She spent years avoiding the dead.
Now they’re coming after her.
Three years ago, Max Norton left home to open a tea leaves and tarot shop. It seemed like a good trade: escape the King of Hell and live a low-key life free from scrutiny and death threats. For a Scythe, a half-human paranormal entity who can open literal portals to Heaven and Hell, it’s a dream come true. Until an annoyingly handsome ghost shows up and demands that Max help him solve his murder.
The rusty blue hatchback ahead of me slows to a stop. Three cars in front of it, a cop waves his arms, directing traffic around the blackened husk of a truck and several emergency vehicles. Smoke wafts into the early morning sky, but neither of the ambulances have...read more
It was three am when the vampire walked in. Witching hour for San Francisco. Rush hour around here. Or as close as Harvey’s gas station bodega ever got. I was restocking the freezers when the bell above the door rang. Yeah, okay, I wasn’t so much restocking as...read more
My guide was already an hour late. The minute hand dragged ever closer to the hour and a half mark and I was convinced that if he didn’t show up soon, I was going to toss the scrawny man off the side of the mountain and let him make the acquaintance of the winding...read more
ducked under the massive, rusted fence that separated the Scraps from the Dregs, keeping my head low, looking out towards the piles of junk that stretched in every direction. It was refuse to the sky dwellers – everything from half-empty...read more
After the Kreon pillaged our planet, they gave us two choices: Join the academies, to be brainwashed into submission, or work the mines for the Kreon. To resist is death. To love is treason. Falling for the enemy is illegal... but it might just save the planet. When I...read more
When Brianna discovers her little sister has cancer, she's willing to try anything to save her: even if it means getting her science fair group to hack a new medical technology that involves microscopic robots. After creating an underground app that lets students...read more
About Urban Epics
Love scifi and fantasy novels, with strong female protagonists, epic battles, tragic romances and detailed world-building? So do we!
Urban Epics was started by Derek Murphy, after quitting academia to write young adult scifi and fantasy novels. When his imagination outgrew his writing pace, he teamed up with more writers to produce new works of fiction, under his alter-ego Drake Mason. We’re working on dozens of exciting new series and we can’t wait to share them with you!
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SINCERELY, THE AUTHORS
THE SOURCE OF MAGICY
ducked under the massive, rusted fence that separated the Scraps from the Dregs, keeping my head low, looking out towards the piles of junk that stretched in every direction. It was refuse to the sky dwellers – everything from half-empty containers of high-end cosmetics and old clothing to malfunctioned mage tech – but that didn’t mean it was worthless. Even their garbage was often finer quality than the stuff we were used to. Dig long enough and you could find something really valuable. Only problem was, the Dregs was forbidden, though that hadn’t stopped me before. There was no sound except for the wind whipping through the barren earth and the crumbling ruins of once-beautiful buildings. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. My threadbare jacket did nothing against the sharp, winter wind. Sterling settled beside me, and for a few seconds, we listened.
“If we die of hypothermia, I’m gonna come back as a ghost and haunt your uncle for the rest of his life,” Sterling hissed. “It’s too cold for us to be doing this crap, Wynter.”
It would be even colder in the Dregs. Darker, too. Looking up, I could see the rocky underside of the Floats above us, casting a deep, perennial shadow over their protected refuse piles. Just around the ledge I could see the bright tips of the floating city in the sky, an impenetrable fortress to those without a magical means of reaching them. While the Dregs got some shade depending on the time of day, the Dregs were always dark, and at night, the inky blackness was especially ominous.
Iwake to a deep thrumming sound. My hand reaches for the knife under my pillow as I pull the threadbare quilt off. I step toward the door, avoiding the creakiest floorboards and taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. There’s enough morning light filtering in through the small window to see my little brother, still asleep on his mat.
I whisper a prayer as I open the door slowly, lifting it up so its normal grating doesn’t betray me. I hear the large drone overhead again and slip outside to follow, barefoot on the cool grass. Our valley is still half-shrouded in mist. I keep to the shadows of the forest as I scan the early morning sky, trying to sniff out the smell of engine oil over the strong scent of pine and damp earth.
Just when I think I’ve lost it, the drone whizzes above me, a few feet over the tree line. I hold my breath as I watch it zoom toward our cabin. But then it wobbles and changes direction. Downward. I take a deep breath and start running. As I close in on where the drone is dropping rapidly into the forest, I slow my pace so I don’t trigger any of my own traps.
I hear the instant the battery in the drone gives out, then its rotors go silent. I wait behind a large tree until the metallic beast hits the forest floor, but peek around to see it flailing in a small clearing. Thin legs slide out of its main body and reach toward the ground. It crawls eastward like a giant black spider, trying to head back to the Kreon base.
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I always knew music was powerful. I didn’t know it could kill. The devil wants to use me as his weapon. To save the one I love, I let him.
I can see the future, but I can’t stop the apocalypse. Unless I kill my boyfriend’s father. I’ll either lose my life, or my heart.
Nobody is powerful enough to raise the dead, except me and my uncle, and that’s a secret I plan on taking to the grave. Zombies suck.
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