Stone Cold Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE

  ALLIE BECKSTROM NOVELS

  Magic for a Price

  “Breathtaking. . . . Monk is a storyteller extraordinaire!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “A must read for those of you who like urban fantasy. . . . Allie Beckstrom, it has been a blast.”

  —Claire’s Book Corner

  “The action comes to a blazing crescendo.”

  —Gizmo’s Reviews

  “Deserves to be savored . . . amazing and incredibly satisfying.”

  —A Book Obsession

  Magic Without Mercy

  “Urban fantasy at its finest . . . every book is packed with action, adventure, humor, battles, romance, drama, and suspense. . . . Clear your calendar. Once you start reading, you won’t want to stop.”

  —Sacramento Book Review

  “Fast-paced, action-packed, and jammed full of all manner of magical mayhem.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “A roller-coaster ride. I simply could not put it down!”

  —A Book Obsession

  Magic on the Line

  “Dark and delicious. . . . Allie is one of urban fantasy’s most entertaining heroines.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Allie Beckstrom is one of the best urban fantasy heroines out there.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “An action-packed series.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Magic on the Hunt

  “An absolutely awesome series.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “Another nonstop adventure.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Amazing urban fantasy . . . this is one series that I can’t get enough of, and I really love how kick butt Allie is.”

  —Seeing Night Book Reviews

  Magic at the Gate

  “The action-packed fifth Allie Beckstrom novel amps up the magical mayhem. . . . Allie’s adventures are gripping and engrossing, with an even, clever mix of humor, love, and brutality.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Devon Monk takes her story to places I couldn’t have dreamed of. Each twist and turn was completely surprising for me. Magic at the Gate truly stands out.”

  —Reading on the Dark Side

  “A spellbinding story that will keep readers on the edge of their seats.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “Suspense is the name of the game. . . . I’m really enjoying this series. . . . Each book brings you a little bit further in to it and leaves you wanting more.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Magic on the Storm

  “The latest Allie Beckstrom urban fantasy is a terrific entry. . . . This is a strong tale.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “First-rate urban fantasy entertainment.”

  —Lurv a la Mode

  Magic in the Shadows

  “Snappy dialogue, a brisk pace, and plenty of magic keep the pages turning to the end. . . . This gritty, original urban fantasy packs a punch.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “This is a wonderful read full of different types of magic, fascinating characters, an intriguing plot. . . . Devon Monk is an excellent storyteller.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Monk sweeps readers up in the drama and dangers of the heroine’s life as it steadily changes and grows . . . an intriguing read with fascinating characters and new magical elements introduced to the mix.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “The writing moves at a fast pace with plenty of exciting action. . . . This series just gets better and better with each new book.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  Magic in the Blood

  “Tight, fast, and vividly drawn, Monk’s second Allison Beckstrom novel features fresh interpretations of the paranormal, strong characters dealing with their share of faults and flaws, and ghoulish plot twists. Fans of Patricia Briggs or Jim Butcher will want to check out this inventive new voice.”

  —Monsters and Critics

  “[A] highly creative series. . . . If you love action, magic, intrigue, good-versus-evil battles, and pure entertainment, you will not want to miss this series.”

  —Manic Readers

  “One heck of a ride through a magical, dangerous Portland . . . imaginative, gritty, sometimes darkly humorous. . . . An un-put-downable book, Magic in the Blood is one fantastic read.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “This series uses a system of rules for magic that is original and seems very realistic. . . . The structure of the story pulled me in right away and kept me reading. There’s action, adventure, fantasy, and even some romance.”

  —CA Reviews

  Magic to the Bone

  “Brilliantly and tightly written . . . will surprise, amuse, amaze, and absorb readers.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Mystery, romance, and magic cobbled together in what amounts to a solid page-turner.”

  —SFFWorld

  “Loved it. Fiendishly original and a stay-up-all-night read. We’re going to be hearing a lot more of Devon Monk.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Patricia Briggs

  “Highly original and compulsively readable. Don’t pick this one up before going to bed unless you want to be up all night!”

