Demon Mistress Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Epigraph

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CAST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS

  GLOSSARY

  Teaser chapter

  The Otherworld series is “PURE DELIGHT.”

  (New York Times bestselling author MaryJanice Davidson)

  PRAISE FOR DRAGON WYTCH

  “Action and sexy sensuality make this book hot to the touch.”

  —Romantic Times (four stars)

  “Ms. Galenorn has a great gift for spinning a compelling story. The supernatural action is a great blend of both fresh and familiar, the characters are each charming in their own way, the heroine’s love life is scorching, and the worlds they all live in are well-defined.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “This is the kind of series that even those who do not care for the supernatural will find a very good read.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “Ms. Galenorn writes spellbinding stories that keep you on the edge of your seat as well as reaching for a cold glass of water. This is one series where I cannot wait to see what happens next!”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  “If you’re looking for an out-of-this-world enchanting tale of magic and passion, Dragon Wytch is the story for you. I will be recommending this wickedly bewitching tale to everyone I know!”

  —DarkAngelReviews.com

  PRAISE FOR DARKLING

  “The most fulfilling journey of self-discovery to date in the Otherworld series . . . An eclectic blend that works well.”

  —Booklist

  “Galenorn does a remarkable job of delving into the psyches and fears of her characters. As this series matures, so do her heroines. The sex sizzles and the danger fascinates.”

  —Romantic Times

  “The story is nonstop action and has deep, dark plots that kept me up reading long past my bedtime. Here be Dark Fantasy with a unique twist. YES!”

  —HuntressReviews.com

  “Pure fantasy enjoyment from start to finish. I adored the world that Yasmine Galenorn has crafted within the pages of this adventurous urban fantasy story. The characters come alive off the pages of the story with so many unique personalities . . . Yasmine Galenorn is a new author on my list of favorite authors.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  PRAISE FOR CHANGELING

  “The second in Galenorn’s D’Artigo Sisters series ratchets up the danger and romantic entanglements. Along with the quirky humor and characters readers have come to expect is a moving tale of a woman more comfortable in her cat skin than in her human form, looking to find her place in the world.”

  —Booklist

  “Galenorn’s thrilling supernatural series is gritty and dangerous, but it’s the tumultuous relationships between all the various characters that give it depth and heart. Vivid, sexy, and mesmerizing, Galenorn’s novel hits the paranormal sweet spot.”

  —Romantic Times

  “I absolutely loved it!”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Yasmine Galenorn has created another winner. . . . Changeling is a can’t-miss read destined to hold a special place on your keeper shelf.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  PRAISE FOR WITCHLING

  “Reminiscent of Laurell K. Hamilton with a lighter touch . . . a delightful new series that simmers with fun and magic.”

  —Mary Jo Putney, New York Times bestselling author of A Distant Magic

  “The first in an engrossing new series . . . a whimsical reminder of fantasy’s importance in everyday life.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Witchling is pure delight . . . a great heroine, designer gear, dead guys, and Seattle precipitation!”

  —MaryJanice Davidson, New York Times bestselling author of Fish Out of Water

  “Witchling is one sexy, fantastic paranormal-mystery-romantic read.”

  —Terese Ramin, author of Shotgun Honeymoon

  “Galenorn’s kick-butt Fae ramp up the action in a wyrd world gone awry . . . I loved it!”

  —Patricia Rice, author of Mystic Rider

  “A fun read, filled with surprise and enchantment.”

  —Linda Winstead Jones, author of Bride by Command

  Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn

  The Otherworld Series

  WITCHLING

  CHANGELING

  DARKLING

  DRAGON WYTCH

  NIGHT HUNTRESS

  DEMON MISTRESS

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn

  GHOST OF A CHANCE

  LEGEND OF THE JADE DRAGON

  MURDER UNDER A MYSTIC MOON

  A HARVEST OF BONES

  ONE HEX OF A WEDDING

  SCENT TO HER GRAVE

  A BLUSH WITH DEATH

  GLOSSED AND FOUND

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  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.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,

  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  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 publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  DEMON MISTRESS

  A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley edition / June 2009

  Copyright © 2009 by Yasmine Galenorn.

