Series: Hollows (#16)
Format: Hardcover, 464 pages
Release Date: June 14, 2022
Publisher: Ace
Source: Publisher
Genre: Fantasy / Paranormal
Rachel Morgan must keep her friends close—and her enemies closer—in the next Hollows novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Kim Harrison.
Rachel
Morgan, witch-born demon, has one unspoken rule: take chances, but pay
for them yourself. With it, she has turned enemies into allies, found
her place with her demon kin, and stepped up as the subrosa of
Cincinnati—responsible for keeping the paranormal community at peace and
in line.
Life is . . . good? Even better, her best friend, Ivy
Tamwood, is returning home. Nothing’s simple, though, and Ivy’s not
coming alone. The vampires’ ruling council insists she escort one of the
long undead, hell-bent on proving that Rachel killed Cincy’s master
vampire to take over the city. Which, of course, Rachel totally did not
do. She only transformed her a little.
With Rachel’s
friends distracted by their own lives and problems, she reaches out to a
new ally for help—the demon Hodin. But this trickster has his own
agenda. In the end, the only way for Rachel to save herself and the city
may be to forge a new understanding with her estranged demon teacher,
Al. There’s just one problem: Al would sell his own soul to be rid of
her. . . .
Kim Harrison's Trouble with the Cursed, is the Sixteenth installment in the authors Hollows series. Witch-born demon Rachel Morgan and her friends fight to protect the inhabitants of the city of Cincinnati--including humans, werewolves, vampires, demons, witches, elves, and pixies. For the past 4 years, Rachel has been a licensed runner (bounty hunter) tracking down those who break the law. For the past 4 months, Rachel and vampire Pike Welroe have been running Cincinnati and it's mostly gone smoothly.
In fact, one could say that their partnership has been a godsend for Rachel knowing that she doesn't have to do all the heavy lifting alone. Rachel is also the Subrosa for Cincinnati responsible for keeping the paranormal community at peace and in line. Rachel's troubles begin right out of the gate. From the D.C. undead vamps wanting to send someone to Cincinnati where they believe Rachel killed the last person who was sent there. She didn't. No spoilers. They are also keeping Ivy Tamwood and her lover Nina hostages.
So, in order to see for themselves that Rachel didn't kill the former Master of Cincinnati, they're sending a powerful undead named Finnis to shake things up. Finnis, like every other villain that happens to come to Cincinnati, truly has no clue as to how far Rachel will go in order to save her friends, and her city. Finnis also holds the key to the undead vampires future in his hands. But Rachel's problems are just getting started.
Certain Demons are trying out their newly experienced freedoms which Rachel helped with and her supposed friend Hodin. Hodin seems to have his own agenda which doesn't help Rachel with her issues with the arrival of Finnis, or the fact that Al seemingly is helping her behind the scenes, or the fact that Dali is creating his own brand of chaos that is ending up spilling over to Rachel since she's the one who is supposed to keep the peace in the city, or the fact that it seems that everyone around Rachel, including Trent, is busy doing other things instead of standing by her side against the rising tide.
Without any hesitation, I love the fact that Al is back in Rachel's life. Over the course of this series, you could say that the pair have had a rocky relationship with Al affectionately calling her Twitchy Witch. I love the fact that Jenks may have found new love. It's been a long time coming. I would love to know if Rachel is going to keep teaching. She's a riot. Without any spoilers, I will say that the book does end on a sort of cliffhanger that will warm the cockles of your heart. Trust me.
CHAPTER
1
It
wasn't even ten yet, and the cicadas were already screaming in the hot,
muggy air. Uncomfortable, I fidgeted, my sandals scraping the
time-warped porch boards as I impatiently waited for Pike to pick the
lock of the dilapidated Victorian he'd tagged as an unregistered blood
house. It was stifling under the overhang and scraggly street trees. My
camisole and shorts seemed woefully inappropriate to be kicking vampire
ass in, but Pike had promised it was a five-minute thing. In, out, iced
coffee and Band-Aids before noon.
Traffic was a distant
hum, the bars and restaurants a comfortable two blocks away. It was a
perfect location for a blood house where consenting vamps could finish
out their evening or, more often, where others could hide from unwanted
attention. Working on all levels, blood houses gave the highly charged,
highly dangerous vampires a secure place to indulge and find
refuge-often at the same time.
The age-old dichotomy
didn't make sense until you saw it in action, but vamps, both living and
dead, had an unfailing need to protect the distressed even as they
endangered those they professed to love. When it went bad, the abuse
went bone-deep, fueled by the trust these houses engendered. Why it was
up to me, a witch-born demon, to ferret out and "gently" correct the
problem was a long story with a short motive. I didn't like bullies.
Tired,
I tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. The humidity was breaking
through my anti-curl charm and the red mass was frizzing right out of my
braid. "I thought you had a key," I muttered, and Pike, crouched at the
lock, softly swore.
"Yeah. Me too." Pike's low, intent
voice pulled an unexpected pulse of libido from me, and I shifted to put
more space between us in the hopes he wouldn't notice. It was the
pheromones he was unconsciously kicking out, not a real attraction. It
didn't help that Pike wasn't your usual living vampire, his unerring,
classic beauty still showing under a disturbing number of scars. There
was a hint of gray in his short-cut hair, evidence of his early-thirties
maturity. His light shirt and slacks were cut for ease of movement, his
languid grace held a definite pull, and when his eyes went black?
Da-a-amn.
