Kelley Armstrong - 03 Dime Store Magic, WSZYSTKO

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DIME STORE MAGIC
Women of Otherworld Book 3
KELLEY ARMSTRONG
Prologue
TODD ADJUSTED HIS LEATHER POWER SEAT AND SMILED. Now, this was the good
life. Driving along theCalifornia coast, road stretching empty before him, cruise control set at
fifty, climate control at 68° F, Brazilian coffee keeping warm in its heated cup holder. Some
might say it'd be even better to be the guy lounging in the backseat instead of his driver, but
Todd liked being where he was. Better to be the bodyguard than the guy who needed one.
His predecessor, Russ, had been the more ambitious type, which may explain why Russ had
been missing for two months. Odds around the office watercooler were split fifty-fifty between
those who assumed Kristof Nast finally tired of his bodyguard's insubordination and those who
thought Russ had fallen victim to Todd's own ambitions. Bullshit, of course. Not that Todd
wouldn't have killed to get this job, but Russ was a Ferratus. Todd wouldn't even know
how
to
kill him.
Todd figured the Nasts were behind Russ's sudden disappearance, but that didn't bother him.
When you signed up with a Cabal, you had to know what to expect. Give them your respect and
your loyalty, and you had the cushiest gig in the supernatural world. Double-cross them and
they'd wreak their revenge right into your afterlife. At least the Nasts weren't as bad as the St.
Clouds. If the rumors were right, about what the St. Clouds did to that shaman? Todd shivered.
Man, he was glad—
Lights flashed in the side mirror. Todd looked to see a state patrol car behind him. Christ, where
had that come from? He checked his speedometer. Dead-on fifty. He made this trip twice a
month and knew the speed limit didn't change along this stretch.
He slowed, expecting the police car to whiz past. It stayed on his tail. He shook his head. How
many cars had zoomed by in the last hour, going seventy or more? Oh, but they hadn't been
custom-designed Mercedes limos. Better to pull over someone who looks as if he might pass you
a few twenties to avoid the hassle of a ticket. If so, they'd picked the wrong car. Kristof Nast
didn't bribe mere highway patrolmen.
As Todd put on his signal and pulled over, he lowered the shield separating him from his
passenger. Nast was on his cell phone. He said something into the phone, then pulled it from his
ear.
"We're being pulled over, sir. I had the cruise set at the speed limit."
Nast nodded. "It happens. We have plenty of time. Just take the ticket."
Todd raised the shield and put down his window. Through his side mirror he watched the
patrolman approach. No, make that patrol
woman
. A cute one, too. Slender, maybe thirty, with
shoulder-length red hair and aCalifornia tan. Her uniform could fit better, though. It looked a
couple of sizes too large, probably a hand-me-down from a male colleague.
"Morning, Officer," he said, taking off his sunglasses.
"License and registration."
He handed them over with a smile. Her face stayed impassive, eyes and expression hidden
behind her shades.
"Please step out of the vehicle."
Todd sighed, and opened his door. "What seems to be the problem, Officer?"
"Broken taillight."
"Aw, shit. Okay, then. Write me up and we'll get it fixed in San Fran."
As he stepped onto the empty road, the woman turned and marched to the rear of the vehicle.
"Can you explain this?" she asked.
"Explain what?"
As he walked toward her, his heart beat a little faster, but he reminded himself that there couldn't
be a serious problem. The Nasts never used their family cars for anything illegal. Just in case,
though, he flexed his hands, then clenched them. His fingertips burned hot against his palms.
He glanced at the patrol car, parked a mere two feet behind his. It was empty. Good. She didn't
have a partner. If things went bad, he'd only have to worry about the woman.
The officer stepped into the narrow gap between the cars, bent and checked something just to
the right of the left taillight. She frowned, eased out of the gap and waved at the bumper.
"Explain that," she said.
"Explain what?"
Her jaw tightened and she motioned for him to look for himself. He had to turn sideways to fit
between the cars. Couldn't she have backed up? She could see he was a big guy. He bent over as
much as he could and peered down at the bumper.
"I don't see anything."
"Underneath," she said curtly.
Bitch. Would it kill her to be polite? It wasn't like he was arguing with her.
He lowered himself to his knees. Christ, was this gap narrower than he'd thought or had he been
packing on the pounds? The front bumper of the patrol car pressed against his mid-back.
"Ummm, do you think you could back your car up a little?" he said. "Please?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this better?"
The patrol car pitched forward, pinning him. The air flew from his lungs. He opened his mouth
to yell for her to put it into reverse, then realized she was still standing beside the car… which
wasn't running. He grabbed the limo's bumper and pushed. The smell of burning rubber filled the
air.
"Oh, come on," the woman said, leaning over him. "You can do better than that. Put some real
firepower into it."
When he swiped at her, she backpedaled out of reach and laughed. He tried to speak, but could
only get enough air to grunt. Again he pushed against the bumper. The rubber stripping melted
against his fingers, but the car didn't budge.
"Only an Igneus?" she said. "The Cabals must really be hard up for half-demons. Maybe there's
an opening for me after all. Sit tight now, and I'll be right back."
Leah opened the driver's door and climbed into the limo's front seat. She looked across the rows
of buttons on the dash. Talk about electronic overkill. Now, which one—
The shield between the seats whirred. Well, that saved her the trouble.
"Did everything go—" Nast began.
He saw her and stopped. His hand lifted, just off his lap, fingers moving as his lips parted.
"Now, now," Leah said. "No spell-casting."
Nast's seat belt jerked tight, taking up the slack so fast he gasped.
"Hands out where I can see them," Leah said.
Nast's eyes blazed. His fingers flicked and Leah shot backward, hitting the dash.
"Okay, I deserved that," she said, grinning as she righted herself. She looked at the seat belt. It
loosened. "Better?"
"I'd suggest you seriously consider what you're doing," Nast said. He adjusted his suit jacket and
eased back into his seat. "I doubt this is a road you wish to take."
"Hey, I'm not stupid or suicidal. I didn't come here to hurt you. Didn't even hurt your bodyguard.
Well, nothing a few weeks of bed rest won't cure. I came here to make you a deal, Kristof—oops,
sorry. Mr. Nast, I mean. It's about your daughter."
His chin jerked up, eyes meeting hers for the first time.
"And now that I have your attention…"
"What aboutSavannah ?"
"Been looking for her, haven't you? Now that Eve's gone, there's no one to stop you from taking
what's yours. And I'm just the person to help you do it. I know exactly where she is."
Nast shot his sleeve up and checked his watch, then looked at Leah.
"Is my driver in any shape to resume his duties?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Questionable."
"Then let's hope you can talk and drive at the same time."
Chapter 1
Bewitched. Bothered and Bewildered
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