NOW LIVE! UNPREDICTABLE MAGIC by Faith Hunter.
About the Book
Witches Angelina and Evan Everhart-Trueblood take a case that spirals out of control until the whole city is at risk in this exciting new novel from New York Times bestselling author Faith Hunter.
Angelina Everhart-Trueblood and her brother Evan run Everhart Investigations, a PI firm in Chattanooga that solves paranormal crimes committed by supernatural beings. When their new client wants help finding her friend, who supposedly disappeared during a reception at Angie’s aunt Jane’s winter residence, things get . . . complicated.
The client is not who she appears to be, and demons strike the city for the first time since the Witch War. On top of that, evidence is pointing toward the involvement of an overly ambitious vampire—who just happens to be Angie’s ex-husband.
As Angie and Evan team up with CPD, they will have to dig deep into their magical reserves—and rely on some friends in high places—to rid Chattanooga of the danger creeping into their city.
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EXCERPT:
Angie
The music was so heavy the bass reverberated in my chest cavity. The lead singer of Kegs and Boots’s house band, BloodSin-a vamp who considered himself a heartthrob-had hit an oddly off-key note three times now. It was weird enough to make it impossible to relax fully, to close my eyes and sink into the music and just freaking let go, which I really, really needed after the crazy week and the queen’s reception.
People assumed being goddaughter to the Dark Queen of the fangheads was exciting, and sometimes, rarely, it was. But typically, being royalty was tedium: shaking hands, smiling until my cheeks ached, making small talk, and dancing ancient gavottes with five-hundred-year-old vamps. All that, while wearing a sparkly dress and five-inch heels for five hours straight.
Eardrum-busting rock music usually made all that better, but Labaka’s fourth off-key note made my eyes pop open, which was why I saw the man approach our empty table, circle it, and walk away. I didn’t reclose my eyes.
Our drink goblets and flutes were empty. I hadn’t seen the man drop anything into a glass. My arms over my head, my body swaying to the beat, I turned my back to the band, keeping him in sight. Good looking, well-coiffed, he wandered the room by a circuitous route, stopping at a table full of men to clap one guy on the back, give a fist bump to another. Friendly guy. Knew some of the regulars. A moment later, he bent over a table full of women, attempting to flirt. The women waved him off, laughing. He left with a smirk that promised he’d be back. Idiot.
Or dangerous.
Deep inside, something whispered dangerous.
My precog gift or simple paranoia? Which one? Was the guy about to actually do something bad, or was he just a guy with the potential to do something bad? Maybe both. He moved on to chat up two women at a solo table. I didn’t have to be a witch to know the two were together and he was wasting his time, but he didn’t give up.
Precog or paranoia-my life litany since I was a kid. I’d once known which was which, back when I had an honest-to-God guardian angel, a vampire knight in shining armor, and unlimited witch power. Now, not so much. Being grown up, single again after a bad marriage, and a royal “princess by decree” wasn’t all popcorn and lollipops.
In the crowd, I found Corry, KeeKee, and Lissa, the girls I’d gone clubbing with. Safe. Or they should have been. That not-quite-precog nudged me again.
I didn’t close my eyes and kept Mr. Smarmy firmly in view. When the dance number ended, I dropped my arms and slipped a hand into a pocket, gripping a small labradorite duck.
The half-inch carved duck had been given to me at the start of my freshman year of college by my Aunt Liz, a stone witch. University was far behind me, but I never discarded an amulet that had been permanently imbued with a working, keeping them charged on one of the stone batteries Aunt Liz had made me, taking useful amulets with me when I was away from home. There was a hole drilled in the duck’s head so it could be attached to a necklace or bracelet, but I no longer wore my amulets in public. I couldn’t easily hide them under the glamour I wore while out clubbing, and keeping my identity as Angelina Everhart-Trueblood, the Dark Queen’s goddaughter and a princess, secret, was the only way I got to go out and have a little fun.
It was different at work. Everhart Investigations Firm relied on the name recognition from both witches and the vamps to bring in new customers. The hypocrisy didn’t elude me, though the double standards’ sour taste in the back of my throat had decreased over the years.
Tonight, I was thoroughly glamoured in multi-green: eyes, spiky braided green wig, clothing that looked like leaves, even a green tint to my skin. My amulets were hidden in lead-lined pockets, a vamp-killer strapped to my thigh. The witch princess had been replaced by Baby, my club name.
Excerpted from Unpredictable Magic by Faith Hunter Copyright © 2026 by Faith Hunter. Excerpted by permission of Ace. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Author Bio: Faith Hunter is the New York Times bestselling author of the Jane Yellowrock series, the Soulwood series, the Rogue Mage series, and the Junkyard series.
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