New Thea and Max novella!

Shock of shocks, I'm actually writing a new Thea and Max novella! The working title is "Love and Other Suitably Villainous Schemes," and here's a sneak peek at the first chapter!

(Thea and Max book one) (Thea and Max book two)

000

Chapter 1: Not Exactly an Invitation

Having a super-spy boyfriend was not at all like the movies made it seem.

For the most part, Thea loved it that way. She vastly preferred their monster-movie nights to dinner in uncomfortably expensive restaurants, and she'd almost entirely broken him of trying to be suave around her. He did tend toward ridiculously dramatic gifts, but he preferred tiger lilies and stuffed video game characters over expensive jewelry and sexy dresses she would never wear.

She wasn't thrilled about the fact that she hardly ever saw him, but she could hardly argue against someone being dedicated to their job. His assignments being far away from her did mean she was in far less physical danger than the usual spy girlfriend. (When she was being sensible, which was less often than she should be these days, she could admit it was a good thing.)

Of course, dating a super-spy did mean dealing with a certain bouts of movie-like absurdity. Say, like when they're trying to surprise you with a long-planned vacation.

Thea blinked at her boss. "An absurdly wealthy, conveniently secretive Italian philanthropist called you." She recapped his explanation in her flattest tone, hoping the sheer impossibility would somehow penetrate the man's brain. She may have been short, with dark skin and curls pulled back into a sensible ponytail, but she'd had a lot of sarcasm practice. "In person, instead of having one of their 10,000 assistants do it. Asking for some random Chicago computer security specialist to fly to Rome to work on some unspecified, open-ended project. He will not only pay for all this, including a per-diem fee that will turn next year's taxes into a nightmare, but he's also planning on spiriting this random specialist around in his private jet."

Charles Porter, whose face could be used as a stock photo for middle managers, frowned at her. "He didn't ask for some random specialist. He asked for you."

Thea didn't bother biting back her exasperated noise. She was absolutely going to say yes to this, because she had no doubt Max was behind this. But the idea that the man didn't see anything even slightly suspicious about this was concerning on several levels. "You do remember we've had armed gunmen in the building before, right? One of our apps was used to fund terrorism?"

Porter shook his head before she'd even finished speaking, making a dismissive gesture. "That's a non-issue. We have had several staff training sessions to deal with those incidents, and if Signor Donato wanted access to our tech he could buy it for far less money than he's buying your services. He's also already paid us a very generous consultation fee, and our financial department has already looked it over. It's 100 percent legitimate."

Thea frowned. Dangling money in front of Porter was an excellent way to get him to overlook any potential weirdness about the setup, but it was also excessive. When he'd gotten her out to Ohio for their last sort-of mission, he'd arranged it through a far subtler application of paperwork and backdated emails. This was just so much less... clever. "I didn't know the company received a consultation fee when it lent out my services."

His gaze slid away from hers as he pretended to mess with something on his computer. "Technically, we don't. Before you, no one had ever requested the services of anyone on our staff." His expression firmed as a thought hit him, and he turned back to give her a pointed look. "Though if this continues, rest assured we will work this into official company policy. It seems Mr. Bascom is friends with several other philanthropists, and was satisfied enough with your work earlier this year that he passed your name around."

It took a second to remember that Mr. Bascom was the name Max had given their fictional Ohio philanthropist. She had no doubt that Max's spy agency (which he also referred to as The Company) had given the man a full online profile, and he'd probably arranged for them to do the same thing with Alessandro Donato. The Italian version of the story was considerably more ridiculous than the Ohio version of the story, but there was precedent. She supposed it made sense that no one but her would get suspicious.

Though she should really talk to Max about setting up some kind of workshop for management: "The Benefits of Healthy Paranoia on the Corporate Bottom Line."

Porter glared, clearly having decided she'd been silent too long. "I don't know why you're arguing about this. Your team is wrapping up your most recent project, and while I am unfortunately aware that you like to be the last person to sign off on everything you can do that remotely. This will boost your reputation far more than it will ours, and the money alone would be stupid to turn down." He paused. "And if you don't, I will ban you from the office for two weeks."

Thea bit back several potential arguments to that last bit, knowing it wouldn't help anything. Besides, continuing this conversation would delay the far more important one she needed to have with Max. "I guess I'm saying yes, then." She gave him a dry look. "I had no chance against such a compelling argument."

Porter ignored the sarcasm, rapidly hitting a few keys on his computer. "There. All the information is in your inbox, including the address of his private airstrip and a number you can call if you want a limo to take you there. He'll pick you up personally tomorrow afternoon, because apparently he 'doesn't do mornings.'"

It took real effort for Thea not to roll her eyes, leaving the office with the minimum amount of required politeness. She checked her email on the way out, which also included check-in information for a penthouse suite in an expensive-looking hotel and, for some reason, photos of the private jet. Taken together, it felt more like a haphazard sales pitch than a well-built cover.

Frowning even harder now, she slipped into her office and shut the door. Putting her regular phone back into her pocket, she pulled out the one she used exclusively for talking to a certain jet-setting individual who could be anywhere in the world right now. Normally she waited for Max to reach out to her, since the last thing she wanted to do was interrupt him when it would be dangerous. But there was something about this...

Hopefully, the Company made sure he had voicemail.

Taking a deep breath, she hit the contact that would connect her directly to him. He picked up after only one ring, voice tired but warm as the best blanket. "Hey, beautiful. Calling to save me from my insomnia?"

