Bloodlines Read Online Free PDF Page A

herself. Maybe someday it would come in handy, and she could get a new car out of it.
    She watched Lew's long brown fingers on the steering wheel of the Bel Air, holding sure and steady as he drove down El Camino Real toward San Diego. She tucked her toes under Lew's thigh. When he looked over at her, she said, "Mind if I keep them warm?"
    He shook his head. She saw him swallow hard and she smiled. "Where are we going?"
    "Mexico."
    "I don't speak Mexican."
    "I speak Spanish. We'll be all right."
    "You speak two languages? Brother, you don't say much in either one of them."
    "A buen entendedor, pocas palabras," he said.
    "What does that mean?"
    "To she who understands well, few words are needed," he said, and ran a strong hand along her nylon stockings from her heel to the back of her knee, causing her skirt to cascade softly back to her hips, exposing the place where her stockings attached to her garters, and beneath, a glimpse of pink.
    **CHAPTER 4
    ERIC YEAGER SHIVERED AND TUCKED HIS LARGE HANDS INTO THE POCKETS of his peacoat. He waited in darkness behind a rusted iron gate and looked out toward the sea, although the fog was now so thick he couldn't see the ocean, a hundred yards away. He could hear it, though. A storm was coming. If he hadn't heard that on his car radio, he would have known it by the sound of the breakers. He stretched a little, his muscles sore from a hard night's work. There was a painful wound on his forearm that stopped him mid-stretch. He felt a brief flare of anger as he recalled receiving it, then smiled to himself. The wound had, after all, been more than avenged.
    He was a young man, strong, and if not precisely handsome, attractive enough to draw women to his side without much effort. He was not foolish enough to doubt that his uncle's millions were part of that magnetism. Everyone in Las Piernas knew that Mitch Yeager and his wife were childless, and doted on Eric and Ian, their nephews, who had lost both parents before they were ten.
    He wondered what everyone in Las Piernas would think of Uncle Mitch's latest act of charity. Word wasn't out about the adoption yet, but once it was, would women be so anxious to date Eric and Ian, knowing Uncle Mitch now had a young son?
    Uncle Mitch had assured them that he would always take care of them, but Eric was uneasy. Ian, younger and bolder than Eric, had shrugged this off. "We're worse off without Uncle Mitch than we are with him. He didn't have to do shit for us, and look how many nice things he does for us all the time. We owe him some loyalty--think about Aunt Estelle."
    Eric didn't have much respect for his aunt, who never stood up to anybody, but he knew that she loved babies and had always been sad about not having one of her own. Maybe, as Ian claimed, Uncle Mitch had decided to take this kid under his roof for her sake.
    Eric doubted it.
    He knew what Ian would say to that, too. Ian sometimes called him "'Fraidy," as in "'Fraidy Cat." Eric had beat the crap out of him more than once for that, but nobody ever taught Ian anything with a fist. Eric secretly admired him for it, but still wished he would wise up about Uncle Mitch. They couldn't count on him forever. Especially not with this new kid in the picture.
    "Uncle Mitch's plans are always good ones," Ian had said. "You know that." He smiled and cuffed Eric on the shoulder. "You aren't jealous of an itty-bitty baby, are you?"
    "Just worried about the future, little brother," Eric said. Every now and then he had to rub in the fact that he was older.
    "You know what's wrong with you? You need some action. When you aren't doing anything else, you worry."
    Eric admitted this was true. Tonight, he hadn't found time to worry at all, until now, when he was sitting here waiting for Ian.
    Eric reached into his coat and brought out a pack of cigarettes and a silver monogrammed lighter. Neither the initials nor the lighter were his. He flicked the flint wheel of the lighter and it sparked a flame on the