Immortal Coil Read Online Free PDF Page B

woman.
    How did a woman brush off a man? They always made it look so easy. Not that he’d been on the receiving end very often, but it was bound to happen at least a few times in two thousand years. He needed to keep walking.
    Hunter shrugged off Drunk’s arm and sped up. The taxi was only one more block away.
    Drunk scurried to Hunter’s side and put his arm back across his shoulders. “Is that the way to treat a fine man like me?”
    Hunter rolled his eyes. He’d seen finer. Heck, he’d been finer.
    He should say he’s married.
    He didn’t know where the idea had come from, but he couldn’t say that, he had no proof. His gaze jumped to his hands. He hadn’t even thought to check if Anaea was married. Her fingers were splashed with blood, Anaea’s and the mage’s, but she didn’t wear a ring.
    Relief flooded him. He wasn’t sure why. In truth it was sad this woman was so completely alone. Kind of like him. Except his empty life was by choice.
    Of course, he didn’t really know anything about her at all. There probably was someone who loved her and waited for her to return home. Which meant he had two days to take care of business before a missing persons report was filed and the police started looking for him... her.
    The Dragon Court Clean Team was going to love him. Blood and an abandoned car on the Queen Street Bridge and two, maybe three, bodies in the hospital. He was going to have to buy Capri a half dozen more rare orchids for her hoard just to stay on her mostly-pleasant side.
    “Listen,” Hunter said, “my boyfriend is waiting for me.”
    Drunk squeezed Hunter close. “I’m sure he’ll share.”
    “After ten years in the state pen for manslaughter...I doubt it.”
    Drunk leapt back as if he’d been stung.
    Hunter bit his lip, forcing his expression to remain blank. He wasn’t sure where that line had come from, but it worked wonders. He’d have to keep it in mind the next time he was stuck in a female body—which was going to be never if he had any say in it.
    “You’re joking, right?”
    Hunter shook his head. “I suppose we could ask him.”
    Drunk didn’t respond. He spun on his heel, found a new target across the street, and rushed away. Hunter didn’t wait for anyone else to take his spot. He marched to the closest taxi and got in, and instructed the driver to take him to the train station.
     
    * * *
     
    As the taxi pulled up to the station, Hunter scanned the area for anyone dressed in a dark trench coat. There was no one around. It was late, at least an hour past
midnight
, and passenger trains didn’t run at this hour in Elmsville . Good, since it would be easier to spot danger, and yet bad since he’d stand out like a sore thumb on the security cameras.
    He paid the driver and got out. He’d need another taxi to get to his hotel, but he’d call one from a different company to cover his tracks.
    The snow had been shoveled from the walk and his boots crunched on the salt. He checked out the waiting area through the large windows as he approached.
    Still empty.
    The glass door was heavier than he remembered, reminding him that the last time he was at the station he’d been healthy and male. Little things seemed off to him, ever-so-slightly bigger or taller, and he wondered how long it would take for him to get used to it.
    He shook his head. He wasn’t going to get used to it. He’d contact Grey, have him arrange for an appropriate body, then hand over the medallion with Saber’s soul inside ready for rebirth and make his own, discreet transfer. Grey would know what kind of body to look for. They both had an appreciation for warriors after taking their Crusaders.
    The lockers sat to the right of the building in a narrow hall just past the public washrooms. He’d lost his key when he’d lost his body, but a dragon didn’t go more than a few centuries without picking up some useful skills.
    He eased over to his locker, at the far end, almost out of sight of the security