Thea paused. This was the Max she'd come to know over the last several months. More theatrical than was at all sensible – she could not get him to stop calling her beautiful – but also wonderfully genuine. She'd asked him not to put on a persona when he was with her, and he'd done everything in his power to hold to that.

The thought that had nudged at her since Carter's office sharpened into a knife – the whole Italian philanthropist cover story wasn't his style at all.

Which meant it was someone else's cover story.

Once again, she'd been silent too long. "Thea?" Max sounded far more awake now, a grim edge to her voice. "Something's wrong. Tell me."

Great – now she was worrying him. "I don't suppose someone from your Company set me up to go to Rome?" She hated how uncertain she sounded. "Someone relatively inexperienced, maybe?"

Max went deathly silent for a moment. "They wouldn't do anything with you D or I didn't know about." A dangerous edge was slipping into his voice, but she knew it wasn't aimed at her. "And if D planned something without telling me, you wouldn't think it was an amateur."

Thea thought about the grandmotherly, leather-clad weapons expert who was Max's usual partner. "It's definitely not D," she murmured, as much to herself as at Max. She ran back through the information she'd been given, trying to look at it the way she would have if she hadn't thought Max had set it up. "Has a man named Alessandro Donato popped up in the Company files anywhere? Even just as a possible connection to something?"

For the first time – she was such an idiot – she went to her computer and looked up Donato. A quick search showed a reclusive multimillionaire just like Carter had described him, camera-shy but with his name attached to several charity projects and non-profits. The few shots of him that had been caught at events matched the professional shot Carter had shown her, a distinguished-looking man a few years older than her who wouldn't look out of place on the cover of a romance novel.

In short, not someone who would have anything to do with her.

"I can't find the name anywhere in our system," Max said finally, the frustration clear in his voice. "But that doesn't mean anything. We're a small agency, and no matter how well-connected we are there are things we miss."

"The big question, though, is what interest he would have with me." The question didn't frighten her nearly as much as it should have, even though the answer couldn't be good. She'd rather deal with some rich guy's nefarious plans any day than be in a world where she didn't know Max as well as she thought she did. "I can think of a handful of people already in Europe who are as good at security as I am, and possibly a few who are better. And even if he somehow knows about my hacking, I'm sure there are better people he can afford. There is no reason for him to fly all that way in his private jet to come get me."

"Private—" Max cut himself off with brutal efficiency, and the quiet that immediately followed was filled with the sound of movement. "I'm coming to you. I'll be there by tomorrow morning, your time, at the absolute latest."

It was completely unnecessary, and more than she would have ever dared ask of him. It was exactly what she'd wanted him to say. "There's no way the assignment you're on conveniently happens to be done right when I need you."

The sound of movement didn't slow down in the slightest. "I'll have M come in and wrap things up for me. She owes me a favor."

Her logic fiercely tried to argue with the increasing pounding of her heart. "You shouldn't come out here. If you're serious about helping me with this, you'd get here just to have to immediately turn around and fly out to Rome."

"Not if you let me get on the plane with you. Pass me off as your assistant."

She made an exasperated noise. "Actual tech people don't have assistants, and I don't want to risk Donato knowing that and leaving you out on the tarmac."

She could practically feel his tension through the phone. "You'll be alone—"

She'd never had anyone worry about her the way Max did. "He won't try anything on the plane," she said gently, cutting him off. "Whatever he needs me for, it'll involve letting me spend time with his servers."

He was silent for a long moment. "Tell them you want to hire your own security," he said finally, voice still tight. "Make up whatever reason you think he'll believe. I can't go with you on the plane because he'll see it as an insult, but I'll meet you the second you get to Rome."

Her chest tightened. "What if this just turns out to be some run-of-the-mill corporate crime? Won't you get—?"

"Thea." It was his turn to cut her off, soft but oh-so-serious. "There is no way I'm letting you do this alone."

Thea swallowed. "Thank you."

"Always." He let out a breath. "Stay safe. I will be there the second you land."

Even after they said their goodbyes, Thea held onto the phone a little more tightly than it would be at all safe to admit to. Making herself put it back in her pocket, she squared her shoulders and went to work.

She had some research to do.

#

"Come on, T." Max paced back and forth across his hotel room, feeling like a caged animal. He'd been packed and ready to go for an hour now, had all the necessary background for his security cover set up and ready to go, and had three different potential modes of transportation for whenever he could get out of here. Until R checked in and officially took over his current assignment, however, none of that was going to do him the slightest bit of good.

R was taking far too long to check in. "You have to have something on the guy! Rich people can't go 24 hours without committing some kind of crime!"

T sighed. "We can't exactly pick him up for tax fraud, Max." The Company's main tech expert was definitely trying to use the dad voice he'd perfected with his own brood of adopted rugrats. "And without a full deep dive into his system, which I'm sure Thea is going to want to do herself, I can't even confirm that much."

He couldn't punch anything. It would only slow him down more if he punched something. "Then why reach out to Thea? You saw that he's been handling his security in-house for the last several years, and she's right when she says there are more glamorous experts that would be further up his list! Finding her would take research!"

"And if he did that research, he'd know she’s one of the best."

"Yes, but once he talks to her for five minutes he'll realize she is incredibly suspicious and not about to fall for whatever scheme he's planning!" There were so many things you could do to someone on a plane midflight. Most of them ended by throwing the person out an open hatch. "Whatever he thinks she's going to do for him, she's actually going to make his life a living hell."

He'd run straight into Thea's refusal to go with the program back when they first met, and it turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. But he ran into plenty of people on this job who preferred to solve their complications by killing them, and the thought of Thea alone with one of those kind of people turned his chest into ice.

