The Red Heart of Jade Read Online Free PDF

are the rules of the game. Live first, ask questions later.
    Dean tried to keep his thoughts black, to go Yoda and push away the fear, the confusion, but the murderer smiled and that was almost enough to stop Dean in his tracks and contemplate jumping off the side of the building. Sharp teeth poked over his thick bottom lip, sharp and long and white, and though his eyes glowed brighter, Dean imagined the light was cut with black, a ghost darkness, bleeding and bleeding like ink against his eye. Dean’s gun grew hot. The man’s smile widened, stretching his mouth wide, stretching and stretching, until the sides of his face bulged with some horrific grimace.
    Fuck this . Dean raised his weapon and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Just clicks. Quiet, deadly, clicks. The metal burned his skin, and though he tried to hold the gun, it seared and reflex took over. He let go. Watched the weapon clatter to the ground. Thought, I’m so dead .
    “Dead and gone,” said the man softly, speaking for the first time. His voice was thick with teeth, surprisingly gentle. “Ash. Quickened flesh. You should have left me alone. Please. You should have let me be.”
    “Stop,” Koni said. “As a brother—”
    “Your brotherhood means nothing to me. “ Golden light spilled over the man’s eyes, gold running into darkness down his skin... and in its path, an even brighter whiteness, ridged and hard and gleaming like mother-of-pearl. Scales. Scales were pouring from his fat belly button and pushing outward across his gelatinous body while that hard-lined forehead receded and the meaty jaw jutted far and farther, until Dean felt like Conan the Barbarian in the temple of the Snake King, watching James Earl Jones go cobra de capello on his ass, and it was bad—real bad—worse than the creepiest creep-show horror of his childhood nightmares. He could not believe this was happening. He smelled smoke and his skin felt hot, like he was beginning to glow and glow, and he thought of his dream, the fire, and he felt paralyzed with the memory—the first time in his life, unable to move, to think, except to remember what it felt like to burn—
    And then Koni was there in front of him, shoving hard, and before he knew it they were both falling backward through the door behind them, tumbling down the stairs. Dean hit the landing hard, but had no time to recover; Koni grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him down another flight. He could not get his feet under him; his ass got a beating and the air was knocked out of his lungs, along with bits and pieces of skin and maybe some rattled portions of his brain. He held his guns loosely, fingers off the triggers.
    “Stop,” he croaked.
    “No fucking way,” Koni said, still dragging him. “I’m not going to end up a crispy crow.”
    “We need to stop him.”
    “Then we need another plan. I’m no kamikaze runner.”
    Dean struggled to his feet and leaned against the wall. He gazed up through the stairwell, peering through the narrow space between the railing to the roof. He did not hear anyone coming after them, and glanced at Koni, whose eyes were pinpoints of wild light.
    “He’s not following,” Koni said.
    “There’s not another way off that roof,” Dean replied, but Koni gave him such a hard look that he felt obligated to once again revise everything he thought he knew about this case.
    “Don’t say it,” Dean said. “For God’s sake, man. My brain is going to explode.”
    Koni shut his eyes. “He’s a dragon, Dean. That means he can fly.”
    Dean, still holding his gun, pressed the edge of his palm against his forehead. His brain felt like it was leaking through his eyes.
    “A dragon,” he muttered. “Fuck. Do you know him?”
    “I have a friend in California named Susie. You know her?”
    “Don’t give me that. You guys are supposed to be almost extinct.”
    “Which means we don’t exactly get around to throwing block parties for each other,” Koni snapped.