“YOU DEFINITELY NEED TO CHECK OUT THIS SERIES.”—Literary Escapism
Praise for the Cassie Palmer Novels
Hunt the Moon
“This isn’t just urban fantasy—it’s storytelling at its best.”
—SFRevu
“I am as surprised as anyone to have book five of a series stand me on my head and dazzle me, and even more so as I realize I could pick up Hunt the Moon and these characters would do it again and again and again.”
—All Things Urban Fantasy
“A fascinating world. . . . The author has reinvented her writing style for the series and raised the bar of expectations high. Her story transcends mere urban fantasy and veers toward epic fantasy.”
—LoveVampires
“Pritkin, Mircea, and Cassie create a triangle that will keep the reader wondering who will still be standing [at] the end. The author does a great job at making us love both love interests for Cassie and finding that we are also at a loss as to which would be the better man . . . an excellent story.”
—Night Owl Reviews
Curse the Dawn
“A truly riotous ride. . . . Chance adds plenty of twists and obstacles to her first-person series that blends time travel, magic, vampires, and more. The pace is rapid and the exploits are wild. Chance aces another one!”
—RT Book Reviews
“The urban fantasy equivalent of a summer blockbuster . . . quite the satisfying urban fantasy adventure.”
—SF Site
“Outstanding. The characters pull you into their world and won’t let you go. . . . The dialog is funny; the story is fast-paced [and] full of intrigue, with really hot sex scenes.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“A dark theme tempered with humor, action, and romance comes alive in Curse the Dawn, one of the best of the Cassie Palmer series.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“Chance is outstanding in her punchy delivery. . . . Swift action sequences, tight plotline, a memorable cast, some rather steamy and heart-thumping scenes . . . are all reasons to love this book and indeed this series.”
—The Truth About Books
Embrace the Night
“Cassie is a well-rounded character, and the intensity and complexity of the plot puts her through her paces physically, emotionally, and psychically.”
—Publishers Weekly
“If you thought Touch the Dark and Claimed by Shadow were action-packed, well, buckle your seat belt. . . . Lara Croft would have a hard time keeping up.”
—SFRevu
“Quick pacing and imaginative use of some old mythologies blend into a captivating read that will leave readers clamoring for more.”
—Monsters and Critics
“Ms. Chance continues to expand her well-built world with time travel, fantastical beings, steamy romance, and the nonstop action her wonderful series provides. This is a fast-moving read that’s hard to set down.”
—Darque Reviews
“A wonderfully refreshing step away from the cookie-cutter regime of the usual vampire novels . . . this novel has it all. Believable characters, descriptive settings, and thrills and chills kept this reader on the edge of her seat.”
—Roundtable Reviews
Claimed by Shadow
“A nonstop thrill ride from beginning to end, a wildly entertaining romp with a strong, likable heroine.”
—Rambles
“Ms. Chance is a master . . . a series well worth getting hooked on.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A great writer of supernatural fantasy that is on a par with the works of Kim Harrison, Charlaine Harris, and Kelley Armstrong.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Magic aplenty populates this fast-moving, rather dark tale of power, corruption, double-dealings, and painful attractions as Cassie comes to grips with her new role in this follow-up to Touch the Dark.”
—Monsters and Critics
Touch the Dark
“A grab-you-by-the-throat-and-suck-you-in sort of book with a tough, smart heroine and sexy-scary vampires. I loved it—and I’m waiting anxiously for a sequel.”
—New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs
“A really exciting book with great pace and a huge cast of vivid characters. This is one of my favorite reads of the year.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Charlaine Harris
“Exciting and inventive.”
—Booklist
“Fast and heavy on the action, Touch the Dark packs a huge story. . . . A blend of fantasy and romance, it will satisfy readers of both genres.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A very promising start to a new series, and an exceptionally entertaining first novel.”
—Locus
“A wonderfully entertaining romp with an engaging heroine. Here’s hoping there’s a sequel in the works!”
—New York Times bestselling author Kelley Armstrong
“Karen Chance takes her place along[side] . . . Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, MaryJanice Davidson, and J. D. Robb to give us a strong woman who doesn’t wait to be rescued. . . . The action never stops . . . engrossing.”
—SFRevu
“Combines humor, action, and the paranormal into a scintillating story that will leave readers begging for more.”
