Defender (Diary of A Dark Monster Book 2) by Martha Carr & Michael Anderle

Author:Martha Carr & Michael Anderle [Carr, Martha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2022-06-22T16:00:00+00:00

Stryker clapped his hands in delight. “As usual, the truth lies somewhere between the two most extreme viewpoints. What really went on, Henry? Hm? Perhaps I should keep looking.”

It didn’t take long to find another story. This one was about a couple of miscreants who had thrown Molotov cocktails at a public library in Seattle. “Nothing new there. The big cities are increasingly lawless and full of lunatics.”

He decided to click the article anyway, and the mugshots of the two perpetrators popped up, complete with blue tattoos. He stared at them for a full minute, confusion slowly giving way to glee.

“A couple of young nitwits trying to make themselves look like Pictish warriors? This cannot be a coincidence. It looks like I have an obvious place to resume my mission.”

He closed out his tabs, cleared the search history and cache, and got up to dump the rest of his cold, sour coffee. The sound of Paul’s game rang through the house, a chorus of gunshots and preteen voices screeching over microphones. But there was another sound, quieter, almost inaudible over the din of Fortnite.

It was the front door opening.

Paul heard it and reached the kitchen first. “Shit, dude, my mom came back! You gotta go!”

She stormed in behind him, a dervish of motherly rage and bleached blonde hair. “I knew it! I’ve got you on hidden camera, mister…whoever-you-are. I’ve called the police!”

Paul groaned and ran his hands down the sides of his face. “Jesus, Mom, why’d you do that?”

She shoved a finger in his face. “Excuse me, young man? I thought I raised you right. Bringing strange people to the house when you’re home alone! So, who are you?” She turned back to Stryker. “Some kind of pervert?”

Stryker rinsed his coffee mug in the sink and stepped toward the door. The angry woman got in front of him. “Where do you think you’re going, huh? You’re gonna stay right here until the cops come. They’ll put you in jail for life, you creep. Say bye-bye to whatever job you have.”

“Madam, your hefty and probably fake bosoms make a formidable wall,” Stryker responded. “But I assure you, they will not keep me from departing your house.”

“Oh, yeah? You wanna bet?” She jabbed her fake nails into Stryker’s chest.

Rage boiled up inside him. “You should not have done that. I know you’re trying to be a good parent, but what kind of mother wants her son to watch her being torn apart?”

“Is that a threat?” she demanded.

Stryker raised his walking stick. “It might have been. Shall we find out?”

He twisted the haft and pulled the whip-thin blade out—the one he had used to kill the gnome at Neumann’s house. This bimbo book-club Betty will be no match for its sharpness, either.

Then he saw the child in the corner. Paul had fallen to his knees and was covering both ears. Tears streamed down his face. Stryker remembered the first day he’d met Paul. Walking randomly near his sawmill sanctuary, Stryker had seen a

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