Lance Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

Evans leans against a shelf with a notebook already in his hand while Rico paces like a caged wolf. The Children of the Dagger, Lance Chapman, a war I never knew was fought, is clawing its way out of a shallow grave, and my wife is out of my sight, unaware of the danger she might be in. My knuckles ache, and I look down to see that my claws are now dug into the surface of my oak desk. I force my hand to relax, leaving deep gouges in the wood. It is Rico who finally breaks the heavy silence. “So, how did Lance end up getting married to Lolita?” he asks bluntly. “If he and Mildred were true mates, how did that happen?”

“Lance, I’m so very sorry…” “Shh…” He pressed a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to hear that word cross your lips. It’s me who is sorry. I was a total jackass. I said so many despicable things to you.” Her eyes widened, and Annalise felt the ridiculous urge to cry again as if she hadn’t done enough of that in the last few days. “First, I want to talk about this,” Lance said as he drew out from his back pocket, some ripped, wet pages from a magazine she knew well.

I laugh, tossing a pillow at him. “Yes I licked you!” He admits after a pause. “Why? I have alpha blood, I can heal myself!” I ask astonished by such an act. I watch Lance as he stands up from the edge of the bed and paces the floor. His hands run through his hair in frustration or from anger due to a bad memory that he is trying to fight internally. “Lance?” I push. “Because…” He turns raising his voice before stopping. “Because the thought of another man’s saliva in your blood drives me insane!”

“The Banshee did that?” Lance Armistice said contemplatively from across the cluttered desk. The hard-nosed trainee captain, after listening patiently to Allen’s retelling of Morose’s story, roughly stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. Although not the giant that Frank Brunes was nor as beefy as some of the other Hunters, Lance possessed an appearance of constant agitation, which made him difficult to approach.

It is ajar, just enough for her to glimpse inside. Lance sits slouched on the sofa, one arm hanging loosely over the armrest, a glass in hand. His shirt hangs open, buttons undone, exposing a chest sculpted with lean muscle. The sleeves are rolled high, veins visible beneath his skin, his forearms tense even in his drunken sprawl. In his other hand, a cigarette burns low, smoke curling lazily upward. The table beside him is littered with half a bottle of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. His head is bowed, heavy, like a man weighed down by ghosts.

"I would love to have sex." I pushed everything off the table, clanking as the cups and phones hit the floor. I pulled her up the table, and we started making out. Lips locking, tongue tangled. I lifted off my shirt, and she let down her hair, our bodies melting with each other's heat. Her moans were music to my ears, and her warm breath felt good on my skin. Pain hit my chest, and I glanced down to see a dark blue and black lance with the circumference of a basketball. It had pierced my heart. I looked up to see Lana melding with the lance. It had ripped through her as well.

I snap my eyes open to see what's going on. Luciano is back on his feet again and as if a switch had turned, he doesn’t look anything as before. The cold expression on his face earlier turns colder, now a perfect replica of blazing fury. I have never seen this look on his face either. He looks unhinged, hungry for blood and death as he moves towards his opponent with swift precision. “Il Fantasma! Il Fantasma! Il Fantasma!” the crowd keeps cheering while my heart keeps beating even faster.

“She didn’t know how deep I was in. How bad things had gotten.” Knox shifted, gripping the club tightly, his knuckles whitening. “There was this guy—Lance. A real piece of work. He and I ran together for years. Did a few jobs, made a bit of money. It wasn’t glamorous, but it kept me fed and out of the gutter. Anyway, Lance had this brilliant idea to rob a high-end jewelry store. It was supposed to be easy—quick in and out, no one gets hurt.”

I can sense that someone else is in the room, and I shift in my bed, forcing my sore and battered body into a sitting position. “Morning, sleepyhead,” Lance calls from the corner where he sits in an armchair. “How do you feel?” he continues, lifting his gaze from the tablet in his hands to meet mine. “Like I just survived hell,” I answer, reaching out for the black coffee and gulping it down. The liquid is hot, but the caffeine is needed after the last few days I have suffered because of my rut. “Well, technically, your body was trying to burn you,” Lance jokes with a chuckle, making me roll my eyes at him.

there was a wicked smile on his face. And then, he punched my whole face and pushed me across. I got up in time but that sucker was too fast to get caught.. Then he reached Aura and was crying with her mouth taped. This made me so furious. Pauline jumped to attack him with her magic but he dodged it. And caught Pauline with her neck, throwing her on the floor like a piece of trash. This action surely made Lance crazy and he plunged hard on his chest but the sucker dug his nails in his skin and poisoned him, then threw him..