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.
“I’ve got a good feeling about you, Planet 77.”
My heart thundered with the anticipation of facing the water-hungry nightmare that had buried our planet. Our ship slowed as we breached the skies of Earth.
“Don’t forget the cloaking device.” Jones reached over my shoulder and flipped a toggle. “I’d rather not be deified this time.”
Hendria looked around the corner, waiting for the guards to pass around the temple wall. She took a breath, then counted to ten. She’d executed everything perfectly up to this moment; now all those months of meticulous planning seemed to be paying off. She’d memorized every rotation and path of the guards.
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The black owl spoke into Vjun’s ear. “Are you sure you can do this?”
The vampire hunter rolled his eyes. “For the hundredth time, yes, I’m sure.”
He crept up a hill through dark trees, making his way by moonlight, Aryana perched on his shoulder. He held a crossbow, already loaded with a bolt dipped in fae blood.
By Deborah Bainbridge I can’t believe I landed my red breeches in detention again. “Dia dhuit!” Mrs. O’Grady, a plump fiery-haired lady, walks past a row of my classmates and removes my green top hat by its gold buckle. “Third time this year, isn’t it, Skylar? You’re seventeen and as mischievous as the next leprechaun.
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“I got nothing.”
My grin was snarky because I meant that both ways: what you say when you have absolutely nothing to add to a conversation. And literally. Because I had no re-memory.
My Eternal Counselor, Mirah, looked distressed. “Please, Ms. Iandolo…”
“Ronni,” I corrected. “Since we’ll be here a while, might as well be
The war had ended. Our side had lost. We were refused the rights we’d fought for. The government had cheated us, and I needed revenge. It was rash, but I didn’t care. People already saw us as traitors, but maybe this plot would change their perspective. Somehow. I assembled a group of…
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Philinok knew all about inspiring fear, but feeling it was foreign. It nullified his advantage, which enraged him. Angering him further was the rain that continued to pelt his head like stones.
Use that. Channel the fear and the anger into fighting fury–if you want to survive.
What should have looked like a field had become
I’m late.
My sandals slap against the cobblestones as I hasten to my post. Scents of olives, fish, and fresh bread assault my nostrils. My stomach rumbles.
I stop at Clelia’s stand, a simple board set atop old barrels. She has the best takeaway food of anyone in the city.
A light scratching within the cavernous walls sent new goosebumps racing down Aniya’s arms. She couldn’t see anything in the shadows, only heard unsettling noises, followed by a slow, barely audible dripping of water. She strained her eyes as if squinting would provide clarity, but when the cave remained resolutely dark,
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Nadia had slept three nights in the house she’d inherited from her grandmother, and every night she had the same dream. Nightmare, really. She heard crying coming from the attic, and when she went to investigate, she found a three-foot-tall Japanese woman trapped in a wooden crate. Then the dream shifted,
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Dr. Byron Stoneburner inserted the bronze snake into a satchel as German bullets whizzed overhead. He secured the latch on the bag and mumbled a prayer.
Courage. Or Jack’s dead.
A disheveled officer nudged his arm. “You’re serious?”
Byron tightened his helmet chinstrap and placed a muddy boot on the trench ladder.
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