Kandy Fangs
()
About this ebook
Life is a memory, and amnesiac Steve Reynolds starts his life in the middle of a political issue involving a rare venom used as a drug. Kandy, a professional killer, helps him find his way through the time-shifting shadows of his life and into hers. Haunted by wraiths from his past, Steve puts his past together discovering not all of his memories belong to him.
David G Shrock
David G Shrock lives in the Pacific Northwest where he works as a software developer and writes science-fantasy stories. Growing up, he bugged his parents with questions. They gave him a library card. He has been reading about the universe ever since, and asking questions.
Read more from David G Shrock
Shadow Memories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRaven Memory Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to Kandy Fangs
Related ebooks
Dream Merchant: Jackson Stone, P.I., #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsConstruct Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Angels Wept Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Underside of Leaves Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFractured Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Theory (Breaking Chains Series, Book #1) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNightmare Tales Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsFighting Demons: A New Orleans Mystery Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Lightning Seed Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Followers Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Speed of Honey Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMonstrous: Book Three: Monstrous, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsI Won't Believe in Love Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Courage to Kill Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Trans Liberty Riot Brigade Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAngels of Retribution Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAs You Wish Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHart the Regulator 3: Tago Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Painter Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Club Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsEverything in Its Right Place Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsVengeance for My Valentine: Five Seasons of Night, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Dead Sit Round in a Ring Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Yield Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Blood Princess: Episode One: The Blood Rite Saga: Season One, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCemeteries of the Heart and Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Not Like Yesterday (An Ilse Beck FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 3) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTits & Tats and other stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSinister Spells Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Spirit Within Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Fantasy For You
Fairy Tale Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Tress of the Emerald Sea: Secret Projects, #1 Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Nettle & Bone Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This Is How You Lose the Time War Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Fellowship Of The Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Lord Of The Rings: One Volume Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Priory of the Orange Tree Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Silmarillion Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Warrior of the Light: A Manual Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Sarah J. Maas: Series Reading Order - with Summaries & Checklist Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Slewfoot: A Tale of Bewitchery Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Phantom Tollbooth Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Picture of Dorian Gray (The Original 1890 Uncensored Edition + The Expanded and Revised 1891 Edition) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Smoke and Mirrors: Short Fictions and Illusions Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5An Unkindness of Magicians Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Black Sun Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Piranesi Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Eyes of the Dragon Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The City of Dreaming Books Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Mistborn: Secret History Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Lathe Of Heaven Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Wizard's First Rule Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Immortal Longings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Book of Magic: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Reviews for Kandy Fangs
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
Kandy Fangs - David G Shrock
Kandy Fangs
David G Shrock
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 David G Shrock
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Thanks to Carrie and Jason.
Contents
Chapter 1: Shadows
Chapter 2: Silver
Chapter 3: Sanctuaries
Chapter 4: Crime Scene
Chapter 5: Bleed For Me
Chapter 6: Payment
Chapter 7: Sin
Chapter 8: Lost In A Memory
Chapter 9: Vampire Ice
Chapter 10: Memory Thief
Chapter 11: Confession
Chapter 12: Executions
Chapter 13: My Fangs
Chapter 14: Final Dance
Chapter 1: Shadows
"Life is a memory, a blood-spattered stain on the cosmos where ghosts relive every moment."—Steve Reynolds
It looks like the aftermath of a gang fight between bottles, the victim smashed to death. Shards of clear glass litter the center of the table. Empty beer bottles, fifteen of them including the bottle on its side, surround the victim. Probably some national light beer trying to dance with the tough local microbrews. Roseland is home to some of the toughest ale in the country.
On a sofa, a clothing pile shifts. A sweatshirt covers the lamp shading the room except for the far corner where cobwebs darken the wall. More clothes form a pile between the lamp and sofa. A trail of clothing—enough for three people—leads from the sofa across the carpet onto the tile of the kitchen area. A lacy black bra hangs from the handle of the refrigerator. Back against the stove, a woman wearing only black bottoms rests in a fetal position, arm over knees and face pressed into a puddle of vomit.
The apartment unit smells like alcohol, sex, and an overused toilet after weeks of neglect.
Hey, man.
Clothing flops off the sofa, and a shirtless young man sits up. His blond hair stands up, spikes pointed in every direction. He glances around, his pupils growing large and shrinking again. He grimaces at the shaded lamp. Some party, eh?
This is the aftermath of a brutal orgy of overindulgence.
What's your name?
