Novels by Manuel Sterling

The morning of the gala dawned gray and cold, with heavy clouds threatening rain. Zen stood at his bedroom window watching the sky, thinking about how fitting it was that the weather matched the mood. Today was the day everything either came together or fell apart. His phone had been buzzing since six AM with messages from various members of his team. Keisha confirming final details. Sinclair reviewing security protocols. Catherine sending encrypted updates about her tactical team's positioning. At eight AM, there was a knock on his bedroom door. "Come in." Felicia entered, looking exhausted. She was wearing jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Nothing like the polished heiress persona she usually presented to the world. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "Kept thinking about everything that could go wrong tonight." "Everything can always go wrong. That's why we plan for contingencies." "Do you have a contingency for what happens if they just sh

"I don't know the specific details. Evelyn didn't share them with me, and I was smart enough not to ask too many questions. But whatever it was, it scared her badly enough to order an immediate hit on a relatively harmless businessman who'd never hurt anyone in his entire life."Marcus leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow. "And you're saying Evelyn knows what that thread is?""Evelyn IS that thread. Or part of it, anyway. The Rossi family sits at the intersection of multiple criminal networks. They launder money for drug cartels through their real estate holdings and construction companies. They facilitate human trafficking through their shipping and logistics operations. They buy political protection through their charitable foundations and campaign contributions. They're the hub that connects everything else."Zen looked out the cruiser window at his damaged mansion, thinking about Tom's careful handwriting in those hidden letters, about Felicia's stolen files, abou

The police finished their investigation at dawn. Six professional assassins, all unconscious, all with non-fatal but precisely administered injuries. Marcus Chen in handcuffs, sitting in the back of a police cruiser. And Zen, giving his statement for the third time to increasingly skeptical detectives."Let me make sure I understand this correctly," Detective Morrison said, flipping through her notes. "Six armed intruders plus their employer broke into your home with intent to kill you. And you, alone, subdued all seven of them without sustaining any significant injuries yourself.""That's correct," Zen replied calmly."And you did this using hand-to-hand combat techniques learned during your time in the military.""Yes.""Which branch of the military?""That information is classified."Detective Morrison exchanged a look with her partner, Detective Williams. He was older, more experienced, and looked like he'd seen enough in his career to know when someone was only telling half the t

The mansion went completely dark as Zen activated the blackout protocol. Emergency lighting shut down, security cameras switched to infrared mode, and the building became a labyrinth of shadows and silence.Six professional killers moved through the grounds like ghosts, their thermal goggles cutting through the darkness. They'd done this before. Wealthy targets, high-security homes, quick in-and-out jobs that looked like random break-ins.But they'd never hunted the Monarch of Death in his own territory.Zen watched them from the second floor, his night vision giving him perfect clarity while they stumbled through unfamiliar terrain. The team leader was directing the others with hand signals. Two to the front entrance, two to the back, one to the service entrance.And one hanging back near the garden gate.Marcus Chen.So the bastard had come personally. Good. That would make things simpler.The first pair reached the front door and began working on the electronic locks. High-end equi

Marcus paced his penthouse office like a caged animal, phone pressed to his ear as he barked orders to his security chief."I don't care what it costs. I want Tom Diel eliminated tonight. Before tomorrow's gala.""Sir, with respect, this isn't some street corner dealer. This is one of the city's most prominent businessmen. If something happens to him—""If something doesn't happen to him, we're all going to prison!" Marcus slammed his fist on his desk, sending papers flying. "He knows everything. The shipping schedules, the client lists, the money trails. Everything.""How do you know he knows?""Because Evelyn Rossi called me an hour ago in a panic. Her daughter confronted Diel this morning, and he basically admitted he's been investigating our operations."Marcus walked to his floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the harbor where his legitimate shipping business operated alongside his very illegitimate human cargo business."Sir, maybe we should consider other options. Relocate

The next morning, Zen was in his office at Mega reviewing security arrangements for the gala when his assistant buzzed in."Mr. Diel, your ex-wife is here to see you. She says it's urgent."Zen looked up from his papers. Malia showing up unannounced was never a good sign, especially not three days before he was planning to destroy her mother."Send her in."Malia walked into his office like she owned the place, wearing a designer suit that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary. But there was something different about her demeanor – less confident, more desperate."Hello, Tom.""Malia. To what do I owe the pleasure?"She sat down without being invited, crossing her legs and fixing him with a stare he remembered from their marriage. The look she used when she was trying to figure out if he was lying to her."We need to talk.""About what?""About your sudden transformation into a billionaire tech mogul. About your new girlfriend. About the questions you've been asking aro

