Rook- Let's Avoid the Apocalypse, People

184 Pages·2011·0.75 MB·English

by  McCray Carolyn

Praise for Rook…

“Wow. Can you say page-turner, roller-coaster ride,
and great characters three times fast? Rook grabs hold of
you from the first scene in a torchlit cave and doesn’t let
go until the last word. Amazing.”
Your Need To Read
Reviewer

“Any book that has angels, vampires, and giant attack
lizards is okay with us! This book takes urban fantasy to
a whole new level. Exciting, yet with some truly heartfelt
moments. We cannot recommend Rook enough! Can’t
wait for the next in the series.
ParaYourNormal
Reviewer

“While not a ‘thriller’ per se, Rook is the definition of
thrilling. McCray really knows how to turn up the heat
and keep you flipping through the pages so fast you fear
they will ignite! Even if urban fantasy isn’t your thing,
READ ROOK. You won’t regret it!”
ThrillersRockT
Reviewer

“McCray always writes smart, gripping mysteries
(Plain Jane and All Hallow’s Eve), but it was great to see
her bring that same flair to her new urban fantasy, Rook.
I just wanted to climb in the car with them, even though
it was being chased by winged demons! Rook leaves your
heart pounding, wanting more!”
Amber Scott
Author
Fierce Dawn
Main Menu
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Afterword
Other Works by Carolyn McCray
Works by Other Authors
About the Author
Contact Information
Acknowledgments
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
Location: Congo Region, Africa
General Samuel Houghlin watched out of the helicopter’s
window as the craft bobbed and weaved, trying to stay out of
the heated firefight below. The force of the helo’s blades
allowed brief glimpses of the battle and bent double the leaves
of the jungle’s trees. The army’s dark green uniforms and the
guerrillas’ camouflage blended in with the tangled vegetation.
Only the bright red smears of blood made it possible to see
which way the fight was tipping.
Not their way, that was for sure.
Houghlin remembered an old sergeant’s warning when he
took command here years ago. “Africa is a harsh mistress.”
How right the grizzled old man’s predictions were.
Sympathies within the local governments were about as fickle
as the governments themselves. With each coup, citizens got a
whole new set of would-be dictators, or worse, the politicians
calling themselves “reformers.”
Which was exactly how they landed in this incredibly
untenable position. A rebel had declared himself king—and had
enough fighters to put that claim to the test. Somehow, his
forces had swept nearly fifty miles to the west within days, as
the army proved ineffective to stop him. And that put this
horrific fight just steps from an American archaeological dig.
Houghlin had no real authority here. He was an advisor only.
With two Somalian pirate hostage situations off the coast and
rioting in Cape Town, the soonest an American extraction team
could get here was in forty-eight hours.
He had strongly urged the government to send a squad to
extract the archaeologist, but it looked like Houghlin had just
sealed these soldiers’ fates. The rebels had taken this
evacuation mission as some sort of recon force and had dealt
them a swift blow.
“Sir, we have got to pull out,” Emmeret, his assistant, stated
as a bullet pinged off the helo’s metal rotor. “We just have to
hope the team can stay holed up until reinforcements arrive.”
But after the garbled, frantic call Houghlin received from
the lead researcher, Houghlin wasn’t sure if the greater danger
to the archaeologists was outside the cave or within.
*
Professor Hoshi Sanu felt the claw sink into the flesh of his
shoulder, and then tear. He screamed, but who could hear him
over their own cries? Then the beast retreated into the
shadows whence he had come. Clutching the wound, trying to
stanch the bleeding, Sanu stumbled.
The cave’s damp floor crumbled beneath his feet, nearly
knocking him over. Only crashing into the rough-hewn rock
wall stopped his tumble. His glasses long ago knocked away
and trampled in the chaos, Sanu squinted into the flickering
torchlight. Maybe two other people were still in the cave with
him. Where were their guards? But in his blurred world, he
could not tell. Were the rest of his students dead? Or worse,
had they been dragged into the shadows with the beast?
He had dug in Africa more times than he could count,
encountering snakes the size of drainage pipes and lions so
bold that they would stroll through his camp, but never had he
seen any creature like that which attacked them now. It was
