Medusa's Dagger (Aya Harris Collection 1)

The hooded man grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair and yanked her to the ground. Her screams were cut off by his hand closing over her mouth. He dug a knee into her stomach, pinning her to the concrete with his body weight.

“What a yummy surprise,” the man cooed. He smiled, displaying three rows of sharpened teeth.

The woman’s frightened scream was muffled by his fist in her mouth. I watched helplessly as he sunk his teeth into her neck like a shark and began to devour her alive. There was so much blood. The vision came to a sudden halt and I found myself back in the museum lobby, my face melded to the tile floor.

“Did you have another one?”

My assistant, Angel, came rushing to my side. She helped me sit up and lean against the wall. The room spun around me. At any second, I could eject the turkey sandwich I had for lunch all over the floor. Moving was out of the question.

“Yes, just as bad as the last one.” I held a hand to my head. “No, wait. Scratch that. This one was worse.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile and crouched down on her heels. “At least you’re saving lives.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I’d had four visions since Nicky left town, each one getting steadily worse. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside my head. What used to happen once a year, was now happening once a week. At this rate, I’d be spending the rest of my life in bed, nursing magical hangovers.

“Tell me, was it a theft or something worse?” Angel asked, studying my face. “Your last vision was a guy stealing from a bank. I almost wanted you to let him get away with it.”

Angel had a little bit of that down with the man attitude. I blamed it on her hippy mother. She’d been big into the love and peace movements of the sixties. Drank too much and smoked everything she could find. It was a good decade for her.

She was proud of the fact that she’d conceived Angel in a weed-fueled night at Woodstock. Didn’t even know the guy’s name. But she got Angel, and that was all that mattered to her.

“No, this was way worse,” I moaned. “Like, murder worse. I saw a manticore chow down on a lady. It was bloodier than a Tarantino film.”

Angel grimaced. Manticores weren’t exactly common around here. They were one of the creatures forced to register with the Supernatural Investigations – the SI – when they entered the country. As a typically man-eating species, the SI liked to keep a close eye on their lot.

“I’d better call Gideon.” I used Angel to pull myself off the ground. “He’s going to want to report this one right away. I think it happens tonight.”

Angel straightened my royal blue sweater and swiped a hand on my rear, dusting off the particles from the floor. She was the kind of friend that didn’t mind pointing out a piece of food stuck in your teeth. It only made me love her more.

“No need,” she said, studying my outfit. “Prince Charming is waiting for you at the front counter.”

I bit my bottom lip and opened my eyes wide at her. Gideon had spent

most of the past few weeks out of town on official SI business, but he made a point to fly in as often as he could. Ever since we defeated Theo, he and I had a thing going. I wasn’t sure how serious it would become, but I liked the way he smelled and the way he kissed. You could build a relationship on that.

“Go get him, chica,” Angel said with a smack of her lips.

I finished brushing my clothes off and forced myself to walk calmly through the displays, although I wanted nothing more than to break out into a sprint. There he was, leaning casually against the counter and studying his phone, all five foot eleven of him. He’d had time to trade in his customary suit for a pair of worn denim jeans and his favorite brown leather jacket with the popped collar.

As I took in the sight of his scruffy beard and tussled hair, the memories of his last day in town crept into my head, making me blush. We’d spent a lazy Saturday in his hotel room, ordering room service and testing out the Jacuzzi bathtub. Champaign and chocolate dipped strawberries were the special of the day. I wished we were back in that hotel room so I could trail my fingers along the tattoos hidden beneath his t-shirt and jeans.

“Hi you,” I said.

He looked up from his phone and gave me a crooked grin. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Sorry for dropping in without calling. I tried texting, but you didn’t reply.”

I sighed. “Sorry. We had a toad emergency in back. It’s taken up most of my morning.”

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but he didn’t ask. Weird things like that were just a part of my job. They happened a little too often around here.

“Listen, before I forget, I had a vision,” I told him.

As much as I wanted to fall into his arms and get lost in those hazel eyes, I had to save that woman. Just the idea of getting eaten alive made me shudder.

“There’s a woman on Tenth Avenue that’s going to be attacked by a manticore tonight. You might want to get someone on that.”

He nodded curtly and dialed up the local SI on his phone. So far, my visions had been four for four. It was pretty much a guarantee that someone was going to become a manticore meal tonight unless they stopped it.