Inertia (Gravity Series, 3.5) (The Gravity Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

tightly, and watched the doors shut.
    “Well done,” Phillip said. He smiled warmly and patted Warwick on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you. Good to finally see some initiative.”
    “What’s going to happen to her?” Warwick asked, still staring at the fire exit. The goons hadn’t come back out. “The same thing as the Reed girl?”
    “More or less. The bloodfeeding is scheduled for”— Phillip checked his watch, as though he were talking about a dinner reservation —“Early in the morning, one am. Then this seal will be half active, and during the school dance later in the fall, we’ll complete the circuit. I’ll let you know what time to be here.”
    Phillip moved to get back in his Lexus, but Warwick stopped him. He touched his shoulder this time, mimicking his earlier motions, and Phillip seemed to cringe that someone invaded his space for a change.
    “We need to talk about what this means,” Warwick said. He had found a rare moment of clarity and was holding on to it for dear life.
    Phillip’s face seemed innocently surprised. Warwick knew better; he knew how the machinations of Rhodes’ devious mind worked. “What what means?”
    “Don’t play innocent with me. I’m not one of your patsies. You said that I could have an upper chair position.”
    “Of course. All in due time.”
    “Enough with the runaround,” Warwick erupted, causing Phillip to take a step back. His perfectly pressed suit and heavy black coat were getting spotted with the rain that was starting to fall again. “I’m original blood, related to one of the first. How can you deny me?”
    Warwick was salivating and breathing heavily. He realized a line of spittle had run out of the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away.
    “Get a hold of yourself, man,” Phillip said darkly. “Good things come to those who wait. My God, I not only let you grab the Reed girl, but I let you cut her as well. That was very important to the Society, perhaps even most important, because so many things could have gone wrong. We didn’t even know if it would work. And I placed that trust in you.”
    Warwick scrubbed his hands through his dirty hair. “I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he confessed. “Like the world is spinning wrong, and I’ve been having the strangest thoughts that I can’t control. I’m obsessing about death and I don’t know how to stop it.”
    “Just your nerves,” Phillip reassured him, sliding into the Lexus. “Talk to your doctor about it. That’s what I do.”
    He shut the door and zoomed out of the parking lot, leaving Warwick alone in the rain.
    ###
    The trio was sitting around the gritty, scuffed wooden table that Warwick usually reserved for poker night. There was a knock at the door, and Principal McPherson slid inside. Warwick’s first thought was that he would make a terrible spy—all shifty eyes and nervous twitching. His coat was bunched up on his shoulders like the Headless Horseman. If his goal was to bring more attention to himself, he would have succeeded spectacularly.
    The three at the table—Warwick, the English teacher Ms. Fellows, and the math teacher Mr. Vanderlip—kept their voice low. McPherson, the dolt, was too thick in the meninges to think to speak low.
    “Were you followed?” Warwick asked. He didn’t want Phillip or any of his spies there.
    “No. I made sure,” McPherson said. His only involvement in the rituals so far had been standing to the side, and Warwick could sense that he was itching like the rest of them to get a bigger role.
    Warwick’s eyes flicked to the space underneath the door. Even in the dim light, when he squinted he thought he saw shadows moving outside. His fingers twitched and he rested them on a glass ashtray, ready to throw it at the door. He waited.
    “I’m not an idiot,” McPherson growled. But he looked like one, his face red and his expression devoid of intelligence. The way the light hit his glasses turned the lenses into shining