  —Jenna Black, author of Rogue Descendant

  “Gritty setting, compelling, fully realized characters, and a frightening system of magic-with-a-price that left me awed. Devon Monk’s writing is addictive, and the only cure is more, more, more.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Rachel Vincent

  BOOKS BY DEVON MONK

  The Broken Magic Series

  Hell Bent

  Stone Cold

  The Allie Beckstrom Series

  Magic to the Bone

  Magic in the Blood

  Magic in the Shadows

  Magic on the Storm

  Magic at the Gate

  Magic on the Hunt

  Magic on the Line

  Magic Without Mercy

  Magic for a Price

  The Age of Steam

  Dead Iron

  Tin Swift

  Cold Copper

  STONE COLD

  A BROKEN MAGIC NOVEL

  Devon Monk

  ROC

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York10014

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin. com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  Copyright © Devon Monk, 2014

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

  ISBN 978-1-101-60888-3

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiousl
y, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Contents

  Praise

  Books by DEVON MONK

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Excerpt from HOUSE IMMORTAL

  For my family

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book never would have seen the light of day if not for the wonderful people who have helped make it happen. Deepest thanks to my agent, Miriam Kriss, and my editor, Anne Sowards, who has an amazing knack for making each book better. A huge thank-you also to the wonderful artist, Mike Heath, and to the many people within Penguin who have gone above and beyond to make this baby shine.

  To my first readers extraordinaire, Dean Woods and Dejsha Knight: Your unflagging enthusiasm and support are appreciated more than you may know. Thank you. A big thanks to my family, one and all, for being there for me, offering encouragement, and sharing in the joy. To my husband, Russ, and sons, Kameron and Konner: Thank you for all your love and support. You are the best part of my life, and I love you.

  And finally, dear readers, this book is for you. Thank you for letting me share these people, this world, and this journey with you.

  Chapter 1

  SHAME

  The door behind Eleanor opened, letting in the March wind, a little rain, and the man I had come here to kill.

  The man was a few years older than the photo I’d seen, black hair shot through with gray, white face gone pudgy behind square bifocals. His name was Stuart, and he carried himself like someone who was irritated with his own skin: stiff movements, coat clutched closed with one hand over his stomach, a scowl hammered into his face.

  Not what I’d expect a murderer to look like, but then, killers came in all shapes and sizes.

  After all, it took one to know one.

  He gave the interior of the diner a quick glance. Didn’t notice me because I looked right at home in a diner that hadn’t passed a health inspection for a decade. And although it might be fun, I didn’t go around introducing myself as “Shame Flynn, Death magic user, loyal friend, troublemaker, and the last guy you want to meet in a dark alley if you’ve done something naughty.”

  He didn’t notice Eleanor either, but that was understandable.

  Eleanor was a ghost.

  She sat across from me, long blond hair flowing with an underwater grace as she moved. Soft features, sweet smile, she was beautiful when alive, and still beautiful when dead. She noticed me noticing him. Tipped her head a bit, narrowed her eyes. What? she mouthed.

  I couldn’t actually hear her because, hello, she was dead. But I’d learned how to read her lips over the last couple of years since she’d been tied to me.

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  She, as usual, didn’t believe me.

  She scanned the diner, saw the guy take the booth just off to our right, looked back at me. Shook her head.

  “Not listening.” I stared at my breakfast so I didn’t have to see her, poked at the waffles. My fork bounced off the hardened whipped cream.

  She shifted through our table like someone forging a stream and floated in front of me, half her body stuck in the table.

  “Jesus. Do you stay up at night thinking of ways to creep me out?”

  No killing, she mouthed. Or maybe it was no kidding. I didn’t say I was good at reading lips.

  “Sorry. I made a promise. I never go back on my word.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. Lately,” I amended. “I never go back on my word lately. That man.” I lowered my voice because seriously, I did not need to draw attention to the crazy guy who was yelling at his waffles. “Has done unspeakable things to people. With magic. For years. He’ll continue doing unspeakable things to people, with or without magic, because it’s kind of his thing. He should have been dead a long, long time ago. I’m just taking care of business.”

  Terric. She pointed at my heart, which wasn’t beating all that well today since it had been a while since I’d killed or consumed. A problem I intended to take care of as soon as the ghost got off her high horse so I could kill the guy.

  I lifted my knife and started sawing at the waffles. “Terric doesn’t need to know what I’m doing. If Victor had wanted him to know about the hit list, he would have given him a copy of it. Plus, Terric’s not really a supporter of vigilante justice. Also, he’s been avoiding me, not the other way around.”

