Praise for the Novels
of Ann Aguirre
Shady Lady
“Aguirre has a gift for creating strong characters who keep her readers coming back for more.”
—Publishers Weekly
“There is so much good stuff packed into this book. Surprise character transformations, rich world building, gorgeous writing, killer action scenes and hot romance…Urban fantasy fans will want to get drunk on this series.…[It] just keeps getting better.”
—All Things Urban Fantasy
“You’ll be hooked from the very first sentence! This Corine Solomon novel is consistently awesome, from the first page to the very last. Not only is the plot riveting and relentless—the characters show true growth and development. Aguirre fashions an ending that is satisfying, while leaving readers wanting more.”
—Romantic Times (top pick)
“Kudos to [Ann] Aguirre for crafting one of the best paranormal series that I have had the pleasure of reading.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“A fabulous action-packed thriller that hooks grateful (except for the lack of sleep) subgenre fans from the moment Kel rushes into Corine’s store, and never slows down until the final confrontation with the Montoya mob of hit men and magical mobsters.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
Hell Fire
“Riveting.…Full of well-drawn characters, a nearly tangible setting, and the threat of death around every corner, this spine-chilling paranormal mystery is sure to keep readers turning pages—and glancing over their shoulders.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A well-paced plot with a satisfying amount of suspense. Aguirre mixes the supernatural with real-life details and makes this well-crafted story feel authentic.”
—Romantic Times
“Fans of the first book, never fear; this is a good, solid follow-up that left me hungry for more.”
—Calico Reaction
“Reading Hell Fire is a completely sensory experience that would be half as immersive in the hands of a lesser writer.”
—All Things Urban Fantasy
“Sets a new bar for Ann Aguirre.”
—Fantasy Literature
“Hell Fire has a searing triangle romance, breathtaking paranormal elements, intimate adventure, mature point of view, and solid writing craft.”
—Lightworks
Blue Diablo
“Ann Aguirre proves herself yet again in this gritty, steamy, and altogether wonderful urban fantasy. Outstanding and delicious. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs
“An authentic Southwestern-flavored feast, filled with magic, revenge, and romance, spiced with memorable characters and page-turning action. ¡Muy caliente!”
—New York Times bestselling author Rachel Caine
“Corine has a great narrative voice—snappy and full of interesting observations on everything around her.…[Blue Diablo is] fast-paced and entertaining.”
—Charles de Lint, The Magazine of
Fantasy & Science Fiction
“The fast and furious pace combined with interesting characters, powerful antagonists, and the promise of romance make for a strong first entry in the series.”
—Monsters and Critics
“Ms. Aguirre plunges readers into a fast-paced tale where her human characters are enhanced by their extraordinary gifts. Blue Diablo delivers a strong start to the series with a well-defined heroine, intriguing paranormal elements, and an emotion-filled romance.”
—Darque Reviews
“Rising star Aguirre moves from outer space to the Southwest in this new first-person series. With murder, magic, and romance, this is an enticingly dangerous journey. Don’t miss out!”
—Romantic Times
“The first Corine Solomon urban detective fantasy is a great tale filled with magic, paranormal powers, demons, and spirits bound to the necro. The heat between the lead couple is palpable.…This is an enthralling romantic urban fantasy.”
—Midwest Book Review
Also by Ann Aguirre
CORINE SOLOMON NOVELS
Blue Diablo
Hell Fire
Shady Lady
SIRANTHA JAX NOVELS
Grimspace
Wanderlust
Doubleblind
Killbox
Aftermath
ANN AGUIRRE
DEVIL’S
PUNCH
A CORINE SOLOMON NOVEL
A ROC BOOK
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, April 2012
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Copyright © Ann Aguirre, 2012
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-101-57995-4
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Printed in the United States of America
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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For Jen, who saw the beauty in the bones
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Laura Bradford, my shiny agent, who never tells me an idea is terrible. I also doff my hat to Anne Sowards, Kat Sherbo, and the Penguin team. (I don’t actually wear hats, but it’s an awesome image, right? Thought so.)
Jen, Bree, Lauren…and the PoP loop, of course. You’re my go-to crew. You never let me down. *fist bump*
Next, there’s my family. I love you guys so much. Thanks for everything. I feel like there are no words, which sucks, considering what I do for a living. Just know that every pot of veggie chili is chock-full of love. And beans.
