July 10, 2040
A night like tonight would have shaken me as a rookie cop, but it didn’t seem to faze Aaron Verde. I engaged autopilot on the patrol car. My arms still ached from holding back the teenager. He wanted to kill his father. I couldn’t blame him, given the bruises on his
The white door swung open before I could knock. Agent Hutchinson waved me in. “Welcome to the team, Ms. Dying Words Detective.”
“That’s Detective Fernanda Alves.” I weaved my way through the dozen other agents squeezed into the commandeered construction trailer near the zoo’s entrance. “Let me see the footage.”
I wasn’t talking
The shoebox rattles. A crystalline scratching sound tinkles inside the worn cardboard. I clutch it in my aching, bandaged fingers as I stand trembling in the yard of the old livery stable at the edge of the village.
It’s my last option.
If he can’t help me, no one can.
One step at a time
Waves sloshed below the old man as he sat at the pier’s edge, waiting. A face emerged from the sea, her hair as white as the foam on the wave crests.
“It is good to see you, Mr. Crispin. You have the boot?”
Puzzled as he always was during these exchanges, Crispin held it out.
How long have I slept? No matter the amount, it’s never enough.
I rise from my damp bench, searching the edge of the bridge ahead of me.
Why are the nights always so cold when they come here?
Sure enough, there stands a thin, forlorn girl in a windbreaker—useless in this frigid air.
“9-1-1, state your emergency.”
“Hi, I think I’ve lost my charge,” Bethany said, shoving aside the clothes in the coat closet.
“Your charge, ma’am?”
“Yes. I was hired as an in-home caregiver to Ms. Rose Carterwood.” Bethany closed the closet door and darted back down the green carpeted hallway. “I went to the bathroom
Ever since his first death day—the day he’d seen his parents slaughtered—Vel had possessed a fascination with mortality. As a result of what he’d witnessed, he had two options: either go absolutely bonkers from the atrocities he’d seen that day or view each death as a celebration. Infuse some humor to the occasion,
Read it now
“Mirror, Mirror, in my hand—”
I cringe as the incantation rings throughout my prison.
“Who’s the fairest in the land?”
Against my will, I’m dragged through mists and shadows to the Glass. On the other side stands my captor, Queen Claudia of Grenvue.
I clench my incorporeal fists, and my stomach roils
“You can’t change anything, Tom. You know that.”
I nodded. No one could fight the laws of time travel.
“No matter how much you’re tempted.”
“I know!” I forced my breath to steady. Jacob was helping me, against all rules. All reason. He was not the enemy. “Sorry.” I swallowed. “No matter what,
If you’ve never had the misfortune of being tasked with finding a needle in a haystack, allow me to summarize the experience for you in four words: I’d rather eat dirt.
Regrettably, I don’t have that option.
Case 43b has been my strangest yet. The file includes a black-and-white photograph of a
Aislinn never thought she’d see Travis inside her greenhouse again.
Clutching her amethyst necklace, she addressed the prison guard accompanying Travis. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“The prisoner asked to see you before the trial, Dr. Groves,” the guard said.
Sweat beaded against the back of Aislinn’s neck, an unfortunate side
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This is Day 1 of the Heymon Project. The traps are set. My colleagues laugh at me for entertaining the notion that any heymons have managed to sneak into our woods, but we’ll see. According to my research, they are curious and adventurous creatures. I have little doubt they’re
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