Tracking the Tempest (29 page)

“I know you do, Jane. It's a classic. Now, just hold on to my arm…”

Iris managed to pull me out into the parking lot, waving Marcus away when he tried to help. “She's got me,” I explained to the ice chest that stood outdoors next to the Sty's entrance.

“I sure do, Jane. I'm just going to prop you up right… here… while I find my keys…”

Iris was digging through her voluminous purse, her golden hair flowing down around her like a nimbus of light and butterflies, when I realized something.

“Iris, I love you.”

The succubus laughed. “I know you do, Jane.”

“No, really. I love you.”

“I know, babycakes.”

“No,
seriously
. I really love you. And I know you always try to make out with me but that you don't mean it because you're a sex demon and whatnot. So we're cool.”

“We're not demons, Jane. And where the hell did I put my… There they are. C'mon, honey.”

“Did I tell you I loved you?”

“Yeah, you did. I love you, too.”

I shook my head, pulling us up short. “No, Iris. I really like my life now, and you're part of that. Thank you.”

Iris laughed and brushed the hair from my face.

“You're welcome, pookie,” she said as she pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Did I tell you I loved you?” I mumbled against her mouth.

She was laughing, still kissing me, when we were ambushed. An all-too-familiar voice rang out from the Sty's parking lot.

“I always knew you were a fucking dyke, Jane. What with all your dyke friends.”

Stuart, bless him, always had a knack for bad timing. But this time it almost got him blasted to smithereens.

I whirled around, a swirling orb of iron-gray power aloft in my hand. I only just managed to keep from blasting it at Stu when I realized he wasn't one of my other more dangerous enemies.

“What the fuck?” Stuart stammered, his face white as he backpedaled to where his SUV was parked.

Yeah, what the fuck?
the Balvenie burbled in my veins. I had no idea where I'd pulled the mage ball from.

“… fucking freak,” Stu garbled, just as he tripped in a pothole, falling on his back.

Fry the sucker,
the part of me that was bloodthirsty and frazzled and sick of being pushed around advised.
And you'll never have to deal with his shit again
…

I looked at Stuart and I looked at the ball of light. Then I let it fizzle and die, reabsorbing its power like a good little girl.

“Make him forget, please,” I asked Iris as I lurched toward her little pink car.

Her already big eyes were huge in her face as she turned to glamour Stuart. I leaned my suddenly heated forehead against the cool steel frame of her car door, and I let myself shake it out. I'd been
this
close to killing Stu, and the thought horrified me. Despite the fact that he was a complete and utter butt munch.

Then Iris drove me home, and we sat in her car in my driveway for a bit to talk.

“I totally thought the human was toast.”

“Yeah, well, he sucks. But he doesn't deserve to die.”

“That's debatable. Did you see his shoes? They involved
velcro
.”

I couldn't help but laugh. Iris definitely had her own, very particular, priorities.

“G'night, Iris.”

“Good night, Jane.”

As I was getting out of the car, Iris stopped me.

“Jane? When you said that you learned a lot last week, you were right. I'm really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Iris.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“Okay. Well, thank you.”

“If you need me, call.”

I was still mumbling my thanks to Iris for being such a good friend as I let myself into the house. Then, after listening for my dad's snores to make sure he was asleep, I left him a note and grabbed my sleeping bag.

The sand in my little cove was soft as a bed, and I lay down with a happy sigh. I stared up at the stars through heavy eyelids and thought about the coming weeks.

I think part of me had still thought of my new life as a game, despite everything that had happened at the Compound so many months ago. But now I knew it was no game. Or, if it was, it was one of Russian roulette.

So I knew I had to be ready for whatever came next. No more joking around. Tomorrow, I'd find Nell, and we'd
really
train. I wouldn't fantasize about tossing her about by the bun. Or about riding away on her little pony. I'd work my tail off till I could divvy out the whoopass like a
real
action-adventure heroine.

But first I needed some rest.

Between the familiar comfort of my cove and the strangely soothing sucking sounds of the Old Sow, I finally felt safe enough to sleep. At one point during the night, I did start to dream about Graeme. But my nightmare was dispelled by a warm pant of cardamom breath on my cheek, followed by the caress of a dog's soft tongue. I shifted automatically as a big, soft, and very furry form nestled in the sand next to me. Snuggling against the huge dog and mumbling my thanks against his hairy side for saving me from dream-Graeme, my exhausted brain was pulled deeper into sleep as, after what felt like weeks, I finally felt safe.

Now graced with peaceful slumber, in my dreams Graeme exited stage left as Anyan entered stage right. In reality, while I slept, the real Anyan was curled up next to me in his doggy form. But in my dream world, my subconscious had grown tired of indulging my conscious mind's usual repression tactics. So dream-Jane watched as dream-Anyan shifted from doggy to man. Then dream-Jane's eyes bulged as she realized her sleeping brain had dressed the barghest in that big smile of his. And nothing else.

The dream that followed was definitely not a nightmare. Except it did leave me sweating and wide-eyed and more than a little disconcerted upon waking. At least I was alone, but for a long, black dog hair that I pulled out of my mouth.

I laid the hair down on the sand next to me and stared at it for a bit before I pulled my sleeping bag back over my head.

Ryu was going to be so pissed.

Acknowledgments

My family, as always, comes first. A million thanks to Rella, Dennis, Chris, Lisa, Wyatt, and Abby Peeler for their limitless support, love, and enthusiasm.

