Sadie gives herself sixty seconds to decide the course of the rest of her life.
Follow the scorched trail or forget her entire investigation.
Arson investigator Detective Sadie Jenkins has spent six months following every lead on the arsons in the Northern National Parks. Though she’s sacrificed countless nights of sleep investigating the
Lyle bit his lip, heart pounding as he scanned the waters for any sign of police boats or security. This trip was a stupid idea. Why had he even agreed to return? He knew the dangers.
Flustered, he ripped the sunglasses from his face and rubbed his burning eyes. Foolish sentiment had clouded
I’m tossed from the charter plane at two thousand feet, plummeting toward the Earth without a parachute. If gravity proves true, I’ll skewer the Alaskan treetops in seconds.
A week in the remote wilderness had seemed like a good idea. It meant time to clear my head. Campfires and hunting. Reflection and recovery
The engine in my mecha whined as its knees strained, taking the last step onto the icy rise. In the grand view of cold white horizons, the Aurora shimmered vivid green overhead. Despite unceasing mortal peril, the endless ice had her consolations.
None of which made it worth it to me.
Pushing off the embankment, I crouch low in the hollow craft, hoping the reeds cover my retreat. I shift the bundle in my arms, all the while my heart thumps in my ears.
I’d built this boat with a single purpose. To escape. Taking something with me wasn’t part of the plan.
“Ready when you are, Cap’n Muldoon.”
My first mate O’Hara squints expectantly through his good eye, the other covered with a black patch. The crew of the Muirgen clusters behind him, waiting for my signal.
Our target, the whaling ship Pawtuxet, flounders on the choppy gray sea, her mast shattered by a well-placed
Waves lapped against the ship’s hull as we eased as close to the island’s rocky coast as we dared. Even with a full moon, I couldn’t see any of the island’s inhabitants—but I could hear them.
“It’s so beautiful,” someone sighed.
Swinging around, I found a sailor walking in a trance
The calm night shattered into blood-curdling screams.
Lo-en jolted awake at the base of the old spine tree acting as her cover. The screams echoed through the village beyond the forest’s edge as a family awakened to learn it was their house, their loved one that had been chosen as that night’s sacrifice.
“In the tales of them that came before, there’s talk of the otherworldly, spectral kite.” Pop’s cybernetic eye stared down the empty barrel of his gun. The rest of the parts stretched across his lap. “The settlers said you could see clean through the bird’s skin, past its bones, straight to its beating heart.
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The docks stink of fish and cigars. During my early days as a Magickal Protections Officer, I used to retch almost daily. Now, the stench merely reminds me of what it hides—the light, sage scent of drakonixes.
I stalk down the creaky wooden planks, gripping Amaka’s leash as she slithers in front of
You adjust your tie, unable to help first-day flutters. The nondescript Serpent & Dove offices are paradoxically soothing yet disorienting.
Trying to walk at a brisk and assured pace, you head toward the office you’re to share with your partner. Your desk is opposite the door, clean and without character. The other desk is
“Coppelia Potts, full-time Nightmare Hunter and part-time… babysitter.” Coppelia sighed as she watched the snow fall outside. “I’ve thwarted mummies and captured magical menaces. I think I’m a little bit overqualified to babysit a toddler.”
Wolfgang Potts shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m glad we aren’t in mortal danger for once.
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