Dark Game (Merikh Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to listen, my muscles contracting and relaxing rhythmically, preparing me for the coming fight.
    There was no sound beyond the metal door, nothing to indicate anything unsavory was going on. I knew there was, though, and I knew I had to do something. But I couldn't move, couldn't make myself throw the door open and jump into the fray.
    I was scared, frozen in place. The idea of facing two men in a fight, even men trained to kill, wouldn't normally have been enough to stop me. I’d faced off against multiple people before and relished the chance to let loose, to put my skills to use and do some damage.
    But these men were connected to something magical, something I didn't understand and something I feared. I couldn't fight magic, not with my fists or with my mind. I wasn't equipped to deal with it and it had almost killed me in the past.
    A sound from inside woke me from my trance. A muffled moan, perhaps a woman's. I grabbed the handle and prepared to tear the door open.
    It opened on its own and instinct took over. I hadn't paid attention to the alley when I rushed over but my subconscious had and I threw myself into a pile of garbage bags without thinking. I made myself as small as I could and thanked the gods the collection guys were running a few weeks late.
    “Thanks for this,” one of the goons said. His voice was deep and I could hear the smile in his voice. “You've been a good cow.”
    “Just go,” Claire said. Her voice was trembling.
    “We've done you a favor, charity,” the other man said. “You should be thankful.”
    “Yeah, be thankful,” the first one added. “We don't make you bring us the stuff. We save you the effort.” He chuckled as he shook something in his hand, but his voice had a growl to it when he said, “Say thank you.”
    “Thank you,” Claire said, then slammed the door shut and locked it.
    The men laughed, leaving the alley on the far side.
    I didn't know what to think, about the men or about my own actions. They hadn't been inside long enough to do what I’d been afraid of, but something unpleasant had happened. Something that frightened Claire and excited the goons.
    And I’d let it happen, standing outside, powerless against my fear. I allowed them to do whatever they did and didn’t try to stop it.
    “What's happening?” Mouse said in my ear.
    “They picked something up from the waitress.”
    “Any idea what it was?”
    “I'm going to follow them and find out.”
    Mouse remained silent as I slipped out of the pile of trash and hurried to the corner.
    When I looked around they were already a block away, one of them with a backpack slung over one shoulder. It was pink and had a bow attached to the large buckle holding it shut.
    “Do you need me?” Mouse said. “This place is dead, anyway.” She was a real estate agent in a town nobody wanted to buy in. It was the perfect cover for someone who needed to make unexplained trips out of the office and have nothing to show for it.
    “Not yet.” The men walked past their car, a current model, black BMW with all the extras, and kept walking. The town was small and pretty much everywhere was within walking distance. “They're staying in town.”
    “Trevor's car is parked outside the distillery.” We’d planted a tracker the day we arrived; it was risky, but we hadn't known that at the time. We’d thought we were pulling off a simple hit, not facing someone with the kind of security Trevor Foster kept around him.
    “Thanks.”
    I cut right at the next intersection and broke into an easy jog. The streets were still empty and the early morning light made dark recesses all along the route. If I needed to I could disappear into one of them, but I didn't think it would be necessary.
    I continued another two blocks over, working up a slight sweat as I passed the few houses on this side of town. Dogs barked from behind sagging chain fences but nobody paid them any attention and soon I was out of town and into the surrounding