Chapter One

Kate

Sometimes I hate Jax. 

I hate being her errand girl. Her bodyguard. Her personal shopper. I hate how she can’t keep her shit together for more than a day, and I have to clean it up. 

Like right now. 

“Did it have to be this guy?” I ask, heaving on the pavement, clutching where Jax’s latest benefactor has punched me in the stomach. The man is, for sure, a descendant of mammoths. 

“I’m sorry,” Jax says for the hundredth time, crouching next to me, dabbing blood off my fist. “He seemed dumb enough at first. Free drinks, you know?” 

“Who can resist a free daiquiri?” I wince. 

Mammoth wipes sweat from his forehead. At least I got him sweating, though that might just be this god-awful summer night. 

Jax tugs at my T-shirt. She’s squatting next to the dumpster I’ve decided to make my new home. It’s a comfortable dumpster—I could rest here forever. 

“I’ve seen you take out bigger guys than this,” she says. “Just do one of your spin moves.”

“Spin moves?” I try to rise, but my side is throbbing. And my hand is so swollen, it can’t make a fist. “I would love to do that, please tell me how.”

“I’d love that too,” Mammoth says, no longer breathing heavily. He’s ready to go again. “Show me a spin.”

I groan. We could call the cops, but that’s a joke with our records. We could run, but this is our bar. Our alleyway. Our dumpster. 

“What about a deal?” I ask, blowing pinkish bangs out of my eyes. “You leave Jax alone, and I won’t show you one of my deadly spin moves.”

“We’re a little past that,” Mammoth says, raising his fists. 

“How about never fight a woman?” I try. Sometimes it works. 

“Oh, is that what you are?” 

I sigh and rub my swollen fist—swollen from several jabs to Mammoth’s jaw. I don’t technically know how to fight. I was never trained. Just lots of experience being a reactive teenager who got into fights because it felt better than dealing with the abandonment issues. At least, that’s what my court-ordered therapist said. Now, I fight in dubious boxing matches to pay the bills and take any free class I can find. Mostly online videos. 

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal,” Mammoth concedes. “You beat it. Go home. Watch The Bachelor. And your little friend and I can get back to what we were doing—finding out what’s under that dress.”

My swollen hand manages to make a fist. 

“How about I just rip out your hair plugs instead,” I say, climbing to my feet. 

Betrayal 

It’s impossible to know what awaits when walking through a Door. So far, in my excursions to the human world, I have found nothing but polluted streets, unbearable noise, and drunk, sweaty mortals. I am beginning to dread the nights spent combing through the vast array of humans who have nothing to offer. No fire, no conquering spirit. 

I have to choose one. Just one human. And the bigger, the better. 

Tonight, the Door opens into a muggy alleyway where a golden-haired man stands over a broad-shouldered woman. They have been fighting, the woman sporting a bleeding fist and the man a split lip. 

I stick to the shadows. This man is clearly a brute, and brutes tend to thrive in my land. I wonder if he has the mettle I need. 

A smaller woman crouches behind her broad-shouldered companion. She is pretty, unlike her companion, who doesn’t seem to have the patience for pretty. The broad-shouldered woman is reaching for something in the shadows. 

I watch, curious. 

My money is on the giant. 

Kate 

I walk behind the dumpster. Both Jax and Mammoth watch as I grab a steel pipe I noticed earlier. Using a pipe is definitely fighting dirty since Mammoth doesn’t have a weapon. But screw it, he threatened Jax. 

“Hey now,” Mammoth says as I approach, and his hand goes to his pocket. Is he reaching for a knife? A gun? I don’t wait to find out. 

I slam the pipe into his kneecap. 

Mammoth howls, and as he goes down, I drive the pipe straight into his balls. I step back as he falls, staying out of reach, twirling the pipe in my hand. 

“Wanna hear a joke?” I ask as Mammoth hunches over. 

Mammoth is holding his balls tenderly. He doesn’t seem to care about fighting anymore. 

I crouch down. “Why did trashy bar man have to move in with his mom?” 

Mammoth shakes his head. 

I pat his shoulder with the pipe. “Because he threatened my girlfriend.”

Mammoth snort-sobs. “That’s not a joke.”

“Sure it is,” I say, offended. “That’ll blow your balls off. Oops, sorry, guess that already happened.”

Mammoth pushes my pipe off his shoulder. 

“Well, time to crawl back to the Sanitation Department,” I say, standing. 

“Give me a second,” he says, gesturing to his knee. “I can’t walk.”

“Or take a joke,” I say, pulling him to his feet. “Hospital is to the left.” I gesture with the pipe. “See ya.”

Mammoth limps away, muttering about bitches ripping him off. When he’s gone, I slump to the ground, back against the dumpster, and drop the pipe. I’ve never used a pipe, but it did a phenomenal job. 

