Authors: Chandra Ryan
Prequel to Bond Betrayed
Izzy has lived between two worlds her entire life—one filled
with magic and darkness, the other populated by mundane humans. She was born
into the magical world of the Community. But sexy, forbidden DEA agent Jacob
belongs to the other. He has no idea her world even exists.
But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t noticed her. They’ve worked
together for the past six months, attempting to bring down her drug-dealing
half brother while driving each other crazy with pent-up desire. But now that
it’s time to say goodbye, they both find it impossible to let go.
After one passionate night together Izzy realizes her
mistake. She can’t bring him into her world. She has to end things before she
gets too attached. When he refuses to leave, she must find a way to guide him
through the darkness.
Inside Scoop:
In this scorching urban fantasy, ink is
thicker than blood.
A Romantica®
paranormal
erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave
Isabella looked up at the dark, gloomy night sky and
grimaced. Most of the time she saw her abilities as a curse but tonight they
were a blessing. She shifted her eyes so there was only a sliver of green iris
encircling her large, black pupils. It wasn’t much but at least she could see
what she was walking into now.
“We’re in position.” The voice from the earbud cut into her
thoughts and reminded her why she was here. It was kind of unsettling to have
the disembodied voice talking to her, but she forced herself not to look around
for the Drug Enforcement Administration agents. It wouldn’t matter even if she
did. She wouldn’t be able to find them. They always managed to blend in. There
would be no sign of them in the nearly deserted park.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she followed the
concrete ribbon that cut through the manicured grass. At the top of the hill,
it branched. One path continued straight but she needed the path that veered
off to the left. It was only after she took the turn that she could finally see
Middle Bridge. Nestled in a valley between hills, it loomed ahead of her as a
dark, inky shadow against the gray backdrop of the park. In the spring there
would be a river flowing under it. But the summer’s heat had dried it up months
ago, leaving nothing but a dusty bed.
That was her destination for the evening. More accurately,
it was the sporadic bazaar held on the dried bed that interested her. There, a
soul could find just about any drug or weapon her heart desired.
As she stepped off the sidewalk, her heel slid on some loose
dirt and she wished she’d worn sneakers. Not that they would’ve matched her
micro skirt and cropped t-shirt, but they would’ve made walking easier.
And running
, a small voice in the back of her mind
whispered.
Pushing the thought away, she forced herself to stand
straight as she continued toward the bridge. She felt completely alone in the
dark even though she could hear the distant buzz of conversation drifting
through the air.
“I think you’ve wandered off the path.”
The man’s voice behind her made her jump even as she felt
the spark and knew it was another member of the Community who’d approached her.
They were the same race and that would make this a lot easier.
Turning to face him, she smiled stiffly as if insulted by
the delay. He was tall and burly, every inch of exposed skin covered in the ink
of family and alliances, but she refused to let the sentry intimidate her. “I’m
not exactly out for an evening stroll.”
“Then why are you out?”
She thought she picked up the hint of pipe smoke tickling
the air around them. It smelled like the kind of smoke that tended to make a
person more paranoid. “I need to purchase a couple of things.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “What kind of things?”
“Hard to find things.” She nodded to the bridge as she said
the words.
“I haven’t seen you around here before.”
This was where a human sentry would have proved difficult.
“Really?” She locked eyes with him as she changed her eye
color to pale, milky-white and her hair from red to jet-black. She only gave
him a second to adjust to her new face before lengthening her hair and changing
her skin tone to a pale-brown. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.” She shifted
back to her original form before he had a chance to reply.
“So you shift.” He glanced down at her bare forearms,
looking for her tattoos. “But I don’t see any ink.”
It was true. At her age she should have several tattoos
identifying her alliances and she should be willing to show them. But her years
with her father had taught her how to play the part of the spoiled princess and
she was counting on that to get her out of her current jam. “I don’t like
needles,” she said with a toss of her hair.
“I need some sort of ID before I can let you through.”
She huffed angrily and put on her best entitled expression.
“I’m Isabella Rathe, as in Dominik Rathe’s daughter. I’m sure his name rings a
bell.”
