Excerpt Day: A Conspiracy of Ravens by William Maltese

[reviews_and_ramblings]

A Conspiracy of Ravens by William Maltese
Release Date: 06/2009
Publisher: MLR Press
ISBN# 978-1-60820-061-0 (ebook)
Publisher Link: http://www.mlrbooks.com/ShowBook.php?book=WMRAVENS

Amazon: A Conspiracy of Ravens: A One-hand Read

Blurb: Inside the grounds of the infamous Tower of London. Patrick whose Irish lover, Ian, was killed by an English homicidal butcher behind the wheel of a speeding car. Tad whose American parents have sent their erring son to live with Brit relatives, one of whom is a Tower yeoman. Six Tower Ravens, the subjects of legend that predicts-they gone, the British Empire soon to follow. A man and five Tower Ravens murdered. One man determined to see the sixth bird dead, no matter the consequences.

Excerpt:

London still had its days and nights of fog, although they were less filled with it than were the infamous pea-soup days and nights of Jack the Ripper. Brian walked through the mist. It was good being back in London. It would be good to see Tad again. He hoped Tad would be as glad to see him.

Brian was a little nervous as he skirted the complex of medieval battlements that made up the Tower of London complex. The massive structures looked somehow ominous as they loomed darkly out of the swirling mist. Brian couldn’t help recalling a thousand and one horror stories that had come complete with just such a setting. He shivered with recollections. He shivered with anxiety that Tad might not be as happy to see Brian as vice versa. Perhaps he was an ass for coming back. Possibly he had been just another trick as far as Tad was concerned.

He stopped, contemplating not proceeding to the wall house.

Tad’s uncle and aunt might be back from Salisbury. Although, according to Brian’s computations, they weren’t due for awhile yet. But, maybe he’d misunderstood. He might not be remembered even if Tad was there. That would be an acute bruise to Brian’s ego. Although Tad had every right to forget, go out and find sex. Brian certainly hadn’t wasted any time in jumping into bed with Paul. Poor fucking Paul who had looked downright downtrodden when Brian told him their attempt at reconciliation just wasn’t going to work, at least as far as Brian was concerned. Even if Paul had decided at the last minute to jettison his new job, which he hadn’t, Brian doubted the two would have been able to reclaim the one-time wonder of old times. Sometime, life just had to go on. Likely, Tad’s life had gone on as soon as Brian had left the Tower grounds to join Paul in Scotland.

Brian just wished he’d thought to get Tad’s phone number. He would have settled for the last name of Tad’s uncle, so he could have looked that up in some phone book. He would have preferred getting the go-ahead before making his sudden reappearance. He had never been the type just to drop in on old tricks. Passions cooled too damned quickly, and those who pledged undying love one moment, and begged for you to return for more fun and games, often forgot all about you the very moment you were out the door. Usually wishing to hell you’d never really get around to taking them up on their offer to come on back.

Brian maneuvered a roundabout way of small alleys and roadways that Tad had showed him. During the day, admission was charged to let the tourists through the main gate. Brian’s way more stealthily gave him entry around several outbuildings that faced the White Tower, Tad somewhere on the other side of the dominating structure. At least Brian hoped Tad was there.

Again, Brian contemplated fading into the city and spending the night in a hotel. He had come directly from the airport without bothering to go anywhere to shower and shave. Maybe he should come back during the day.

He didn’t want to wait, though. He wanted Tad as quickly as possible. Once returned to Tad’s tenderly enfolding arms, there would be a final certainty to the end of whatever once existed between Brian and Paul.

The fog swirled around his feet. The White Tower appeared and then disappeared to his right as he continued the pathway that skirted it. The Tower complex during the bright daylight was one thing, but during night it was something else again. Brian didn’t like the coldness in his bones. He didn’t like the way the hair stood up on the back of his neck. His usual self-confidence was waning.

He stopped, his ears straining for even the most muted sounds. He was like an animal on high alert. He listened, God only knew for what. Distant footsteps, dripping water, the hoot of an owl? Part of it, all of it, merely imagined? He tried to shake his growing dread. It was ridiculous to let his imagination get the best of him. He had to get a grip on himself; his disturbed state of mind left him unable to smile at the double-entendre of that.

He started walking again. His footsteps echoed on the flagstone. The fog parted for a second in the distance. Brian saw the section of fortress wall where Tad lived. It was dark.

He stumbled but regained his balance before falling. He’d tripped over something in the pathway, kicking it aside as he did so. He searched the grass for the obstacle. He got down on his knees, running his hands through the wet grass until he located whatever it was in the darkness. He pulled his hand back in a reflex action

After several seemingly very long seconds had passed, he tentatively reached for it again.

Dead bird eyes stared at Brian from a head that hung from a limp bird neck.