The Mortality Principle (Rogue Angel, Book 56)
Alex Archer, Steven Savile
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When legend becomes deadly reality…
In Prague researching the legend of the Golem, a fantastical "living" creature made of clay, archaeologist Annja Creed is faced with an even bigger mystery on her hands when someone begins murdering the homeless. And every day there's a fresh corpse.
As the suspicion that Golem is behind the deaths circulates quietly on the streets of the city, Annja cannot resist unraveling the thread that binds science to superstition. According to Czech history, these aren't new attacks. They're part of a greater pattern of murders that have gone unacknowledged over centuries. And now Annja is the next target. Unless she can find the real monster behind the myth…before it finds her.
time he had done that to her, and odds were it wouldn’t be the last. With half an hour to kill, she carried on scrolling through everything she could find about the recent spate of killings in the city while she watched the seconds crawl by. Once upon a time losing herself like Alice down the rabbit hole of the internet could have swallowed thirty minutes in the blink of an eye. All she had to do was follow a link, then another that branched off from the first toward something vaguely
“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it properly. I’m coming. Don’t go out after sunset. I’ll be there in a few hours.” “Roux?” Something really had him spooked. “You don’t have to.” “I do. Believe me. There are things about that city you don’t understand. Ancient forces. Evil. I am not leaving you alone there.” “Okay, Roux, now you’re scaring me.” “Good. It’s good to be scared.” “Should I warn Garin?” “He went there with his eyes open. He almost certainly knows what these murders
shoulder and picked up the gas can, setting off into the darkness before he turned on the flashlight. The beam speared ahead, lighting his way. The noise that filtered down from the street was soon lost in the echo of his own footsteps and the slosh of gasoline in the can as he moved deeper into the maze of tunnels. It was incredible to think this elaborate network of passages has survived centuries of neglect, but he didn’t recall them being this elaborate the first time he had been here. With
loneliness in his truth. She didn’t want to live in a world where the only two people like her were constantly at each other’s throats, trying to kill each other. Where did that leave her? Alone. She had no idea of how long her life would be, but she’d felt her body changing in so many subtle ways since that first time Saint Joan’s sword fused under her grasp, whole again. Hers wasn’t going to be a mortal span. It may not be as long as Roux’s, but her old age wasn’t going to be passed in a
trying to focus on the mass of bodies rushing towards her. Only one had a weapon that she could see, but the madness in the eyes of the horde was more than a match of any brain-hungry frenzy. With one hand she reached into the otherwhere, feeling the familiar grip of her sword begin to solidify in her hand as her fingers closed around it. She savored the adrenaline rush as her blood pumped hard through her veins. This was what she lived for. Not the show. The show was her identity out in the real