Christina Henry - Black Wings

Table of Contents

A fun, fast ride through the gritty streets of magical Chicago, Black Wings has it all: a gutsy heroine just coming into her power, badass bad guys, a sexy supernatural love interest and a scrappy gargoyle sidekick. Highly recommended.

Nancy Holzner, author of Deadtown

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT

Can I help you? a voice murmured behind me.

I was pretty out of it, and Gabriels voice made me jump about three feet in the airfrom my knees, no less. I did a kind of jerky half turn and fell to my left side, landing on my elbow so I wouldnt squash Beezle while keeping him out of Gabriels sight. The impact reverberated through every hurt muscle and bone in my body, and I gritted my teeth as I glared up at him.

Knock much? I said.

The door was open, he said, gesturing down the stairs. He stood in the doorway, looking just as cool and dark and beautiful as he had the day before. He wore the same expensive coat and shoes, and the slightest of creases appeared between his eyebrows as he frowned down at me. May I ask what happened to you?

Oh, a giant freaking demon was just here trying to take my heart and bring it back to his master. No big...

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

BLACK WINGS

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / December 2010

Copyright 2010 by Tina Raffaele.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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eISBN: 9781101455043

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ACE and the A design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

For Chris and Henry, who make everything worthwhile

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks go to C. P. Chang, who patiently read each draft and without whose comments and encouragement this book would not have been completed.

A very big thank-you to Danielle Stockley at Ace, who helped shape the final draft and make Black Wings the best book it could be.

Much gratitude is due to Cameron Dufty, who gave me a chance in the first place.

Finally, none of this would have been possible without the persistent love and encouragement of my parents, who always believed I could do it.

I HATE IT WHEN A SOUL GOES ALL STUBBORN ON ME. It doesnt happen as often as youd think. Most people understand that theyre dead and want to move on. Maybe its because they think Heaven is waiting for them. Maybe its because they believe theyll be reincarnated as the Princess of Monacodoes anybody want to be reincarnated as the Princess of Monaco anymore? Maybe its because theyre just tired of this world. When I show up to escort them to the Door, they know why Im there and theyre ready to go. But sometimes, like today, a soul doesnt want to leave its earthly body.

Mrs. Luccardi didnt want to leave her catsall fifteen of them. People get very attached to their pets. In fact, Ive seen a fair number of people more attached to their pets than to their children. I understand that they feel like their little four-legged buddy is part of the family. What I have to make them understand is that they are dead, and can no longer feed, groom, or cuddle little Muffy, Flopsy, or Fido. It can be a delicate job, convincing the recently deceased of their new status.

Mrs. Luccardi, youre dead, I said. You cant take care of your cats anymore. Someone else will have to do that now.

I fought the urge to cover my nose as I said this. Mrs. Luccardi was recently deceased and therefore immune to the reek of cat piss that permeated her doily-covered living room, but I was very much alive and getting tired of breathing through my mouth.

Aside from my burning need to breathe air unscented by eau de cat urine, I had two other pressing reasons for getting Mrs. Luccardi out of there. First, I had a potential tenant coming to look at the empty apartment in my building in twenty minutes, and I didnt want to piss off a possible source of income by showing up late. Second, some of Mrs. Luccardis precious darlings were contemplating her cooling body with buffet in their eyes. I did not want Mrs. Luccardi to see her babies gnawing through her flowered housedress to flesh and bone. That kind of thing tends to traumatize the newly dead and prevents an Agent from an efficient escort to the Door.

If the soul doesnt enter the Door, then it becomes a ghost. Agents dont like ghosts. Theyre untidy. The presence of a ghost means you cant close your list, and if you cant close your list, you have to file extra paperwork to explain why you cant, and I absolutely hate doing any paperwork at all, period. So I really wanted Mrs. Luccardi to leave her carnivorous little fuzzballs and come with me, pronto.

I hadnt even untethered her soul yet. Her incorporeal self floated above the body on the plastic-covered sofa, bound by a thin strand of ectoplasm. I was supposed to cut this strand with magic or my silver knife and release the soul. The knife, along with my Agent status, had been passed to me by my mother when she died.

In life and death, Mrs. Luccardi was a small, thin woman with a head of white curlsthe kind of old lady my mother used to call a Q-tip. She glared at me through red plastic spectacles.

I dont care if Im dead, missy. Im not leaving my babies, she snapped. Besides, look at you. Im supposed to believe youre an Agent of death? Youre covered in flour.

I was in the middle of making a pear tart dotted with gorgonzola. Youre an unscheduled call. Besides, I said, pointing to my back, dont you think the wings are a clue?