Read from the beginning As the blanket of silence returned following the four pistol shots, time stood still. My already wounded head was now spinning and I fought to keep from passing out. I didn’t know what was going through Dimity’s head, but after a couple...
Read from the beginning Why I’d bothered to stop at a red light at 2 a.m. in a contraband racing vehicle in a town in the American Midwest, I couldn’t say. The Beaux Voyous sure weren’t bothering about the traffic laws. A familiar white Bugatti racer flew past us...
Read from the beginning “Hold it—dreams?” Ringo said. “Better to tell me about them now.” My head was still reeling from the revelation of the sinister figure of Poignard, some kind of global puppet master of the underworld. His name suggested he was French. Was he a...
Read from the beginning I slept hard that night. Harder than I had since this whole escapade began, despite the musty canvas of the cots and the echo of the building shaped like a gigantic overturned half-cylinder, and the others sleeping on creaking cots, unseen at...
Read from the beginning As interesting and provocative as Ringo’s story was, Dimity and I had come from a long road trip and we were yawning heavily. We tried to go on. Dimity said amid one of those long, full, open-mouthed yawns, “Did y-, y- [YA-A-A-A-A-AWN]…sorry....
Read from the beginning Ringo’s Story A shaft of moonlight from the high window mingled with the candlelight and draped the walls in shadows while lacquering our faces in amber. Ringo sat up in the bed and pulled a blanket over his bare shoulders, strangely...
