Kelley Armstrong - No Humans Involved

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From Publishers Weekly
In Armstrong's assured seventh Otherworld paranormal romance, her first in hardcover (after Broken), pretty Jaime Vegas, a 44-year-old necromancer who can reanimate the dead, faces her biggest career challenge yet-freeing the trapped ghosts of six murdered children. Thankfully, Jeremy Danvers, Jaime's hunky and very Alpha werewolf boyfriend, tags along for this hair-raising ride. Jaime, who has made a living onstage and off by her ghost-whispering skills, is in L.A. as one of three celebrity mediums participating in Death of Innocence, a TV special that hopes "to raise the ghost of Marilyn Monroe," but instead uncovers a serial-killing cult intent on man-made black magic. Seeking justice for the lost children and punishing the dark arts practitioners don't prevent Jaime and Jeremy from finding time for love. Armstrong deftly juggles such creatures as werewolves, witches, demons and ghosts with real-life issues. The only disappointment? Marilyn's ghost never shows.
From Booklist
Fortysomething Jaime Vegas is a sexy, redheaded celebrity medium on the threshold of a spiritualist's dream: her own TV show. She is one of three professional psychics brought to a haunted site for a reality TV show and charged with raising the ghost of Marilyn Monroe. Obviously, this is Jaime's shot at stardom. Her costars are drawling, up-and-coming starlet medium Angelique and UK satanic specialist Bradford Grady, and watching the three one-up each other as they jockey for prime position, even during a warm-up seance, is good show-biz comedy. Jaime knows and uses a psychic's two primary tools, knowledge (prior facts) and statistical probability, but everything depends on her authentic, natural necromantic gifts. But when she finds spirits in the site's garden with whom she cannot commune despite her superpowerful silver ring, she fears she's out of her league (she's not wrong) and flies to Portland for help. Paranormal and show-business power struggles make for hard-to-put-down entertainment.

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Don frowned at me.

Murray's look said he didn't understand my plea any better than Don. "But the spell. We can't get out."

Brendan was already racing across the room. When he reached the door, he stopped short, as if hitting a physical barrier. Then he poked his fingers into the inch-wide gap. They passed through. He grinned.

"Good," I said. "Get out there and look for a ghost. A woman. My age. Long dark hair. Her name's Eve. Show her where I am."

As I spoke, Brendan shoved his shoulder against the crack, but it stopped, as if the breach in the spell was only as wide as that gap. He kept pushing. Murray strode over to help.

"She's stalling," Tina said. "Cast the spell, Don. At least it'll shut her up."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of ash.

Again, my gaze rose to the light. Then it shifted to that high shelf and stopped on a stuffed bat perched beside a legless dog. In my mind, I saw an image of the bird I'd accidentally raised in the garden.

But I couldn't. Not without tools. Not without time to prepare. Not without-

Don lifted his hand to his mouth, ash on his outstretched palm. He inhaled.

"Wait!" I said. "You want magic? I can give you the most powerful magic of all."

"She'll say anything-" Tina began.

"The power to raise the dead. I can do that."

"Really?" Tina's overplucked brows arched. "That'll come in handy in a few minutes… assuming you can do it to yourself."

She motioned for Don to continue with the spell, but he'd lowered his hand. The other men watched me. Seeing their expressions, I bit back a burst of hysterical laughter.

Communicating with the dead wasn't enough to sway their intentions. But to raise the dead? To play God? No matter how strongly logic told them it couldn't be done, they couldn't help hoping.

"It's a trick," Tina snapped. "Can't you see that? Now she'll tell us she needs a body, so we'll need to take her outside-"

"No, you won't." I waved at the ceiling. "Plenty of bodies here."

"And I suppose you want us to take one down, meaning we have to find a ladder, bring it back, give your friend time to recover-"

"I'll raise the bat. It has wings, right?" I flashed my best showbiz smile. "No need to be carried down when you can fly."

Even before the men agreed, I knew they would. Why not? In return for a few minutes' forbearance, I offered the possibility of a miracle. Who could refuse that?

Are you nuts ? my brain screamed. Have you forgotten the minor fact that you can't do this without your equipment ?

But I could try. At the very least, I'd stall them for a while. Maybe Hope would wake. Or Jeremy would find my trail.

And if that's all I hope to do, that's all I'd accomplish. Forget stalling. My only option-the only one I'd accept-was success.

