Chapter XXV

The Mansion was too quiet. Olive hovered by one of the rooms in the western wing with a bundle of plastic trashbags in hand, peering just inside the door. Slate had left behind more of himself than some of the Mansion’s other tenants, even though he’d usually been seen stalking its halls. Discarded liquor bottles, … Read more

Chapter XXIV

The bitter scent of burning toast hit the back of Ansel’s nose and he woke with a start. Disoriented, he stretched his arm out and cracked his knuckles into a wall, scraping off skin which healed in an instant. He dumbly dragged his fingers over the thickly painted plaster before pushing himself up off the … Read more

Chapter XXI

A Hunter’s body was not his own, not truly, not once the Legacy had been passed on to him and he was Honor-bound to protect the poor lost souls of the world. Since inheriting his power, Hector never slept, never ate, never had a moment’s peace to himself without his Honor first giving its assent. … Read more

Chapter XX

A figure slunk along the starkly illuminated corridor of Odette General’s topmost westerly wing, dark curls bouncing behind her in a low ponytail. Her face was obscured by a thin surgical mask (It’s flu season, please protect yourselves and others! the sign at the entrance to the wing had explained) and her body was wrapped … Read more

Chapter XIX

Muddy water splashed up onto Ansel’s and Slate’s pants cuffs as they trudged through the waterlogged streets of downtown Odette. Alone in the dark together, Slate had been complaining about nothing and everything for the past half hour. “Total bullshit,” he repeated for the hundredth time. “Two people to take care of one lunatic in … Read more

Chapter XVIII

The least offensive ringtone on Hector’s phone was something the developers had titled Mountain Rush, but he’d come to develop a pavlovian hatred for the tune. It chimed in his ear, jolting him out of a dead sleep and his phone vibrated against his keys on his nightstand. Fumbling in his half-awake state, he tapped … Read more

Chapter XVII

Sucking down another cigarette as if it could remove the memory of Baptiste’s blood in his mouth, Ansel’s gaze was settled on the stretch of highway before him. Glistening with the sheen of the night’s earlier rain, it had transformed into an inky black river reflecting the yellowed streetlights above.  A pair of headlights cut … Read more