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    Deceptions
    Deceptions
    Deceptions
    Ebook500 pages7 hours

    Deceptions

    By Kelley Armstrong

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    The #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Otherworld series and Hemlock Island delivers her most suspenseful novel yet, where the discovery of Cainsville’s dark past and the true nature of its inhabitants leads to murder, redemption, love, and unspeakable loss.

    Olivia Taylor Jones’s life has exploded. She’s discovered she is not only adopted, but her real parents are convicted serial killers. Fleeing the media frenzy, she took refuge in the oddly secluded town of Cainsville. She has since solved the town’s mysteries and finds herself not only the target of its secretive elders but also her stalker ex-fiancé.

    Visions continue to haunt her: particularly a little blond girl in a green sundress who insists she has an important message for Olivia, one that may help her balance the light and darkness within herself. Death stalks both Olivia and the two men most important to her, as she desperately searches to understand whether ancient scripts are dictating the triangle that connects them. Will darkness prevail, or does Olivia have the power to prevent a tragic fate?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPenguin Publishing Group
    Release dateAug 18, 2015
    ISBN9780698191129
    Deceptions
    Author

    Kelley Armstrong

    When librarians finally granted Kelley Armstrong an adult card, she made straight for the epic fantasy and horror shelves. She spent the rest of her childhood and teen years happily roaming fantastical and terrible worlds, and vowed that someday she'd write a story combining swords, sorcery, and the ravenous undead. That story began with the New York Times bestselling Sea of Shadows and continues with Empire of Night. Armstrong's first works for teens were the New York Times bestselling Darkest Powers and Darkness Rising trilogies. She lives in rural Ontario with her husband, three children, and far too many pets.

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    Reviews for Deceptions

    4/5

    156 ratings12 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Olivia Jones is desperate for the truth. The daughter of convicted serial killers, she has begun to suspect that her parents are innocent of their crimes. But who can she trust, in a world where betrayal and deception hide in every shadow? Liv does have one secret weapon: a mysterious sixth sense that helps her to anticipate danger. The trouble is, this rare power comes with its own risks. There are dark forces that want to exploit Liv's talents - and will stop at nothing to win her to their side. Now Liv must decide, before it's too late. Who does she love? Who is really on her side? And can she save herself without burning down everything that matters most? Okay, so, it’s a guilty pleasure. I love Kelley Armstrong. And really? This isn’t paranormal romance. It’s an interesting mystery and I like.
    • 5/5
      This is the third book in the Cainsville series. In it Olivia learns a lot more about her past. She is also learning about what the fae want from her. Being Olivia, she isn't going to give it to them unless it is what she wants too.

      This story begins with a phone call from James who is Olivia's former fiance and her current stalker. Both Gabriel and Ricky have tried all they can to get him to stop harassing Olivia but nothing has worked. Olivia can't understand how the man she loved enough to accept a marriage proposal from could ever become the person he is now.

      Meanwhile, Gabriel and Olivia are still working on getting her birth parents out of prison. They have already proven that they didn't commit one of the murders that they were convicted for. They are still pursuing leads that have grown cold in the twenty-two years since they were convicted. Olivia finally gets to meet her father in prison which is a very traumatic experience for her.

      Olivia is also having visions of the past which are providing her with at least as many questions as answers. The fae are telling her that she, Gabriel and Ricky are reliving an old story and her choices could determine the fate of the fae.

      I like Olivia a lot. As Rose's tarot card reading tells us, she is bright, perceptive, intuitive and independent and sometimes cold-hearted, critical and cynical. I like that she knows what she wants out of life and isn't going to let anyone push her around. I also like Ricky who is a perfect romantic partner for her.

      I love Gabriel who is such a heart-breaking character. As a child he suffered both abuse and neglect at the hands of his drug-addicted mother. It has made him into an adult who is very protective of what he has. He can't touch and has no emotional intuition. He is very private and isn't going to risk his heart with anyone. He knows this about himself but has no way to change. I like that Olivia also knows who he is and is determined to be his friend no matter how hard it is.

      While this book has a satisfying conclusion, I am glad that the author has already sold books four and five in this series. I can't wait to find out what happens next.
    • 5/5
      Loved it!

      I just love this series. I just loved the characters. This heartbreakingly beautiful story had me smiling with warmth and had my in bittersweet tears. There was enough loyalty and betrayal to hold my interest throughout the story. This feels like the last book of a trilogy but I hope not. I think there are many more tales to tell about Cainville.
    • 3/5
      I admit, I like the whole mythology going on here. But I am also firmly #TeamPoly so I cannot get behind any of this love triangle nonsense.

      There's been a lot of back and forth and uncovered secrets leading to more secrets but Olivia finally knows the truth about the Larsens and the murders. Finally.
    • 1/5
      I have not read the first two books in this series. Perhaps if I had, I would not have been as lost as I was. The title and the back cover blurb made me think this was going to be mystery. I did not expect it to have a paranormal/fantasy twist based on the back cover blurb (though on a later reading, I did notice the vision aspect).
    • 4/5
      I spent most of the day comfortably absorbed in Deceptions. Although I can't do a complete buy in to Ricky the character, he is at least as good as all the strong supportive werewolf main squeezes in the Urban fantasy canon. The connection of plot, character, pacing, and settings comes of just as strong as in the two earlier Cainsville novels though with a decided dearth of Cainsville. We spend a lot more time in Gabriel's head than heretofore and it is not a comfortable place, no surprise.
    • 4/5
      Can we talk about this book? Because I want to talk about this book. I want to talk endlessly about this book and all that I love about it, but I hope not to give anything away.

      This, for some reason, I have only read twice, but I don’t know why? Apparently I was being silly. Because this book deserves many re-reads, and in fact, I hate past-me’s original review of this book. Because seriously? I missed out on a lot.

