Silenced Read Online Free PDF Page A

cross-legged on the bed. How adorkable.
    I walk over and hold out a hand. She places her own in my palm, and I bend to kiss it. I get another girlish giggle.
    Smiling as I straighten I ask, “Got a name, giggly?”
    She nods. “Tahlia.”
    “Tahlia.” I sit on the chair next to the bed. “I’d offer you something to eat, but all I have is beard crumbs.” I smile.
    She laughs again and waves me off. I find myself leaning over, as if the sound of her laugh has strings that pull me in.
    “I already ate. But thank you.” She tucks her hair behind her ears. Her eyes meet my gaze, a half smile on her lips. “So, how does this work?”
    My mind stutters, unable to think of an answer. “How… this works?”
    “Yeah, you know… You calling me.”
    “Calling you,” I mutter, a surplus of useless replies. My body slowly tightens as the reality of the situation sets into my muscles.
    Juliet sent this girl here for me to kill.
    I squeeze my eyes shut, disgust swarming my insides. Not because it’s not the same thing that I just realized only moments ago, but because this is not how I do things.
    Not anymore.
    What’s even worse is that I don’t know if I’m disgusted by the fact Juliet sent this girl here to die, or by the fact that I’m going to kill her anyway.

I pace the room while this girl, Tahlia, prattles on like I’m not about to take her life. Her youth and eagerness crash into me like jagged waves. Thoughts roar in my head at high speeds, none of which stick around for very long. Well, none but the one.
    Juliet sent this girl here to hear my song. For me to kill.
    Like I’m one of her murderous Enforcers.
    And I want to.
    I grit my teeth and dart my gaze at her. I want to real bad.
    Her energy jabs at me like a heavyweight pinning me to the ropes, until my throat is an ache of rug burn. Sweat beads up on my brow, and need sends jolt after jolt of pain through my body.
    Yeah, I’m going to kill this fine ass, prattling girl.
    No!
    I stop pacing and ball my hands up at my sides.
    I try to inhale control on my breath. As I hold it into my lungs, I repeat a revised version of the little engine mantra.
    I will not kill. I will not kill.
    “Pike?” Her strained voice darts through my storm-swept thoughts, and I pause to glare into those thick, green eyes. She stands and inches toward me.
    I go rigid.
    She juts up her chin, an expectant look on her face.
    My eyes narrow. “You say something?” I back a few inches away from her.
    She folds her arms with a smirk on her lips. “I asked if you play.” She gestures across the room toward the bed. I follow her gaze and spot a worn, black guitar case leaned against the foot of the bed.
    My body jerks in pain.
    She gasps. “You okay?” As her arm reaches to steady me, I stumble a few feet away.
    I breathe through the pain and force my attention back to the case. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it. Almost killing Kenya must have distracted me. I gulp down the even stronger want—no, not want, need--to kill Tahlia-and clear my mangled throat.
    “Uh, yeah. That’s Gip.”
    Her footsteps shuffle and my gaze follows as she moves back to the bed and runs a finger down the case. She turns her head, a sly smile settled on her face.
    “Gip?” she asks.
    “It’s what I call my guitar.”
    She giggles. “I’ve never known a guy that named his instrument.”
    I grin at the double meaning and she blushes.
    “Will you play for me?”
    The laugh I choke up almost sounds demented. “Nah.”
    Her eyes go wide and white. “Why not?”
    I reach behind my head and pull my dreads back. I need a hair tie; this shit is hotter than a mofo. But pulling on it delivers sharp little pains to my scalp. It distracts me from the fact that I want to kill her now.
    Breathe.
    I will not kill.
    I will not kill.
    I clear my throat and force my face into the most neutral position I can manage. “Because if I did that, it’d only kill you faster.” Angel and demon Pike go back