Bound to Ashes (The Altered Sequence Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

and the bag flattens and crinkles. “You really think it’ll be enough for them? They’re like... huge.”
    Peregrine eyes me, making sure whatever I said didn’t give away our plan. The onions, Pere, I was talking about the onions of course.... She says, “They all get the same amount.”
    I can count the number of guys sitting in the cafeteria. Each one’s dropper, each one’s dish of stew sits fresh in my mind. Each one plays like rehearsed scenes in my mind.
    Except one. “Uh, Pere....”
    She follows my look and glances at the guy. Average sized, the one with a thick accent from... somewhere... and eyes you’re afraid to look at for too long. Big and blue and crazy. A cloth laid out on the table in front of him has a bunch of little gun parts lying on it, he rubs another with a rag in his hands. “Did you serve that one...?”
    Peregrine shivers and whispers, “Shit. He didn’t get any.”
    “Why didn’t he get any?!”
    “I don’t know, Vin, maybe he’s not hungry ,” she whispers through her grit teeth. “Dammit.”
    “What do we do?”
    She looks at me, then holds both her hands up and says, “Hold on.” She swings around the serving tables and back into the kitchens, clanging some stuff around. Her hair swings by her face like the coiled wires of a bridge collapsing. She rushes back out with one of those plastic... um....
    “What is that?”
    It’s some kind of weird cup, with holes at the bottom and a coffee filter on the top. She smirks at me, one of those smirks she uses for when she says, ‘You’re too young to get it,’ and says, “Coffee. Offer him coffee.”
    My body freezes up. “Wh—me?!”
    “Yes, you!”
    “Why me?”
    “You’re less in cahoots with Aless, that’s why,” Peregrine says. “They don’t trust me as much.”
    I frown, because she’s right, and the thought of walking over there and standing close to that maniac is enough to make me want to fight one of the guys for their death-stew.
    “Fine.”
     
    I stare into the black coffee, the nutty smelling, amazing coffee, that isn’t mine... and sigh. “It seems wrong to do this to coffee. I feel like I should say a few words or something.”
    Peregrine pushes on my back gently, ushering me out from behind the serving table, and says, “We’ll hold a memorial service for it later. Just go.”
    “But what do I say? I can’t pretend I’m just being nice out of nowhere, he knows we all hate them—”
    Peregrine stalls and can I catch my breath. She says, “I dunno, Vin, just make it seem like it’s in his best interest. And come on, it’s coffee! Coff-ee! No one says no to coffee.”
    I hope she understands that my staring means, ‘I will get you back for this someday.’ But she just smiles and makes little ‘go on’ motions with her hands.
    The dirty, awkwardly quiet cafeteria makes my skin crawl. The little plastic mug full of black gold shivers in my hand. This sucks. This sucks .
    With every step I feel like the floor is going to cave in under me. Soon I’m standing right by him. I suck in a shaky breath and say, “Sir.” Because we’re all supposed to call them sir.
    He looks up lazily, away from the pistol taken apart in front of him, and says, “What?” With that weird accent, it makes him less approachable. Like he was some kind of animal tamed from the wild, trained to kill and follow orders....
    “Uh, orders from—” I swallow. What’s he thinking? That I’m lying? Come on Vinder, you’re not being very convincing. No, don’t look at Peregrine. You can do this.
    The guy just stares at me with those freaky eyes.
    “Heydrich’s orders, sir, those not served their rations need to keep their strength up.” I frown. He expects me to frown because I hate wasting coffee on a guy like this. That much, at least, I don’t have to fake.
    The guy glances at me, at the cup, back at me. “Leave it.”
    I set the cup down too quickly and back away. Don’t run, Vinder, just walk... back