Blood Moon Eclipse (The Shadow Lands Book 2)
Page 25
Ringer didn’t accept his proffered hand. Instead, he stared at Frank with appraising eyes.
“I’m told you’re with the Feds. If this is about the Hangman killer case…” Ringer said.
Frank quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that, Detective. I merely need a few moments of your time.”
“You picked a bad night for it, Mr. Dubin,” Ringer told him. “It’s a full moon out there this evening, and the crazies are coming out of the woodwork.”
“Crazies?” Frank asked.
“I just locked up a guy who thinks he’s a werewolf.” Ringer sighed. “We get a couple of them every year.”
“And is he?” Frank asked with a grin.
Ringer gave Frank a careful look as he said, “What do you mean is he? Of course not. There’s no such thing as werewolves, Mr. Dubin.”
“Anything’s possible, Detective Ringer.” Frank smirked.
“Look, I really don’t have time for this.” Ringer shook his head. “Either get on with what you’ve come to see me about, or go back to wherever you came from. I’ve got enough on my hands tonight without you.”
“Is there somewhere a touch more private we could talk?” Frank asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Ringer answered reluctantly. “This way.”
Ringer led Frank into a nearby office and shut the door behind them. He walked around the room’s desk and plopped into the chair there.
“Have a seat,” Ringer instructed him, gesturing at the chair in front of the desk.
Frank took it. He stared across the desk at Ringer.
“Well?” Ringer urged.
“Detective Ringer, I work for an organization that has reason to believe you have the capacity to be much more than the mere street detective you are now,” Frank started.
“Hold on a sec.” Ringer leaned forward where he sat. “You’re here to offer me a job?”
“Something like that.” Frank grinned.
“I’m not interested,” Ringer said gruffly and started to get up. Frank’s next words knocked him off his feet, causing him to collapse back into his chair as if he’d been gut-punched.
“We know about your power, Detective Ringer.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ringer said, though it was clear he was lying.
“There’s no reason to be ashamed of your abilities, Detective,” Frank assured him, “and what the two of us are about to discuss will never leave this room.”
“I think it’s time you left now, Mr. Dubin,” Ringer growled.
“Far from it,” Frank said. “We’re just getting started, Detective Ringer.”
Ringer sprung from his seat and started for the office’s door. “You can either show yourself out, or I can have one of the officers out there help you back to the street.”
Frank left his own seat and moved to block Ringer’s path. “I have a gift myself, Detective Ringer.”
Shaking his head, Ringer started to shove Frank aside. Frank took him by the arm.
“My gift is that I can sense the powers of people like yourself, Detective,” Frank told him. “You can’t deny your power to me. I can see it in my mind, glowing like a bright, shining star in an otherwise dark void.”
“You’re crazy,” Ringer snapped, shaking free of Frank’s hold.
“You need to listen to me,” Frank warned. “I know about what happened to your parents. I mean what really happened, and how you survived.”
Frank’s declaration stopped Ringer in his tracks.
“You don’t know crap!” Ringer shouted as Frank continued to stare at him.
“Vampires are very real, Detective Ringer.” Frank cocked his head to look up at Ringer as he spoke. “The organization I work for…We deal with them, and other monsters, every day.”
Ringer stabbed a finger into Frank’s chest. It hurt, as Ringer thumped it repeatedly against him. “I don’t know who you are, Mr. Dubin, but I’ve had enough of your crap. Now take your crazy and get the hell out of my life. Do I make myself clear?”
The pictures on the wall of the office vibrated as Ringer raged at Frank. Frank’s smile grew wider.
“You’re a TK, aren’t you?” Frank asked.
“I don’t even know what that is!” Ringer bellowed at him.
“You can move objects with your mind, Detective Ringer. We call that TK. It’s a term that denotes you have telekinetic abilities. They’re how you saved yourself from the vampire who murdered your family when you were thirteen.”
Ringer said nothing. He stood, shaking with fear and rage.
“You’re not alone, Detective Ringer,” Frank told him. “There are many others in this world with powers like your own. As I’ve said, I have one myself, though it’s not as powerful or as physical in nature, as your own. I urge you to have a seat, so we can talk about this a little more. I highly doubt your captain would be as understanding of your gift as I and my employer are if it should, say, become public knowledge.”
“Is that a threat?” Ringer snarled.
Frank shook his head. “Certainly not. Now if you would…?” Frank gestured for Ringer to return to the chair behind the desk.
Ringer did so, though he clearly wasn’t happy about it.
“There’s so much to tell you, Detective Ringer; I’m afraid I don’t even know where to begin,” Frank said.
“Then why don’t you start at the beginning, and let’s get this over with,” Ringer said with a frown.
“Right then.” Frank chuckled. “Let’s do just that.”
* * * * *
Get “Psi-Mechs, Inc.” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DKCCQJZ/.
Find out more about Eric S. Brown and “The Darkness War” at:
https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/eric-s-brown/.
* * * * *
The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of the Turning Point:
A Time to Die
___________________
Mark Wandrey
Available Now from Blood Moon Press
eBook, Paperback, and Audio
Excerpt from “A Time to Die:”
An hour later, Ken tried to drink some of the water and eat some of the food Erin had left for him, only to vomit it up moments afterwards. His head swam with pain and confusion, and sweat poured from his forehead despite the cool evening breeze. Suddenly he stumbled to his feet, not knowing why, completely unable to concentrate. “Wha—what?” he choked, spinning around and searching for the source of the disturbance with blurred vision.
He heard something behind him, and he spun again to find only darkness. “Damn you,” he snarled and took a step in that direction, only to fall over a root in the gloom and sprawl in the dense pine needles. His mind exploded in lights, pain, and voices. Whispers and screams, thoughts and ideas he could not understand. “Stop it, stop it, stop…stop…STOP!” The last word came out as an anguished wail from the depths of his soul that echoed through the woods and down to the Rio Grande thousands of feet below. He shuddered in the brush, and the man that was Ken succumbed.
Small animals and night birds flitted around for a time, sniffing the air and trying to sense if the man had become food. But after a few minutes, it was standing again, wildly searching the darkness. It noticed the birds and scurrying creatures, and it shook its head and snarled. The snarl turned into a clipped scream, more visceral than the previous one. It turned toward a narrow goat trail that descended the cliff.
The descent would have terrified Ken and likely sent him plummeting to the rocks below. The creature that now walked in his skin, though, felt no fear and held close to the sharp rocks with single-minded, painless determination. By the time it reached the river, its hands were torn nearly to the bone in several places. It paid no mind to the blood-dripping wounds as it scanned the opposite riverbank. Moonlight illuminated the far shore where it saw a group of people, all moving slowly to the west. A little moan escaped its lips, and its teeth gnashed as
it jerked forward and plowed into the water.
* * * * *
Get “A Time to Die” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0787VQ8RJ/.
Find out more about Mark Wandrey and “A Time to Die” at:
http://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/mark-wandrey/.
* * * * *