Dead of Veridon
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A thrilling hard boiled adventure set in a steam-punk world. Jacob Burn, outcast scion of a noble family turned petty criminal - and recently his ungrateful city's savior - is hurled into a maeltstrom of conflicting loyalties and deadly alliances as the dead of Veridon begin to rise again.
Trouble finds Jacob Burn. Kicked out of his house, out of his comfortable life, out of everything that is familiar, even turned away from his circle of criminal friends and interesting enemies. Two years after he saved an ungrateful city from a mad angel, thwarting the plans of every powerful faction in Veridon, Jacob is still trying to pull his life together. And still trouble finds him.
A bad job goes worse, and soon old enemies present themselves as allies, and former friends set themselves against Jacob as he tries to put the dead to rest and the living to justice. Everything gets more difficult when he’s appointed by the Council to investigate the rise of the cog-dead, while some hold him personally accountable, and others in the city work to use the chaos to their advantage.
stairs. I followed. Billy stayed at the bar, talking to us as we left, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Chapter Nine The Two Voices LIKE MOST HOMES of a certain age, the Manor Burn had more rooms than the family had ever used. The ambitions of the architect outstretched the progeny of the elder Burns, and whole wings had alternately been shuttered and rehabilitated in the generations my family had been living here. As a child I used to make a game of the empty chambers, searching for
Veridon's top criminal and ended our complicated friendship, things had been bad for me. My contacts stopped talking to me. My regular clients stopped calling by my office. I was reduced to taking jobs from people I didn't trust, jobs I didn't want to do, working with people like Gray, getting myself into situations I wasn't sure I could get out of. Jobs like this one. Situations like this one. A dead face bumped against the glass, his skin saggy and white, his eyes smooth pale marbles. I
She called back to me as she left. "Perhaps, Jacob, you're just not the kind of man I find very frightening. Wait here, will you?" She left, and her mother with her. The door closed with a click. The door handles were slick with that blood, like paint smeared across brass. I sat by the window, making myself drink after drink, and seriously thinking about taking a header through the window. Crashing through and running out the garden. Maybe even going home. Maybe going to Angela. Just getting
shoulder, and gave Wilson a look. He swallowed nervously and sheathed his knives. "We're just here to, uh. To talk to the Council. We're friends." They weren't buying it, and the crows behind us were crowding our heels. I started walking faster. That didn't seem to make the guards feel any better. "You're sure we can't run?" Wilson hissed. "Positive," I whispered out of the corner of my mouth, then addressed the guards. "Look, I'm Jacob Burn. My father is..." Dead, I thought. Lying face down
games. I'm here because everything is falling apart, and unless you act immediately to put it back together, you will not recover your city." I stopped in the center of the room and turned slowly in place. "Veridon will be lost to you." "Listen," Plumer said. He had crawled back into his seat, and seemed to take comfort in being able to look down at me. His voice still quavered when I looked at him. "Listen, I know things are dire. We are here in emergency session, after all. Many of us left our