Read Online Bitter Night by Diana Pharaoh Francis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diana Pharaoh Francis
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fantasy, Fantasy - Contemporary, Contemporary, Magic, Witches, Occult fiction, supernatural, Science Fiction And Fantasy, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Good and Evil, Soldiers
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didn’t hunt down helpless people and turn them into sacrifices so that some witch-bitch could generate a few more watts of magic.
She thought of Alexander. Did he?
“Go eat,” Giselle said. “Stock up. Selange is going to issue a challenge’she likes unarmed combat to the death. Are you ready?”
Max shrugged, her grin pure malice. “If I win, I win; if I don’t, I’m dead and you lose your favorite chew toy. Either way, I can’t lose.”
Giselle’s mouth tightened and Max couldn’t tell if she was biting back a smile or grimace. “Some might say dying is a loss. Your uniform for tonight is in your bunk. We leave as soon as it’s dark enough.”
MAX WANTED A SHOWER, BUT FOOD WAS MORE IMPORtant. The spells that made her a Shadowblade would start feeding on her body if she wasn’t careful. The powerbars in the Tahoe had helped to replace what the Hag had taken from her, but she needed to calorie load and quick.
The Garbage Pit was putting off a mouthwatering mosh of smells. Max went around to the back of the semi where a set of stairs led up into the interior of the trailer. At the cab end was the kitchen, and lining the walls on either side were stainless-steel tables bolted to the walls and chairs bolted to the tables. The floor was matching stainless steel, as was most of the kitchen. Low, haunting music played through the speakers. Except for Magpie, the cook, no one else was there.
Magpie glanced up, her eyes a shade or two darker than Max’s, with two streaks of pearly white interrupting the blue-black ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. She was a witch of the outer circle, which meant she had some power, but not a lot, and not nearly enough to hold her own coven. She was also a damned good cook, and that’s all Max needed to know.
“Sit,” Magpie ordered, walking over to her with a jug of milk and an empty glass. “What are you hungry for?”
“Whatever you’ve got. You know what I like.”
Magpie nodded and gave a half smile. Her teeth were white against her tanned skin. “I’ve got a couple of pans of enchiladas on the warmer. You can start with those.”
“Sounds good.” Max’s stomach growled and she laughed. “Better hurry.”
Magpie patted her shoulder and hurried back into the kitchen. Max drank a couple of glasses of milk in quick succession, then turned the glass between her fingers broodingly. She wanted to touch the hailstone, but didn’t want to call attention to it.
Footsteps on the stairs made her twist around. The first person into the Garbage Pit was Oz. He stood about six foot three with sandy brown hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders that looked like they could hold up a tank, and about a dozen dimples. He didn’t look like a Sunspear Prime, but just as with Alexander, power surrounded him like a cloud of hot lightning, and hiding behind those smiling eyes was an unrelenting violence. He was scary. When he walked into a room, anyone with sense started thinking about finding the exits.
Behind him came Niko, Max’s second-in-command. He was about the same height as Max and looked to be as broad as he was tall’all of it was muscle. His eyes, like his fists, were stone. He always wore the latest New York fashion, which made him the object of much teasing among his fellow Shadowblades, all of which he took with good-natured humor. Still, Max knew she could count on him to have her back, no matter how bad things got. He didn’t know how to back down or back off, and he could inflict more damage than a platoon of marines.
After him trailed Akemi. She was Chinese, with a broad forehead and rounded chin. She was the only Shadowblade in Max’s crew who was actually shorter than her. More than a few idiots had mistaken her size for weakness. She’d set them straight’and dead. No one handled knives better than she did. She was also clearheaded, smart, and careful. Max had never seen her lose her cool. She smiled fleetingly as she entered, her
She thought of Alexander. Did he?
“Go eat,” Giselle said. “Stock up. Selange is going to issue a challenge’she likes unarmed combat to the death. Are you ready?”
Max shrugged, her grin pure malice. “If I win, I win; if I don’t, I’m dead and you lose your favorite chew toy. Either way, I can’t lose.”
Giselle’s mouth tightened and Max couldn’t tell if she was biting back a smile or grimace. “Some might say dying is a loss. Your uniform for tonight is in your bunk. We leave as soon as it’s dark enough.”
MAX WANTED A SHOWER, BUT FOOD WAS MORE IMPORtant. The spells that made her a Shadowblade would start feeding on her body if she wasn’t careful. The powerbars in the Tahoe had helped to replace what the Hag had taken from her, but she needed to calorie load and quick.
The Garbage Pit was putting off a mouthwatering mosh of smells. Max went around to the back of the semi where a set of stairs led up into the interior of the trailer. At the cab end was the kitchen, and lining the walls on either side were stainless-steel tables bolted to the walls and chairs bolted to the tables. The floor was matching stainless steel, as was most of the kitchen. Low, haunting music played through the speakers. Except for Magpie, the cook, no one else was there.
Magpie glanced up, her eyes a shade or two darker than Max’s, with two streaks of pearly white interrupting the blue-black ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. She was a witch of the outer circle, which meant she had some power, but not a lot, and not nearly enough to hold her own coven. She was also a damned good cook, and that’s all Max needed to know.
“Sit,” Magpie ordered, walking over to her with a jug of milk and an empty glass. “What are you hungry for?”
“Whatever you’ve got. You know what I like.”
Magpie nodded and gave a half smile. Her teeth were white against her tanned skin. “I’ve got a couple of pans of enchiladas on the warmer. You can start with those.”
“Sounds good.” Max’s stomach growled and she laughed. “Better hurry.”
Magpie patted her shoulder and hurried back into the kitchen. Max drank a couple of glasses of milk in quick succession, then turned the glass between her fingers broodingly. She wanted to touch the hailstone, but didn’t want to call attention to it.
Footsteps on the stairs made her twist around. The first person into the Garbage Pit was Oz. He stood about six foot three with sandy brown hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders that looked like they could hold up a tank, and about a dozen dimples. He didn’t look like a Sunspear Prime, but just as with Alexander, power surrounded him like a cloud of hot lightning, and hiding behind those smiling eyes was an unrelenting violence. He was scary. When he walked into a room, anyone with sense started thinking about finding the exits.
Behind him came Niko, Max’s second-in-command. He was about the same height as Max and looked to be as broad as he was tall’all of it was muscle. His eyes, like his fists, were stone. He always wore the latest New York fashion, which made him the object of much teasing among his fellow Shadowblades, all of which he took with good-natured humor. Still, Max knew she could count on him to have her back, no matter how bad things got. He didn’t know how to back down or back off, and he could inflict more damage than a platoon of marines.
After him trailed Akemi. She was Chinese, with a broad forehead and rounded chin. She was the only Shadowblade in Max’s crew who was actually shorter than her. More than a few idiots had mistaken her size for weakness. She’d set them straight’and dead. No one handled knives better than she did. She was also clearheaded, smart, and careful. Max had never seen her lose her cool. She smiled fleetingly as she entered, her
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