Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

of course. I knew a summoner must be at the heart of it, but I couldn’t be sure it was Tabitha.”

Brenner grunts with satisfaction. “Until now.”

Hillerman holds up a hand to tick off fingers like bullet points. “This is what we know. Arael Moaz wants to jump bodies. Tabitha Durran is his summoner. The identity of his necromancer remains hidden, but he or she is actively building a necromancy ring with young sorcerers from Detroit. And last, but not least, while Arael is out of commission, Beyona, his number-one enforcer, is commanding the East Side.”

I was following her list, all the way up to that last name, which I’ve never heard in my life. “Beyona? Who the hell’s Beyona?”

“You’ve met several times. Since you and Brenner killed her baphomet brother, ruined her dad’s big war with the cops, then killed her new young necromancer, I have to assume the both of you are now in the top spot on her hit list, which is something I would not wish on my worst enemy. Beyona’s soul is black as her feathers.”

Oh. My heart thumps once, then freezes.

Oh. Her.

My skin tingles with horror at the memory of the crow demon swooping down on me, cloaked against the black night sky. Twelve-foot wingspan. Razor-sharp beak. Talons that could wrap clear around my head. Each encounter I’ve had with the harpy—whether she was in woman or shifted form—has ended in me bleeding a lot and her getting away.

A sudden knock at the door sends me jumping three feet in the air with fright.

“Hotel security,” booms a gruff voice. “Had complaints of shouting.”

“We’re good here,” Hillerman calls out.

“Glad to hear it, but I’ll need to speak with somebody myself.”

Hillerman barks back, “It was just a movie. We turned it down.”

Another burst of knocking sends Hillerman stomping for the door, muttering obscenities. Just then, I realize that a warning buzz of energy in my gut accompanies the thumping of my heart.

Not only is that an underworld current I’m feeling, but one that I recognize with dread.

Snatching two fistfuls of Hillerman’s shirt, I jerk her away from the door just as it explodes with a rash of bullet holes.

The barrage of gunfire is deafening. Multiple automatic weapons spew a continuous stream of bullets through the door and wall. I’m sprawled at the foot of a couch. Hillerman scrambles across the floor to a set of drawers by the bed. Through a torrential rain of paint chips, shattered picture frames, and drywall splinters, I spot glimpses of Brenner trying to keep himself covered behind a mini fridge that is turning into swiss cheese. I cover my ears and scream at him, but nothing can be heard over the thunder.

Suddenly, there are muzzle flashes to my left, and my heart bottoms out with the thought that we’re surrounded—they’ve somehow come through the back of the hotel room. But no, it’s just Hillerman, returning fire with her service pistol. The effect is immediate. All firing halts. The ground stops shaking, and the world goes mute, except for a dull ringing in my ears. Hillerman sprints for the tattered door, literally jerks it from its hinges, and chases after the receding footsteps of our attackers.

Brenner starts after her, but I tackle him. “No, Jay!”

“She needs backup.”

“You’re shot, Jay! Look at you! Stay down!”

His chest is soaked with a sticky, dark stain. Terror stops my brain from functioning. I can’t think straight. It’s so much, he’s covered in it. He’ll bleed out in seconds.

“—not blood!” He shouts, finally getting through to me. “It’s not blood, Shayne. Look!” He points to the top of the mini fridge, where a single beer bottle remains intact. The rest have been shattered to bits. Fizzy beer suds cascade down the side of the fridge. I paw at Brenner’s shirt, searching for wounds. I don’t find any. The tiny fridge is pockmarked with two dozen dents, but Brenner is untouched. It’s a miracle.

“I’m fine, Shayne. Hillerman can’t go after them alone!”

He stands, but I pull him back down to the floor. “No, Jay! With what? Sticks and stones? We’re not armed. And I know what’s out there, Jay. I felt the wolf. The silverback. It’s East Side, which means her. She’s out there, just waiting for us, I know it.”

To my relief, Jay finally stops resisting me. “The harpy?”

“Please, Jay, just stay here with me. We’ve done enough, haven’t we? How many times have we dropped everything and gone running after them? We deserve to sit one out, don’t we?” I grasp desperately at his collar. “Don’t we?”

He regards me with soft eyes. This isn’t like me, and he knows it. I don’t think I like that look on his face. It could be sympathy and understanding, but it could also be disappointment, loss of respect.

“They won’t just go away, Shayne.”

“No, but they have, Jay. I heard the screech of tires. They’re half a mile down the road by now.”

He frowns at me. “You know what I mean. This will never end, until one side or the other is dead. It’s them or us.”

I spread my palm on his chest, savoring the feel of his heartbeat. He’s right, of course. The time for cuddling up in a warm bed and hiding from the world under our covers is over. This means war. “It’s them, Jay. I promise you, it’s them. We win this thing.” I jab my pointer finger at his chest. “I keep you.”

His eyes kindle with a fire to match my own. With the tenderest of touches, he sweeps a lock of red hair from my forehead, and he says, “I keep you, too.”

I’d kiss him if we weren’t covered in drywall dust and beer. So instead I just say, “And we keep this mini fridge.”

Brenner smiles at my now-predictable attempt to ease the tension.

“Seriously, Jay. I demand that you keep this mini fridge with you at all times.”

A noise out in the hallway shuts my mouth. Somebody’s coming. There’s angry shouting