Night Mischief
London, October, present day
Professor Dawn Maybank peered into the dense London fog and drew her trench coat tighter around her shoulders. Pressing the auto lock on her Jaguar, she shivered. She should not have parked on the street. She knew better. Anything could be out there, peering back at her. Vampires, demons, were-creatures: any of the paranormal beings that inhabited the dark shadows of the mortal realm. This was exactly the kind of cloaking fog that drew paras out to hunt. She knew that.
It would be her downfall someday, her impetuousness.
In the tomblike silence of the twilit morning, Dawn’s high heels clicked loudly on the uneven cobblestones, echoing off the ancient walls that canted Old Trolly Road where the Department of Anachronistic Research, of which she was now the department head, was located. She should at least have worn flats. In case she had to run. Damn this job and damn the dress code, and damn her father for making her accept the position.
The thick mist crept slowly around her body like a moving shroud of unease. She could see sod all. Even her hearing was muffled, the cries of the gulls from the nearby Thames sounding more like whi ... read full excerpt from: Night Mischief ebook
