Spirit Storm Read Online Free PDF Page A

guy.”
    “Do you have room on your library card to check them out?” I asked.
    “Are you kidding?” she asked. “Mine is totally maxed out. Is Simon coming with Cal?”
    “Yeah, I think so,” I answered.
    “Then we should make him check them out,” Emma said. “That is, if he even has a library card.”
    To Emma that was the biggest insult ever. She worshipped this place. Books were her religion and the library her church.
    “I’m sure Simon has a library card,” I said. “He’s not a total spawn of Satan. He just likes to pretend he is.”
    “Talking about me again darlings?” Simon asked as he rounded the corner to our study area. “You can stop going through Simon withdrawal loves. I’m here now in the flesh.”
    “I take that back,” I said, looking at Emma. “He really is the spawn of Satan.”
    “There’s really only one way to find out,” Emma said. “Simon, do you have a library card?”
    “I think it’s in my pocket,” Simon said, grinning at Emma. “Want to help me search for it?”
    “Simon,” Calvin growled, walking toward us. “Enough!”
    Simon pulled his wallet from his back pants pocket and, eyes downcast, slid his library card onto the table in front of Emma. He turned his back to Calvin and winked at Emma with a huge grin on his face. Brat .
    The sly grin slipped from Simon’s face as he began sniffing at the air. Walking closer to the stack of books at the corner of the table, he exclaimed, “The illegitimate son of a…he’s been here. The man I smelled in the woods at the murder scene. He handled these books.”
    Son of a dung beetle . My hunch was right. The guy who nearly knocked me down the library steps was our murder suspect. A tiny voice inside my head wished I could have pulled off some hardcore ninja moves when I had my chance, but it was a very, very small voice. Mostly I felt afraid. I was afraid of the killer who lurked in our midst, for my friends and the safety of the pack, for myself, but most of all afraid for Calvin, the love of my life and the most likely target for a man obsessed with hunting werewolves.
    Simon’s affirmation of the man’s presence at yesterday’s murder scene left us all a bit out of sorts. Calvin sat pensively staring at the offending stack of books; Emma turned an ashen shade of gray and opened the nearest book on spirit wards, escaping into her well-ordered world of research; and Simon paced like a caged animal. I looked down at my already chewed black fingernails and tried not to think about blood and brownies and the glassy eye of a wolf who could no longer see this world.
    “When is the funeral?” I finally asked. “I should probably be there in case this new spirit really is Gavin.”
    “It’s scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” Cal said. “You’re right. We should all try to attend. Maybe the killer will even make an appearance. Do you think you’d recognize him?”
    “I don’t think so,” I said. “I really didn’t see his face, but the spirits might be able to give me something. It’s worth a try.”
    Cal knew how much I cringed at the thought of funerals and cemeteries, where I might encounter more spirits of the dead, and gave me an encouraging smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be there with you the whole time.” My knight in furry armor.
    “Don’t thank me yet,” I said ruefully. “I still may run screaming from the funeral which would not be helpful. Too bad I can’t wear my safety pin shirt.”
    “Why not?” Emma asked. “Shiny is the new black.”
    “Says who, love?” Simon asked dubiously.
    “Says me,” Emma hissed.
    I was so not looking forward to this funeral and Simon and Emma’s arguing was only making my headache worse. The acrid smell of burning brownies wasn’t helping either.
    “You two better start getting along if you’re going to pass as each other’s date for the funeral,” Cal said.
    “What?” Simon and Emma asked in unison.
    “You have got to be kidding