Halfway Dead (22 page)

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Authors: Terry Maggert

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Adventure, #Magic

BOOK: Halfway Dead
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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lock and Key

 

 

Gus batted my nose lightly with his enormous paw, and then he did again. After the third swat from the thankless creature, I mumbled, “Leemeealone.”

He did not. Gus is quite persistent, or rude. Since he’s a cat, it’s most likely both. I glanced at the kitchen floor to judge the time. I’d been asleep for hours. The patch of moonlight had nearly traversed half the room, meaning it was near midnight. I’d been home for two weeks, and the moon was nearing full. It was time for spell requests, and I waited for the first one of the month in patient slumber, or at least I had until the big galoot swatted me awake.

The brass mail slot squeaked slowly, then gave inward with a minor screech as something heavy hit the floor. I leapt up and stalked over to the foyer. The noise was too different to be a simple page of paper.

I was correct, it was a package about the size of a book. The wrapping was clearly handcrafted, so I opened it with a practiced flick of my thumb and walked to the moonlight to read.

There were no words. In fact, it wasn’t a spell request at all. Inside were a handful of chestnuts, three living sprigs from the trees of the grove, and a small piece of birch bark with a beautifully-drawn illustration on it. There was a table, two chairs, and above hung the moon, just as it did outside my window. There was also a heavy bronze key of an ancient style. On it, someone had scribed my initials, and I felt a frisson of excitement flush my cheeks. I was being invited to dinner. Smiling, I told Gus, “I accept.”

Gus uttered a meow of inquiry at the mail slot. I walked back to the door and lifted the brass hinge to see Bindie hovering just outside. It would be a guided affair, then. That negated any need for lights or preparation, so I put on a dress, left my feet bare, and tied my hair in a ribbon of soft blue. I was ready.

Bindie guided me in the general direction of my foray to find the chestnuts, and, after a half hour’s brisk walk, we approached the farthest reach of the creek that had hemmed Wulfric in for all those years. There were bulky shadows on either side of the bank, and the smell of newly-turned earth and fresh lumber hung in the cool night air. Bindie streaked to a place on the earth berm and began twinkling with excitement. I followed her obediently to find a wooden column attached to a curious device. It was a post with a lock, extending into the soft earth at my feet. Two stone walls now bracketed the creek, and overlapping slats like that of a ship jutted out for several feet from each earthwork.

I laughed with unbridled joy at the cleverness. It was a lock, just as the original canal builders envisioned more than a century earlier. Jim’s idea of using shipbuilder’s traditions to stop the water had been made real, doubtless with the help of countless fae. I thanked Bindie for her guidance, and inserted the bronze key into the spot, turning it with a pronounced
click
. Hidden springs began to pull the gates of the lock closed while I stood helpless as the heavy wooden seams closed with a muffled bang. The water began to rise, and the stream began to go dry.

He came to me across a series of stepping stones that had been under three feet of water only moments before. The table was to our right, under nothing save the stars, and I kissed him when he reached my side of the bank. He was cool, but warmed to me as I held him with all of the strength I could muster.

In the moonlight, Wulfric’s eyes were bright with need. “I want you, Carlie. Will you have me?”

I pulled him to me, the grass soft underneath. The fae dancing overhead went dim, respectful in the hour of our need. Only the moon watched our loving, its path cutting through the blaze of stars as we found each other for the first time. For the second time, the moon had gone past us, hiding behind the hulking shadows of the mountains.

I reached for him again. The moon waits for no one, and neither do I.

 

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Halfway Dead
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About the Author

 

 

 

Left-handed. Father of an apparent nudist. Husband to a half-Norwegian. Herder of cats and dogs. Lover of pie. I write books.

 

I live near Nashville, Tennessee, with the aforementioned wife, son, and herd, and, when I'm not writing, I teach history, grow wildly enthusiastic tomato plants, and restore my 1967 Mustang.

Banshee

 

Cities Fall. Dragons Rise. War Begins
.
 

The war for earth began in Hell. First came the earthquakes. Then came the floods. Finally, from the darkened mines, caves and pits, the creatures of our nightmares boiled forth to sweep across the planet in a wave of death.

