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  I gave Her my best glare, which was still probably a bit wussy given the happy, floaty feeling in my head from the pain meds.

  “What am I on?” I asked, lifting my good hand. It wavered in my vision.

  “I believe it is called Dilaudid. You’ve done a number on your wrist, dear. Leave it to you to fully fracture a major bone.”

  “I didn’t do it, you did,” I shot back. I motioned to the pink cast. “You did this, too, didn’t you?”

  “You don’t like pink, dear?” Nemesis beamed serenely.

  I sighed. “Look. I’m sorry I got hurt.”

  Nemesis’s face fell. “Saffron, I’m always proud of the work you do. It may be a little… unconventional, but you find your way and you give me the opening I need to do my work. You’ve managed several years in my employ with nothing more than scrapes and bruises. Caraway has been in this hospital every month this year!”

  I chuckled. It was true. Me and the other girls had covered for her a couple times while she was healing broken bones and concussions.

  “What about the case?” I asked, sobering.

  Nemesis cleared Her throat. “Closed, my love. A digital recording on the camcorder — such an infernal invention, isn’t it? — showed Amy and Andy McClore and their compatriots preparing the girl for a pornography film.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Of course, the film was cut short,” Nemesis went on, a half-smile gracing Her thick lips. “An unseen person startled them, and nothing was left of the film but snow.” She paused, Her smile widening. “Ah, but you have a visitor, Saffron. I’ll allow him to fill you in on the rest.”

  I held a hand out before She could walk away. “Nem… Something weird happened. When the flashbacks started, I saw a guy there. Watching you kill the McClores.”

  Nemesis’s brow furrowed. “That building is haunted, my dear. A great many spirits call it home.”

  “No, this wasn’t a ghost.” I told Her about the black SUV, and the guy and his cigarette.

  She pursed Her lips. “I will look into it. Thank you for advising me of the situation. Be well, Saffron.”

  She pressed a motherly kiss to my forehead that felt like ice water, then blipped off our plane.

  There was a knock at the door, and I looked up to find a semi-familiar face pop around the edge with a bundle of fresh white daisies. He walked into the room, smiling.

  I couldn’t place him. I knew I’d seen him before, but I didn’t… Then I realized who he was. Startled, I shifted, trying to sit up a little straighter as I smoothed my hair down. “Ewan?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. That’s me, last I checked.”

  Ewan turned my engine over in a second.

  His golden hair was long, brushed sideways so it didn’t trail in his chocolate eyes. The ginger freckles were sweet and youthful compared to the hoop in his brow. The rest of him was killer too — average height, but with broad, muscular shoulders, and a trim waist. I even liked the hemp choker necklace that rested just above the ring of his white T-shirt.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Ewan crossed to me and held out the daisies. “Checking on you.”

  “What are you, my dad?” I said, but took the flowers anyway. They were my favorite, though how he knew that was beyond my realm of comprehension. I was suddenly very interested to learn exactly what information could be found in my Vengeance Inc. file.

  He smirked. “The way you make me feel isn’t very father-like.”

  My heart did this pitter-patter thing that almost made me push the call button to complain of a stroke. I refrained, instead saying, “Thanks, by the way. For sending me help.” I giggled, the sound so foreign. When was the last time I’d had a schoolgirl crush? “For sending me help every single time I need it.”

  Ewan laughed. “As long as you keep going through vehicles like a kid goes through Hot Wheels, I’ll keep saving you.”

  “What’s the outcome of the McClore case? Nem was telling me when you showed up.”

  “A search of the four victims’ homes brought to light several dozen tapes and hundreds of photographs. Child porn.” Ewan wasn’t smiling now, a muscle clenched in his jaw as he gazed at me. “Ten bodies found buried in the backyard of the McClores’ house. They’re still digging. The cops aren’t too worried about the loss of a few cold-blooded killers.”

  I stared at the daisies in my lap. “Ten? Shit.”

  “Kinda makes me glad you killed them.” He touched my shoulder.

  I flushed. “I don’t know. I’m still not sold that killing killers is the right way to find justice. Yet I continue to do it, year after year.”

  Ewan shook his head and sat beside me on the bed. He slipped a hand beneath mine, our fingers entwining. “It’s not always about justice, hotcakes. It’s about balance. Did you know the ancient Mesopotamians operated under an ‘eye for an eye’ legal system?”

  “Kinda. Passing mention in high school, and I wasn’t too great at that.”

  Ewan grinned. “You’re great at everything you do, Saff.”

  I blushed. Again.

  Ewan cleared his throat, his gaze drifting away from mine as if he were embarrassed. “The crime matched the punishment. If a man fought another man, and one lost an eye, in retribution, the other man would be relieved of his.”

  “Seems harsh.”

  “Not harsh. Balanced. As a result, there was little crime in ancient Mesopotamia.”

  “You’re awful smart for a kid,” I said with a laugh, extracting my hand from his even though I didn’t want to. He was my assistant, my go-to boy. I had to work with him for as long as we were both at Vengeance Inc.

