“You’re about to see wonders none of your friends back home will believe.” The old sailor wiped his sweaty brow with a stained cloth. “Y-e-p.”
He dragged the word out to three distinct syllables, and Daryn gritted his teeth. That dingy, smelly codger danced daily on what nerves remained in Daryn’s control…
The Great Wall of China. Hadrian’s Wall. Their builders weren’t just trying to keep the enemy out. They were safeguarding what was within. Secrets of the night. Joy. Laughter.
Only a fool would leave the safety of his walled city to risk exposure and capture.
Which is why I should never have come to
The doorman of the Marriott Marquis drew the doors, revealing a grand crystal chandelier. I smoothed imaginary wrinkles from my royal blue cocktail dress—a far cry from my shabby barista’s apron.
I tucked a lock of my long, dark hair behind one ear. Just breathe. My black heels clicked unevenly across the threshold
Straightening her shoulders, Lani stepped into the chilly palace hallway. One last banquet. She could do this.
She remembered Lantern Festivals of old, giggling with her brothers as they stuffed themselves with sweet rice-ball soup and ran from one glittering event to the next. Now, after two weeks of festivities, she felt as empty
Well, this relic hunt sucked.
“Hurry up, Andy!” Louisa berated. “I don’t want to end up Swiss cheese because you stopped to read every footnote! I can’t hold this position forever!” She balanced on one foot, hands raised, struggling not to fall off the small pedestal and trigger whatever booby trap awaited the unworthy.
I perched in the trees with my flock, waiting for the land walkers to leave. The tourists had nicknamed our home Murder Island ever since we chose to inhabit it. My name is Maximillian, but my crow brothers called me Boss.
Twilight painted the sky orange and pink as the last two…
Lunar New Year was the best time to uncover secrets. Adon leaned on his broom and listened to firecrackers sputter in the courtyard. At midnight, the fireworks should cover any noise he made breaking into the inner sanctum.
That was the difficulty in sneaking further into the assassin-spy’s compound.
Inspector Gustav Ackerson removed his bowler hat and knelt next to the corpse. A boy of fourteen years stared at the nickelodeon’s plaster ceiling with glazed eyes. According to the night guardsman, the poor lad had snuck into the theater after hours and had been discovered lying on the floor next to a mutoscope.
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Every year it’s the same. On the twentieth day of January, I’m hustled into a room full of my captors—some of which are my size but with no basic manners—and forced to perform. Sure, I’m given some capelin as payment during these exercises, but the treat is poor compensation for the humiliation…
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You might be wondering why I’m in an alleyway holding a blowtorch, about to cut into this steel door. Perhaps I should take you back to the days spent amidst flickering fluorescent bulbs, drab gray uniforms, and one-room holding cells. And no, I’m not talking about my old high school.
The Overseers call it…
I haven’t slept in three days.
I don’t dare. My chin quivers. “God help me not to slip.”
The accursed journal lies on the floor where I flung it last night. It’s skillfully bound, with crackled leather and twisted knotwork burned into the cover. A cover that should remain forever closed.
The back of the cab was warm and smelled vaguely of cigarettes. Morgan held Shauna’s hand, tears falling quietly in the darkness on the drive home.
Only emptiness greeted him when he opened the apartment door. He shuffled inside, dimly aware of his wife slipping off her shoes and wandering to the bathroom.
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