This Wicked Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

regulars.”
    He rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. “Think you should give it to the Guild?”
    She chewed her bottom lip. By the Guild, what he really meant was Estelle and Bernard Toussaint—his parents.
    “I thought I might check it out first. You know, see if it’s really her address?”
    She held her breath, preparing herself for the argument Xander would give her. Instead, he opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again.
    “Want some company?”



FOUR
    T hey took Xander’s car from Claire’s house in the University District all the way into the Quarter.
    Xander turned onto one of the quieter streets that surrounded Washington Park. They had agreed it was best not to park right in front of the woman’s house, and Xander pulled to a stop next to the curb on another small side street.
    He turned to look at her. “Ready?”
    She nodded and they got out of the car, looking up at the street signs as they went.
    “I think it’s up there,” Xander said, pointing to the corner as they passed the park.
    Despite the secrecy of their mission, Xander held her hand, staying on the outside of the sidewalk and generally doing everything possible to make Claire feel like a fragile female in need of protection. Asking him to stop wasn’t an option. Xander’s chivalry was bred as deeply in him as his belief in voodoo.
    They stopped to check the address of the house on the corner against the receipt and did the same with the one across the street before deciding to take a right.
    The houses were small and quaint, alternating between cute and slightly run-down. They saw a couple of “For Rent” signs as they continued down the street, the shade from the great oaks on either side providing welcome relief from the heat.
    Claire made note of the house numbers as they walked. They were halfway down the block when she stopped.
    “Wait . . .” She looked back at the iron gates they’d just passed. “I think that’s it.”
    Xander tensed, scanning the gate for a house number and turning to Claire when he didn’t find one. “How do you know?”
    “Because the house back there is 546 and that one”— she pointed to the house on their left— “is 550. This one has to be 548, even though it’s not marked.”
    “Okay,” he agreed. “Now what? There’s a courtyard.”
    Claire considered. The courtyards that fronted some of the city’s homes made it impossible to get close without being spotted by someone inside the house.
    “I don’t know,” she said. “Let’s just wait. See if anyone comes or goes.”
    Xander sighed. “This is crazy. Even if we see the woman who came into the store yesterday, what will it prove? That she lives in New Orleans? She hasn’t exactly made that a secret.”
    “I know, but—” Claire stopped, hearing the sound of heels on pavement. She pulled Xander behind the foliage of a large camellia bush.
    They stood, bodies pressed together, trying to get a view of the sidewalk as the sound of footsteps grew louder. A few seconds later, the woman named Eugenia came into view. Her legs were long and slender in a black pencil skirt, a billowy white blouse over the top of it.
    And she wasn’t alone.
    A man walked by her side. His head was bowed, silver hair glinting at his temples. He wore trousers and a snug button-down. A fraying rope bracelet was wound around his wrist, incongruous against the well-groomed backdrop of his clothing.
    Claire sucked in her breath, a surge of energy pulsing through her skin at the sight of him. She shivered, the back of her neck growing slick with cold sweat, the blood running faster through her veins as panic set in.
    Every instinct in her body screamed danger.
    They watched as the pair stepped through the gate. It closed with a clang, and the footsteps suddenly stopped. The woman murmured, and Claire caught the sound of another voice, deeper and louder.
    Xander glanced at her. She held a finger to her lips,