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Bring It On
Laura Anne Gilman
Nobody said juggling a career and a relationship would be easy…Wren Valere used to have a simple life. Her partner Sergei would negotiate the terms of the Retrieval–all right, the theft–and she would use her magical Talent to carry it out. Paycheck deposited, on to the next job. Now? Her relationship with Sergei is even more complicated (sex will do that).Her fellow lonejacks are trying to organize against the Mage's Council. The nonhuman population of Manhattan is getting fed up with being ignored and abused. And the Council? Well, they have an agenda of their own, and it's not one the lonejacks are going to like.When it comes down to choosing sides, the first rule of the lonejack credo is "Don't get involved." But when friends are in danger, and the city you love is at risk, sometimes getting into the thick of things is all you can do….
Praise for the Retrievers novels of
laura anne gilman
Staying Dead
“An entertaining, fast-paced thriller set in a world where cell phones and computers exist uneasily with magic and a couple of engaging and highly talented rogues solve crimes while trying not to commit too many of their own.”
—Locus
“An exciting, fast-paced, unpredictable story that never lets up until the very end…I highly recommend this book to fans of urban fantasy, especially [the works of] Jim Butcher, Charlaine Harris, Kim Harrison or Laurell K. Hamilton.”
—SF Site
Curse the Dark
“Gilman has managed the nearly impossible here: a cleverly written and well-balanced fantasy with a strong romantic element that doesn’t overpower the main plot.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews [4 1/2 stars]
“With an atmosphere reminiscent of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code and Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose by way of Sam Spade, Gilman’s second Wren Valere adventure…features fast-paced action, wisecracking dialog, and a pair of strong, appealing heroes.”
—Library Journal
Bring It On
“Fans of Charlaine Harris, Kelley Armstrong and Kim Harrison will find Bring It On a very special treat. The author is an expert worldbuilder and creates characters that are easy to care about.”
—Affaire de Coeur [5 stars]
“Gilman has outdone herself…The revelations are moving, the action is fantastic and the ending is something that makes you wonder what will happen next.”
—In the Library Reviews
Burning Bridges
“Wren’s can-do magic is highly appealing.”
—Publishers Weekly
“This fourth book in Gilman’s engaging series delivers…Wren and Sergei’s relationship, as usual, is wonderfully written. As their relationship moves in an unexpected direction, it makes perfect sense—and leaves the reader on the edge of her seat for the next book.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews [4 stars]
“I’ve been saying it all along, and I’ll say it again, this is an excellent series, well worth picking up, and I haven’t been let down yet.”
—Green Man Review
“Valere is a tough, resourceful heroine, a would-be loner who cares too much to truly walk alone. A strong addition to urban fantasy collections.”
—Library Journal
Free Fall
“An intelligent and utterly gripping fantasy thriller, by far the best of the Retrievers series to date.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Compulsively readable, fast-paced and deadly serious…Wren continues to be an engaging and likable protagonist, one the reader can root for with all her heart.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
Bring It On
laura anne gilman
Dear Reader,
Some people say that New York City is a magical place. They’re right. Some people also say that magic died in the modern age. They’re wrong….
And, with that, a Public Service Announcement: People have asked me if it’s possible to use the places and names in the Retrievers series as a map for visitors to Manhattan. You can, but I wouldn’t advise it, as the contents tend to shift during reading. More to the point, the West Village, where Wren lives, is merely odd in fiction: in reality it’s a neighborhood of strange turns and three-cornered buildings, where West 10th Street intersects with West 4th…and you never know who—or what—you may meet on any given corner!
So venture forward and have fun…but turn the page—and corners—carefully!
And don’t miss Wren’s other adventures in Staying Dead, Curse the Dark, Burning Bridges and Free Fall, available now, and Blood from Stone, coming in May 2009.
Laura Anne Gilman
For my Muse.
Without whom I might sleep better at night,
but not have such interesting dreams.
Acknowledgments
Again, a shout out to my editor, Matrice, and my agent, Jenn, who are lovely, patient, kind, considerate, patient…Did I say patient?
Deb Grabien, who is a goddess—quite mad, of course, but all the best goddesses are.
And to my “baby bro” Keith, who was there, every time.
