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The Devil's Disease: Shades Below, #2
The Devil's Disease: Shades Below, #2
The Devil's Disease: Shades Below, #2
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The Devil's Disease: Shades Below, #2

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In a city of ghosts, how do you tell who the monsters are?

 

San Francisco's vampires are getting sick... and the city by the Bay is getting bloody.

 

Psychic medium Lena Alan can handle the dead.

 

The undead are another matter.

 

When her brother Cyrus agrees to look into a troubling incident for local vampire Seneca Lynch, Lena is in unfamiliar territory. A mysterious illness is bringing San Francisco's most enduring Sons out of the shadows, leaving them even more bloodthirsty - and dangerous - than usual.

 

Reunited with private detective Jesper MacMillian, Lena is drawn into a part of the demimonde where folklore is real and nightmares are born. She also find herself working with the darkly compelling Seneca Lynch.

 

Is Lynch a man... or a monster?

 

Why is he so determined to bring MacMillian into his world?

 

Both Lena and MacMillian will have to decide just how far into the shadows they're prepared to go... and which lines they are willing to cross.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherLaura Oliva
Release dateApr 3, 2017
ISBN9781386787938
The Devil's Disease: Shades Below, #2
Author

LJK Oliva

L.J.K. OLIVA writes gritty urban fantasy in the Shades Below ShadowVerse. She spent much of her childhood exploring the creeks and storm drain tunnels near her house, and remains fascinated by the places no one notices. After all, that's where magic lives. When not poking the thing that lives in her closet, L.J.K. enjoys exploring the shadows of the San Francisco Bay Area and searching for faeries in every creek within driving distance. She hasn't found any yet, but thinks that's because they're better at hiding than she is at looking. She's still waiting for one to slip up.

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    The Devil's Disease - LJK Oliva

    Chapter 4

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    She didn't know what Durbin said to the uniformed officer outside the club entrance, but a few minutes later, he waved them over.

    We need to hurry, he said as soon as they were within earshot. I told them I'm looking into a possible burglary angle, but if Homicide shows up, we're bounced.

    They passed the blonde crime scene tech on their way inside. Lynch leaned over without breaking stride. O positive is my favorite, he murmured, and gave her a wink. The woman blinked up at him.

    Lena rolled her eyes.

    She followed Durbin down a narrow hallway. Behind her, the off-kilter clack of MacMillian's cane echoed off the walls. Lena quickened her pace. Already, she'd caught a couple of tense glances pass between them. She'd been so eager to start on their new case she hadn't stopped to consider the reality of coming here with them both.

    And there was MacMillian. He was different than she remembered. There was the obvious: he'd traded in his dress shirt and slacks for a faded denim button-down and dark, heavy-looking pants. A canvas jacket had replaced his military coat. Black stubble highlighted the sharpness of his jaw and the hollows in his cheeks.

    But it was more than that. His eyes had grown darker since the last time she'd seen him...or maybe just deeper. The corners were creased with fine lines that hadn't been there before. His posture was stiff and straight; like he was carrying a heavy load, and trying desperately not to buckle under it.

    She had no doubt he'd deny it all if she asked him.

    The hallway opened into a massive room; a dance floor, by the looks of it. An impressive sound stage took up most of the far wall. It was flanked by two bars. Multiple staircases wound up to a catwalk that ringed the entirety of the space.

    For a place clearly designed to be experienced in near-darkness, the presence of light was jarring. Lena's eyes locked on the floor. Several sticky-looking puddles glistened against the charcoal gray tile. Crime scene technicians stepped carefully around them.

    Durbin flagged down a petite Asian woman in a dark jacket with the word FORENSICS lettered on the back. He briefly flashed the badge clipped to his belt. Inspector Durbin. What can you tell me about what happened here?

    The woman blew out a breath and swiped a strand of silky black hair from her eyes. Near as we've been able to tell, one of the patrons just lost it. Five dead. Nearly twenty wounded. So far, we haven't found who did it.

    Lynch coughed. The four of them turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows. Only five dead?

    Durbin gaped, and MacMillian gave him a flat stare. Lena hissed. Jesus, Lynch.

    Lynch lifted a shoulder, dropped it again. A tragedy nonetheless, of course, but fortuitous it was such a small number. I was under the impression this is a rather popular club.

    The tech nodded. It is. One of the bouncers was able to hold the perp down long enough for most of the people inside to escape. Probably the only reason we aren't looking at a full-scale massacre. She cringed. The bouncer—we haven't found him yet, either.

    Durbin nodded. Thank you.

    The tech nodded back, and continued on with what she'd been doing.

    Durbin led them a little ways away, then turned to Lena. All right. Did you find out what you wanted?

    She looked at MacMillian. Well? What do you think?

    He glanced upward. Wouldn't mind getting a look upstairs.

    Durbin started to speak. A woman's sharp voice cut him off.

    Who let these people in here?

    Durbin closed his eyes briefly. Fuck, he breathed.

    Lena looked over her shoulder. Striding towards them was a no-nonsense looking African-American woman. Intelligent eyes sparked in her face. Her black hair was wrestled into a knot at the base of her neck. A badge gleamed at the waistband of her trousers.

    Lena looked back at Durbin. Who is that?

    He shook his head, and moved up to stand beside her. "You'd better let me handle

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