Here’s a tiny little bit of Smyle I had fun writing. There’s some strong language ahead, so if that’s not your thing, look elsewhere. Enjoy!
“The man can see ghosts.”
That stopped Rhys. “What?”
“It’s not a new phenomenon. We’ve seen it culturally referenced-”
Rhys waved that away. “He can really see them?”
“Apparently so, yes.”
“And? Can they do anything? Like the stories?”
“I don’t know,” Smyle admitted. “That’s why I’m stacking the deck. That, and he has interesting friends. A new government organization created to hunt people like us down. Another catalyst.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Rhys murmured.
“I figured you’d appreciate that.”
Smyle nodded. “I might have that handled. You’re not the only person I’m going to be visiting before we get things moving. If you are coming.”
Rhys pretended to think it over. “You kill me when this is done. That’s my payment. If you don’t, and you know anything about me, you know what kind of wrath I’m capable of.”
“The Butcher of Barbour,” Smyle said. “Merlin.”
That one took Rhys by surprise. “I didn’t know anyone living knew about that.”
“You kill a man as powerful as him by ripping his lungs right out of his chest in the middle of a pig-shit laden farm, it’s the sort of thing I’m going to find out.”