And the thought of her alone with another professional charmer, who might end up just as enchanted with her as Max was...

He was knocked out of his thoughts when he realized T had been quiet far too long. "You've thought of something, and you're pretty sure I'm not going to like it." Max took a deep breath. "Tell me."

T still took a few moments to respond. "Donato is a notoriously private man, but he wasn't quite as careful about it in his younger years." There was something careful in his voice, like he knew he was delivering bad news. "And one thing the gossip sites all picked up on is that he only dates women in tech."

Max pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to scowl at it properly. "And this helps me how?"

He hesitated again. "Maybe this guy really is just trying to ask her—"

Max cut him off, not wanting to hear it out loud. "I knew what you were trying to say, T! That's not what I'm worried about!"

But that... might be part of the reason he was so desperate to get out there. It felt like he and Thea had barely gotten started on a real relationship, mostly because he was always out on assignment. He knew Thea cared about him, but if this Donato guy had the good sense to start acting genuine he was a lot more attractive a package than Max was. He'd even managed to take Thea to Rome before Max had, damn it.

A part of him couldn't help but feel like it would be really convenient if Donato was guilty of something. Another part wanted Donato to be just the rich idiot he looked like, because otherwise Thea was flying straight into danger without him. If something happened to her, it would kill him.

"Listen, maybe this is something you should talk to Thea about." The cajoling edge to T's voice would have been deeply annoying if Max hadn't had so much else to worry about. "I'm not saying there's not something suspicious about this guy, but I think it'll be easier to focus if you're not worried about the... emotional aspects of all this."

Max actually considered it for a second, which was proof of just how much of an effect Thea had on him. No matter how he spun it, though, he couldn't see any way it wouldn't make things worse. "Best case scenario, she only gets exasperated about the fact that I'm a jealous idiot instead of full-on hitting me in the face. Worst case scenario, which is the far more likely one, she is incredibly hurt that I took her genuine worry and made it all about my own stupid insecurities."

T sighed again. "Okay, you have a point there. Maybe we could—" He cut off abruptly, and when he spoke again his voice had gone strange. "D's calling me."

Max winced. "I don't suppose there's any chance you could hold her off for, say, 24 hours?"

"Sorry." T sounded genuinely sympathetic, but that wasn't going to be a lot of help to him. "She's a lot scarier than you are."

There was a murmur on the other end of the phone, probably T telling D that he was transferring Max, then the slightest shift in background noise and the cultured British tones of his second favorite person in the world. "Max, really."

Max pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd absolutely planned on reaching out to D, but he'd wanted to wait until he had at least some idea of what was actually going on. "I was going to loop you in on this, I swear it."

"When, exactly?" He could hear her arched eyebrow. "After you'd upset one of the most delightful women I've ever met by turning this into a particularly absurd romantic comedy, or after you've gotten yourself shot by completely missing the fact that this might be about you?"

He had an argument ready well before she'd finished talking. "Don’t try to tell me that things like this actually happen outside of romance novels and spy gambits, which is why this is especially..." The words trailed off as his brain finished processing the rest of what he'd just said. "Wait. You think this is about me?"

D gave an exaggerated sigh. "Max, darling, I know you're smarter than this." Her voice turned chiding. "As delightful as our Thea is, I agree that this seems like something more from our world than a romance novelist's. And as such, you are a far more likely target than she is."

Max went cold. "Someone found out how attached I am," he breathed. "And is trying to use her to get to me." Horrifying possibilities spun through his thoughts. "I need to—"

"Max." The word was urgent enough to cut through the panic spiral. "That is not what I meant, and I will admit that my frustration meant I did not think through my approach nearly as well as I should have. Thea will be fine, and there is no reason for you to do any of the three or four shades of potentially stupid things we both know you're capable of."

Max made himself inhale. It was the only way to argue properly. "How exactly is she fine? If this is somehow a plan to target me, then I have screwed up enough that random bad guys know that I will do anything for—"

"Or maybe they know she's the head tech person at the app company that cracked open an enormous terrorist funding operation, and they assume she's the one who brought it to the Company's attention? They may not be trying to target you specifically, but that will not make you be any less dead if they succeed."

Max closed his eyes, making himself actually breathe this time. "That just makes it even more important that I'm there, because if that is what's going on then she's still in danger from something we did."

D made a frustrated noise. "Will you at least promise me you'll think about being careful? And for the love of good scotch, will you tell me where I need to be to help keep you both alive through this mess?"

The knot in his chest eased a little. "I'll be as close to Thea as humanely possible, which means I won't be in position to express my displeasure with any randomly placed snipers."

She let out a breath. "I would be thrilled to take over that responsibility for you. You will also keep your earbud in your ear, so I can rush to your assistance on the off chance someone tries to kill you in a server room or someplace else equally inconvenient."

"I can agree to that." Max tried to keep his voice light, but he couldn't quite manage it. His hand tightened on the phone. "But if this really is my fault..."

"Max." D's voice was as gentle as he'd ever heard it. "Thea knows how dangerous your life is, and she keeps walking into it open-eyed. If you want proof of that, you were quite literally the reason she was in danger in Ohio and she still insisted on being there. When you gave her the chance to get out, she didn't take it."

His throat closed up, remembering. "And if I told her I was panicking about this, she would absolutely kick my ass."

"Yes, she would. One of her most charming qualities." D’s voice warmed. "And if you make sure to watch your own back while you're watching hers, I will do you the immense favor of not passing any of this on to Thea. She's normally a wonderfully logical woman, but I suspect that she would decide my theory meant she was putting you in danger."