—Romance Reviews Today
BOOKS BY KAREN CHANCE
THE CASSIE PALMER SERIES
Touch the Dark
Claimed by Shadow
Embrace the Night
Curse the Dawn
Hunt the Moon
Tempt the Stars
THE MIDNIGHT’S DAUGHTER SERIES
Midnight’s Daughter
Death’s Mistress
Fury’s Kiss
Tempt the
Stars
A CASSIE PALMER NOVEL
KAREN CHANCE
A SIGNET SELECT BOOK
SIGNET SELECT
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014
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penguin.com
A Penguin Random House Company
First published by Signet Select, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC
Copyright © Karen Chance, 2013
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
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ISBN 978-1-101-61690-1
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Praise
Books by KAREN CHANCE
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Epilogue
To the readers who helped this series make it all the way to book six! As a thank-you, please see my Web page, karenchance.com, for two novella-length stories written to accompany this book. They are prequels entitled “A Family Affair” and “Shadowland.” Neither is required for understanding or enjoying this novel, but they’re fun, they’re free, and they give more insight into certain areas of Cassie’s crazy world. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!
Chapter One
“You gots big.”
The small voice came from the even smaller girl in the doorway. She was hard to see, shimmering in the night like the moonbeams falling through her, and overwritten by the hazy, graffiti snarl of ghost trails weaving through the air. I felt some of the muscles in my neck unclench.
And then tense back up when a too-loud voice called from a nearby room, “Cassie?”
I refrained from jumping—just. Abrupt movements might scare her, and I couldn’t afford that now. “Be right there,” I said softly, smiling reassuringly at the ghost girl.
“What?” the voice asked, louder this time.
I looked behind me to see the wild white head of my partner in crime, Jonas Marsden, poking out of an office door. With the crazy hair and the pink cheeks and the Coke bottle glasses, he looked like Einstein on acid. But, despite appearances, he deserved his position as the de facto leader of the magical world. Jonas headed up the powerful Silver Circle, the largest organization of magic workers on earth.
But great mages are still human, and Jonas’ ego wasn’t taking the aging thing well. Like when he refused to put a hearing spell on himself because the rest of us just talked too softly. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for him.
“There’s no need to whisper,” he bellowed. “I assure you, the shield will hold.”
“So you keep telling me.” He was talking about the sound-deadening spell he’d cast to keep any noise we made from filtering out into the rest of the house. That was kind of important, since we were hovering on train-wreck territory here. Of course, that pretty much described my life lately.
My name is Cassie Palmer, and I’m the newly crowned Pythia, aka the world’s chief seer. That sounds a lot more impressive than it is, since so far it’s mostly involved giving taxi rides through time to strange people, in between almost getting killed. As I was currently a couple of decades back, trying to rob my old vampire master along with a guy who made eccentric look boring, today was pretty average.
But my nerves didn’t think so.
Maybe that’s why the spotted mirror over the fireplace showed me short blond curls that looked like I’d been running nervous fingers through them, a face pale enough to make my freckles stand out starkly, and wide, startled blue eyes. And a T-shirt that proclaimed Good girls just never get caught.
Let’s hope so, I thought fervently.
Fortunately, as vampire courts went, this one was pretty lax, being run by a guy who had been the Renaissance equivalent of white trash. But Tony had one hard-and-fast rule: nobody missed dinner. I wasn’t sure why, because vampires don’t need to eat—food, anyway. And most don’t, since any below master level, the gold standard for vamps, have nonworking taste buds.
Maybe it was tradition, something he’d done in life and still clung to in death. Or maybe he was being his usual asinine self and just wanted to enjoy his dinner in front of a bunch of people who mostly couldn’t. Either way, it meant that Jonas and I should have an hour before anybody interrupted us.
Assuming the spell held, anyway.
Jonas didn’t look too worried. “You could dance an Irish jig in here,” he boasted, “in clogs, and no one would hear.”
“No, but they might feel the reverberations—”
“In this?” He gestured around at the creaks of Revolution-era floorboards, the lash of rain against centuries-old windows, and the intermittent lightning that cracked the sky outside, sending shadows leaping across original plaster walls. Tony lived in a historic farmhouse in the Pennsylvania countryside, which was usually picture-postcard pretty.
