Going Under

Praise for

Heart of Darkness

“Fresh, fun, fast-paced paranormal romance. Spellbinding magic, a wry-humored, gutsy
heroine and a sexy-as-sin hero put the charm on this witchy new series from multitalented,
always fabulous Lauren Dane!”

—
Lara Adrian,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Dane always delivers a steamy, exciting ride . . . She leaves me wanting more!”

—Larissa Ione,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Unputdownable . . . Great characters, wonderful world building and, as always, a
delicious romance. If you pick this book up, make sure you’ve cleared the afternoon.”

—Ann Aguirre, national bestselling author

“The world Lauren Dane has created here is big and bold.”

—
Reading the Paranormal

“I was riveted . . . Passion, magick and suspense . . . An instant favorite.”

—
Joyfully Reviewed

“The characters are compelling, the love scenes steamy hot, and the world she has
built sparks interest in the reader for more.”

—
Fresh Fiction

Further praise for Lauren Dane and her novels

“Pulse pounding . . . Dane delivers!”

—Jaci Burton,
New York Times
bestselling author

“Scintillating! . . .A roller coaster of emotion, intrigue and sensual delights . . .
I was hooked.”

—Vivi Anna, author of
A Wolf’s Heart

“Erotic . . . Sure to keep you reading late into the night.”

—Anya Bast,
New York Times
bestselling author

“In a word . . . amazing.”

—
RT Book Reviews

Berkley titles by Lauren Dane

Bound by Magick

HEART OF DARKNESS

CHAOS BURNING

GOING UNDER

The Brown Siblings

LAID BARE

COMING UNDONE

INSIDE OUT

NEVER ENOUGH

LAID OPEN

(A Berkley Heat Special Novella)

The Federation Chronicles / Phantom Corps

UNDERCOVER

RELENTLESS

INSATIABLE

MESMERIZED

CAPTIVATED

The Delicious Series

TART

CHERISHED

(with Maya Banks)

Anthologies

THREE TO TANGO

(with Emma Holly, Megan Hart, and Bethany Kane)

Going Under

LAUREN DANE

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3,
Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand,
London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland
(a division of Penguin
Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008,
Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd.,
11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ),
67 Apollo Drive,
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Books (South Africa), Rosebank Office Park, 181 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parktown North 2193,
South Africa • Penguin China, B7 Jiaming Center, 27 East Third Ring Road North,
Chaoyang District, Beijing 100020, China

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume
any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

GOING UNDER

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author.

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / February 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Lauren Dane

Excerpt by Lauren Dane copyright © 2013 by Lauren Dane.

Cover photo by Claudio Marinesco. Cover design by Rita Frangie.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or
electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy
of
copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized
editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

ISBN: 978-0-425-26210-8

eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-59245-8

BERKLEY SENSATION
^®

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY SENSATION
^®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

This one is for Fatin Soufan,

who is so much more than an assistant.

Acknowledgments

This is a pretty solitary job at times, but it’s the supporting cast of characters
in a writer’s life that really makes all the difference.

For my husband—who supports what I do, even when it makes me crazy and we eat far
too much take-out. Forever.

I’m so lucky that I have friends who’ve stuck with me no matter what. Who always get
my back, who tell me when I have spinach in my teeth, who keep me from hitting send
on that tweet and who let me complain to them instead of respond to hatemail. Megan,
thank you for being my BFF.

Speaking of friends—thanks go to my secret author illuminati ninjas at the List That
Shall Not Be Named.

Laura Bradford—my friend and my agent who holds my hand when I need it.

Leis Pederson, who is such a wonderful editor—thank you so much!

Chapter 1

BURNING
flesh created a smell unlike any he’d ever experienced. Sickeningly sweet, while at
the same time sticky with death and pain. It was a stench Gage had hoped to never
come across and yet, over the last months, he’d gagged on it more than once.

The house burned, casting orangey-yellow reflections all across the street. Over the
cars parked by people who’d simply wanted to slump inside their homes and relax until
they had to return to work the following day.

The red of the fire truck would delight children at any other time. But the flames
made that shiny, cheery red into something more sinister. Grime coated the faces of
the firefighters who’d been working to put the blaze out, but it didn’t hide the resolution
that there was nothing else they could do to save the three who’d been caught inside.

“The arsonists had to have used an accelerant of some type.” Lark, who still favored
the side where she hadn’t been shot, looked on, standing next to Gage. Her sister,
Helena, also watched.

This was supposed to be a visit to share information and new spells. And now they’d
have to attend yet more funerals.

“They best goddamn back off in my town or there’ll be hell to pay.” Helena wasn’t
scrappy and scary like Lark. But she had her own sort of strength, and Gage believed
the Hunter in charge of Gennessee’s security would indeed take out the murderous asshole
humans who’d set a house on fire while the people living there had been locked inside.

People. Others. Witches, to be exact. Five of them who shared the house and attended
nearby UCLA. Three of whom had been home in bed when the place had been set on fire.
Strategically. At the exits, so the witches inside couldn’t escape.

