Teaser Tuesday ~ From Chapter 12: The Mystic Ring

The origin of the Mystic Ring is debatable, but it now is on Sabrina's finger. This is a discussion between herself and Bill Gannon about it and a gloomy forecast of things to come.

“Get out of my way!” I growled and moved through the ruined room. He caught me by the shoulder. My eyes flicked down at his strong hand, and then upward, meeting a gaze that threatened to melt me, should I allow it. His fingers released me as I jerked out of his grasp. We faced one another in Mrs. Bench's living room.

“Sabrina, this is far from over. Be prepared for war,” Bill warned. “There are many supernaturals who now know who you are and where you live. The portal opening has announced it in the strongest way.”

“I never asked for this! Why would they care?” I felt the tears rush to my eyes again. I couldn't hold them back as I looked up at him. Maybe that dark-winged angel had been there, after all.

“You wear the mystic ring of King Solomon.” He gestured with his eyes toward my hand.

“What?” Too rattled to catch on, I didn't understand what he meant.

“The ring,” he explained, his tone still moderate, his expression unreadable. “It is thousands of years old, and has many powers.”

I looked down at my right hand and found that my glove was missing — I didn't remember it coming off, and couldn't see where it had gone. I gazed at the wide band of dull silver on my middle finger, but knew it wasn't silver, or it would have burned me. It was extremely dense. In the butter-soft lighting of the room, I could see there was strange-looking writing around the band — nothing I'd ever seen before, and clearly, nothing I could decipher.

“The mystic ring was once owned by King Solomon, the magician,” Bill explained. “He used it to help him rule demons. He collected a variety of magical things in his lifetime, but it wasn't his to keep. It is very ancient.”

I stood staring at him with my mouth open trying to comprehend this. It was like he was trying to explain physics to me, and so, naturally, it went over my head.

“It was hidden on a higher plane until the next sibyl was born. You.” He pointed at me. “They had to wait until you were born, and then find you through the cosmos.”

“I don't understand. You're saying that, supposedly, I was around during Solomon's time?”

“No. You are born in this lifetime. You are the only known sibyl in the world, now. Until only recently, your birth was a secret from us all. How fortunate that my grandmother happens to live across from you.”

I slitted my eyes at him, “Yeah, real fortunate.”

The Promised Scene

Something happened yesterday with the end of my post. I had the scene all prettied up for you and somehow it did a magic act and disappeared on me! So Abracadabra, I twich my nose and POOF!
Scene set up: Bill Gannon in car with a minor-minor character, Cooper. This is the fourth book, so just sit back and read it for what it is. The backpack belongs to Sabrina who has lost it in a scuffle with vampires in Garden of the Gods, Colorado.

Bill tossed him the backpack. Cooper caught it.

“Let's get in and find the vampire's lair on the GPS.”

Both men slid into the front seat of Bill's white SUV. Bill turned the engine over and brought up the in-dash monitor.

“Give me the address of the vampire who lives in the area,” Bill asked.

“Twenty-one eleven, Rampart Range,” Cooper said.

Bill looked at him. “You're sure? You don't have to consult a note pad or something?”

“Nope. I've got a steel trap for a memory. Go ahead and put it in. You'll see.

Bill punched in the address. It took only a moment before the site map came up. The roads that lead out of this area of The Springs curved and wound and had dozens of switchbacks.

“Mountain roads,” Bill muttered as he magnified the area. He put it into the satellite mode to see the terrain. “Definitely mountain road.”

“This road goes for miles through mountains,” Cooper said as he unzipped the backpack. “It meanders through Pike National Forest. I think it might eventually go to Denver.”

“Not interested in that. But if that's the correct address, his house is right there, on this curve of road.” He tapped the screen with a fingernail. “A lot of switchbacks . . .” Bill trailed off.

Cooper, meanwhile, had unzipped the backpack and discovered Sabrina's purse. He pulled it out, using the driver's side light to investigate the bag further.

“Hey, you'd better leave that stuff alone.” Bill grabbed Sabrina's purse from the lid of the console.

“Wow.” Cooper's word came on a chuckle. “Your intended bride is into weaponry, I see.” He pulled out a dagger in a fancy black leather sheath.

“What are you doing? I told you to leave that alone.”

“Just curious,” Cooper said.

The dagger wiggled out of its sheath on its own accord, drawing both men's undivided attention as it hovered momentarily in mid air. Then, it darted forward and jammed into Cooper's chest between the fourth and fifth ribs.

Cooper's scream startled Bill more than anything. A memory quickly surfaced. It was something taught to Bill at a very early age. He had thought that the story of The Dagger of Delphi was a myth, told to scare young apprentices in the Nephilistic League of Young Men.

Automatically Bill exited the car, and shut the door, and for an extra precaution, he hit the remote lock. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. With a thumb he went to his #10 contact, and hit SEND.

It rang several times, and it went to voice mail—which was what he was told it would do—while Bill passively watched the scene inside his white Escalade. Now the interior was no longer pristine white, but blood spattered. The window was smeared with a bloody hand print. Cooper twisted in the seat, trying, to no avail, to pull the dagger from his chest, and illicit Bill's help.

Bill knew better. To help Cooper now would mean his own death. The Dagger of Delphi would seek all which it deemed its enemies—which were all the Nephilistic race, as well as vampires and demons. Nope, he'd remain here, thank you.

When he got the tone he spoke his message: “Cooper has been killed by the Dagger of Delphi. Repeat: Dagger of Delphi exists! I've left the vehicle in the parking lot of The Garden of the God's Trading Post, in Colorado Springs. You'll have to send in non-Nephilistics to do clean up.” He looked at his Rolex watch. His father was in Madrid Spain. This message would get to him automatically. But those who were part of the HAZMAT team would be sent here post haste.

Cooper had become quiet. He was dead, now. Bill was certain of it. Stupid son of a bitch! “It's eight-forty two o'clock, mountain time,” he went on with his message. “I'm calculating that it will be several hours before his body has turned to dust. You'll want to have the car towed away before its discovered . . . it's rather a mess inside, and I know you don't want anyone to see it. Especially the police.”

Bill hit END, and strode away. For him to chance being seen now was quite dangerous. Especially since the Albino was known to be in these parts. The Undead couldn't resist a soul from a Nephilic being. He scrolled to his car rental number. Always open. He wondered how fast they could get him an SUV, as he headed down the road, toward town.

~*~