Ellis Wakefield Novels & Stories

“I share this office with Sal. We’re investigating these attacks together, so she asked me to sit in on her meetings today.” “Of course,” I said, not really sure what I should say to that. “I’m Ellis – Ellis Nakai. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective.” D.I. Griff Wallis was older than Sally, his back hunched in its beige jacket, and his shirt buttoned up a little too high, so that his jowls bunched up underneath his doughy chin. But his rheumy eyes were kind, and old – the sort of old that looked as though they’d seen too much of the world, and they were tired.

(Jane’s POV) “Red or white, ma’am?” The waiter’s voice barely rose above the clink of silverware and the lazy hush of good music. He held the bottle with grace, label turned outward like a noiseless offer. I didn’t respond immediately. Across the table, Barry was mid-laugh—something quiet and composed, the laugh you give when you're not just winning, but enjoying it with restraint. He was seated two seats away, speaking with Commissioner Marcel and a delegate from West Virginia whose name I hadn’t committed to memory. Probably wouldn’t have to.

"You're making this up, aren't you?" Ellis gave a small, sharp laugh. "Why would I make this up? What good would that do me?" He looked at her with piercing eyes. "Do you have any idea how long he was in the hospital? It was four whole months before he woke up, and the first thing he did when he woke up wasn't worry about himself—all he cared about was finding you. But where were you? You were at Flynn's big house, having a great time, and you were going to have Flynn's baby."

That douche played Rossie's heart for too long, and now Ellisa wants to break him like some piece of twig. "I'll do that tomorrow since I'm on a day off." An evil grin plastered on her face. Ellisa didn't know how and at what time but she had fallen asleep. Nobody ever really realized until it was time to wake up that you have fallen asleep. Her alarm felt so much like a tsunami warning. When she looked at the time, she had to rush her way to the bathroom to give herself a quick shower and prepare for work.

Diana heard the supervisor talking to Hammond, she was talking about Elias. We can no longer call him that... he is Mathew Wade, a famous painter who was very successful some time ago and, according to Mr. Clive, you'll have it again. I like that boy. I never thought he was capable of doing what he's doing, but it's like they say... you shouldn't judge by appearances, right?

He keeps washing anyway. He feels the station’s fluorescent lights drilling into his skull. He feels hunger and nausea at the same time. He feels tired in a way that isn’t just sleep-deprivation. It’s deeper than that. It’s the kind of tired that sits behind your eyes and changes the way you see everything. “Tanaka,” Captain Ellis says. Kai turns. Ellis stands in the doorway, tall, broad, face carved from duty. His uniform is dry. Crisp. Like he never got near the water.

Wade frowned and said, "Don't play any tricks, Mister Penn. It's not good for you. You don't want to be in jail, do you?" "Of course not," Wilbur replied. A few vehicles drove toward them at high speed as they spoke and pulled over by the side. A few people then walked over quickly. Elsa was in her special agent uniform. She greeted Wilbur with a smile, "Boss!" Wilbur frowned and said, "Be serious." Wade instantly had a bad feeling. Elsa brought a few men with her. She smiled and said, "Let me introduce you. This is the editor of CNS, Lincoln Chess. This is the Director of the Municipal Propaganda Department, Jay Wonder."

The law of werewolves states you can only mark a mate that is also over 17, but since Ellie's birthday happened on the same day as Jake's they would have the same desire at the same time. Ellie woke Tuesday morning in a fog. She made her way toward the hall for breakfast, her bag slung over her shoulder. She saw Sam and Meredith and dropped her bag next to a chair before getting a cup of coffee. She set the coffee cup on the table and sat, staring into the dark depths of the liquid. She loved coffee. The bitter taste of the roasted bean matched her mood this morning as she thought bitterly about what had transpired the last week and a half since she had left home.

She explained, taking a bite of her cold pork and beans. “That’s nice, I think I’ve been there a couple of times. Just passing through, though.” Eli started rambling about some small restaurant he used to go to with his friends occasionally. “When we’d get bored on the weekends and we had a couple of extra dollars and enough gas, we’d take off to Cleveland and see if we could find a small restaurant to try. We usually did and it was always a fun time.” He laughed. The group sat around and talked about the good old days until the sun had been good and set. After a while, silence fell upon everyone and one by one they dozed off.

I snorted, shaking my head, and took a step back, to show I wasn’t into testosterone matches with dudes in uniform. A moment later, a masked suit came around the bend and down the hall toward the front desk, carrying a small package wrapped in brown paper. As he came closer, I thought he reminded me of the other man in room twelve on my first visit, the one who had read my police record, but I couldn’t be sure. The suit patted the guard’s shoulder softly, for the man to give him way, and approached me with a quick nod to the receptionist. “Good evening, Mr. Walsh,” he said, stopping only two feet away from me. “Mr. Ellis is out of town. He left this for you.”