Just yesterday, raising Rachel Skye, I'd theorized that the power lay, not with the instruments, but within me. If I truly believed that, then it was time to put it to the test. Under the worst possible circumstances, but maybe that was just what I needed. Last year, in Toronto with the werewolves, I'd controlled zombies raised by someone else-a feat I'd said was impossible. But when I saw Elena's life at stake, I'd found the will and the power to do it.

Now there was another life at stake. Mine. And, for once, I was going to be the one to save it.

I closed my eyes and recited the incantation to call the dead back to their nearby bodies. In my mind, I pictured the ritual setup, envisioned myself kneeling before the symbols.

When the chant was finished, I didn't open my eyes to see whether it worked. Didn't even take a breath. Just repeated it. Then repeated it. Then-

"Oh, my God."

The reaction I'd been waiting for. I looked up to see the bat still perched there, motionless. But on an adjacent shelf, the crow's wing twitched.

"It's a trick," Tina sneered. "Even I can do that-like making a pencil levitate."

"Rawr!"

The crow had managed to push itself upright. Its head wobbled, as if its neck was broken. It threw back its head and let out another strangled caw.

"Mother of God," one of the men breathed.

Even Tina stared. Then she wheeled on me. "It's a trick. Somehow-"

A dog yipped. The terrier. Its head whipped from side to side, ears flapping, eyes wild as it tried to stand on legs it no longer had. I fought the urge to release it, sent up a silent apology, and started the invocation again.

The dog convulsed and twisted, its cries turned shrill with panic. On the adjoining shelf, the crow flapped its wings, its head still lolling, beak snapping.

A shriek. Four sets of eyes turned to see a raccoon dragging itself toward the edge…

"Oh, God, no," someone said. "Not that. It isn't-"

The raccoon toppled from the shelf as one of the men dove out of the way. It hit with a bone-crunching thud. For a moment, I blinked, certain I'd misidentified the creature. It was too small to be a-

The beast pulled itself onto its front legs, and I realized it was indeed a raccoon. Half of one. The rear quarters had been removed and a plastic shield had been affixed to the severed end, like an anatomy display.

The raccoon gnashed its teeth and rolled back onto its torso, claws waving as it struggled to get up. Above it, the dog twisted, snapping and snarling, frenzied now.

"Oh, God, what have you done?" one of the men breathed.

"Why, I've brought the dead back to life. I've performed a miracle."

The raccoon fell forward and started pulling itself along on its front legs. It snarled at Tina. When she fell back with a scream, it advanced on Don. He backpedaled out of the way.

"M-miracle?" Don said. "Th-this is an abomination. Stop it right now."

"Stop?" I smiled. "I'm just getting started."

I looked across their faces. In their terror, I saw my true power. The darkest power. The greatest power.

I closed my eyes and shouted the invocation, calling the dead back to their bodies. Someone yelled for Don to cast the weakening spell. Fingers wrapped around my arm. As I yanked away, my attacker reeled backward, grip loosening.

A black blur flashed over his head. The crow, swooping. Then another blur and a high-pitched shriek as the bat flew into Tina. She screamed, arms flailing.

"Kill it! Someone kill it! Kill all of them!"

"Oh, you've already done that," I said. "Once they pass over, they're mine, and you can't do a damn thing about it. Go ahead. Swat that bat. Throw it into the wall if you'd like. You can't kill it. It's already dead."

Another scream, this time from one of the men as the raccoon's teeth sank into his leg. As he shook it, the plastic plate flew off and the raccoon's preserved innards slid out. The man screamed louder, gaze riveted on the mangled beast.

"You wanted magic!" I said. "You killed for it. Well, here's magic. The most powerful kind there is."

The crow swooped past me and flew into Don, who let out a shriek.

"Isn't it everything you imagined?" I yelled to be heard over the din. "And just think. When you die, I can do this to you. Bring your mangled, rotting corpse back to life, with you in it, stuck there for eternity."

I shouted the incantation again. A body tumbled from the shelf. Then another, the air rent with yowls and screeches and screams. I ran for the door. It was half-open now, as if someone had tried to make a break for it. A quick head count as I wheeled proved no one had escaped.

I yanked open the door, spun around and slammed it shut. A body hit the other side. I threw myself against the door, fingers flying to the lock. One twist and it was closed.

My gaze snagged on the light switch for the room. I flicked it off.

JUDGMENT

I LOOKED AROUND FOR HOPE, but she was nowhere to be seen. I ran through the TV room. Still no sign of her. How far could they have taken her?

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