This wasn’t one of those times.
“Or scent us,” I added.
“From across the house?” Jonas scoffed. “They’re not superhuman.”
I blinked. “Well, actually—”
“You give your vampires too much credit, Cassie,” he told me severely. “In a contest between them and a good mage, always bet on the mage!”
Well, that’s what I’m doing, I was going to point out. But I didn’t because I wanted him to shut up already. I’m not usually twitchy, but then, I don’t usually try to burglarize the booby-trapped office of a vampire mob boss, either. Not that I was doing that now. That was Jonas’ thing. I was here for something else.
“Okay,” I said, glancing nervously back at the girl.
Mercifully, she was still there, even a bit more substantial now. The old doll she dragged around by the hair had taken on a pinkish hue, and her dress, part of which disappeared through the floor, was now a pale shade of blue. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding.
The ghost’s name was Laura and we’d played together as kids, back when I called this place home. Only I’d grown up and she . . . well, she never would.
It’s one of the hard facts about ghosts: when you die, you pretty much stay the same way you were in life. Meaning if you’re a one-armed man, you’re going to be a one-armed ghost; it’s just the way the energy manifests. Mostly, they learn to roll with it Beetlejuice style, throwing severed heads at unsuspecting tourists—the ghostly term for cemetery visitors—or trailing disemboweled intestines after them like a gory train.
Humor tends to take on a macabre bent after death.
But the downside is that, if you die at five years old, you stay five. You might learn new things, acquire new skills, even gain wisdom of a sort. But it’s a kid’s wisdom. You don’t suddenly start thinking like an adult.
Even after more than a hundred years you don’t.
That was a problem, since I needed information, and I needed it badly. Specifically, I needed to talk to my mother, who had once been Tony’s guest, too. But who had died when I was younger than Laura appeared now.
Of course, visiting a dead woman should be easy enough for a time traveler, right? Only I never get easy. I’d spent the better part of a week looking for her, and come up with zilch. But I had to find her; a friend was in trouble and Mom was the only one who might know how to help him. And there was a damned good chance that Laura knew where she was.
But if I remembered right, getting her cooperation was likely to be tricky.
“Hey, Laura—” I began casually.
“What’s he doing?” she asked, dragging her dolly over into the wedge of light coming out of the office.
“Nothing. It’s fine,” I whispered, trying to keep her out here, where we could talk in private.
So, of course, she w
ent right on in.
I closed my eyes.
I’ve been able to talk to ghosts for as long as I can remember, far longer than I’ve been doing my current crazy job. But it’s like with people—they talk to you only when they want to. Of course, they usually want to, since most ghosts are confined to a single place and don’t get many visitors. Well, many who notice them, anyway. So if Jonas hadn’t been here, I’d probably have been getting my ear chewed off.
But he was, and of the two of us, he was clearly the more interesting.
I accepted the inevitable and followed her inside.
Jonas must have done some dismantling, because nothing shot, stabbed, or grabbed me as I passed through the door. He looked pretty okay, too, if you ignored his habit of picking up random things and sticking them in the billowing mass he called hair. Or, in this case, on.
“He looks like Honeybun.” Laura giggled. She was talking about my childhood pet rabbit, the one we’d basically shared since animals can sense ghosts a lot better than people can.
And she wasn’t wrong.
“Did you find something?” Jonas asked, looking up from sorting through the mess on the desk. And sporting two outrageous tufts of white hair escaping from either side of an old fedora. It didn’t match his outfit, and he hadn’t had it on when we arrived. But I’d already discovered that trying to figure out Jonas only made my head hurt, so I mostly didn’t.
“He’s just fluffy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Uh, no. Not yet,” I told him, trying to surreptitiously shoo Laura back out the door.
She crawled under the desk instead.
“Done already?” Jonas asked, looking at me over the tops of his glasses as I crawled after her.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Are you certain you didn’t overlook anything? It’s quite small, you know.”
“Pretty sure.”
What he wanted wasn’t in the outer office. I knew that because I knew where it was, but I needed him to take a few minutes to find it. Minutes that I could use to pry some secrets out of Laura. But Jonas wasn’t looking like he felt like giving them to me. For once, Jonas was looking focused.