The Zargari lead tips his cap. Time. Caravan forms in shadow—horses shifting, Dom carts bleeding into market chaos. Flight in every gesture: a glance, a tap, the syntax of vanishing. Asdar’s hand finds my hip. Signal, not tenderness. My skin still sparks from the interrupted bath, slick and wanting. I shove it down—longing braided with…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 33
The streets are barely awake when we reach Nosrat Bath. A single attendant in a grey vest unlocks the carved wooden doors, glances at Asdar, and then disappears. Inside, the tiles breathe out a century of heat; steam curls from the marble floor vents, carrying damp stone and old cedar. I let my scarf slip….
The COMC Files Book VIII
Chaos MAGIC After Zerzura arriving Zurich – Christmas Eve (Book VIII shard) Snow makes a liar of this city. It softens the glass edges, dusts the tramlines, pretends that money, secrecy, and neatly laundered wars can be made pure under a thin white veil. Christmas lights drip from Bahnhofstrasse like carefully managed miracles; somewhere, a…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 32
The fire from the night before had collapsed into a ring of muted coals, their last warmth leaking into the cold ground. Mist clung to the low scrub, blurring the line between land and sky. Somewhere beyond the silence, a hawk sliced the air. They moved without wasted words. Bedrolls bound tight, tents dismantled and…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 31
Embers, Rumours, and Rescue Plans The fire pops, laughter fills the air, and Asdar leans in, finally ready to stitch together the threads — Romani hospitality, protection, their centuries-old role as keepers of stories and music, and the deal he cut to trade stigma for safe passage. For once, I’m content to listen — blond…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 30
“ENOUGH!”* My breath stops. That grunt—familiar. The blindfold is torn off in one motion. Light stabs my eyes. I blink, heart hammering, searching the crowd for the shape behind the voice. For a beat, no one moves—Romani faces flickering between suspicion and relief, Azerbaijani bystanders holding back. Somewhere in the tangle, I know the wolf…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 29
Time blurs in streaks of light and motion. I scratch out a few more lines in my notebook before the train shifts pitch, slowing under us. The announcement in curt Turkish says enough. Van. I lean into the glass, stomach tightening. The platform crawls with uniforms—dark jackets, rifles slung with easy authority, eyes scanning every…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 28
Crimson Traces The station air hums with departures. Brakes exhale, announcements crackle overhead, and somewhere behind me a child cries once before being shushed into silence. The high-speed train to Ankara waits with its nose angled east, silver and intent. Inside, the sound changes—padded by upholstery, softened by recycled warmth. Our bags thud into overhead…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 27
Inside, the hiss of brakes and the chime of departure boards blend into one constant undertone. The high‑speed train to Ankara waits, silver and intent, its nose angled toward the tracks stretching east. Tickets pass through the gate with soft clicks. We find our seats, stowing bags overhead. Outside, the last few passengers hurry along…
The COMC Files Book V chapter 26
Istanbul Dawn The city stirs, a thousand lives resuming. Cracked windows carry metal shutters clattering two streets over, bus brakes hissing, the simit-seller’s rising cry. Horns thick with impatience, heat building. The warehouse holds night’s breath. Mitra—cardigan-armour—coaxes the camping stove to a blue flame. Coffee bitters the cold air. She moves with dawn-departure muscle: crisp,…
The C.O.M.C. Files 