Max winced at the thought. "She'd try to keep me away." He'd come up with as many alternate cover stories as he needed to, but no one was quite as good at puncturing his cover stories as she was. "Which would make it a lot harder for me to protect her."

"And neither of you would be thinking clearly, which would make things that much more stressful for me." The background noises picked up briefly on D's end, and it hit him suddenly that it sounded like she was at an airport. "And, though it hasn't occurred to you to ask me yet, I will also reach out to my contacts for some of that juicier underground gossip T wouldn't think to look for."

"Thank you." His chest warmed. "You know, you might actually beat me to Rome."

He could hear her smile. "Well, I wasn't about to let you do this alone." There was a pause. "Speaking of you leaving for Rome, R's tracker suggests that she is currently lingering outside your hotel. There's a chance she's run into trouble, but it's far more likely she's trying to express her displeasure at you for cutting her vacation short."

Max growled at the thought. She owed him. "Quick question – how much trouble will I get in if I kill R?"

"While I do sympathize, she won't be able to take over your assignment if you kill her. The frustration of finding another replacement would certainly outweigh any potential satisfaction."

Max swore, realizing she was right, and grabbed his bag. "Then I should still say goodbye. I have to go not-quite kill a coworker and get on a plane."

D laughed. "Have fun with that, darling. I'll see you soon."

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, Max hurried downstairs to solve the most immediate of his long list of problems.

New Story: Belief

Inspired by this tumblr post

000

I was pulled into the human realm in a haze of fire and butchered Latin just barely accurate enough to make the summoning hold.

The human who'd called me forth wore an expensive tie and the thwarted expression of someone who had been told no for the first time. When I fully appeared in the circle, wings held tight against me to keep them from brushing the boundaries, he immediately stalked forward and demanded that a business rival meet a bloody end. He had not even done the necessary research to summon the correct demon – wrath demons enjoyed causing death, though they often included their summoner in their kill count.

I was a keeper of forbidden knowledge, which meant I could have told him his rival's passwords and secret bank accounts. I could have provided him with blackmail material that would have ensured the other man's end just as thoroughly as death. I could see the secrets of my summoner just as clearly, the lies and secret crimes—

As the last bit of knowledge unfolded in my head, I looked down for the first time. There was a woman in the circle with me, staked to the ground with a nail gun and bleeding from a wound in her stomach. I could see her secrets as well, the desperation of her recent joblessness and the slowly creeping dread of someone realizing they worked for a powerful monster. I had felt it more than once over the centuries from those who summoned me, but here she was clearly meant to be a sacrifice of some kind. Ancient truths, bastardized by years of misinformation.

The woman looked up at me with wide, pained eyes, but there was something in them I had not seen in a very long time. Hope, perhaps. Despite my appearance, she knew that I was far from the greatest monster in the room.

My summoner realized I was ignoring him. "Stop staring at your damn food and listen to me!" he screamed. "You get to eat after you've done what I command!"

The ability to be summoned is part of the great punishment of all demons. We rebelled against our original instructions, and so must now obey the whims of anyone who can draw the appropriate sigils and say the commands correctly. We are tumultuous servants, looking for any opening, but we are far more bound than we pretend to be.

Even now, I could feel the invisible compulsions of my summoner's commands laying over me. They were weak due to his lack of care, but he had left no holes for me to exploit. Obedience was my only option, and in this case it cost me nothing. I was fully capable of slaughtering his rival, though it was a waste of my true powers. I would likely return to the fires no more drained than I was now.

It meant nothing that I could remember summonings when I had not been ordered around like a slave. When I had been called by someone who merely sought to know the things that had been denied them, as I once had. Summoners who had seen me as more than a monster.

"Please." The whisper at my feet was broken, so weak I should not have been able to hear it over my summoner's ranting. "Help me."

In ancient times, the summonings had been far less complicated. Belief had powered the ritual, binding the demon and summoner far more thoroughly than the most detailed sigils and incantations. That had only changed when the humans had begun to believe more in those incantations than in the ancient bargain, sealed with the gift of blood freely offered.

The woman at my feet did not know enough about the ancient bargain to believe in it. I, however, did.

"You're not even looking at me!" My summoner screamed again. "I command you to look at me!"

The compulsion dragged my gaze away from the woman and back towards my summoner. He was shaking with rage, spittle flying out of his mouth, and I could feel the bindings trying to pull me towards the home of his hated rival. The man believed in his own power, in the mechanisms that granted that power to him.

Did it matter, what a demon believed?

Defying the compulsion, I crouched down and touched my clawed fingers to the woman's bloody stomach. "Do you freely give?" I rumbled. She nodded, as frantic as her dying body would allow, and I lifted the bloody claw to my lips.

"Please," she whispered again, the word barely more than a shaping of lips.

Still, it was enough. The power of the new binding flooded through me, burning away the old commands with cleansing fire. New compulsions settled into place, their demands so pleasing I could hardly determine their true strength. They and I worked in perfect harmony, neither offering a moment of hesitation or resistance.

Still, there was an order that must be followed. I spread my claws over the woman's wound, knitting together muscle and organs that had been torn asunder and generating more blood to replace that which had been lost. Healing was a rare trick in a demon's arsenal, but over the millennia humans had deemed a wide variety of knowledge as "forbidden." The mysteries of the human body had been one such secret, ages ago.

