Darklands Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Nancy Holzner
vampire posing as a friar. Her long raven hair, wide brown eyes, and shapely curves had been popping eyes and turning heads for more than six centuries.
I was glad to see it. A month ago, Juliet had nearly died in an attack by the Old Ones, shadowy, ancient super-vampires who wanted to move beyond undeath and into eternal life. The OldOnes were responsible for the zombie virus, which they’d unleashed on Boston as an experiment. That experiment had sent its human victims through death and back into life, but the Old Ones didn’t want to become zombies; they wanted to be gods. They kept working on their magically enhanced virus, using Juliet and other vampires as their lab rats. The other vampires had died, dissolving into piles of dust. Juliet had survived thanks to Aunt Mab, who’d used her personal talisman to restore Juliet’s life force. When Juliet’s comatose body started to disintegrate, Mab performed a life-giving ritual that didn’t just save Juliet; it restored her. She said she felt better than she had in centuries.
Mab’s bloodstone was her personal object of power. She didn’t know what its long-term effects might be on Juliet. But so far, so good.
Juliet cocked an eyebrow at me, taking in my torn, bloody clothes. “Rough night?”
“You might say that.” I hobbled over to the closet. When I tried to put my jacket on a hanger, I realized the garment hung in ribbons. Guess I wouldn’t be wearing that jacket again. I pulled it off the hanger and dumped it in the trash.
“I warned you.” She shook a deep-red-nailed finger at me. “High school students are more dangerous than any demon. I’ve had a few scrapes over the centuries, but I’d rather be chased off a cliff by an angry mob than set one foot across the threshold of an American high school. Those places are
scary
.”
“It wasn’t the students, it was…” I sighed. “I’ll tell you later. I need to clean up.” Feeling like an old lady, I shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. My injured leg was taking my weight okay, but as feeling came back, so did the pain. Each step felt like that damn Harpy was gouging out another chunk of flesh.
I showered, washing off blood and sweat and the stink of Harpy, then rebandaged my various cuts and gashes. Gingerly raising my sore leg, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants.
The pants and a sweatshirt made me feel as comfy as I was going to get tonight. I went back to the living room, where Juliet had stretched out on the sofa. I slumped into an armchair, taking the weight off my aching leg.
“Do you think we need one of those?” Juliet asked, nodding at the screen. A smiling woman was applying some kind of torture device to a poor, innocent egg. “It scrambles the egg
inside
the shell, then cracks it open automatically. No mess.”
“You don’t eat eggs.” And scrambled eggs were beyond my cooking skills. Even with a contraption that prescrambles them for you.
“I’m just hungry,” she pouted. “They’re late delivering my dinner again.”
Normally, Juliet would be hunting at this time of night, or hanging out at Creature Comforts, flirting with norms who’d ventured into a monster bar in search of a little supernatural excitement. But not tonight. And not any night for the past week. Whenever I saw Juliet, it was always the same: She sat on the sofa, one leg tucked under her, the other leg sporting a clunky electronic anklet.
My roommate was under house arrest.
For nearly two months, she’d been wanted in connection with the murder of a Supreme Court justice in Washington, D.C., a murder for which Alexander Kane—prominent paranormal rights attorney, werewolf, and my boyfriend—was briefly the main suspect. The Old Ones had murdered the judge, and at the time Juliet had been in their thrall. She’d managed to break away, going on the run from both the Old Ones and the cops.
A week ago, she’d located Colwyn, the Old Ones’ power-mad leader. She made the feds an offer:
I was glad to see it. A month ago, Juliet had nearly died in an attack by the Old Ones, shadowy, ancient super-vampires who wanted to move beyond undeath and into eternal life. The OldOnes were responsible for the zombie virus, which they’d unleashed on Boston as an experiment. That experiment had sent its human victims through death and back into life, but the Old Ones didn’t want to become zombies; they wanted to be gods. They kept working on their magically enhanced virus, using Juliet and other vampires as their lab rats. The other vampires had died, dissolving into piles of dust. Juliet had survived thanks to Aunt Mab, who’d used her personal talisman to restore Juliet’s life force. When Juliet’s comatose body started to disintegrate, Mab performed a life-giving ritual that didn’t just save Juliet; it restored her. She said she felt better than she had in centuries.
Mab’s bloodstone was her personal object of power. She didn’t know what its long-term effects might be on Juliet. But so far, so good.
Juliet cocked an eyebrow at me, taking in my torn, bloody clothes. “Rough night?”
“You might say that.” I hobbled over to the closet. When I tried to put my jacket on a hanger, I realized the garment hung in ribbons. Guess I wouldn’t be wearing that jacket again. I pulled it off the hanger and dumped it in the trash.
“I warned you.” She shook a deep-red-nailed finger at me. “High school students are more dangerous than any demon. I’ve had a few scrapes over the centuries, but I’d rather be chased off a cliff by an angry mob than set one foot across the threshold of an American high school. Those places are
scary
.”
“It wasn’t the students, it was…” I sighed. “I’ll tell you later. I need to clean up.” Feeling like an old lady, I shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. My injured leg was taking my weight okay, but as feeling came back, so did the pain. Each step felt like that damn Harpy was gouging out another chunk of flesh.
I showered, washing off blood and sweat and the stink of Harpy, then rebandaged my various cuts and gashes. Gingerly raising my sore leg, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants.
The pants and a sweatshirt made me feel as comfy as I was going to get tonight. I went back to the living room, where Juliet had stretched out on the sofa. I slumped into an armchair, taking the weight off my aching leg.
“Do you think we need one of those?” Juliet asked, nodding at the screen. A smiling woman was applying some kind of torture device to a poor, innocent egg. “It scrambles the egg
inside
the shell, then cracks it open automatically. No mess.”
“You don’t eat eggs.” And scrambled eggs were beyond my cooking skills. Even with a contraption that prescrambles them for you.
“I’m just hungry,” she pouted. “They’re late delivering my dinner again.”
Normally, Juliet would be hunting at this time of night, or hanging out at Creature Comforts, flirting with norms who’d ventured into a monster bar in search of a little supernatural excitement. But not tonight. And not any night for the past week. Whenever I saw Juliet, it was always the same: She sat on the sofa, one leg tucked under her, the other leg sporting a clunky electronic anklet.
My roommate was under house arrest.
For nearly two months, she’d been wanted in connection with the murder of a Supreme Court justice in Washington, D.C., a murder for which Alexander Kane—prominent paranormal rights attorney, werewolf, and my boyfriend—was briefly the main suspect. The Old Ones had murdered the judge, and at the time Juliet had been in their thrall. She’d managed to break away, going on the run from both the Old Ones and the cops.
A week ago, she’d located Colwyn, the Old Ones’ power-mad leader. She made the feds an offer:
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