The firefighters had tried. Two had been hurt when part of a landing collapsed as
they’d valiantly attempted to get to the second story where the bedrooms were.

Impotent fury tightened Gage’s muscles so hard he had a headache. The stench of these
young men’s death would live in his system for days, though he believed the memory
of it would live far longer. Right next to the memory of how Edwina Owen, his former
boss, had looked after she’d been shot just weeks before.

“I don’t know if there’s a peaceful way out of this now.” Helena’s hands, fisted,
hung at her sides. Rage pulsed from her, wave after wave. Her magick sparked from
her body, even as Lark ran a hand up and down her sister’s back.

“I’m not sure there ever was.”

* * *

“SO
you understand, of course, that this . . .
attention
you’ve garnered of late is detrimental to the firm.”

Shafts of sunlight gleamed against the mahogany furniture in the room. Elegant. Chosen
with extreme care.

Molly cocked her head, resisting the urge to lick her lips. Her hands were clasped
on the tabletop before her. Her legs were crossed, back straight. They’d never know
just how hard she had to work to hold herself together.

“I understand many things, Paul. This is our business, after all. And you know as
well as I know, that things like this can be spun into positive attention.” Paul Weller
was another named partner. Weak. She had little respect for any man who spent so much
time being afraid.

Their business wasn’t for the weak. Or the scared. He was both. His family money and
eye for design were the only reasons he was fit to sit at the table with her.

“You can’t honestly believe this will blow over.” Angelica Reynolds spoke from her
place to Molly’s right. “I know things have been hard on you, but this is not going
away. And it’s costing us money.”

Hard? How many people had died? How many of the ones left were losing everything else?
Like she was right now. It took every bit of Molly’s control not to slap Angelica’s
face. Now
that
was hard.

“I built this firm. I was the top earner here last year. And the year before, and
the one before that too. The biggest clients are those I brought in. Whatever rabble
might be making a fuss out there, this is
my
firm. I made it into what it is today.”

Aaron took a deep breath before he spoke. “No one disputes that. But Angelica is right.
This isn’t blowing over. There have been riots in some cities. This morning Bright
and Cleen called and they’re going to pull their campaign if you’re not fired. That
makes four of our biggest clients all on the way out the door.”

The others at the table she could handle. But knowing Aaron Davidson wasn’t behind
her—well, that was a blow.

“Because of you,” Angelica added.

She smiled sweetly at Angelica before turning her attention back to Aaron. “I think
it would be best if you just spoke plainly. Otherwise this is a waste of my time.”

If she stayed remote and chilly, she might get through this. She couldn’t stop to
think about the cost of putting herself in that place over and over again for the
last month. Not then.

“We’ve prepared a generous severance package. Let’s call it a sabbatical to the public
so it will appear you’ve left for personal reasons. After all, that’s not so very
far from the truth, is it?” Aaron’s gaze skittered away for a moment and she successfully
kept her lip from curling. Her muscles burned from holding herself together.

The nausea shifted to a cold, numb emptiness.

“You’re terminating me? A named partner in a firm you all know I built. Based on what?”

“You did not disclose your . . . nationality to us. This is a direct violation of
your partnership agreement.” Paul stuttered the first part.

“My
nationality
is American. I was born here in Chicago, to my mother, who was also born here. In
fact, my mother’s family has been here eight generations.”

Aaron sent a glare in Paul’s direction. “Of course you are. To put it bluntly, you’re
in violation of several clauses in your contract. Your behavior has led to a stampede
of our top clients. You’re costing us money each day you’re still on the letterhead.”

“My
behavior
. And how so?” They would say it. She would not simply crawl out of there and let
them make her feel ashamed. This was bigotry plain and simple.

“You’re one of them and you never said! For god’s sake, you’re an abomination and
you had no business thinking you’d be allowed to stay here with what you are!” Angelica’s
face was red by the time she finished.

“Allowed? One of whom?”

“You’re a goddamned witch! How can we trust you now?”

“That is more than enough, Angelica.” Aaron’s mouth was in a hard line as he glared
at the other woman.

Molly looked to Aaron. “More than enough? Please, Aaron, you can get mad that she
says it, but by going along with this, you’re giving in to it. As far as I can see,
you all think it but she’s the only one who has the guts to say it. As for your charge?
My behavior has not changed. My
behavior
is to get up at five, exercise, come to work where I spend ten to twelve hours each
day doing my job. And then I go home. There is nothing in my
behavior
that could be considered a violation of my agreement with the firm.” She could add
some new things to that routine like funerals, being hassled by the cops, being outed
by human supremacist groups. Good times.

Aaron heaved a sigh. “The negative attention you’ve garnered because of your . . .
whatever you’d call it, status, identity, has impacted the bottom line of the firm.”

“To be clear, because of my genetics, something I’ve kept private because it was none
of your business, is the reason I’m being fired. Or rather, because I did not give
in to the blackmail of the hate group who finally outed me after stalking me, my friends
and family, I’m to be terminated from this firm. You’re firing me because of who I
am. Which, by the way is who I was two weeks ago. Two months ago when you had me on
your boat, a boat I remind you that you were able to buy after the success of a campaign
I created.”

