Under Attack (UDA 2) by Jayne Hannah

Author:Jayne, Hannah [Jayne, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Paranormal Romance Stories, Murder, Magic, Science Fiction, Fantasy Fiction, Paranormal, Fiction, Urban Life, Fantasy, Supernatural, San Francisco (Calif.), Mystery Fiction, General, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780758258939
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2011-11-01T07:00:00+00:00

The city of San Francisco is technically seven square miles from borders to bay. That means, of course, that it takes a good thirty minutes to get just about anywhere in the city, depending on bus schedules, traffic, weather conditions, and the Earth’s magnetic pull. I climbed into my car with a printed Google map in hand and pulled out into traffic, negotiating my way between Muni buses, wide-eyed tourists, and the occasional gruff man in a collar and leash being walked by a dominatrix. My little Honda heaved its way up steep grades, and I bit the inside of my cheek as I hit a stoplight at the top of a straight-up hill, saying a quick prayer and taking the leap of faith that the road would continue as I veered over the edge. I let out my breath and watched the hulking mansions of Pacific Heights slide by, then edged my way around the standstill traffic of cars with out-of-state license plates lined up to traverse the red-bricked switchbacks of Lombard Street. I was enjoying the quiet quaintness of Chestnut Street when I glanced back at my directions and cursed up a blue streak, realizing I had spent the last twenty minutes going in the exact opposite direction of People’s Pants.

“Freudian slip?” I murmured to the empty car. I double-checked the address again and aimed toward China Basin, dreading my destination even as my car crept closer.

China Basin is built on a landfill, and People’s Pants seemed to be stocked with garments suitable for said landfill. I wound my way through racks and racks of polyester pants with permanent pleats, stretch pants in colors never found in nature, and heaps of velour track suits in cotton-candy colors, my heart sinking with each gruesome discovery. Though I had given myself a reasonably peppy self-talk in the car, I felt the betraying sting of tears starting to form behind my eyes as I approached the register. I clutched my briefcase a little harder and convinced myself that People’s Pants was a mere stepping stone. I might start as a floor manager or some kind of junior buyer, but before long the People’s Pants Corporation was bound to applaud my moxie, admire my swift organizational and people skills, and move me up to a position that I wouldn’t have to lie about at parties.

By the time I found the cash register, I was feeling quite good about eventually taking over as People’s Pants’ first female CEO. I put my hands on the counter and beamed at the young woman who was slouching behind it, picking at her cuticles. Her brilliant blue hair was done up in Medusa braids and her pale face was pierced everywhere that wasn’t covered with deathly white pancake makeup.

When she didn’t look up, I cleared my throat and repasted on my newly acquired corporate-friendly smile.

“Everything with a green label is two-for-one. Higher-priced item prevails,” Medusa braids said without looking up.

“Oh, no, I’m not a shopper.” I stood up a little straighter, held my briefcase close to my crisp white shirt.

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