The shirtless man holds his hand up. No, don't tell me. I've got it.
He snaps his finger. Roger. No wait. Steve.
Steve sounds right. A hand on the table edge, he shifts around looking the kitchen over. Pizza boxes cover the stove. He looks down at the woman on the floor growing concerned about her health.
Okay,
he says, I'm Steve. Who the hell are you?
The shirtless man makes a popping noise that sounds almost like a laugh. Flopping back, he lays on the sofa and rubs his face. Torx.
Standing, Steve pushes the chair under the table. Looking down, he finds black slacks and a white buttoned shirt. His clothes are spotless and free of wrinkles. Even the creases in his slacks appear sharp. His shiny leather shoe steps on a sliver of pizza crust.
Torx releases more popping sounds. You know it was a great party when most of it is a haze.
Steve glances over at the woman on the floor. She appears no older than nineteen. Her shifting body tells him she is alive. I don't remember anything.
Good stuff, eh?
Torx sits up and shakes his head. He laughs, popping like firecrackers.
I feel fine.
No headache. No grogginess. He feels like a bear after a winter nap, or a newborn baby with enough energy to cry for days. I just don't remember anything at all.
Torx bats a hand at the air.
Steve looks at the beer bottle gang fight on the table. He scans the kitchen, the floor finding more beer bottles, and the coffee table covered with more pizza boxes. No drug paraphernalia. No needles, no bongs, not even a cigarette occupies the flat. Kneeling, he lifts the young woman up into a seated position.
Dark mascara drains from her closed eyes. She groans and waves her hands at the air. Her breath smells like beer and vomit. Dried pizza sauce speckles her breasts. Steve turns her arms around searching for needle marks. Patches of freckles on her upper arms disturb the serenity of her pale flesh. Her nose appears clean.
Spotting a red dot on her neck, he pulls her hair aside and turns her head the other way. The puncture wound is under her chin in the soft place beside her throat. The wound appears too large for a needle. On her wrist he finds pink scars, two curved rows of slender gashes appearing like a bite mark.
No drugs here.
Come on,
says Torx. He slaps his arm. I've got a big fresh mark on my arm. Julio delivered.
Where's the needle?
Steve looks around finding the room darkening. The rumbling fridge falls silent. Toilet smells fade. It is as if his nose stopped working along with his ears.
Ghostly forms appear, people moving about the apartment. Holding a beer bottle, the young topless woman dances in the kitchen. The apparition moves her hips in circles. The ghost takes a gulp from the bottle. Two other ghosts—men—sit at the table. One watches the young woman, nodding his head and grinning in the lustful way young men do. The other ghost opens a beer bottle, the pale cap bouncing silently onto the floor. A pair of ghosts occupy the living area. A female dances on the coffee table, lifting her shirt up, exposing her breasts. She throws her shirt down, and the other ghost, Torx, laughs silently.
An apparition leans against the door. He watches the others, head rolling against the door as his gaze moves from one ghost to another. He appears like a leather-clad rockstar with long dark hair and pale skin. His gaze pauses on Steve, makes eye contact, and drops to the table. Between two brown beer bottles, six capped vials stand within a wire tray. A white cloud floats in clear liquid.
Sounds come crashing back, and a wave of pungent odors attacks.
The ghosts are gone leaving Steve holding the young woman in his arms.
A voice booms within the apartment. What are you? A cop?
Lifting the young woman, Steve climbs to his feet. His gaze sweeps the table. There appears to be too much broken glass for six vials.
Look at you with your spiffy clothes,
says Torx, rising from the pile of clothes standing naked. And your buzzed cop hair. Who the hell let your old ass in here anyway?
He swipes at the air. Was it Sabrina? Get out of here and take that slut with you!
Hand around Sabrina's waist, Steve holds her limp body against him. Her feet slip and stumble around the table. Torx shouts terrible words as he marches around the other side of the table. Shoving the chair aside, Steve pulls Sabrina towards the exit.
Opening the door reveals a dim hall lit by a buzzing light, the blinking sends their shadows jumping across the worn carpet and onto the wall. Steve supports the young woman as she stumbles down the hall passing closed doors marked by brass numbers. The naked man shouts from the doorway. Finding stairs at the end of the hall, Steve heads down the creaking steps.
Folding her arms over breasts, Sabrina shivers.