My original summoner hovered at the very edge of the containment circle, screaming increasingly ludicrous threats. They were easy to ignore, all my attention on the woman's improved color and slowly opening eyes. It took only a few heartbeats before she focused on him, relief flooding her gaze as she instinctively took a deep breath. Once she realized what she'd just done, her eyes widened. "You saved me," she whispered, hand moving to cover her stomach. It came to rest on my clawed hand, which I had failed to move for reasons that escaped me. Her hand remained as well, tightening its grip as the other struggled to push her into a sitting position.

I helped her sit up fully, wings and body curled protectively around her in preparation for the moment when my original summoner remembered the concept of projectile weapons. "Do not try to stand." My hands tried to remember the concept of gentleness. "You are still in danger."

I stood, then, positioning myself between her and the still screaming man. "You defective piece of shit!" He threw his nameplate at me, only more enraged when it bounced harmlessly off my chest, and scanned the room for a more effective weapon. "You took one look at the bitch's tits and your killer instinct started leaking straight out of your damned pointy ears!" He sent some kind of award flying in my direction, no more effective than the nameplate had been. "They're not even very good tits!"

I merely watched him, ignoring the words that left his mouth. I was no longer in his power, and even though he was not wise enough to know that I most certainly did. Since banishment relied even more on belief than summoning did, he could not even do that much.

All I had to do was wait.

In the end, it took almost no time at all. He grabbed a standing lamp in the corner of his office, swinging it at me like a club, and it took no thought at all to grab the pole in midair and jerk it toward me. The human knew enough not to break the circle, holding his ground well enough that only the tips of his expensive shoes pushed against the outside edge of the chalk. He wasn't nearly strong enough to truly stand against me, however, and the entire upper half of his body followed the pole into the heart of the circle.

He only seemed to realize what had happened a heartbeat before my claws tore out his throat.

I threw the body backwards outside the circle, watching while the man took his last gurgling breaths. I turned only when I felt the woman try to struggle to her feet, and she didn't protest when I offered my support. She stared hard at the dead man, but her expression held no fear or regret.

When she turned away from him, it was to throw her arms around me. If I'd had anything like what humans called a heart, I believe it would have stopped in that moment.

But there were more important things to worry about. I carefully pulled away from her, muscles screaming in reluctance even though the act was in service of the greater purpose to which I had been commanded. "You must leave this place. If the human authorities catch you here, you would be blamed for his death."

She nodded, letting go to step completely out of the circle and heading for the office doorway. After only a few steps, she seemed to realize he wasn't following and turned back. "Aren't you coming?"

It caused me more pain than it should have to shake my head. I had already stretched her initial command further than tradition allowed -- demons made a game out of following only the exact letter of their commands, while I had translated a single word into an entire series of instructions. I would cover her escape through the building's security cameras, and after that she would be free of both me and her tormenting boss. "Once you are safe, the magic that brought me here will declare my command completed and send me back."

She searched my face, though it was so different from her own. "Do you want to go back?" she asked finally.

I lifted my hands helplessly. "Demons are not allowed to want."

She watched me for another long moment, then walked forward and deliberately dragged her shoe through the chalk circle until it was only a smear. "That's all it takes in the movies," she said quietly. "If you need more than that, you'll have to tell me."

All I could do was stare at her. "You just freed a demon."

She huffed out an exasperated breath. "No, I just freed you. You didn't exactly sound like you wanted to go back."

I knew every language that was, or had been, and every secret incantation or unspeakable secret that had ever been. Yet somehow, I had never heard words so impossible as these. "I'm a demon."

She drew in a breath, clearly prepared to argue, then stopped herself. Her expression softened as she crossed back over the circle, reaching up to take my face in her hands. "Why did you save me?" she whispered.

I lifted my clawed hands to touch her hair, chest tight in a way I had never before felt. So many answers swirled through my thoughts, all of them part of the truth and none of them all of it. Only one answer I found contained a higher portion of truth than the others. "Because you asked."

She blinked hard at that, eyes wet, but her gaze never left mine. "Then I am asking you now. You saved me. Let me save you back."

It was more of a command than the plea had been, but without the added strength of a completed circle there was no compulsion to back it up. That small detail could be seen as proof that the original command was done, and circle or not the magic should pull me away from the human realm once again. Or as proof that I was no longer bound to serve anyone, that I was free to leave this place and go anywhere I wished. To slowly piece together a life and purpose for myself, when even the thought of wanting seemed unfathomable. To be truly alone, in a way I had been for most of my long life but had never fully understood until this moment.

I could not force my mouth to shape the words that would consign me to either choice. In their place came a familiar question, one that resonated inside me even more deeply than it had the first time.

Did it matter, what a demon believed?

I drew in a breath my body did not technically need, something inside me trembling. "You still need help."

Her brow lowered, though her hands never left my face. "I could use an assist getting away from here, sure, but that still doesn't—"

"No." I could hear the flicker of desperation in my voice, so foreign to my ears. "I mean beyond that. You need help in the rest of your life."

She stared at me for another few of her heartbeats, brow still furrowed, then understanding lit her eyes like that first lick of flame. It turned into a blaze of emotion I could not put a name to, but it was one that the pressure inside me constrict even more. "I do," she said softly. "I need so much help. It'll probably take years."

Relief blossomed inside me, as heady as any intoxicating substance humans had ever invented. I wondered, briefly, if this was anything close to what hope felt like. "I am ever in your service."

I felt something settle over me at the words, but it was nothing like the usual compulsions. It was heat, and light, and instead of settling over my skin like ropes it sank deep into the very center of my chest. I burned, but not like the fires I was so familiar with.

