Dark City (The Order of Shadows Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

venturing out. Taking what they want. The horde's at the gates.
    Usually I'd take it as nothing more than an empty threat, but then there was Lyra's weird nightmare. And her dreams have come to pass way too often for my liking. No, something was happening out there. Something new and malevolent. Something my boss at the Organization decided I didn't need to be told about.
    Being human and on the lowest rung of the company ladder meant I was used to being kept in the dark where the intel is concerned. Need to know basis, and all that.
    But this was a need to know situation, for me at least. The whole business reeked of evil, and if there was evil, there was a good chance Elsbeth Wyght wouldn't be far away.
    I considered checking the news for any possible developments, but they rarely broadcasted stories that were helpful in my line of work. Strictly human concerns; murder, rape, corruption, each chasing the other's tail in a vicious circle.
    I glanced at my phone, the display reflecting my bruised face and the flickering candles behind me.
    There was always Haskins, he might have heard something...
    The crossroads beckoned. But instead of four paths, there were two; blissful ignorance, or a Pandora's box. My curiosity outshines caution every single time. Maybe it's why the cats have such a strong affinity with me.
    I switched the phone back on and dialed.
    There was still time to hang up, to switch it off. Just finish the whiskey and let the world sort itself out.
    But that's not what I do.
    "Haskins."
    "It's Morgan."
    "What do you want, Rook?"
    I took another drink. "Anything happening?"
    "Plenty. And..."
    "And what?"
    Haskins sighed. "And it's late, and I've had a bitch of a day-"
    "And what?" I repeated.
    "A murder. Weird shit. Must have been done by one of your lot."
    By your lot, he meant someone into the occult. Haskins isn't the best at communicating, but what he lacks in expression, he makes up for with stone cold greed. Which meant getting more information would be easy as long as I was willing to pay. "I can't cross your greasy palms with silver if you won't tell me what happened."
    He paused, as if waging a silent battle between his fatigue and greed. "Meet me at the diner. And bring a packet."
    A packet meant an envelope with a thousand bucks inside and not a penny less. Covert information comes at a high price in this city. "I'll be there in half an hour."
    "Right." Haskin's siren blared in the background as he hung up.
    My arms ached as I pulled on my jacket and glanced at the mirror by the door. My face was pale in the candlelight. I smoothed back my black hair and buttoned my collar to cover the bloody wound on my throat. There was nothing I could do about the bruises blooming on the side of my face.
    Thankfully the lights are always dim in Nika's Diner.
    The cats glanced up as I grabbed my umbrella and a final belt of whiskey.
    It was going to be a long night.

5
    L unar Avenue was only a couple of turns off the main street that runs through the heart of the city, but almost no one knew about it. There's a heavy glamour in this neighborhood and it works well, keeping non-magical people out. Me and Haskins, we're exceptions.
    I hurried down the sidewalk as the rain thundered down on my umbrella. Nika's Diner's at the end of the road, near a shoe shop that I've never seen open in the twenty five years I've lived here, and a bar called The Lucky Coin.
    Sometimes the Coin opens during the day, sometimes at dusk, and if there's any rhyme or reason to its business hours, I can't figure it. The place has a reputation for anonymity and easy violence. I've found more than a few of my charges there and some of the bloodstains that littered the grimy pavement outside were definitely my own. Which was why I kept my head down tonight. If I'm not on Organization business, I'm not supposed to carry a weapon. Not that I cared but I wanted to stay off their radar, for now at least.
    My reflection was like a ghost in the diner