The Elitist Supremacy

The Elitist is now available in both e-book and paperback.

elitist-supremacy

Here’s a sneak peek:

“Mr. Selwood!” The urgency of Quinn’s voice warned him as he flung himself on the nearest person who was Dylan, shouting, “Get down!”

The window glass exploded, raining down shards on them.

“Quinn!” he hissed. “Initiate emergency lockdown!”

This was why he had chosen this house for John when he had told Alexander he was coming back to Prith. Not all houses on Prith had the feature, but every single one that he owned did. When John had bought the house from him, Alexander had ensured that he wouldn’t remove the feature.

Heavy metallic shutters appeared over the doors and windows, and Alexander straightened. John and Aria lay where they fell, spikes buried in their backs, John lying half on top of his wife where he had hurled himself to protect her. Nolan and Dylan were pushing themselves to shaky feet and a girl whom he assumed must be Ashley stood a few feet away, a frozen expression of horror on her face, as she stared at her parents.

“Mom! Dad!” Dylan was on the floor, kneeling next to their parents. Nolan had gone to his sister, putting his arm around her and blocking her view of their parents’ bodies.

“Quinn, how long will it hold?” Alexander asked, his voice shaking.

“Fifteen minutes at the most, Mr. Selwood.” Quinn replied. “But the walls will be down in eight.”

Alexander knelt down next to John who was already twitching, and shook him. “Get up, John. We’ve to leave now! We don’t have time!”

John pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and drew deep breaths. Alexander plucked out the spikes sticking out of his back, wishing he had some way of cushioning the shock that was to follow.

“Nasty things, those spikes,” John gasped as he looked up with a grimace, resignation on his face. His eyes fell on the horrified face of Dylan and he stilled. “Aria.” he said, his voice hoarse, before he started coughing and retching, bringing up blood.

“Dad!” Dylan was at his side, and Alexander rose, watching John hack up blood. John tried to straighten, but was clearly unable to. He looked at Alexander and said, his voice still hoarse. “Take them and leave!”

“No, Dad!” burst from two throats, Ashley still standing rigid and frozen in her brother’s arms.

John was overtaken by a fresh bout of coughing.

“Please, Alexander!” He begged, his eyes pleading. “You know it’s too late for me!”

Alexander knew, had known from the moment he’d seen those spikes stick out from John’s back, but he didn’t like it.

“Quinn,” Alexander said, his voice trembling, strange and husky, even to his ears. “Get Nolan, Dylan and Ashley out of here.”

Their shouted “No!” was cut off in the middle as they disappeared.

“You’ve to go too,” John coughed. Blood dribbled down his chin, staining his beard and moustache a deep red. “You have to get them to Ignis safely.”

Alexander nodded, as he placed a hand on John’s shoulder.

“Damn you, John!” he said.

“Leave, before they come!” John sat down, his hands cradling his wife’s head, and he drew deep heaving breaths before doubling up in a fresh bout of hacking coughs.

Alexander gave John’s shoulder a squeeze and straightened, releasing him.

“Quinn, get me home.”

The wall exploded in a shower of rubble just as Quinn teleported him away, and John threw himself onto his wife’s body, as if to protect her.

E-book is available here

Paperback is available here

For those in India, paperbacks can be purchased here and here


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