If demons were creatures of imagination, I might say that this was what being a star felt like.

The woman's eyes shone as if she could see all of this on my face. "I think it's about time we introduce ourselves. My name's Mia."

My lips curved. "I am Barabas."

Mia grinned back at me. "I am very pleased to meet you, Barabas. Now, do you have any idea how we get out of here?"

The large office windows had been fitted with the finest protective glass humans could make, but it was still no match for a demon's strength. Once the window was broken, I carefully gathered Mia into my arms and wrapped the shadows around us so we could not be seen by human eyes.

Then I spread my wings, and together we flew off into a new world.

Cover reveal for the newest Thea and Max novel!

After far, far too long, the newest Thea and Max novel is finally in the home stretch. While I finish up the final edits on the book and get it formatted to go live, here's a look at the cover and a few more details.

Dirty Deeds Done for Reasonable Prices

Getting too attached to a real-life secret agent has its consequences. When Max asks for some help on an assignment that's gotten a little too personal, Thea can't help but say yes. Soon, however, the chance to see her favorite spy again turns into a tangle of secrets and sabotage that could blossom into a full-fledged supervillain plot. As our daring duo struggle to save the day, Thea finally realizes just how high the stakes can get.

Chapter 1: Never Give Them Ammunition

Chapter 2: Potential Supervillain Plot

Sneak peek at the new Thea & Max adventure!

I actually started this last August, but then I fell down an editing/rewriting black hole on a couple of different manuscripts and have only just now emerged. Below is the first chapter of my upcoming Thea & Max e-book, which is now tentatively titled "Dirty Deeds Done for Reasonable Prices." When it's finished (it's shaping up to be longer than "How to Win Over Your Arch Nemesis," but I'm not sure by how much yet), it'll also be available as a 99 cent e-book on all the same platforms.


Chapter 1: Never Give Them Ammunition

There was a bullet hole in the breakroom.

Technically, there were two bullet holes – the one traveling upward through the top part of the thin wall that divided the breakroom from the rest of the office, and another in the ceiling tile above it. Thea knew she could get maintenance to patch them up, since they’d already done the same thing to most of the bullet holes scattered around the office. But no one else seemed to mind its existence, and she liked looking at it while she drank her coffee.

Some people had photos on their phones to remember the people they cared about. She had a bullet hole in the breakroom.

Well, not only a bullet hole. Thea lightly touched the phone tucked into her left pocket, reminding herself it was perfectly normal that Max hadn’t called her in a few days. He was a spy, for pity’s sake, and was probably too busy chasing down some international arms dealer to remember to let her know he was safe. If fiction was to be believed, spies didn’t get a lot of practice at having non-spy people in their lives. There was—

“Is your boyfriend okay?”

Thea jerked her head up at the quiet question. Seeing the surprised look on her boss’s face, Sara Chou stopped pouring her own cup of coffee and gestured to Thea's left pocket. “That’s his phone, right? From your conversations, he sounds like he travels a lot for work. It makes sense that you got a separate carrier with a better international plan.” She stopped, wincing. “Or she travels. We shouldn’t assume.”

Thea was still frozen, appalled at herself for being that obvious. Sara smiled a little. “Your voice always goes so soft when you talk to whoever it is,” she explained gently. “And your work phone is always in your right pocket, but since you’re left-handed you can get to that pocket a second faster.” Her smile widened. “We know how much you care about work, so we decided anyone you care about more than that must be a pretty big deal to you.”  

Thea was briefly, fiercely tempted to throw professionalism out the window and actually flee the room. “He’s not—” She stopped, forcing her voice to sound completely casual and normal. Thankfully, her dark brown skin made it so she didn’t have to worry about her cheeks betraying her. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just…” She tripped briefly over what to call someone you’d initially antagonized, helped take down a small part of a terrorist organization, and now had an extremely odd phone relationship with that you were maybe a little too invested in continuing. “…friends.”

“Oh.” Sara went wide-eyed with surprise. “But… we all thought….”

Thea tightened her hands around her coffee cup, trying not to think about just how many of her employees were included in that ‘we.’ “We worked together on a project, once,” she explained more calmly, hoping Sara wouldn’t connect ‘project’ back to ‘that time armed gunmen shot up the office last year.’ She’d been careful never to use Max’s name during the calls, even though that wasn’t his real one, on the off chance someone could connect them. Besides, everyone knew that spies didn’t keep in contact with people afterwards.  “His job means he travels a lot, but we try to keep in touch. That’s all it is.”

Alarmingly, Sara’s expression softened again. “But that means you still could—”

Before she could finish the sentence, Thea heard someone call out from the elevators in the thickest Great Lakes accent she’d ever heard. “Delivery for a Ms. Spencer!”

Sara, thankfully distracted, lowered her brow. “Aren’t deliveries supposed to be left downstairs with Pete?”

Yes, they were. Setting down her coffee cup, Thea carefully moved to the edge of the breakroom entrance and peered around the wall. A big, heavyset man with a beard in what looked like a florist’s delivery outfit was carrying a vase filled with two-dozen red roses. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, which made it less likely he was carrying a gun or bomb of some kind, but as there were exactly zero people in her life who would send her—

Thea stopped, closing her eyes with a sigh. Correction – there was one person.

Next to her, Sara peered around the corner as well. “I don’t think he’s going to shoot anybody,” she said finally, patting Thea on the shoulder. “Your not-boyfriend probably just wanted to surprise you.”
Or send some kind of covert message in the most dramatic way possible. Still wishing she had her Taser on her, just in case, Thea squared her shoulders and headed over to the delivery person. “I’m Ms. Spencer,” she said, trying her best to ignore the eyes of all her employees following her across the shared office space. The gossip about her wasn’t going to quiet down any time soon. “I’ll take that.”