Thumbs up to my fabulous proofreaders, Fedora Chen and Katy Sprinkel, and to my copy editor, Jan McInroy, who a did a terrific job on this book.
Finally, I thank caffeine, liquor, and chocolate—without which none of this would be possible.
And as always, I offer utmost appreciation to my readers. Y’all rock. Please keep writing; that’s
[email protected] I love hearing from you.
Table of Contents
New Beginnings
Witchy Business
Bad News Travels Fast
Sweet Lethe
The Descent
Here There Be Demons
Maelstrom of Doom
The Deadliest Desire
Chasm of Despair
Balls to the Wall
Sweetness and Light
Dark City
Burn It Down
I’m Not Quite Dead Yet
Rock Steady
Club Hell
Hungry Like the Wolf
The Demon Queen
Best-Laid Plans
Death Match
No Mercy
Make It Quick
No Way Back
True Justice
The Court Convenes
The Spell of the Ball
Kiss Me Like You Mean It
All In
The Running Game
Pretty, Pretty Pain
My Sweetest Downfall
Exit, Stage Death
Collateral Damage
The Endless Unknown
Demon Castes
Author’s Note
About the Author
Endgame
New Beginnings
I carried the last of Chance’s boxes up to the flat.
Mexico agreed with my ex, physically speaking. The constant sun was similar to Florida, though the weather was milder and more temperate in the mountains, the humidity lower, and so his skin glowed golden, a fine contrast to his inky hair. His features were sharp, feline, but sculpted in a way that you could stare for hours and never tire of marveling at the cut of his cheekbones or the curve of his mouth.
Looking at his impossible beauty, I was reminded again that he wasn’t human. He didn’t sweat or grow facial hair. Once I’d written that off as a unique genetic boon, but it was unquestionably more. While his mother, Min, was human, I was positive his father had been something else. I had no idea what.
Smiling at me, Chance was confident again, and I’d always loved that about him. Generally speaking, he didn’t indulge in long moments of self-doubt. He brushed past me on the stairs, carrying a carton of linens; he smelled of lemon, carambola, and rosewood, top notes from his cologne, Versace Man Eau Fraîche. Less familiar than the Burberry he’d once sworn by, but I didn’t smell of frangipani anymore either. By tacit agreement, we’d decided on a fresh start all the way.
My ex had been serious when he said he’d do whatever it took to be with me, including moving south of the border and starting a new life. The two of us had a complicated history, fraught with old mistakes and regret. But maybe this time our relationship had a real shot.
His building was simple stucco, painted canary yellow with azure trim, a bold color scheme typical of the neighborhood. Down the block, there was a house painted lavender and mint green. His new place had a fantastic view of the mountains instead of the crowded streets below. I stood by the window, lost in thought. Chance was lucky to find something close to Tia’s house. In Spanish, tía meant aunt, and I’d never been clear if people had been calling her Auntie so long it had supplanted her proper name. At any rate, she’d adopted me as part of her family; I felt like a favored niece with her. In recent days, she’d become my mentor as well.
After we’d returned to find my store in ruins, Tia let Chance sleep on the couch while he sought a place of his own; it took three weeks for him to locate a one-bedroom in the neighborhood. During his search, I sorted out the paperwork and paid the workmen with Escobar’s money; he was the rival drug lord with whom I’d allied to take out the Montoya cartel before they could kill me. The Montoyas put me on their hit list over the part I’d played in liberating Chance’s mother from their clutches. So maybe joining forces with Escobar wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did, but it felt like my only viable choice for survival at the time. Ergo, I made a pact with Escobar to destroy the Montoyas, and when we succeeded, I walked out with a briefcase full of money—well, enough to rebuild my pawnshop.
It would be better than before, once it was finished, and I’d still have a nest egg in case of future disasters. With Chance around, such events became more likely. Oh, he had his own money, and he’d help, if he felt responsible, but I didn’t want to depend on him—or anyone—again. I’d learned how well I like self-reliance.
After Chance shook hands on a rental agreement, he’d offered to let me room with him, no strings, but I didn’t want to start our relationship that way. Living together right off? Uh-uh. I’d meant it when I told him I wanted to go slow.