      I love that this book basically immediately follows Omens, meaning if you read them back to back, like I am doing right now, you get a seamless, day to day reading experience of Olivia’s life. And that.is.awesome!

      Pamela as a mother is lacking, and it’s never more apparent than in this book. I absolutely, positively do not trust her but that might be after-thought as I have read the later books in this series…Spoiler alert…for myself?

      Olivia and Gabriel are closer now, even if Gabriel himself would refuse to admit it (I’d think). But actions speak louder than words. And Gabriel’s actions reveal that he is starting to like her, or at the very least is used to her slotting into her routine.

      Ricky is gorgeous. He even sounds gorgeous on the page. He seems like he could be a literary underwear model, but he has a brain in his head, which I appreciate. He isn’t just a side-piece, and Olivia isn’t just his. He’s well-rounded, respectful, and just generally awesome.

      Kelley Armstrong does what he does best, weaving a bit of the preternatural into the plot, and then hitting us with the big moment at the end.

      You’ll like this book if you like mystery, suspense, or fantasy. Or all of it at once. Just trust me.
    • 5/5
      Love, love, love. This is a wonderful series, great characters, good story. The only instance I know of a love triangle well done. No contrived misunderstandings (of course there are misunderstandings, but they are handled quite maturely). No damsel-like behaviour. In general, mature behaviour. Everything is very believable, and the character development is well done.
    • 4/5
      This is the third book in an “urban fantasy” series about Olivia Taylor-Jones, 24, who discovers she is not at all who she thought she was. When she moves to Cainsville, an out-of-the way suburb of Chicago, she meets a number of people who are fae or part-fae, and who seem to think she has a pivotal role in the future of their races, with two different types of fae vying for hegemony. In fact, she learns that this conflict involves both the attorney she has come to work for and value as a friend, Gabriel Walsh, as well as her boyfriend Ricky Gallagher. She must make a choice between them, and this decision matters enough to both sides of the battle between the fae that her choice could be deadly for all of them.

      Discussion: As with her other books in the series, Armstrong educates us on different aspects of mythological folklore, particularly that of the British Isles. In this story, Cainsville was founded by the Tylwyth Teg, Welsh mythological fairy folk. They are battling for their futures against the Cŵn Annwn, also from Welsh mythology and folklore. This latter group includes the spectral hounds of Annwn, the otherworld of Welsh myth. Tradition holds that the Tylwtyh Teg are led by Gwynn ap Nudd, and the Cŵn Annwn are led by Arawn. The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a woman called Mallt-y-Nos, "Matilda of the Night”. In some versions of the folktales, Matilda originally chose Gwynn for her mate, but ended up with Arawn instead. The two species have been at war ever since.

      Through visions, Olivia comes to understand that she, Gabriel, and Ricky represent new versions of Matilda, Gwynn, and Arawn, and Olivia is, as in the myths of old, asked to choose between the two men who love her. Also like the myths, Olivia finds she has feelings for both. Ricky is easier; he readily admits he loves Olivia and is eager to spend his life with her. Gabriel is prickly and protective of himself; he has barriers up against being hurt that are almost impossible to breach. Nevertheless, she knows she feels fiercely loyal to both of them. As this book ends, she thinks she has made her decision. And yet….

      Evaluation: For fans of urban fantasy, it’s hard to do better than Kelley Armstrong. She does employ some recurring themes in all of her series, such as a strong woman trying to decide between one man with whom a relationship would be easy, and one with whom it would be more challenging, to say the least. There are warring factions of paranormals. And there are usually a number of “innocent” non-paranormals who become casualties in these struggles. But Armstrong is so good at what she does, that I for one don’t mind any parallels among the series. On the contrary, it is a way to continue with stories and characterizations I have loved before.
    • 4/5
      The Good Stuff

      This series just gets better and better
      Adored the opening chapter and the banter between Olivia and Gabriel
      Non stop action and plenty of twists and turns
      As mentioned on many occasions, Kelley Armstrong is a born storyteller and she never fails to keep me absorbed in her imaginative worlds
      Olivia is kick ass - she takes shit from no one and liver her life the way she wants to
      Um Ricky and Gabriel - yeah I think I am a little in love with both of them
      I love the cover on this one
      Does bring a little attention to what Spina Bifida is (Um and if we go with Kelley's story - my son must be Tylwyth Teg )
      Exceptionally well developed world building
      Puts together fairies and the x-files in one paragraph - made me laugh my ass off

      The Not So Good Stuff

      I know its silly but cannot mention why without giving away a major spoiler. My son has Spina Bifida and it has to do something with that
      They fey always confuse me a little -- not a complaint about the author or the story, just something that affects my personal enjoyment of the story (but hey it still gets 4.5/5)

      Favorite Quotes/Passages


      "I woke up to my ex-fiance calling. Which was awkward, considering we'd only broken up two months ago and I was in another guy's apartment. Even more awkward when that guy wasn't the one I was currently dating. In my defense I was on the couch."



      "Exactly. I'm the Lord Byron of bikers. Except, being a biker, naturally I don't write poetry. Or read it. In fact, for the record, I have no idea who this Byron guy is."


      "I find fairies with cell phones disconcerting enough. Do they really need to use text talk."



      4.5 Dewey's


      I received this from Random House in exchange for an honest review
    • 3/5
      Listened for Review (Penguin/Random House)
      Overall Rating: 2.50
      Character Rating: 2.50
      Story Rating: 2.50

      Audio Rating: 3.50 (not part of the overall rating)

      First Thought when Finished: I gave the first two books in this series a 4.00 so I clearly love Cainsville but Deceptions by Kelley Armstrong was just not like the other two for me. I still think that most people will love it (or at least like it more than I did)!

