Hexed

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    HEXED
     
    A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the authors
     
    PRINTING HISTORY
    Berkley mass-market edition / June 2011
     
Copyright © 2011 by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
    “Magic Dreams” by Ilona Andrews copyright © 2011 by Andrew Gordon and Ilona Gordon.
    “Ice Shards” by Yasmine Galenorn copyright © 2011 by Yasmine Galenorn.
    “Double Hexed” by Allyson James copyright © 2011 by Jennifer Ashley.
    “Blood Debt” by Jeanne C. Stein copyright © 2011 by Jeanne C. Stein.

     
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    eISBN : 978-1-101-52891-4
     
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MAGIC DREAMS
     

     
    ILONA ANDREWS

     
    I PEERED THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF MY’93 Mustang. The Buzzard Highway stretched before me, a narrow line of crumbling pavement vanishing into the dusk. Below it ran the Scratches, a twisted labyrinth of narrow ravines gouged out of the ground by magic three decades ago, when our world began to end. The old road skimmed the top of the ravines, rolling far into the distance, where the sunset glowed gold, red, and finally turquoise. There was something vaguely wrong with this picture, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
    The Buzzard Highway took no prisoners. Step too hard on the accelerator, turn the wheel half an inch too far, and Boom! Pow! Fiery crash! To the bottom of the ravine you went. Only Atlanta’s best and craziest raced here.
    That’s why I liked it. When a girl weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet, her glasses are thicker than Sherlock Holmes’s loupe, and everybody under the sun makes fun of her because she’s a vegetarian and blood makes her vomit, she has to do something to prove that she isn’t a wimp. The wild, deafening chaos of the Friday night Buzzard race was a strictly nowimps-allowed kind of fun.
    It was so peaceful now. So quiet. Just me and the Mustang. I had named it Rambo. It was a sweet car, built from the ground up for one purpose: to go fast. We understood each other, Rambo and I. Rambo liked to kick ass, and I made sure it had a chance to show off.
    My body was so light. It was an odd feeling, almost like I was swimming or floating through some feathery cloud.
    A familiar face appeared in the windshield: pale skin, dark eyes, the long tattoo of a dragon wrapped around his neck, snaking its way down under the blue tank top. Kasen. Decent enough guy as wererats went. He operated a tow truck and liked