Drow Princess for Hire.
Skills include wielding dual magics, stabbing bad guys with the pointy end, and protecting the good people of Seattle from dark wizards.
Also wraps a mean sashimi roll.
The name Brownstone evokes a certain reaction no matter who hears it. And for Alison Brownstone that’s both a blessing and a curse.
But it’s time for her to step out of her dad’s shadow and make a new name for herself.
She just has to decide what she wants that name to mean.
At twenty-five years old, it’s time Alison chose who she wants to be now that she’s grown up. She has many role models who’ve shaped her and trained her into the woman she is now.
But she is her father’s daughter…
Old face, new attitude.
Join Alison as she faces off against technomagic, cults, criminal organizations, and the growing discrimination against all things magical.
Alison’s boots thudded against the asphalt, the sound echoing in the narrow alley. The noise mixed with the desperate footsteps of her prey, a puffing thug in an ill-fitting suit running down the alley. The power of fear, desperation and longer legs let him pull away from her.
The sight might have looked bizarre to anyone else: a large thug wearing a mask of panic fleeing from an attractive and fit young woman in her mid-twenties. Only her stark white long hair suggested she was more than a normal young woman, something easily misinterpreted as a fashion statement.
With a grimace, Alison considered her options. The bastard was getting away, but using too much magic early might prove a problem once she found his buddies. She pushed the thought out of her mind. The scumbag was her only lead. It wasn’t time to hold back.
“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’ve not used any yet.”
Alison threw up her hands, narrowing her eyes and concentrating. Shadows flowed together into murky circles lining the walls to her left and right.
“I bet those Drow never thought I’d use it this way,” Alison mumbled. She pushed her glasses up her face.
An errant can sent her prey stumbling to the ground as she jumped toward the left wall. Her foot landed on the first shadow disk. She pushed off and flew toward the next disk on her right even faster than before. She alternated between the walls, bouncing and speeding up with each connection.
The thug scrambled to his feet and broke into a new sprint, his face red and beaded with sweat, his breathing ragged.
Alison reached her last acceleration disk and leapt forward, now barreling toward the escaping criminal. A quick movement of her hand summoned a shimmering field of light around her. Being fit didn’t mean the smaller woman wouldn’t hurt herself crashing into a much larger man.
She slammed right into the man’s back, her energy shield flashing. The thug yelped and fell to the ground, face-first, only a couple yards from the street. The hard collision knocked the air of his lungs, and he gasped for oxygen, Alison’s knee in his back.
“You bitch,” the man rasped. “I think you broke something.”
“Aw, poor baby I hope I did.” Alison patted him on the back. She pulled out her 9mm and jammed it in his back. Magic had its place, but a gun was often easier. “A bullet might break a lot more.”
The man gritted his teeth. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with little girl.”
She ground the gun against his back. “I think it’s kind of the other way around. Speaking of girls, where is she?”
“You’ll never find her.” The man grunted.
Alison laughed. “If you don’t tell me where she is, I don’t have much reason to keep you alive, now do I?”
“You kill me, then you’ll never find her. Go ahead. Shoot me.”
She lowered her gun-free hand in front of his face and turned it so her palm was up. “How much do you know about me?”
He snorted. “You’re that bastard Brownstone’s daughter. You’re half-elf or some shit.”
She chuckled. “That sounds about right. I want you to think about that. My dad doesn’t exactly have a reputation for restraint, and I have a lot of respect for my dad.” She sighed. “And I have a lot of magic, including hungry shadow magic.”
A writhing mass of twitching shadowy tentacles appeared in her palm.
The man’s eyes widened. “What the fuck is that?”
Alison leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Do you want to find out? Want to see what it might do your brain? So hungry. So very hungry.”
She almost laughed. It was nothing more than a party trick, but a little misdirection might expedite the interrogation.
The thug trembled. “You can’t kill me. If you do, you’ll never find her before they ship her out of the country.”
Alison sighed. “That’s the thing. If you’re not going to tell me anyway, then you’re just an asshole helping traffic girls. And I don’t think the police are going to call the Paranormal Defense Agency because some of piece of trash like you ends up dead under mysterious circumstances.”
He rattled off an address in the Union Market area in northeast D.C. “There’s a restaurant supply warehouse there. They’ve got the girl stashed there. Please, don’t let that thing eat my brain. I’m just an errand boy. I’m nothing, really.”
“Huh.” Alison nodded. “Less brave than I thought.” She fished out handcuffs from her red denim jacket and secured the man’s hands. “It’s your lucky day. Since you actually cooperated, nothing’s going to eat your brain. I’ll have the police come and pick you up, and just keep in mind, it’s a good thing for you that you’re not going to be at that warehouse when I show up.”
She slammed a fist into the side of his face. His head smacked against the hard asphalt of the alley. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head as he passed out.
“I doubt your friends will be as cooperative,” Alison murmured to herself, and dusted her hands off. “I almost hope they aren’t.”