      Things that drove me batty:

      1) Total backslide in Olivia (she sounded like a wishy washy leading lady of a NA *not the likable kind* romance)
      2) Love Triangle <---- HATE THEM with a PASSION! Especially when they are this prevalent.
      3) Random Sex because why? I mean I get it (Ricky is a hot biker) but at times it was totally random like I have gone x amount of pages without some so let me throw some in.
      4) Mystery way to easy (and totally a side thought). Since mystery was a big seller for me the first two books--this time I was way disappointed.

      Things I still liked:

      1) Writing was still strong
      2) Still like the world and loved learning more about it
      3) The mythology is great
      4) Gabriel *though I think he was a little too stubborn in accepting things at times*
      5) Ricky *though I don't feel a romantic connection between him and Liv* (which means long term she will end up with him cause that is how it goes when there is a triangle and I think there is a stronger connection with the other person)

      Honestly--I am not sure I will do book 4 at this point. I might but I have a feeling it will be triangle, triangle, triangle until the end of book 5.

      SPOILER: [ So here is the thing: I like both Ricky and Gabriel but this whole replaying a tragic love story between 3 people is like nails on a chalkboard to me. The fact that both guys are worthy (at this point Liv isn't worthy of either of the two) just makes me think of another triangle that drove me batty: Stray series by Rachel Vincent. I feel she has a more organic connection with Gabriel and more carnal connection with Ricky at this point. I just really don't know if I can sit through 2 more books of "but I LOVE them both" *sigh* only to have it end with one being not chosen or most likely dead. (hide spoiler)]

      Audio Thoughts:
      Narrated By Carine Montbertrand, Mozhan Marno /Length 14 hrs 49 min

      I think both Carine and Mozhan do a really good job but at this point there are clear "from a male POV" chapters that would be better suited for a male narrator. If you are going to have two narrators you would be better off with a male and a female for the rest of the series. In the beginning it was mostly female but in this book it was almost 50/50. I see the guys having half the book in the next two as both are key players. Still I will continue you this in audio either way.

      Part of my Read It, Rate It, File It, DONE Reveiws
    • 5/5
      I got a copy of this book from the publisher to review in exchange for an honest review. This was the third book in the Cainsville series and I enjoyed it a lot. This is by far my favorite Kelley Armstrong series. Previous to this I read part of her Women of the Otherworld series (it was okay), her Darkest Powers series (again it was okay) and her Age of Legends series (really like this one). This is the book where you start to find out a lot more about the Fae and how they are tied into Olivia’s story. There are supposed to be at least five books in this series, which makes me a very happy reader!

      Olivia Taylor Jones has started coping with the fact that her parents are serial killers, she’s spending more time away from the sanctuary of Cainsville and its invasive Elders and is working for Gabriel in Chicago. However, someone is stalking Olivia and in this book we quickly find out it is Olivia’s ex-fiance James. Visions continue to haunt Olivia especially one of a young girl in a sundress who says she has important things to tell Olivia and visions of the death of both Gabriel and Ricky. As the story unfolds we find out that Olivia, Rickey, and Gabriel are all pawns in an ancient fae war.

      I absolutely love reading urban fantasy/paranormal books involving fae. This book delves into some lesser known Welsh fae mythology, which is something I haven’t read a ton about and was very interesting.

      I really enjoyed the characters in this book as well. I love Olivia and her crazy Visions and I enjoy watching her cope with all the craziness. I adore Gabriel and how he respects and supports Olivia despite his own obsessive personality issues.

      In this book Olivia and Ricky are still together and there are some steamy scenes between the two of them. I definitely don’t like Ricky as much as Gabriel; but he is a light-hearted and fun character. You find out that the whole Ricky, Olivia, Gabriel triangle is actually there for a mythological reason.

      I continue to really enjoy the town of Cainsville and the fae elders who dwell there. We meet some new types of fae in this book and the story really increases in scope as the reasons behind the fae elders tampering are revealed.

      Overall this book is just a perfect blend of mystery, fantasy, romance, magic, and action. I really really enjoyed it a lot. This is by far my favorite Armstrong series I love the fae mythology, the wonderfully engaging characters, and the complex and well done plot. I am dying to see what happens in book 4.

    Book preview

    Deceptions - Kelley Armstrong

    CHAPTER ONE

    I woke to my ex-fiancé calling. Which was awkward, considering we’d broken up only two months ago and I was in another guy’s apartment. Even more awkward when that guy wasn’t the one I was currently dating. In my defense, I was on the couch.

    My first thought was not Answer the damned phone, Olivia. It was of a letter from my father, read right before I went to sleep, which had not been conducive to good dreams and had left me in no mood to talk to James Morgan. I reached for my phone and hit Ignore. A moment later, a shadow loomed over me.

    Gabriel picked up my phone. James. He left a message. I should take it.

    Um, my cell? My ex?

    Your stalker, too.

    I looked up. Gabriel is at least six-four and knows how to use his size to his advantage. Hence the looming.

    When I nodded, he listened to the message as I tried very hard to push aside thoughts of James and the roller-coaster ride that began when I found out my real parents were convicted serial killers. The ride had ultimately landed me here, sleeping in the apartment of one of Chicago’s most notorious defense attorneys. My lawyer. My boss. And, though I’d never dare say it in front of him, my friend.

    Gabriel Walsh doesn’t have friends. He has resources: people who can be exploited and used. I’d like to think I’m an exception, but I don’t push my luck.

    James heard about last night, Gabriel said after listening to the message.

    The car crash?

    Yes, but I believe he’s more concerned about the crazed killer who caused the crash and held you at gunpoint.

    Oh, that.

    A minor point, but it seems to bother him.

    Unreasonably so.

    Agreed. Coffee?

