Breaking Out (34 page)

“Thanks. For everything.” Fin nodded and
disappeared and I allowed myself the first deep cleansing breath
I’d taken in over a month.

“Feel like walking me home, boy?” Samson
barked in agreement and we set off, Samson chasing seagulls while I
puzzled out how to keep from taking on any more dangerous cases. A
purse snatching would be right up our alley, or maybe a stolen
bicycle.

I stopped outside the house-slash-office that
was now my home. Soft music was coming from the kitchen and Ivy was
shouting at Jay about something having to do with where she’d left
her keys. The light had been left on outside. It was nice to think
they hadn’t given up on me coming back. I rang the doorbell. Ivy
answered. I think it was one of the only times she’d been shocked
into silence. Too bad it didn’t last.

“Where the hell have you been?” She screamed
for Jay and threw herself into my arms. Soon I was in the middle of
a group hug. It was great to be back.

Acknowledgements:

I could not have written this book without
the support of my writing partners, particularly Kristina Wright
and Sue Sbardellati, who listened to me vent every week and still
showed an amazing amount of patience and a huge dose of friendship.
You two rock.

Thanks also go out to the
Writing at the
Boule Crew
—you know who you are—and to the other members of
SVRWA who are always there with a supportive hug.

As usual, a very special thank you to my
sister/editor/best friend, Emily Schiller, who stepped up to help
me out during Thanksgiving week. And thank you, thank you, thank
you to my incredible beta readers, Chelly Fowler and Regina Roy.
Their input was priceless and I look forward to working with them
on future projects.

All my wonderful book cover designs are by
Tatiana Villa
http://www.viladesign.net/

I'm fortunate to currently be a resident of a lovely town in
Northern California, a magical place within the context of the
mortal plain, where flowers bloom all winter long and people
actually smile and say hello when they pass you on the
sidewalk.

I've spent most of my professional life
working with community theatre groups in NYC as a costume designer,
production manager, stage manager, etc... Over time I've adopted
the philosophy that life is one enormous theatrical extravaganza
and I'm merely doing my best to keep it interesting for myself, my
family, my friends and hopefully my readers.

I've read fantasy my entire life and still
read into the wee hours. Steven King said something about not
having the tools to write if you don't spend a good amount of time
reading. Well, I'm doing my best on that front.

And to my readers, thank you. You are all
important to me, not just because it's cool to sell books, but
mostly because it's cool to share a story with others. You can
leave comments on my website or on my Facebook author page. Or
follow me on Twitter. I love to hear from you.

Connect to Gayle Parness

On the web:
http://www.gayleparness.com/

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/GayleParnessAuthor

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/gayleparness

Rebirth
: Book 1 –
Free at all vendors!
Sixteen-year-old Jackie discovers she's
not human, but instead part of a large supernatural community. She
trains with a group of young shapeshifters who become her close
friends, and also meets Garrett, the magically powerful vampire who
teaches her to use her unique energy and then manages to steal her
heart. Together they face off against his destructive maker, the
500-year-old vampire, Eleanor Howard.

Stalked
: Book 2

Twisted
: Book 3

Blown Away
: Book
4

Caught Between
:
Book 5

Torn Apart
: Book
6

Cut Off:
Book 7

The Triad Series
Continues
:

Falling Out
: Book 2 – Available for
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Spinning Out
: Book 3 – Available Fall,
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The Theta Series:
A paranormal romance set in a futuristic world
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Playing with
Passion:
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Free until 12/31/15

Yielding to
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Book 3 will be available in
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COPYRIGHT 2015, GAYLE PARNESS

CHARLIE

Chapter One (partial)

“Jay, catch!” The rottweiler flew over the
fence with a horrified expression, or at least my estimation of a
dog’s horrified expression. I vaulted over immediately after the
toss, just in case Jay had a problem with the catch. Not likely.
Jay was a grizzly shapeshifter, and bears in human form tended to
be large and as strong as, well, bears.

“Really?” Jay grabbed at the dog, losing his
balance and landing hard on his butt, continuing the downward
motion until his head splashed into a not-so-conveniently-located
muddy puddle. Samson came to a halt spread-eagled on Jay’s stomach
and chest, panting into Jay’s face. A drop of drool dripped onto my
friend’s cheek. Drip. Another one.