She hoped he focused more on her last name than on her
first. If not, he might be suspicious of her long absence. Fortunately, with
all the Rathe spawn running around, it was a pretty safe bet the sentry
wouldn’t recognize any particular one.
“You should at least have a crow, then.” He pointed to her
forearm where her father’s family mark should be.
“I told you, I don’t like needles.” She turned away from him
defiantly. “But honestly, do you think there’s a soul out there stupid enough
to lie about being a Rathe?”
He studied her carefully, his eyes sweeping over the length
of her body. “That would be really stupid. But it’d also be really stupid for
me to let you by on nothing but your word.”
“Jesus. Here,” she cried, holding out her driver’s license.
She knew that as ID it wasn’t ideal, but it should still be sufficient.
Especially when faced with the temper tantrum she was throwing. “It’s a good
thing my father is out of the country or I’d make sure he talked to you about
your manners.”
He looked at her license for a moment then shrugged as he
handed it back. “Okay, I’ll let you through. But you should get over your fear
of needles or come with someone willing to vouch for you next time.”
“I’ll consider it.”
Walking past him, she nearly smiled at the convenient lie.
She wasn’t afraid of needles. Anyone who knew her track record with rehab would
know that. And she did have a tattoo. A very simple sunset rested on her upper
arm, but she couldn’t show it here. The last thing she needed was a blood feud
in the middle of her brother’s territory.
Half brother
, she corrected quickly. She and Alex had
the same father but different mothers. Not that it really made a difference.
Both women had met with the same fate.
Thinking about her mother’s death, she laughed bitterly at
the irony. She’d cursed her mother’s decision when she’d been a child. And
she’d cursed the agency that’d failed to protect her. But now she was following
in the woman’s footsteps. She was doing the exact thing that had gotten her
mother killed. Not only was she going after a powerful member of the Community,
but Izzy had also trusted her protection to the same government bureaucracy
responsible for failing her mother.
That’s where the similarities stopped, however. She didn’t
have children to worry about. No one would be thrown into foster care if she
died. And there’d be no small child left crying, alone and afraid of the dark,
if she didn’t return.
A shiver of dread made its way up her spine at the thought.
Even after all this time, the memories were still vivid. And they were still
painful. At least, the memories before she’d started using the drug dust were.
The ones after were vague at best. But what she could remember made her
childhood nightmares look like daydreams.
Closing her eyes tightly, she prayed to forget. But it was a
prayer destined to go unanswered. There was no way to forget her past.
Especially on nights like tonight. Nights where she openly courted it.
She forced herself to continue walking as she pushed the
memories to the back of her mind. Her past didn’t matter. Tonight was about the
future. Or, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
She was almost to the bridge when she finally began to make
out the dim, bluish glow of the torchlight. The centuries-old lanterns were the
only light used because their soft illumination was difficult to see from a
distance and they didn’t damage any of the offered merchandise, which could be
delicate in nature.
As she thought about the merchandise, she began to wonder
what the DEA would do with some of the more temperamental items if they fell
into the agency’s hands. It would be difficult for them to sort and store a lot
of what was sold here. But she reminded herself that was somebody else’s
problem, not hers. She already had enough to deal with, without borrowing
trouble. Not only was she supposed to find Elliot Minshouse but, if she were
lucky, she’d be coming face-to-face with Alex again.
She’d have loved the chance to bump into her father as well.
But that didn’t seem fated to happen tonight. She’d have to make do with what
she could get. And she planned on doing more than making do. She was going to
savor every moment.
Yes, she’d be happy to turn in the brother who’d introduced
her to drugs. The fantasy was clear in her mind, right down to the look on his
face as the agents slipped the cuffs on his wrists. She couldn’t wait for the
moment he realized she’d been the one to set him up. It was all that she’d
wanted for the past seven years.
“Remember, nobody moves until she’s found Minshouse.” The
crisp voice from the earbud broke into her thoughts and burst her bubble of
happiness.
Unfortunately the DEA didn’t share her hunger for Alex’s
arrest. They’d arrest him if he were in the middle of the bust. And they’d told
her they had enough to make the charges stick this time. But they’d been quick
to make it clear that Elliot was the primary target tonight. They were
convinced his ties to terrorist organizations far outweighed whatever crimes
Alex had committed. They were wrong.
