Read Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1) Online
Authors: Rob Cornell
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Detroit, #Werewolves, #Action, #thriller, #urban fantasy
She turned away from the arrangement and looked at him. “You do?”
“When Dolan used that artifact on me, I saw things, glimpses of memories. Whoever I am, or was…I had power. I could connect with mojo in some way I’ve not seen before in anyone else. Except for Jessie.”
Her brow creased. “You think she’s some kind of witch?”
“Witch. Sorcerer. Wizard. What you call it doesn’t matter. What matters is this stuff is real.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of my daughter involved with all that.”
“I don’t like it one bit. That’s why she has to believe what happened with you was a fluke.”
“Lie to her?”
Lockman reached out and took her hand. “For her own good.”
“Like you lied to me all those years.”
The sting in his gut had nothing to do with his wound. “For her own good.”
Kate pulled her hand out of his. “Okay.”
They agreed that, at least for the time being, they should stick together. They rented a cabin in Northern Illinois on twenty-eight acres of woodlands. Jessie would start back at the local school again in the fall, under a new name. Kate took a job at a local grocery, also under a new name. Lockman was still recovering from his injury, but would seek employment when he was fully healed.
Lockman stood out back, listening to Jessie shouting at Kate over something. Every little thing seemed to set her off lately. He knew it was because of Ryan. She complained often that they had taken her away from Ryan before she had a chance to help him. Kate and Lockman stood by their initial agreement and told her there was nothing she could have done for him.
He stood by the woodpile he had cut for their fireplace. He held his axe and stared at the bronze cube he had placed on the stump where he normally chopped the wood. The artifact held his other life, his very soul. He had every right to hang onto it. He might find a way to access the memories. Gabriel Dolan had held a great deal of power and resources. Who knew what else he might have access to? A means to fight back against the darkness that bled into their world? A way to undo some of the damage Dolan, and others like him, had done by bringing beings from other planes here where they did not belong?
But did the risks of that knowledge outweigh the benefits? Jessie was a good kid who managed to make mojo work for her. She had saved Kate from madness. He had seen it with his own eyes. Maybe they
could
use that power for good, despite what he had always believed.
He lined up the axe blade with the artifact.
Destroying it doesn’t just benefit the greater good. It keeps Jessie and Kate safe.
He lifted the axe over his head.
Keeping it could do the same. More, even.
He squeezed the axe handle. A line of sweat rolled down his forehead. His abs ached where his wound continued to heal. The wood chopping had been as much about mending as making logs for the fire.
A mosquito buzzed at his ear.
Do it.
But there was no Agency left. For all he knew, Lockman was the only man standing between Armageddon and the world’s future. Who would carry on the mission? Who would continue to fight for the greater good?
Him?
With what? A pair of silver-loaded Glocks and a crucifix only went so far.
He lowered the axe and leaned it against the stump. He picked up the bronze cube and walked further into the woods behind the cabin. He looked for something that would stand out only to him and found a round-topped rock about the size of a loaf of bread. He lifted the rock and dug a pocket in the mossy earth big enough to hold the artifact. He set the artifact in the hole and replaced the rock.
When Lockman returned to the cabin, he found Kate at the kitchen table, wearing the green smock she wore when she worked at the grocery. She stared at an untouched sandwich on a plate in front of her.
“Everything okay?” Lockman asked.
Kate pushed her plate away. “Apparently, I washed her IPod. Of course, she’s the one who left it in her jeans pocket. But Mom’s to blame for everything.”
“She’ll come around.”
“I have to get to work.” She stood. “Did you…take care of it?”
Lockman looked her in the eyes. She needed to believe him. “It’s done.”
“Now what?”
“We piece our lives back together.”
“Whatever that means.”
He cupped her face in one hand. “Hopefully it means we stay close.”
She smiled, placed her hand over his.
Looking in her eyes, Lockman let himself forget about the supernatural and mojo, about the darker things, about who he used to be. He let himself have this moment and let the moment have him. He leaned forward, kissed Kate long and hard.
When she responded in kind, Lockman knew he had a second chance.
He would defend it against anything. Everything.
At any cost.
The Chronicles Continue…
Dark Legion (The Lockman Chronicles #2)
Now available!
About the Author
An accidental nomad, Rob Cornell grew up in suburban Detroit, then spent five years living in Los Angeles before moving to Chicago to receive a BA in Fiction Writing from Columbia College. He has traveled full circle, now living in rural southeast Michigan with his wife, two kids, and dog, Kinsey—named after Sue Grafton’s famous detective. In between moving and writing, he’s worked all manner of odd jobs, including lead singer for an acoustic cover band and a three-day stint as assistant to a movie producer after which he quit because the producer was a nut job.
For more information and to contact the author, please visit
rob-cornell.com
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Books by Rob Cornell
The Lockman Chronicles
Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1)
Dark Legion (The Lockman Chronicles #2)
Darkest Hour (The Lockman Chronicles #3)
Darkness Returns (The Lockman Chronicles #4)
Mysteries and Thrillers
Red Run
Last Call (A Ridley Brone Mystery)
The Hustle (A Ridley Brone Mystery)
Saving Sasha Brown (A Ridley Brone Mystery)
Published by Paradox Publications
Copyright © 2011 Rob Cornell
All rights reserved.
Cover Design © LFD Designs For Authors
Darker Things
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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