more cunning than a wild animal and stronger than any man.
“Where is it?” whispered one of his students, Chad Fallon.
Before Sanu could answer, the beast grabbed hold of Chad
and shook him like a rag doll. His student used the only
weapon available to him—a backpack. With all the force the
young man could muster, he swung the heavy pack and hit the
beast squarely on the nose. It reared, blood pouring from its
snout, and howled.
The beast looked like a hyena, only it walked upright like a
man. But this was no human, as its eyes glowed red. It towered
over the injured student. Sanu knew he had no chance, but he
could not let Chad die while he crept along the cave wall. Sanu
went to move forward, but another student screamed.
“Get back!”
It was Kadie Mannson. She held a sputtering kerosene
lantern. She hauled back, and just as the beast lunged for
Chad, she hit it squarely on the chest. The glass shattered,
engulfing the beast in flame.
The cave lit up as the fire consumed the screeching, flailing
beast. Sanu shielded his eyes from the sight, but slowly his arm
lowered as he realized the wall behind the beast now glowed of
its own accord. Detailed, scrawled etchings formed a circle
within a circle within a circle. Sanu was a master of fifteen
languages, and he did not recognize a single symbol.
The Seal of Deur Hel.
The myths were true. The entire reason they had begun this
cursed mission lay before them. He had been right. Not that it
brought him any solace as the beast’s wails threatened to
shatter his eardrums.
Then, as suddenly as the fire started, it sputtered out,
leaving no trace of the beast. Slowly, as if it had never been
aglow, the wall, too, descended into black.
“Chad!” Kadie screamed, as she fell to her knees beside the
unconscious student. “Oh, God! He’s hurt!”
Gingerly, Sanu knelt beside the young man, who lay face
down. Bright red blood streaked his side. Sanu’s hand shook as
he reached for Chad’s shoulder. The student’s back was badly
injured. What would the front look like? Kadie helped to pull
him over.
Chad flopped onto his back as Sanu and Kadie scurried
away.
It could not be. It simply couldn’t.
Chad’s shirt lay shredded, revealing a glowing seal on his
chest. The same seal upon the wall. The thing pulsed with his
heartbeat, growing brighter by the moment.
Sanu held Kadie close as she sobbed hysterically, not
knowing what else to do.
*
“Say again!” the general yelled into his mouthpiece, but the
line had gone dead—replaced only by static. He could not
possibly have heard what he thought he heard. The only thing
he knew for certain was that things had gone south—way south
—in the cave.
“Sir,” his assistant argued again, “the only other extraction
team on the continent is bogged down in the Congo. We have
got to pull out.”
Houghlin would actually like nothing better. However, there
was a slight problem.
“So, I take it that you are volunteering to tell the vice
president that we lost his nephew?”
His assistant looked sheepish, and then averted his gaze
outside the window. But Houghlin knew that the sight would
not give Emmeret any more comfort.
He patted the back of the copilot’s chair. “Get me
Washington.”
“Whom are you calling?” his assistant asked.
Gritting his teeth, Houghlin prepared to make the call that
he swore he would never make.
“Someone who can help.”
CHAPTER 1
Location: None of Your Business
Rook sat in a really uncomfortable kitchen chair, leaning
over a large pewter and onyx chessboard. Of course, if he had
known he was going to be playing a game for his soul, he would
have chosen an overstuffed recliner or something with a bit of
padding. But alas, here his butt sat on hard wood.
He moved his black pawn in front of another white pawn,
taunting Dimitri to take the easy bait. But the figure sitting
across from him, shrouded in a motley robe and hood, ignored
his play.
“Rook, your moves are always so superficial.”
Instead of taking the pawn, Dimitri moved his bishop
laterally across the board, endangering Rook’s knight.
“You should have listened to the czar, Dimitri.”
Rapidly, they made a series of moves. Pieces were removed
from the board with frightening regularity—until there were
only ten pieces left. Dimitri’s hand hesitated over his white
queen.
“One would think that with all the time on your hands, you
would have learned to play a bit better than this …” Rook
taunted.
His words only seemed to steel Dimitri’s nerves. The
Russian forcefully moved his queen into position.
“Check.”
Oh, why did opponents never see this coming? “Like I
said…” Rook sighed.