Read Online Destroyer of Worlds by Jordan L. Hawk - Free Book Online Page A

“I…yeah. Let’s do this.”
    John clapped Sean on the shoulder, before
jogging back to the car to grab his bag out of the trunk. “This is
going to work,” he told Caleb firmly, as if he meant to rip Gray
out by sheer will alone.
    “ I know,” Caleb said, even though he
didn’t. But he hoped it did.
    As did Gray. “Better John does this to us than strangers.”
    Are you sure?
    Hesitation. “Yes. Will you look into his eyes? I would like them to be the
last color I see.”
    Caleb’s chest ached, Gray’s grief mixed in
with his own. And he shouldn’t be sad, damn it. He ought to be
dancing for joy.
    I’m going to miss you. I hope everything
goes okay for you. You know, after.
    “ Do not worry for
me.”
    I do, though. I will. I’ll
think about you all the time. He swallowed against the
irrational constriction of his throat. Damn drakul, making him all
weepy.
    “ And I shall carry my
memories of you for as long as I exist.”
    Weird, to think somebody would remember his
life long after he was dead and gone. Gray had seen civilizations
rise and fall. Maybe it was a sort of immortality, to think some of
Caleb’s memories would still be around, a thousand years from
now.
    John led the way to the house, Caleb
following and Sean trailing last. The lock had been broken sometime
in the past, and the hinges shrieked as John shoved the door open.
The wet reek of mold floated out, and Caleb wrinkled his nose.
Beneath it lay the rotten corruption of ghouls.
    “ Ghouls here,” he said dutifully, as he
stepped inside behind John. The floor creaked under his boots, then
creaked again as Sean crowded in after him.
    “ Good,” Sean said.
    Which didn’t make a lot of sense. Caleb
started to ask why he’d want ghouls there, when something cold and
hard pressed against the base of his skull and—
    * * *
    John spun at the sound of a gunshot, his hand
reaching automatically for his Glock, even though he’d left it in
the glove compartment of the car.
    What confronted him made no sense, a
collection of shapes and colors his brain couldn’t force into
something possible to interpret. Sean stood just inside the door,
gun in hand and a grim expression on his face. Caleb sprawled
facedown on the filthy floor, body limp as a marionette with its
strings cut. A pool of blood glistened in the light, spreading
slowly out from Caleb’s head.
    John couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. His
brain spun in circles, like an engine in neutral, as something cold
and heavy poured into his gut.
    “ Caleb?” he whispered. But Caleb didn’t
move, didn’t leap to his feet laughing at what had to be a stupid
joke, some crazy prank, because this couldn’t be real.
    It couldn’t.
    Sean took a step back, the floor groaning
under his shift of weight, the gun in his hand trembling
slightly.
    The motion snapped something in John’s chest,
releasing him from stasis. With a hoarse cry, he ran to Caleb’s
unmoving body, only to be brought up short by Sean’s gun.
    “ I’m sorry,” Sean said. No color
remained in his face, his skin as bleached white as Caleb’s. “It
had to be done.”
    “ No.” No, this wasn’t real. Sean hadn’t
just killed Caleb, hadn’t shot him execution-style in the back of
the skull, hadn’t…
    But it was. Caleb had just died at Sean’s
hand. His boyfriend, killed by his best friend.
    John screamed, an inhuman sound without
words. Heedless of the gun, he flung himself at Sean. “No, why,
Goddess, why—”
    The door burst open. Men and women dressed in
paramilitary gear streamed inside, all their guns trained on John.
“Freeze! Federal agents!” one shouted.
    John froze instinctively. An instant later,
rough hands grabbed him, throwing him against the wall and yanking
his arms behind his back. Plastic cuffs snapped into place, and
they shoved him unceremoniously toward the door.
    No. No, he couldn’t leave Caleb here. Caleb
depended on him.
    He’d promised.
    He set his heels, fighting like a