“Are you sure about this?” My stomach turned as I played with the sleeves of my sweater, worrying a few loose threads between my fingertips.
Eastwood paced across the cramped room where we’d been locked away. “We’re in a bit of a pickle here, Rose. I don’t see any other way.
Read it now
“I really hope this artifact is worth all the hassle,” I remarked to my partner, Alma, as we climbed over a caved-in wall. “This maze of ruins is going to drive me crazy.”
“Oh, stop complaining. We’re getting close.”
“How can you tell? This place is so poorly designed.”
At that instant, the floor fell out,
I revved my motor and slipped out of park, checking the glowing digits of the clock on my nightstand. 2:59 a.m. I’d woken just in time. It’s tough to be a crime-solving teenage car. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a little sleep.
But I had a mystery to solve.
Theresa plopped into a chair and plugged her ears; she couldn’t help herself. But it made no difference. The sound came from within.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. Her husband, Malcolm, studied her, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “The ringing’s back?”
“Yeah.”
“You could go see another doctor—”
“No.”
His brother used to make voice memos every night, and now, three months after Justin’s fatal accident, Colbert still couldn’t sleep without them.
The time glared at him from the lockscreen of Justin’s old phone. He scrolled through a year’s worth of recordings until he found the one he’d left on last night.
“At least we caught it early.” I offer a box of tissues to Renee Halloway as we stand outside her son’s hospital room. When she doesn’t grab it, her husband John takes the box instead.
I hate giving bad news. It wrenches my stomach every time I have to say cancer.
The thick liquid coated Violet’s tongue.
They say that when a person loses one sense, the rest compensate. Although she never did figure out why her sense of taste exploded—figuratively speaking—after a bomb destroyed her hearing, killed Silas, and nearly killed her.
A small vibration tickled her fingers when Felix tapped the table.
Cool water rushed down Prince Edward Mackivoy’s throat, instantly reviving his parched mouth and spirits. It had taken him a week to cross the desert, and he had run out of water two days ago.
Grit still clung to the roof of his mouth, so Edward stuck his face back in the meadow stream
I think maybe you’ve had enough, Sergeant Maxwell.” My partner’s eyebrow quirked as I slung back my second shot.
“You’ll wish you’d had two soon enough, rook.” The bitter aftertaste of a good espresso was always the best part of my day. In a world where coffee grants superpowers, it’s important to stay caffeinated.
Gossip shouldn’t feel like a responsibility.
I didn’t want to be the one to tell Stephen, but duty came in odd packages, and he needed to know. So, I squared my shoulders and pushed open the touristy saloon-style doors.
Pausing just inside, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
Bounty hunter Lemuel Donovan tasted the whiskey in the air even before he heard a sharp rap on his door. He opened it to reveal deputy Thaddeus McKinsey, badge glinting in the setting sun.
“Rather early to be hitting the saloon, deputy,” growled Lemuel. “Or did you require some liquid courage before visiting?”
Harthan thumbed through the herbal encyclopedia and rubbed his fingers together. A familiar soft tingle crawled up his arm. It reminded him of his sister, Lyse, who had taught him to use his abilities, at least until their parents sold her—
“We’ve a job,” Braean said. “Let’s go.”
Harthan snarled at the old alchemist’s back
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