Weaponized Magic: A Druidverse Urban Fantasy Novella (The Cerberus Paranormal Detective Series Book 1) by M.D. Massey & D. William Landsborough

Weaponized Magic: A Druidverse Urban Fantasy Novella (The Cerberus Paranormal Detective Series Book 1) by M.D. Massey & D. William Landsborough

Author:M.D. Massey & D. William Landsborough [Massey, M.D. & Landsborough, D. William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: needs an amazon review
Publisher: Modern Digital Publishing
Published: 2023-02-03T05:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER

SEVEN

I woke up with the world’s shittiest hangover in the world’s shittiest VIP suite: a concrete cube, chains holding me spread eagle against the cold slab that was the floor. A single light dangled from the ceiling a few feet above where my head would have been if I could have stood up. Looking down, a single reinforced door lay flush with one of the walls. There must have been a vent somewhere, but I couldn’t see it. Other than that, the gray room was a minimalist’s wet dream.

That was all secondary, though. Every cell in my body ached, down to a microscopic level. Whatever the hell Perez had given me felt like a train had blindsided me. Four times. My body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the kind you get when you wake up from a nightmare that was a little too real.

That’s my whole fuckin’ life right now, actually.

Trying to sit up proved useless, thanks to the thickest chains I had ever seen. The pitted metal seemed a little too shiny to be steel. Flashes of what had happened came back to me, specifically the moment I tore free from the nylon restraints without much more than a flex. I tried doing the same to the chains, but no dice.

“Strickland?” My shout echoed in the ten-by-ten room. “Perez? I’m ready to be a good boy, I swear.”

A moment passed before the sound of a massive deadbolt grinding against its metal housing filled the room. The door opened, allowing somewhat fresher air to fill the concrete prison. Half a dozen CERBERUS personnel—including Strickland and Perez—funneled into the room. Neither the Doc nor the director held a gun, but everyone else did.

I nodded at the only other person I recognized. “Gibbs.”

He did the same, his pistol still trained on my skull. “Mendoza.”

Without saying a word, Perez approached me and started examining my body. She tapped a few things on a tablet, used her stylus to push my chin to either side without letting her hand get too close, and shone a pen light in my eyes. I could tell everyone in the room was anxious letting her so close to me. I just wished they’d move their twitchy fingers away from their triggers.

“Give it to me straight, Doc,” I said. “Is it terminal?”

While Perez rolled her eyes and continued tapping away on her screen, I ran through a list of my own conclusions.

First, my senses weren’t as heightened as they had been after I was injected. I couldn’t hear the heartbeats of the people in the room. The light hanging above me, while annoying, didn’t give me a migraine. I couldn’t tell you what everyone had for lunch based on their breath, but I could still single out each person’s unique scent.

Strickland smelled like starch. Perez like cinnamon. Gibbs like stale cigarettes.

Second, I was more in control, more rational. I could obviously speak and understand what others were saying. My blood wasn’t mostly adrenaline anymore, which was nice.



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