Nothing is familiar. The acrid odor, the peeling paint, the blinking lights tug at his senses. How about,
he says, trying to find the right words. How about we find somewhere warm and safe?
At the landing, he grabs the banister and swings Sabrina around the corner. Within his grasp, he feels the banister give, wood splinters, and the handrail breaks free. He falls, darkness swallowing him.
Instead of tumbling down stairs, he feels as if he plummets, his gut rising into his throat. Finding his arms empty, he reaches out. Sabrina is gone. From the darkness below, churning purple and black clouds curl around him. Gut lurches, feet touch down, and silent steps carry him through the rising violet fog.
Dark shapes appear within the haze. Swooning and swaying, the shapes surround him. They appear like smoke, their motions leaving wispy trails, and he realizes they dance in slow motion. He finds more of them, a mass of smoky forms in every direction. They dance, waving arms building smoky clouds above their heads.
Purple haze lifting, dancers increasing in speed, the smoke trails fade leaving solid forms. Clothing ripples out of the blackness. The ghosts dance, their pale forms turning and moving on a wood floor. Dark columns holding purple rods rise up into a white fog where lights spin splashing red like blood dripping from the mist.
Thunder erupts pounding into the floor. Another dull boom, and another, the increasing beat becoming alive, sharpening. The dancers stomp to the beat, their movements increasing in speed. A chorus of guitars join in, and music explodes.
Standing at the center of the dance floor, Steve glances around at the crowd. White shirts and waving colored bracelets glow in the black light. Some of the eyes glow as well like phosphorous discs floating on white orbs. The discs bounce and weave. The floor shakes to the beat of the drums and dancing feet.
Standing on a stage, a woman with deep crimson hair screams into a microphone. Her voice, harsh and demonic, shouts about blood and death. Behind her, the musicians shake their heads and stomp. A bald man pounds drums splashing sweat glistening into the spotlight flooding his bare chest decorated with a dark dragon.
Feeling a gaze piercing into him, Steve turns around finding a woman staring at him. Her hips throw her black dress swaying and shifting about her leather boots tapping the floor in time with the beat. Her body flows, twisting and swaying, her arms climbing up over her head like snakes swooning about each other. Her dark hair bounces on her shoulders. He recognizes her pale face, her cute dimples, her slender nose. Her strong gaze pulls him in.
She smiles, her glossy red lips curl deepening her dimples. Nice to meet you, Steve Reynolds.
A wave of nausea rushes over, and he concentrates on the woman before him, focusing on her glistening lips. He watches her tongue slide sideways licking her upper lip. Smile growing, her mouth opens wider exposing glistening teeth. A red spotlight flashes over her face. Staring at her open mouth, he notices her canines are slender and long.
I'm sweet like candy,
she says. Spinning around, she gazes over her shoulder. Her thin eyebrows bounce. With a K.
Watching her smile, her pointed teeth, he realizes her name. Kandy.
Led by the hand, he follows her off the dance floor. Climbing a staircase, she says something about having what he's looking for. He doesn't recall asking for anything, and he feels doubtful she can help him find Sabrina or the apartment building. However, her kind smile tells him she may have something. He tries placing her face, but nothing sticks. Even her cinnamon scent is familiar. Somehow he knows her hair always smells like cinnamon.
Candles barely illuminate the leather sofas lining the dark walls of the lounge. Music drones in the floor, and Kandy bounces to the beat. Passing a bar on the right, the bartender dressed in puffy sleeves and a bow tie frowns. Hand pulling him the other way, he slips off the red carpet and onto the smooth tile of a room, music growing louder.
Kandy slams the door closed. One foot in front of the other, hips rocking, she struts over to a leather sofa sitting against a wall of glass. With the red lights spinning through fog beyond the window, Kandy is a dark silhouette. One hand on her waist, she stands there waiting, tapping her toe to the beat.
Raising his hand, Steve finds dollar bills in his grasp. His feet shuffle taking slow steps.
Lashing out, Kandy grasps his shoulder jerking him onto his toes. His elbow cracks, and her jaw crushes his wrist. Pain shoots up his arm into his head cracking into silence, a scream fading into the background.
Chapter 2: Silver
Like I told you.
Leaning back in the chair, Steve Reynolds folds his arms. I don't remember.
Sitting behind the desk, the detective peers up from his notes. His bushy eyebrows scrunch down. He appears to fall into deep concentration, his head bouncing as if considering different options.
Growing tired