Witchling: An Otherworld Novel (Otherworld Series Book 1)

Editorial Reviews. From Publishers Weekly. The first in an engrossing new series about conflict Book 1 of 18 in Otherworld Series (18 Book Series).
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Menolly's a vampire who's still trying to get the hang of being undead.

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I'm Camille—a wicked-good witch. Except my magic's as unpredictable as the weather, as my enemies are about to find out the hard way. At the Wayfarer Inn, a portal to Otherworld and the local hangout for humans and beasties alike, a fellow operative, Jocko, has been murdered. Every clue points to Shadow Wing, the soul-munching, badass leader of the Subterranean Realms. He's made it clear that he aims to raze humankind to the ground, turning both Earth and Otherworld into his private playground. Keep Shadow Wing and his minions from creeping into Earth via the Wayfarer. The demons figure they're in like Flynn.

After all, with only my bumbling sisters and me standing in the way, how can they miss? But we've got a secret for them: Faulty wiring or not, nobody kicks ass like the D'Artigo girls. I couldn't put it down. I jerked away, dropping the rope back on the table as I drew a sharp breath. I swallowed a lump that had suddenly risen in my throat.

That rope has demonic energy infused into the fiber of every strand. I folded my arms and leaned back. There's no feeling in the world that even comes close to demon energy. And this rope reeks of it. We weren't facing some disgruntled Faerie or dwarf, or any of the other numerous inhabitants of Otherworld who could easily be captured and deported. Oh, we have some gremlins, imps, a bunch of lesser vampires and the like, but nothing on the order of what it would take to produce this strong of an aura.

All the reports said that throughout the hundreds of years they'd been watching the portals, not a single demon or ghoul from down-under had made it topside. But then again, the OIA promises a lot of things they never follow through on. Humans have nothing on the Sidhe when it comes to bureaucracy. He tried again, skirting to find another angle.

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Oh please, you can do better than that. Chase, you asked me and I told you. This rope belongs to one of the Demonkin. You can believe me or not as you choose. What should I do about the OIA? Tell them about the rope and what you sense off of it? I advise contacting them again as soon as possible. Trouble was, when headquarters didn't want to take a call, they just ignored the message.

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Of course, when they needed to contact us, we'd be in deep shit if we didn't answer. I can just imagine what would happen if the papers got hold of the news that a demon's running around. It's dicey enough with you Faerie folk and the like. I didn't bother to remind him that I was half-human and had as much right to be on Earth as I did in Otherworld. I just warded the store against snooping yesterday. We should be safe enough. You positive you didn't turn the place into a bullhorn by mistake? I don't think so!

Witchling: An Otherworld Novel Book 1

I happen to be magically challenged. You have a problem with that? Hey, far be it for me to give you grief, but I'm not the one who ended up nekkid for the whole world to see," he said, grinning as his gaze ran up and down my body. While you're at it, let's see you try your hand at a little magic," I said curtly. That shut him up. One thing I'd discovered since we arrived in Belles-Faire, a seedy suburb city of Seattle, was that Chase craved power. He couldn't wield magic himself, so he did the next best thing when he found out about the OIA.

He went to work for them. Sometimes, I thought he actually enjoyed it when my spells backfired.


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I let out a long sigh. Tactless or not, he had a point. And with the pall on that rope, we had bigger fish to worry about than my ego. As to my warding, don't have a hissy fit. To back up my magic, Delilah installed an electronic surveillance system. She has a knack for your technology, and she rewired it to pick up on any bugs or other listening devices that may have been planted around here.

I didn't tell him that she'd also blown a fuse and sparked herself a good one. The resulting flash of electricity threw her across the room.


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    5. But Delilah was no quitter. Eventually she'd figured it out and got it working. I was damned proud of my looks and took pains to accentuate the positive. One perk about living Earthside: For one thing, it didn't stain like cosmetics made from herbs and berries.

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    Back in Otherworld, I'd spent longer than I'd ever planned to looking like a Pict when I tried out some face paint made out of woad. When I returned home, I'd be carting a butt-load of M. I nurtured my little vanities. Chase coughed and I saw the glimmer of a smile behind his eyes. This morning I took a call from one of the homeless guys who live in the alley around back of the Wayfarer.

    He found Jocko's body. The dude's been one of my informants in the past and was scrounging for a few bucks. So I got there first, which was a good thing, considering Jocko wasn't looking all too pretty. I stifled a smile. The Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations team was Chase's brainchild and was a mix of human and Otherworld agents, specially trained to deal with the problem of crimes against OW citizens.

