Ria's Web of Lies: A Ria Miller Urban Fantasy (Ria Miller and the Monsters Book 1)
Page 15
"Oh, you're so generous," I said. "The feeling is not mutual, by the way."
"Listen, I appreciate the big, bad, human act, but you can drop it," Tucker says, clearly growing annoyed that I didn't drop to my knees in appreciation of his news. "You have no idea how messy the game you're playing is."
He reaches into his pocket. I raise my knife. "Easy," he says, pulling his hand out slowly. He opens his hand, revealing a small silver disc in his palm. It's the cell tracker I planted on him.
"This belongs to you," he says, tossing it to me. "Ingenious plan. Just be careful about making sure you can't be traced back."
I stare at him in surprise. "You knew?"
"I wasn't born yesterday," he says. "Anyway, I came out of courtesy to you for freeing me. Don't expect courtesy from me again."
"Yeah, well, you can expect holy water from me again," I growl.
He laughs. "Goodbye, child. Be careful going forward. If I were you, I'd hope we never meet again."
At that, he shifts into bat form and takes off, leaving me standing, dumbfounded, holding my knife and the cell tracker. Great, so the vampire AND the spiders played us. All in the first two weeks of school.
Why does something tell me things are about to get a lot weirder?
EPILOGUE
THE MAN in the dark gray suit is exhausted by the time his limo arrives at the hotel. He's been traveling all afternoon, and he is looking forward to getting a chance to rest.
The man's black-suited limo driver comes around to open his door, and the man takes a deep breath. His aides will be on him the moment he steps out, and he tries to savor this moment of peace.
The limo door opens, and the man steps out into the night air. His seven top aides swarm him immediately, peppering him with questions and facts. He ignores them as he strolls inside.
The hotel lobby is splendid, as always. The first thing the man notices is the big crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. Then comes the fireplace that crackles in the back corner, opposite the concierge.
"Welcome back, sir," a hotel employee behind the desk says. "Your usual room is ready. Everything is set up just as you like it, and your preferred meal is already waiting for you."
"Thank you," the man replies as he accepts a keycard from the concierge. He strides down the dark red carpet hallway toward the elevator, and an aide pushes a button to call the car down. When it arrives, the man steps on. The aides all try to push in, but the man holds up his hands.
"Please, it's been a long trip. I'm tired. Can we pick this up tomorrow morning?"
"Of course, sir," one of them says. Sheepishly, they all back out.
The man points to another aide, this one a middle-aged, bald, white man in a black suit and tie. "Except, you, Trevor."
Trevor nods, moving past the others and stepping into the car. He pushes the button for the penthouse floor. The door closes and the elevator begins to climb.
There, alone with Trevor and away from prying ears, the man can speak freely. "What happened?" he asks.
Trevor's voice is measured as he answers. "Two spiders that worked at a school in Manhattan, they were found dead a few hours ago."
The man taps his fist on the wall in frustration. "How?"
"We don't know. One was found dead in the Museum of Natural History. The second is missing, but forensics found spider blood inside the school."
"And the young?"
Trevor purses his lips. "All gone."
Now the man leans his head against the wall. "Clean it up."
"Already did, sir."
"Good." He takes a breath. "This, so soon after Malone. I don't like it."
"Me neither, sir. It looks like someone may have discovered them."
"Do we have any leads?"
"No sir, the sites were cleaned with bleach. The scent was destroyed. Whoever did this knows what they're doing."
"Shit. Do you think it's the vampires?"
"I can't be sure, but it's not their style."
The elevator dings to announce its arrival at the penthouse, and the doors open. The man steps out and nods to Trevor. "I'm going to turn in, now. But stay on this. The others will have goddamn fits if we don't get answers."
"Of course. Good night, sir."
The man arrives at the door to his hotel room and taps his keycard against the lock. The room is as he requested. Modern decor, with a bottle of wine on the counter. The window shades are drawn, and the one-way windows give a 360-degree view of Boston. It would do.
The man takes in the city skyline. He's not happy being away from New York right now, during this outbreak of violence, but he had important business to attend to. He needed investors for the development, and sometimes courting them meant making side trips.
The man starts to undress, undoing his cufflinks and loosening his tie when a muffled scream sounds from the bathroom. Oh good, he thinks, it's here.
The man walks into the bathroom, where he finds the old brown man chained in the tub. He is screaming into a gag.
This was why he liked this hotel: they always remembered the details.
"Oh stop it," the man tells his guest. "You're just going to damage your vocal cords. No one's going to hear you, anyway."
He takes off his blazer. "I get off the plane and all I hear about is how someone killed some spiders. This, on top of someone killing a wolf. That's a lot of killing, let me tell you that."
His guest continues screaming, and the man rolls his eyes. "Well, now you're just being rude. I'm trying to tell you about my night."
He leans forward and sniffs the bound man. "Oh," he says in surprise, "you're a fall birth! You'll go well with the wine."
The man stands up as his hands begin to transform. Hairs sprouts, claws extend. His muscles expand and his mouth elongates, forming a snout filled with razor-sharp teeth.
The problems with the spiders would be solved another time. For now, it was time for dinner.
DID YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ?
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nigel Henry writes gripping fantasy novels about monsters that want to beat up the world, heroes who have to beat the monsters, and distress-free damsels who can beat up everyone.
As a child, Nigel was the boy who constantly walked into street signs because his nose was buried in a mystery, adventure, or fantasy book. As an adult, he’s managed to get his sign-bumping down to “only occasionally.”
Nigel is the author of The Demons of Sedona epic fantasy series and Ria Miller and the Monsters, an urban fantasy adventure series. By day, Nigel is an award-winning digital journalist. He and his wife live in New York City.
www.nigelshenry.com
nigel@nigelshenry.com
ALSO BY NIGEL HENRY
The Demons of Sedona
The Healer’s Pact (Book 1)
From Death (Book 2)
Death Walker (Book 3)
Daywalker (Book 4)
Ria Miller and the Monsters
Ria and the Revenant (Book 0.5)
Ria’s Web of Lies (Book 1)
Book 2 coming December 2017
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
; Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Did you like what you read?
About the Author
Also by Nigel Henry