    I rose and started for the kitchen. I’ll make it. You were in that accident, too, and hurt a lot worse than me. You should be resting.

    He moved into my path and waved me back. That wasn’t him playing congenial host; it was him telling me to stay the hell out of his kitchen. I suspected last night was the first time he’d brought anyone up here. His apartment. His private domain.

    If you’d rather I didn’t stay— I began.

    I invited you.

    After sustaining a head injury. Which means you aren’t responsible for anything you said last night . . . except for the part where you forgave me for wrecking your car.

    You were run off the road.

    I still feel bad. It was a nice car. I paused. I’m also sorry about almost getting you killed.

    She says, as an afterthought.

    It was a really nice car.

    He shook his head and went into the kitchen. I followed as far as the doorway.

    You’ll need to let James know you’re all right, Gabriel said. I would suggest a text message. Tell him—

    I can write my own texts.

    "Yes, but this must be handled with care. While I’d prefer you didn’t engage him at all, if you don’t tell him you’re fine, he has an excuse to keep hounding you. Yet if you give any indication you’re opening the door to conversation, he has reason to keep hounding you."

    I had to agree. Gabriel dictated a message. I did tweak his wording—Gabriel’s language choices can be very precise, and James couldn’t suspect the text had come from him. He seemed to think Gabriel had a Svengali sway over me. Which showed that my former fiancé didn’t know me nearly as well as I’d thought he did.

    Message sent, we settled in with our coffee, chairs pulled to the living room window, where we could look out over Gabriel’s breathtaking view of the city.

    I had a call this morning, he said. Edgar Chandler wishes to speak to you.

    Chandler?

    Yes. Elderly gentleman. Currently incarcerated. Formerly involved in CIA experiments. Seems to have unlocked the secret of mind control. Which he used in an attempt to kill us.

    I know who Chandler is.

    It seemed as if a refresher might be required, given the sheer number of people who have tried to kill us lately.

    True. So he’ll finally speak to us?

    Chandler has no interest in me. The invitation is for you. May I presume you’ll accept?

    May I presume you’ll come with me?

    His brows shot up. Of course. Whether he wants me there or not.

    —

    Gabriel arranged to see Chandler that afternoon. A half hour later we were in the elevator, taking the fifty-five-story ride down to the underground parking garage.

    So what else are we doing today? I asked as we exited the elevator. The only thing on my schedule is working at the diner. Which I’m not. I wasn’t sure if I ever could again. I’d told Larry I was unwell—between the accident and the fever that preceded it—and needed some time off, and he’d given me two weeks.

    I require a vehicle, Gabriel said. Since that is your area of expertise, I’m taking you along to select one. After that, we’ll pick up a rental car. Then we’ll drop your car back here and—

    Skip the play-by-play and hit the highlights, please.

    Today will be devoted primarily to cleaning up the mess from yesterday. We need . . .

    An almost imperceptible tightening of his shoulders told me something had caught his attention. Gabriel has an uncanny sense for trouble, which may be because his gene pool, like mine, contains a sprinkling of fairy dust.

    What’s up? I whispered.

    He scanned the row of parked cars. Do you have your gun?

    Always.

    He put his fingers against my back and propelled me forward.

    Any warnings? he murmured.

    Portents of impending doom? I said. Not a one, but honestly? I’m discombobulated enough this morning that I could trip over five dead birds and not notice.

    We’re both out of sorts. Which reminds me that I need to stop by the doctor and pick up a prescription for pain—

    When he wheeled, I didn’t jump. Nor was I surprised to see a man two paces behind us. Gabriel admitting he needed pain meds had conveyed a warning as clearly as if he’d shouted it.

    The man didn’t look like the sort who’d be stalking us in an empty parking garage: early forties, decent suit, gray-salted beard. A reporter? I’d had to deal with plenty lately.

    May I help you? Gabriel rumbled, his deep voice dropping another octave.

    Gabriel Walsh?

    Yes.

    The man held out a thick envelope. You’ve been served. This is—

    Gabriel grabbed the guy by the wrist, wrenching his arm up. The guy yelped, but didn’t drop the envelope . . . or the semi-automatic pistol he’d tried to conceal in his other hand.

    Give Mr. Walsh your gun, I said.

    The man stared in confusion at the gun in my own hand.

    Give it to him now.

    He opened his fingers and dropped his pistol. Gabriel grabbed for it with his free hand. Then he stopped sharply. Oliv—!

    The gun clattered to the pavement. And cold steel pressed into the back of my neck.

    You don’t want to do that, Gabriel said, his pale blue eyes fixed on my captor.

    A man’s chuckle sounded behind me. I don’t believe you’re in any position to make that demand, Mr. Walsh.

    Then you are mistaken. Hurt her, and you will regret it.

    Regret it? That’s all? I expected ‘I’ll hunt you down and kill you’ at the very least.

    Death is quick. Regret is not.

    The gun pressed harder into my neck, as if the man was leaning forward. Clever, Mr. Walsh. I’m sure Ms. Jones is very impressed. Her knight in tarnished armor. Impressionable young women must find that very hard to resist.

    They may, Gabriel said. Unfortunately, we don’t have any here at the moment, so you’ll have to trust the threat is for your benefit alone.

    "Chivalry and flattery. Are your knees weak yet, Ms. Jones? Oh, and do put away the gun. Please."

    I hesitated, then lowered it into my bag.

    "Now remove your hand from your purse, Ms. Jones."

    I did.

    The man continued, I’d like to believe modern young women wouldn’t fall for Mr. Walsh’s act, but the very fact you are with him proves otherwise. We’ll have to chat about that later. For now, you’ll come with me, Ms. Jones, while Mr. Walsh releases my confederate and then stays where he is until we are out of sight. If he follows, you will pay the price. Understood, Mr. Walsh?