"Every word it spoke with my mouth. Every time it hurt you. Every bone it broke in this body—I FELT IT ALL. And I couldn't stop it. Couldn't even blink my own eyes." His voice cracked. "I watched it try to kill you through my own hands. Do you understand what that does to a person?"Miko's throat tightened. "I—""Everything the possession said about the gods? It wasn't lying. It was worse than lying—it was the truth." His father's voice grew bitter. Angry. "The gods broke hell's door during some ancient war I still don't fully understand. Not a crack. They SHATTERED it. And when they realized what they'd done, they panicked like children who broke their parents' favorite vase."He looked at the collapsed mountain. "So they created the Abyss. Not a solution. A BANDAID. A prison to throw the demons in and forget about.""They slaughtered every demon. Methodically. Thousands of them. And all that death energy? It didn't just disappear. It BIRTHED something new. The Enas. The entities. Th

The possessed body came at Miko with everything.No defense. No preservation. Just pure offense. The corruption flooded through his father's body without restraint. Muscles tearing from the strain. Bones cracking under the pressure. The body breaking down in real time.But it was faster now. Stronger. Deadlier.Miko barely blocked the first hit. The impact shattered his forearm. He stumbled back. The mole still clutched in his broken hand. Pulsing. Writhing.The thing didn't stop. Came again. Fist like a hammer. Miko dodged. The blow cratered the ground where he'd stood."Destroy it!" His father's voice. Barely audible. Fighting through the possession. "Miko... destroy... the anchor..."The possessed body's hand shot out. Grabbed for the mole. Trying to take it back. Trying to reattach it.Miko twisted away. Used his body as shield. Kept the mole protected.But he couldn't fight and hold it at the same time. Couldn't attack while protecting his father's only chance at freedom.The thi

Miko was losing.Every hit he landed meant nothing. Every strike the thing countered broke something inside him. Ribs. Bones. Spirit.The ash around him was fading. Running out. He'd pushed too hard. Burned through the power too fast.The thing wearing his father's face grabbed him by the throat. Lifted him off the ground. Squeezed.But as Miko's vision started to blur, he saw something.His father's hand. The one choking him. It was shaking. Not from effort. From strain. The fingers trembled even as they crushed his windpipe.And the skin. It was wrong. Cracked. Like old leather stretched too thin. Black veins visible beneath the surface. Spreading. Growing.Miko's eyes tracked up the arm. More cracks. More black veins. The corruption wasn't just controlling his father's body.It was destroying it."You see it now, don't you?" The multi-layered voice had an edge to it. Stress. "This vessel. It's failing. Worn out from years of service. But it has just enough left. Enough to end you.

The twilight zone fell silent.Larok stood alone in the clearing. The giant axe in his hand caught what little light existed. Made it darker somehow. Like the metal drank illumination instead of reflecting it.The Trinide spread out. Flanking positions. The woman in front. The two males on either side. A formation they'd used for centuries. Against heroes. Against warriors. Against everyone who'd ever challenged them.None of those challengers had survived."Last chance, old man," the woman said. Her voice had lost its mocking edge. Replaced with something harder. More careful. "Walk away. Let us have the boy. You can live.""No," Larok said simply. "I can't.""Then you die.""We'll see."They moved.All three at once. Coordinated. Practiced. Perfect synchronization born from fighting together for longer than most civilizations had existed.The woman went high. Hands elongating into curved blades. Aiming for Larok's throat.The first male went low. His fingers sharpening into spikes.

Miko woke to the sound of his team fighting. Not winning. Just fighting. Desperately. Trying everything to break the hand around his throat. Garcia's blade hit again. And again. Each strike precise. Perfect technique. Useless. Blaze's spear thrust for joints. For vulnerable points that should exist. Found nothing. Liam was using wind to try to pry the fingers loose. The air howled. The fingers didn't budge. Akiya's fire washed over the arm. Temperature hot enough to melt steel. The skin didn't even redden. Anna was crying. Pouring healing magic into Miko. Trying to keep him alive while being strangled. It was working. Barely. Just enough to keep him conscious. The thing wearing his father smiled at their efforts. "Impressive. Your determination. Your loyalty. Your teamwork." The multi-layered voice was almost gentle. "It won't matter. But impressive nonetheless." "Let him go!" Garcia screamed. She was hitting the arm with her sword's pommel now. Her blade had notched from repe

The walls were carved with symbols that hurt to read. The ceiling was lost in darkness. And in the center— A pillar. Not stone. Not metal. Something between. Pulsing with that same wrong-blue light. And chained to it was a man. Miko's father. He looked the same. Older maybe. Thinner. But the same face Miko remembered. The same features. The same— No. Not the same. Something was wrong. The way he hung there. Lifeless. Like a puppet with cut strings. "Dad," Miko breathed. He ran forward. Didn't think. Just moved. He reached the pillar. Reached for his father. Tried to pull him away from the chains. His father's eyes snapped open. Black. Completely black. Like the Trinide. And his hand shot out. Grabbed Miko's throat. Squeezed. Miko couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. His father's grip was like iron. Impossibly strong. The man's mouth opened. When he spoke, the voice was his father's. But wrong. Layered. Like multiple voices speaking at once. "Welcome, my son," the thing wear