Strength & Courage (The Night Horde SoCal Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the country.
     
    Where Muse was headed on this night, though, toward Demon’s ex’s apartment, was a different kind of neighborhood in a different kind of town, twenty or so miles, and a whole world, away. Gangs and dust.
     
    He didn’t think there was ever a time that California roads were clear of traffic, but three o’clock on a weekday morning was probably as close as it got. Not for much longer; in an hour or so, the commuters from these far-reaching exurbs would be heading west toward L.A. with their giant travel mugs of coffee. For now, though, Muse almost had the road to himself.
     
    He’d driven about fifteen minutes when Sherlock called back. “I think I got him. 17497 Zinnia Lane. It’s here in Madrone. Signal’s steady. Looks like he’s sitting there, far as I can tell.”
     
    “What’s there?”
     
    “I don’t know, man. Hold up.” There was a pause, and Muse pulled to the side of the road. He could hear a baby crying in the background. Sherlock had an on-off thing with a chick who had a couple of kids. Sounded like they were on tonight. “Residential. Don’t recognize the names at or around that address: Hernandez, Johnston, Berger, Tuladhar, Schmick…”
     
    One of the names rang a bell for Muse, and he got a sick feeling. He’d seen a nameplate on a desk. “Hold up. What was the T one?”
     
    “Tuladhar? Yeah. The first name’s weird, too. Sid…Sid o nie, something like that? You know him?”
     
    “Her. It’s French. That’s the social worker took Tucker today—yesterday.”
     
    “Fuck.”
     
    “Yeah. I’m on it.”
     
    “You need backup?”
     
    “Nah. But stay alert. I’ll call if I do.” Muse ended the call and swung the van around, headed back home.
     
     
    ~oOo~
     
     
    When he got to Zinnia Lane and found Demon leaning on his bike, he swung the van around in the narrow street and parked behind him.
     
    The street was in a pretty little residential area, the kind with wide, even sweeps of sidewalk, where everybody had automatic sprinkler systems and enough trust in the world to put matching furniture and fancy gewgaws out on their front porches, safe in the knowledge that they would be left undisturbed. The houses were small but nicely kept—the kind of neighborhood middle-class people were proud to live in.
     
    The kind of neighborhood that might be unsettled by a big biker hanging out in their street in the middle of the night. Muse wondered whether Demon had already been noticed. He got himself ready to deal with cops. The Horde had good relationships with the various powers in Madrone, so he wasn’t especially worried, but it would be a hassle, at least.
     
    He got out of the van and walked up to his friend, shrugging his kutte on as he went. Demon didn’t acknowledge his presence until he spoke. “What are we doing here, Deme?”
     
    “Waiting.”
     
    He stared steadily across the street. Muse followed his gaze to the little bungalow. Typical, Spanish-style stucco with a red-tile roof. Three arched casement windows in a row next to a small turret with an arched oak door. The porch light was on, showing a cute little flower garden in the yard along a low front porch with wicker furniture and colorful flowerpots. A chick definitely lived there.
     
    “What are we waiting for?”
     
    “Bitch to get home.”
     
    Not to encourage him on his fool mission but to keep him talking, Muse asked, “You sure she’s not? It’s three o’clock on a Friday morning.”
     
    “No car. I checked her garage. She’ll be home. I’ll wait till she is.”
     
    “And do what?”
     
    “Get my kid back.”
     
    “Pretty sure she doesn’t have him with her, Deme.”
     
    Now he stood up from the bike and turned to Muse. “Don’t be an asshole. I know Tucker’s not with her. But she’s the one with the fucking file. Nobody’ll give me a chance. Whatever happened with Kota, it’s their fucking fault. He should’ve been with me. She knows where he is. She