  Not that I could ever get away from him. We were Soul Complements, Death magic, Life magic. Ever since the magical apocalypse a few years ago had made magic a gentle force, it was just us Soul Complements who could break magic into light and dark and make it do the old, horrifying things.

  Well, and the old wonderful things too, but that wasn’t really my department.

  I was the guy who handled the darker side of magic.

  I’d been a damn fine Death magic user back in the day. And now? Well, now I was death.

  While it had its perks, it didn’t come without a hell of a price. I carried death, but if I didn’t let it loose, didn’t let the Death magic in me consume and kill people, plants, or things, then it simply consumed and killed me.

  Victor had been a teacher and a mentor in all things magic. The hit list he’d left for me when he’d died had been a blessing for my death hunger. Even so, I was never going to live to be an old man. If the Death magic in me didn’t kill me, it was highly likely one of the murderers I was tracking would.

  But I was damn sure going to live long enough to take out as many of the killers as I could before my time was up. It was just my way of giving back, and making the world a little more livable.

  Today’s cleanup was on aisle killer-in-the-booth-across from-me. After him, I’d move on to the next on the list. Unless I found Eli Collins.

  Eli was at the top of my own personal list of people who the world would be better without. A psychopath and magic user, he’d tried to kill me, Terric, and my friends. He was still suspect number one in the kidnapping six months ago of our friend Davy Silvers, who’d worked as a Hound to track down illegal magic use.

  And he’d killed the first woman I’d thought I could take a chance on loving—Dessa Leeds.

  I’d been wrong to take that chance, and she had paid the price for my poor judgment.

  The only good thing about not finding Eli was that it gave me time to think about exactly how much agony I was going to put him through while I was killing him. His death was not going to be quick or painless.

  There had been no hint of where he was holed up, no clue of what the government agency he was involved with had been doing since we’d thrown magic and bullets at each other.

  But he couldn’t hide forever. I’d catch his scent, and then he’d be dead.

  A cold slap of pain hit my shoulder and forced my attention back on my surroundings. The grease and noise of the diner fell around me again, the heat of the
air, the cool of the wind coming through the door.

  Eleanor sat across from me, her hand up, ready to slap for attention again. She didn’t need to.

  Another man had stepped into the diner and was scanning it.

  Terric Conley was a bit taller than me, dressed better than me, and had blue eyes and good looks angels would fistfight for. His hair had been white since the day when we were teens and I’d tried to kill him with magic, which was only the beginning of my life of bad choices.

  Taken all together, he was the sort of man women fell for. Unfortunately for women, he was the sort of man who fell for men.

  He was also a hell of a Life magic user and, when we admitted such things, my friend and my Soul Complement.

  He spotted me and started my way.

  “Make room, Boy Scout’s here,” I muttered to Eleanor.

  “Shame.” He stopped at the table, glanced down at my plate of sawed-off waffles, strawberries, and whipped cream. “Breakfast? Why are you eating breakfast here? Now?”

  “Mum kicked me out. What’s wrong with here and now?”

  “For one . . .” He glanced back across the diner, then at me. “This place is a dump. And secondly, you promised you’d go with me to a meeting today.”

  “I promised?”

  “Okay, fine. I promised. Allie and Zayvion want you there. Us there,” he corrected.

  Allie and Zayvion were our friends, and also Soul Complements to each other. Zayvion had run with Terric and me when we were young bucks growing up in the Authority under Victor, and Allie was the daughter of one of the Authority’s richest, and more conniving, members.

  The Authority wasn’t the same after the apocalypse. No need for a secret organization to keep the darker uses of magic secret since magic had been tamed and fully revealed to the public.

  “Busy. Sorry.” I hacked at the waffle with the wholly inadequate knife. Switched to the fork and shoveled waffle and whipped cream into my mouth. Chewed. And chewed. And kept on chewing.

  Tough didn’t describe this mouthful of particleboard. Kevlar had more give. And taste, come to think of it.

  “Just . . . come, Shame,” he said. “Allie wants you there.”

  Ever since Allie had gotten pregnant, she was all sorts of unpredictable in the emotional department. I found it endlessly entertaining. Terric had taken to tiptoeing around her and doing everything she asked of him, and Zayvion had threatened to tie my spine in knots if I riled her up again.