16 Lighthouse Rd Novels & Stories

Annie asked without taking a breath. “No, Big Bob isn’t in trouble. It’s just something that I don’t like to talk about,” Lindsay told her reassuringly. “OK, I just don’t want to get him in trouble. We should be close. We are looking for 64532 Riot Road. There it is,” Annie said as she turned into the driveway. -

"Roric's security team. They're moving the Crystal now, Luna. They must have been alerted." "We're too late for the initial takedown, but not too late to intercept the move," I stated, shifting our strategy instantly. "The Lighthouse is warded, Zeva. It's designed to keep thieves out. But a mage who relies on wards usually relies on a power source. We neutralize the source and take the Crystal." We took an old smuggler's path up the treacherous coastal cliffs. The Lighthouse stood alone, a massive stone pillar against the stormy sky, its base surrounded by a thick, shimmering curtain of elemental wards.

Kimberly turned it off. She slowed as she reached the entrance to the great big parking lot lighted with bright streetlamps on tall poles and chock full of muddy pickups and enormous sport utility vehicles. Rowdy’s itself was a gray shingled square building in the center of the lot, complete with giant neon sign over the door proclaiming it Rowdy’s Roadhouse and Motor Inn. The sign had two arrows. One pointed at the door below it, the other straight up—presumably indicating the long, low building at the back of the lot, which had its own neon sign advertising rooms for rent.

Ruin said. “And that?” I pointed towards the horizon where the edge of the city fused with the darkness around. “Can’t you see the rotating beacon at the top? It’s a lighthouse, belladonna. Although everything about that lighthouse is quite dark,” he said. “What do you mean?” Ruin pulled out the quill from his inner coat. “That’s where they prepare this special ink and quill,” he said and put the quill back in his coat. “What’s dark about it?” I asked.

By the time she reached the heavy wooden door at the base of the tower her hair was plastered to her face and her hands had gone numb. She pounded once. Then again. The door opened on a man in a thick sweater and work pants, dark hair wet at the edges from a recent check of the lantern. Mid-forties. Broad. The kind of face that looked like it had not needed to soften for company in a long time. He took one look at her—soaked, shivering, no flashlight—and stepped aside. “Get in.” The lower room of the lighthouse smelled of kerosene, old rope, and salt. A single iron stove threw heat from the corner. Harlan bolted the door against the wind and turned. Rain hammered the stone walls hard enough

Its red eye catches me off guard; I step away from the counter, holding my breath. The rabbit continues on until it's out of sight. There are back doors in the hall that lead outside. It has large windows and dark handles, and I unlock them to venture into the night. There's a small porch with a bench and empty flower pot. The porch steps lead straight into a sparse patch of grass like stone steps that descend directly into the ocean. My eyes bounce around for the rabbit even though I know I am out here for other reasons.

Because he is patient He is kind He does not envy He is... VIƬƬӨЯIӨ ƧƬΛПZӨᄂIӨ Past- July 22nd, 2032 Johnny, Jessie, and I all entered The Blazing Lights. The Blazing Lights is one of the biggest clubs there is on the earth. So, it was going to be more fun than all the other times we went out clubbing. The first thing I see once entering the club is the sweating bodies dancing to loud, bass-filled music. The bright, blinding, strobe lights illuminate the otherwise pitch-black club. I guess that’s why they call it The Blazing Lights.

"Tonight, the road stays outside. Tonight, you don't take a single step that I don't provide for you." He kicked the door shut behind us, the interior of the lighthouse bathed in the amber glow of a dozen candles Jax and Vulture must have lit before our arrival. The room smelled of cedar, expensive bourbon, and the wild, clean scent of the ocean. He carried me up the spiral stone stairs, his heart beating a steady, powerful rhythm against my chest. When we reached the lantern room at the top—the space we had converted into our private sanctuary—he finally set me down. The room was a circle of glass, looking out over the churning, white-capped waves.

Just homeless folks or teens loitering there, none of it tied to our source. Day two, we broadened the search way out. Still nothing concrete. I was beginning to despair, thinking that perhaps she had cleared out of the whole area entirely, when Amaya called with actual useful information. “This is an important discovery. Isabelle bought the property through a business that is six layers deep in corporate cover. It takes me a long time to unravel all the dummy corporations and move the accounts offshore. It is an old lighthouse thirty miles north of your current location. She bought it two weeks ago after sending a threatening text from the airport,” I replied. “Give me the exact coordinates

one shouted, and the sound of footsteps grew perilously closer. Without a moment’s hesitation, Grey grabbed Lisa’s hand, pulling her away from the noise; they rabbits leaping from brush to shelter as Tessy's team began to change directions, the shadows pooling around them just as the sky grew darker. “Just ahead! The lighthouse!” Grey pointed as they rounded a bend, the structure looming above the treetops like a sentry keeping watch over land and sea. Its whitewashed walls glimmered through the rain, a beacon of hope just out of reach.