I froze in horror.

Not because of the frightening vampire glaring at me from the end of the street. Nor because of his ugly minions swarming the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. But because of one single realization—I’d run out of bubble gum.

Rats!

I stepped back and drew my nunchucks, their fiery edges whistling through the night air as I swung them around me. They’d been forged with dragon’s breath in the mountains of the dwarves. A tool of unimaginable destruction. A weapon of unequal strength. In other words, they were pretty awesome.

As I held them out before me, I watched as the enemy surrounded me.

Vampires. They were all the same. Pretty little things that brooded in the dark. What a joke. They thought they should rule the world just because they were immortal and had really nice bone structure.

Well, they did. But still.

They were nothing but a bunch of losers, refugees from the Dark Uprising, allowed to exist because the Council of Fae was led by a bunch of wimps.

But that was why I was here.

As an inquisitor of the Order, it was my job to catch the magical creatures who caused havoc and bring them to justice. And none were worse than these guys.

“I know you’re out there,” I yelled out as I made my way down the alley.

A vampire, sharply dressed with long black hair, appeared from the shadows. To the human eye, he looked like any other good-looking club owner with money. To me, however, he was filth.

Frederick the Black—or as I called him, Freddy the Fake—was the leader of the Thorns, a secret sect of vampires who’d been abducting women from the human world for the past two years. Women who, I might add, bore a striking resemblance to me.

No matter what I did, though, I could never catch him. He always seemed to be one step ahead. Tonight, however, that would finally change.

I stared at the woman behind him. She was a striking beauty with long black hair and pale skin. But clearly frightened.

Her body trembled beneath her white nightgown, tears streaming down her cheeks. Yet as disturbing as all this was, it was the brace on her back that drew my attention, a crude metal contraption keeping her shoulders bunched together. I frowned.

“Ah,” Freddy said in a smooth voice. “If it isn’t the Pale Fury herself.”

I grinned despite myself. Since becoming an inquisitor, I’d developed quite the reputation. Criminals trembled at my name while my superiors winced from indigestion. It had earned me the nickname “the Pale Fury,” and as much as I enjoyed that, I knew that he was just trying to distract me. And I wouldn’t let that happen.

“How’s it going, Freddy?” I asked, counting the heads peeking over the edges of the buildings at me. I counted only six, but by the reek of blood in the air, I knew there were more. There were always more.

“Better now that I have you here,” he said in his smooth voice, eyes glowing redder with every step. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

The scent of blood was rich on his breath, even from here, and I could hear the sound of glass cracking beneath his black leather shoes as he stepped closer.

“Release the woman,” I ordered, “and I won’t turn you into a box of matches.”

“Funny,” he said. “But I think not.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “And why’s that?”

“Because I have something more special in store for you.”

He waved a hand, motioning to his army of minions, and the bloodsuckers stirred to life. They rose from the surrounding rooftops like awakened gargoyles and leaped over the edges of the buildings, falling in droves around me. Before I knew it, I was staring down an army of monsters ready for my blood.

But I was no slouch. I was an inquisitor of the Order, for Danu’s sake, a warrior who’d been trained by the monks of Qin at the Temple of Sorrow. Not to mention I’d had a pretty good breakfast. If anyone was going to lay down the law, it was going to be me.

I swung my nunchucks from every angle, blasting the bloodsuckers with the powerful weapon hidden inside them—the tongues of flame, fiery projectiles that could rip through the air like cannonballs. They left the ugly bloodsuckers a gory mess, littering the sky with burning embers. When they were nothing but ash, I glanced back at their master and grinned.

“I see you’ve grown stronger since our last meeting,” he said with a frown.

“What can I say? I like killing vampires.”

He scowled. “In that case, why don’t we make it even?” His eyes glowed red as he readied to sink his teeth into the woman’s neck.

As quickly as I could, I drew a throwing star from my jacket. It caught him in the wrist, breaking his grip on the woman.

“Run!” I screamed.

The woman stumbled away, racing for the sidewalk. But with the contraption on her back, that wasn’t easy. She tripped when she reached the curb, then righted herself as she rushed to her feet.

Freddy glanced back at me with bared fangs. “You dare harm the blood of the dragon?”

“Dragon, schmagon.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re all the same to me. Bloodsuckers in overpriced suits.”

He glanced at his coat and frowned. “But this cost thousands.”

“You were robbed.”

Drawing a sword from behind his back, he sought to punish me for my insolence. The blade whistled through the air as it came for my face. But I dodged every strike, leaning to the side, then spinning around to escape its reach.

When he came at me again, I caught the blade with the chain of my nunchucks, preventing him from slicing my head in two. But the move came at a great price. The impact was tremendous, and my arms were nearly jerked out of their sockets as the force sent me back.

“You see,” he said. “You’re no match for—”

Before he could finish, I roundhoused him across the face, sending him through the air with a busted jaw. When he crashed to the ground, he could only glare up at me in astonishment.

“I’ll never understand why you vampires like to talk so much,” I said, striding toward him.

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. “Try living for a thousand years alone.”

“No, thanks.”

When he rose to his feet, he decided to take another approach to kill me. He held out his hand, dousing his blade with his own blood, and the steel lit up with a frightening glow. The Blood of the Dragon, an ancient spell used by vampires to increase the power of their weapons. It was a powerful charm, deadly. But I had magic of my own.

