The Graves of Saints Read Online Free PDF

what it came to.
    Annabel shouted again, and one of the males roared something, still in pursuit and still, no doubt, holding onto their hats and looking foolish. Charlotte couldn’t believe they
hadn’t given up the chase.
    The gunshots came from nowhere, echoing off the buildings. Charlotte flinched with each pop and stared at the guards, who were all just now drawing their weapons, ready to defend the Registry
entrance. So where the hell had shooting come from?
    She spun, even as more gunfire echoed along 46th Street, and saw bullets punching through Annabel and the male vamp still with her. They both staggered and the male went down on his knees. The
sun didn’t matter to them now; burning in daylight was just another form of shapeshifting. It wouldn’t be able to kill them.
    ‘Down!’ a voice called from high above, like God himself finally making an appearance. ‘Get on the ground!’
    Charlotte obeyed, hands behind her head like she’d seen on so many cop shows on TV. On her knees, she glanced frantically around. Traffic had stopped flowing; some kind of blockade in the
street, a metal barrier like the one in front of the garage. She looked up toward where the voice had come from, and saw that the bullets had come from there as well. Bullets loaded with Medusa.
Windows had slid open in the façade of the building, three stories up, and snipers were leaning out with their weapons trained on Charlotte and her pursuers.
    ‘Don’t shoot!’ Charlotte called. ‘Please, help me! Peter Octavian –’
    With a clatter, metal plates opened in the sidewalk on both sides of the street. Shouting men and women in UN-emblazoned combat gear emerged, some with guns and others with flame-throwers.
Charlotte stared at them, terror racing through her like the deadliest poison.
    ‘No, please!’ she shouted, but then she saw that they weren’t focused on her.
    She twisted around and watched as the male tried to flee, staggering to his feet. He made it half a dozen steps before the flame-throwers burned him down, so that he collapsed in a screaming
ball of fire. Annabel lunged at one of them, trying to murder her way onto a path to freedom, and the flame-throwers roared. When Annabel’s hair went up in a cloud of fire, Charlotte looked
away . . .
    Into the barrels of half a dozen guns and two flame-throwers.
    A terrible sorrow clutched her heart. She looked into the eyes of the nearest soldier.
    ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I just wanted to sign the Covenant.’
    One of the soldiers, an Asian man with grim features, took a step nearer. ‘On your feet, Miss McManus.’
    Charlotte stared at him. He knew her name.
    ‘Come on,’ he said, lowering his weapon and reaching for her arm to help her rise. ‘Up.’
    Confused, she staggered to her feet. ‘How . . . ?’ she asked.
    The soldier glanced at one of the others, an African woman she took to be his superior officer. The officer nodded and the soldier looked at Charlotte, dead serious.
    ‘Mr Octavian told us to expect you.’
    The officer laughed softly, then spoke in a heavy accent.
    ‘He didn’t tell us you would be bringing friends.’
    With that, they marched her through the front doors under heavy guard. But they didn’t burn her to death in the street, so Charlotte decided to count that as a win.
    Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
    Dark thoughts were nesting in Octavian’s brain. He sat in the back of the cab, silently urging it forward and feeling powerless in the face of his frustration. His hands
were fisted in his lap, a warm static energy bristling around them. The turmoil of his emotions had stirred up the magic in him so much that it was all he could do to rein it in. There were things
he could have done to speed the taxi along its route from the Philadelphia International Airport to the hotel where Nikki was staying, hex magic that would have affected the flow of traffic or
spells to compel the driver to ignore the law, common sense, and safety