Bring It On
No one gets to miss the storm of
What will be
Just holding on for the ride…
—Indigo Girls, “The Wood Song”
Contents
Prologue
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
Prologue
Darkness. Not merely night, which mankind had banished ages ago with the first, stuttering campfire, but an absolute, terrifying dark. No moon sailed, no stars glittered. No light reached into the cold heart and set the blood to pumping again.
“Do so swear to it.” One voice. Confident. Neither demanding nor coercing, not inviting or seducing. It did not echo in the darkness but rather settled into the corners, softening the edges, herding those within hearing distance into a tighter group, although few of them did more than shuffle in place.
“I do so swear.” More than one voice, less than a dozen. Muted, one or two uncertain, but all with an underlying note of—determination? Fear?—carrying them forward. Like most initiations, it was less about wanting to belong, and more about the fear of being left behind—or left out.
“Then I hereby declare the overwrought and pretentious portion of this meeting to be concluded.”
Faint, relieved laughter, and the lights flickered and came up, revealing an open courtyard surrounded on three sides by thick stone walls, the center one with a simple doorway set into it. Directly opposite it, similar stones framed an open window running the length of the wall, showcasing what, in daylight, would have been an impressive view. Tonight, the river below glimmered darkly, black against black.
“Please, come inside and join us.” The woman who had spoken last came forward. A tiny, elegant silver-haired woman, immaculately dressed in a gray wool suit and sensible heels, she made a welcoming gesture that included everyone. Turning with the assumption that they would all follow her, she walked through the door in the far wall. The stones underfoot were smoothed with generations of use, and as the others followed, expensive suits and elegant dresses mingling in a casual dance of friendly power, one might think it was the opening moves of an ordinary cocktail party, lacking only the waiters passing trays of canapés and champagne.
As they left the courtyard, something sparked in the distance, over the river flowing below them. Thunder, or an electrical fire on the other side, or something else. One of the participants turned to look, barely a twitch in the middle of conversation, and frowned, as though suddenly reminded of a minor chore left undone.
“Has any of this been discussed with the Others?” he asked, the capitalization plain in his tone.
“Those avenues were explored.” The response was smooth, cool, conciliatory.
“Indeed?” He sounded surprised. “I had heard nothing—odd, as my contacts on that side of the river are usually quite vocal about everything.”
That got him some appreciative, and sympathetic, laughter. He went on, warming to the topic. “I would hope that each of those avenues was indeed thoroughly explored, as you say. I would not want to go home and discover that anyone had—”
The knife appeared between heartbeats, turned under the third rib, and shoved in deep.
“We cannot afford to be distracted,” his killer said calmly, as the knife withdrew and disappeared back from wherever it had appeared. “All avenues are closed to us now, save this one.”
The three remaining conversationalists in that group stifled whatever reaction they might have had, and merely nodded, stepping over the body to continue their move into the mansion.
Without seeming to look, other attendees managed to somehow stream around their former fellow initiate, moving past him without hesitation; his body might have been one of the stone columns framing the room for all the attention they gave it. The message, if messy, had been perfectly clear. Accept your status as one of the elite—or lose it, and more.
The body lay on the stones as the courtyard emptied. A moment passed, then another, and the blood pooled, congealing even as more flowed from the wound. Another woman came out, this one dressed in a simple scarlet dress that set off her brunette curls to perfection.
“Idiot,” she said to the dying man, not without regret. “You should have known better. They’ll only replace you with someone less prone to asking questions.”
Shaking her head at the stupidity of it all, she placed her hands, palms down, in the air over the body.
“Allow no secrets uncovered, no confidences broken, no vows released, but hold this body to the darkness until time has time to erase the traces.”
The body shimmered with a faint silver glow, then disappeared. In the distance, there was the sound of a faint splash, the kind a fish might make as it leaped into the air and crashed down again. Or a body, slipping deep into the waters, might make as it sank and was carried out into the ocean.
“It’s too late to change course. Too much has already been done.”
The woman went back into the mansion, leaving the courtyard completely empty, even the pool of blood gone as though it had evaporated entirely in the cool autumn air. After a few moments, the lights slowly began to fade out, until only one illuminated the doorway. Soon enough, it too went out.
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