Not that she’d told them that. She’d nodded sternly at the
orders. But it’d been a lie. She wasn’t going to let her half brother slip
through her fingertips just to make the agency happy. No, if Alex were here
tonight, she’d go after him. Orders be damned.
Reaching the structure, she braced herself for her reentry
into the underworld of society. She took one last deep breath and then plunged
into the milling crowds packed under the graffitied shelter of the bridge.
The bazaar was actually a well-organized event, for what it
was. The contraband was divided into three sections—weapons, drugs and
paraphernalia. But she was only interested in the drugs. That’s where Elliot
and Alex were bound to be.
As she walked through the crowd, she glanced at the booths
of weapons. There were powders, potions, blades, handguns and assault rifles
but nothing called to her. Which was probably for the best—given the
circumstances.
She’d almost made it to the next section when a familiar
face grabbed her attention. He was wearing tight jeans and a black t-shirt
instead of the suit that she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, but there was
no mistaking his smile. Or his lean, muscular physique.
As if hearing her thoughts, he looked up. His gaze caught
hers for a second before he began making his way toward her.
“Isabella.”
“A—” Realizing she was about to call him Agent Phinney, she
stopped and shook her head to clear it. “Um, Jacob. This is a surprise.” She
couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten past the guards.
He smiled rakishly as he ran his fingers through his short
black hair. It was a gesture she’d become endeared to over the past six months.
“I know, small world.”
“What are you doing
here
?” She’d expected to see him,
but not until the bust had gone down. And, try as she might, she couldn’t think
of a single good reason for him to be at the bazaar. Admittedly it was
difficult for her to think of anything at all given his proximity. He was so
close she could smell the spicy mint of his shampoo and her arm would brush
against his chest if she swayed ever so slightly.
“I’m on a date.”
The words snapped her out of her haze. He didn’t seem to
notice though. He was too busy staring at the voluptuous redhead several people
ahead of them whose singed fingertips hinted at fire manipulation.
That explained security. With someone like her as a date,
they’d have let him through, no questions asked.
“Funny, she isn’t what I’d imagined as your type.” Izzy
realized that he could never be hers, not really, but she didn’t like the idea
of him being with someone else. Especially when that someone could manipulate
fire. In her experience, pyros were one of the more dangerous types. They
tended to run hot in all things—including their emotions. “She looks kind of
dangerous.”
“Although I do go for the dangerous type,” he whispered with
a playful wink, “you’re right. She just happened to be in the right place at
the right time—here.”
Hearing his words, a possible reason for his presence became
painfully clear. “Wait. Are you checking up on me?”
He looked genuinely hurt. “I thought you knew me better than
that. I’m here as backup, nothing more,” he whispered softly.
He’s human, he’s human, he’s human…
The warning
echoed softly in the recesses of her mind. But as his fingers tucked a lock of
her hair behind her ear, it faded into silence.
“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you on
my watch,” he said.
Her heart raced at the tenderness of the touch and the
warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her fingers itched to reach out to him,
to touch him, but she resisted. “Well, then, I’m sure I’m in good hands.”
His eyes sparkled and his lips twitched as if poised for a
reply, but fortunately his
date
had made her purchase and was calling
his name. It was the distraction Izzy needed to slip away unnoticed, which she
was all too happy to do. She was having a hard enough time thinking straight
without adding a racing heart and a desire-fogged mind to the mix.
Once she’d slipped out of sight, she took a deep, cleansing
breath and continued down the path. She felt a momentary pang of guilt as she
thought about his date. She should have warned him. But she quickly justified
her silence with his ignorance. How could she tell him his date was a pyro? How
could she have explained their magic if he, like most humans, refused to
believe magic even existed? True, she’d never tried to explain it to him. But
she didn’t have delusions where humans were concerned. Not anymore.
She walked past the depressants and hallucinogens as she
made her way to the narcotics. She did her best to ignore the drugs despite
their siren song, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel their pull. Her focus
had to be on the crowds though. Minshouse would be with the other dealers. He
wouldn’t be walking among the masses. But there was a chance Alex might be.