J.T. Ellison - The Immortals (Taylor Jackson)

Praise for J.T.Ellison

"Carefullyorchestrated plot twists and engrossing characters... The story moves atbreakneck speed... Flawed yet identifiable characters and genuinely terrifyingvillains populate this impressive and arresting thriller." PublishersWeekly on JudasKiss [starred review]

"Crime fiction has a new name towatch." John Connolly

"Combines The Silence of the Lambs with TheWire," January Magazine on TheCold Room

"Darklycompelling and thoroughly chilling... everything a great crime thriller shouldbe." Allison renna n on Allthe Pretty Girls

"A twisty,creepy and wonderful book... Ellison is relentless and grabs the reader fromthe first page and refuses to let go until the soul tearing climax." Crimespree on

A tightand powerful story. JudasKiss moves at a rapid-firerate...rushing like adrenaline through the bloodstream." TheStrand Magazine

"Flawlesslyplotted, with well-defined characters and conflict...quite simply a gem." RTBook Reviews [Top Pick] on TheCold Room

"A terrificlead character, terrific suspense, terrific twists...a completely convincingdebut." Lee Child on ll thePrettyGiris

Alsoby J T Ellison

THECOLD ROOM

JUDASKISS

ALL THEPRETTY GIRLS

Lookfor JTEllison's next novel

SOCLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH

availableMarch2011

For Jill Thompson (tiamomolto!) and mydarling Randy.

These eightwords the Rede fulfill: "An ye harm none, do what ye will." Doreen Valiente The Wiccan Rede

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindlystopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality.

Emily Dickinson

BecauseICouldNot Stop for Death

Third Quarter Moon Samhain (Halloween)

One

Nashville, Tennessee October3:30p.m.

T aylor Jackson stood at attention, arms behind her back, her dress bluesitching her wrists. She was feeling more than a bit embarrassed. She'd askedfor this to be done without ceremony, just a simple here you go, you're back inour good graces, but the chief was having nothing of it. He'd insisted she notonly receive her lieutenant's badge again, but be decorated as well, in a verypublic ceremony. Her union rep was thrilled, and at her direction, had droppedthe lawsuit she'd been forced to file against the department when they demotedher without cause. Taylor was pleased, as well. She'd been fighting to getreinstated, and she had to admit it was nice to put all of this behind her. Butthe pomp and circumstance was a bit much.

It hadbeen a long afternoon. Taylor felt like a show pony, was flushed with theoverly exuberant praise of her career, her involvement in catching theConductor, a serial killer who'd killed two women back-to-back, kidnapped athird and fled Nashville with Taylor hot on his heels. She'd arrested him inItaly, and the story had immediately caught international headlines, because at the same time, she'd been party tothe capture of one of Italy's most notorious serial killers, Il Macellaio. In the world of sound bitesand news at your fingertips, taking two serial killers into custody hadgarnered so much attention that the chief had been forced into action.

Not onlywas she being reinstated; Taylor had command of the murder squad again, and herteam was being reassembled. Detectives Lincoln Ross and Marcus Wade wereshipped back up from the South Sector, and after a long discussion with thechief, she'd even talked him into allowing Renn McKenzie to become part of thepermanent team. She had her boys back.

Most of them.

PeteFitzgerald had fallen off the face of the earth. Taylor had last talked to himwhen he was in Barbados, anchored and waiting for a new part for his boat'sengine. He'd called to let her know he thought he'd seen their old nemesis, andshe hadn't heard from him since. She was sick with worry, convinced that Fitzhad been taken by the Pretender, a killer so obscene, so cruel that he invadedher dreams and consumed her waking moments . A killer Taylor hadn'tcaught; the one who'd quite literally gotten away.

Herconcerns had been compounded just last week, when the Coast Guard had picked up a distress signal off thecoast of North Carolina. The GPS beacon matched the registered number for Fitz' s boat. Despite countlessdays of searching, nothing had been found. The Coast Guard had been forced tocall off the search, and the police in North Carolina couldn't get involvedbecause there was no crime to be investigated. She had a call in to the NorthCarolina State Bureau of Investigations, in the hope they would see things differently,but she hadn't heard anything yet.

Taylortried to shake off the thought of Fitz, of his body broken and battered, ofwhat the Pretender was doing to him, or had done. The guilt spilled through herblood, making it chilly. She'd issued a challenge to the Pretender, told him tocome and get her. Instead, she was positive he'd taken her friend, the manclosest to her, aside from Baldwin. Her father figure. She had probably gottenFitz killed, and she found that knowledge desperately hard to stomach.

Shelooked into the crowd, the sea of blue seated in compact rows before her. JohnBaldwin, her fianc, sat in the front, grinning. His hair was too long again, the black wavesfalling over his forehead and ears in a tumble. She resisted the urge to rollher eyes; that was sure to get on the evening news, and she didn't want anymore attention than she already had. She touched her engagement ring instead,twisting the channel-set diamonds around her finger.

Her teamsat beside him: Lincoln Ross, hair grown out just enough to slip in some tinydreadlocks; Marcus Wade, brown-eyed and sweetly happy. He was getting seriouswith his girlfriend, and Taylor had never seen him so content. The new memberof the team, Renn McKenzie, was at Marcus's left. Taylor saw McKenzie' s partner, Hugh Bangor, a few rows back. They'd been very discreet only Taylor and Baldwinknew they were an item.

Even herold boss Mitchell Price was there, smiling benevolently at her. He'd been acasualty of the events that led to Taylor losing her badge in the first place,but had moved on. He was running a personal protection service catering tocountry music stars, and had made it clear that anytime Taylor wanted to bailon Nashville Metro, she was welcome to join him.

Fitz wasthe only one missing. She forced the lump in her throat away.

The chiefwas pinning something to her uniform now. He stood back with a wide smile andstarted clapping. The audience followed suit, and Taylor wished she coulddisappear. This was not what she wanted, this open, public enthusiasm on herbehalf.

The chiefgestured to the microphone. Taylor took a deep breath and stepped to thepodium.

Thank you all for beinghere today. I appreciate it more than you know. But we really should behonoring the entire team who participated. I couldn't have done any of thiswithout the help of DetectiveRenn McKenzie,Supervisory Special Agent John Baldwin, Detective James Highsmytheof theLondon Metropolitan Police, and all the officers of the Metro Police whoparticipated, in small ways and in large, on the case. The city of Nashvilleowes these men and women a debt of gratitude. Now, enough of the hoopla. Let'sgo back to work."

Laughterrippled through the crowd, and they clapped again. Lincoln whistled, twofingers stuck in his mouth, and this time she did roll her eyes. Baldwin winkedat her, his clear green gaze full of pride. With her back ramrod straight andher ears burning, she thanked the chief and the other dignitaries, nodded ather new boss, Commander Joan Huston, and made her way off the dais. Peoplebegan milling about; the language of the force rang in her ears like a mother'slullaby. She was back, and it felt damn good.