Vanishing Hitchhiker Novels & Stories

He straddled Savannah and raised the pen, looking crazed as he drove it toward her throat. "This is all your fault! You made me lose Violet and Sadler Group! You deserve to die! Go to hell!" The police officers soon snapped to their senses and burst through the door. Isaac pulled me into his arms and covered my eyes. "Don't look. It'll dirty your eyes." I nodded and quickened my pace. … That night, I got an update. Savannah died despite emergency treatment, and Jeremy was detained for homicide. And just like that, it was over.

‎He reached into a duffel bag and pulled out a phone. ‎Held it up. ‎Camera light blinded me. ‎“Smile, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re the bait.” ‎The flash went off. ‎Then the hood was yanked back over my head, tighter this time, and the world went black again. ‎But I could still hear. ‎The van sped through the city, tires humming over bridges and potholes. ‎And somewhere behind us, Mikhail was getting the call that would tear his world apart. ‎I didn’t know who these men were.

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one

An enormous man named Nate Bitters: rotund, flamboyant, versed in several world languages as head of the library’s Collections Department, and sole witness to the hit-and-run that took his wife’s life. Mr. Nate Bitters, an odd duck he was, or so they liked to whisper around town. Odder yet since his disappearance. One minute he’s giving a quick, jittery account of what he saw to the authorities, and the following day—abracadabra—he’s gone. Smoke in the wind. No messages, no traces, nothing. Gone, like an obese Harry Houdini. What in the hell?

“Shit” “Go, I will be fine” “I will bring your bag and bike back tonight” “Thank you” Jill tried to hide her sob, but I noticed. I also noticed the tears starting to form in her eyes and it broke my heart that I had to leave her here. I looked up and noticed Vivian coming out, she gave me a nod to let me know that she would look after her. I quickly ran over to the car and climbed into the back seat. As soon as I was in Chad started to drive, I noticed straight away that we were heading back in the direction of the rental. I put my head down so no one would notice as I mind-linked Brian ‘We failed, the witch got to Chad’

338 that had him sighted in perfectly. “He’s gone, ”the hefty red-haired bearded hunter said as he took his face away from his rifle scope and squinted his eyes to refocus before taking another look. “He just fucking disappeared into thin air.” The smiling human from town took his tooth pick out of his mouth then glanced back to his friend. None of the others had answered their radios and Mitchell knew they were probably already dead. He’d promised his friends the hunt of a lifetime and it turned out that they suddenly found themselves being the prey. “What do you mean he disappeared?”

He couldn't think of anything at all. He got up and walked over to the table for a glass of water. But when he picked up the flask, it was completely empty. A knot began to form between his brows. Whenever he used to reach for his cup, the water inside had always been at just the perfect temperature. Then it hit him—I wasn't there anymore. Just as he was about to call for Bill, Katrina's cries echoed from downstairs. Ethan quickly materialized in Katrina's room. Inside was a mess, while she lay limp on the floor, her body covered in red rashes.

As they quickly fled the scene, a geezer flew over rapidly after, glowering as he saw no corpses but clearly smelled the scent of blood in the air. Whoosh! More figures closed in rapidly and bowed at the geezer when they arrived. "Chief Chivas!" After all, he was none other than Chivas Gosling, chief of the Sanctuary's Gosling clan! "Search thoroughly!" Chivas growled darkly. "The soul plate of Hitch and a dozen sentinels have cracked, and there were no remains to be seen. Such savagery!" The elders all nodded, and one of them said, "Yes, sir! Right away, sir!"

A large truck next to it narrowly passed the van. The car immediately behind slammed on the brakes, or else they would have crashed into it. When the big truck drove past, the van was no longer there. Ivan hurriedly drove after it, looking for the van. From above was the sound of a helicopter circling the sky like a falcon, looking for the target. Anthony's Rolls Loyce galloped like a cheetah on the road so fast that even phantoms appeared. "Mr. Marwood, the van is nowhere to be seen for now," Ivan answered Anthony's call with a tense expression on his face.

He tried to trace the IP; the Ghost bounced the signal off a satellite in Antarctica, a toaster in Tokyo, and a library in Brazil. But Altair was Vespera Thorne’s son. He didn't just know code; he knew architecture. He realized the Ghost wasn't trying to steal the money. The Ghost was leaving a tag. Altair stopped fighting. He watched the Ghost reach the center of the vault. It didn't take the billions. It simply planted a flag—a small, ASCII art skull—and vanished. CONNECTION TERMINATED. The room went silent. The red lights faded back to blue. "Damage report," Altair asked.