  Excerpt from Bone Magic by Yasmine Galenorn copyright © 2010 by Yasmine Galenorn.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.


  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-05373-7

  BERKLEY®

  Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Dedicated to my husband, Samwise,

  my favorite geek and chiphead,

  who also happens to be

  one of the most gorgeous nerds in the world.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my agent, Meredith Bernstein, and to my editor, Kate Seaver—the best team I could have. To Tony, the most talented cover artist ever. To my Witchy Chicks—thanks, ladies, for being such a great support system. To my little “Galenorn Gurlz,” who offer me their unconditional love. Most reverent devotion to Ukko, Rauni, Mielikki, and Tapio, my spiritual guardians. A reverent nod to Pele, the embodiment of island passion and tropical fire.

  Thank you to my readers, both old and new. Your support helps keep us writers in ink and fuels our love of storytelling, and believe me, I appreciate each and every wonderful note you send, whether it be via MySpace, e-mail, or snail mail. You can find me on the net at Galenorn En/Visions (www.galenorn.com) and at MySpace (www.myspace.com/yasminegalenorn). If you write to me via snail mail (see website for address or write via publisher), please enclose a stamped, self-addressed envelope with your letter if you would like a reply. Promo goodies are available; see my site for info.

  Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.

  —CHARLES J. SYKES

  Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.

  —ALBERT EINSTEIN

  CHAPTER 1

  “Could you at least wait until I open the window to shake that thing?” Iris shot me a nasty look as I yanked the braided rug off the floor and started beating it against the wall. “I can barely breathe, there’s so much dust.”

  Chagrined, I dropped the rug to the floor and gave her a sheepish look. Dust didn’t bother me, and sometimes I forgot other people had to breathe. “Sorry,” I said. “Open the window, and I’ll shake it outside.”

  Rolling her eyes, she lifted the sash and pushed it up as far as she could. I took over, finishing the job. A wash of warm summer air filtered through the open window along with the sounds of horns honking, blaring music, and laughter from a gang of street kids who were smoking weed in the back alley behind the Wayfarer. The air had a happy-go-lucky feel to it, a stir of excitement, like a street party about to spontaneously erupt.

  I leaned over the sill, waving to one of the boys who was staring up at me. His name was Chester, but he went by Chit, and he and his buddies had become a fixture around the bar over the past few months. Too young to come in, they hung around out back, and every now and then I’d make sure they got a good meal from the grill. They were good kids—a little at loose ends, but they never caused much trouble, and they weren’t gangbangers or druggies. In fact, they kept some of the less desirable elements from hanging out in the alleys.

  Chit waved back. “Yo, Menolly! What’s shakin’, babe?”

  I grinned. I was far, far older than he, although I didn’t look it. But like a number of the younger FBH men I’d met, he flirted with every woman who looked under forty, especially if they were Fae. And though I was only half-Fae, and a vampire to boot, he treated me like I was just another one of the locals.

  “Just getting around to some long-overdue cleaning,” I called down to him, waving again before I turned back to Iris, who was poking around an old-world trunk that had been hiding in a corner of the room.

  Since I now owned the entire building the Wayfarer Bar & Grill resided in, I decided it was time to clear out some of the rooms over the bar and turn them into a paying resource. My sisters and I could furnish them, rent them out to Otherworld visitors, and make a nice chunk of change.

  Even though we were back on the Court and Crown’s payroll, money was still going out faster than it was coming in. Especially since we were paying Tim Winthrop for the computer work he was doing for the Supe Community.

  The Wayfarer’s second story held ten rooms, two of them bathrooms. And it looked like all of them had remained untouched for years. Piles of junk and thick layers of dust permeated the entire story. Iris and I’d finished one room, but it had taken us two nights to sort through the boxes filled with newspaper and old clothes.

  I stretched, arching my back, and shook my head. “What a mess.”

