The guards told me that Erin was out for the evening—she was off to a movie with friends, so I left a message for her to call me when she got home, and pulled out of the driveway.
I glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock. It felt odd not be down at the Wayfarer at this time. I told myself not to, but I couldn’t help it. I drove by the ruins of my bar and parked outside the burned out shell. Slowly, after a moment, I got out of the car and picked my way through the rubble, which still hadn’t been cleaned up, and entered the hollow husk of the building. The sky had clouded over and the scent of rain hung heavy.
As I stood on the threshold of what had been my bar, my stomach lurched. The Wayfarer had become more than a business to me. It had become a friend. And now, that friend was as dead as Chrysandra. I started to turn away when I thought I saw something in the corner. I spun around, ready to defend myself, but there, in the murky pile of sodden wood and plaster, hovered a faint white light. I could swear a face stared at me from the mist, but then it vanished as lightning crashed overhead and the rain began to pound down in a steady stream. I gave one last glance in the corner, but now there was nothing there. Heading back to my car, I wondered if it had been Chrysandra’s spirit—was she out wandering? Or one of the others who had died? Feeling numb again, and weary, I climbed back in my Jag and headed for home.
The road out to Belles-Faire was slick, the water beading across it as the steady rain became a downpour. My wipers were going full steam and I was doing my best to see between the streams of water racing down my windshield. As I neared the turn that would take me to our house, a blur emerged at top speed from one of the driveways.
Fuck! Another car!
I slammed on the brakes and the Jag began to spin. As I drove into the skid, trying to regain control, the other car loomed large and I realized I was headed straight for it. Holy fuck, this was bad—this was so bad. I considered jumping from the car—I could do it and live, but then my Jag would become a missile bearing down on the incoming vehicle without any constraint.
So I did what I could. Muscles and reflexes took over as I attempted to gain control of the spinning car. Closer . . . closer, the other car was in front of me now and also skidding into circles. And then, everything blurred as my Jag carried me into a crazy dance directly into the other car’s embrace.
The crash was surprisingly muffled, but then a loud shriek filled the air as metal slid along metal and my airbag deployed. It was like being hit with a sledge hammer. As my Jag rolled to a stop, I realized that I was still sitting there, still intact. Instinct took over—and I forced my hands to unbuckle my seat belt, then struggled to open the door. I half climbed, half fell out of my car, stumbling out of the way. I’d seen too many movies where the cars went up in flames, but so far that didn’t seem to be happening. After a moment when there didn’t seem to be any flames, I patted myself down. I was okay. Jarred but all right. I turned my attention to the other car.
The heel on my boot was broken, so I limped over and yanked open the driver door, which was a mangled mess. My strength allowed me to pry it loose, though. With growing relief, I saw that the only occupant in the car seemed to be the driver—a youngish woman. But she looked unconscious, and I could only pray that she wasn’t dead.
PRAISE FOR THE OTHERWORLD NOVELS
“Spectacularly hot and supernaturally breathtaking.”
—Alyssa Day, New York Times bestselling author
“Yasmine Galenorn is a powerhouse author; a master of the craft who is taking the industry by storm, and for good reason!”
—Maggie Shayne, New York Times bestselling author
“Erotic and darkly bewitching . . . a mix of magic and passion.”
—Jeaniene Frost, New York Times bestselling author
“Yasmine Galenorn is a hot new star in the world of urban fantasy.”
—Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author
“Simmers with fun and magic.”
—Mary Jo Putney, New York Times bestselling author
“Yasmine Galenorn creates a world I never want to leave.”
—Sherrilyn Kenyon, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Yasmine Galenorn’s imagination is a beautiful thing.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Galenorn’s gallery of rogues is an imaginative delight.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Pulls no punches . . . [and] leaves you begging for more.”
—Bitten by Books
“It’s not too many authors who can write a series as long-lived as this one and make every book come out just as interesting and intriguing as the last, but Yasmine Galenorn is certainly one of them . . . Her books are always enchanting, full of life and emotion as well as twists and turns that keep you reading long into the night.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Explore this fascinating world.”
—TwoLips Reviews
“As always, [Galenorn] delivers intriguing characters, intricate plot layers, and kick-butt action.”
—RT Book Reviews (four stars)