  “I’m not a kid any more than you are,” Ewan responded. The way his gaze moved down my body with a hungry glint left no question as to whether he was a kid or not. It was all adult, all male, and all desire.

  “How old are you, really?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  I felt his wolfish smile in my toes. “Twenty-two.”

  “In the name of all that’s holy.” I fanned myself. “You’re younger than me.”

  “Then I guess you’re gonna be my cougar,” he joked.

  I caught his eye. “Who says I’m even interested?”

  He slid a single thumb down my cheek, and I jolted, my breath catching in my throat.

  “That. Right there.” Then he leaned forward and kissed me.

  It was crazy, right? The way my body temperature shot up to hell-like proportions, the way the pain in my broken wrist was just suddenly not there anymore, and all I could feel was his long, lean body hovering over mine. His kiss was better than the pain meds.

  We broke apart at the same time, our chests heaving and his hand on my breast like it’d found a new home. He twitched, yanking his hand away as I looked at it.

  “I usually don’t let a guy feel me up ’til after he feeds me,” I said wryly. “Or at least having had a conversation that wasn’t all about work.”

  “Sorry.” He smiled, an impish upturning of his lips that was entirely playful. “So, let’s make a date then.”

  “What day is it?” I asked, searching the bedside table for my cell phone.

  “Sunday.”

  I located my cell and pushed the button to illuminate the screen. Just after noon. I’d only been in the hospital overnight. “I have the perfect first date.”

  Giving me a lazy smile, Ewan squeezed my good hand. “Anything.”

  “You free tonight?”

  “Every night for the rest of the week,” he replied, and kissed me again.

  That was good to hear, because Lebanon Junction was only an hour-and-a-half away, and Mom’s ‘crazy’ southern cooking was calling my name. I’d bring Ewan so she’d get off my back about getting married, and I’d gorge on gravy, fried chicken, and grits until I couldn’t button my pants.

  There was no way to know when my next summons would come, where it would send me, or what I would be walking into, so I lived life the best I knew how.
And as I hopped in my car an hour later with my hot, young assistant, we rolled down the windows and hit the road towards Kentucky. Life felt pretty good, regardless of where it would take me.

  The feeling didn’t last.

  Just outside of Lebanon Junction on a rarely used back road, a black SUV appeared in my rearview mirror, following so close I could see the figure of a man behind the wheel.

  “Shit,” I hissed, turning down the radio as my heart stuttered. I put my foot to the gas, watching as my speed gauge climbed.

  Ewan, having been in mid-conversation about his family in New York, glanced at me. “What’s wrong? Do you need me to drive? I told you not to drive on painkillers and a broken wrist. You’re stubborn.”

  “No, it’s not that.” I gave him the quick and dirty on how I’d seen the SUV several times, and then had seen the man smoking as Nemesis sought Her vengeance.

  “You think he’s following you?” Ewan asked, swiveling in his seat to look behind us.

  “Don’t do that!” I said, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to face front. “He’ll see you!”

  It was too late. I watched in my mirror as a hand flicked out the window — tossing his ever-present cigarette, perhaps? — and then the SUV sped up.

  It happened so quickly I didn’t have a chance to react. The SUV whipped around us, smashed into the side of my car, and sent us into a spiral.

  Time slowed. I caught sight of Ewan grasping the handlebar above his head before we flipped and everything went dark.

  If you plan to continue with this series, there’s an epilogue…but I suggest you stop here if you don’t like cliffhangers and don’t plan to continue.

  Thanks for reading!

  Epilogue

  I’d experienced a lot in the past five years, and I was a better person for it. I’d strengthened not only my body, but my mind. I’d learned to go with the flow, even if it made me crazy. I knew how to handle high stress situations — even if it meant a cry over brownies afterwards.

  But I’d never woken up in chains.

  I fought to focus on the room around me, to take stock of my situation. The academy’s first rule of being captured: Note everything.

  I just never thought it would happen to me.

  I struggled to my knees, my hands wrenched painfully behind my back. My wrists were bound together, my cast cutting into my good hand, and the shackles were attached by a short chain to the wall. The room was stone: stone floor, stone walls, even a stone ceiling. This wasn’t any house I’d ever seen before.

  There was only one door, set into the wall in front of me about twenty feet away, and a single light bulb with a chain jutting out next to it. On the floor by the door, a cigarette butt pile proved who had taken me had also been watching me while I was out.

  The bulb was dim, but illuminated an otherwise bare room.

  I waited what seemed hours. I obsessed over what had happened to Ewan: had he been hurt in the wreck? Was he locked in a similar room nearby? I obsessed over my car, ’cause I had really liked that model. I thought about how hungry I was, and how badly I had to pee.

  And I wondered why Nemesis wasn’t coming for me or answering my steady barrage of inward calls.

  Finally, the door opened.

  “You have a face,” I remarked dryly, my voice coming out as a croak.

  It was him. Black SUV guy, with his cigarette dangling from thick, red lips and flaxen hair slicked back on his head. He was cute, if a little thin. His cheekbones jutted like delicate wings beneath large, pale eyes.

