Page 1

Chapter 1

I MEAN, HAVE YOU ACTUALLY READ THE GREEK MYTHS? YIKES

The formula was so simple. How did they keep screwing it up? I turned another page and began a new tale about gods warning humans not to do something or there would be dire consequences. The humans do it anyway—because, of course, they do—and then they struggle through some horrible punishment. It was either that or Zeus wandering the countryside, raping at will.

Sitting behind the bar at The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar, I glanced up from the page again to look out the window wall that held back the ocean. The tide was rising, so the water level was about five feet above the barroom floor. It was the sky, though, that was the problem. It was still bright.

Summer was my least favorite time of the year. Summers in San Francisco were bright and mild. It wasn’t the weather that had me down. It was the fact that my vampire husband didn’t rise until the sun went down and the sun was taking its sweet-ass time dropping behind the mountains of the North Bay.

The after-work crowd had thinned. Many had gone home and those still here were talking quietly with friends or reading. Dave, my half-demon cook, had fed us and was now in the kitchen making pies for Stheno’s bar, The Viper’s Nest. If they didn’t turn out perfectly, he left them for me. Okay, they were for all of us—me, Owen, Fyr, and Meri—but as I usually got to the food first, it was mostly me.

I’m throwing a lot of names at you. I should probably explain. Owen is the manager of The Slaughtered Lamb. He’s a skilled wicche and a good friend. Fyr is a dragon shifter we found in England last Christmas. He’d been imprisoned by a vampire and then stalked by the fae. He’s finally living free with us, working as a bartender for both me and Stheno. Meri is a fae teen. Her dad is a merman and her mom is human. Meri has a gift for growing things and works in the bookstore. Me? I’m Sam Quinn. I own this joint. I’m a werewolf on my father’s side and a wicche on my mom’s. Specifically, I’m a necromancer. And, as already stated, I’m married to master vampire Clive.

Taking out my phone, I swiped into text messages and checked again to see if Meg—Megaera, one of the Furies you might remember from Greek mythology—had finally responded to my message.

Meg: It’s your turn to help me. Cape Taenarum.

It was my great-uncle Bracken who had explained to Clive and me where Cape Taenarum was. Greece. It was the reputed entrance to the Underworld. As Meg was a Fury, that made sense. What didn’t make sense was why she needed me.

Me: What’s going on? What do you need me to do?

I’d asked the question a couple of days ago but had yet to receive a response. Clive wondered if she was in the Underworld and therefore didn’t have cell service. It was a bizarre thought, but he was probably right.

As I stared at the phone, willing Meg to explain herself, three dots popped up. Holy crap! Have I become all-powerful? Probably not, but that would be cool.

Meg: I don’t know. Stop asking questions and get on a plane. Pythia says you’re the one we’ve waited 3k years for, so hurry the fuck up.

Me: 3000 years?! What the hell are you talking about?

I must have stared at that phone, my heart racing, my brain spiraling for a good five minutes before I realized she’d left me on Read and was done. Pythia? Who was Pythia?

I flipped to the index of the mythology book I was reading and began to search for her name when down the stairs came Stheno, the woman I’d been waiting for. Stheno is one of three gorgon sisters, along with Euryale and Medusa, whom you might have read about. They owned many businesses throughout the world, but the one in San Francisco was The Viper’s Nest Roadhouse and Café.

“Hey, kid,” Stheno said, sliding onto the stool beside where I was thumbing through an anthology of myths. “What’s so important?”

Stheno was gorgeous but in a way that could make your heart race with fear. She had a golden olive complexion, bright amber eyes—well, one eye. The other was under an eye patch—long story—and corkscrew curls that hung down her back to the small of her waist. Were the curls her glamoured snakes? Yep, I was pretty sure they were. I’d once had one of her curls whip out and grab my wrist, so there seemed to be some sentience there.

I quickly poured a large glass of red wine and slid it in front of her. I was trying to butter her up or, I guess, wine her up. “So, here’s the thing,” I began. “I really need your help.”

“Uh-huh.” She took a sip, her gaze wary.

When Fyr, the Thor-looking mountain of a man (and dragon shifter I mentioned earlier), walked back into the bar, a keg of beer on his shoulder, she adjusted her white tank dress, showing off a little more of her glowing tan, and winked at him. Grinning, he crouched behind the bar to hook up the taps.

I cleared my throat and got her attention back on me. “Aren’t you seeing Vlad these days?” As he was currently our sort-of house guest, I didn’t want this turning into some sordid, supernatural love triangle. Sex triangle. Whatever.

She shrugged a shoulder. “I only see him when the sun goes down. It’s his own fault for being a vampire.”

Fyr stood and went back into the kitchen, all eyes in the bar following him. The man was magnetic.

“Besides,” she whispered, “I think that one is seeing someone.”

My eyebrows flew up. Many lusted over Fyr, but I hadn’t heard about any real love interests. I leaned forward. “Really?” I mostly mouthed. Seriously, supernatural hearing was no joke.

She shrugged again. “It’s just a feeling I’m getting, but I’m very good at this sort of thing. Okay,” she said again in a normal voice. “Why did you need to see me? I’ve got shit to do.” She took another long gulp of wine and I refilled the glass.

My mind raced with ways to convince her, but none seemed good enough. I wiped down the bar, looking for inspiration. “So, here’s the thing…” and then I sputtered out.

Annoyed, she reached for my abandoned book on the bar and flipped it closed so she could see the cover. Wincing, I reached for it, but she was too fast. She picked it up and sent it flying through the air into the bookstore. It hit the floor, went sliding across the dark, gleaming wood, and bounced off the checkout counter.