Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) by Robert III (great books for teens .txt) 📗

“Treece’s team landed on the ship. They reached the bridge and were rebuffed by the Turned before they retreated to the hangar. Most have suffered bite wounds, and we should see the effects of the venom very soon.”

“They were the last threat. That’s the good news,” Moreci said. “What’s the bad news?”

“Reports of something like gunfire were heard in the upper maintenance decks not too long ago. Would you like to send a small team to investigate?”

Moreci stood silent and looked outside. His oxygen tanks hummed along with the engines of the ship, both of his hands tapping the windowsill.

He finally shook his head. “I’m not going to worry about a lone crewman with limited ammunition. We don’t have the resources. Speaking of which, what are the current numbers of passengers and crew?”

“Two hundred were Turned and are roaming the ship. Another one hundred were killed and thrown overboard. That leaves about two hundred crew and passengers remaining in the grand hall, sir.”

“Release some passengers into the ship.” Moreci smiled. “That should give the Turned something to do in the meantime. And when we get to Chicago, we’ll prepare the grand finale.”

Cavin left, and Moreci noticed Veiul staring at the floor.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

She looked up at him with doleful eyes.

He stepped closer, embracing her before lifting her chin. “I know you were supposed to eliminate Treece’s team back in his mansion. But things change, and we must make our adjustments. I would rather have you by my side than dead.”

“Fang killed Trevin,” Veiul said. “Took his head clean off. That was my fault, too.”

“And she’s gone. We haven’t seen her since,” Moreci said. “Besides, we still have our man embedded in Treece’s team. He’ll make sure everything goes according to plan. Within a few hours, we’ll reach our destination and you’ll be by my side as we introduce these people to a new god and a new way of life.”

Chapter 21

Upper maintenance decks

Dawn’s Edge

She breathed him in...

Ronan’s cologne and sweat became the scent of evil, of betrayal, of madness. Her back arched as the scalpel raced down her chest. Thin trickles of blood spread down her sides. She pulled against the restraints until her skin tore. He set the scalpel aside, ignoring her muffled screams.

“Let’s see what kind of power you have.” He gingerly tugged at her skin—and then stopped.

“I have an idea. What if we change things?” He sat in the dark, tapping a finger scalpel against his chin. She writhed, struggling to exist.

“What if tonight were not a quest for resolution but rather a challenge between rivals? Because like it or not, Sherlyn, you’re my nemesis. You certainly have unrivaled power over me. It’s true, you do. I never put a ring on a woman’s hand before. Wouldn’t even consider it. Then you came along, and I felt weightless in your touch, your gaze, your smile. Your eyes captured my heart, and I didn’t even know I had a heart. I mean, do you know how many women I’ve cut open? And I’m not even talking about the ones they found back in Whitechapel. Those weren’t women, just working-class beings.

“But I digress. All you did was walk into the room and make eyes with me, and my palms went all sweaty. That is raw, unadulterated power. And what’s worse is you never knew you carried it. So naive. So let’s run with this idea and see where it goes. What if you could be more powerful than either of us imagined?”

He nodded, staring at the ceiling, light mumbles escaping his lips, before moving to her side. His eyes were dark holes staring into hers.

“Remember the time you discovered the killer of that woman in the alley was her own brother? And you had so little information. It was his shoe imprint in her blood, wasn’t it? You followed the little dog, remember? The little dog was licking the blood all the way up to the brother’s house. And then to prove it, you bluffed him in front of the police, said you saw how he used his left hand to murder her and he surrendered. The police thought you were clever, but they told you to mind your business. Tsk, tsk. Idiots.”

“You enjoy untying the knots of enigmas, don’t you? Finding joy in discovering clues in the dead. You seem a natural at it, and as you can see, I’m a natural at creating crime scenes. So let’s see who’s the more powerful between the two of us.

“Come find me, Sherlyn. And I will leave you breadcrumbs of viscera and goblets of sanguine fluid. Yes?”

He removed a small box from his jacket, giving her a cold, reassuring smile as he held a sewing needle and black thread.

“Hold still, dear.” His hands worked swiftly and soundlessly, suturing the gaping wound in a matter of minutes. He tied off the end of the thread before cutting it with his teeth and ran a finger along the dark red line with salve. After inspecting his work, he flashed his white teeth, the same smile he’d used many times while they were together. He leaned in close.

“I have one rule.” He held up a finger. “Tell anyone—the police or other law enforcement—and I will go into hiding. You will never, ever find me. Ever. But I will allow you to join the police force and use their resources. Stretch your boundaries. Work with others, put those brilliant skills to work and show them how moronic they are. You’d enjoy it.”

He leaned in and kissed her fevered head before tapping her long wound. “This will heal over time, and then you can pursue me, my sweet. Until then, I’ll be leaving bodies in my wake. Hope you find me soon.”

He stood, tousling her hair, smiling his smile.

Coyle jolted awake and grabbed her chest, opening her eyes to a dark blue. Soft light filtered down and highlighted the edges of fixtures, pipes and crates, but nothing