Shadows & Dreams (Kate Kane Paranormal Investigations)
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Second rule in this line of business: be careful who you kill.
My name’s Kate Kane. And right now, I don’t know which is more dangerous: my job, or my girlfriend. My job makes me the go-to girl for every supernatural mystery in London. My girlfriend’s an eight-hundred-year-old vampire prince. Honestly, I think it’s probably a tie.
A few weeks ago, I was hired for a simple missing person case. Next thing I know, I’m being arrested for murder, a vampire army is tearing up London, and even my dreams are out to get me. Something ancient, evil, and scary as hell is on the loose and looking for payback. The vampires are in chaos, the werewolves are culling everything, and the Witch Queen can’t protect everyone.
Which means it’s down to me. And all I’ve got to hold back the shadows is a stiff drink, a quirky sidekick, my creepy ex-boyfriend, and the woman who left me for a tech startup. It’s going to be another interesting day.
half-concealed by shadows, had opened behind his platform. There was no fucking way I was letting him escape. At the time, I’d taken being tied up and nearly murdered as just part of being a teenager, but in retrospect, I was pretty pissed off about it. Figuring that, for all his flaws, aggressively protecting seventeen-year-olds was what Patrick did best, I left him to take care of Sofia and pegged it after the man in white. I ran down what was blatantly a secret passage, up a flight of
wedges, left the salad, and thought about calling it a day. Then I realised I should just go to Ashriel. I was so used to him being the guy who stood outside the Velvet in a tight shirt and occasionally got shot by nuns that I’d completely overlooked the fact that he was also about ten thousand years old and had known Julian for pretty much her entire unlife. And the Council had probably forgotten that too. Of course, the last time I’d seen him, I’d been kind of a dick, so I owed him an apology
one mystery only to realise that I hadn’t so much solved it as replaced it with another, slightly different mystery. I had a name for Susan but I still didn’t know what she was doing in Highgate, how she’d got there, or what she wanted. And I still hadn’t found Hugh. I got off at East Finchley and was slogging down Murdered Family Street, trying not to look at the police tape or think about the corpses, the brush with death, or my ex, when I heard a roar from behind me and a familiar-looking Fat
with remarkable depth and sophistication?” “In your own way.” “What do you mean ‘in my own way’? Is that no? Am I a can of Budweiser?” Julian reached up a hand and ran her fingertips over my cheek. “No, Kate. It’s complicated and hard to describe. You taste of desire and regret and passion and recrimination and hope and loss and power. It’s strongest in your blood, but I can catch a trace of it on your lips and on your skin.” “I have no idea what to say to that.” Julian twined her arms
took a closer look at it. Fortunately, it was cold enough that not many people were sitting outside and only the most dedicated rock fanciers were poking around this part of the shop. It was a fairly simple lock, mechanical not electronic. I guess Percy didn’t worry too much about mortals breaking in to nick his shit, which meant he probably had something really nasty waiting inside. I couldn’t see any subtle way to bypass the lock, short of trying every possible combination or ripping the damn