Page 1 of Cold Curses

ONE

A claw swept across my face, and I felt the hot breath of hell. The monster had arrived.

I shook myself awake and stared into the eyes of my One True Enemy, who sat on my chest like a succubus. Sleek and black and glaring at me with unabashed loathing.

“Rawr,”she said.

“What?” I asked, trying to make sense of my surroundings. “And why?”

“That, Elisa, is a cat,” said the wickedly gorgeous shapeshifter currently in human form beside me. Connor Keene’s hair was dark and wavy, his body toned and muscles taut. One strong arm was slung over his eyes, and a smile curved his very kissable mouth. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

He might have been my future husband, but I gave him a look nearly as gnarly as the one I’d given the cat. “Why,” I began again, with admirable patience, “is itthiscat and why is it in this house?”

“Nothing to do with me,” he said. And gave Eleanor of Aquitaine an arch look. “Cat, why are you here?”

Eleanor of Aquitaine (not Eleanor or Elle, unless you wanted scratching) belonged to, or owned, Lulu Bell, my roommate and sorcerer. But we weren’t in the loft Lulu and I shared; we were in Connor’s town house. Only Connor “lived” in the town house,but we’d all taken up at least temporary residence there recently. Me, because he was my future husband. Lulu, because she was my bestie and I wanted her safe. Alexei Breckenridge, because he was Connor’s best friend and Lulu’s (boyfriend? friend? friend with benefits?) something or other. He’d stayed over at the town house during Chicago’s most recent supernatural disturbance and hadn’t yet left.

And now, apparently, we’d added the damned cat.

At my apparently rude question, said cat jumped off the bed and slunk into the bathroom.

“Demon visitation complete,” I said. At least until she made it into the closet and began running through our clothes like they were a joint car wash and scratching pad.

I glanced at Connor. “How are you feeling?”

He rolled his shoulder, testing. “A little sore, but I’ll manage.” Connor was the son of the North American Central Pack’s current Apex, Gabriel Keene. Connor had already taken down three challengers in his effort to ascend to Apex when his dad retired. And they kept coming.

“Nothing tonight, right?”

“Nothing tonight,” he said. “You?”

“Depends on the actual demons,” I said.

I was a vampire born into Chicago’s Cadogan House and an associate Ombudsman, one of Chicago’s human-supernatural liaisons. Less than a week ago, we’d sealed away Andaras (aka Rose, aka Eglantine, aka “Rosantine”), the first demon to enter Chicago in two hundred years. While she was no longer a problem, she’d triggered two of the wards in the city’s Victorian-era magical defense system. We were still trying to get the apparently single-use wards online again, and keep the city from being overrun by demons walking through the literal gap in our defenses. A few demons had made it through already; we were battling themas we found them now and sprinkling copious amounts of salt—a new addition to the Ombud operating procedure—across Chicago. We hadn’t had a night off since we’d brought the House back, and we were basically on call until the problem was resolved.

In addition to their penchant for troublemaking and violence, Rosantine had temporarily sent Cadogan House and its inhabitants—including my, Lulu’s, and Connor’s parents—into another dimension. Did not enjoy; did not wish to repeat.

Connor pulled me against him, enveloped me in warmth and magic and…him. “Just give me one minute,” he said. “And then you can yell at the cat.”

I snorted. “One minute,” I said, and smoothed a hand over his chest. He made a satisfied sigh and closed his eyes. There were shadows beneath them—faint, dark crescents brought on by too much magic and too much physical exertion.

“I know you don’twantto stop until you’ve claimed the throne,” I said. “But if youneedto stop before you can do that, it’s fine. We will find a different way to be.”

He was quiet for a moment, then smoothed a hand over my long, wavy hair. “A different way?”

“Well, we could join the circus. You could be the strong man in those little glittery shorts. I’ll do the trapeze. We’ll live out of an RV and eat take-out Chinese.”

“That’s quite a plan.”

“Maybe better as a backup situation. In the meantime, continue kicking their asses.”

“That’s the plan,” he said, and kissed my forehead.

The bedroom door, already cracked, was pushed open fully by the sorceress who stepped into the doorway. Her gaze searched the room, but she ignored us—entwined as we were.

“Your minute is up,” I said.

“Her Highness is in the bathroom,” Connor announced. “Elisa scared her off.”