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  Praise for the Horngate Witches series

  “Strongly crafted world building, with exciting nonstop action and main and supporting characters that are vivid and varied.”

  —Sci Fi Guy

  “One of the most intriguing and compelling urban fantasy series around.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A series to remember.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “The tough, feel-good supernatural fights . . . will keep action fans coming back for book after book.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Outstanding writing and characters. A must read.”

  —Hub Pages

  “Reading a Horngate Witches book is a bit like watching a big summer movie. Action! Explosions! Impossibly tough characters doing awesome things! It’s a heck of a ride.”

  —Fantasy Literature

  BITTER NIGHT

  “This lush urban fantasy populated with witches, angels, Sunspears, and Shadowblades contains all the decadent delights of dark chocolate. One taste, and you’d devour this book.”

  —Ann Aguirre, national bestselling author of Grimspace and Enclave

  “Max is a volcano of seething anger and hatred. . . . Readers are sucked into this chilling world. Awesome!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “High-energy, gritty.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Dark, unique, and electrifying.”

  —Faith Hunter, author of Skinwalker

  CRIMSON WIND

  “A complex heroine, darkly twisted setting, and high sexual tension.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “A fast-paced thrill ride. . . . The novel [goes] from zero to sixty in a matter of pages. . . . Phenomenal world building, entrancing characters, and a thrilling plot make this a must read for urban fantasy and paranormal romance lovers alike!”

  —Black Lagoon Reviews

  “Max is back and lucky for readers, her life hasn’t gotten any less complicated. . . . Readers should hang on tight, for this second Horngate Witches novel is filled with massive danger and gritty struggles for survival. You won’t be able to put this one down!”

  —RT Book Reviews (41/2 stars)

  “An exciting thriller. . . . With an incredible ending to an action-packed tale, readers will clamor for the third book in Francis’s excellent epic saga.”

  —Alternative Worlds

  “Once again, Max proves to be one of the top urban fantasy heroines. She’s tough, actually cares about people, and is big enough to admit when she’s made a mistake. I loved watching her grow in Crimson Wind, both as a leader and a woman.”

  —Bitten by Books

  SHADOW CITY

  “Amazing, fascinating, spellbinding. . . . Francis has a gem of a series in her hands, and this book is top-notch action and fantasy rolled into one. . . . A must read series for all urban fantasy readers.”

  —Paranormal and Urban Fantasy Reviews

  “Max is an awesome heroine. She packs a lot of punch and is kind of a bad-ass. . . . There was never a dull moment. Francis does a wonderful job at keeping the reader in suspense throughout the book.”

  —Boekie’s Book Reviews

  “The latest Horngate Witches thriller is a great entry due to the actions and reactions of the lead characters. . . . Readers will relish this strong urban fantasy.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  Thank you for purchasing this Pocket Books eBook.

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  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About Diana Pharaoh Francis

  To Tony, Q-ball, and Syd. I love you all dearly.

  Acknowledgments

  I HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE TO THANK FOR HELPING ME with this book on so many levels. To start, I’d like to thank my wonderful and supportive family. Your patience and support mean the world to me and have kept me sane. Tony has been a rock, and Quentin and Syd are the light in my life.

  Thanks also go to Lucienne Diver for being an amazing agent; Adam Wilson, who is a fabulous and patient editor; Wendy Keebler, who is an amazing copy editor; Julia Fincher, who makes sure things get done; and to everyone else at Pocket Books who helped make this book happen.

  For those of you who contributed to the book in other ways, like beta reading, critiquing, helping with the title—thank you: Barb Cass, Christy Keyes, Megan Glasscock, Paula Richey, and Missy Sawmiller.

  I’ve had a lot of support from my fellow writers in the war room. Thanks to all of you for the companionship and the cheerleading and the commiseration when needed. Thanks also to the folks on Twitter, LJ, FB, and my blog. Your support and camaraderie have been so important to me.

  And last but not least, thank you to my readers. Thank you for reading my books and spreading the word. I could not do this thing that I love so much without you.

  WHAT IS THIS STUFF?”

  As Tyler complained, he brushed at his clothing. A streak of bright red dust clung to the shirt wrapping his lean, muscular frame. His long blond hair was tied at the base of his neck, and he sported a Three Musketeers-style mustache and beard.

  Max sipped at the concoction in her glass, wincing at the thick, syrupy taste. Now that food was getting a lot harder to come by, Magpie, a Circle-level witch and the covenstead’s cook, had come up with a high-calorie drink made from honey, berries, and who knew what else. It tasted like the worst kind of cough medicine, but Shadowblades and Sunspears didn’t have much choice. They needed a minimum of twenty thousand calories a day each to fuel the spells that created them, and going to Costco or Walmart for tubs of peanut butter and pallets of power bars was no longer an option. The Ugly Juice, as everybody was quietly calling it when Magpie’s back was turned, was the only answer they had come up with.

