It may have been the first time Martin had seen his wife in over three months, but as she turned to face him he did not run to her. Partly because he had never seen her look at him in that way – her stare distant, an unnerving edge to her expression – but mainly because he thought the burly men twisting his arms behind his back might snap them
Note: this story is an extension of and a sequel to an original creation by the inimitable Mara’s Mischief in a universe focused on rather sexy crime syndicates. You can find more information about her in the notes section at the end of this story. As he sat at the bar, his back aching and the din of rowdy twenty-somethings filling the room, Detective Cooper was more aware than ever
Ava sat sullenly at the bar, staring deep into her empty glass as though if she looked hard enough it would swallow her up. Glancing down the bar, she could see Elias on the dance floor, a beautiful young woman grinding up against him and giggling girlishly as he whispered something into her ear. Often Ava wished she was the type of girl to confront her boyfriend about his serial
Sir Vincent, honoured knight of King Arthur, crept through the darkened corridor with his sword drawn, calculating each step carefully. It was no exaggeration to say that his very life depended on his caution and to put a foot wrong could spell his doom. All alone in the heart of the High Sorcerer’s fortress, he was lucky to have survived this far. He would have felt significantly more at ease
Consciousness came slowly to her, and with it a sense of sudden dread. Something was very wrong, she could feel it in her gut, but at first she could not pinpoint what it was. As the drugs in her system wore off, her mind cleared and clarity flooded her system. Her first instinct was to run. It seemed to be a leftover reaction, as though it was the last thing
