1 AVERY

"Three months. Three months. You can do anything for three months," I whispered.

The brakes squeaked on my black Explorer when I rolled up to the portal leading to the SF's headquarters. A narrow road stretched in front of me. Trees towered alongside it like giant sentries, swaying gently in the summer breeze. Forest filled this part of Idaho, but it was the glimmering red line wavering across my hood that truly captured my attention.

Humans couldn't see the SF's magical barrier or scanning devices.

Lucky for me, I was one step more magical than humans.

Well . . . barely . . .

I took a deep breath. Three months. You have to do this for three months or you'll never become a supernatural ambassador.

I rolled down my window when a glowing scanner materialized on the other side of it and placed my hand on the pad. Magic enveloped my skin, warming my palm.

"Please state your reasons for requesting access to the Supernatural Forces," a robotic voice said. There wasn't a speaker, so it was as though the voice came from an invisible entity.

"Avery Meyers, reporting for duty."

The magic heated further, then released my palm. "Welcome, Avery Meyers. Please proceed."

Another shimmer of magic erupted, and an opaque garage-door-style opening materialized in front of my car, a billowing fog pouring out. I drove forward, and my Explorer disappeared into the mist.

I swallowed a yelp when a free-falling sensation made my stomach flip, but the portal transfer was over before I knew it. Thankfully, when I emerged on the other side, my swallowed squeal meant nobody had noticed my reaction.

Around me the SF garage loomed. The ceiling soared to at least fifty feet, large enough to comfortably house a 737. Parked cars filled the perimeter of the massive enclosure, and in the center several aircraft had technicians climbing over them like ants surrounding an ant hill. One of the technicians interrupted my ogling and flagged me to an open parking spot.

I snapped my jaw shut and carefully parked within the lines.

The technician opened the door for me, a grin stretching across his face. "Avery Meyers, welcome to the Supernatural Forces."

"Thank you. It's good to be here." I grabbed my bag and threaded my fingers through my long, dark hair, working out the tangles from the drive. I smiled for good measure, too, hoping it hid the butterflies flapping in my stomach.

Banging sounds reverberated throughout the garage as technicians worked, and scents of spicy magic and gasoline accompanied the busy workplace.

"You can wait with the other new recruits until your commander arrives." The technician waved toward two men and a woman standing near the corner. One of the guys kept shifting his weight, and the woman's eyes were as wide as saucers.

I hefted my bag over my shoulder and proceeded to the group. They all watched me, and despite vowing to keep my chin up, a moment of trepidation filled me. After all, the other new recruits were all future SF members—they weren't at the SF temporarily like I was.

"You're a new recruit too?" one of the guys asked when I reached them. He was of medium height, which meant he wasn't a werewolf. He also had a caramel-colored complexion hinting at a Latino background. And since his complexion hadn't been paled by a transformation, he also wasn't a vampire. That meant he was either a glamoured fairy, a sorcerer, a half- demon, or a mixed-blood like me.

I nodded. "Yep, I'm Avery Meyers, although I'm only here for three months, then I start my new ambassador job in Geneva."

"Ooh, you're going to be an ambassador?" the woman said, cocking her head. She had purple hair and pointy ears—an unglamoured fairy.

Neither gave off overly strong power surges, so my death grip on my bag eased. Maybe I wouldn't be the only magically inferior after all. "Yeah, I graduated from college last week, so after training here is done I'll be off. What about you guys?"

The medium-height guy replied, "I'll be joining the Magical Forensics squad here at the SF. I'll be permanent staff. Name's Bo Sanchez— sorcerer."

Ah, so that's what he is.

The purple-haired fairy twirled one of her locks around a finger. "And I am Eliza River. I shall be permanent staff as well, except I shall be a Processing Bay technician."

"And you?" I asked the taller guy. He hadn't said anything yet since he was too busy casting anxious glances toward the door behind us.

"Chris Larson. I'm the newest recruit to Squad Six." A buzz of energy surrounded Chris. Now that I stood closer to him, I felt its strength.

I pressed my lips into a smile. "So you'll be in the field?" "Yep. I've been waiting for this day for years."

In other words, Chris was a real supernatural. Given the hum of dominant werewolf energy flowing under his skin, I wasn't surprised. He had to be from one of the high-ranking pureblood families, which explained why he'd been accepted into a numbered SF squad.

A numbered squad was something I would never be worthy of since the Supernatural Forces only accepted the strongest supernaturals into that fold, but I did feel thankful for the SF and was grateful supernaturals like Chris existed.

If it weren't for supernaturals like him, the community would no doubt erupt into lawlessness and chaos. Thankfully, that hadn't happened in hundreds of years, not since the organization had first been created.

Nowadays, the SF was like the armed forces and law enforcement combined. The SF regularly dealt with all the dangerous crap most of us never knew existed, and they were the reason relative peace existed among our kind.

A second rush of magic blew behind me as another vehicle entered the SF garage. I averted my attention from my squad mates to see who the newest arrival was.

A guy sat behind the wheel of a sleek white Porsche. It practically reeked of money. He pulled forward without hesitation as a technician directed him to a parking spot.

Before I could scrutinize him further, a single loud bang came from the corner on the far side of the garage, and a group of six men and women strode out. They all wore matching combat suits with weapons strapped to their backs, chests, and legs. None of them gave us a passing glance before they hopped into an infinity craft which the technicians had just finished servicing.

The infinity craft roared to life, then it lifted from the ground, levitating before it shimmered as an invisibility cloaking spell washed over it. I blinked, and the craft had disappeared, but the spell didn't stop the heat from the craft's engine or the rumble when it shot skyward.

Then . . . it was gone.

My eyes popped. Holy shit. That was a squad that just took off for a mission.

My heart beat faster when it hit me that I was here, really here at the Supernatural Forces headquarters.

Once the magical display of the departing craft was over, Bo muttered, "Wicked."

Eliza merely twirled her purple hair more while Chris continued to watch the portal where the squad had flown out, an envious expression on his face.

"You must be the new recruits?" The man who'd driven the Porsche swaggered toward us.

His pale face split into a smile. Sharp fangs glistened behind his lips. Why his fangs weren't retracted was a mystery, but maybe his maker hadn't taught him that keeping his fangs out was a sign of aggression.

When his gaze swept to me, he didn't hide his appraisal. "Hello, gorgeous. And who might you be?"

Unperturbed by the vampire's blatant sexual interest—after all, vamps were kind of known for that—I replied, "I'm Avery, and this is Bo, Eliza, and Chris. And you are?"

"Zaden Lane."

Bo and Eliza shook his hand, but Chris merely cast Zaden a curious stare. "You must be a new vamp, huh?"

If Chris was right, that would explain the fang spectacle. Zaden's lips thinned. "What gave it away?"

Chris crossed his arms. "For one, your fangs are out. And two, there aren't many vamps working for the SF. Most of the old ones find the modern ways and rules too boring for their tastes, but the new ones . . ."

Zaden quirked an eyebrow but didn't respond, although he did retract his fangs into his gums.