Sherlock Holmes 2 Novels & Stories

That comment earned a deadly glare from the Fallen. “Well, now that the case was close. Detective Sherlock is now signing off. Adios!” And then he disappeared, again, into the thin air.

Was she not only amnesiac but going insane? She resumed browsing her smartphone and looking at the unfamiliar contacts and trying to identify them in her mind, but to no avail. A number of her chat conversations had been deleted, suggestive that her accident could be planned, and more than meets the eye. Shortly after that, she had a slight chat with the doctor to understand her condition, and before he left, the doctor informed her that he would refer her to a psychologist for further management. So, the doctor believed that she was really going mad, then? She huffed with displeasure at the thought.

“And you didn’t think to mention there could be more than one?” Hamish looked at me calmly. “I didn’t know until today.” “That’s not comforting,” I snapped. “It wasn’t meant to be,” Hamish replied. Ashen rubbed his temples. “I don’t want another voice. I can barely handle Solven.” Hamish stepped closer. “Listen to me carefully. This second consciousness is not like Solven. Solven is awake, aware, and capable of speaking to you. This one is instinctual. Primitive. A remnant.”

Elaine clutched at Malcolm's arm, her voice laced with alarm as she said, "Malcolm, are you really going to ruin James's succession ceremony? How could you bear to break his heart?" James, Malcolm's only pup, had always been a compelling reason for his compromise—however, not at that moment. Malcolm shook off Elaine's grip without a second glance at James, shifted into his wolf form, and bolted for home. He was met with nothing but an empty room, every trace of Mila gone.

A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bottle of whisky on his desk. Suddenly, the lights went out. At first it was a flicker—an almost polite interruption. Then the whole building inhaled the night: corridors flattened into shadow; monitors died and cameras turned off. For a beat the silence was almost elegant. The darkness spread through the high-ceilinged floors and down the marble stairways, swallowing the soft clink of glass and the rustle of paper. “Power outage sir,” someone muttered close to the door. “Emergency generator—” “Find it! Damn it!” Holmes snapped. His secretary suddenly stood up and waited in the corner of his desk. He hated puzzles. He hated interruption

Get out of my house. My house? That beggar had the guts to call Asher's home as hers. Now Shanice had shattered her sense of belongingness beyond hope. Serena wasn't left with no home now. Shanice had personally helped the detective in finding out about their affair. The woman had her sources too. As fate would have it, Susan was another investigator from the same agency Serena had hired her investigator from. Susan had contacted her immediately after she heard her name involved in the case. To say Shanice was ecstatic would be an understatement. That's what she wanted. She wanted Serena to investigate the matter and get hurt over and over again.

And shes there that night! “But strangely... though you are unconscious, you didn't have any internal wounds,” she added after seeing the suspicious in my eyes. She prove as he added the jade, “That contain our recent activity. The whole association hunts the rumored Lycan who cause chaos in the secluded island beneath the Thousand-Volcanoes-” I raise my brows upon the heard of it. “So what did you discover, then?” I ask just as I cut her off. She seems don't mind the cut off and continued with a strange expression, “This is confidential-”

Sherlock thought that Chad's behaviour was strange but he figured he might have gone inside to contact his parents to inform them of the situation taking place on their ranch. “I’ll speak to him later.” About to re-enter the barn, Sherlock accidentally bumped his leg into the pitchfork that Chad stuck into the ground. “Ouch, who put this in the way?” He thought it would cause another accident and decided to move it. The moment he grasp the handle, the device in his other hand started beeping. “What is it now?” Sherlock perused the device interface and recognized that it was displaying traces of Outer Burst energy. “Where is it coming from?” He quickly identified the source. “This pitchfork?

My mouth gaped open. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding?” the stranger chuckled. But the laugh didn’t meet his intense darkened eyes as they scowled, scanning from Fiona to me. “We’ve been looking for you, Quiet One. Smart to swim away so we’d lose your scent. But you knew we’d find you… eventually. And how I’ll be rewarded on The Hill once I bring you back.” My eyes slit.

On that particular day, I was off to check out a charity project in another city. Right after my plane touched down, I got a text from Keith with a photo attached. It showed Sarah and a man in a beat-up Wadewell Group uniform, both of them sneaking into a van. [Ms. Jones, looks like Sarah and Wade are up to no good. Should we keep tabs on them?] I could not help but wonder what kind of trouble they were cooking up together. [No need to tail them. Just keep an eye on their whereabouts and keep them away from the company and any fund-related spots.]