The Coil Read Online Free PDF

black. The cold rain pelted so fiercely that it slammed back up from the pavement. They dodged and rushed, growing chilled and stiff. At last, Asher spotted the bistro’s sign: ROUGET DE LISLE . It was at the end of the block. He was gesturing at it, about to tell Sarah, when a black van suddenly screeched to a halt beside them, hiding them from traffic.
    Before its wheels stopped, Asher’s internal alarm sounded. His alert gaze slashed from the van across the empty sidewalk to the dark alley on their other side. Two men wearing ski masks and armed with handguns jumped out from where they had been pressed against the wall, hiding. Asher hurled the open umbrella at them.
    They ducked, and he gave Sarah a violent shove to get her safely past. He whipped out the small pistol strapped to his ankle just as the van’s door slammed open.
    As he swung his gun to aim, Sarah spun back to look for him. Her water-streaked face froze in horror as she took in the well-coordinated attack.
    As he opened his mouth to bellow at Sarah to run, there was the muffled pop-pop of silenced gunfire. A bullet crashed into Asher’s chest. Out of nowhere, a giant seemed to grab him roughly and hurl him backward. He landed hard. His arms and legs sprawled and his head hit the sidewalk. His gun flew from his hand. His eyes closed.
    Sarah screamed, “Get away from me!”
    Her voice barely penetrated his pain-filled mind.
    â€œAsher!” she called frantically. “Are you all right? Asher! Let me go to him!”
    There were the scuffling sounds of struggle.
    â€œ Merde! ” one of the men swore.
    â€œShe’s a tiger,” another agreed in French.
    Asher tried to open his eyes, to roll over, to get to his feet. Fight. Save Sarah. A massive cauldron burned in his chest. He raged helplessly, inwardly.
    â€œGet Walker into the van!” one of the men shouted. “Hurry!”
    â€œAsher!” Her longing cry stabbed his heart.
    In a frenzy, Asher struggled harder. Felt himself move. His palms dug into the wet pavement.
    Before he could push himself up, powerful hands smashed his shoulders back down. Someone cried out in pain. Him?
    A voice spoke harshly into his ear: “If you want to see your wife alive again, Flores, get us the Carnivore’s files. You and Langley have four days. No more. The Carnivore’s files. Say it.” This man’s words were English, the accent American.
    Asher tried to move his lips. He pushed out air. “Carnivore,” he managed. “Four days.” The Carnivore’s files? What files? “ Impossible! ”
    But the hands were gone. Car doors banged shut and wheels shrieked.
    Wild with fear, he roared, “Sarah!”
    There was no answer. The rain was unrelenting, pummeling his face, filling his ears as he struggled to get up. Falling back, he choked and coughed and grew icy cold. He pictured Sarah in his mind, went over each detail of her face, heard her melodic voice, felt her lips brush his cheek. Aching for her, terrified about what they would do to her, he felt weakness sweep over him, then darkness.

Two
    Santa Barbara, California
    Liz stopped on the lawn outside the psychology building to stretch. As she pulled one ankle and then the other behind and balanced freestanding, she admired the July sky and savored the soft ocean air against her skin. The temperature had been hovering in the low seventies, perfect, while the Weather Channel reported an oxygen-sucking heat wave blanketing New York and Washington. Moving to the West Coast had been one of her smarter decisions.
    Her life was far different from that dark time when she had discovered her parents were assassins. She figured she was as happy now as she would ever be, and she had Grey Mellencamp to thank, because he had been right all those years ago. It was a pity he had died so soon after delivering his fatherly advice. She would have liked to tell him how much he had helped her.
    As soon