Human Cross Sans Novels & Stories

Ronan said with the casual cruelty of someone who saw women as interchangeable commodities. "I'll be there in thirty minutes," Cross said, already mentally checking out of the conversation. He ended the call and moved toward the wardrobe. He pulled out a simple black shirt and dark jeans, clothes that would let him disappear into the night without drawing attention. As he changed, Marceline found herself watching the familiar routine, the way he folded his discarded clothes with military precision, the way he checked his reflection once in the mirror by habit rather than vanity. Cross picked up his car keys and walked toward where Marceline still stood by the door, her body language suggesti

The guy rasped in a deep tone as he helped her to her feet. She quickly stepped back mumbling a quick sorry while tugging her strands behind her ear. She glanced at the guy to find him staring at her. He was tall, with tan skin and a good body. What got her eyes were the cross earrings in both of his ears and the tattoo on his neck. His fashion sense somehow resembles someone else's. "You must be Silvia," He said, gazing at her with curiosity. "Lennox." She said confidently and the guy clicked his tongue smirking. "That's me," He mused.

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

There laying on the ground was a small wooden cross. Shana gasped in horror. The crucifix was covered in fresh cuts and was cracked in half. Her heart was racing and breathing became harder. Shana couldn't take her eyes off of it. Shana felt faint and started coughing. She leaned forward clutching her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes.

I stepped into it, and in the mirror, I didn’t see the girl chasing Nathan Cross. I saw the woman standing beside him. The price? $24,500. I didn’t blink. I walked to the counter, head high. The clerk didn’t bother hiding her skepticism—her eyes dipped to my sandals, then flicked to my face. “I’ll take it,” I said. Her smile stretched. Fake. Patronizing. “Mr. Cross must approve all charges. Surely you understand.” I didn’t flinch. Just slid the Centurion card across the counter. Aeternum Cross. My name—Lana Reyes—engraved in silver.

The Crossbearer. Fuck.

The ones in the lead were Undead Joey and Dallas. Undead Joey was in a long, black robe. He wore an eyepatch like a pirate and carried a small medical box made out of ebony behind his back. The box was his innate weapon. Next to him was a ferocious thug-like man with half of his shoulder exposed. It was Dallas, the Supernatural Cannon. He had two huge machetes behind his back, and he was wearing a hat made out of a mountain goat. Dallas was known as the Supernatural Cannon because of his unique ability. To describe it coarsely, it was farting. It was a move that was well-hated by everyone, and it was below everyone's dignity to point out his despicable technique.

“At least enough to stand on your own. You think you can walk away empty-handed and he won’t find another way to come after you? That’s not how men like Ares operate.” Susan says what I have been scared to say out loud or think of. Of a truth, I need his money as much as I wish I didn't. Silence falls for a moment, broken only by the hum of Sloane’s refrigerator. I close my eyes and lean back into the chair, feeling like the walls are inching closer. “What do we do?” My voice thins. Susan sits across from me, folding her hands. “We need leverage. I have contacts who can help us, but nothing is free. It will take money. And access.”

I knocked once and went in anyway. Xena was in the chair by the window. Cross was sitting up against the pillows, color better than the night before, the bruising along his jaw gone from black to a dull yellow-green. He looked at me the way men in his condition didn't usually have the strength to look at anyone, like he'd been saving the energy for exactly this. "Mr. Yale." "Mr. Cross." Xena didn't say anything. She watched me cross the room, probably deciding later what to do with what she'd seen.

Not despite her power, but because of it. "I am Maya Cross," she continued, her voice carrying absolute conviction. "I am a White Luna, a bloodline created to protect, to heal, to bridge the gap between human and supernatural worlds. I choose not to hide anymore." She raised both hands, and silver light poured from her palms. But instead of energy or fire, the light formed images in the air. Holographic projections visible not just to us in the room, but to everyone watching the livestream. The first image was of Sarah Chen. Not Sarah as she looked now, exhausted and terrified. But Sarah laughing in a chemistry lab, helping another student with an experiment.