Long Past Dues (The Unorthodox Chronicles, Band 2) - Hardcover

Butcher, James J.

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593440439 ISBN 13: 9780593440438

Verlag: Ace, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

Grimsby, the newest Auditor in the magical Department of Unorthodox Affairs, finds himself in hot water when he intercepts a friend’s case in this fast-paced and thrilling urban fantasy.

Against all odds, Grimshaw Griswald Grimsby has become an Auditor, enforcing laws about magic for Boston’s Department of Unorthodox Affairs. But Grimsby soon realizes the daily grind of his job is far removed from the glamour he imagined. Overlooked for every exciting case, Grimsby tires of being told to handle mundane magical troubles, and appropriates a case file intended for a friend.

Alongside Leslie Mayflower, the temporarily unretired Huntsman, Grimsby aims to crack the case and discover the origin of a strange, unfinished ritual—one that seems to imitate the handiwork of a foe Mayflower put down twenty years ago.

Together, they’ll have to deal with escaped werewolves, a cursed artifact, and a perilous journey to the mysterious subterranean city below Boston, all to uncover the shocking truth. At any cost, Grimsby must stop this ritual from finally being completed. Yet the cost may be paid not by himself but by his friends. . . .

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

James J. Butcher spends most of his time in places that don’t exist, some of which he even created himself—including the world of the Unorthodox Chronicles. What little time he has left is usually spent writing or exercising. He is the son of #1 New York Times bestselling author Jim Butcher, who introduced him to books, movies, and games. James lives in Denver and is working on his next novel.

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One

Grimshaw Griswald Grimsby slid his enchanted bicycle to a stop on the cracked pavement leading up to the house's sun-scoured door. Green sparks crackled from the rear gears as his Torque spell tried nudging the wheel forward, but he held it in place with the handbrakes as he gauged the neighborhood. This particular street was worn, relative to the quaint standards of Hyde Park. The pavement was pitted and faded to a bleached gray, while the homes on either side of the street were long, narrow collections of chipped brick, cracked timber, and rusted fixtures. However, even compared to its neighbors, this house seemed ill kept, or maybe just abandoned.

Grimsby wiped at the sweat on his brow with the loose sleeve of his oversize suit jacket before pulling a folded paper from his pocket. He double-checked the address, then leaned his bike against the short chain-link fence that guarded the small yard of wild, overgrown grass, propping the ever-spinning wheel up off the ground, where it spun in the still afternoon air like a windmill. Even from the broken-hinged gate, he could smell that the warm spring air was dampened by the odor of mold and something wet and pungent.

His steps ground over sun-cracked concrete and creaked on the old porch as he approached the door, and all the way he couldn't help but feel eyes on him. It made a shiver crawl through the gnarled burn scars along his left side, like ice-water veins from his fingertips all the way up the side of his neck. He scratched at the sensation and shook away the nervous feeling, forcing himself to remain as rigid and professional as he could.

He was an Auditor now, after all.

Though it didn't exactly feel like he had always imagined it would.

He rapped his knuckles on the weathered door, the rough surface stripped clean of paint by sunsets and neglect. His knock sounded meek, almost shallow, and no reply came from within.

He scowled and knocked more firmly, making his knuckles ache, until he was sure the occupant must have heard. It was the last name on his list, and he wouldn't return to the Department before checking it off. Menial task or not, he'd do his job.

Footsteps creaked inside the house, drawing slowly closer. Grimsby saw the peephole in the door darken as someone on the other side peered through, then heard the clatter and clack of multiple dead bolts and locks unwind and recede.

The door opened a crack, and a portly face with reddened eyes and lanky locks of dark, stringy hair peered out from within. "Yeah?"

"Samuel Goode?" Grimsby asked, trying to look imposing yet respectable as he imitated Auditors he had met in the past, though he had chosen to forgo their traditional white masks in favor of his glasses. The masks were for when things got ugly, and he expected today to be as banal as any other. Besides, he didn't care for the way he looked in one.

The man's face was smooth and shiny with sweat, but the circles around his eyes were deep and dark, cracked with more sleepless lines than the pavement outside. "Tentatively. Who's asking?"