  The room had obviously been turned into a storage room, probably by Jocko, who wasn’t the cleanest bartender the Wayfarer had ever seen. Unfortunately, the diminutive giant had met an untimely end at the hand of Bad Ass Luke, a demon from the Subterranean Realms.

  Jocko had lived in one of the Otherworld Intelligence Agency’s designated apartments in the city, and I was pretty sure he’d never slept at the bar. We hadn’t found any giant-sized clothes hanging around. At least not yet. But it was obvious that someone from Otherworld had stayed here at one time, because she’d left a bunch of her things here. I recognized the weave on a couple of tunics. They certainly hadn’t been made over here Earthside.

  Iris snorted. “Mess is certainly the word, isn’t it? Now, if you’ll get your albino butt over here, I could use some help moving this trunk.” Hands on her hips, she nodded to the wooden chest she’d uncovered from beneath a pile of newspapers.

  Shaken out of my reverie, I lifted the trunk with one hand and effortlessly carried it to the center of the room. Being a vampire had its perks, and extraordinary strength was one of them. I wasn’t all that much taller than Iris—skimming five one, I towered over her by a mere thirteen inches—but I could have easily lifted a creature five times her weight.

  “Where on Earth are your sisters? I thought they were going to help.”

  The Talon-haltija—Finnish house sprite—brushed a stray cobweb off her forehead, leaving a smudge from the grime that had embedded itself in her hands. Her ankle-length golden hair had been pulled into a long ponytail, and she’d carefully woven it into a thick chignon to get it out of the way. Iris was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a red and white gingham sleeveless blouse, with the ends tied together under her breasts. A pair of blue Keds completed her country-maid ensemble.

  I grinned. “They are helping, in their own special ways. Camille’s at the store buying more cleaning supplies and dinner. Delilah’s out scrounging up a pickup so we can haul away some of this junk.” I’d left running the bar to Chrysandra for the evening. She knew where I was, and she was my best waitress. Luke was bartending, and he’d take care of any jerks that stumbled in. Tavah, as usual, was guarding the portal in the basement.

  “Special my foot,” Iris mumbled, but she flashed me a brilliantly white smile. She had good teeth, that was for sure. “Let’s see what this old chest holds. Probably dead mice, with our luck.”

  “If it does, don’t tell Delilah. She’d want to play with them.” I knelt beside her, examining the lock. “Looks like we need a skeleton key if you don’t want me to bust it open.”

  “Forget about keys,” Iris said. She leaned over and deftly inserted a bobby pin into the oversized hole, then whispered a soft chant. Within seconds, the latch clicked. I gave her a long look, and she shrugged.

  “What? Simple locks I can pop. Dead bolts, not so much. Life is easier when you don’t have to worry about locks and bars.”

  “I would have to agree,” I said, opening the lid. As it softly creaked, the faint odor of cedar rose to fill the air. Even though I didn’t need to breathe, that didn’t mean I couldn’t smell—at least when I chose to—and I allowed the aroma to filter through
my senses. Mingled with the fragrance of tobacco and frankincense, the scent was dusty, like an old library thick with leather and heavy oak furniture. It reminded me of our parlor, back home in Otherworld.

  Iris peeked over the edge. “Pay dirt!”

  I glanced into the trunk’s belly. No dead mice. No gems or jewels, either, but there were clothes and several books and what looked like a music box. I slowly lifted the box out of the soft cushion of dresses in which it had been nestled. The wood was definitely harvested from Otherworld.

  “Arnikcah,” I said, peering closely at it. “This comes from OW.”

  “I figured as much,” Iris said, leaning over to examine the box.

  Wood from an arnikcah tree was hard, dark, and rich, with a natural luster that shimmered when polished. Easy to spot by its rich burgundy tones, the color rested somewhere between mahogany and cherry.

  The box was fastened by a silver hinge, and I flipped it open, gently raising the lid. A small peridot cabochon, inset on the underside of the lid, flashed as the sound of tinkling notes fluttered out. Not panpipes, but a silver flute, sounding the song of woodland birds at the close of sunset.

  Iris closed her eyes, listening to the melody. After a moment, it stopped, and she bit her lip. “That’s beautiful.”