    My assailant dug the gun barrel in hard enough to make me wince. Gabriel punted the other man’s gun under the cars and then released him with a shove. My assailant took hold of my arm. When he lowered the gun, I stabbed him in the side, having palmed the switchblade from my purse. He fell back, and I grabbed for his gun arm. I missed. Gabriel didn’t.

    Gabriel wrenched the man’s arm up. His partner crawled after his lost weapon, but when I told him to stop, he saw the gun back in my hand and decided to listen.

    Gabriel threw my attacker to the ground. It was another guy in a suit. Bald. Thirties. He immediately started rising, one hand clutched to the knife wound. Gabriel calmly punched him in the side of the head. The guy dropped, unconscious, to the pavement.

    There’s blood on your shirt, I said.

    Gabriel glanced down and sighed.

    You can put it on my bill, I said.

    He shook his head and walked over to the first man, who had started inching toward his gun again. I’d noticed, but at the rate he was moving, he’d be lucky to make it there by lunch. Gabriel grabbed the guy from under the car, flipped him on his back, and put one Ferragamo loafer on his chest.

    I’ve decided to speak to you instead of your partner, Gabriel said. Tell me now if I’ve made the wrong choice.

    The man wriggled, as if testing how tightly he was pinned. When Gabriel leaned forward, he gasped and lay still.

    I’ll presume that means I did not, Gabriel said. Prove me wrong, and I’ll break every rib in your chest. Is that understood?

    The guy looked offended. Coming after us with guns was fine, but God forbid we should fight back.

    Olivia, could you please keep an eye on the elevator and the entrance lane? It’s after rush hour so we’re unlikely to be interrupted, but it would be inconvenient.

    Got it.

    I moved past the unconscious man and the growing pool of blood at his side. I wondered if I should do something about that, but he seemed to be breathing comfortably.

    I took up position about fifteen feet from Gabriel, where I could see anyone driving into the garage or coming off the elevator.

    Who hired you? he asked our captive.

    No answer. Then a gasp, as Gabriel presumably applied pressure—literally.

    We were hired to speak to Ms. Jones, the man said after Gabriel let up a little. By someone who is extremely concerned about her welfare. She’s in a very precarious place right now and—

    James, Gabriel said, the name a growl.

    The man continued, As my associate said, it’s obvious you’ve positioned yourself as her protector. She’s vulnerable and alone. You provided a shoulder to lean on and, in doing so, you’ve influenced her perception of reality to the point where she can no longer see the truth. It’s our job to counter that influence.

    James Morgan hired cult deprogrammers? It’s hard to surprise Gabriel, but his voice rose with incredulity.

    We don’t like to use that word. But when undue influence is exerted over the vulnerable, intervention may be required to help the victim see the situation clearly.

    So I’m exerting undue influence. For what purpose?

    Money, obviously. That’s what you always want, isn’t it, Walsh?

    "If you are implying that I’m charging Olivia for my time, her account is closed. She did hire me to help investigate the deaths of two of her parents’ alleged victims. But we completed that inquiry successfully. In fact, I’m paying Olivia now, as a research assistant and investigator."

    My associate said you were clever, Mr. Walsh, and he’s correct. Yes, you’re paying her . . . to deflect suspicion and to maintain an excuse for ongoing contact, while you continue to pursue the real prize.

    Which would be?

    A five-million-dollar trust fund. Which comes due when she turns twenty-five. A few months from now.

    Gabriel grunted.

    After at least five seconds of silence, the man said, You aren’t even going to deny it?

    To whom? You’re hired help. I don’t need to convince you of anything. The very thought that anyone—however skilled a manipulator—could persuade Olivia to part with her fortune is ridiculous.

    I offered to pay for the shirt, I called. But not the car. The car wasn’t my fault, and it’s insured.

    See? Gabriel said. I would also point out that, given how handily she disarmed your colleague, you might be mistaken about her vulnerability. I will forgive you for that, based on your very short acquaintance with her. James Morgan has no such excuse. Beyond the fact that he’s an idiot.

    The man was silent.

    I have noticed, Gabriel said, that despite your unwillingness to name him as your client, you haven’t denied that he is.

    According to the contract, I cannot identify the man who hired us. There is no provision against acknowledging it, though. He’s very concerned about his fiancée—

    I’m not his fiancée, I called.

    The engagement ended two months ago, Gabriel said.

    Which does not keep him from being concerned.

    Get proof, I called.

    Of his concern? the man said.

    Of his involvement, Gabriel said. Prove to me that James Morgan is indeed your client and I will release you.

    The man warned Gabriel that he was reaching for his phone. He passed it over. Gabriel read the screen and then waved me over to have a look.

    It was an e-mail exchange with James. A little cloak-and-dagger in the wording, but the intent was clear. These men were to take me, by force, and persuade me that Gabriel Walsh was a very, very bad man. I forwarded it to both of us.

    Gabriel took his foot off the man’s chest. We retrieved the gun from under the car. Or, I should say, I retrieved it. Gabriel wouldn’t fit, which I deemed a poor excuse. We left the so-called deprogrammer tending to his partner’s wounds.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Gabriel didn’t say a word on the walk back to the elevator, on the ride up, or even once we got through his door. I shot the bolt. At the click, he turned, as if startled, and then nodded.

    He changed his shirt, walked to the window and stood there, fingers drumming against his leg. Then he came my way so fast I stepped aside. He unlocked the door and walked out.

    He was in the elevator by the time I caught up. The doors were about a hand’s breadth from shutting before he stopped them and leaned out.

    You need to come with me, he said.

    I’m trying to.

    We returned to the parking garage. Our attackers were gone. Gabriel walked to his space and stood staring at my VW.

    Um, yeah, I said. Your car was totaled, remember? That’s why you need me. Unless you plan to take a cab.

