Taken by Storm by Emmie Mears

Author:Emmie Mears [Mears, Emmie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, science fiction, demons, urban fantasy
Goodreads: 26837102
Publisher: Anam-Charaid
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Unlike the alpha in Hopkinsville, this alpha didn't try too hard to disguise his scent. We follow the trail south along the waterfront, into the Industrial District.

At first, my mouth sours with the predictability of it, thinking of the shades in Nashville who holed up in an abandoned warehouse near the now defunct industrial area there. But as we approach the first yard of shipping containers, the trail veers west, back toward the water. It continues south toward the airport, where the sound of planes overhead makes Udo and Evis keep shooting glances upward.

The path leads us under Interstate 5 and into a residential neighborhood. It cuts through back yards, and we follow, with the trail finally dead ending at an auto shop that's clean but old and in a bit of disrepair.

There's a motorcycle out in front.

My heart leaps at the sight of it. I know it's the one Gregor was on the other day when I saw him. I can smell him all over the leather seat even from twenty feet away. This is it. We're going to find that hells-sucking piece of slummoth shit and make him pay for what he did.

The door of the shop is open, and again we're greeted with the smell of blood and axle grease.

I'd give just about anything to walk into a place and smell cookies.

If Gregor came in here and killed a bunch of mechanics — or fed them to his pet shades — I'm going to hand him over to a group of them and let them beat him with tire irons before I kill him.

My list of punishments for Gregor is getting longer by the day.

There seems to be no one here, but Evis points to a splatter of blood on the counter and a smear leading away. I open the half door at the end of the counter and we pass through. The blood leads out into the garage, blending with the smell of rubber and grease and metal.

A person lies splayed out, half under a beat up Chevy.

Udo beats me to him. "He's alive."

Sure enough, a cough filters up from under the Chevy. Udo helps roll him on out — he's on a skid — and I hurry over, kneeling on the ground next to him.

"You're one of them," he spits.

"I'm a Mediator."

"That's what he said."

There's no question of who he is. "What did he do here?"

The man tries to raise his hand to wipe away the bloody froth from the corner of his mouth, but he can't. Udo pulls the dangling handkerchief from the man's pocket and wipes away the foam. The man flinches, but lets him.

He doesn't answer my question.

"Help me," I say. The mechanic looks up at me, something very close to hatred in his eyes. "If you tell me where Gregor went, I promise you I'll make him pay."

At that, a glint appears in the man's eyes, and he gives me a long lock before nodding. "He's got a place in Tacoma, a real nice one.

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