Every Tuesday I will share a teaser from Work in Progress' only.
So it will be teasers from all unpublished manuscripts. Nothing from already published books.
This weeks teaser is taken from another scene from Charged.
Please remember it is still a rough draft so there will be mistakes and details are subject to change. Plus after reading through it I already know I need to add a little more background detail here and there.
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Boston Industrial Harbour
Back pressed against the rough stone of the lower harbour tunnel, I kept my head at an angle as I glared at the continuous twist of the clouds. I hated storms; they made my body feel sluggish and my brain feel fuzzy as hell.
So coming outside in the middle of a storm and getting soaked by the on slaughter of rain wasn’t the best idea in the world. Plus, the tightness of my inner hood really wasn’t helping the pressure that was building in my temples. One would have thought that after a decade of wearing the stupid suit, the claustrophobia from being trapped inside rubber would have initially worn off; no such luck. Not like I wore the damn thing for comfort any way, simple safety precaution so I didn’t accidentally kill anyone I walked past.
I grimaced as a thunder clap sounded above me. My jaw clenched as the static in my temples pulsed through my head. The weight of my grey jogging pants and large black hoodie became painfully obvious as I shifted from foot to foot; the soaked cotton was an added weight I really didn’t need at this particular moment.
I lifted my head and looked to my left as footsteps echoed around me. Marcus’ familiar form skulked toward me as he popped his umbrella, and let it dropped to his side. “We really need a new meeting place.”
His eyes had darkened since this morning, evident lines marking the skin below his eyes. “You really look like shit today.”
“It’s been a tiring couple of days.”
“I’m sparking.” I stepped back as he walked closer to me. “So, unless you want to take a lengthy nap, I would stay there.”
His steps faltered; understanding blossomed on his face. “So, I take it by us meeting this means you’ve decided to assist me?” He took four steps back.
“There are holes in this case the size of Niagara Falls, please tell me you at least see that?”
He nodded, his gaze wandering to the gloom lying outside the wide tunnel. “I agree a few things aren’t adding up.”
A few things? “Dragging a boy from Florida just to kill him in New Mexico doesn’t make sense.”
“How doesn’t it? He was covering his tracks. He didn't want to be caught. He wouldn‘t be the first killer to make such a decision.”
My eyebrows rose in unison. “Seven states is a bit extreme, particularly if you’re all going with the whole "savage" angle.” I tilted my head to the side. “I thought it was common knowledge that once a Gene-Breed has gone savage, human sense has fled?”
“He might have only triggered, which means he’d currently be battling between what's right and wrong. Once he picked up the boy . . . he might have panicked and instead of dropping him off at the police station and running, he took the boy with him.”
I snorted. “You honestly think that?”
“I believe it’s a strong possibility.”
“Well then, you haven't done enough research. The first thing you should know is Chris never hesitates on decisions. Secondly, as everyone knows, savages don't panic; they go on instinct, even if they have only just triggered.”
“Then it was done purposely. He took the kid and in the end he gave in to his primal instincts. Now he feels guilty.”
“If he was savage he would have pounced, killed, and not run at all. No way would any savage drag a kid around just to kill him within another zip code.”
His jaw tensed. “Then that only leaves one option; he must have been taking the boy to someone.”
I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head. “I already told you, Christopher would never take a job that involved children. I can promise you that.”
Something dark rippled across his expression as he looked at me. “You believe this because he helped, Lynthia?”
And it looked like Lynthia‘s History: 101, really did get to the calm and collected Detective.
Another thunder clap boomed, and a flash struck across the gray sky. My brow tightened. “Lynn's situation is one factor.” I gritted out as I forced myself to walk; pace—do something to ignore the pain.
“If I'd have known—”
I shook my head and glanced at him. “For your own peace of mind don't go down that route, Marcus. That type of shit has been going on way before any of us were born and will no doubt continue once we're gone.”
His jaw was tense; a muscle ticking in the side of his neck. “That doesn't make it right.”
“I never said that it did, but there are some sick people in this world. They were here way before the “scary” Gene-Breeds and they always will be.” I laugh grated my throat. “Yet, the child molesters, and murders, and petty crooks get fair trials because they are straight up homo-sapiens. They're judged on their actions alone, not their genetic make-up.”
“I get your point already, Delaney.”
“Good, because you need to understand why Chris is running, and also that as much as you would no doubt love to put O’Brien’s ass on death row—and trust me, you’re not the only one—McKenzie and his boys are too far up to be touched. They have the Chief in their back-pocket, and they won’t hesitate to cause trouble for you.” I looked at him as I continued pacing. “They could kill you and your Chief wouldn’t bat an eyelash. The news would say you died on the job, and people would believe it ‘cos you’re a cop.”
His expression darkened. “I understand.”
“Good. Now, if we go back to the theory of Chris taking the boy somewhere, well, you need to step away and look at what that would mean. If he was taking the boy to someone, then he definitely didn't kill him. You don’t damage your delivery, which leaves one other possibility; another Gene-Breed killed the boy.”
Copyright © 2017, Charged, Elizabeth Morgan