Dead Of Winter (The Beautiful Dead Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

have other candidates.”
    “Oh? You mean like Jasmine, who refused to take part in politics? Or Headless Ann, who can’t keep her hands to herself? Ugh. Of all the things I thought I’d have to worry about, hormonal Undead teens was not one of them.”
    I’m distracted by the blue that still strikes my eyes through the window. The sun is directly above, which frustrates me desperately. I so want to be outside right now while this experience lasts. “So … we do have legitimate worries?”
    “No.” Helena crosses her legs, sighing tragically. “Listen. Our sweet little haven in this world is very, very fragile. There are a staggering amount of things that can ruin this for all of us, Living and Not. And I’m talking far more than just dropping temperatures.”
    “Horny teenagers?” I offer helpfully, still staring at the endless blue. I think I see a cloud …
    She ignores my quip. “This is serious.” I face her, ears perked. “Very serious. Only you and I and the Chief know that we have had no new Raises in nearly a month.”
    If Marigold or Roxie or anyone else at that squatty pink building have half a brain, they’re well aware, too. “The workers at the Refinery have to know. Why else haven’t they had any new Raise work in so long?”
    “I know ,” Helena says, biting that last word with too-white teeth. “It still remains imperative that we’re quiet. Without Raises, it seems that even the Undead’s days are numbered. We must prevent widespread panic, Winter.”
    “Okay.”
    “That brings me to my next point.” Hel leans across the table and lowers her voice, as though others were lurking in the house. I wonder if she expects the spiders and cockroaches to eavesdrop. “There are only a handful of us who know about … the Deathless practice …”
    I stare at her hard in the eye. “Deathless practice?”
    “Of feeding.” She licks her lips, lifts a careful brow. I keep my face plain and dead as a porcelain mask. “The Humans are not all aware of what happens when an Undead feeds on the stuff of the Living.” She nearly gags after saying that, then resumes: “I know of it, Jasmine knows of it, John and Megan and the Chief know—thanks to you—and of course, you know.” Her dark eyes narrow. “That is already far too many people to share a deadly secret. Should that news spread, the Humans will fear for their lives and—forgive me—some of our Undead may be far too tempted. I don’t know everyone in Trenton. There are too many people. I cannot trust them all to behave and to keep their … teeth … to themselves.”
    “Of course,” I agree, staring at the table now. “That makes sense.” The old Judge Enea could smell the blood on my breath. It’s ridiculous because the Undead cannot smell, but she seemed to be able to. I wonder if Helena is picking up any similar trace. “Of course, of course, it can’t be known.” I suddenly find myself very self-conscious and scared and, well …
    Mostly I feel ashamed.
    “And I think it may go without saying,” she goes on, “that you will be joining John in the party heading north to our neighbors for assistance.”
    I didn’t realize—I’d thought—“But Hel … The Chief said we’d form a party made of—”
    “Human and Undead, to include at least two Humans. John and Gunner, I believe the Chief decided. And I have chosen you, as well as Jasmine for her … green thumb , shall we call it? You four leave tomorrow at sunrise.”
    “Jasmine? Are you sure she’s up for it, after …?” In the Battle of the Deathless versus the citizens of Trenton several months ago, her sort-of daughter, a gloomy girl with black braided hair, was destroyed by a Warlock. Yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it’s the world we live in, and not even the Undead are safe from permanent ends. Warlocks can turn any of us to dust with a flinch of their green, glowing eyes. Something to do with voodoo or necromancy or jealous