  Eyes with pupils slitted like a goat’s.

  “Saffron, isn’t it?” His voice was musical: not deep, but not feminine, either. He took a drag from his cigarette then snubbed the butt beneath his toe on the floor with rest.

  “It isn’t fair you know my name, and I don’t know yours,” I said, grimacing as I tried to find a more comfortable way to sit. “You should at least introduce yourself before shackling a girl to the wall.”

  “My name is irrelevant.” He grinned, exposing white teeth with two delicately pointed canines.

  I stared at those pointed teeth, suddenly aware this guy wasn’t just some lame human man who had tracked me down and taken me out.

  I didn’t know what he was.

  “Nemesis will find me,” I said, unable to quell the waver in my voice. “She always finds me.”

  “She won’t find you, Saffron.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and shook one out. “You are no longer in your world. You are in mine. She cannot sense you any longer.”

  I jerked on my chains, terror filling me. Nemesis was always there, just a thought away. I screamed for Her in my mind, receiving only silence in return.

  My abductor lit his cigarette, the tip flaring red in front of his face. His inhuman eyes glinted. “I have a proposition for you.”

  * * *

  To be continued …

  Continue the Vengeance Goddess series in Vengeance Inc.

  * * *

  http://www.heathermarieadkins.com/VengeanceInc

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  About the Author

  Heather Marie Adkins writes too much but still too little. She also has too many cats, not enough tequila, and a torrid love affair with procrastination.

  Heather is the USA Today bestselling author of more than thirty novels. She resides in north-central Kentucky with a sarcastic cop who is entirely too dependent on puns. When she’s not plotting her next story or herding felines, she works at the library.

  Read More from Heather Marie Adkins

  http://www.heathermarieadkins.com

  Water Witch

  A Dustin Walker Anthology

  RJ Blain

  Water Witch: A Dustin Walker Anthology

  Blood in the Water, Fishnet Stockings, and the Water’s Call

  by RJ Blain

  Being the son of a werewolf isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, but when Dustin Walker develops an unfortunate case of witchcraft, his entire life is turned upside down.

  Unless he’s careful, he’s going to catch a serious case of death, and with blood in the water, it’s only a matter of time before the sharks come out to play.

  Dustin Walker first appeared in RJ Blain’s Beneath a Blood Moon, a Witch & Wolf novel. Subscribe to the Sneaky Kitty Critic’s newsletter to read more about Dustin and his friends.

  Copyright © 2018 by RJ Blain

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Blood in the Water

  I should have known being my father’s son would land me in trouble.

  Masked men grabbing me at gunpoint outside my college during the middle of the day was the cherry on top of an already shitty day. At least I didn’t have to think too hard about what to do. If I cooperated, I had a chance. If I didn’t, I might not be the only one shot.

  Sometimes, being a cop’s kid truly sucked.

  I’d grown up understanding someone might come after me or Mom; it came with the territory. At nineteen and living on my own, I had believed the worst was behind me, but no. I really should’ve known better. Successful police investigators, especially ones who went on to become police chiefs, pissed criminals off. Once their incarceration ended, too many of them sought revenge. For some, killing the cops who put them away wasn’t good enough. They wanted something more, and how better to get it than targeting their enemy’s family?

  If I survived, I was going to have a long chat with Dad about his life choices.

  There was only one bit of good news for me: whoever the three masked men were, they wanted to draw it out, which meant instead of leaving my dead body on the sidewalk, they shoved me into a silver SUV.

  Dad always
worried something would happen, something he wouldn’t be able to prevent, and as a result, he had done his best to prepare me and Mom. Cooperating might buy me enough time to be rescued, and attempting to rescue myself would probably get me killed.

  I liked living as much as the next person, so I shut my mouth, sat tight, and waited.

  Instead of the bluffing, gloating, and threats I expected, my kidnappers kept quiet. They were older men, their dark hair starting to go gray, average Caucasians with the hardened look of those who had spent more than a few years in jail.

  Why hadn’t they killed me? If revenge was their motive, it would’ve been safer for them to drive by the college, wait for me to come out, and open fire. What did they want from me?

  I eliminated money as their motive. Dad couldn’t meet any ransom demands; if he did, it would set a dangerous precedent and put many other lives at risk. Then again, criminals were often stupid, so the possibility existed my kidnappers didn’t know ransoming me wouldn’t work.

  A dozen blocks from the college, the driver pulled into an alley and parked. They searched me, taking everything except my watch before ditching their masks, sweatshirts, and the SUV for a mid-sized family car, a silver, common-as-dirt Toyota with California plates. A single, discreet test of the door handle confirmed my fears; the child safety locks were enabled, ensuring I wouldn’t be taking a dive from the back seat if traffic cooperated.

  Without anyone witnessing the vehicle transfer, my next destination was either heaven or hell, and I had no idea how the son of a werewolf and a witch ranked in the grand scheme of things in the afterlife.