The Whistler John Grisham Novels & Stories

It was a freezing whisper that carried the weight of a death sentence. The second assassin tried to raise his gun, his hands shaking violently. "Volkov, stay back or I'll-" Victor didn't let him finish. In a blur of monstrous speed and raw violence, he closed the distance. He caught the man’s extended wrist, twisting it until the bone shattered with a loud crack, forcing the gun to drop. Before the man could even scream, Victor’s fist slammed into his throat, crushing his windpipe instantly. The man choked, collapsing to the floor, gasping for air that would never come.

Claire, Kathryn, Violet, Gold, and Crystal first appeared spaced out before their enemies, then an army of tormented and haunted whispers appeared behind them, and Rose materialized before her party. The Baron, a slim man with deadly yellow eyes, saw her, and shivered. He tried to vanish, but the air rejected his request, for Violet held him still. The sea raged against his party and began to pick them off, and fire fell amongst their midst, burning the men to cinders, but leaving the whispers to bask in the warmth of the flame. A blizzard came from Claire, and the ground shook. Whispers rushed past Rose, running to the army of the Baron, and engaging them in a productive battle that saw to

He needed a drink. He rummaged through the alcohol cabinet before deciding on a bottle of dry whisky. He poured himself a glass before standing by the window. He could hear his breathing in the silence. What had just happened? His mind raced with suspicions of a larger sabotage plot. This was not ordinary and there were a lot of people at play; Dominic, Sienna, Alex, perhaps even more people working against him. He needed to find Cassie. He needed to make this right. The apartment felt painfully empty.