Lure of Obsession (The Muse Chronicles Book 1) by Lisa Kessler Page A
Authors: Lisa Kessler
Tags: Fiction
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calling the police.
Not only would his boss hand him his ass on a platter for going in without a warrant or a badge, but John wouldn’t leave him alone again if he discovered Nate was still working this case.
Without the lights on inside, his eyes struggled to adjust to the thick shadows. The musty scent added to the atmosphere of dread, putting his senses on high alert. He retrieved his cell and turned on the flashlight app. Cobwebs and dirt lined the rows of seats leading up to the stage. He had no idea what he might be looking for, but if his vision was real, someone else had been in here.
As he reached the front row of seats, his gut twisted into a tight knot. He didn’t need a blast of pictures in his head to know something was off; he just needed to spot it. He ran the flashlight beam along the stage and swung it back again. Although most of the stage was covered in dirt and debris, there was a clean spot in the middle.
He was pressing his hands on the stage floor to boost himself up when another vision hit. The man in black. He’d been here. Nate’s heart raced. The man opened the case he had been carrying and took out two gray squares of putty.
Explosives.
“Oh shit.” His voice echoed through the empty hall.
He hopped up, wishing like hell he had his gun—not that a weapon was going to help him if the building collapsed. He circled the clean area and knelt down to run his fingers over it. There was an edge. He set his phone down, tracing the cut in the floor. The square popped up exposing two blocks of C-4.
He grabbed his phone and called the station. “I need the bomb squad out here now.” He told dispatch what he’d found, as well as the cross streets for the theater.
Then he got the hell out of dodge.
The SWAT team rolled up ten minutes later. Nate was at the back of the parking lot when John parked and got out of the unmarked sedan. He stared at the dilapidated theater and then back at Nate. “What in the hell were you doing all the way out here?”
“I went for a run.”
He cocked his head, crossing his arms. “And you ran through a hole in a chain-link fence, into an abandoned building, and just happened to pull up the floorboards and find explosives inside?”
“Well, when you say it like that …”
John chuckled and sighed. “Talk to me, Malone. What the hell is up with you?”
Nate shook his head. Even if he understood what was happening, this was one thing he couldn’t share with his partner.
“I was running by and noticed an idling car back here. When I approached, they peeled out and drove away. I got a partial on the plate, but I thought I’d better investigate.” He cleared his throat. “Any chance you could give me a lift back to my place?”
John pulled off his sunglasses. “You really ran here from your condo? Christ, Malone, that’s about fifteen miles. You training for a marathon or something?”
No wonder his legs were like limp spaghetti noodles. “I was trying to figure things out. I guess I lost track of how far I’d come.”
“Get in. The bomb squad’s got it from here.”
CHAPTER 6
T he police detective was becoming a problem.
The leader of the Order wasn’t going to be pleased. The enforcer carried his toolbox into his tiny apartment and locked the door. He’d barely gotten out of the parking lot unseen, and by the time the detonators were set to go off, the bomb squad had already completed their work.
The theater was still standing, an affront to the Order of the Titans.
If he couldn’t take down their precious theater, he would cross another muse off his list. He opened the cupboard by the sink and carefully removed the paper taped under the shelf. Nia was blacked out. Next in line, her roommate, Melpomene. The Muse of Tragic Poetry went by Melanie Jacoby now.
And her demise would definitely be poetic.
He sat in his stark living room envisioning scenarios. He could crack her head with a bat while she graded term papers. Or maybe
Not only would his boss hand him his ass on a platter for going in without a warrant or a badge, but John wouldn’t leave him alone again if he discovered Nate was still working this case.
Without the lights on inside, his eyes struggled to adjust to the thick shadows. The musty scent added to the atmosphere of dread, putting his senses on high alert. He retrieved his cell and turned on the flashlight app. Cobwebs and dirt lined the rows of seats leading up to the stage. He had no idea what he might be looking for, but if his vision was real, someone else had been in here.
As he reached the front row of seats, his gut twisted into a tight knot. He didn’t need a blast of pictures in his head to know something was off; he just needed to spot it. He ran the flashlight beam along the stage and swung it back again. Although most of the stage was covered in dirt and debris, there was a clean spot in the middle.
He was pressing his hands on the stage floor to boost himself up when another vision hit. The man in black. He’d been here. Nate’s heart raced. The man opened the case he had been carrying and took out two gray squares of putty.
Explosives.
“Oh shit.” His voice echoed through the empty hall.
He hopped up, wishing like hell he had his gun—not that a weapon was going to help him if the building collapsed. He circled the clean area and knelt down to run his fingers over it. There was an edge. He set his phone down, tracing the cut in the floor. The square popped up exposing two blocks of C-4.
He grabbed his phone and called the station. “I need the bomb squad out here now.” He told dispatch what he’d found, as well as the cross streets for the theater.
Then he got the hell out of dodge.
The SWAT team rolled up ten minutes later. Nate was at the back of the parking lot when John parked and got out of the unmarked sedan. He stared at the dilapidated theater and then back at Nate. “What in the hell were you doing all the way out here?”
“I went for a run.”
He cocked his head, crossing his arms. “And you ran through a hole in a chain-link fence, into an abandoned building, and just happened to pull up the floorboards and find explosives inside?”
“Well, when you say it like that …”
John chuckled and sighed. “Talk to me, Malone. What the hell is up with you?”
Nate shook his head. Even if he understood what was happening, this was one thing he couldn’t share with his partner.
“I was running by and noticed an idling car back here. When I approached, they peeled out and drove away. I got a partial on the plate, but I thought I’d better investigate.” He cleared his throat. “Any chance you could give me a lift back to my place?”
John pulled off his sunglasses. “You really ran here from your condo? Christ, Malone, that’s about fifteen miles. You training for a marathon or something?”
No wonder his legs were like limp spaghetti noodles. “I was trying to figure things out. I guess I lost track of how far I’d come.”
“Get in. The bomb squad’s got it from here.”
CHAPTER 6
T he police detective was becoming a problem.
The leader of the Order wasn’t going to be pleased. The enforcer carried his toolbox into his tiny apartment and locked the door. He’d barely gotten out of the parking lot unseen, and by the time the detonators were set to go off, the bomb squad had already completed their work.
The theater was still standing, an affront to the Order of the Titans.
If he couldn’t take down their precious theater, he would cross another muse off his list. He opened the cupboard by the sink and carefully removed the paper taped under the shelf. Nia was blacked out. Next in line, her roommate, Melpomene. The Muse of Tragic Poetry went by Melanie Jacoby now.
And her demise would definitely be poetic.
He sat in his stark living room envisioning scenarios. He could crack her head with a bat while she graded term papers. Or maybe
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