Aaron’s face colored. “You have been an integral part of this firm. I’ll be the first
one to state that. I hate what they’ve done to you. I’m sorry for it. But this is
business.”

The last three weeks had gone by in a sickening haze. She’d gotten that proverbial
late night call, telling her the man she’d considered her father had simply disappeared
and was presumed dead. Not only that, but his oldest daughter, Molly’s best friend,
sister and the girl who’d taught Molly how to put on eyeliner, had also disappeared.

Worse, then came the insanity of the reaction from humans as the world of the Others
had been exposed.

Little by little, everything she’d known and counted on to keep her anchored and safe
had been stolen from her. Funerals were a weekly occurrence. The human-only hate groups
had begun to agitate and turn the fear the humans had into rage. Her clients, people
she’d known and worked with for years had begun to ease away. There’d been write-in
campaigns to get her fired. Her work suffered. Her home had been vandalized multiple
times. Several of her neighbors had put up anti-Other signs in their yards and would
ignore her, or worse, call her names as she left for work each day.

Work at the public relations firm she had built with Aaron was the one thing she’d
counted on, even as her clients had turned skittish in the previous weeks.

That internal wall she’d built inside began to crumble and she saw clearly for the
first time in a very long time.

“
Business?
Your giving in to bigots who’d be siccing dogs on small children for daring to use
the whites-only drinking fountain is
just business
?”

“It’s not the same.” But Aaron didn’t hold her gaze.

“It
is
the same. Just because you want to be able to celebrate your bigotry and call it
something else doesn’t mean anyone with an actual brain should allow you to do it.
If you’re ballsy enough to do it, be ballsy enough to call it what it is. Own it like
an adult, but don’t expect me to shuffle off in shame because
I’m
not the one who should be ashamed. You all should be. I have done nothing wrong.
In fact, of all of us sitting here at this table, as we’re talking business and all,
I’m the one who pays the bills. I’m the one who brings in clients.”

Paul didn’t meet her gaze. “This is uncomfortable for us all. I don’t see why we can’t
remain civil.”

“I’m sure you don’t consider the fact that you’re firing me because I’m a witch to
be uncivil. But I do. And as such, I only give respect where it’s due. And none of
you deserve it.”

“Don’t you at least want to see the details of your severance? We’re trying to take
care of you. Even in these difficult times.” Aaron pushed a piece of paper at her.

“You’re not trying to take care of me. You’re trying to cast me off because of my
genetics. This is not acceptable. You know this, Aaron. Even if Angelica is too greedy
and stupid, you know this. Even Paul knows this.”

Molly didn’t touch the paper but she saw the figures on the first page. Enough money
to get her through the next year or so. Help her start her own firm, or relocate.
Still, it was money to shut her up after they cast her out.

But the walls were down and all she felt was anger. No, it was past anger now. She
was into rage territory and she was seeing things very clearly.

“You should send these to my attorney. He’ll be in touch later this morning.” She
stood, brushing her skirt to rid herself of the wrinkles. She’d never let them know
how hurt she was. She was better than every single person in that room. And she’d
never let them forget it.

Aaron attempted a charming frown. “You can’t mean to fight this. It’ll only bring
more negative attention to the firm.”

He was quite fortunate she didn’t go with her instinct to slap his face for that.
“You’re truly going to sit there—in a chair
I
chose—and tell me I should accept your bigotry like a good little second-class citizen
to save you embarrassment? You’re out of your mind.”

“Be reasonable, Molly. You built this, as you’ve said. Would you really tear it down?
For what?”

“For what?” She blinked at him, so incredulous it was a wonder she didn’t start laughing
hysterically. She felt her power deep in her belly and panicked for a moment that
she’d do something she didn’t plan. That would be very bad.

So, instead of going all Carrie on them and setting the place on fire, she took a
deep breath and centered herself, just as Rosa had taught her all those years ago.
Once she’d gotten her power under control again, she squared her shoulders and glared.
“I’m defending myself against a completely unwarranted attack on my person. And for
what? Because I’m a witch? What if I had brown skin? Or my religion was different?
That’s not acceptable so why should this be? And why on earth would I stand for it?
Do you think I built this place so small-minded hatemongers could simply shove me
out and reap my profits? You have another think coming if you believe I’ll simply
pack my office up and go quietly.”

She’d been utterly and completely numb for weeks. Now she was awake and they’d better
run.

The bitterness and hate rolled off Angelica in waves. “You can’t win and you know
it. Now that we know about you and your kind, we’ll make sure you can’t.”

Molly smiled at Angelica and then over at Aaron. “See? Just business.”

Molly wouldn’t give anyone the pleasure of rushing away. She turned her back on that
sorry trio and walked to her office on shaky legs.

Her assistant was waiting for her there, her features expectant, then falling when
she caught sight of Molly’s demeanor.

“Is it true? Oh my god, it is.” Paige threw her hands up as she began to mutter and
pace. “Those assholes!”

Well, this was at least better than the last reception she got so Molly eased into
her chair to watch her assistant of five years pace and bitch about the other partners.