Read Online Bride of Death (Marla Mason) by T.A. Pratt - Free Book Online Page B

wouldn’t be staggered for long. I slid out of the booth, the plate in my hand, and took a few quick steps toward him. His eyes finally focused on me, but before he could bring the knife up, I smashed him across the face with my plate, getting scrambled eggs in his eyes. Too bad for him I like my eggs with lots of hot sauce.
    He screamed and fell backwards, and when I saw my chance, I stomped on his wrist. I hadn’t had the chance to work any nasty inertial charms into the boots yet, but a heel with all my weight on top of it was sufficient to make his hand fall open, releasing the knife. I kicked the blade away, knelt down, flipped him over on his belly, and jerked his hands up behind his back. I had zip ties in one of my coat pockets – among other useful things – so I bound his wrists, then grabbed the tie and used it as a handle to drag him across the floor. I don’t think I dislocated his shoulders, but he hollered like I did. I left him in the entryway, shoved off to one side by the bubble gum machine and not blocking the door, on account of fire safety, and also because I knew I’d better be leaving soon.
    Gary groaned, and I didn’t even kick him, because I’m trying to Do Better.
    I stood up, and the whole diner was staring at me. The cook, an old fat guy, had finally emerged, and was pressing a wad of paper towels against the trucker’s bleeding bicep. Arlene’s mouth hung open, and the other diners were all on their feet. One of the truckers clapped, and someone else cheered.
    The only person not looking at me was the little boy, and his behavior went unnoticed by his parents, since they were focused on my selfless act of violence. He was crouched by my booth, lifting up the edge of the cover over Nicolette’s bird cage. His eyes were wide, and he was nodding, as if agreeing with someone.
    “I’d better be going,” I said, and shoved through the crowd, which parted for me the way they usually do for someone whose shown a capacity for mayhem, only with more of an air of gratitude. The boy let the cover drop and backed away hurriedly, trying to look innocent and failing. I started to pick up the birdcage, then swore and reached into my pocket for some money.
    “Honey, your meal is on the house,” Arlene said.
    “I should really be going.” I said.
    She chewed her lip. “The police will want to –”
    “I’m not a big fan of the police.”
    Arlene nodded like she understood. “Which way are you headed?”
I hesitated. “South.”
    “Is that true, or what you want us to tell the cops?”
    “It’s true.”
    “Then if anybody asks me I’ll say you headed north.”
    Despite myself, I smiled. “That’d be fine. Thanks, Arlene.”
    “Honey, thank you . Gary Singer’s always had a mean streak, but he’s never been mean and armed before.”
    “Yeah. People change.” I picked up the bird cage.
    “Now tell me the truth,” Arlene said. “ Is there a bird in that?”
    “No,” the little boy said.
    “Squawk,” Nicolette said, sounding pleased with herself.
    I got out and got on my bike and got clear.

SMALL ROOMS
    I came out of the motel bathroom, drying my hair. Like I said, I’d gotten a real taste for showers since dragging myself up out of the dirt. Plus beating up guys in diners makes you sweaty. Nicolette’s uncovered cage rested on a little desk in the corner, where she was watching some horrible reality show.
    I picked up the remote and turned off the TV, to her annoyance.
    “What did you say to that little kid?” I asked.
    “What little kid?”
    “In the diner. I saw him talking to you.”
    “What can I say? I’m approachable. People love me.”
    I growled. “Unless you want to spend the night outside strapped to the motorcycle –”
    “Oh, fine. I just told him that if he ate the heart of a parrot and drank the blood of a sea turtle he’d live more than a hundred years.”
    “You’re sick.” That explained the glimpse I’d had of the boy wreathed in magic, though