Page 1 of The Fate of Black Hearts

Chapter One

Present Day

Evie lowered her rifle to massage her shoulder. Her hand came away with blood.

“What?” Roman blurted through her ear communicator. “All good?”

Oops. She must’ve cursed out loud.

“All clear,” she replied without a hint of the bite doubling her over from where a bullet had pierced her upper arm. “Just…” She breathed through the pain. “Just tying up a loose end.”

“Sounds like I should send someone?—”

“Six hostiles cleared.” She didn’t want her son realizing she’d been hurt.

“Are you sure? Operationally you’re?—”

“If you suggest I’m old, I’ll put a bullet somewhere it’ll hurt to pee. You won’t be able to make your girl?—”

“Got it. You’re good,” he snapped. Nothing made Roman lose his composure faster than bringing up his mate, Nova. “When have I eversuggested you’re?—”

“Shut up before she makes you dig your own grave,” advised Flynn, a few years younger than Roman. She imagined him rolling a lollypop from one side of his mouth to the other and rotating his signature baseball cap backward over his shaggy blond hair. His talent for hacking into security systems had earned him a spot on several international most-wanted lists.

“I can be there in three,” Ky, her third son on this mission, offered. Although Ky had found love and mated a beautiful lycan several years ago, it hadn’t erased the hyperalert paranoia that kept him alive. Give him a gun or a knife and he could bull’s-eye any target. A talent he’d inherited from her.

“I repeat, all clear.” So, she had some mileage? Birthdays had blurred together long ago, somewhere around two hundred-something. Being a lycan, she had the potential to live for a lot longer. Age wasn’t why she’d been hit by one of the fifty-something bullets the humans fired her way from the third floor of the government building across the street. She would’ve dodged perfectly if someone hadn’t distracted her.

“Status,” she demanded.

“It forced spirit possession on the militia general to distract us. Target escaped,” Ky reported. “Working on exorcism but fifty-fifty at this point if it works or we eliminate. Meet at the rendezvous to resume pursuit of the target.”

Someone still watched her. He wasn’t someone she suspected to be involved with their target. Her watcher wasn’t a someonebut a something. The identity of the type of nonhuman creature that stalkedher remained unclear, but he’d been following her for several months.

She could identify most nonhuman types by smell, but this creature’s nature remained unclear.

She whipped off her coat, yanked down the sleeve of her black dress, and wrapped a temporary bandage around her arm. Packing bandage materials in her rifle bag was a new need. What should’ve healed within minutes now took hours to days. It was a decline in health she chose to ignore.

The dress had been her costume to infiltrate the general’s party across the street, but plans changed when armed mercenaries were detected instead of the posh soiree. She’d gotten sniper duty instead of partygoer. She stuck her finger through the hole in the sleeve and groaned. Damn it, she loved this dress.

Once done placing a bandage, she squinted around the bare, unfurnished apartment. The slithery sensation of being under an unknown’s perusal pissed her off.

This time, she’d get him. He endangered all of them by following her.

She locked onto his scent, which carried a hint of a unique soap. Something familiar, but the memory of it evaded her.

Her watcher had escaped her twice over the past few months. Today, she’d win this hunt.

She whipped on her black, knee-length leather coat, which conveniently hid the blood she wore. After a rapid breakdown she shoved her rifle into its black travel bag, which she slung over her non-injured shoulder. The pace at which she took the steps down several levels almost caused her to take aheader on the concrete staircase.

Outside, in the dark night, humans buzzed around her on their treks to Friday night festivities in Ljubljana. Local Slovenians seemed oblivious to the gunfire less than ten minutes ago, which was weird. Maybe the warlock had placed a spell to obscure the government building from notice.

Hairs on the back of her neck rose. Something not human—something foul—lurked on the other side of the government building. This wasn’t the warlock they sought, but it was something too dangerous to the humans nearby to let it remain alive. For a second she considered turning back on the ear communicator she’d shoved in her pocket and tell one of her sons to deal with it.

She glanced heavenward to cast a “really” to the Christian god. Her boys needed to chase the warlock. She’d handle this. After a disappointed glance up the sidewalk where her watcher had disappeared, she marched across the six-lane street, dodging traffic.

Ducking behind a decorative hedge, she removed the shotgun and stowed the duffle in a bush. Roman might be capable of magical voodoo to execute or exorcise a demon, but not her. A couple of old-fashioned demon head explosions might improve her aggravation with this evening.

With a satisfyingshick-shick,she chambered a round.