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Sentinel Lost (Book 5)
How many supernaturals does it take to screw in a lightbulb? For this particular case, way more than Kyle McKinley has backing her up.
When she stumbles upon a dark museum, missing artwork, and a dead security guard, Kyle and her team are thrust into a new mystery. One involving demons. But not your run-of-the-mill mill demons—realm demons. Tougher, scarier, and banned from earth, they are escaping the realm and wreaking havoc in Cleveland, Ohio, of all places.
Now the Feds have shown up, and Kyle has to deal with the one person she prayed she would never see again. Dalton. How can she conceal the truth of their past—which she erased from his memory—without jeopardizing the case? Especially when the Key of Knowledge is part of the mystery. The same Key that almost cost Dalton his sanity and is now threatening hers.
Kyle was just starting to get her life back together again with Griffin at her side, and now the Fates are forcing her to choose. But when a demon apocalypse looms on the horizon, her only choice is to embrace the Key to save the world, regardless of what it might cost her.
Awards:
2016 Bookseller’s Best Award Winner for Paranormal Romance
2016 PRISM 2nd Place for Light Paranormal
2016 Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence finalist in Mystery/Suspense
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
How many supernaturals does it take to screw in a lightbulb? In this particular case, way more than I had backing me up.
I walked around the outside of the Cleveland Museum of Art. Even though the pole lights in the parking lot were on, reflecting eerily in the puddles, the inside of the building was pitch dark.
And the museum was never dark.
I pulled Stanley, my .9 mm, out of his holster and clicked off the safety. I didn’t need supernatural senses to know something was hinky.
Damn. This was supposed to be a quick drive-by. Misha was so going to owe me for this one. He’d detected some sort of energy surge on his equipment. Go check it out, Kyle. We’ll be right behind you, Kyle. Ugh. Normally Misha’s energy spikes amounted to nothing.
But then, when could I rely on anything being normal?
I reached for my phone to find out how far he, Jean Luc, and Talia were from my location. Before I could call, a loud thump made me slip into the shadows and then slink along the side of the building until I reached the back.
A metal door slammed open, and a huge man darted down the stone steps, his footfalls echoing across the lagoon in front of us.
Come on. Give me something, big guy. Are you a norm or a supe? I hesitated for a second. If he was a human burglar, I had no jurisdiction here. Screw it. He was getting away, and my gut told me to take a chance.
“Freeze!” I yelled, walking into the light of the full moon and aiming Stanley at the guy.
He jerked to a halt, turned toward me and stared. His eyes glowed like lighthouse beacons. Supe it is. Now we’re talking.
“Bureau of Supernatural Relations. Hands where I can see them,” I barked while I moved closer.
He stood there glowering.
“Did you hear me? Hands up!”
He raised them slowly, and I stepped closer. He clenched his right fist, and I gasped. Even though he was several feet away, invisible fingers clamped around my wrist like a vise. I tried to yank out of his hold. He frowned at my resistance, and as he closed his left fist, I aimed and shot. He howled, clutching his left shoulder. When he pulled his hand away, blood ran down his arm. Green blood.
What. The. Hell?
He flung his right arm outward, and Stanley flew from my grip. Then he raised his hand, palm down, and I dangled in the air, my feet jerking beneath me in a futile attempt to touch the ground. His upper lip crooked up like a demented Elvis. He studied me for a moment like I was a lab experiment.
This was what I got for listening to my gut. My stupid, stupid, gut.
AE Jones 