    He grunted. Letting someone else drive was a relinquishing of control he couldn’t abide with anyone except me and his aunt Rose.

    May I have your keys? he asked.

    I’m going with you.

    Of course you are. I’m not leaving you alone after that. But I’d like to drive.

    I passed them over. We got into my vehicle—an older-model Jetta that I could justify borrowing from my dad’s garage, even if it wasn’t quite up to my standards for speed and handling.

    Gabriel peeled out of the garage. Or he attempted to. It’s a diesel, and when he hit the gas, he got a whine from the engine instead of a growl.

    Sorry, I said. If we were closer to the north end, we could swing by my parents’ place and pick up the Maserati.

    "If I thought you’d keep the Maserati, I would agree to the detour. You insist on depriving yourself—"

    He clipped off the rant so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had nipped his tongue.

    I checked my phone. I had a good-morning text from my boyfriend, Ricky, who was in Miami on business. That business . . . well, I didn’t know and didn’t ask.

    I’d met Ricky through Gabriel, whose main clients are the Satan’s Saints. It’s a biker gang—sorry, motorcycle club. Ricky’s dad runs it, and Ricky is a member. He’s also an MBA student at the University of Chicago, not as an escape from the life, but so he’ll be better prepared to take over when his father retires. I’d called Ricky last night to give him a heads-up on the accident.

    I texted him back and when I looked up, we were in the city core.

    Where are we going? I said.

    To see James.

    You’re going to confront him at his office? I struggled to keep my tone even.

    Yes.

    That is . . . I lost the battle and twisted to face him. Are you out of your mind?

    No.

    I’m serious.

    So am I.

    I know you’re upset—

    Upset does not begin to cover it. Each word was razor-edged.

    He insulted you, I said. I get that.

    I could not care less about an insult. His ice-blue eyes swung my way. This is about sending men to kidnap you at gunpoint.

    If you confront him in public—

    This requires more than a tersely worded e-mail or an angry phone call, Olivia. If I don’t confront him publicly, he will skew the story to paint me as the aggressor. I made that mistake once. I won’t do it again.

    Last week, Gabriel had confronted James at his house after James had sent me a private investigator’s dossier on every illegal and unethical thing Gabriel had ever been accused of doing. Gabriel had taken that dossier and systematically sorted it into truth, lies, and damn lies. He didn’t care; neither did I. What set Gabriel off was the call James made afterward, to inform him that the dossier was only the first strike, and he wouldn’t stop harassing me until I came back to him. Gabriel had briefly ended up in jail charged with assault after James’s mother had called the cops.

    We stopped for a red light. When I looked up, I saw a bird sitting on the signal box.

    Gabriel?

    Hmm.

    What kind of bird do you see there? I pointed.

    A robin.

    I see a magpie.

    He didn’t say there shouldn’t be magpies in Chicago. We both knew that, just as we knew there wasn’t really one sitting on that box.

    One for sorrow, I said. That means you’re making a mistake.

    Are you sure?

    If you’re implying that I’d make up an omen—

    I’m saying I don’t agree it has anything to do with me visiting James. You’ve had a hellish twenty-four hours. First you find out that Cainsville is populated by fae. Then you have visions and a fever. Quickly followed by Macy Shaw trying to kill us. An hour ago, you had a gun put to your head. He waved at the bird. One for sorrow.

    He knew that wasn’t how it worked. Omens aren’t retroactive. Yet he drove through the intersection and refused to spare me even a sidelong glance. He’d made up his mind, and no mere omen would stop him.

    —

    Of all the problems that came with the revelation about my notorious birth parents, the most bothersome was the media attention. I’d been a delicious story in a slow news week. And I continued to entertain. Oh, look, she dumped James Morgan. Oh, look, she’s hanging around with Gabriel Walsh. No, wait, she’s dating a biker. I was the Lindsay Lohan of the debutante set.

    In the lobby of James’s office building, I felt the stares and I heard the whispers. His employees had known me before the media firestorm. To them, I wasn’t just the daughter of two convicted killers—I was the stone bitch who’d cut the heart from a really nice guy.

    When we got on the elevator and Gabriel said, Which floor? I hesitated. He turned to the young man beside him and said, James Morgan’s office?

    The guy pressed the button.

    The elevator cleared out before the top floor. As I watched the last numbers pass, I turned to Gabriel.

    Can I handle this? I asked. Having you speak for me isn’t going to help.

    After a moment’s thought, Gabriel nodded. Then the elevator doors opened and we stepped off.

    CHAPTER THREE

    While the top floor is reserved for his company’s executives, James likes to maintain a non-corporate feel, with open areas where people can congregate. That’s where we found him, standing at the espresso machine, laughing at something one of his employees had said.

    When I saw him, I felt as if I’d woken from a nightmare. The encounter with the deprogrammers was so ludicrous it couldn’t be anything but a figment of my overworked imagination. This was the James I knew, making coffee for himself and those gathered around him. Down-to-earth, easygoing, always helpful and considerate.

    When James noticed me, he smiled, eyes crinkling as he turned toward me, as if thinking, Huh, that deprogramming stuff works fast. Then he spotted Gabriel, and I saw exactly what Gabriel must—something twisted and ugly simmering behind James’s eyes. No, not something. Obsession.

    I take it Palmer didn’t tell you he screwed up, I said.

    Palmer? James looked from Gabriel to me. I have no idea what this is about, but we should talk in my office.

    Sorry, I said. But if we do this in private, this time it might be me who ends up in a jail cell on charges of trespassing and assault. You may know Palmer by another name, but that seems to be the one he used in his e-mail exchange with you. I stepped toward him. I really don’t appreciate being held at gunpoint.

