Fury's Bridge Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  About the Author

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  Fury’s Bridge

  If you knew the gods worked from a building in Santa Monica, California, would it change you?

  Avenging fury Alectho (Alec) Graves has been tasked with saving the world, when she isn’t out seeking justice for those innocents who suffer at the hands of evil-doers. If she fails in her mission, those she loves will cease to exist.

  Selene Perkton is a philosophy professor in Los Angeles. She lives an ordinary, well scheduled life, and knows her place in it. When Alec appears, the world she thought she knew becomes a very different place.

  Can Alec and Selene put aside their differences, or will the evil lurking in the shadows manage to pull them apart?

  Fury’s Bridge

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Fury’s Bridge

  © 2017 By Brey Willows. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-842-9

  This Electronic book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.,

  New York, USA

  First Edition: March 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  Acknowledgments

  Knowing who to thank in your very first book seems like a monumental task. Writing has always been my passion, and to bring it to fruition in a book I’m particularly fond of is an exquisite feeling. Although I’ll thank several people here, there are many more who were a part of this amazing journey, and I’m grateful to all of them. Mom—thanks for keeping us above water, for always telling me I could, and for being willing to buy me piles of books whenever I asked. Brett Johnston—your encouragement and reminder that writing is about more than theory put me back on the road to word-passion, and I will be forever grateful. Radclyffe and Sandy—thanks for taking a chance on an oddball story from an oddball author; I’ve been proud to be a part of BSB for nearly a decade, and it’s very cool to be on the other side of the coin. Cindy Cresap—thanks for all you do, and for your insights. I’ve always looked up to you. And last, but certainly not least, to my partner Nic, who got me to plant my ass on the couch every night until this book was finished, and who stayed enthusiastic and sympathetic in the face of my grumpy imposter syndrome-ness. I couldn’t have done this without you by my side.

  Dedication

  For Nic, who saves me each and every day.

  Chapter One

  Selene Perkton rested her head against the cold train window, ignoring the drab passing scenery. Winter in California could be lovely, but it could also be grim. Every day, she drove the forty minutes from her mountain cabin to the park and ride in the city and then grabbed the train that took her to Cal State LA. It was a long ride, but worth it. She got the best of both worlds, mountains and city, and only had to drive a portion of it. She used the time to read, or write, or even sleep.

  That day, however, she couldn’t concentrate on anything but her dreams of the night before. Dark, vivid, sensual dreams that left her in a cold sweat. She couldn’t decide, even in the dream, whether she wanted the creature hunting her to find her or not. She would turn to run, then change her mind and turn to face the dark shape coming toward her, only to turn and flee again.

  “Hi, Selene. Another day, another dollar?”

  Selene looked up, startled from her reverie by the conductor. “Oh, hey, Mark. Sorry, I was miles away. Yeah, another dollar. Do you need to see my ticket?”

  Mark laughed, his big belly shaking under the tightly stretched uniform top. “You’ve been riding this train as long as I have, which is far too long. Like I’d ever need to see your ticket.” He hitched up his pants and winked at her. “Better get to the rest, though. Have a good one.”

  Selene smiled and turned her attention back to the passing scenery. Occasionally, she had intense talks with Mark when it wasn’t busy, usually about politics or religion. He was fanatical in his beliefs on both, and since she didn’t hold any belief in particular as sacred, she always found his fanaticism interesting. She wondered what he would make of her dark dreams.

  The disembodied voice announced their arrival at the Cal State station, and she glanced around. There were about ten other people in her carriage, so she’d wait for them to get off first. She hated the crush of bodies, people invading her personal space. She’d rather wait the extra sixty seconds and be able to move freely. When everyone appeared to be off, she made her way to the door, only to feel someone right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to apologize, as she’d obviously stepped out right in front of them. But no one was there.

  She shivered and rushed out into the crisp morning air. The city was cold in January, and it was just what she needed to drive away the feeling of being watched. She hurried to her office, keeping her face to the weak winter sun.

  *

  Alec Graves watched as her target left the train platform. She didn’t need to follow her. She knew exactly where the woman’s office was, when she would have her mid-morning coffee, where she would have her lunch, and what time she would board the train home. She knew the woman felt her presence, which was surprising in itself, though perhaps it shouldn’t be, given the reason Alec was following her in the first place.