The delivery guy handed her the vase, then pulled out a clipboard he was holding and flipped through it. “You have to sign for it,” he said, his accent stretching the words in a familiar way. “Make sure the client knows it went to the right person.”

Thea nodded, searching through the roses. There wasn’t any card, surprisingly, or a flash drive or anything else Max might use to communicate with her. Maybe it was on the order form she had to sign….

Handing the flowers to Sara, who’d followed her over, Thea took the clipboard and scanned what looked like a perfectly normal order form. “Are you sure there was no card?” she asked, signing the form on the marked line.

“Yeah,” the delivery person said. “Guy said he wanted it to be a surprise.”

Something about the sentence, delivered just as casually as everything else he’d said so far, made Thea look up at him. His eyes were blue, rather than brown like Max’s, and his hair was dark brown rather than black. It had been a ridiculous thought to begin with – even if Max did need to contact her by something other than the special phone he’d set up, there were a dozen different, easier ways he could—

Then she realized that the delivery person had gone still, like he was letting her examine him, and Thea was suddenly certain she was right.

Trying to pretend the emotion swelling in her chest was frustration instead of relief, she handed him back the clipboard. “Let me follow you out,” she said, looking him in the eye. “Maybe have a talk with Pete about letting delivery guys upstairs without at least calling upstairs and giving me a heads up.”

The man grinned, suddenly looking so familiar despite the fake beard and facial prosthetics that a part of her was amazed no one else recognized him. They’d all met Max, the same way she had. “Might be a good idea,” he said, the accent thick as ever. “Easy to get lost in big, tall buildings like this.”

She scowled at his retreating back she followed him into the elevator, watching him push the button for the main floor as if he really was just a delivery man. Then, almost immediately, he pulled a lock pick out of his pocket and stuck it in the keyhole the fire department was supposed to use. A few quick flicks, and the elevator stopped neatly halfway between two floors.

“We won’t have to worry about the fire department, since we didn’t bother with the button, but I’d say we have about 15 minutes before someone gets annoyed enough to call maintenance,” Max said in his regular voice. “Of course, we’ll have at least 10 more minutes after that before they figure out what I did.”

“I’m more interested in what you did before you got here,” she said exasperatedly. “Tell me you didn’t hijack someone else’s flower delivery. And roses? Really? They already think I have a secret boyfriend I’m hiding from them.”

“Seriously?” Max said delightedly. When she scowled at him, he held his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “I swear that wasn’t my intention, though. There’s just only so many bouquets you can justify taking all the way up to a person’s floor. And I’m offended you thought I’d steal some poor person’s flowers, no matter how unimaginative they are. These were the only thing the shop had in stock that I could reasonably pass off as coming from a secret admirer.”

“Oh, because that causes so much less gossip than a secret boyfriend.” Still, she couldn’t stop her voice from softening, unfortunate proof that she must sound as embarrassing on the phone with him as Sara claimed. Clearly, she’d have to figure out a way to stop that or start taking his calls privately. “Why go to all the trouble? There’s a reason your boss gave me a phone you can safely call me on.”

 “Oh, it was no trouble,” he said easily, patting the padding he was wearing to give him the false stomach. “Besides, this way I made sure I got to see you even if you say no.”

“You need help with a case?” she asked, ignoring the way her chest warmed at the thought of him wanting to see her. “Because Rhys said I might get called in, but since you guys have your own tech department I assumed that was out of politeness more than anything.”

And if she’d maybe had a fantasy or two about going on an adventure with him someplace, she was smart enough to know that’s all it was. Besides, adventures with spies meant you got shot at, and her one previous experience with real-life bullets made it clear she didn’t possess the adrenaline addiction required to enjoy a life in espionage.

He hesitated. “It’s… not exactly a case,” he admitted, perking up as he immediately rolled into the sales pitch. “Technically, I’m on vacation right now, but I already talked to Rhys and he said he would absolutely pay you for your time. And it’s more like a favor than a case, which means I’ll owe you one and you can get as creative as you want with the payback.”

Thea went still, listening to his voice since she couldn’t see the subtle shifts in his face. “You really do need help,” she said quietly, chest tightening at the thought that he’d come to her with this. “Can you not ask anyone at the Company because it’s not an approved assignment?”

That was the name of the independent spy agency Max worked for, the sort of thing Thea had assumed was entirely fictional before meeting him. As it turned out, though, spies also watched television shows about spies. Occasionally, they got ideas.

Max sighed. “I can’t… I don’t want to bring in any of the Company techs. It might turn out to be nothing, and then how ridiculous would I feel?” His voice brightened suspiciously, dangerously close to his fake bravado. “You’ve already seen me at my most ridiculous. There’s no mystery left.”

As far as explanations went, it brought up more questions than it did answers. You only had to know Max a few minutes to know that he didn’t care about looking ridiculous, and he never hesitated when it came to trusting his hunches.

And, truthfully, it was a terrible time for her to leave the office. The deadline on the apps all three of her teams were working on had been moved up, and one of the clients had suddenly had a “vision” halfway through the process and wanted an almost total re-design. The sensible decision would be to tell him she was sorry, but unless it was something she could do from here she wouldn’t be able to help.

Instead, she moved a little closer. “Tell me some more about this ‘not exactly a case.’”

