The Tramp (The Bound Chronicles #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Florida. A team of scientists and anglers explore the waters of the world’s largest hammerheads to see if these stories could be true…”
    Shark Week.
    And soft snoring.
    Her sneakered feet padded through the patio door, the furthest exit from the den on the ground floor. She didn’t risk getting her bike. It was in the garage and the wheels on the garage door were so rusty that screeching was inevitable.
    Not worth the noise.
    Candy lived on the ridge above The Palace, and though it was a steep climb down in places to get there, those woods had been her extended front yard since she learned to walk. She could reach The Palace from her house or Dad’s shop in twenty minutes flat. Sam had to ride his mountain bike through the winding dirt trails around the face of the mountain. Sometimes she worried he might take a nasty tumble in the dark, less familiar with the terrain than she was, but Sam always seemed sure of himself. He said the views of the valley below were worth the ride. He was worth the hike, for her, though she was careful never to reveal that.
    Her heart raced anytime she thought of him, it was both terrifying and thrilling to feel so out of control, even a stray thought of Sam made her burn from ears to toes. She had to remind herself to slow down, lest she arrive too early and have to wait around in The Palace by herself. Over the summer, Candy had begun to feel a weird sense of foreboding when she went there alone. Nothing she could identify, just a vague feeling of apprehension. She didn’t know why.
    She thought it was stupid, but repressed a shiver anyway.
    She felt the weight of the night as she padded through the underbrush. The summer air was hot and thick and it felt heavier in the dark. She looked up and saw the moon was waxing, but not nearly full enough to explain the electricity in her palms. She tried to clear her head with the sense of the forest around her—the sharp tang of pine, the rich death in the loam under her feet, the smell of rain near—.
    “Hoo-hoo. Ooooooooo…..”
    Candy jerked upright and loosed an avalanche of leaves over her head. The owl voiced more recriminations before taking flight. “Thanks a lot.” She laughed at herself, her heart in her throat.
    Why did owls sound so human? She could hear her mother talking in its call: “Oooo, oooo. Where do you think you’re going, little one?”
    If she had a mother.
    She was getting close to the edge of the big bluff. Zebadiah’s Bluff. She could smell sulfur in the Blue Spring and recognized the clot of lauryl bushes before the drop-off. Way before the cliff, she turned north. The path down to The Palace on that side was longer and more treacherous but she’d avoid that creepy cold spring at any cost. When she’d finally descended into the glen—grabbing branches in a slip or stumble more times than she was proud to admit—she squinted her eyes and noticed she could see light in the direction of the water.
    Is it glowing?
    She felt repulsed, but had to see, and strained towards it.
    Is someone over there?
    She stepped over a log and crept through fallen leaves, as gingerly as she could, clearing branches out of her line of vision. It felt like there was something happening over there—
    “Thanks for coming.”
    “Jesus!” Candy sprang into the air like a startled bobcat. Panting, she clutched her chest to make sure her heart hadn’t exploded.
    A throaty chuckle sounded from the shadows, “Wow.”
    “Sam,” she breathed. “You devil.”
    His teeth glinted in the darkness.
    “So, you wanted to get some late-night painting done?” she asked, her voice not her own. Her heart was still thudding, threatening to jump into her throat. He moved closer without a word. And that didn’t help her pulse. She took a step back.
    “Something like that.” He took a step closer. Sweat and fresh air, cigarettes and Dial soap underneath—Sam’s smell. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day.”
    “You