  What Alec didn’t know was how to initiate contact. Generally, she just made her presence known to anyone she needed to talk to, and then made sure they didn’t remember the occasion. But this time it was different. She needed to tread carefully, and although she knew the woman’s routine inside and out, she didn’t know much about her deepest thoughts and needs, and without that knowledge she didn’t know how to begin.

  She glanced at the screen on her cell phone before she answered. “Hey, Ama. What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a double for you, up near Tahoe. Details are sketchy, so you might want to dig before letting loose.”

  “Got it. Address?”

  She memorized the address and hung up. Streams of diluted sunlight created
faint shadows on the train platform, and she moved carefully, staying in the dark sections created by the light. The job in Tahoe was a relief, of sorts. The time away from Selene Perkton might give her some clarity and provide a way to get into the woman’s life. While they still had some time, she would need a good chunk of it to get Selene’s cooperation and understanding, which meant there wasn’t all that much left over.

  A black Hummer pulled up to the curb, and she jumped into the driver’s seat. For now, she could concentrate on the new job. When she got back, she would decide what to do about Selene.

  *

  Selene stretched, feeling the muscles popping in her shoulders. Surrounded by concrete, she suddenly felt the need to get out in the open air. The creepy feeling of being watched had disappeared once she’d left the train station, and she put it off to being overtired. Her cell rang and she smiled at the name on the screen.

  “Hi, babe. How’s things?”

  “Great. Running the numbers on that big white-collar case I told you about. I just wanted to be sure we were still on for dinner.”

  Selene could hear the distraction in Mika’s voice, a tone she knew well. “Yeah, of course. If you’re sure you can spare the time?”

  “For you, anything. I’ll see you at seven. Bye for now.”

  Selene shook her head as she hung up. With Mika, seven meant seven. Not a minute earlier or later. When they’d first started dating, she’d watched from the window as Mika stood at the curb, staring at her watch until it was the time they’d agreed on. Only then had she come to the front door. Although she occasionally found it a bit tedious, she appreciated Mika’s steadfast, constant ways. Something she’d had to forgo most of her life. Although “anything” might be a stretch. If what they wanted to do differed, it was usually Mika’s preference they catered to.

  She shook off the melancholy spreading through her. Time for a walk. She grabbed her simple, no label purse and headed out, glad she’d worn her sensible shoes instead of the cute heels. Those she’d never worn, but she looked at them almost daily, deciding whether the day was special enough. It never was.

  She stepped into the open air and instantly felt a little bit better. She started a slow, steady stroll around the square, stopping here and there to watch students playing Frisbee or acting out plays from their English classes. Selene never got tired of watching humanity, even though she always felt slightly outside it. All her life, she’d been apart from the community around her. In social situations she could chat with other people, making the requisite small talk, but there was always a feeling of awkwardness, of being “other.” She had no idea what it was that made her seem that way, or feel that way. When she was young she’d been desperate to figure it out, to understand what it was so she could fix it and be like other people. People who had friends, and went to parties, and had coffee mixed with innuendo and gossip. But no matter how hard she tried, or what she did, it never worked. She wasn’t one of “them,” whoever “them” was. Even among the other philosophy professors, who were generally considered an odd bunch anyway, she still felt less-than. Logically, she knew how stupid that was, as she was their intellectual equal without question. And yet…

  “Heads up!”

  She ducked the neon Frisbee that brushed strands of her hair as it whizzed past her head.

  “Oh my God, Professor Perkton, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  She smiled at one of her most promising students. “I’m fine. I should have been paying attention, and I might have been able to throw it back.”

  The student gave a little laugh. “Cool. Did you want to play?”

  “Thank you, no. I need to head back. I just wanted some air. Have fun.”

  “Yeah. Um, Professor?” The young woman looked down at her Birkenstocks before glancing back up.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you…I mean, I know I’m a student and all, but do you think…could we…you know, go for a drink some time?”

  Selene felt that familiar flutter in her stomach, the one that reminded her she was still a woman, still desirable, and could feel pleasure at someone else noticing that too. “Thank you, but I’m afraid the ethics here are indisputable. Though it’s all semiotics and driven by convention, they’re conventions we must live by to continue with our moral laden societies.”

  The student looked somewhat crestfallen, though it was clear she was also considering the nature of the response.