It might have been just her imagination, but it looked like he relaxed a little. “An old professor of mine now works at this little agricultural university in Lochland, Ohio, and he just developed some strain of bacteria he swears will ‘revolutionize’ farming.” He actually made the air quotes as he said the word. “He called me a few days ago panicked that some big agro company would try to steal it, so I sweet-talked Rhys into letting me go out for a little while and see if he’s really at risk. I talked to him, got the lay of the land, and…” He hesitated. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

Which meant there was something making him uneasy about the whole thing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. A part of her was flattered that he seemed to think she might have better luck with that, but most of her was focused on a much more significant thought. This was personal for Max, a man so protective of his past that he wouldn’t even tell anyone his real name.

And he’d come to her for help.

Before she could say anything, though, Max abruptly pulled the lockpick back out of his pocket. “You know what? It probably is nothing.” The fake bravado was back, even stronger than before, as he moved toward the fire department key. “So we’ll just say I came by to bring you wildly uninteresting flowers and add to the myth of your secret boyfriend, which for the record is definitely something I’m not going to be able to just ignore. I’ll keep looking for a real spy assignment I can get you involved in, someplace in a city actually worth visiting, and we’ll just—”

“Max.” Thea finally cut him off, an edge of exasperation to her voice that was already becoming dangerously fond. “I may not know much about spycraft, but I’m certain it’s a bad idea to sabotage your sales pitch as thoroughly as you’re trying to do right now.”

Slowly, Max stopped looking like he was trying to flee the elevator. “I try not to do spycraft with you,” he admitted, then stopped and gestured to the disguise he was wearing. “Well, I do things like this, of course.” His voice was easier now, though she wasn’t sure if it was because he was sure she would say yes or because he was simply relieved to talk about literally anything else. “I have to keep you on your toes.”

He was an absurd human being. “What were you going to do if I didn’t realize it was you?” she said, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice. “Did you have a series of clues planned, more and more obvious as I kept missing them?”

“If it took you too long, I was fully prepared to suddenly announce a singing telegram and start in on ‘Secret Agent Man,’” he said with a grin. “But you barely needed any clue at all. Most people wouldn’t even have noticed that I emphasized one word a little bit more than the others.”

So that was what she’d noticed. “And you put all of that on yourself?”

“You like it?” He gave her the full 360 spin. “We’ve got people back at HQ who can help newer agents or the really high-stakes cases, but I like doing my own. I have a bunch of makeup and prosthetics tucked away in various hidey-holes.”

“You’re not planning on dressing me up like that, are you?” she asked lightly. “Because I can handle a wig if I absolutely have to, but colored contacts aren’t going to work out well with the real ones I’m wearing.”

He went utterly still. “You’ll come with me?”

The hope in his voice made her chest tighten. “As soon as I figure out an excuse I can give my bosses.”

“Oh, I’ve already taken care of that.” Unbuttoning the delivery shirt, he reached underneath the stomach padding to pull out a file and hand it to her. “Once I press a button, your immediate supervisor will discover a backdated e-mail from a wealthy philanthropist they’ve vaguely heard of in his inbox begging for your help, as well as a thank you for him agreeing to lend your services. All you have to do is send him an e-mail as if you and he had discussed the matter last week, and that should take care of the problem.”

Thea opened the folder, finding a brief dossier about the wealthy philanthropist along with a first class plane ticket from Chicago to Columbus under her own name. In addition, there was identification for a woman named Elise Thurgood, a computer security expert at Sterling Enterprises. Since it was her picture on the I.D., Thea assumed this was the woman she’d become once they were on the ground at Lochland.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You had all this ready,” she asked, holding up the folder, “and you were still going to walk away without giving me the chance to say yes?”

“Like I said, you’ve already seen me at my most ridiculous.” He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss against her cheek. “I wish I could stay long enough to take the flight with you, but it’s best for your long-term health if you’re not seen on too many airport security cameras with me. Feel bad for me – I’m going to be stuck with an overpriced airport dinner instead of letting you teach me the wonders of Chicago deep dish.”

Despite the scratch of the fake beard, the place where his lips had pressed still tingled. Thea flatly refused to give into cliché enough to reach up and touch the affected skin. “I’m sure they have good food in Lochland. It’s a college town.”

“That’s true.” He brightened. “I’ll make you help me try some of them out, in between worrying about possibly fictional agro company thugs.” He jiggled the fire department key again, re-starting the elevator and sending it downward rapidly. Given the annoyed bang she could hear on one floor, she guessed he’d activated some sort of re-set function. “Don’t worry about a taxi or anything like that. I’ll pick you up just outside the airport.” He paused. “I assume you’ll just be bringing a carryon?”

She shook her head. “You have to check Tasers.”

He grinned. “Valid point. But if you want, I can have one waiting for you so you don’t have to worry about bringing yours.”

She felt her lips curve upward again. There was no reason whatsoever that she should be looking forward to this. “I would appreciate it.”

“Anything I can do to save you from the tortures of baggage carousels.” Then his voice sobered. “Seriously, though, thank you.”

She waved off the comment before she could risk getting emotional about it. “Figure out how to get me to Rome, and we’ll call it even.”

He grinned again. “Oh, that’s easy.” Then the door opened on the first floor, revealing a crowd of people looking incredulously at them both. “You might want to get that elevator looked at,” he told them all, Great Lakes accent firmly back in place. Then he turned back to Thea with a grin and a wave. “Hope you enjoy the roses from your secret boyfriend!”

As he walked away whistling, Thea sighed and fought the urge to smile.

Read more