STORM BORN
Chapter One
I'd seen weirder things than a haunted shoe, but not
many.
The Nike Pegasus sat on the office's desk, inoffensive,
colored in shades of gray, white, and orange. Some of
the laces were loosened, and a bit of dirt clung around
the soles. It was the left shoe.
As for me, well ... underneath my knee-length coat,
I had a Glock .22 loaded with bullets carrying a higher-than-legal
steel content. A cartridge of silver ones rested
in the coat's pocket. Two athames lay sheathed on my
other hip, one silver-bladed and one iron. Stuck into my
belt near them was a wand, hand-carved oak and loaded
with enough charmed gems to probably blow up the
desk in the corner if I wanted to.
To say I felt overdressed was something of an understatement.
"So," I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible,
"what makes you think your shoe is ... uh, possessed?"
Brian Montgomery, late thirties with a receding hairline
in serious denial, eyed the shoe nervously and moistened
his lips. "It always trips me up when I'm out running. Every
time. And it's always moving around. I mean, I never actu ... read full excerpt from Storm Born ebook
