The Hidden Legacy series continues as Nevada and Rogan
navigate
a world where magic is the norm . . . and their relationship burns
hot.
WHITE HOTHidden Legacy #2
Ilona Andrews
Releasing May 30, 2017
Avon Books
The Hidden Legacy series by #1 New York Times bestselling author Ilona Andrews continues as Nevada and Rogan navigate a world where magic is the norm . . . and their relationship burns hot.
Nevada Baylor has a unique and secret skill—she knows when people are lying—and she's used that magic (along with plain, hard work) to keep her colorful and close-knit family's detective agency afloat. But her new case pits her against the shadowy forces that almost destroyed the city of Houston once before, bringing Nevada back into contact with Connor "Mad" Rogan.
Rogan is a billionaire Prime—the highest rank of magic user—and as unreadable as ever, despite Nevada's "talent." But there's no hiding the sparks between them. Now that the stakes are even higher, both professionally and personally, and their foes are unimaginably powerful, Rogan and Nevada will find that nothing burns like ice.
Excerpt
“My wife is dead.” His voice shook with
barely controlled emotion. His eyes glistened. “She’s my light. She found me in
the darkest time of my life and she saw something in me . . . She believed I
could be a better man. I didn’t deserve her or the happiness we had. She loved
me, Nevada. She loved me so much, in spite of my faults, and I was the luckiest
man alive because when I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw her next to me.
She had integrity. She was kind and intelligent, and she tried her hardest to
do the right thing so this world would be a better place for our child to grow
up in. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved to be happy. She deserved a full
and long life. Nobody had the right to rob her of it.”
His face contorted with raw pain and
grief. I was trying so hard not to cry. “I love her determination. I love her
spirit. I’m proud to have been her husband. And now she’s dead. Someone took
this wonderful—this truly beautiful—human being and turned her into a corpse. I
saw her on the morgue table. She’s just . . . cold and lifeless as if she never
was. Everything is gone except for our daughter and my memories. I have to
strive to be the man she thought I was. When my daughter grows up, she’ll ask
me why her mother was murdered and I’ll have to answer her. I have to account
for my actions. I want to tell her that I found those responsible and I made
sure they wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”
He brushed moisture from his eyes with a
furious swipe of his hand. “Nobody else will do this. Her family doesn’t have
the means, my family doesn’t care, and her employer might have murdered her.
There is only me. Will you help me? Please.”
He fell silent. He was sitting here
asking for my help and I couldn’t throw him out of my office. I just couldn’t. I
remembered when Mom sold our house to pay for Dad’s bills. I remembered when we
mortgaged the business and kept it from him, because it would’ve killed him
faster than any disease. If someone I loved was murdered, I would do the same
thing Cornelius did. He had nowhere to turn. If I slammed the door in his face
now, I wouldn’t be able to look my reflection in the eye.
I reached into the top drawer of my desk
and took out the blue new-client folder. I opened it so it faced him, placed it
on the table, and wrote $50,000 in the margins on the front. “This is my
retainer. This stays with the agency no matter what happens. It’s
nonnegotiable.”
I used my pen to circle the bottom
number on the right side. “These are our rates. This job is likely to be
high-risk, so the top rate right here will apply. As you can see, it’s a daily
and not hourly rate. Depending on the situation, I may have to charge you
hazard pay or additional expenses. The retainer acts like a deductible. Once
the amount billed to you exceeds it, you will make additional payments in installments
of $10,000. After we’re done here, you may want to go to the bank and withdraw
at least $20,000 in cash. We may have to bribe people . . .”
“Thank you.”
“This is a bad idea. Please reconsider.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I walked him through the privacy policy
and had him sign all of the waivers. “What happens once we find whoever is
responsible?”
“I’ll take care of things from there.”
“Meaning you’ll kill your wife’s
murderer.”
“It’s the way Houses handle things,”
Cornelius said.
“Well, I’m not a House. I’m a person
with a family, and I respect and try to obey the laws of this country. I won’t
hesitate to defend you or myself, but I won’t condone murder.”
“Understood,” Cornelius said. “How do we
start?”
“I need to be able to speak to Matthias
Forsberg. I need face-to-face time so I can ask him some questions. I can make
the necessary calls tomorrow, but he’ll refuse to see me.”
“You don’t have the social status and
you work for his competitor.” Cornelius nodded. “Matthias is an active participant
in the Assembly. He never misses a session. Tomorrow happens to be December
15th. The session starts at 9:00 a.m.”
“I don’t have admission to the
Assembly.” The Assembly was an unofficial executive body that governed the magic
users at state and national levels. The Texas State Assembly met in Houston. A
family had to have at least two Prime-caliber magic users in three generations
to be considered a House and each House had a single seat. Technically the
Assembly had no power within the US government, but, practically, when the
Houses spoke in one collective voice, both Congress and the White House
listened.
“A family name has to be good for
something, right?”
