Chapter 1

I’m a tracker. Actually, my business card reads “Maggie MacKay - Magical Tracker”. I find the bad guys and bring them in. And right now, I was getting the shit kicked out of me. It’s a crummy job and, unfortunately, it’s mine.

I appear to be a normal, thirty-something, Irish brunette. You know. With a penchant for bike leathers and, at this particular moment, wrestling vampires.

God, they stink. The whole undead process does not slow the rotting corpse action.

I had a trace on this one since he crawled out of the sewer to sit in the church eaves, hell- bent on taking out a couple of nice old nuns. I may not have all my priorities straight, but those ladies gave up getting laid to feed the hungry and care for the poor. You don’t make gals like that lunch.

I had chased this sucker down a blind alley, silver stake in my hand. Unnecessarily fancy weaponry? Yes. You are correct. To kill a vampire, you just need a stake, anything pointy will do, but I never know what I’ll be tracking next, so I try to go for multipurpose tools. Plus, my sister got this one engraved for me at Things Remembered last Christmas, which, I think, gives it some added class.

“Come on, would you just die already?” I grunted as he grappled with me, trying to get his fangs in my neck. I’d learned a long time ago to wear neckguards. Vampires will go for anywhere you’ve got a pulse, but it’s when they get you in the neck that you have to worry.

“You are the one who will die!” he whispered, flipping me on my stomach and sitting on my back.

Crap. Not good.

“I have been waiting a long time to destroy you, Ms. MacKay.”

Now, I might not be the swiftest boat in the fleet, but A) This guy shouldn’t know my name and B) what’s with the whole “long time to destroy me” action? I figured if I was potentially going to snuff it, I should at least ask. Between elbow punches to his ribcage as I tried to wriggle away, I managed to grunt out, “How do you know me?”

“I am afraid you are the one with the bounty upon her head.”

“What does that even mean?”

I felt him fumbling with the locks on my guard. I was not about to have any of this. I grabbed him around the neck to roll him when I heard a THWACK and felt him stiffen, then fall off me. He landed, his wide eyes frozen upon my face.

I sat up.

“It appeared that you were in need of assistance.”

My knight in shining armor was tall, easily 6’4, maybe 6’5, and impossibly gorgeous. The kind of guy you feel like you needed to apologize to afterwards for kissing because your face was unworthy of those lips. Lord almighty. He was slender and chiseled, golden locks tumbling around his merry blue eyes. Oh, and pointy ears, which explained the whole unearthly beauty. He was an elf. And evidently on my side. For the moment.

“Naw, I had him,” I said, standing up and brushing off my pants. I so had NOT had him and a very terrified part of me didn’t want to admit how close I had been to being a blood bank bento box just a couple minutes ago. “But, you know, thanks for saving me some time.”

I picked up the vampire’s arms and started dragging him down the alley.

“Permit me to assist you, fair lady.”

I rolled my eyes. That’s the deal with elves. Gorgeous. Mind-blowingly good lays. But you had to put up with the ridiculously archaic crap that came shooting out of their mouth. Still, he was stronger than me and I have no pride when it comes to getting out of moving dead weight.

“Eh, sure,” I dropped the vampire with a thunk.

The elf picked the evil undead monster up like he was a two-pound kitten. Mrrrow.

“So, um… my car is over there,” I said, pointed to a beat up Honda Civic sitting by the curb. “Just throw him in the trunk and I can give you a lift wherever you need to go.”

“Actually, fair lady, my business is with you.”

“Riiiight. Any hints?” I asked.

“I have a proposition for future employment.”

Now, that’s more like it. Business had been slow recently. I operated in Los Angeles, the city of broken dreams and assorted crap. There are millions of folks over here, each of them with huge imaginations and no outlet. It tends to attract a certain crowd from the Other Side. And when I say Other Side, I’m not talking about Brentwood.

There is this whole alternate world that exists in the same place, just a separate plane of existence, as the world that most humans know. There are some gifted folks, like my mom, that can see in between these planes and figure out how one world is going to screw with the other (because that’s what we do). For every push on Earth, there is a pull on the Other Side. Normally, the two worlds stay happily on their respective planes, but sometimes the veil is kinda thin. It happens when things get out of whack, and let me tell you something, there is nothing balanced about Los Angeles. It is life lived with the volume cranked to 11 and with that much energy being put out, it’s like a light to a moth - except these moths are seven-feet tall and will eat your face.

That’s not to say the Other Side is filled with only monsters. Hell, I live there. There are some pretty good folks and sometimes they come over to Earth for a nice little staycation. Central Casting has a field day when the circus comes to town. All the movie monster extras you need, no prosthetics required!

But, unfortunately, I don’t get to deal with those dudes. I get to deal with the scum of the magical world. Vampires, werewolves, trolls, you name it. If it is gross and wants to kill somebody, that’s where I come in. It’s my job to haul them back to the Other Side - undead or alive.

I popped the trunk and stood appreciatively as the elf dumped the V-pire amidst my spare tire and crossbow.

“A job, huh?”

The elf nodded.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Killian, at your command.”

He bowed deeply, giving me a good look at his muscular back. I could think of a couple of commands but none of them were appropriate within 500 feet of a church.

“Right. Hop in. We’ll talk,” I said as I slid behind the wheel, the car dinging at me insistently to buckle up my seatbelt. “So, what’s this job?”

And that’s when my car felt like it had been hit by a freight train.

“Hang on!” Killian cried.