Pendergast’s POV


He was sitting in the back of an ambulance when I arrived, covered in blood and for his sake I hoped some of it was his own. An EMT was holding a stethoscope to his chest and checking his blood pressure. He sat there patiently, staring off into space, his dark sunglasses perched on top his curly black hair. He hadn’t noticed me yet and I took the opportunity to just watch him.

At the beginning of the day, I was sure Halo Spencer’s shirt had been white but now, as it was nearing 6pm, his shirt had turned crimson in places and pinkish in others with the blood that covered him. His faded jeans and Converse sneakers were blood stained as well, nearly caked in the...   read more »

He stared down at his bed and smiled, brushing the fingertips of one hand over his lips. His brother lay on his stomach, nude and pale against the dark backdrop of his bedsheets, and looked up at him demurely through his eyelashes. Diogenes laughed shrilly and then sighed. “What a surprise.”

A flush rose on Aloysius’ face, but he said nothing. Diogenes stepped forward, loosening his tie and stripping off the suit jacket he’d worn to school. “Home for the weekend? Do Mother and Father know you’re here?”

“Yes,” Aloysius said softly as Diogenes knelt and used his necktie to bind his brother’s wrists in an intricate knot.

“You like to take risks, don’t you? Big brother?” He held his brother’s chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to make eye contact. Aloysius said nothing, and Diogenes leaned forward to for a brief, light kiss before standing again. “Won’t this be fun?”...   read more »

D’Agosta followed Pendergast down to the bank of the stream, idly listening to the muted conversation of Constance and the count that they had left behind with their picnic things. Several large, gnarled elm trees blocked the others from view, but the sound of their voices—if not the individual words—drifted pleasantly on the air of the clear, calm afternoon. Pendergast stood beside a tree that was very close to the water’s edge, one of his long, white hands resting delicately upon the dark bark of the trunk. He gazed pensively out over the water, his eyes following its turbulent passage with a steadiness that was almost meditative. D’Agosta cleared his throat gently and squinted up into the sky.

“” Pendergast abruptly recited this bit of poetry with a clipped succinctness that did not seem to fit the rich,...   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 »

Charles watched him sleep.

Aloysius lay curled up tightly beside him; face as expressionless as always, even in sleep. But he still looked peaceful. His back was to the wall and he was painfully vulnerable, Charles didn’t dare touch him; Aloysius had reflexes like a viper. And he was significantly more dangerous. But he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, the doctors had given him something for the pain and something else to help him sleep.

I should change the bandage... Charles...   read more »

The young FBI agent Halo Spencer looked out the side of his sunglasses to the older agent seated beside him. The other agent’s hair was white-blonde, contrasting to a completely black suit that was tailored to his too-thin frame. His eyes were silver like a Husky’s and his skin was pale to the point of transparency but not sickly in any way. His lips pressed into a disapproving line as he looked down at the case file on the table between them. Halo studied his profile in the half-dark of twilight and thought maybe he was an angel. It took him a moment to remember he’d stopped believing in angels.

Fine then,He decided. He’s a sculpture come to life or a god once sent to earth and then forgotten. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Today, he’s just my boss.

“What do you make of this Agent Spencer?” He asked in a voice...   read more »

A shadowy form swept confidently through the darkened halls of the Museum of Modern Art. It was close to midnight, and stillness of the building seemed exaggerated by the unexpected movement.

The guard nodded to him as he passed. In a movement calculated carefully to convey spontaneity, the man stopped, checked his pockets, and let out an exasperated sigh. “Left my keys upstairs,” he explained, and the guard nodded again. No questions. Nothing out of place. It was perfect.

Still, he felt a curl of fear in his stomach as he bypassed the route to his office and headed instead through the galleries. He knew exactly where he was going, knew exactly what painting he was going to stand in front of, and still it came almost as...   read more »

They pulled him out of the basement, wide-eyed and soot-covered and shivering through the intense heat. His bad eye had secreted so many tears, trying in vain to counteract the soot and smoke in the air, that it was gummed shut, and the flesh surrounding it was red, raw, and painful. The world had been utterly silent to him, in addition to its customary monochromatic cast, and the activity around him looked, for all intents and purposes, like a manic adventure of the Keystone Cops. He had laughed a little, and well-meaning strangers wrapped him in a blanket and slung their arms over his shoulder and—he knew, although...   read more »