Angel Killer
Contents (76)
DEDICATION
To my parents, James and Patricia.
EPIGRAPH
My professional life has been a constant record of disillusion, and many things that seem wonderful to most men are the everyday commonplaces of my business.
—HARRY HOUDINI
CONTENTS
Dedication
Epigraph
Warlock
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
WARLOCK
YOU’RE GOING TO DIE.” I tell her this not to be cruel, but out of compassion. It’s the uncertainty of things that tears our souls apart. She still thinks this is a dream, but her eyes are focused now. My words are working their way through her broken mind.
She was a pathetic sight in the rain. Standing by the Dumpster in back of the diner with her torn jeans and smeared makeup, hoping for enough money to get a fix from one of these backwoods dealers and their crude concoctions.
When she got into my truck she had to know that in at least one reality something like this would play out. Well, not quite like this . . .
The glow from the dashboard casts an orange pallor on her cheeks. She resembles a jack-o’-lantern made from the last pumpkin in the patch. Puffy, bruised, sad and, most of all, unwanted.
I’ve given her purpose. I’ve given her a role to play. What happens next will be a secret for only me to know. But her part will echo through eternity.
The gnawing at the soul by those tiny cat teeth of doubt will be soothed. This experiment will tell me things I assume, but need to be certain of. Physical things. Things of this nature. This world.
What does she see when she looks at me? A man. But it’s not the man that scares her. It’s the purpose of the man. A purpose can be larger than a man. Even if the man dies, the purpose can become a cause. If it holds on long enough, it will grow into a belief and then a religion.
This is how gods are made.
It starts with a purpose that others don’t understand.
A purpose that frightens.
I reach over and unbuckle her seat belt. Her limbs are paralyzed, so she can only track me with her eyes. There’s a shudder as I touch her.