Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

cabinet. Satisfied, she sighed, closed her eyes, and sank into a chair across from crime reporter Janie-Paulette Young.
    “You look like shit, kid.”
    Ionie didn’t open her eyes. “Come on, JP. Nice way to greet your apprentice.”
    “Okay. You look like shit, young apprentice. Didn’t I send you home?”
    One eye peeked at the blond veteran reporter. Her mentor’s oval face, bowed lips, and stunning yellow eyes should have caught a husband years ago. “I went home.”
    JP pushed aside a stack of files, clearing enough room to sit on the edge of the steel desk. “When you went home, did you forget to get some shut eye?”
    “No, I dreamed of sugar plum fairies attacking the Easter Bunny.”
    “Next time, you’ll do what I tell you. I don’t need you half dead on your feet.”
    “Here I thought my Grandma lived in Hamtramck.”
    JP’s throaty laugh filled the room. Her friend was the parent she’d never expected when she’d turned up at
The Detroit News
a year ago, a rookie reporter trying to read the bookings report. The veteran was an ace shooter, a devil-smooth pool shark, and the smartest Lycanthrope reporter Ionie knew.
    “I met with Oren,” Ionie said.
    “Alone?” An unmistakable growl rumbled on the word.
    Ionie cringed. “He’s not
that
bad, JP.”
    “I’ve been at this a long time, and the guy creeps
me
out.”
    “What? You don’t like watery eyes and two sets of fangs in a pallid, haunted face drooling at you?”
    JP pulled a ‘you-gotta-be-kidding-me’ face. “We can talk about Prince Charming another time. Patrick wants you to head downtown ASAP. He sounded off. Watch your ass.”
    Ionie’s exhaled. She hadn’t checked Oren’s lead yet, but it was too late. She’d received a summons from the city editor.
    “Did you bring the keys?” she asked, latching on to a happier thought.
    JP tossed a jingling ball on the desk. “It’s parked in Luther’s old spot. Gassed up and ready to roll.”
    Ionie stared at the keys before reaching a trembling hand to grab them. When she’d told JP her own car had died a painful death earlier in the week, she never imagined her friend would get her another set of wheels.
    “I’ll repay you,” she said, choking back the heavy emotion clogging in her throat. “It may take a while on my salary, but I’ll do it. I promise.”
    “Then you’ll insult me,” JP said, locking yellow eyes on her. “You and me? We’re pack. We’re family. All there is to it.”
    Ionie managed a nod. She knew werewolves roamed in packs, but she’d never seen another Lycan from JP’s extended family. Since her friend never brought it up, she’d forced her curiosity away. If JP wanted to talk about her family, she’d do it.
    Still, buying a car for someone was a big damn deal. Ionie stared at the keys in her hand. The Ford emblem was etched into the black plastic, but not the model of the car. She shrugged and stood up. She had wheels again.
    “I’ll go see what Patrick wants.”
    “Did Oren give you a lead worth following?”
    Ionie scratched her head. “Maybe. I won’t know until I poke around a little.”
    “Be careful, small fry. Oren’s not a friend. He supplies information to anyone with a pulse,” JP called out.
    Ionie walked slowly to the elevator.
    • • •
    She needed more time. Oren’s hint tickled a corner of her brain, but meeting with Patrick without any substantial facts would stir up more questions than answers. The paper was losing money, a consequence of operating in a world where news went viral in a blink, everything a click away. Old-school outlets were hard-put to remain above water.
    Reporters like her? A dying breed.
    She stepped out of the used Ford Escort JP had bought her and smiled. One day, she’d repay the softhearted werewolf. She shoved open the brass entrance doors, and crossed the empty
News
lobby. She couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or nervous, but she spotted her destination and her head began to throb — a