Grave Matters: A Night Owls Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

shoving away from the desk. He was in a fairly decent mood. Sticking back here with his thoughts seemed a good way to drag it down. He headed out to the front of the store, where it was bright and peopled, and even though the register lackeys weren’t quite as good company as Val was, they were still decent kids.
    Five steps down the aisle he wished he’d stayed holed up back there after all.
    Two aisles over, head bent in intense scrutiny over a book, was Cavale.
    Fuck.
    About the only thing he and Cavale had in common was their intense mutual dislike. They’d worked together without coming to blows with the Jackals and Justin and all, but soon as that business was done, the two had gone right back to being oil and water. Upon their first meeting, Chaz had decided Cavale was a pretentious know-it-all with a side of batshit crazy thrown in, what with the warlockery. Chaz’ enmity had nothing at all to do with Cavale being better suited to be a Renfield than he was. Nothing. At. All.
    Maybe he hasn’t seen me yet.
Slowly as he could, Chaz edged backward, toward the safety of the back room. He must have looked like one of those old cartoons: mouse sneaking past the sleeping cat, talking animal avoiding the hunter or the cowboy or the alien, bookseller ducking his archrival.
    But this archrival was a Hunter with a capital
H
, and while Bugs Bunny might be able to get the drop on Elmer Fudd, Cavale’s senses were actually, eerily, sharp. He glanced up before Chaz had even retreated two steps.
That kid must have killer peripheral vision.
    At first, Chaz hoped he could get out of it with one of those chin tilts, the kind that said “hey” without actually exchanging words, and they could just ignore each other. He gave it a try.
    But no. Of course not. Cavale snagged a couple books off the shelf and headed his way. His movements had a grace about them, his height lending fluidity to his stride. Chaz remembered how he’d prowled around the store after the Jackals had fled, searching every corner to make sure none were hiding out. It was the same today, though as far as Chaz knew there was nothing scarier here than college students cramming for midterms.
    Chaz put on his best helpful bookseller face and reminded himself that, colossal dick or no, Cavale might actually be a paying customer.
    “Val’s not here,” Chaz said by way of greeting. He cut his gaze toward the recently restored window, where the street outside had turned the molten gold of an October sunset. “She has some stuff to do before she comes in, so, uh, probably won’t see her here for a couple hours at least.”
    “That’s okay. I needed a book. You guys are on my way home.”
    “Right, right, from that new age shop.” Cavale’s day job involved reading tarot cards and tea leaves for people who believed in that mind-body-spirit shit. Chaz had Opinions on that, involving the morality of duping housewives and grandmothers out of their pocket money; but then again, some of those same customers probably headed over here and bought books on
Visualizing Your Way to a Better Life Without Actually Making Any Fucking Changes
. And he sold
those
without batting an eye, so he really didn’t have the high ground on this one.
    Cavale’s eyes narrowed as he braced for the insult.
Did I telegraph it that much?
Chaz waved it off; he’d been in too good a mood to start a pissing contest. “Anyway. Uh. Something I can help you with?”
    There was a look that Elly got about her sometimes, as though at any second she might bolt. Her mouth and eyes tightened, her gaze cut to the exits, and you’d swear the only reason she remained in her chair was because she was afraid to make any sudden movements. Never before had Chaz seen Cavale get that look. He did now, though. His grip on the books tightened. The fight went out of his sky blue eyes, replaced by wariness.
    Chaz glanced down at the books. “What, are you—”
Buying porn, man?
was what he’d been winding