The Lurker Above Novels & Stories

"One name, Lucien Dorne, and the entire underworld information network freezes." Lyra whispered to herself, her silver eyes reflecting the lines of code scrolling rapidly across the crystal screen before her. In her hidden data fortress, she was hunting a ghost. The fall of the Bramasta family was big news, but to Lyra, it was merely a ripple on the surface. The real storm was brewing below, and that storm had a name. She had begun her own private investigation, a move unprompted by Rayden.

Uriel continued to sing the theme song from the human television show, Loki rolling on the bed with his arms on his stomach, laughing. Sighing, I pinched my nose with my thumb and index finger. Her little bounce and dance had me staring at her far too hard as her skirt swished around. Chuckling, I sat in the chair that was typically covered in clothes and sighed at the situation. “Why Lurch though?” Loki grinned. “What makes you think of Lurch when you look at Lucifer?” Uriel stuck out her hip, putting her hand on it. Her finger tapped her lips, something she liked to do. They were lush and shiny, the pink gloss she wore highlighted that best feature.

Pulses of humanity obstinate and loud against something feral and coiled beneath it all. I found myself waking up more often than not to watch Evelina sleep. Guarding tunnel entrances. Listening for footsteps that echoed wrong. Palming walls for magic that didn’t belong. Someone else was lurking. Not Interregnum High Command. Not even a tactical team. Something subtle. Silent even. Not everything had to announce itself with metal and bone. Some hunters were librarians. Archivists. Collectors. Witnesses. Either way, we still had a semester left. And a war to win.

“I think we’d better hurry.” Ru was walking already and Lyric’s words didn’t cause her to pause, but she did raise an eyebrow before asking, “Why is that?” “Just a feeling.” Before Ru could comment, there was a scurrying sound up in the loft area. Ru stopped and looked up. Across the ceiling, a black shadow began to creep. The form reminded her of a large lizard, but this one had two heads. “What the hell is that?” “That… is a Creeper,” Lyric replied, stepping up beside her. “And where there’s one, there’s a thousand.”

CHAPTER 45 Camryn's POV The Class D anomaly died with a wet gurgle, my umbrella blade buried in what passed for its throat. Twenty-five credits. Barely enough for a week’s rent. I wiped the black ichor off my blade and sheathed it, looking at the corpse. This one had been a Lurker, something that hid in shadows and whispered lies until you got close enough for it to strike. Stage I Hunters died to these things regularly. I’d killed it in under two minutes.

"You don't like Mr. Who." "I don't like proles in general, and I also don't like your getting so close to this thing." With a strange look, Nick watched the little lizard, who concentrated on devouring its mealworm and then fixed Nick with her yellow eyes. “Other girls always loved seeing him. Safe behind bars. They could look at it closely without having to worry that it would harm them. They were fascinated by it. " "People are also fascinated by fire," I countered creepingly. "At least until they burn on it."

“Yes, he’s here. And he doesn’t appreciate you calling him a creep. He prefers the term voyeur.” Hakeem’s brows lifted as he snorted. While he might’ve found the comment amusing, I sure as fuck didn’t. “How about coward? I think that’s much more fitting. Why don’t you show your face—your actual face, and tell us what you know? It seems like the Whisperer is hiding from something, or someone. Go ahead and tell me I’m wrong.” Lilac’s gaze returned to where the Whisperer must’ve been standing. I recognized the way she clenched her jaw and pinched her lips. She must’ve not liked what he was saying.

Nothing except for tarantulorus rex. There was no sign of any spider, which meant it had either scuttled back into its hidey-hole or it was currently residing somewhere on me. After randomly brushing and flicking various parts of myself, and shuddering at the thought of what might be crawling around inside my shirt, I continued to the bottom of the stairs. Loran was lying on one of the tables, grey, pasty and corpse-like. Black gunk had congealed across his throat and pooled on the tabletop. It was a strange way to celebrate your birthday, although it made people very easy to shop for.

“It would be my pleasure to tell him your little secret.” I had felt the shift in the room instantly, dozens of eyes turning toward her, toward me. And then she lied. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Calm voice, steady gaze but not steady enough. I knew a lie when I saw one. I had built an empire reading people, knowing when they were bluffing, when they were hiding, when they were selling me something they didn’t believe in themselves. Lila was hiding something. But when Max lunged for her, even the twitch of his hand toward her I hadn’t thought.

And from deep beneath the temple, something answered. A low, echoing growl. Lyla’s pulse spiked. Because it wasn’t just a memory. It was waking up. And whatever had been buried here it was never meant to stay asleep. The growl rumbled through the chamber deep, guttural, ancient. Lyla’s breath caught. It wasn’t coming from the First Alpha. It was coming from below. Beneath the stone. Beneath the carvings. Beneath the very place they stood.