As promised, here is the first chapter of my new story set in the Giftless Chronicles universe. If you like it, I will be sending an extended sneak peek (more chapters!) to the people who’ve signed up to my email list on Mon, Jan. 14. Enjoy!
“I told you we’d have to kill them,” Emilee said as she ripped her sword out of the cowering werewolf’s leg. She pointed the sword at his chest, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “Would you care to accept our agreed-upon offer now, Ben?”
Ben yelped, then nodded. “I’m sorry, Emilee. It won’t happen again. We lost a lot of the pack trying to get this. The Knights—”
“Not my problem. You try that stupidity again, and Donovan and I kill even more of your pack.” Emilee glanced over her shoulder, her blond ponytail swishing to the side. “You see, Donovan, this is why you never make a deal with a werewolf if you can help it. They always try to rip you off in the end. Bunch of bottom-feeders.”
Donovan, a tall, dark, and muscular young man, dropped the female werewolf whose blood he’d been draining. She plopped onto the ground, her neck completely chewed through. His sleeve smeared her blood across his face in a failed attempt to clean it off. “Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned, “and the snack.” His teeth, currently two rows of razor-sharp teeth, vanished into a normal set.
Emilee smiled her beautiful white teeth back at him. “Well, if you’re finished playing around, Rybak could use your help with the artifact. It’s a little heavy. I need to pay Ben here what we owe him.”
Donovan nodded and cocked a dark eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am.”
She turned to Ben. “Shall we conclude our business? I have places to be. Walk over to my car, nice and slow. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Y-y-yes, of course.” He limped towards her car as quickly as he could, the sharp point of her blade poking in his back. Emilee always breathed easier after the shoe dropped with these deals. Werewolves might be carrion eaters, but you never knew when they might go feral, particularly during the full moon when they could transform into their powerful wolf-man hybrid forms. That’s also why she insisted they have their meeting during the crescent moon—less chance of getting overpowered. Not that the werewolves hadn’t tried. She glanced at the ten semi-hairy corpses that littered the ground.
When they arrived at her car, Emilee pushed a button on her key, and the trunk opened. “Go ahead and take the first briefcase. The money’s all there. We pay our debts.”
Ben placed the briefcase on the ground, popped the clasps, and lifted the lid. He checked the money, and nodded appreciatively. “Thanks for money. We—”
“You’re going to leave $50,000 because of that little stunt.”
Ben flinched, his stringy brown hair jerked in clumps against his head. “Yes, yes.” He picked up several thick stacks and handed them to her. He closed the case with a look of satisfaction. “Let me know if we can do anything else for you,” he said.
Emilee snorted. “I doubt we’ll need to hire you for a while. You tell that to your boss.”
He fidgeted, and held up the case against his chest. “Understood. By the way, what is that thing?” He lifted a bony finger towards a large, gray stone cube that Donovan and Rybak were lifting onto the truck.
Emilee had already turned her black-clad body away from him. “That’s definitely not something you need to know, if you want to live.” She left him standing there and walked to the truck-bed where Donovan and Rybak, a tall, thin, pale vampire, had finally placed it.
Rybak grunted. “Next time, bring more vampires. I don’t like all this heavy lifting.”
Emilee traced her hand appreciatively over a series of Anglo-Saxon runes etched into the artifact. She knew the other side had the same inscription in Latin. She’d been there when it was made.
“It’s been a while,” she said, smiling as her fingers slid into the grooves on the cold stone. “Strap this down well. I don’t want it sliding around during the long drive back.”
She was about to give them more instructions when her phone rang. She frowned as she saw who was calling, but she answered it with a sigh. “What now?”
“We have a new problem,” a gravelly male voice said with a thick Scottish accent.
“If I have to clean up another one of your messes…”
“This is not my fault, I assure you.”
Emilee sniffed. “Whatever. What’s the problem?”
“One of our residents is coming your way.”
“Really. Who and what is it?”
“I’ve emailed you a complete dossier. I wouldn’t waste any time on this if I were you. She’s very dangerous.”
“Like I was planning to?” She said sarcastically.
“She knows you from the old days.”
Emilee’s pale face turned even paler. “You mean…her?”
The gravelly voice rumbled in the affirmative.
“I’ll handle it.”
“You’d better,” he said.
Emilee finally regained her composure. “I will. I definitely will.”
She hung up and turned to Rybak and Donovan. “We have more work to do. This could wreck all our plans for The Return.”