  “Maybe you rubbed up against something,” she suggested unhelpfully as the red smudge refused to budge. “Or someone.” She lifted a brow suggestively.

  “The same something—or someone—you rubbed up against?” He glared at her arm. His blue eyes burned in his narrow face, and he spun a knife around the fingers of his left hand. It never seemed to leave his grip anymore. Like a deadly security blanket. He was perpetually angry, always needing to move. As if he was hunted.

  Max glanced down at herself and frowned. A streak of red dust ran down her forearm. She wiped at it. The stuff might as well have been spray paint. She shrugged and gave up. “Probably something one of the witches concocted. Likely Kyle,” she said, wincing again.

  Her brother had all the power of a Triangle witch and all the training and self-control of a toddler. He tended to experiment with spells before considering the consequences, with frequently messy and sometimes dire results.

  “He needs a keeper,” Tyler said, taking half
a biscuit drenched in gravy and offering it to the beast lying at his feet.

  The Grim stared up at him with unworldly green eyes for a long moment, before closing Tyler’s entire hand in her jaws and scraping off the biscuit, leaving welts across his skin. The creature was at least two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle and stood about three feet tall at the shoulder. Her bearlike fur was blue-black, developing into a ruff behind her heavy, square head. Her tail curled around her legs.

  “Nice doggy,” Max said, eyeing the scrapes on Tyler’s hand. His healing spells kicked in instantly, and a moment later they vanished. “What’s she do when she’s pissed off at you?”

  He looked down at the Grim. The beast looked like a cross between a dog and a bear, but she was something far more magical and dangerous. Not to mention unpredictable, moody, and very possessive of Tyler.

  He grimaced, and then the corner of his mouth turned up reluctantly. “It’s not what she does when she’s pissed that’s the question, it’s what she does if she isn’t. That I’m still waiting to find out.”

  Max snorted. “You do seem to attract sketchy women.”

  “Like you?”

  “I was thinking of the witch-bitch herself. Giselle.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve got a point there. Apparently, I like hard-assed women with vicious tendencies.”

  “Good thing, too, given that you’re surrounded by them. And sleeping with one,” she said, jerking her chin at the Grim. “Does she hog the bed?”

  Tyler winced. “More like I am the bed. I usually wake up with her sprawled across me and with a mouthful of dog hair.”

  “Sounds romantic.”

  “Shut up. What about Beyul? Alexander’s Grim doesn’t exactly strike me as the sort to sleep at the foot of the bed.”

  “He likes the couch.”

  “What about Spike?”

  Spike was a Calopus and looked a lot like a silver wolf, except for the two thin horns that curved from her skull and the multitude of poison spines along her back, chest, sides, and tail. She had taken a liking to Max and had become her regular companion. Just at the moment, she slept under the table, her chin resting on Max’s foot.

  “The couch is big enough for her and Beyul both.”

  “You and Alexander are probably too loud and energetic for either beastie to sleep well if one of them tried to share the bed. But maybe they like to watch,” Tyler said, waggling his brows up and down. His knife still spun between his fingers.

  Max flushed despite herself. She wasn’t used to having someone special in her life and in her bed. Ever since becoming a Shadowblade, she’d kept everyone at arm’s length, resorting to one-night stands to scratch her sexual itches. But then Alexander had come along and changed all that. Sort of. She was still trying to figure out how not to fall back into the habit of closing him out. During the days in bed, when she could float on the amazing feelings he awoke in her, things were just about perfect. But then nights came, and she had to deal with all her fears and knee-jerk patterns of shutting down rather than dealing with too many conflicting emotions. Alexander had a lot patience, but it was running out. After that—after that was something that was starting to give her nightmares.

  “Maybe they do watch,” she said with a shrug. “’Course, I wouldn’t know. I keep busy, you know.”

  “Which reminds me, where is the fair Alexander tonight?” Tyler glanced around at the other tables in the covenstead’s dining commons, where several other Shadowblades and Sunspears were eating. “You didn’t forget to unlock his handcuffs, did you?”

  “No, just wore him out. Turned him into a puddle of satisfied man-goo.”

  “Way too much information,” Tyler said, sitting back and making a face.

  “You asked.”

  “My mistake. Let’s change the subject. I don’t need to hear any more about your sex life. What’s the schedule for tonight?”

  Max sipped her Ugly Juice before answering. Tyler was going to hate her answer. “I am leaving you in charge of the Blades for a while.”

  He straightened, and his knife stopped spinning as he held it tight in his fingers. Like he was about to cut someone’s throat. “Why? Where are you going?”

  “Well, that’s the fun part. I’m going to town.”

  Tyler scowled. “Town? What for? Every idiot in Missoula has formed up into armies and gangs, and they’ve been fighting over food, gas, water, and territory. They don’t take to strangers. They shoot first and ask questions later. You know as well as I do that the last time we sent anyone into town, they barely got out in one piece. You can’t dodge a rifle bullet, and you won’t see it coming.” His words spilled out in a froth of worried anger.

