Miles to Go Read Online Free PDF

greenway began.
    This had been easier when it was still run down and dingy; nobody questioned a guy sitting on the bench, talking to himself. But then, I wasn’t by myself, now.
    That would make it easier, and possibly harder.
    “Sit.”
    She sat, legs stretched out in front of her, and damn the girl had some legs. She leaned back against the bench, her elbows braced, and lifted her face to the sun, then looked at me when I sat next to her.
    “Whatever happens, just pretend I’m talking to you.”
    “Whatever,” and she lazily waved a hand. It wasn’t a perfect act, but it was pretty good. I turned so that it seemed as though I was facing her, and watched the walkway over her shoulder.
    “I’m here looking for information. You know that I pay fair for whatever I get.”
    She shook her head, and smiled. Two men came along the path, talking to each other; one of them noticed her legs, the other kept yakking, and then they were gone. To my right, something in the sparse shrubbery between the walkway and the street made a rustling noise. It could have been the wind, or a squirrel, or a rat.
    “Come on, don’t waste my time.” I played irritated, annoyed, no time to waste. Truth was, I’d be willing to sit here all night if that’s what it took. I’d done it before.
    “More children gone walkabye?”
    My shadow jumped a little; the voice was right by her elbow, way too close, and way too loud for a whisper. I might have jumped too, if I hadn’t been expecting it.
    If someone weren’t paying attention, they’d think that a bush had overgrown the verge, greenstick branches reaching over the bench, buds of leaves too small for full-summer and the faintest hint of fading yellow flowers. Then they’d realize that the branches were too thick, the leaves and flowers moving with a slow, steady pulse, and then, if they were paying attention, they’d see the eyes, heavy black orbs, and the small, sucker-shaped mouth.
    “You know me,” I said, keeping it casual. The trick to dealing with fatae was to never let them think that you needed them. Humans liked to be needed, got off on it, could be flattered into giving it away. Fatae saw it as a chance to build obligation, accumulate debt they could turn around and use for themselves.
    Of course, they want to be needed, too. The desire to show off how much smarter you were is universal to every species that could communicate.
    “We know you,” it agreed. “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
    “Fish,” I said.
    “Ah.”
    One branchlet touched Ellen’s shoulder, and she managed not to jump or shudder. Her expression wasn’t too happy, though.
    “Talent,” it said. “Shiny-sharp.”
    “Valere’s,” I said, and the branchlet paused, squeezed once, and fell away. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t react. Someday – soon, I was betting – she’d be able to singe grabby hands on her own. But for now, a mentor’s protection was…well, part of why Talent had mentors.
    “You have anything?” I didn’t want to waste time.
    “Wrong time, right place. Fish go missing, weeks ago. Think first it was prank or school-joke, but they not come back. School scared, swim back north. Think shark got ‘em.”
    Close enough, if not the kind of sharks the school had been thinking.
    “You’re a pal,” I said, and passed something flat-palmed over Ellen’s shoulder, where it disappeared into the leaflets.
    oOo
    Ellen focused on breathing. If she kept breathing, she’d be all right, even when that…thing touched her, sticky-sharp pressure on her shoulder, on her neck, and she wouldn’t turn around to look, didn’t want to see anything more than what she’d already glimpsed out of the side of her eyes. She focused instead on Danny, on his face, his hands moving as he talked. He had nice hands, strong ones. They looked like they’d be capable of doing a lot more than hailing a cab or typing. She moved her gaze up to his face, the rough lines of his jaw, the curls