    Gunpoint? Is this about last night? If you think I had anything to do with that—

    I mean this morning. Yep, it happened again, and this time you had everything to do with it. Palmer confirmed you’re his client, James. I took out my phone. Let me forward you the e-mail where you discussed terms with him in case you’ve lost it.

    "E-mail . . . ? I’m completely lost here, Olivia, but if you have an e-mail that appears to come from me, someone has set up a dummy account."

    It’s your personal address.

    Then it’s been hacked or spoofed. Yes, send it to me, and I’ll have my technicians prove that.

    I’m sure they will, Gabriel murmured behind me.

    Is anyone talking to you? James snapped, and when he did, several employees who’d been wandering off looked over. This didn’t sound like their boss; it sounded like a peevish little boy.

    Whatever this is, Walsh, James said, it’s none of your business.

    Anytime you hire someone to put a gun to Olivia’s head and kidnap her, I’ll make that my business.

    James turned to me. Why the hell would I hire someone to kidnap you?

    Because, apparently, I’m being brainwashed by . . . I jerked my thumb toward Gabriel.

    Well, that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since you got here. I wouldn’t call it brainwashing, but it’s clearly something, and obviously someone else is as concerned as I am about it.

    And hacked your e-mail to hire people to ‘deprogram’ me? Who would do that?

    James paused, mental wheels turning. Then he looked straight at Gabriel. Only one person.

    Yes, Gabriel said dryly. I hired men to waylay us in my parking garage.

    I’m sure you’d use whatever scenario would allow you to play the white knight.

    "Actually, Olivia extricated herself from the situation. But your choice of wording is interesting, given that the men who attacked us used a similar phrase."

    We know what you did, James, I said. We have proof. Back off. Now.

    Or else? James said.

    I think we’re civilized enough to avoid threats.

    But if you’d like one . . . Gabriel said, his voice a purring rumble. I’d be happy to oblige.

    James stepped in front of Gabriel. When he saw he had to look up, he inched back, seemed to realize that looked bad, too, and stood his ground.

    I have no intention of abandoning Olivia, James said. "So tell me—tell everyone here—what you plan to do about that."

    Change your mind.

    Gabriel’s voice was low, almost soft, but the look in his eyes was bone-chilling. James took another step back and caught himself again.

    "You will leave her alone, Gabriel said. One way or another."

    That sounds like a death threat, Walsh.

    Then you lack imagination.

    With that, it was time to walk away. I headed for the elevator. Gabriel followed.

    —

    I took the driver’s seat this time. Gabriel relinquished the keys without a word.

    I’m going to get a restraining order, I said as we drove away. Yes, having worked in a women’s shelter, I know they aren’t worth the paper they’re written on, but I need to establish a record of harassment.

    When he said nothing for two blocks, I asked, You don’t think I should?

    I agree that a record is wise. I’m just not certain I can help you obtain one.

    No problem. I’ll do it myself.

    I don’t mean . . . He cleared his throat. No matter how you obtain it, your connection with me will . . . I’ve used restraining orders in the past to establish a record of harassment against a client. Except in those cases . . .

    Your clients weren’t actually being harassed.

    I’ll fix this, Olivia.

    It’s not really your problem to fix, I said softly.

    Actually, it is. I’m the one who . . . made that deal with him.

    To protect me and get us back together again. Gabriel had accepted money from James, to look after me and help me reconcile with him.

    It wasn’t— Silence. Then, Whatever my intentions, it’s clear that he interpreted our arrangement to mean reconciliation was a strong possibility. You said it was over, and I muddied the waters. I miscalculated.

    Two words. Simple enough. I miscalculated. But they weren’t simple at all. They were an admission of fallibility, and that didn’t come easy for Gabriel.

    I’ll fix this, he said. I promise.

    —

    As we drove to the dealership, Gabriel got a call. It was Pamela Larsen, my birth mother, phoning from prison. He told me it was her, but he didn’t answer.

    My relationship with Pamela was strained. When I’d discovered I could see omens, I’d remembered her teaching me all those superstitious ditties as a child. So I’d gone to her for answers. She’d brushed it off as nonsense passed along by a young and foolish mother trying to entertain her baby. I’d refused to see her until she agreed to talk.

    She was trying to reach me through Gabriel because he was her lawyer. She’d hired him a few years ago to win her an appeal. He’d failed to do so. As much as she hated him—and hated me having any association with him—she hadn’t hesitated to hire him back for her latest appeal. Begging him to be allowed to see me would be difficult for her. I regretted that it had come to that. Yet I didn’t regret it enough to visit. If she wasn’t going to give me answers, I’d try Todd. Which was turning out to be a lot more complicated—logistically and emotionally—than I could have imagined.

    Todd Larsen was a convicted serial killer. A monster. My memories of him should surely be equally monstrous. Except the ones I’d dredged up were bright and warm. By all accounts, I’d adored my father, and he’d adored me. When I’d been unable to get in to see him—we still weren’t sure why—he’d sent that letter, and it was everything I could have wanted . . . and everything I didn’t want.

    I’d had a dad. Arthur Jones. An amazing father I lost to a heart attack a year ago. And now I had Todd, who, from that letter, had been just as good a father. I was struggling to reconcile that. I’d have to face him. I would, when I got the chance. I just hoped I could handle it.

    CHAPTER FOUR

    At the car dealership, Gabriel set me loose and said, Find me something. I tried to get his opinion, but he was having none of that. I don’t know if he was too distracted or he honestly didn’t give a damn, but he seemed serious, so I had fun.

    The new Jag I chose wasn’t that different from his old one. The style suited him, and I was loath to change that. I started rhyming off options.

    I usually just pick one from the lot, Gabriel said.

    That’s your first mistake.

    The salesman cleared his throat. I can offer a discount on the lot models. We’ll be starting the new year soon.