 
On the run and unprepared, mankind is not alone. We have dragons
.
 
Emerging from their slumber, giant dragons select riders to go to war. Their forces strike back at the legions of demons that attack on the night of every new moon. The Killing Moon, as it becomes known, is the proving ground for warriors of skill and heart. Among the riders is Saavin, a brave young woman from the shattered remains of Texas. Her dragon, Banshee, is swift and fearless, but they will need help to fight a trio of monstrous creatures that Hell is using to take cities one by one
.
 

With the help of French Heavener, a warrior of noble intent, Banshee and Saavin will launch a desperate defense of New Madrid, the last city standing. But first, they’ll have to go into the very cave where demons bide their time until the sun fades and the moon is black
.
 

The hope of mankind rests on dragon’s wings and the bravery of Saavin and French
.
 
They have the guts. They have the guns
.
 
They have dragons
.
 

The Forest Bull

 

Three lovers who stalk and kill the immortals that drift through South Florida (tourists are a moveable feast, after all) are living a simple life of leisure- until one of them is nearly killed by woman who is a new kind of lethal.

 

When Ring Hardigan isn’t making sandwiches for, and with, his two partners, Waleska and Risa (they’re cool like that), he’s got a busy schedule doing the dirty work of sending immortals to the ever after. Wally and Risa provide linguistics, logistics, and finding the right place for him and his knife- together, they’re a well-oiled machine, and they’ve settled into a rhythm that bodes ill for the Undying. Warlocks, vampires, succubae and the odd ghoul have all fallen to their teamwork. Life is tough, but they soldier on killing the undead, liberating their worldly goods for charity, and generally achieving very little.

 

Until Ring wakes up after nearly dying at the hands of a woman who may or may not be the daughter of Satan. Ring’s a tough character, for a boat bum (killing immortals sort of rubs off on you that way), but twelve days of comatose healing are enough to bring out the ugly side of his temper. When a letter arrives asking for their help finding a large collection of stolen heirloom jewelry, they form an uneasy friendship with the last Baron of a family hiding in a primal European forest.

 

Cazimir, the Baron, has two skills: Jeweler and preserver of the last herd of forest bulls. It’s an odd occupation, but then, Ring, Risa and Wally aren’t your everyday career folks, and Cazimir’s lodge might be sitting on something that looks a lot like hell, which, according to a 2400 year old succubus hooker named Delphine, is currently on the market to the strongest immortal. The Baron’s impassioned plea to find the jewelry comes with some conditions- he doesn’t want the collection back as much as he does the thief, Elizabeth, who happens to be his daughter- and the woman who nearly sent Ring to his grave.

 

In a tapestry of lies, it’s up to Ring, Wally and Risa to find out what is evil, who is human, and exactly who really wants to reign over hell.

 

 

Mask of the Swan

 

 

Killing immortals is easy. Becoming one is hard.

 

When three lovers (Ring, Waleska, and Risa) take a vacation after losing a fight with an elegant monster named Elizabeth, their time for healing is cut short by a new threat, and this time, innocent blood will spill.

Reaching for the crown of Hell, Elizabeth gathers Archangels around her to fuel her power-mad ascent—but she has powerful enemies who will fight her every step of the way, including Delphine, the 2400 year old succubus hooker who knows that inside her beautiful body rests a very human soul. Joined by an honorable priest who finds himself in the middle of a war he never knew existed, a demigod and his partner, and the stage is set for another round in the battle to determine how much of Ring, Waleska, and Risa is still human, how tough their immortal side can be—and how far they are willing to go to protect the people they love from a creature who would burn their world to ashes.

The Waking Serpent

 

 

 

Evil is never still. Something wicked is crossing the sea, a creature so old that none even remember its name-- but it has not forgotten the taste of blood. With a succubus ally, a brave priest, and new friends who seem a little less human than most, The Fearless will meet the greatest challenge of their lives. An ancient adversary is stopping by to avenge a wrong from the depths of time in a fight to the death that will bring a goddess to Florida for the best reason of all: Revenge.

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