Free Still Not Dead Enough , Book 2 of The Dead Among Us by J. L. Doty Page A

feet. Paul gawked like a country bumpkin when McGowan said, “This is Highland Park. Lot of money in this neighborhood.”
    ~~~
    Anogh waited well down the street from the mansion of the powerful witch. Hidden within a simple glamour in the shadows of a large tree, he watched the limousine pause at a wrought-iron gate. After a brief delay the gate swung open and the large car pulled forward onto the grounds of the estate. He watched the druid, the Old Wizard, his daughter and the necromancer emerge from the limo and disappear into the mansion.
    He also watched Cadilus’s two young mages stalking the periphery of the mansion’s grounds. Both had shape-shifted into small falcons and flitted back and forth on drafts of warm air, careful to remain beyond the mansion’s wards. Shape-shifting was difficult magic for a Sidhe mage on the Mortal Plane, so both were clearly powerful and dangerous.
    A sharp cry broke the quiet of the afternoon, and a large red-tailed hawk swooped down out of the sky. Much bigger than the falcons, its attack was unexpected, and it nearly impaled one on its talons, but the smaller bird dodged at the last moment and escaped without damage. Outmatched by the larger bird, the two falcons fled into the distance, while the hawk landed on the wall surrounding the compound of a neighbor.
    A mortal might think the little drama quite ordinary, predators contesting their hunting territory. But the cry of the hawk had an arcane quality to it Anogh recognized.
    How had the black fey come into this? he wondered. But more importantly, why this particular being, this most dangerous of beings?
    ~~~
    Salisteen met them just inside the front door of the McMansion in a foyer larger than Paul’s apartment. It had curved staircases winding both left and right around a massive crystalline chandelier, both leading up to a second floor landing.
    She was a tall, elegant black woman, African-American, looked like a retired model a bit past her prime, but still quite good looking. She wore a knee length dress, long legs ending in tall, spike heels, curly, brown hair cut in a very short afro. When McGowan introduced them Paul extended his hand. Salisteen beamed at him gorgeously and smiled, gripped his right hand in hers, but reached out with her left hand and took hold of his elbow, then pulled him toward her to within a distance that bordered on intimate. “Paul,” she said sensuously, their faces only inches apart. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She had an accent that could only be described as Texas elegant, every vowel articulated carefully. The word pleasure came out like a promise, and Paul grew aware of some very attractive cleavage not far below his chin, though he was careful not to look down and stare at it.
    She stepped back from him and released his hand, but she paused and looked him up and down carefully, as if examining her next meal. Her smile broadened, and in a slow drawl she said, “This should be very interesting.”
    Katherine said, “My dear, Paul is not an appetizer for dinner.”
    Salisteen turned and looked at her. “Of course not, darling.” She glanced back at Paul. “I think he’d be an entire meal all by himself, including desert. And I am in the mood for desert.”
    She turned and walked toward the interior of the house, spoke as she walked, “Come with me. The servants will take care of your luggage. I have rooms prepared for you.”
    Paul noticed there was a preponderance of rather good-looking young men among Salisteen’s servants, some runway-model caliber, all rather weak practitioners. They wore simple white coats that ended just below their waistline. There were also a few individuals dressed in business suits, male and female, all good looking but nothing like the runway-model servants. The suits were further distinguished from the servants in that each had a little curly, flesh-colored wire running from an ear into the collar of their coat, and also each was a much stronger