Fortunately, there was little chance that Dimitris or his guest would be crying today. He spotted her immediately after the CO let him through the gate: tight white tee, copious red curls tied up into a messy ponytail, red painted fingernails resting against a white cheek. A surge of bewildering emotion blasted through him. First, panic. She was the one, she had been there, she had done something to him and his family. He remembered blood and screaming. Terror immobilized him; his palms sweating, heart rattling against his ribs, his toes curling involuntarily in disgust and horror. But he had to go forward. Transmute the terror into fury, rage, and violence. Other notes clashed with the base tones in his head. Raw attraction to the breasts poised to burst her shirt, her legs tucked casually one over the other, battling against revulsion and disgust. And there was something wrong about her, a stench of infection and putrescence. How had he not noticed it before? She was a walking corpse, her only talent tinny sexual potency, false and bright as neon.
He had stopped a few paces from the entrance. “Table sixteen, Spiro,” the CO behind him said. “What are you waiting for?”
“Sorry,” Dimitris croaked. He swallowed and went to the seat across from Molly.
She smiled at him, showing her false white teeth. A simple, devastating move. He barely refrained from screaming, from getting up and throwing the table at her and running away. His hands shook visibly.
“You look nervous,” she said.
“Ah,” was all Dimitris could manage. His face felt hot--he needed to get control, now, or else the whole meeting would be wasted.
She flicked a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, and he spotted the tiny tremor of her fingers. So she was afraid, too. That was all he needed. He had already given up a major advantage by betraying his nervousness so obviously, but he had done negotiations under more hostile conditions than this. Her fear, however slight, was the only leverage he required. He steadied his nerves and began to play.
© J.S. Bangs
Author J.S. Bangs
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Bad blood runs out.
St. Anne's State Penitentiary is home to of all manner of monsters: drug pushers, rapists, pedophiles---and Dimitris Spiridakis, convicted of slaughtering his wife and children. He knows he didn't do it, but with no memory of the event and a plethora of evidence against him, he has no hope of freedom.
That is, until he meets someone more dangerous than any monster.
The Wizard, a voodoo-practicing inmate who runs the prison from within has been carring on a feud with an immortal killer who's lurked in the prison since the Civil War. Dimitris seizes his opportunity and plays Edwin and the Wizard against each other to discover the truth about what happened to his family. But what he doesn't realize is the chaos his actions will unleash.