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”
    “Take the pickup,” Devlin said, leaving her question, her doubt, unanswered. “Gabrielle, she expecting it.”
    “I want you to know — ”
    Devlin shook his head. “Go.”
    At the pickup, Cass glanced back the way she’d come through the dark. Devlin had stripped and hunkered down, his pale-skinned body shifting. On all fours, he ran into the night. She watched until he was gone, a swift black shape caught for a moment in the moonlight.
     
    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
     
    C ass held Alex’s hand. The fresh fragrance of lilacs drifted through the room. The harsh coughing from the next bed had ceased — the bed empty and stripped bare. Out in the hall, voices called over the intercom, paging doctors and squawking codes. Inside, the machines monitoring Alex blipped and beeped.
    Cass drifted into half dreams of the night and the moon, of autumn fires and gleaming eyes, of a black wolf and a man. But in her hands, she cupped the sun. A sun she could no longer see.
    Caught forever between, the loup garou and her, trapped between skin and fur, sun and moon, justice and vision. Maybe the walk along hell’s road never truly ended.
    Grief squatted like a gargoyle on Cass’s heart. Her Michelangelo would need a new apprentice. And his brother was gone forever. But maybe Raleigh had vanished the moment he’d pulled the trigger. And Helena? The tiger defending the sleeping cub? Cass didn’t know. She hadn’t spoken to or even seen her sister since the mambo had led her from the kitchen.
    Murder was murder, wasn’t it? Killing for love no cleaner than killing out of envy, no cleaner than asking another to kill for you.
    Wasn’t it?
    Shaking free of her half dreams, Cass glanced down into eyes of deepest blue, cool and soothing: a mountain lake; a twilight sky just before the stars sparked to life. Her breath caught in her throat.
    Alex had opened his eyes.
    ###
     
     
    Afterword
     
    Just a quick note to let y’all know that the French contained in this story is actually Cajun and therefore often different in spelling, grammar, and sometimes usage. Also, this story is set in the world of my Hoodoo books ( Black Dust Mambo , Black Heart Loa , and(coming soon) Black Moon Mojo ), which also feature from time to time both Gabrielle LaRue and Devlin Daniels.
     
     
    About Adrian
     
    Adrian is the critically acclaimed author of two urban fantasy series: The Maker’s Song series and the Cajun Hoodoo Series (both published by Pocket).And now a brief (ha!) word from Adrian herself. Ahem.
    As a writer, a person, and a mother, I’ve always believed in following your dreams, following your heart. It’s also important to
keep
your heart, so I also believe in being prepared for zombie attacks and can’t stress enough the importance of having regular family drills so every member of the household is zombie-ready. One never knows. Make sure the sofa is ready to push in front of the door. Be clear that if a member of the family is on the wrong side of the door when the zombie action goes down. They remain on the wrong side of the door. The greater good, etc.
    I live in Springfield, Oregon in a zombie-free home (except when meeting deadlines) with four cats, Amiga, Diabla, Ember, and Keats, and have two sons and three grandchildren and two granddogs.
    I love to read and see movies, enjoy hiking with my granddog, Cielo, (immortalized in
Black Dust Mamb
o and
Black Heart Loa
), and hanging out with friends.
    I also love creepy things and yearns to go on a paranormal investigation. I also hope to do a haunted tour one day.
    I also love, love, love music — and anything by Trent Reznor is high on the list. I also love to hear from my readers and fans, so please feel free to contact me at any of the links below!
     
     
    Other Works by Adrian (Novels)
     
    The Maker’s Song series:
    A Rush of Wings
    In the Blood
    Beneath the Skin
    Etched in Bone
    On Midnight Wings (coming soon)
     
    The Hoodoo series
    Black Dust Mambo
    Black Heart Loa
    Black