Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 159159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 796(@200wpm)___ 637(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Harold squeezed the trigger, firing in rapid succession, all along the wall where the voice seemed to be coming from. Each bullet leaving the chamber seemed to turn up the temperature of both the room and his weapon. Sweat broke out. Maybe it was the children and their incessant crying.
“David! Shut them the hell up!” He screamed it and wiped at the sweat dripping from his forehead with his arm. He had a holdout gun in his boot, and for some reason it felt like a brand pressed against his ankle.
“David can’t make them stop,” Alena said. “Only you can do that. David is dead. You wanted him dead. I heard your thoughts. You wanted to slice his throat so many times to shut him up. You thought he was a weak link, and you didn’t like him knowing Avery or you.”
Harold let off another round of bullets, nearly emptying his weapon into the wall. “How do you know these things?” he screamed. “David was a weasel. He would have given us up in a heartbeat if anyone caught him. Yeah, I wanted him dead. I talked to Avery a million times about it. So what? Come out where I can see you.”
Alena’s soft laughter could barely be heard above the crying children. They wailed constantly now, so many of them. “How can a conscience come out where you can see it? You barely hear me when I protest the things you’re doing.”
Harold whirled around and rushed to the door leading back to the sitting room. Before he grasped the doorknob, he hesitated and then tried to yank. The door refused to budge. The doorknob delivered another very hard jolt, the electricity running through his body, burning through him. He yelled and dragged his hand back. The other one, the hand with the gun, was burning now. So was his ankle where his holdout was.
Cursing, Harold hurried through the room to the other side. He put his hand near the door and immediately felt the electrical energy. He didn’t grab it. Instead, he whirled around and screamed at the voice. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to pay. They want you to pay. Can’t you hear them crying out for justice? You want that for them, don’t you, Harold?”
Her voice sounded so angelic. So pure. So reasonable. Harold found his gun hand coming up toward his head. Gasping, he shook his head and forced it toward the large plates of glass that made up the outside wall. The sunroom looked like a massive porch walled in with glass on three sides. To get out of it, he determined he would simply shoot out the panels. He began squeezing the trigger, shattering the glass.
Each bullet fired raised the temperature of the metal on his gun. His hand burned. He glanced down at the weapon and it glowed red orange in the dark. Startled, he yelped and let go. Inside his boot, he could see the same orange-red glow. His calf burned like a mother. He didn’t want to take the time to pull the gun from his boot. He just wanted away from those bawling, sniveling children and that voice that seemed to consume him.
Harold ran toward the glass panels, raised his arms to cover his face and leapt. He felt the glass shatter around him, go into him, dozens of pieces as he passed through. He hit the ground, rolled and stood up, looking back into the room and giving it the finger. He had gotten out. He reached for his cell phone to warn Avery. As he did so, he turned. Something jerked at his chest. He stared into the iciest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They looked like two twin crystals.
“Who are . . .” He staggered and looked down at his chest.
Frowning, he saw a handle sticking out of it. He went to his knees. “What is this?”
“The children you hurt send their regards, Harold,” Alena said. Her voice was detached, composed, serene even. She stepped back and walked away.
The main man has arrived. He’s driving right up to the front entrance now, Absinthe warned.
Ice and Storm immediately reacted, increasing the rain, dropping the temperature so every drop was icy and uncomfortable. That would ensure Avery would go straight through the front door and not go around back where Harold’s body could be discovered. Avery was dressed in a long black trench coat. He slammed the driver’s side door closed, took two running steps toward the front door, still under the canopy so he wasn’t getting wet, but he turned back.
Avery isn’t alone. He has a companion with him. Repeat. Avery isn’t alone. Second man is tall, maybe six foot two or three. Looks to be in excellent shape. Sending picture to Code to get ID right now.