Taking a deep breath, I called upon the power of my spirit. It burned to life with a frightening surge, and I suddenly felt the serpent tattoo on my shoulder awakening with a shocking start. It slithered over my entire body, infusing my muscles with power and bolstering my aura with a deadly strength that glowed along my skin.

Frederick paused at the sight. “I see you’ve earned your spirit.”

“Scared?” I asked.

He snorted. “Not in the least.”

As he charged at me again, I whacked him across the face with my nunchucks, spinning him around. Then, kicking him in the back, I sent him across the street, where he crashed into a brick building.

I marched over the debris with careful steps, searching through the darkness. When I reached him, he was on the ground with a steel rod poking out of his chest, blood seeping from his mouth.

He fought to hold my gaze. “You think my death means anything? This is just the beginning. You have no idea what’s in store for you or for your precious little fae.”

I hung my nunchucks around my neck as I squatted next to him. “No. But I’m sure my superiors at the Order might want to hear about it.”

I was grabbing his left wrist, ready to cuff him, when I suddenly noticed his right hand reaching across the ground. It was inching toward the piece of wood lying next to him, a splintered four-by-four that looked surprisingly like a stake.

As fast as I could, I reached for it—No!—but in the end, he was faster.

With a grin, he shoved the splintered wood into his chest, digging it in so deep that it ripped through his back. Fire crawled up the length of the wood, and in one frightening moment, his entire body exploded, sending me out of the building and into a pair of trash cans on the sidewalk.

Glaring up from my throne of garbage, I could only watch as smoke lifted from the building.

Why? Why had he killed himself?

In my experience, there were only two reasons a suspect would do that. The first was obvious: he didn’t want to go to the cells. The other, though, was more serious: whatever dismal fate awaited him in the Tower, it would be nothing compared to what his master could conjure.

Now that he was gone, however, I would never know.

I glanced back at the street, searching for the woman. She was on the sidewalk, her arms crossed around her waist.

“It’s okay,” I said, reassuring her with a raised hand. “You’re safe now.”

But my attempt at reassurance didn’t work.

She set off down the street and disappeared around a corner.

Rats! Why do the victims always have to run away?

Not sparing a moment, I set off after her. But she was surprisingly fast and nimble. She leaped over a car, then sprinted up the street, finally vanishing into the entrance of what appeared to be an abandoned church.

Inside, the building was dark and empty. Statues of saints stood along the walls, greeting me with open arms, while paintings of old men in white vestments stared down at me with thoughtful smiles.

I narrowed my eyes, using the power of my spirit to enhance my senses. The woman’s signature was faint, but there. Yet there was something peculiar about it—as if it was being masked somehow.

As I passed through the nave, the decorative torches along the walls erupted in flames.

Dark magic.

It was everywhere.

And there was a lot of it.

Glancing around, I saw her.

She was standing by the altar, appearing just as frightened as she had before. But when she opened her eyes, I saw that they’d changed. No longer were they the soft blue I’d seen earlier. Instead, they were now lavender.

I gasped.

Of all the creatures I knew of, both here and in Grimm World, there was only one being with that type of eye color. A fae. And from what I knew, none had ever been kidnapped before.

I stepped toward her, raising my hand in assurance. But she quickly stepped away, her eyes unexpectedly rolling back in her head. She was then thrust into the air, held in place by some mysterious force.

I rushed to reach her but was repelled by her screams. It was then—to my utter horror—that her body began to snap. First her arms, then her legs, and finally, her back. When it was finally over, she hung in the air like a wet towel.

By Danu’s soul, no!

I hurried up the aisle toward her, but the same terrible force that was holding her in place hurled me across the church, slamming me against the wall where it held me in place.

“Who dares interrupt my work?”

The voice was deep and terrifying. It rumbled through the church like an earthquake, overwhelming my senses with dark magic. When I searched for the source, however, I was stunned to find that it was actually coming out of the fae’s mouth. As if she was … possessed.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

“I am the whisper in the shadow,” it said, “the howl in the wind, the thunder in the storm. But soon all will know me by my true name: the Monarch of Darkness.”

I tried to break free from my restraints, but the power was too strong. It tightened and tightened until I thought my limbs were going to snap. Just when I thought I was about to die, all at once, it stopped.

I fell to my knees as the power released me, and I heard a loud thud from somewhere close by. Glancing up, I saw the fae lying on the floor.

Oh no …

I rose to my feet, hurrying to see if she was okay. When I checked her pulse, though, I could only hang my head in disappointment.

She was dead.

Rats …

Who? Who could’ve done this? I cast my gaze about, searching for clues. There had to be something, some mark, some kind of hint that could lead me in the right direction.

And then I saw it.

There, on the floor, next to the fae’s body. A purple vial.

I snatched it up and examined it closely. It was small, barely the size of my thumb, but I’d seen such a vial before, in a witch’s lair two years earlier. Unfortunately, the witch had been killed before I could find out what it contained. Now, I was back at square one.

I flinched as I felt it: the host of magical signatures approaching from outside.

They’ve found me.

I hid the vial in my jacket, then drew my nunchucks and turned around. If they were going to come at me like this, I’d give them a welcome they’d be sure to remember.

When the doors swung open, a number of men and women dressed in black leather jackets and armed with swords and axes poured into the church. Hunters, every one of them, and lethal.

From their number, a handsome young man with dark hair appeared. He moved toward me with measured steps, a grin stretching across his slim face. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”