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The Killing Moon

by V. J. Chambers


Dana Gray swallowed hard and averted her eyes from the blood-streaked pool table. A man, or what was left of him, was lying on his stomach on the green felt, head turned to the side, eyes glassy and gaping. Four long red furrows streaked down his back, parting his flesh. His throat had been ripped out. He was nothing more than glistening red meat. Dana wasn’t looking anymore, but the image of the mauled man seemed engraved onto the back of her eyelids.

She felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder, and she turned to see the grinning face of her partner, Avery Brooks. “Can’t stand to look, Gray?” he teased. “I know it’s been six months, but you used to have the strongest stomach in the Sullivan Foundation.”

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