Cover Art and Teaser
Let's Do the Time-warp Again...
Wow. What was into him
Wait. Larry Blaisdell stepped past another jock, ducking his head out of the way as the basketball player shouted and took a swing at him, and retaliated with a headbutt that put the other boy down like a sack of bricks. Since when was Larry almost as tall as Jordan Marshall? Larry was tall
, yeah, but like six two. Not even close
to Marshall's nearly six foot eight. And, wait... Larry was built like a line backer, huge for a quarterback, but wow. Had he put on an extra eighty or so pounds of bulk since school this afternoon? What, super magic steroids or something?
Cordelia froze. She shouldn't even think that as a joke.
? It might be.
Another disturbance caught her attention and she looked over to the other side of the dance floor to see Xander shoving his way through people in this general direction. He was holding his big prop shotgun up in one hand, like that
was going to do anything. And like he
was going to do something... even with a bit more muscle than she'd thought he had, Larry had like
, seven or eight inches and almost a hundred pounds
on Xander now, from the looks of it.
Ok, so why was there a red dot on the front of her catsuit? Oh, gods, did she spill something on her outfit? Jeeze. She brushed at it irritably. Several times, as a matter of fact, before she realized that it wasn't going away, it was moving around, and it was appearing on her hand
as she brushed through
"Holy fuck!" Owen yelled, and there was a sudden hard shove to her shoulder, and then Cordelia was on the floor between her chair and the table next over with, like, zero
idea how she'd gotten there. She looked up at Owen in surprise and irritation and –
– And there was a sudden, huge, flat clap of noise, and another, and Owen's head was just, like, gone
. Nothing but a huge splash of red and white like when her Daddy had shot a watermelon with a .270 hollow point to show why you didn't play with guns, and...
Oh, shit. Owen was shot! And falling, crumpling off his feet almost in slow motion.
Aphrodesia stood in front of where Cordelia was now sprawled, horrified, and she was screaming. There was another loud, flat clap of noise, and another, and then she was falling back onto the table all loose and limp like a rag doll. Cordelia screamed and started to scramble back on her heels and elbows as fast as she could.
Another flat clap of sound came, and then a bigger, louder, double flat clap, and people were suddenly screaming on the dance floor nearby. A shotgun
, Cordelia's mind supplied, almost absently. She'd shot enough skeet and trap to recognize the sound of a twelve gauge shotgun anywhere.
All of the other Cordettes were out of their chairs and either hitting the ground, or running and scrambling away, all of them screaming. Most were tripping, those high heeled boots weren't made for abrupt running starts on slick floors... And then Larry was standing over the edge of the table, holding the most enormous handgun Cordelia had ever seen in real life. One with some sort of thing that was putting out a red beam... and another, only slightly smaller one also with a red beam, and a scope, in his other hand. She screamed again, and scrambled back even faster.
Larry just kicked the table and it went flying off to the side, toward the left end of the room where the pool tables were. As in, completely off the ground and through the air over other tables and people
flying. He lowered the one, huge pistol until it was aimed at her, the red dot crawling onto her chest. Cordelia sucked in a breath, and closed her eyes as she continued to try to crawl away on her back –
The shot never came.
There was no hard impact on her chest, no pain, no sudden coldness like she'd read about. There was just...
Just a sudden loud, flat, clap clap clap clap of noise like someone unloading a twelve gauge in a hurry, the hard way. Which was just what it was
, she realized, almost numbly. The sound was joined after a few claps by a deep, rapid, staccato thrumming sound, like someone setting off M-80's in a string all at once.
Cordelia's head hit something behind her, and she realized it was the leg of a table and oh, god, she couldn't get away and she was going to die
– A strong hand grabbed her around the upper left arm as the staccato noise kept going on and on, and yanked her up onto her knees, and a rough, harsh – and very familiar – voice said, "Come with me if you want to live."