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Informationen zum Autor Lisa McMann is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of dozens of books, including The Unwanteds series, the Wake trilogy, and her most recent novel, Clarice the Brave . She is married to fellow writer Matt McMann, and they have two adult children—her son is artist Kilian McMann, and her daughter is actor Kennedy McMann. Lisa spends most of her time in Arizona, California, and Vancouver BC, and loves to cook, read, and watch reality TV. Visit Lisa at lisamcmann.com or follow her on Twitter and Instagram @lisa_mcmann. Klappentext "The Forgotten Five become spies to uncover the corrupt President's schemes and bring the world one step closer to justice for all supernaturals"-- Leseprobe An Angry Man President Daniel Fuerte sat at his cluttered desk in the presidential office on the top floor of the Magdalia Palace. The morning sunshine reflected off the gold frame of a recently stolen painting on the wall. The glare gave him a mild headache after the long night. His face was haggard and his jaw unshaven, but his shiny black hair edged with gray at his temples appeared freshly groomed. He’d dozed on the plane ride back from Estero’s neighboring country, but he hadn’t slept enough, and he was ready to retire to his room for a few hours. When his desk phone rang, he sighed and picked it up. “Fuerte.” A panicked voice greeted him. “Dad, I’m down in the dungeon. There’s been a break-in overnight.” “What?” Fuerte’s eyes widened. His daughter, Sabine, ran his secret Supernatural Locator and Recruitment Operation in the palace control room. She also managed the guards—and their captive, Elena Golden. “The place is trashed, and they took Elena.” “ What? No. She’s gone ?” Fuerte leaned back in his leather-and-mahogany chair, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He pumped his fist against his forehead a couple times, then slammed it on the desk. “How?” he demanded. “We’ve got guards everywhere! There’s an iron fence surrounding us, for crying out loud!” He muttered some unsavory words under his breath. “Security and staff are being questioned,” Sabine went on. “After Elena was freed, they locked the on-duty officer inside the cell. He says it was done by . . . children. And something about a pig? I’m waiting to hear more about that.” Fuerte’s face darkened. “Didn’t you take care of those two kids the other night?” Sabine hesitated. “Well, we tried. But the operation was interrupted in the wheat tunnel, and . . . we lost them. We thought we scared them off for good. Nobody knew they were capable of this.” “ I knew.” The president shook his head in disgust. “Find out if those two were working alone or if they had help. And figure out who they are and where they came from. Maybe we can . . .” He didn’t finish the thought. “Never mind. I’ll be right there.” He set the phone down hard in its cradle and muttered an oath, then pressed both palms on the desk and stood up. He chugged the dregs of his coffee and grimaced at its lukewarm temperature. Then he grabbed his suit jacket and started for the elevator, slipping it on as he stepped inside. He straightened and tightened his necktie as the elevator descended. The door opened onto the main floor, and he headed for the door that led to the dungeon stairway. As he strode down the grand hall, lined with relics and priceless artifacts, he stopped short. A precious vase near the entrance to the dining room was missing. Had the intruders made off with that, too? Anger boiled up. But before he could process the implications of the theft, his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and studied the caller’s information with narrowed eyes. It was his journalist contact, Emil Blanco at Estero City News . Had he heard about the break-in already? A mere two minutes after the president was informed? Whoever t...
