Excerpt: 'Magic Shifts' by Ilona Andrews

HEA gets to share an excerpt from Magic Shifts, the latest Kate Daniels book from Ilona Andrews, out tomorrow.

About the book (courtesy of Ace):

After breaking from life with the Pack, mercenary Kate Daniels and her mate—former Beast Lord Curran Lennart—are adjusting to a very different pace. While they're thrilled to escape all the infighting, Kate and Curran know that separating from the Pack completely is a process that will take time.

But when they learn that their friend Eduardo has gone missing, Kate and Curran shift their focus to investigate his disappearance. Eduardo was a fellow member of the Mercenary Guild, so Kate knows the best place to start looking is his most recent jobs. As Kate and Curran dig further into the merc's business, they discover that the Guild has gone to hell and that Eduardo's assignments are connected in the most sinister way…

An ancient enemy has arisen, and Kate and Curran are the only ones who can stop it—before it takes their city apart piece by piece.

EXCERPT

Biohazard arrived in style: two black SUVs and an armored semi carrying steel containers instead of a trailer. The SUVs vomited ten people in Biohazard contamination suits and one stocky, dark-haired man in a red hoodie. On the hoodie white letters spelled out WIZARD AT LARGE. Small world.

The wizard at large stabbed his finger at me. "You! The unclean one! Tell me everything."

"Hi, Luther. I thought you worked for the PAD."

He made a sour face. "Too much politics, too little magic. They have issues with my professional strategy. Also, their dental sucks."

"So you got fired?"

"I quit."

"Aha. When I quit the Order, you told me I was besmirched."

"That's because you quit in a huff over some silliness like trying to save people's lives. I quit to maximize my earning potential. Don't you know being a hero is a losing bet? The pay is s*** and people hate you for it." Luther looked at Curran. "Who is the male specimen?"

Curran offered Luther his hand. "Lennart."

Luther grabbed Curran's hand and smelled it. "Shapeshifter, feline, probably a lion, but not the run-of-the-mill African Simba. You've got an odd scent about you." He glanced at me. "Why do you always hang out with weirdos?"

"It's her special talent," Curran said. "She attracts us like bees to honey."

Luther shook his head and turned to the corpse of the bug. The Biohazard artist was busily trying to sketch it, while the rest of the crew stood around it with acid and flamethrowers. "Tell me about the thing."

I explained Mrs. Oswald's story.

"It spoke?" Luther asked.

"Yes." Normal apparitions weren't sentient. They didn't speak, and if they did, not with that much power. "There was a lot of magic in the voice. You could feel it on your skin."

"I don't like it," Luther said.

I didn't like it either. "Someone has a grudge against cats. I don't know if it was Mrs. Oswald's particular cats or any cats in general. But the cat hater is persistent. First he or she sent a tick. After Eduardo killed it, the Summoner followed it with the griffin, and when the griffin was too small to break through the bars, he or she must've sunk some magic into it to make it bigger. And then it turned into that." I nodded at the corpse. "I don't even know what the hell it is."

"We got a bug guy back at HQ. I'll give you a call when he sorts it out." Luther pondered the corpse. "The cross-phylum metamorphosis bothers me."

It bothered me, too.

The sketch artist waved his sketchbook. "Done."

"Okay, mates," Luther called. "Bag it, tag it, and chain it up."

The crew began rolling out plastic.

"Hey, Luther," I said. "You guys didn't hire any new ghouls, did you?"

Luther spun to me, his eyes focused, like a shark sensing a drop of blood in the water. "You know something. Tell me."

"The Pack scouts found a lot of dead ghouls on a road to the east," Curran said. "We had breakfast with the Beast Lord and he mentioned it."

Luther pondered him. "Sure, I'll buy that. Oh wait, I have a brain. Sorry, completely forgot. The ghouls were found in pieces. Someone ripped them apart with claws and cut them to pieces with a sword. And here the two of you are, one has claws and the other has a sword."

"We're not the only people in the city with swords and claws," Curran said.

Luther squinted at us. "What are you two up to?"

"Right now, nothing," I said.

"I don't believe you."

Derek jogged up the street. He wore a gray hoodie and a pair of old jeans and he was running in that particular wolf gait that looked unhurried but devoured miles. Nineteen, just under six feet, with dark hair and a muscular athletic body, Derek turned heads. Then people saw his face. A couple of years ago he tried to save a girl. The creatures who owned her caught him and poured molten metal on his face. He recovered, but his face looked different now. His features were rougher, their once-handsome perfection gone. His eyes made it worse. They were dark and hard, the kind of eyes that belonged to someone older, someone who'd been through the grinder of pain and suffering and come out of it damaged but unbroken. He leaned against our Jeep and slouched.

"Fine," I said. "We have a missing shapeshifter and we're trying to find him. We could use some help."

Luther held up his hand. "Stop right there. Shapeshifters are Pack business. Unless they request our help in writing, I can't do anything. I don't even want to hear it."

What a surprise. Hold me before my heart gives out from the pure shock of that surprise. "Wow, so nice of you to care."

"The Beast Lord is an a**hole," Luther said. "I've dealt with his representatives before and let me tell you, I don't want to piss him off."

I really wanted to look at Curran's face, but I would have to turn and it would seem odd.

Find out more about books by Ilona Andrews at www.ilona-andrews.com.