Cross Roads Novels & Stories

I would never forget that blond hair and those bright green eyes, eyes that had been brilliant and elated were now haunted. Bret kept sending me looks in the rearview mirror but I studiously ignored him. He knew how important today was and he was driving me toward the meeting. Darren, my other guard, kept watch on the sidewalks, ready to take care of any threat that might arise while we were navigating our way through Bianchi territory to get to the lawyer’s office. The Bianchi’s didn’t yet know that we had hired a law firm on the border of the territories, but after today’s press conference, they would. Then, it would be a terror to navigate to the office from our southern territory since i

Knox and Cass load sniper rifles onto their bikes as Phoenix sets up mobile communication equipment. Within twenty minutes, we're riding toward the Crossroads. The truck stop appears in the pre-dawn darkness—exactly what it sounds like. Three highways intersecting, a massive parking lot, a 24-hour diner, and a gas station that's seen better decades. Neutral territory by treaty. No pack can claim it, no alpha can enforce laws here. It's where rogues meet, where illegal deals go down, where wolves come when they need to be anonymous. Perfect for a secret meeting or a perfect ambush.

Celeste laughed, low and delighted. The road narrowed until the trees scraped paint. Then it opened into a clearing that shouldn’t fit between two pines. A single streetlamp flickered in the center. Under it stood a crossroads sign made of bone and rusted iron. Four directions: NORTH: Where the Veil was born SOUTH: Where the dead still vote EAST: Where the sun lost a bet WEST: Where Coyote keeps his best lies A chalkboard leaned against the post: PARK HERE. WALK THE REST.

Everywhere was dark in the illuminating moonlight. The crescendo moon smiling widely, yet the smile faded at the horn of a car speeding to him. Smoke lingered around, blurring the vision. Ryan’s eyes were swollen and so red it seemed someone punched him hard. Rubbing them dry, he did not consider the oncoming danger he might have. He was crossing the road with no knowledge of his surrounding. The wide road spread across the long deserted road, with a few cars seldom crossing the street.

"We abandon the mounts at the split, send them down the main road, and go on foot through the track." I felt it click. "So kade's men follow the horses." "For long enough," he said. "Do it," Rylan said. That was the end of the conversation. The thirty minutes felt like ten. The crossroads appeared through the tree line, two dirt paths cutting through the forest, the left one wide and well-worn, the right one barely visible, its entrance half-eaten by overgrowth and weed. The branches on the right path looked like they'd been trying to close that door for years.

Inspector Eallric's 404 picked up pace as it raced down a sloped, remote alleyway which went on below a bridge that connected Brickfield Row and Dove Route together. The alley, Providence Passage, had congested waste bins - places of tourism for flies and maggots, nearly everywhere one's neck turned.

I responded with a glare. The shorter staff cleared his throat. "If you'll both kindly show us your key cards, we can straighten this out." "gladly," I huffed, shoving mine forward. Mr. Smug did the same, sliding his out with infuriating calm. the staff scanned both cards, their brows furrowing. My stomach churned. Finally, the shorter one looked up nervously. "There's been a double booking. Both of you are registered to this suite." I blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

Nicholas muttered to himself before quickly dialing Madison's number. The moment the call got through, Madison asked, "Is Astrid still nowhere to be found? Several of my collaborations have been canceled, and I've also lost my endorsements!"

… Isolde gave Seraphina’s family a polite nod, her smile composed and elegant. “Having weddings on the same day is a kind of fate, isn’t it? “Let me and my husband also offer our congratulations.”

My only saving grace was that the door was wide open, so I doubted he’d try anything. “Are you ok Miss Cross?” he questioned. Something clicked for me. “How do you know my name?” “It’s on the register,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Except it says Hunt on the register.” He scratched the back of his neck, bringing my attention to his delicious arms. “Lucky guess?” There was something strange going on here, but I ignored it as I smirked, walking up to him. “Mr Cage whose full name I don’t know, you’re coming off as a stalker right now.”