leave you or the ones who own you. Each time he tries to escape the crime
family who raised him, he receives a strike. The smartwatch implanted in his
arm keeps count—three strikes and he’s dead. Jeb already has two. When he gets
his last, unexpected, strike, he knows it’s over. So, a federal agent offering
him a way out of Felicity Harbour—a city as anxious and brutal as everyone
living in it—looks too good to be true. All he has to do is hand over the
access codes to his boss’s technology empire. Except Jeb’s best friend, Booker,
has the codes.
as mob orphans, Jeb and Booker have known each other since they were kids. But
their relationship is complicated. Especially when they’re both more than a
little in love with one another. Jeb has never told Booker that he loves him.
Or, worse, how desperately he wants to leave Felicity Harbour.
Booker betrays him first. Now Jeb must decide which is preferable: the future
ending shortly in a shallow grave, or the future where the only way out means
becoming as brutal as the place he’s trying to leave behind.
from view. He yanked open the taxi door and got out. His first step sank
ankle-deep in a pothole pretending to be a puddle. Cold, dirty water flooded
into his shoe and soaked the hem of his jeans.
breaking against the waterfront laughed at him.
asked for his company, and life was better when Booker was around.
Jeb’s contact lens. There is a problem with the system. Please restart your
device. Cold wind grabbed at Jeb’s nose as it passed—it smelled like misery and
fear, and the corpse of Jeb’s childhood. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed
a hand over his face. Then he restarted his device—the edges of the implanted
screen burned hot against his wrist—and retried the phone call.
even as the connection went through.
He’d gotten another third strike alert that morning. Two in one day was
alarming enough for Jeb to ask Hyun to look at it. It could be nothing. Or it
could be the beginning of the end. Everything combined made him want to lay
down on the wet tarmac and take a nap.
the multiple POVs)
Though his power ranks low and poses no danger, it is why he’s the best
homicide detective in New York. Eddie can smell the emotional content of a
crime, and knowing why is half the battle.
proves too much for him to handle alone, forcing him to team up with an aging
crank and a not-so-doe-eyed newbie. Together they discover that not only is
this murder the work of a brutal serial killer who steals his victims’ powers,
but the victims turn out to be worse than the killer. This murderer is going
after a crime ring that leads all the way up to the mayor and back into the
department itself. As the evidence of corruption piles up, the investigators
realize they can’t trust anyone but each other.
his intended victims, but that uncovers the leaders of the crime ring, and
Eddie’s team finds itself in the mayor’s crosshairs. While it’s unclear if the
mayor wants to recruit them or kill them, it’s quite clear the killer wants
them for accomplices. Eddie’s team has to choose between saving the worst criminals
in the city from a murderer, or trusting a brutal serial killer who will soon
be too powerful to stop.
rain Eddie Nezevitch felt in his lungs and nostrils. The barrier in front of
him shimmered like a slice of the Caribbean turned on its side, and Eddie
couldn’t resist running his hand over the surface; it felt like glass but
rippled like water.
whose power could make important locations hermetic. Even though Eddie’d seen
these seals enough to make them mundane, they remained beautiful. He touched
his badge to the barrier and a hole opened, allowing entry. The seal closed
behind him, leaving the avenue on the other side of the crime scene wavering
the quiet darkness. Eddie found a light switch and shut the door behind him. A
sigh of frustration escaped when he saw the décor. Though gaudy complicated
patterns in the furniture and wallpaper might hide blemishes, they also hid
evidence—a pint of blood spatter might be nearly invisible in a room like this.
people had come and gone in this room for three days without discovering the
body. Something else was at work.
Eddie closed his eyes and mouth, drew in a slow deep breath,
and used his unique gift—his sense of smell. Lavender. Remorse? Lavender laced
with…a soft decay, like mushrooms in the forest. Despair? Neither remorse nor
despair made sense for this crime.