Cornelius smiled. It never reached his
eyes. They stayed bitter and haunted. “As a Significant and a scion of a House,
I’m free to attend the Assembly and bring a companion of my choice. I intend to
be an active participant in this investigation, Ms. Baylor.”
“Call me Nevada,” I told him. “Good.
Then we’ll meet here tomorrow at seven.”
“My wife is dead.” His voice shook with
barely controlled emotion. His eyes glistened. “She’s my light. She found me in
the darkest time of my life and she saw something in me . . . She believed I
could be a better man. I didn’t deserve her or the happiness we had. She loved
me, Nevada. She loved me so much, in spite of my faults, and I was the luckiest
man alive because when I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw her next to me.
She had integrity. She was kind and intelligent, and she tried her hardest to
do the right thing so this world would be a better place for our child to grow
up in. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved to be happy. She deserved a full
and long life. Nobody had the right to rob her of it.”
His face contorted with raw pain and
grief. I was trying so hard not to cry. “I love her determination. I love her
spirit. I’m proud to have been her husband. And now she’s dead. Someone took
this wonderful—this truly beautiful—human being and turned her into a corpse. I
saw her on the morgue table. She’s just . . . cold and lifeless as if she never
was. Everything is gone except for our daughter and my memories. I have to
strive to be the man she thought I was. When my daughter grows up, she’ll ask
me why her mother was murdered and I’ll have to answer her. I have to account
for my actions. I want to tell her that I found those responsible and I made
sure they wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”
He brushed moisture from his eyes with a
furious swipe of his hand. “Nobody else will do this. Her family doesn’t have
the means, my family doesn’t care, and her employer might have murdered her.
There is only me. Will you help me? Please.”
He fell silent. He was sitting here
asking for my help and I couldn’t throw him out of my office. I just couldn’t. I
remembered when Mom sold our house to pay for Dad’s bills. I remembered when we
mortgaged the business and kept it from him, because it would’ve killed him
faster than any disease. If someone I loved was murdered, I would do the same
thing Cornelius did. He had nowhere to turn. If I slammed the door in his face
now, I wouldn’t be able to look my reflection in the eye.
I reached into the top drawer of my desk
and took out the blue new-client folder. I opened it so it faced him, placed it
on the table, and wrote $50,000 in the margins on the front. “This is my
retainer. This stays with the agency no matter what happens. It’s
nonnegotiable.”
I used my pen to circle the bottom
number on the right side. “These are our rates. This job is likely to be
high-risk, so the top rate right here will apply. As you can see, it’s a daily
and not hourly rate. Depending on the situation, I may have to charge you
hazard pay or additional expenses. The retainer acts like a deductible. Once
the amount billed to you exceeds it, you will make additional payments in installments
of $10,000. After we’re done here, you may want to go to the bank and withdraw
at least $20,000 in cash. We may have to bribe people . . .”
“Thank you.”
“This is a bad idea. Please reconsider.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I walked him through the privacy policy
and had him sign all of the waivers. “What happens once we find whoever is
responsible?”
“I’ll take care of things from there.”
“Meaning you’ll kill your wife’s
murderer.”
“It’s the way Houses handle things,”
Cornelius said.
“Well, I’m not a House. I’m a person
with a family, and I respect and try to obey the laws of this country. I won’t
hesitate to defend you or myself, but I won’t condone murder.”
“Understood,” Cornelius said. “How do we
start?”
“I need to be able to speak to Matthias
Forsberg. I need face-to-face time so I can ask him some questions. I can make
the necessary calls tomorrow, but he’ll refuse to see me.”
“You don’t have the social status and
you work for his competitor.” Cornelius nodded. “Matthias is an active participant
in the Assembly. He never misses a session. Tomorrow happens to be December
15th. The session starts at 9:00 a.m.”
“I don’t have admission to the
Assembly.” The Assembly was an unofficial executive body that governed the magic
users at state and national levels. The Texas State Assembly met in Houston. A
family had to have at least two Prime-caliber magic users in three generations
to be considered a House and each House had a single seat. Technically the
Assembly had no power within the US government, but, practically, when the
Houses spoke in one collective voice, both Congress and the White House
listened.
“A family name has to be good for
something, right?”
Cornelius smiled. It never reached his
eyes. They stayed bitter and haunted. “As a Significant and a scion of a House,
I’m free to attend the Assembly and bring a companion of my choice. I intend to
be an active participant in this investigation, Ms. Baylor.”
“Call me Nevada,” I told him. “Good.
Then we’ll meet here tomorrow at seven.”
Start the Trilogy at the beginning
“Ilona
Andrews" is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing
team. Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications
sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an
intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious
Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101,
where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.) They have
co-authored two New York Times and USA Today bestselling series—the urban
fantasy of Kate Daniels and the romantic urban fantasy of The Edge—and are
working on the next volumes for both. They live in Texas with their two
children and many dogs and cats.
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