forgot—she’d had a lot on her mind of late—Khefar was there to remind her. He had refreshed her memory almost every night since they had returned from London, and she had yet to become accustomed to being intimate with another human being after living so long apart.
“Why, Khefar,” she said in mock wide-eyed innocence, “I didn’t realize you were a size queen.”
“A
size queen
?” He frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Right. Never mind.” It was easy to forget that Khefar wasn’t your regular modern extreme fighter, but rather a four-thousand-year-old, near-immortal Nubian warrior. It wasn’t as if he ran around in a breechcloth carrying a bow and quiver of arrows. Kira smiled as an image sprang unbidden to her mind. Too bad they’d had other things occupying their time around Halloween. Khefar in period dress at a costume party would be a sight to—
“Hey!” She landed flat on her back on the mat. Khefar sat atop her, hands on her shoulders, knees pressing her arms down to the padded exercise floor to keep her immobilized. The black tank shirt and baggy gray sweatpants he wore only served to emphasize his wiry, lanky physique. His biceps were cut, tightened by the force he exerted to keep her still, his dark, dark mahogany satin skin so very touchable.
“You got careless, Kira,” he admonished her. “I saw the exact moment your thoughts wandered.”
She relaxed for a moment, smiled up at him. “Would you like to know why my thoughts wandered? What I was thinking about?”
His gaze flickered, only a moment, but it was enough. She swung her legs up, wrapping her thighs about his neck before dragging him down. With his knees still on her shoulders, it had to be a painful position—his back arched, knees over-flexed. He didn’t move.
“Hey,” Kira complained, “you’re not even trying to get away.”
“Why should I?” he said, his voice strained. “I’m enjoying myself immensely right now.”
“Ahem.” A discreet cough came from the vicinity of the room’s entrance.
Kira looked up. Anansi stood in the doorway of their exercise room, a bemused smile on his face. At first glance he looked as he always did: an older black man of indeterminate age with more salt than pepper to his thick, wavy hair. But now his usual dark suit looked more custom-made than off the rack and lived-in, and he wore a diamond-studded cravat instead of a tie. “If I may interrupt for a moment?”
Heat suffused Kira’s cheeks as she let Khefar go. He rolled away and stood with supple grace and then extended a hand to help her to her feet. “What do you want, old man?” he demanded, glaring at the demigod. “And why are you dressed like that? The gala’s not until later tonight.”
“Easy, Medjay,” the trickster said, holding up his hands. “I’ll let you return to your foreplay soon enough. I simply wanted to say thank you for the invitation to the gala, but I won’t be attending. I’ve come to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Kira echoed, refusing to react to the demigod’s barb. Sure, most—okay, all—of her workouts with Khefar usually ended with them horizontal on the mats or the weight bench, but still … “What do you mean, good-bye?”
“Your domestic bliss has inspired me,” Anansi told them. “I’ve decided to pay a visit to my lovely wife, Aso.”
“You’re still married?” Kira blurted out, surprised. She knew the folktales sometimes made mention of the spider god’s wife, but considering how much time Anansi spent away from wherever he considered home, she’d assumed the more domestic tales to be myth instead of fact.