    How much of a discount?

    I can’t say exactly, but if you come inside, we can negotiate—

    Ballpark it for me, I said.

    Maybe a thousand dollars.

    Not worth it.

    Gabriel’s lips twitched in amusement. Whatever she says.

    I listed the options I wanted and then said, Black, inside and out. He’ll need it by next week.

    That’s not poss—

    I’ve picked common options and colors. You’ll find one on a lot somewhere. Have it here next week, and in the meantime . . . I waved at their stock. He’ll borrow one of those.

    We can arrange a loaner, but first we need to settle financing.

    It’s a cash sale, Gabriel said.

    Despite the cool June morning, the guy began visibly sweating. I’ll blame it on the fact that a big guy in a suit wanted to pay cash for a new Jag, suggesting . . . well, it suggested he might not really be a lawyer.

    I know your previous car is a write-off, the salesman said. But it will take time to get the insurance money.

    It’s a cash sale regardless. Gabriel lowered his shades, fixing the man with a cool stare. Is that a problem?

    N-no. Of course not. Come inside, and we’ll do the paperwork.

    —

    The dealership visit lifted Gabriel’s mood immensely. I think my handling of the situation amused him. While I’d been following in the career footsteps of my philanthropist mother, I really was Daddy’s girl. My father had turned the family business—the Mills & Jones department store—back into the Chicago landmark it’d been in the fifties, and he hadn’t done that by letting salespeople tell him he couldn’t get stock in until next month.

    We had an hour before our appointment with Chandler, so Gabriel decided to swing by the office. It’s a Garfield Park greystone, a beautiful building but not exactly the prestigious address you’d expect from a guy who pays cash for a six-figure car. It is relatively close to the Cook County jail. Given Gabriel’s clientele, that may be the main attraction.

    We parked my car and his rental Jag in the narrow lane between buildings. I was telling him a story as we walked inside.

    My poor mother was on the verge of cardiac arrest, I said. Here we are, at this thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner, and Dad’s wrangling exclusive rights for a line of designer handbags from another guest at our table. He doesn’t see the problem because, to him, if you’re going to shell out that kind of money, you’d damned well better get the chance to schmooze someone who can give you exclusive rights to his handbag line.

    I would agree, Gabriel said, opening the office door for me.

    So my dad says . . .

    I trailed off as I saw three people in the reception area. One was expected—Lydia, Gabriel’s executive assistant, a trim woman in her late sixties who looked as if she had a yoga mat and green-goo health shake behind her desk and could throw a would-be mugger over her shoulder.

    In front of her stood an elderly couple. Handsome and well-dressed, but not overly so. They looked like retired professors—perfectly pleasant people. Except they weren’t any of that. Not professors. Not elderly. Not particularly pleasant. Not people, either.

    Ida and Walter Clark were Tylwyth Teg. Welsh fae. Fairies, though they didn’t like that word. With others of their kind, they’d founded Cainsville centuries ago and interbred with select humans. That’s how a population survives when the other outnumber them. Not everyone in Cainsville had fae blood, but enough did for Tylwyth Teg to work their compulsions and charms and keep us from asking questions. Now I knew better, which is why I’d left Cainsville—and the resident fae—behind.

    Lydia rose from her desk. I was just telling the Clarks here that you weren’t expected at the office today, Mr. Walsh. I presume you’re just stopping by?

    I am, but I suspect I’m not the one they came to see.

    Actually, we would like to speak to you as well as Olivia, Ida said. We won’t keep you long.

    Gabriel visibly struggled to refuse. It shouldn’t have been difficult, all things considered, but we both had fae blood and that inbred compulsion demanded we listen to them.

    He glanced at me. I nodded, and he turned to Lydia. Olivia didn’t get her mocha this morning. Could I impose on you . . . ?

    I’ll go grab one. She stood. When I return, though, there’s a case we need to discuss before you leave for your appointment. Which was her way of putting the Clarks on notice that this meeting would indeed be short.

    As soon as the door closed behind Lydia, Walter said, We understand that you’re upset, Olivia.

    "Mmm, I’m not sure upset is the right word. I perched on Lydia’s desk. I mean, I completely understand why you wouldn’t tell me what you were. What do you say? ‘Hello, I’m a fairy.’ Sorry, fae, right?"

    Actually, we prefer Tylwyth Teg, Ida said. "You are upset."

    "No, upset is what I’d get from learning that people I trusted aren’t what they seem to be. Pissed off is what I get when my life is in danger, on account of said people not telling me what the hell is going on. Cainsville welcomes me with open arms and I think, ‘Huh, that’s really nice,’ only to discover the town is run by supernatural beings. The reason they’re being so nice to me? Well, I haven’t quite figured that all out yet, but I know I sure as hell can’t trust any explanation you give, so I’ll keep digging. I know my family is connected to Cainsville, on Pamela’s side. I know you two had something to do with getting me adopted by the Taylor-Joneses and making me disappear from the system—and from my birth parents. I know that’s all somehow connected to my parents’ alleged crimes. And I know that, apparently, I’m very, very special."

    "You are special, Olivia," Ida said.

    I don’t want to be. It is, as Gabriel would say, highly inconvenient. I’ve got you trying to woo me, and the Wild Hunt—sorry, the Cwn Annwn—trying to woo me, and it’s like I’m the top NFL draft pick when I didn’t even realize I knew how to play football. I’m being waylaid everywhere—

    That’s the Cwn Annwn, not us.

    No? I looked around Gabriel’s lobby. Huh. This certainly feels like waylaying.

    Ida stepped toward me. Olivia, I can assure you that we have your best interests in mind. The Cwn Annwn do not. Stay away from us if you must, but stay away from them, too.

    And end your association with the Gallagher boy, Walter

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