Read Online Dead of Night (Ghosts & Magic #1) by M.R. Forbes - Free Book Online
Authors: M.R. Forbes
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the Loop and made my way to I-90 while she searched for a good rate.
"How about the Best Western?"
"Free continental breakfast?"
"And free wi-fi."
"Jackpot."
By the time we pulled into the parking lot a little bit later, Dannie had already managed to score me an executive coach seat on a four o'clock flight to Connecticut. She'd also arranged for me to pick up a car there.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," I said, as I opened the passenger side and helped her with her chair. In truth, I did know, but it was a ritual we'd started whenever she would help me arrange a job.
She smiled and put her hand on my cheek. "You'd be dead. In a ditch. Or maybe an alley." She released my face and vaulted from the van to the chair with practiced ease.
Her answer wasn't too far from the truth. After all, she'd found me half-dead in a gutter.
"Can I help you?" Our rep's name was Jonathan. He was a heavyset man with a goatee and a light wisp of brown hair. When he looked at me, it was with an odd mix of fascination and disgust. I thought it was ironic, considering that he was killing himself on purpose.
"I made a reservation online," Danelle said, getting his attention. "Daaé."
He ran his fingers along the touchscreen, doing some turns and taps. "Credit card?"
She reached into the lip of her bra and grabbed her plastic, resting it on her index finger and thumb. She flicked it up, flipping it so that it twirled end over end and landed cleanly on the desk.
"Wow, nice." Jonathan picked up the card.
"You've been practicing," I said.
"A little."
Jonathan swiped it, did some more random tapping, and then prepped a couple of room keys for us. "Room 207. The elevator is right around the corner. Go up, follow the signs." He handed me the card-keys and the credit card, and looked over at Danelle. "Are you sure you don't-"
"She's sure," I said, cutting him off. It was obvious to anyone that Dannie had no legs, but that didn't mean she liked being treated that way. A handicap room would have been easier to manage, but she wasn't interested in easy. She wanted to live her life the way she had before, in every way she could.
I could understand that, even if I couldn't do the same.
"Okay. Enjoy your stay."
I nodded my thanks, collected our luggage, and followed Dannie to the elevators.
"You've only got three hours before your flight," she said while she rolled on board for the short ride up.
"I thought I'd go over the kinetics a few more times. I need to synchronize."
"That's a good idea."
We found our room and made our way inside. It was a standard three-star hotel room, with a queen bed, a writing desk, an armoire with a flat-screen, coffeemaker - the usual. It hadn't been renovated in a while.
"Home sweet home. You better make it back. I don't think I can stand being stuck in this place for more than a few days. The colors are awful."
"Do you say that about me?" I wore black ninety percent of the time. I wore gray the other ten. Colorful threads didn't look good on me. They tended to accentuate the pallor. "You know, if I die, you still get to keep the money."
"Only if I can convince the kill team that I had nothing to do with it. What do you think the odds are that they'll even give me the chance?"
"I already feel guilty."
She rolled over to her luggage, lifting and heaving it onto the end of the bed. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. This is death or death for you, I get that, and I hitched my wagon to yours a long time ago. We're in the shit together."
She unzipped her bag and pushed past the clothes to where the laptop was resting. She pulled it out and wheeled it over to the desk. I didn't try to move the chair out of the way for her. I knew she'd take care of it. It wasn't that she'd never accept help, but only if she knew you would have done it even if she were still fully operational.
Her upper body was strong, and she lifted the desk chair in one arm and spun about in a tight
"How about the Best Western?"
"Free continental breakfast?"
"And free wi-fi."
"Jackpot."
By the time we pulled into the parking lot a little bit later, Dannie had already managed to score me an executive coach seat on a four o'clock flight to Connecticut. She'd also arranged for me to pick up a car there.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," I said, as I opened the passenger side and helped her with her chair. In truth, I did know, but it was a ritual we'd started whenever she would help me arrange a job.
She smiled and put her hand on my cheek. "You'd be dead. In a ditch. Or maybe an alley." She released my face and vaulted from the van to the chair with practiced ease.
Her answer wasn't too far from the truth. After all, she'd found me half-dead in a gutter.
"Can I help you?" Our rep's name was Jonathan. He was a heavyset man with a goatee and a light wisp of brown hair. When he looked at me, it was with an odd mix of fascination and disgust. I thought it was ironic, considering that he was killing himself on purpose.
"I made a reservation online," Danelle said, getting his attention. "Daaé."
He ran his fingers along the touchscreen, doing some turns and taps. "Credit card?"
She reached into the lip of her bra and grabbed her plastic, resting it on her index finger and thumb. She flicked it up, flipping it so that it twirled end over end and landed cleanly on the desk.
"Wow, nice." Jonathan picked up the card.
"You've been practicing," I said.
"A little."
Jonathan swiped it, did some more random tapping, and then prepped a couple of room keys for us. "Room 207. The elevator is right around the corner. Go up, follow the signs." He handed me the card-keys and the credit card, and looked over at Danelle. "Are you sure you don't-"
"She's sure," I said, cutting him off. It was obvious to anyone that Dannie had no legs, but that didn't mean she liked being treated that way. A handicap room would have been easier to manage, but she wasn't interested in easy. She wanted to live her life the way she had before, in every way she could.
I could understand that, even if I couldn't do the same.
"Okay. Enjoy your stay."
I nodded my thanks, collected our luggage, and followed Dannie to the elevators.
"You've only got three hours before your flight," she said while she rolled on board for the short ride up.
"I thought I'd go over the kinetics a few more times. I need to synchronize."
"That's a good idea."
We found our room and made our way inside. It was a standard three-star hotel room, with a queen bed, a writing desk, an armoire with a flat-screen, coffeemaker - the usual. It hadn't been renovated in a while.
"Home sweet home. You better make it back. I don't think I can stand being stuck in this place for more than a few days. The colors are awful."
"Do you say that about me?" I wore black ninety percent of the time. I wore gray the other ten. Colorful threads didn't look good on me. They tended to accentuate the pallor. "You know, if I die, you still get to keep the money."
"Only if I can convince the kill team that I had nothing to do with it. What do you think the odds are that they'll even give me the chance?"
"I already feel guilty."
She rolled over to her luggage, lifting and heaving it onto the end of the bed. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. This is death or death for you, I get that, and I hitched my wagon to yours a long time ago. We're in the shit together."
She unzipped her bag and pushed past the clothes to where the laptop was resting. She pulled it out and wheeled it over to the desk. I didn't try to move the chair out of the way for her. I knew she'd take care of it. It wasn't that she'd never accept help, but only if she knew you would have done it even if she were still fully operational.
Her upper body was strong, and she lifted the desk chair in one arm and spun about in a tight
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