But it was Pike's confidence that elevated him
beyond the usual living vampire, and I was secure enough in my
relationship with Trent to admit that he was . . . well . . . mmmm. Most
vamps were confident on the outside, but Pike was truly comfortable in
his skin. It set him apart, as did his numerous scars, most of which had
been gained from his brothers trying to kill him as opposed to bedroom
fun. Working under my protection was safer than him being on his own,
but that's not why he had agreed to do it.
In contrast, my
few scars were recent, almost hidden behind what passed as a tan for
me. I missed my old ones-scars, that is-the ones that had real meaning.
My almost-dormant vampire bite hidden under the curse-virgin skin tended
to drive the undead wild, something that wasn't actually advantageous
in my line of work.
"I got up early for this," I grumbled,
tucking my sunglasses into my bag before gingerly sitting on the edge
of the dusty porch chair. The residential street wasn't busy, and my
eyes narrowed as I tracked the passing car, frowning as the black Crown
Victoria parked at the curb.
Doyle.
Pike
glanced up, his incredible senses attuned to my sudden unease. Doyle
worked for Inderland Security, an I.S. detective now if I remembered
right. That the living vampire was watching us break into an
unregistered, and therefore illegal, blood house didn't bode well.
"So . . . did you ask me to help this morning because Doyle is following you?" I said.
Frowning,
Pike returned to picking the lock. "He's not following me. He's
watching the house. Same as I am." Pike's weight shifted as he tried a
new angle. "He's probably waiting for us to do the hard part, then swing
in and take credit for it. The I.S. wants this place shut down as much
as we do."
True. I stood, hands on my hips as I stared
provocatively at Doyle. Vampires were weird contrasts. The undead ones
did ugly things thinking it was love, the living ones endured ugly
things thinking it was love, but they both had a protective streak a
mile wide. True, it was a little warped in the long undead, but no one
liked underage predation, and that's why we were here.
Unlike
the I.S., I didn't need three days on a missing person's report before I
opened up a can of ass-kickery. So when Kip, Pike's number one, had
failed to report in after tracking three missing teens here, Pike had
called me. I didn't know the small woman well, but Pike both trusted and
relied on her.
"You think Doyle will give us trouble?" I
said as Doyle grinned, showing me his short but sharp canines as he took
a picture of us. "We have probable cause."
"No." Pike
frowned. His eyes lost their rim of brown as his pupils dilated, and the
delicious scent of vampire incense rose in the stifling air, reminding
me of when I had been younger and stupid. Still smells good, though, I
thought, a pheromone-induced quiver of angst and desire rising before I
stifled it. Sensing it, Pike smirked. I liked working with Pike, even if
resisting his vampiric charms was often a challenge. I loved Trent, but
finding someone to kick ass with was difficult, and Ivy had been stuck
in DC for months.
"Maybe I should have brought Jenks," I
muttered, and his smile vanished. But truth be told, I didn't need my
usual backup for this. It was part rescue, part reminder to a few uppity
vamps that the law was there for the living and dead. Still, I was
beginning to regret telling Jenks to stay home. Standing outside a door
this long looked unprofessional.
"You need some grease?" I said as I checked my phone for the time.
"I've got this." Frustrated, Pike angled the pick another way.
"I can check to see if there's a back door," I offered, wanting a coffee.
"There's no back door," he said flatly. "Will you shut up so I can concentrate?"
Well,
excu-u-u-uuse me. I stood, going to the dirty window to put a hand to
my face to peer in at the front room. Jenks could have been in and out
by now, verifying the floor plan that Ivy would have dug up online
somewhere. But this was Pike's run, not mine. I was here to help. If we
ever got in. Frustrated, I checked my phone again, attention returning
to Doyle as I tucked it in my pocket. Damn it, he was laughing. "Maybe
Doyle has a key," I said sourly.
Pike exhaled heavily. "Yes. Why don't you go and ask Doyle if he has a key."
Ooh,
sarcasm! I'd had enough, and as the cicadas sang in an irritating
whine, I strengthened my grip on the nearest ley line and mulled over
which "find" spell would work best. Nearly all worked on auras, and the
undead didn't have much of one unless they had just fed-and then it
wasn't even theirs. Most finding charms didn't work well underground,
either, which was where this was going to end up. I knew it. Many of
Cincinnati's original homes had sub-basement floors, and this was one of
Cincy's older "ladies."
The ley line slipped into me like
sunshine, warm and tingling to my toes. I let the unfocused energy pool
up in my chi, then spindled a wad of it in my thoughts before I let the
energy find a path back into the ground and make me part of a circuit.
"Invenio," I whispered, feeling the energy take direction and the charm
invoke. With the force of creation running through me, I opened my
second sight.
Distorted as if by flame, the image of an
open field in the ever-after wavered into existence, overlaying reality
in a disjointed double vision. The front room became indistinct, almost
like colored chalk lines. I wasn't exactly seeing through walls, but
they didn't exist in the ever-after, and the effect was the same. Pike's
aura was obvious beside me, but nothing else. The upstairs was clear as
well. If Kip or the kids she was trying to find were here, they were
downstairs.
"We're clear aboveground," I said as I let my
second sight drop-and the image of an open field vanished and reality
returned. I held on to the line, though, letting it continue to run
through me like a second sun. "Excuse me," I said as I picked up the
porch chair. Gut tight, I slammed it into the big front window. Glass
shattered inward in a satisfying feeling of give, and then the chair
rolled across the faded, crushed carpet to thump into the wall.
Smirking, I reached in to unlock the door from the inside.
Pike slowly got to his feet, his dark eyes going from the broken window to me. "You are no fun when you're in a hurry, you know that?"
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