Traitor's Son: The Raven Duet Book #2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

glad to.”
    Laughter stole into those big eyes, and Jase felt his face heat. So much for suave. But she was so . . .
cute
didn’t begin to describe it.
    “So, um, you’re new here? You’re coming in pretty late in the year.”
    He turned down the hall toward the cafeteria, and then realized that if he’d gone the other way, taken a longer route, he could have prolonged this conversation. Not that his conversation was so brilliant.
    “It took some time to find your school.” That impish smile flashed again. “But I’m hoping I won’t need to be here long.”
    “You move around a lot?” Damn. Jase had been hoping to spend the next two years watching her walk down halls. He tried to think of something less sexist to say. “Is it your mother or your father who’s the traveler?”
    “Not exactly.” Jase must have looked as confused as he felt because she added, “I’m trying not to lie to you. I’m trying not to repeat a lot of mistakes, which probably means I’m going to make new ones. I’m Raven, by the way.”
    That kicked Jase’s mind back into function mode and his interest cooled. At least, on one level. “Boy, your parents must be serious culture geeks.”
    “Culture . . . oh. You think I’m looking for a nice Eagle boy?”
    “Aren’t you?” To this day, traditional Tlingit parents wanted their kids to marry someone from the proper, opposite moiety.
    Jase’s mother’s moiety was Irish, which he figured meant that he could marry anyone he wanted to.
    “Are you a nice Eagle boy?” Raven asked.
    “No.”
    “Then I’m not looking for one.” The smile was now so dazz- ling that if there’d been a wall in front of him Jase would have hit it. But they’d almost reached the cafeteria, and a different kind of wall loomed in the future. He might as well crash and get it over with.
    “I’m Jase Mintok,” he said, and waited for her expression to change.
    “Nice to meet you. Can you tell me what’s good for lunch in there?” Jase blinked. She hadn’t got it. Maybe her parents never talked about politics.
    “I’m Michael Mintok’s son.”
    She looked puzzled.
    “Three-sixteenths. I’m that kid.”
    Her puzzled expression was turning to concern. “I’m sorry, I can see this is important, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Jase stared. “You’re really not from around here, are you?”
    How could that be? Natives all over Alaska, Canada, and the lower forty-eight—even parts of Siberia—knew about
Mintok v. the Native Corp.
And she was clearly a Native, whatever else she was.
    “No.” Mystery replaced the mischief in her smile. “I’m not from around here.”
    She had to be yanking his leash. Someone had put her up to this. Someone particularly cruel.
    “Did someone put you up to this?”
    “No. It’s entirely my idea,” she said wryly.
    Angry comments trembled on his tongue, but Jase managed not to blurt them out. If she wasn’t setting him up, calling her a vicious bitch would be really stupid. But if she was setting him up . . .
    “Here’s the cafeteria.” He was turning away as he spoke. “Goodbye.”
    “Hey! Wait! I want to talk to you!”
    Jase kept walking.
    ***
    It had settled the dilemma, but neither Jase’s anger or his lust was satisfied with the result. Jase swiped his personal ID through the school’s scanner and walked four blocks to a sandwich shop for lunch. When it first opened, Murie Academy had its own IDs, but kids kept losing them, so they converted to a PID system. Not that kids didn’t lose those too, but the fine for replacing them included a DNA scan and was high enough that very few kids lost them twice.
    Jase didn’t see the girl all afternoon. He’d been so weird about everything that even if she had been interested she was probably avoiding him now. But even if she wasn’t setting him up, and really was as phenomenally ignorant of Alaska Native history, politics, and law as she seemed, sooner or later she’d