Dog and shapeshifter stared at each other for
a few seconds, Jay doing his best to catch his breath while Samson
wagged his stump of a tail, excited by his aerial adventure.
Neither of them looked interested in moving anytime soon, but we
had work to do.

“Stop lazin’ around. We gotta catch this
guy.” I said.

Jay stared Samson down, his eyes morphing
from hazel to grizzly bear copper. “Up. Now.” But Samson wasn’t
impressed. He grunted, rested his enormous head on Jay’s chest, and
licked his chin.

An intervention was definitely called for. I
shooed Samson off and extended my hand. “Hey. Sorry.”

Jay was sitting up now, ignoring my apology
and my offer of assistance. “What were you thinking?” He jumped to
his feet with the strength and grace of a martial artist, scowling
as he wiped the drool off his face with his sleeve. “Yuck. Your dog
needs mouthwash, man.”

“He’s going for a teeth cleaning next week.”
Samson whimpered behind me. “I swear, he’s getting better at
understanding me all the time. It’s spooky.”

“I hate to tell ya this Char, but there’s
nothin’ about your family that isn’t spooky.”

Unable to argue the fact, I ignored him and
took off running again, hoping my shortcut would put us in front of
the thief before he disappeared. This time it was a convenience
store robbery. According to the owner, the kid had waved a gun
around, demanding cash. The owner had handed it over immediately,
not wanting to endanger himself or his other employees. The
detectives had called us because after viewing the security tape,
it was obvious there’d been no gun. The owner had been spelled into
believing the teenaged sorcerer had a gun and so had handed over
the night’s receipts without hesitation.

The young thief was experimenting with his
powers. Never a good thing. Sorcerers, like witches, usually
studied under someone more experienced for at least five years
before going out on their own. Serious training usually began
around the age of sixteen. This kid looked two years younger than
that.

Every supernatural group had it’s own laws
and moral code, and humans were off the menu for every one of the
good guys, except for vampires, but even then a human had to
volunteer to be a donor. This kid’s path was already swinging in
the dark sorcerer direction and someone had to stop him before he
killed an innocent. There was no coming back from murder.

Jay caught up with me. “What if I’d dropped
your dog on his head?” Jay would gnaw a thing to death, like an old
bone.

“You’re the one who decided to climb the
freakin’ fence. How did you think Samson was gonna get over
it?”

“He could’ve run around the fence.” Jay made
a circular motion in the air.

“I’m not letting him out of my sight. You
remember what happened on the last job.”

A week ago Jay and I’d chased down some wolf
who’d been beating on his girlfriend outside a club. We’d almost
caught up with the dude when Samson took off after an enormous
stray cat. I decided to continue to follow the creep, knowing
Samson was smart enough and strong enough to take care of himself.
We’d caught the asshole, bringing him back to the club where the
cops were waiting. But later we’d found Samson sitting on the path
in front of our small house bleeding from scratches on his face. It
was a definite learning experience for the big doofus. Stray
tomcats were bad news.

The Shifter Council in Crescent City and The
Western Pack Council where my uncle Aaron was a board member had
sent out the word we were the go-to team if a supernatural was
causing problems in the LA area. Lately, the LAPD Supe Squad used
us on a regular basis.

We were running faster now, ducking under
tree branches and jumping over benches, sticking to the narrow park
trails and avoiding the more crowed sidewalks. The kid’s aura left
an easy trail for a high-end magic user to follow. “You think he’s
working for someone else?” Jay shouted out as I vaulted over a
trash bin.

“Nah. Not for $123.00 bucks.” I moved off the
path, circling an enormous oak and cutting across a grassy section
of the park. Jay and Samson followed behind me, one on either side.
They were usually positioned that way when we chased anyone,
falling into the habit because I was the only one who might use
magic to take someone down. They didn’t want to be in the line of
fire.

I heard a lot of panting behind me. We’d been
running at a very fast pace for Jay and Samson and only a moderate
pace for me, since my shifter DNA was all about running and
tracking. I gave Jay the signal to slow down and continue north
while I shot ahead. I’d contact him when I found the guy.

The idiot was still wearing his bright orange
jacket. Yeah, I knew it was a top brand and must have cost a
fortune, but it was visible even without the aid of streetlights.
Great for us—bad for him.