When Tia offered to let me stay with her while I rebuilt, it seemed like the ideal solution. I got a place to live; she benefited from my help around the house and I could drive her around more easily. Plus she was training me to the extent that she knew spells and charms. No matter how inept I proved, she never lost patience.
Any other curandera wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole. By dealing with Maury and summoning his mate, Dumah, to solve my problems, I’d marked myself as a black witch, one who trafficked in demons. Maury was the entropy demon I’d set free in Kilmer; he saved my life when one of the elders stabbed me that horrible night in the forest. When that debt came due, he had me summon his mate in repayment. I managed to trick him on the letter of the agreement, so while Dumah writhed inside the circle, I renegotiated our terms. In the end, I wound up with his reluctant acquiescence to use his mate as backup against the Montoyas. When push came to shove, I did. I fed those men to a demon to save my own life.
That decision made me anathema to those who worked on the side of right and light, though I was hardly a witch at all, having just realized I could access my mother’s magick, along with the awful touch that once comprised my sole skill. When my mother died saving my life, I gained the ability to read objects with a touch, known among the gifted as psychometry, but my talent wasn’t natural and painless; it carried the pain of the fire that claimed my mother. In the dark Georgia woods where I found her necklace, I touched the metal and unlocked the rest of her abilities. From that point, I felt the difference in my blood and bone. I knew that spells would respond as they never had before.
Fortunately, Tia had studied the darkness of my choices, and then she shook her head. “What I see you’ve done, that’s not your heart,” she’d said. “I know you.”
Most wouldn’t be so kind or understanding. Already, I’d noticed a few people crossing the street to avoid me. As in the U.S., there were gifted in Mexico, but because of my crippled abilities—and the limitation of the touch—I could never ID them unless we made contact and our talents sparked. Now, with my witch sight, I could spot them from a distance, not an aura but a halo of dark or light, depending on their gift and how they used it. My own was a grimy mixture of bright and shadow, mottled from my contact with Maury and Dumah. I tried not to look at it any more than I had to. If there was a way to scrub off those choices, I didn?
??t know what it would be. No, the consequences would remain with me forever. Even if I spent my lifetime doing good deeds, practicing white magick, at best I would be—to others—a nether witch who denied her fundamental nature.
Even if the viper doesn’t bite, it’s still a snake.
Despite ostracism from some of her friends and colleagues, Tia had taken me into her home. I’d asked, “Don’t you mind? They won’t speak to you anymore. You’re an outcast now…like me.”
She’d given me a fleeting smile. “I’m too old to care about such things, child. I don’t have much longer, and I choose to spend those days helping you. At least you’re willing to do my shopping when my legs hurt. That’s more than I can say for Juanita Lopez.”
I’d laughed, because Juanita was one of the worst; she’d hated me since my return. Before, she’d paid no attention to me at all. Apparently, my mother’s magick made me register on their visual radars well, whereas the touch had permitted me to run silent. Now I was a marked target.
With effort, I put the dark thoughts aside. Tia had been kind to me. I would make sure she didn’t suffer. She’d helped me with the grimoires I inherited from my mother, explaining various techniques. And she teased me mercilessly about Chance. He was good with her from experience with his own mother, Min.
“You should keep this one,” Tia would say. “You’ll make beautiful babies.”
I always laughed. It was almost—almost—enough to make me forget other pain. But I’d lost so much. Jesse, my almost-boyfriend, who didn’t remember me. My best friend, Shannon, who I missed even more than the man I’d thought I might love. In Laredo, I’d cast a forget spell—and screwed it up, giving the charm too much power—and fogged myself right out of their minds. Deep down I hoped the phone would ring soon. That the effect would wear off, and they’d both yell at me, and then everything could go back to the way it was.
But we don’t always get what we wish for. So far, my cell phone had been silent. No Shannon. No Jesse. And for obvious reasons, no Kel. He wasn’t—couldn’t—be here. It was awful that I wanted him to be, even a little bit, with Chance craving my attention. Kel wasn’t for me; rationally, I knew that. He was Nephilim, committed to fighting for all eternity. He didn’t have a life apart from his orders, and so there was nothing for me with him. It had been around two months since I’d seen him, three weeks since I’d come home. I shouldn’t be thinking of him. I should file our brief connection under MISTAKES I’VE MADE, or more accurately, THINGS I WANT BUT CAN’T HAVE.