Unshapely Things Read Online Free PDF Page A

though, you can't stop that adrenaline rush that comes from stepping into blind situations. A faint prickling sensation ran over my face as I called up a weak body shield. At one time, the shield was amazingly tough. It wasn't much now, mostly my head and just patches on the chest and arms, and it would never stop a bullet. If someone threw something at me, like a fist or a brick, the force of the blow would be slightly blunted. It worked more for comfort than usefulness these days.
    Sunlight penetrated just past the threshold, showing a debris-strewn hallway trailing off into black. The odor of mildew hung in the air. A door slammed not far off and a blazing high-voltage light snapped on in our faces. Instinctively, I dove for the floor.
    Murdock looked down at me and burst out laughing. "What the hell are you doing?" he said.
    "Who is it?" a voice demanded.
    Murdock turned away from me and held his hand up to protect his eyes. "Turn off the damned light, Robin!" The light went out to be replaced by a dimmer bare bulb in the ceiling. Murdock shook his head.
    I stood up, brushing dirt off my coat. "You could have warned me," I said.
    He just kept chuckling as he led the way down the hall to a door at the end. When we reached it, it opened slightly, then all the way. A tall thin boy clothed in jeans and a white T-shirt faced us, long, blond hair framing a strikingly handsome face. His eyes were wary as he backed away, and we stepped into the room. Another boy stood in the corner, his face incredibly feminine, with just the hint of applied color on his eyes. He wore a long shift in light blue with a matching piece of fabric tied around his dark hair. Most of the room was taken up by two narrow beds, the walls decorated with old posters, hanging fabric, and some standard household good luck charms. The far wall was partially covered by a thick maroon velvet curtain, behind which neatly arranged clothes could be seen on shelves and hooks.
    Murdock lifted his chin at the blond. "This is Robin, and that's Shay," he said. I just nodded as Murdock sat down in the only chair. He leaned back and smiled at the kid in the corner. "How's it going, Shay? Still doing the Snow White gig ?"
    Shay crossed his arms and frowned. "No. The damned dwarves quit. They said their cut wasn't enough." He rolled his eyes. "Like standing around watching takes effort."
    Murdock shrugged. "Too bad. I heard you were making quite a name for yourself."
    Shay draped himself on the nearest bed. "Who is this, Detective Murdock?"
    "A friend. You can call him Connor."
    Robin arched an eyebrow, a small cocky smile twitching at one corner of his mouth. I was tempted to slap him. "The Connor, as in Connor Grey? I thought no one ever met you."
    "Consider yourself met," I said. I stared right back at him, but he held my gaze. I was impressed.
    Shay walked toward me with an exaggerated languidness. "I've seen your picture in the paper. You're much more handsome in person. I don't usually go for tall, dark-haired types, but you have very pretty eyes. Aqua."
    "They're just blue, thanks," I said. The kid was a hoot.
    He smiled and strolled back to the other side of the room. "You were at the murder," he said. Robin shot him an annoyed look.
    "So were you," said Murdock.
    Robin moved closer to Shay's bed. "A lot of people were there," he said.
    "Yeah, but a lot of people were not at two murder scenes," Murdock said. The two of them looked studiously at their hands. "You want to explain that?" Murdock prompted.
    Shay busied his hands with the chenille on the bedspread.
    "You know they happened right near here. We were on our way home," said Robin. He nervously ran his fingers through those long blond strands. His expression stayed suspicious though.
    "Bad luck," Shay whispered. He darted his eyes at me, then away to examine a poster on the wall, an old Deco print of a ship coming into port. Stylish optimism. " 'Turning and turning in the widening gyre.' Isn't that the way of