Bloodshot - Cherie Priest [4]
“Priest’s tale crackles with action and occult thrills, especially in the scenes of the inundated city reeling under the double assault of Mother Nature and the supernatural. Fans will find this her most assured outing yet.” —BookPage
ALSO BY CHERIE PRIEST
THE CLOCKWORK CENTURY
Dreadnought
Clementine
Boneshaker
Fathom
Those Who Went Remain There Still
Dreadful Skin
EDEN MOORE
Four and Twenty Blackbirds
Wings to the Kingdom
Not Flesh Nor Feathers
Bloodshot is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Spectra Trade Paperback Original
Copyright © 2011 by Cherie Priest
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Spectra, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
SPECTRA and the portrayal of a boxed “s” are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Priest, Cherie.
Bloodshot / Cherie Priest.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-345-52061-6
1. Private investigators—Fiction. 2. Vampires—Fiction. 3. Thieves—Fiction.
I. Title.
PS3616.R537B58 2011
813′.6—dc22
2010040168
www.ballantinebooks.com
Cover design: Jae Song
Cover photograph (woman with gun): © argo74 / Shutterstock
v3.1
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Like most books, Bloodshot wouldn’t have happened without the assistance, time, and input of a small army of exceedingly awesome folks. Therefore, it’s only appropriate to give some shout-outs and pass along my undying (or undead?) thanks to all of the following: my amazing new editor, Anne Groell, for her outstanding patience and remarkable insight; her assistant, David Pomerico, who has kindly answered many a wacked-out question without complaint; my marvelous agent, Jennifer Jackson, for brokering the whole thing in the first place; and to my husband, Aric, who is probably sick to death of hearing about vampires.
Perpetual thanks also go to my awesome-sauce day-job boss at Subterranean (Hi, Bill and Yanni!), for helping me keep the lights on between writing gigs; to Team Seattle, scattered to the four winds though it may be; to the Seattle-area booksellers who have been so outrageously kind to me, including Steven and Vlad at Third Place Books and Duane at the University Book Store—plus the Barnes & Noble crew at Northgate, in particular Covahgin and John B.; to my webmaster Greg the Mighty, who hasn’t pushed me off a cliff yet, despite what must be overwhelming temptation to do so; and as always, to everyone in the secret clubhouse that serves the world, for always believing that I can do it, even when I don’t agree.
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
1
You wouldn’t believe some of the weird shit people pay me to steal.
Old things, new things. Expensive things, rare things, gross things.
Lately it’s been naughty things.
We’ve all heard stories about people who regret their tattoos. But I’d rather spend eternity with Tweety Bird inked on my ass than knowing there’s a hide-the-cucumber short film out there with my name on it, and my bank account tells me I’m not alone. I’ve done three pilfer-the-porno cases in the last eight months, and I’ve got another one on deck.
But I think I’m going to tell that fourth case to go to hell. Maybe I’ll quit doing them altogether. They make me feel like an ambulance chaser, or one of those private dicks who earns a living by spying on cheating spouses, and that’s no fun. Profitable, yes, but there