I would like to thank Devi Pillai and Rebecca Strauss, my editrix and my agent, for giving me this amazing opportunity. Thanks to everyone else at McIntosh and Otis and at Orbit for their hard work, as well—especially Ian Polonsky, Alex Lencicki, Jack Womack, Lauren Panepinto, and Jenn Flax. You've all made me feel like
part of this amazing extended family. Granted, it's an extended family with Orc heads in the closets, but that suits me just fine.

Thank you, Sharon Tancredi, for another brilliant cover. You've given Jane such beautiful and vivid life.

I extend huge amounts of gratitude to my Alpha Readers, Christie Ko and Dr. James Clawson, and to my new critique partner, Diana Rowland. You helped me whip a flabby rough draft into shape, and I owe you many a beer.

I also have to thank the illustrious Dr. and Mrs. Whisky and their wee dram. You two couldn't be more amazing friends. Thank you for the drinks, the laughter, the love, and the party.

Finally, I'd like to thank all of my friends, colleagues, and students here in Shreveport. A special shout-out goes to Dr. Mary Lois White, for being My One Friend for so many months as well as the newest member of my Alpha Team. But thanks to all of you for putting up with my constant crabbiness and deadline stress. And thanks to everyone at LSUS for being ridiculously supportive to an academic turned urban fantasist. It's been a wild ride, but y'all have been marvelous.

extras

meet the author

Nicole D. Peeler
does not have any cats, kids, or husbands. Instead, she vexes literature in her new role as an assistant professor of English literature at Louisiana State University in Shreveport. Although she's excited to call Louisiana home, she has previously set up shop in her native Illinois, as well as in Boston, Spain, and Scotland. Nicole is ashamed of her dreadful potty mouth and fervently wishes that she were taller. To learn more about the author, visit
www.nicolepeeler.com
.

introducing

If you enjoyed
TRACKING THE TEMPEST
,
look out for

TEMPEST'S LEGACY

Book Three of the Jane True series
by Nicole Peeler

“… you cannot deny me this, Anyan,” I raged at the barghest's retreating form. I moved to confront him when Ryu's voice came from behind me.

“Jane, Anyan's right. Your coming is a bad idea.”

I ignored Ryu. I wasn't talking to him, yet.

“You know I have to do this,” I demanded, spearing Anyan with my gaze.

The barghest shook his shaggy head. “Which is exactly why you're not coming, woman. You're furious and this isn't a vengeance quest. This is bigger than any of us, and I'm not going to waste time chasing after you chasing shadows.”

“Anyan, I swear to the gods that if you treat me like a fucking child, I am going to take that saddlebag and shove it up your—”

From behind me, my rant was interrupted by an unwelcome hand on my shoulder.

“Jane, listen to me. I know you're upset—”

Suddenly, it was as if something broke and all of the feelings of shame, hurt, and anger that had been roiling around impotently inside me for the past two months lashed out. I was so tired of playing these games: so tired of being underestimated and overlooked and manipulated. What happened in Boston had changed me, and although I still looked like mild-mannered Jane True, the selkie halfling, backing up my comfortable little body was a whole fuck load of thuggishly brutal elemental force and pure, un-Jane-like venom.

Still in control enough that I didn't actually hurt him, I allowed my power to flatten Ryu. One minute he was standing behind me, hand on my shoulder, and the next he was sprawled on the ground. I let my force sit on his chest like a lolling mastiff, effectively pinning him and keeping him quiet at the same time.

Anyan's eyes widened, staring behind me to where Ryu lay prostrate. Before the barghest could snap up his own powerful shields, I was on him.

I surrounded Anyan with a ball of my own energy, keeping him open, exposed, and vulnerable. I narrowed my power into a rough imitation of two fingers that poked him squarely in the chest. The big man grunted, taking a small step backward.

“Now you listen to me, dog breath. I am
not
a child. I am
not
weak.”

To emphasize my point, I gave him another hard jab to the sternum. He took another startled step back.

“I know when to stay out of shit, and I know I've been weak in the past. But I'm not that girl any longer.” One more poke and Anyan gave more ground.

“You have two choices. You say this isn't personal; I say bullshit. So either you take me with you on your official investigation or I'll come, anyway. You can't keep me from following you.” I shoved him, much harder than before, hard enough to make him stagger. I stalked toward him, using my power to punctuate my points.

“You can't keep me from being one step behind you the entire way.”

Shove.

“You can't stop me from going into the Borderlands and meeting these contacts of yours.”

Shove.

“You aren't my father.” Shove. “You don't control me.” Shove. “You don't tell me what to do.” Shove. “I'm stronger than Ryu; I'm stronger than you. And you can't stop me from coming with you.”

With those words, I let the wodge of power that I used to hold down Ryu spread out, pressing him harder into the earth. I knew the baobhan sith wasn't the issue, however; the one who stood between me and my goal was standing in front of me. But not for long.

“I'm coming with you, Anyan,” I said, as I pulled a
Gladiator
and unleashed hell.

I let my Atlantic's power manifest itself forward, blasting out of me to lift the barghest off his feet. It took him up, up, and then flipped him over onto his back. Anyan hung there, in midair, for a split second. And then I drilled him back down into the earth. Feeling him call to his element, I knew the ground helped to cushion him from the brunt of the impact. But he still landed hard enough to create an Anyan-shaped crater. He lay spread-eagled, the wind undoubtedly knocked out of him.

So there I was. Before me lay the man with whom I thought I was in love, while behind me lay the man who thought he loved me. I'd laid them both out flat with my rage-fueled force. But I felt no satisfaction, no relief. Even now, my emotions beat through me, a blend of the sharpest grief, the fiercest anger, and a thirst for vengeance so powerful I should have been seeing red. I didn't recognize myself, and part of me was afraid. But most of me was simply so very angry.

Whatever happened to Jane True?