Eden Read Online Free PDF Page A

out a chair and join him as he sits down.  His hand
is still shaking as he pours.  I snatch my glass and gulp the liquid inside. 
He downs his, too.
    I sit back and take a deep breath, feeling the slow,
comforting burn of the alcohol.  There's a pause in which we look at each
other.
    "Another reason not to stay here," Jonas says. 
"Look at us.  We're both complete wrecks."
    My eyes flash wider for a second, recognizing the truth of
his words.  I look at the bottle and manage a smile with a tilt of my head. 
"But the whiskey's good." I'm a little breathless.  I meet his eyes
again and my eyebrow goes up.
    He reaches for our glasses and the bottle.  As he pours, he
says dryly, "I suppose I've missed having a flushing toilet."
    We take this drink a little slower, sipping at our glasses. 
I'm sure neither of us really wants to be drunk... even though, in a way, we
do.
    "I have a reason to stay," I say.  "At least
for a little while."  I'm not sure if the whiskey's already talking, or if
I just want to be able to tell him some small slice of the truth.
    Now his eyebrows go up.
    "You... probably won't like it," I admit. 
"So I'm not telling you what it is.  Not yet.  But I'm not leaving until
I'm ready."  I meet his eyes, now.  "And I think you already know how
stubborn I can be."
    He sighs.  "Then I guess I'm stuck here, too."
    I swallow, and I say it, though it might be the hardest
thing I've ever said.  "...You don't have to stay, just because of
me."
    Jonas just narrows his eyes at me, his chin dipping down. 
He lifts his glass and swallows the rest of its contents.  "You're my
family.  If you're staying, I'm staying."  His glass comes down on the
table, solid, like his words.
    I give him a little nod, finish my drink, and find that I
actually am tired.  Without a word I go to the bed and crash.
     
    ***
     
    I'm laying on my stomach, flipping through the pages of the
book that Lily left us, trying to commit some of its contents to memory.  It's
a lot of names and places, and to be honest, it doesn't mean much to me.  So
far I've figured out that Miami is made up of a bunch of different tribes—not
all that unlike the gang-type structure we've seen in other cities we've passed
through.  Only, this seems a bit more solid, I guess.  She's even sketched out
a map of the territories.
    We're in Wynwood, kind of in the middle of the city.  Our
tribe's territory isn't that big, compared to some of the others, but it looks
like we have a lot of allies.  Before I can wonder too much about what,
exactly, that means, I'm obsessing over the tribes marked with black,
six-pointed stars outlined in red.  There's something ominous about the symbol,
and I can't help but think that that's not coincidence.  Those tribes mostly
stretch in an east-west line across the middle of the city just below us.  A
little too close for comfort, if you ask me.  I spend some more time flipping
through pages, looking for an explanation, but when I don't find one quickly, I
turn back to the map.  There are a few territories that seem to be doing their
own thing.  But then there's what looks like a third large alliance
encompassing a lot, but not all, of the southern tribes.  And another tribe or
two here and there.  A handful of areas marked "No Man's".  A tribe
called Flagami, on the far western side of Miami, is exed out.  I frown at the
map and glance up at Jonas.
    He's passed out on the couch, still sound asleep.  One arm
has fallen off the edge and hangs toward the floor.  His face, turned toward
me, is a bit smushed, but he looks peaceful.  I don't suppose either of us
slept well on the road.
    I decide to let him sleep.  There will be plenty of time
later to point out oddities and analyze maps.  For now, I turn the page,
scanning vaguely.  I can't really concentrate, so I keep turning.  The light
coming through the window is growing dimmer, so I shift slightly toward it. 
Page after page.  Before long, I'm