    Chase had initiative and foresight, I had to give him that. It was unfortunate that he had to answer to Devins, a real prick who was a few offices higher up then Chase, but usually he was able to keep his boss out of the loop. Suddenly it all seemed too real.

    The thought of Jocko meeting his end in a back alley made me cringe. He may not have been the brightest bulb in the socket, but he made up for it in congeniality and I'd genuinely liked the gentle giant. That's why he got the job, you know. He could interact with others without pounding them into the ground when he got irritable.

    He was a good hearted man who did his best. And he was crude, loutish, and made fun of my suits. Giants are like that, only most are much worse. What do you expect?


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      4. Chase gave me an exasperated look. I never met a vampire or a lycanthrope either, until I met your sisters, so give me a break if I don't react with much enthusiasm. Giants and bloodsuckers and werewolves-". It's not synonymous with Were. Delilah would scratch your eyes out if she heard you lumping her with the Canids. What was I thinking? Sorry," he said, his voice anything but. Not all Weres are the same. Some of them would slit your throat for even suggesting it. The point of a sword or fang was a whole lot sharper than my tongue.

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      What I'm trying to say is that all of you were simply tales of myth and legend until a few years ago, when you crawled out of the woodwork. Even you-you're a witch. And half-Faerie at that. I'm still wrapping my mind around all this. Okay, back to business. Tell me more about Jocko's death. Nothing in the bar to give us any idea what happened. Nothing in the portal log to indicate that somebody new came through last night. Basically, it boils down to the fact that the Wayfarer is out one bartender and HQ wants you to take care of it. The bar was also a hub for FBHs who wanted to meet the Fae.

      And there were plenty of admirers who lined up for a chance to see-or talk to-or screw us. The crowds were thick and the partying hard. My sister Menolly worked nightshift at the bar. She listened for gossip and rumors that might be important among the travelers who came through from Otherworld. Having her there was a good way to spot potential trouble since the grapevine always ran faster than official channels.

      It was also one of the few night jobs she could find and she was strong enough to stand in for the bouncer if need be. Chase pulled out a pack of cigarettes but stuffed them back in his pocket when I shook my head. Cigarette smoke raised havoc with my lungs and was even worse for Delilah. Menolly didn't care anymore.

      The only things she could smell were blood, fear, and pheromones. I glanced at the clock. Delilah's out on a case and won't be back for until late afternoon. Why don't you meet me here at six and we'll go back to the house? That way you'll have had a chance to contact HQ again. And by then the sun will be set. Vampires and daylight just do not mix. Besides, it's rough on her to be locked in the house all day. Better for her to sleep as much as she can; it keeps her from getting claustrophobia. Menolly hasn't been a vampire very long, not by our standards. She's still learning to adjust and we're making it as easy as we can on her.

      I'm doing my best to help her but it's rough going at times. In fact, I'm working on a surprise that she'll probably hate me for, but it will be good for her. I see your point," Chase said, musing. But if I were Menolly, I'd call in sick tonight. If there is a demon behind this, he might be after OIA agents.

      And if he had inside help, then he might know that Menolly is an operative. That thought hadn't crossed my mind. Chase headed for the door. As I watched him leave, a shadow seemed to pass through the shop and I reached out to touch it, but it shuddered and dissipated into the gloomy day. Jocko's murder had set in motion dangerous events to come. I could feel it on the wind, though any clear picture eluded my sight. I went back to my work, trying to muster up a smile for the Faerie Watchers who would be here in full force in less than an hour.

      Black Sun Yulunga Ubiquitous Mr. Falling to Pieces Fleetwood Mac: Gold Dust Woman Foo Fighters: Sad Sweetheart of the Rodeo Heart: White Lightning and Wine Jane's Addiction: Yasmine Galenorn operates the http: By checking 'I Agree' I verify that I have read this website's privacy policy and I agree to its terms. Part of the Otherworld series: C1 Men of Otherworld: Chapter 1 Seattle is gloomy most any day of the year, but October can be especially rough in the bad weather department.

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      We had leeway to talk in private. Smell something you like? He rolled his eyes. And he was garroted. My feet hit the floor as I straightened my shoulders. That didn't track right. And they blew you off? Chase stumbled over the same thought. He held up his hands to ward me off. I didn't mean to strike a sore spot. I knew you wouldn't let us down. You don't look it.