1st person POV

She’d called me around 11pm, somehow knowing I was still awake. She’d said she just needed to see me if I wasn’t too worn out or too busy with other things. I wasn’t so I went to her, not knowing what to expect. They say you should expect the unexpected but then you’re always caught off guard for the things that are really unexpected. So I expected nothing, it was safer for myself and anyone else involved.

She greeted me at the door, arms sliding around my shoulders uncharacteristically. I said her name softly and she told me to hush. She didn’t want me to talk; she wanted me to hold her. So I did, sliding my own arms around her waist as I backed her into the room, closing the door with my foot.

Her long brown...   read more »

I was resting in a very large bed, with several large pillows, a newspaper and a glass of spring water on a bedside table. None of it was making me feel any better, however, and in fact I was becoming greatly frustrated by the whole thing. It had been two days since Aloysius Pendergast had saved me from the clutches-greatly skilled and terrible though they be—of his brother. In that whole time, I had been salved and soothed and treated like a queen on her throne. By his servant.

Not once in the entire two days had Pendergast himself been within spitting distance of me. He’d carried me to a hospital, whisked me off to a private flight, physically carried me from plane to car to apartment, laid me on the bed and then—poof! Vanished. It was enough to give a girl a complex, considering what we’d been through and how...   read more »

A light scrim of mist drew across the full moon. Most of the streetlights were out, and driving down the back street felt like being at the bottom of the ocean — inky dark, dank, details obscured by drifting fogbanks.

D'Agosta spotted a lone figure lounging under a working streetlamp and let off the gas pedal, tapping the brake lights in code as the unmarked cruiser slowed.

It was a shitty job, but the mayor had been making a lot of noise about "cracking down" on prostitution since the latest killings. D'Agosta didn't for one second think the crackdown would make any difference. Sure, the streets would be empty for a while — at least, until the heat was off — but the streetwalkers were just taking their business indoors. Only the brave and the desperate were out tonight.

He had volunteered for street-sweeping partly because he knew damn...   read more »

I didn’t have long to wait. I’m sure Aloysius’ (how funny to think of him with a first name!) cell phone is in a single-digit dial position on his brother’s phone, because that’s the only explanation for why those two didn’t trip over each other in the lobby. I’d just gotten the sheets changed, mangled ones in a trash bag—not even I was sure I’d try to bleach those clean—when a soft knock sounded at the suite’s door.

After a final check of the bedroom to make sure everything was reasonably tidy, and deciding to leave the comforter where it was on the floor, I gingerly made my way out to the mini-foyer. Not being quite the fool I seem at times, I checked through the peephole before removing the chain and turning the doorknob. Tall, pale and handsome, Pendergast lounged against the frame, face blank of any emotion beyond well-bred...   read more »

At first glance, the setting may have looked romantic. The thought occurred to Special Agent Cady as she surveyed the remains of dinner at the small table in her kitchen: chop sticks set down after eating their fill of take-out Thai food; a small porcelain pot of green tea still warm and fragrant; red linen napkins to further accent the Asian flavor of dinner, along with a petite arrangement of unknown blossoms —at least unknown to Cady— that he had bought to grace the table. Even the lights were dim, and three well-used candles flickered tiredly together at the end of the table. The man who sat across from her, white-blond hair occasionally highlighted in the candlelight, expensive tailored suit, silk handkerchief arranged perfectly in his breast pocket, and one slim, elegant, long-fingered hand thoughtfully tapping the table as he looked at her, was every bit the well-bred, well-heeled suitor....   read more »

I remember waking cold, wet, shaking all over. And pain. Confusion. Something horrible lurked just beneath the surface of my mind, looming toward realization. Something so horrible that I wouldn’t be able to...

It hit me suddenly. Pendergast, intent on freeing me, trying to accomplish that and watch all the doors and corners at the same time. Me, seeing the approaching danger but able to make only unintelligible sounds through the gag. But it was enough to alert him, and I saw him hesitate for a split second, making the choice to cut my last binding before whirling to save himself. A fatal sacrifice. Not at all surprising, given what I had come to know about him.

I saw the gun being raised, saw Pendergast, rushing low in desperation, toward the point-blank powder burn that would surround the wound that would kill him. I do not remember thinking anything at that...   read more »

I was lying in wait in my parlor, like the spider for the fly. It was a hot, sultry day, but the breeze off the river was gently cooling the house as day faded to evening. I had been waiting all day; no, all week for Special Agent Pendergast to wander into my trap. The wait was so exquisitely painful for me, I was beginning to hope he’d never come. But, alas, the hour came when I heard the discreet rumble of his Rolls. Not the flashy one he drove up North, but the nice black one he kept for his infrequent visits home.

Home. Not entirely home, as he came from the city and the house he kept now was out Metarie way. It was the family’s summer home, the one they would retreat to every summer to escape the heat and poor air in New Orleans proper. Granted, it’s...   read more »

Lucretia Pendergast sipped her tea calmly. Her eldest son stood before her, waiting for her to finish. Next to her, Cornelia set down an empty cup on a saucer.

The urge in young Aloysius’ eyes was persistent. She set her cup down prematurely, leaving the tea leaves drifting gently in her unfinished drink. “You wish to speak to me, Aloysius?”

“Yes, mother. May I leave the house and take a walk in the forest tonight?”

Cornelia Pendergast smiled slowly, “I have heard the sky will be clear tonight, Aloysius.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am looking forward seeing the stars, if my mother will allow me.”

“Have you spoken to your father about this?” Lucretia Pendergast seemed undecided.

“No, mother. I cannot find him.”

“I see. Then I suppose you may, but be back by dawn.”

“Thank you. Good night, mother. Good night, ma’am,” he bowed slightly to his great-aunt and left.

“He is such a good boy, Lucretia. You are...   read more »