Read Online Another One Bites the Dust by Jennifer Rardin - Free Book Online

the shoulders of her teal-blue knit blouse. Her black peasant skirt touched her ankles and she wore matching black pumps edged with blue ribbon. Bergman’s gray sweater with its stretched sleeves topped old blue jeans and the same snow boots he’d worn when they’d picked me up at Evie’s house. Cole wore his red high-tops, khakis, and a black T-shirt with a pile of lumber on it. The caption underneath readHEY LADY, NEED A STUD ?

    “What is it, Vayl?” I asked.

    “What just happened was not mere sleepwalking. Your finger was pressed against the trigger of a cocked crossbow. We cannot simply disregard this problem and hope it goes away.”

    So, okay, I did want to say, We can so ignore this! But I knew he was right. What if I’d come awake with that gun pointed at Cassandra’s head? Or one of the guys’? I nodded. “What do you suggest?”

    That’s where speech failed him. Cassandra waited a moment, and when it was clear he didn’t have an immediate plan, she stepped up. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

    “Okay, when this mission is over—”

    “Actually, he lives in New Mexico. He could probably meet you tomorrow.”

    “Is he a doctor?”

    “Of a sort.”

    Alternative medicine. Okay, I can deal with that. “Fine, set it up.”

    “And . . .” Cole began.

    I swallowed the urge to snap. They just wanted to help. It wasn’t their fault the idea of getting to the root of this bizarre behavior terrified me. In my point of view, any explanation of what causes a person to point a gun to her own head is not going to start with “Good news, Jaz—” But considering the current potential for a bolt to my brain, pretending it never happened wasn’t the smartest tactic I could choose. “Yes?”

    “Until we’re sure how to deal with this, someone should guard you while you sleep.”

    “Naturally. You can all draw straws or something. And stop with the war orphan faces, will you? I’ll deal.”

    “Of course you will,” said Bergman. “You’re Jaz.”

    I nodded, appreciating his vote of confidence. Unlike Bergman, however, I knew my limits. Sometimes I could see that line in my mind, a stark black wall at the horizon reminding me that sanity, unlike the earth, is flat. And there is a point at which you can fall off. I just hoped this dream didn’t mean I already stood on the wrong side of the gate.

    CHAPTEREIGHT

    Evie had bought me the outfit I changed into after my shower, a white scoop-neck peasant top with lace and crochet accents and a pair of jeans somebody had beaten soundly with a jackhammer before forwarding to the retailer. So I knew I looked good. My girl’s got an eye for these things. Plus—übercomfy. And not just because she knows my size. There’s something about stuff from your family. For instance, when I’m home, I sleep under a comforter Granny May made for me. Ugliest damn blanket I have ever seen. But it makes me feel better to snuggle under fabric and thread she put together to warm me. Evie’s outfit, Granny’s blanket—they’re part of the basic core of my life that assures me I matter.

    For the same reasons, Bergman handpicked where his inventions traveled and who put them to bed at night. And the more I learned about the freak who’d stolen his baby, the less I blamed Miles for totally losing it when he’d found out the baby had been kidnapped. Because after spending Vayl’s shower time with my face in my laptop, reading the file some intrepid agent had gathered on this guy Chien-Lung, I had come to a single conclusion. The guy was a total whack-job.

    Frankly it made me feel better about my own peculiarities. But there was a method to Lung’s madness. For instance, dragons are deeply revered by the Chinese. According to legend they have megapowers that include weather control and life creation. And they’re seen as kind, benevolent creatures. Funny. Every fairy tale I’d ever heard involving dragons starred daring knights trotting off