Tami Dane - Blood of Eden

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Table of Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe a sincere thank-you to a great many people for the help and support they gave me while writing this book. First Id like to thank my wonderful agent, Natasha Kern, for her enthusiasm and dedication. Id also like to thank my editor, Audrey, for seeing the potential in this story and giving me the opportunity to experience the joy of writing it. Id also like to thank the many people who read and critiqued the opening chapters, as well as my wonderful beta readers, April and KB. And finally Id like to thank my husband and children for the encouragement and enthusiasm theyve shown for this story, as well as their patience, as I sat at my desk hour, upon hour, staring at my computer screen and lost in my head.

Thank you all.

Also by Tami Dane:

Werewolves in Chic Clothing

In

The Real Werewives of Vampire County

Man can believe the impossible, but can never believe the improbable.

Oscar Wilde

Rotten eggs and sulphur. Oh, the sweet stench of home.

The gray cloud of parfum dsewer rolled out of my apartment door as I juggled my keys, two mocha lattesheavy on the whipped creamand bagels. Standing in the hallway, I shouted, Is it safe to come in, or do I need my gas mask?

That was not a rhetorical question. My roommate, Katie Lewis, was playing with chemicals again. And I was guessing this mornings experiment was an epic failure.

Shed converted our kitchen into a chem lab last year. Made sense, since neither of us cooked food. Since then, Ive learned to live with safety gear at the ready, at all times. Splash goggles. Gas mask. Fire extinguisher. Fabric deodorizer. It goes without saying, Casa Skye/Lewis isnt the average home of a couple of grad students. But every now and then, having a chemist at my beck and call, 24-7, came in handy. Especially now that Mrs. Heckel in 2B has stopped reporting us to the DEA. Weve been raided twice.

Sloan? Katie was sporting her everyday wearapron, goggles, heavy rubber gloves ... and slippers with stuffed Albert Einstein heads on the tops. It wasnt a look every girl could pull off, but she didand still managed to look cute. If she wasnt such a sweetheart, I might have hated her for it. Did you happen to get cream cheese? Were out.

Sure did. Taking my cue from Katie, who wasnt wearing her gas mask, I hurried inside and shut the door. Whew, whatever you just blew up reeks. Do you have the exhaust fan going?

Grimacing, Katie waved a hand in front of my face. Yeah. The smoke should clear up in a few minutes. Sorry. She slid her goggles to the top of her head and swiped one of the coffees from the cardboard tray.

Did you figure out what went wrong this time?

Not a thing. It was supposed to do that. Katie took a slurp and smacked her lips. Mmm, good coffee. They used just the right amount of chocolate this time. Not too little, not too much.

Good. After I set my coffee and the bag of bagels on the coffee table, which served double duty as our dining table, I headed straight back to my room. I checked the clock on my nightstand. It was a twenty-eight-minute drive to the FBI Academy. That left me exactly four minutes to finish getting ready.

Are you geeked about your big day? Katie hung back, standing just outside my bedroom as I rushed around, digging out my laptop case and tossing the essentials into it. Pens, notebook, spare change, cell phone, Netbook.

I cant tell you how nervous I am. I sighed. I gotta pee again. This is the third time in an hour. I swear, I have the bladder of a sixty-year-old mother of twelve.

Im so excited for you! As I shuffled past her, toward the bathroom, Katie caught my shoulders and gave them a quick shake. My best friends working for the freaking FBI. Youll tell me absolutely everything, right?

Sure, Ill tell you everything that isnt classified. I dashed into the bathroom and took care of my personal issue, hoping I wouldnt get the urge to go again in the next three minutes.

Call me later, Katie yelled through the door.

Will do. I dropped a throwaway toothbrush into my purse, zipped it shut, and, heading out into the hall, scooped up the laptop bag Id left next to the door. Racewalking across the living room, I slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my lukewarm mocha latte and a dry bagel while on the way to the exit. Dont burn the place down while Im gone. Before heading out, I doused myself in Febreze.

Katie pushed her goggles in place and headed toward the kitchen. You have nothing to worry about.

Id heard that before, exactly one minute before the last explosion. And the one before that. What can I say? We both like to live a little dangerously.

With not even a second to spare, I yanked open the door and almost crashed into my mother, her hand raised to knock. She was wearing her threadbare hot pink bathrobeand God only knew what underneath. Two different shoes poked out from beneath the ratty hem, and her hairtoday it was the shade of a new pennylooked like it had been styled with an eggbeater. A huge suitcase sat next to her feet, and an unlit joint as thick as my thumb was protruding from the corner of her mouth.

Nothing new there.

I grinned, plucked the joint out of her mouth, and dropped it into my purse. Hi, Mom. What a pleasant surprise.

Honey, I need your help. The powers out in my building again and the landlord says its my fault. Hes exaggerating, of course.

Of course, I echoed.

Its not my fault the buildings wiring is outdated. I was just trying

Its okay, Mom. You can stay with us until it comes back on. I gave her a peck on the cheek and handed her my coffee as I hurried past. Im sorry, Ive gotta go. Its my first day with the FBI. Theres bagels inside. Your favorite. Ill call you later. After ditching the contraband in the scraggly shrubs next to the buildings main entry, I sprinted out to my car, my laptop case bruising my hip and my empty stomach rumbling. I hit my moms landlords phone number on my cell, programmed on speed dial, prepared to give the usual itll never happen again speech.

Id already handled my mothers little problem and was in the middle of an emergency handbag repairmaking creative use of a couple of paper clips and a broken pencilwhen my new boss, Special Agent Murphy, finally emerged from his office. Theres been a mistake, he informed me. We wont be able to use you this summer....

Of course, theres a problem. There always is. The question is, what can I do

Weve selected another intern....

Another intern?

Im sorry. Murphy scowled and glanced down at his cell phone. Excuse me for just a moment.

I should have known it was too good to be true. But after two decades of dreaming and studying and hoping, ISloan Skye, the only offspring of a schizophrenic philosopher-self-proclaimed inventor and delusional biology professorwanted to believe Id landed the internship of my dreams. I didnt expect it to blow up in my face my first day on the job.

As I struggled to recover from the bomb that Agent Murphy had just lobbed my way, Gabe Wagnerwho should have been doing grunt work for some senator in DC, not anywhere near the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginiacame strolling by.

That was it; I knew exactly what had happened. His internship had fallen through, so somebody had pulled a fast one on me.

Again.

As a few choice expressions played through my mindall of them involving specific anatomical parts and physically impossible actionsI gave Gabe, my frenemy since freshman year, a blindingly bright smile. Hey, Gabe, does this mean the dream job with the Waste Management Department is still open?

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