"I am Auditor Grimsby," he said, still feeling a thrill of excitement at that particular pair of words, though it had slightly dulled over the last few weeks. Making house calls and riding his bike wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind a few months ago, when he received his badge, although it had been much more than he had expected before that.

Goode eyed Grimsby's outfit and scoffed. "A while to go until Halloween, kid. Come back when you fit in Daddy's suit."

He began to close the door, but Grimsby slid his foot in its path. He instantly regretted the decision as the man's idle strength nearly twisted his foot against the door's frame. Samuel Goode was a lot stronger than he looked, though Grimsby supposed most Therians must be.

He managed to choke his yelp into a more respectable grunt and drew his Department badge, a bifold of leather with a pentacle embedded in a silver shield within and his name below. "I'm afraid I'm a real Auditor, Mr. Goode," he said, trying to keep his voice straight over the pain of a likely stubbed toe. "I just need a moment of your time."

Goode looked at the badge in disbelief, then back at Grimsby. "If you're a real Auditor, where's your partner? I thought you guys never fly solo . . ."

Grimsby felt his stomach drop at the mention of a partner and bit back an unprofessional reply. Before he could come up with an appropriate substitute, however, Goode glanced past him and an unpleasant grin curled his face.

"Wait," he said, his smile wolfish, "did you ride a bike here?"

Grimsby tried to keep his face even but felt his fingers squeeze tight around the badge as he put it away. He half expected it to crumple in his hand like cheap plastic. "May I come in?"

Goode sighed, though a smirk still littered his face. "Fine, whatever, Mr. Auditor."

He opened the door wider and stepped aside. He wore a pair of stained cargo shorts and a T-shirt that had a sloppy, indecipherable logo on it, though it was of a style that looked to be for a heavy metal band. Now close to him, Grimsby could tell the odor he'd smelled outside had come from Goode himself-and was even more pungent up close. Grimsby clenched his jaw but managed to keep his face straight and avoid wrinkling his nose.

Who said he wasn't a professional?

He entered, though the house was so dark it took his eyes a moment to adjust. Clutter was collected against the baseboards to either side of the short hall before him. Discarded wrappers, old shoes, dirty laundry, all of it with the settled manner of having been left in place for quite a while. The wall to his right fell off to an arched doorway, with a darkened living room beyond filled with scattered cardboard boxes and piles of who knew what.

Grimsby felt a brief flare of disgust before remembering his own apartment had looked quite similar not too long ago.

What was quite different from his own abode, however, were the windows. Every pane of glass had been covered with layers of curtains, bedsheets held up by thumbtacks, and even glued-on tinfoil. The few threads of light that managed to stray their way inside shone in the drifting dust like crossbeams.

Goode must have noticed Grimsby examining the source of the dimness. "The light gives me a headache. It's part of my . . . condition," he said, "and no, I'm not a psychopath."

"Oh good, because that's exactly what a non-psychopath would say," Grimsby said, managing a smile. "No, Mr. Goode, I'm here because-"

"You're my new zookeeper?" he asked.

"Well-I wouldn't call it that. As you are a registered Therian, I'm here to ensure you're prepared for your coming period of mandatory asylum. I need to-"

Goode interrupted him in a stuffy voice. "'Make certain I am ready for a period of stay lasting no less than three days, beginning no later than twenty-four hours before the apex of the lunar cycle,' blah blah blah." He sighed bitterly, using his hand to mimic a sock puppet talking. "Yeah, kid, I've heard the speech before. Every month, actually, so yeah, I know why you're here. So, which is it?"

Grimsby frowned, uncertain if he had missed some context. "I'm sorry?"

"If you're here, that means you're on Department house-call duty. Which means you're either the new guy or you drew the short straw. So, which is it?"

"Well, I-" he began, standing up a little straighter.

"New guy, of course," Goode scoffed. "Listen up, new guy. I know the deal, okay? I've been going to the cage since I was thirteen. I haven't missed it once, and I'm not going to miss it this time."

Grimsby felt annoyance crawl into his jaw and prickle his scalp. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at the flippant attitude. Goode...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Ace
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593440439
• ISBN 13: 9780593440438
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 416
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Bear Family Records GmbH; 49474882160; info@bear-family.de; ; Grenzweg 1; Holste; 27729; Deutschland