The Sabina Kane Series
Red-Headed Stepchild
Mage in Black
Violet Tendencies (Short Story)
Green-Eyed Demon
Silver-Tongued Devil
Blue-Blooded Vamp
Rusted Veins (Novella)
Fool’s Gold (Novella)
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Meridian Six Series
Meridian Six
Children of Ash
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Other Works
The Uncanny Collection
About the Author
USA Today Bestseller Jaye Wells is a former magazine editor whose award-winning speculative fiction novels have hit several bestseller lists. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and is a sought-after speaker on the craft of writing. When she’s not writing or teaching, she loves to travel to exotic locales, experiment in her kitchen like a mad scientist, and try things that scare her so she can write about them in her books. She lives in Texas.
Find out more about Jaye Wells
www.jayewells.com
[email protected]
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Acknowledgments
My name may be on the cover of this book, but a lot of people helped me bring this story to you.
Lyndsey Llewellen at Llewellen Designs created the beautiful cover. She did a great job keeping the look and themes of the original covers created by Lauren Panepinto and the team at Orbit, but also put her own mark on it.
Melissa Hayden provided content editing and Richard Shealy provided copyediting. Thanks to their eagle eyes for catching all my typos and continuity issues. Any errors that made it through are my own.
Thanks to my assistant, Chelsea Klepfer, for keeping me organized and for all your excellent ideas.
Special thanks to Chia Hwa Chang for answering my Chinese language questions. Also Pat Hughes, who, in addition to being my uncle, is also an expert on fire fighting. He answered all my questions about drug lab explosions and provided excellent insights into what happens at the scene. In addition, his No bullshit before 5 p.m. sign inspired the one in Gardner’s office. Again, any errors in the story are my own.
I couldn’t do what I do without the support of my readers, family, and friends. For this book, especially, I had a lot of encouragement and advice from some very smart writers, including Kathleen Baldwin, Kay Thomas, and Yasmine Galenorn. Thanks also to Team Awesome for your continued support and excitement for this series.
Last but not least, Zach and Austin Wells deserve medals for keeping me grounded and laughing. ILYNTB.
If you enjoy the Prospero’s War series by Jaye Wells, be sure to read her post-apocalyptic thriller, Meridian Six:
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In a world at war, freedom is a luxury paid for with blood.
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The daughter of a rebel leader, Meridian Six was used as a propaganda tool and blood slave to her vampire captors for years after her mother died. When she finally escapes, she runs toward a red light signal that leads the way to the underground world of human rebels.
All she wants is freedom, but what she finds instead of a rebellion in search of a hero--and for some reason they think she fits the bill. The vampires used her famous name as a tool of oppression, but now the humans want to use it to inspire a revolution.
Merdian Six
One
The frigid air scraped my lungs raw. I pumped my legs faster, praying for a second wind. Stopping wasn't an option. Their breath beat at my back, and if they caught me, I'd be dead.
I turned the corner, running down an alley. Footsteps echoed behind me. Faster. I wrenched two trashcans back into their path. A male cursed and grunted. Metal scraped against concrete. I focused on the mouth of the alley and prayed for a miracle.
A black sedan screeched to a stop in front of me. I didn't hesitate. My legs ached with the exertion, but I just managed to launch myself onto the hood. On the other side, the landing lurched every joint in my body.
Keep running. Find the light. Red means life.
Behind me, deep voices argued. I continued down the street, cursing the heels the Castor had forced me to wear for the Prime's birthday celebration. I couldn't spare the precious moments to rid myself of the torture devices.
Finally, a speck of red appeared in the distance. All thoughts of sore feet and desperation evaporated. The beckoning light glowed from the porch of a squat, run-down house that looked more like a prewar crack den than a haven for the lost.
I kicked up my pace and pushed through the pain. Salvation drew closer.
My pursuers' harsh breathing echoed off the burnt out shells of buildings and trash-strewn streets. A weathered poster bearing my own face mocked me from the brick walls of an old induction center. In red ink along the bottom, the Troika's slogan, the hated words I'd repeated so often on radio broadcasts and in speeches to grim-faced prisoners: "Blood will make you free."
Not a soul lurked in the shadows. Most humans now slaved in work camps or blood camps. Rebels sought refuge in the burnt-out cities, but if any were watching me from the darkened windows, their survival instincts precluded them from interfering in Troika business. After all, my pursuers wore the telltale black uniforms of the secret police. The lightning symbol on their breasts had become a graphic promise of pain.
Not far now. If I could just--
Pain exploded on my scalp. My head whipped back with the force of the fist jerking back on the ponytail. My feet snapped out from under me. He used my hair to keep me from hitting the ground. The agony made me wish I'd hit concrete instead.
It was Sergei, one of the Prime’s personal guards, who'd caught me. The one who always watched me while caressing his precious riding crop. "Got you, bitch." His eyes burned like hot coals. Fangs flashed as he panted for breath. "Now we can add evading arrest to your list of crimes."
His partner doubled over, trying to catch his breath. I didn't know his name, but he had the wild eyes of a male who enjoyed his job too much. He glanced up at the glowing red light on the front of the house, now only twenty feet away. "She almost made it."
"Almost doesn't count," Sergei said, tugging my hair harder. He leaned in at my grimace. "You like that?" he whispered. "There's more coming." I gritted my teeth and waited for my opportunity. "Call headquarters and have them send a rover to retrieve her."
With the partner distracted, I slapped his fist to my scalp, holding it in place and easing the pressure. I scraped my heel down his shin and stabbed the tip into his foot. With a yelp, he released me. I grabbed the crop from his slack hold and jerked it against his windpipe.
It happened so fast his friend didn't see it. He spoke into his radio, his back to me, "Repeat: Meridian Six has been subdued--" I grabbed the blade from my garter and made his last words dissolve into a wet gurgle. As he fell, I grabbed his gun from his hand and turned it on Sergei.
"You won't be allowed to live." His words the confidence of a man determined to deliver the deathblow. "You'd already be dead if Director Castor didn't want the pleasure for himself."
I put the gun to his head. Pulled the trigger. His body jerked. Wetness splashed my face. I dropped his body and hauled ass toward the steps.
It happened as if in slow motion. I ran toward the door, my hand rose to pound. The roar and vibration of the Troika's arriving craft shook the building. The panel in front of me flew open. A female in red robes opened her mouth in shock, reaching for me. The blast ripped through the night. Fire exploded in my left shoulder. I fell in slow motion, the world a blur of pain--fell across the threshold and into the acolyte's arms. Blood filled my vision.
Red means life.
Meridian Six
Two