The End of Desire — M.R. Sellars

EVIL HAS A NAME, AND IT IS MIRANDA

Getting lost is easy when you chase shadows in the dark, but when you do it on your own, with no official sanction, and on unfamiliar ground, getting dead can be an even bigger worry.

Post-Katrina New Orleans is a far cry from Saint Louis where this all began, and chasing a twisted, Hoodoo-magic-practicing, female serial killer here, then playing hide-and-seek with her throughout this flood-ravaged city isn't something I'd normally consider doing... However, here I am, with no authority, no backup, and breaking all the rules--including my own. What can I say? We do what we must, and for me, this goes beyond a mere imperative.  The life and sanity of someone I hold dear hinges on it.

My name is Rowan Gant. I'm a Witch with an unfortunate curse--I can hear the voices of the dead. As you probably guessed by the fact that I call it a curse, I'm not overly fond of the affliction. It brings me nothing but grief, including a second career consulting for the police to help track down killers, mostly because the dead people who do the loudest talking are the victims of those very same killers.

But this time it's different. I'm off the books, and the cops aren't very happy about that. I'm also chasing someone who appears to have even more clout with the dead than I do, and that definitely doesn't bode well. However, she made a big mistake--she came after my wife. When she crossed that line, she started something I don't think she expected.

Now, I'm going to finish it, even if she kills me...