  “Thank you, though. The thought is appreciated. See you in class.” Selene wandered back to her office, feeling lighter than she had before. Her course on constructivist philosophy was due to start in half an hour, and she needed a good five minutes to make it to King Hall. On the way, she thought about the student’s invitation. She’d been invited out many times over the course of her teaching career, but she’d never been tempted. The age gap had always seemed more significant than a number of years might imply. It was the experience, the knowledge, the craving for ever intensifying questions that captured her interest, and a twenty-year-old didn’t quite have that yet. Neither does Mika. She brushed the thought away. Perhaps not, but she was passionate about her own area of knowledge. And maybe that was enough.

  Chapter Two

  Alec watched the trio of people standing on the grass in front of a dilapidated house. Though she couldn’t see her, she knew there was also a small girl hiding behind the rusted car sitting on blocks in the driveway.

  The two men, both with shaved heads and covered in more tattoos than clothing, were berating the woman for something she’d not done correctly. At least, that was Alec’s take on the situation. What she also knew was that all three of them were out of their heads on drugs. The woman pled her case, her attention constantly wandering off until one of the men shouted at her again. Alec had seen enough. She turned away and headed to a local coffee shop to wait for night.

  At eleven, when the streets were empty of all but those who had nowhere else to go on a freezing winter’s night, she walked up to the house. As usual, she left no footprints even in the fresh snow. The door was locked, but that never mattered. A quick flick of her hand and the lock was undone. The room was strewn with empty beer cans, pizza boxes covered in mold, and various pieces of drug paraphernalia. She had little time for drug users, and even less so for those who forced children into that world. She cocked her head and listened. The child and her mother were sleeping in another room, which was good. Although there was rarely any overflow, working on two people at once was always more risky. She’d decided to leave the woman alone and send someone else from the organization to come fix the woman and child, if such a thing were possible.

  She leaned over the two men, who were passed out next to each other on the worn, frayed couch. Holding a hand above each of their mouths, she concentrated and brought out the old magic. She felt it tingle in her palms before the silky black mist began to float around them. She directed it into their mouths, forcing it down their throats. Within a few minutes, both men began to twitch and groan. She released the fog and stepped away, eager to get out of the foul smelling house. The men would have terrible nightmares that would progressively get worse, until they were driven mad, day and night. Had they been wicked enough to warrant a visit from her snakes, the progression would have been quicker, nastier. But as they hadn’t killed anyone, yet, they’d have years to live before the madness took them completely. Such was the justice of the furies; death was too quick for those who inflicted a lifetime of abuse on others. For that, they would pay with their sanity.

  Just as she was about to step outside, she saw a little head peek around the corner. She put a finger to her lips and motioned the child back to bed. Wide-eyed, she disappeared back into the squalid darkness. This. This is what happens when people think of nothing but themselves. Her work wasn’t always fun, but she believed in it more now than perhaps she ever had. She got back in the Hummer and headed to L.A. Time to put Selene into action.

  *

  Selene
covered her yawn and tried to look interested, but Mika had been going on about the financial aspects of the case she was working on for nearly an hour. As someone who didn’t find numbers appealing, Selene had trouble following the minutia of the conversation, though she grasped the big picture. It was one area of many where she and Mika agreed to disagree. Mika felt it was important for people to work hard, to consume in order to build the economy, and that no one should be given a hand up they hadn’t worked for. Selene, on the other hand, believed in achieving all you could, in order to put it back into society to make the world a better place. While both of them were atheists, Mika took a hard line on religion, calling anyone who believed “a superstitious Neanderthal.” Whereas Selene found the different religions of the world fascinating and believed in a more live-and-let-live ideology, thanks to the fact that religion and society were value laden constructs anyway.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  Selene started and realized her eyes had begun to close. “I’m so sorry. It was a long day at work.”

  “Oh? Some student question you too hard?”

  Selene frowned, as always irritated by Mika’s teasing, yet stinging, assertion that teaching was a mediocre profession taught by mediocre people to mediocre students at a mediocre university. “No. I was working on my journal article for The Philosopher, between teaching my courses.”

  Mika stretched, and Selene could see her rib bones through the thin T-shirt. One thing Mika deplored was excess, and that included eating anything she considered unhealthy in any way. Which meant dinner at her place usually consisted of lentils or soy, and never anything that had breathed or had more than one preservative.