Jax sits beside me, unfazed by my extreme methods. She’s seen me do worse.

“Look, I know you’re going to lecture me,” she says, “But he seemed decent at first. He remembered my name.”

“That’s the barest possible minimum.” I sigh, wishing as always I wasn’t such a failure. That I made enough to pay for whatever drink Jax wanted so she wouldn’t have to fake flirt with sloppy guys. Move her into a safer neighborhood. Give her the housewife life. Rescue some dogs. 

“Maybe I should give community college another try,” I say.

Jax snorts. “Forget that.”

“Because I’m too dumb?” I tease. Ms. Peters, the foster mom we shared for a year, always told me I was too dumb for college. I vowed to show her, but she was right—I’m an idiot. All I can do is fight and keep Jax out of trouble. 

“You’re not dumb,” Jax says. “You’re just not built for sitting in a classroom.” 

We fall silent, listening to car horns and someone laughing drunkenly. It’s midnight, but we don’t move. My ribs need a rest. 

Someone approaches. Mammoth has come back. Good grief, I can’t fight him again. 

But it isn’t Mammoth. It’s a woman, way too nicely dressed for out here. She’s got epic black hair, super long, framing a face made of angles. Despite it being night and the streetlights dim, her eyes seem to glow. 

She stops in front of us, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I typically listen to my body before my brain. It’s generally smarter. 

This woman is bad news. 

“I enjoyed your fight,” the woman says. She has an accent I don’t recognize. Definitely not from this Southern suburbia shithole. And she has black eyeshadow that forms three points on her lower eyelids. It makes her look like an emotionally unavailable CEO—gorgeous and ready to fire your ass. 

“If you liked it so much, I’m taking donations,” I say, scratching a mosquito bite on my ankle. “Cash only.” 

This woman is probably a good several inches taller than me. She’s wearing a tailored black suit with a sheer corset shirt and pants that end above her ankles, showing off a lethal pair of heels. 

She reaches out a hand to help me up. Her nails look like they are made of metal. She’s missing a pinky.  

I take her hand, letting her pull me to my feet, and her fingernail stabs my palm. 

“Ouch,” I gasp, pulling free. She actually stabbed me. I’m bleeding. Again. 

“I apologize,” the woman says, but she doesn’t look apologetic. Her hand balls into a fist. 

I suck the blood off my palm. “Come on, Jax,” I say, helping Jax up with my blood-free hand. 

The woman is looking me over with poison-green eyes. “I can give you a different life.”

“No, thanks,” I say. I thought maybe this woman was rich because her clothes are so sleek, but she’s probably just some MLM lady who will suck Jax into another pyramid scheme. “We can already get into R-rated movies. Don’t need much better than that.”

“I said different, not better. You will see.”

“Get out of my way.” I’m done being polite. 

The woman slides to the side, letting us pass. We leave, Jax looking back, but not me. If the woman follows, I’ll knock her teeth out. 

We turn a corner, and both breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Weirdo,” I say.

“It’s been one of those nights,” Jax agrees. “Let’s get some watermelon gummies.”

Betrayal

Looks like the fourth time's the charm. 

I examine my hand. On my palm is one drop of the human’s blood. Perfect. 

She was perfect. The way she went for the man’s knee, protecting her friend despite being so outmatched. 

I shiver in the sweltering heat. She is what I have been searching for. 

Luckily, neither of the women noticed the charm I slipped into my chosen one’s pocket. 

I place the precious drop of blood into a vial. It’s barely anything. Hopefully, it’s enough, and my search is over and I never have to wear these ridiculous shoes again.

Time to go home and begin the hunt in earnest. 

Because who knows where my human will end up?

Kate

Jax doesn’t let go of my arm as we walk. 

I know we’re codependency at its finest, but in moments like these, where we both survived another night of mayhem, I’m reminded of the only constant I have in this world: 

Jax.  

Jax has always been there. Always. In the group homes. Or when we were split up with different families, but still called every night. At seventeen, we both declared emancipation and moved in together. She’s the only stable thing I’ve known. 

Jax says we’re in love. On my darkest nights, when she’s asleep and I’m holding her in my arms, I beg her silently to actually love me. Because if she really loved me, she would notice how scared I am for her. How she can sleep like a log, while I stay up, barely keeping it together, worrying about the next scrape she’ll get herself into. 

It would be nice if Jax went to community college so I could take a night off. She could do it. She’s the smart one. If she went to college, maybe I could relax enough to figure out what I actually want. 

“Is your hand ok?” Jax asks. 

“Yeah,” I say, looking at the puncture wound from that lady’s nail. “I’ll wrap it up at home.” 

Jax nudges me toward the QuikTrip. “Gummies.”

I pull open the glass door. 

“After you,” I say, and Jax saunters inside the iridescently lit building.  

I step in after her. 

But it isn’t a gas station I walk into. It’s a forest.