  Max kept her voice even. “The problem is, we have no idea what’s going on down there. Giselle wants me to find out.” She hesitated. “I’ll be fine. I’m not going to get hurt.”

  “Right. That’s what Niko thought, and now he’s dead, along with how many others? I bet our indestructible angel friends thought the same thing, and where are they? Laid out in a stone vault like corpses, neither dead nor alive. It’s bullshit. We should stay the hell out of Missoula until they sort themselves out. When the dust settles, we can go find out what’s what. Most people think the only good witch is a dead witch—and the Change has only made them believe it more.”

  She sighed quietly. Niko had been her best friend. Tyler’s, too. Losing him was beyond painful, and Tyler had reacted by being both wildly reckless with himself and more protective of everybody else. But Max wasn’t made to stay locked up safe; she was a weapon. She still had a job to do, and hiding in Horngate wouldn’t get it done. She told him as much.

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m taking Alexander. You’re staying here.”

  He stared at her, his chin jutting. The Grim beside him rose and growled, her green eyes lighting with emerald sparks. Max wasn’t sure if the beast was threatening her, threatening him, or just generally commenting on the noise.

  “You don’t trust me to have your back,” he said finally. “Is that it? You think I got Niko killed.”

  “No,” she said emphatically, leaning forward and grabbing one of his hands. “Bad luck got Niko killed. Bad luck and bad magic.” She sat back, her fingers tapping restlessly. “Besides, Alexander was there, too. I don’t blame either one of you.” I blame me. “The fact is, I’m saving you from living hell. You really don’t want to come with me today.”

  He didn’t give an inch. “Oh?”

  She sighed. “Remember what you said about Kyle needing a keeper?” Max lifted her hand to her brow in a casual salute. “Head keeper reporting for duty.”

  His lips slowly widened into a grin. “That does sound like a good time. Let me know when you’re ready to bury the body. I want to help.” Then he frowned. “He’s a liability in town. Why take him?”

  “Oh, it gets better. Tory and Carrie Lydman are going, too.”

  He goggled and shook his head. “Explain to me why you are taking a stupid witch and a pair of teenagers—one of whom is a bitch on wheels—into a war zone. Use small words. I’m feeling slow.”

  “Because Giselle wants me to mingle and spy, and Kyle and the girls are about as close to ordinary people as you can get for Horngate. Add in that Tory and Carrie have been threatening to sneak off by themselves, and Giselle figures that they’ll get it out of their systems and be useful at the same time.”

  “That’s insane. I can’t believe their parents agreed.”

  “The girls are of age. And as crazy as it sounds, Giselle is right. We need intel on what’s going on in Missoula. Not knowing is like having a bomb in the backyard and just guessing when it will go off.”

  Tyler rubbed his lips with his knuckles. “Kyle’s a loose cannon. He’s just as likely to chase butterflies into a hornet’s nest as help you.”

  “I’ll handle him,” Max said. “Even if I have to club him over the head. But he’s good to have arou
nd, just in case. His magic could come in handy if we run into serious trouble.”

  “Trouble? Tory and Carrie are nothing but trouble. You won’t be able to escape it,” Tyler scoffed.

  “The girls are excited to help. They think it’s all a game. And since we’re going to start at the River Market, I’m sure they’re hoping to find a new pair of shoes or some makeup.” Max rolled her eyes. Teenage girls. Pre- or postapocalypse, their priorities never changed.

  “Aren’t you ready yet? We’re all waiting for you.”

  Max glanced up at the nineteen-year-old girl standing in the doorway, keeping her expression neutral. Tory was her niece—a walking tornado of hormones and emotion. As Tyler said, a bitch on wheels. She was stubborn, angry, resentful, and mouthy, and she had a knack for getting on Max’s last nerve.

  She scanned Tory slowly from head to foot, taking in her fashionably ripped skinny jeans, her low-cut rhinestone-studded shirt revealing the top of her lacy bra and a healthy amount of cleavage, and a pair of spiked boots. Her golden hair hung loose to her waist and was curled and teased. Her full lips sparkled with gloss. She looked, in a word, sexy. Sexy as hell. Max glanced at Tyler. He stared with widening eyes, his mouth dropping open.

  Men. They were so easy.

  She looked back at Tory. “You know you aren’t going hooking on the Vegas Strip, right? You may want to tone it down. We’re trying not to attract a lot of attention.”

  “You may be, but I’m not,” Tory said, jabbing her thumbs into her back pockets so her full breasts thrust out. Tyler nearly choked. “You want information. Boys see a hot body, and they do nothing but talk. Their brains drop to their dicks, and they get diarrhea of the mouth.”

  Max couldn’t argue with that. If she needed proof, there was Tyler. She shook her head. “Your mother is going to love this. She’ll kick my ass.”