Read Online Elemental Assassin 02 - Web of Lies by Jennifer Estep - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Estep
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real damage.
Smack!
Smack! Smack!
Three more bullets slammed into the front of the restaurant.
I looked up, trying to judge where the shots were coming from, but the angle from the floor was all wrong.
I could see the storefront windows, but not who or what lay beyond them.
My eyes flicked to the projectiles. A large caliber, probably a fifty, from the looks of them. And whoever was shooting knew what he was doing. Despite their size, the bullets formed a small, circular cluster about the size of my fist. Kill shots, all of them.
The four metal missiles had cracked and caught in the storefront glass, which kept them from punching through into the Pork Pit itself. Still, the sharp, sudden impacts had ruined the windows. Macabre patterns ran out from the silver bullets, as though a swarm of spiders were stringing their delicate webs through the thick glass.
I shook one of my sleeves, and a knife slipped into my other hand, the hilt resting on the scar on my palm. I hoped the bastard got tired of shooting through the windows and decided to come inside and finish the job. He’d be in for a nasty surprise. One he wouldn’t recover from.
With every breath, I expected more bullets to slam into the windows. Or for the door to be yanked open and someone to storm inside. Jake McAllister, most likely, trying to make good on his threat to come back and kill me.
Instead—silence.
I counted off the seconds in my head. Ten…twenty… thirty… forty-five…
The girl shifted, trying to get out from underneath me. Or at least get her face up off the floor. I rolled off her so she could catch her breath, but I kept one hand on her back, holding her in place.
“Be still,” I snapped. “He could be waiting for us to get to our feet before he fires another shot.”
Violet nodded and lay on the floor, sucking in deep breaths through her open mouth.
After ninety seconds had passed without another gunshot, I rose to my knees and looked outside. The cracked glass distorted my vision, but I didn’t see anyone standing directly outside the restaurant, gun in hand. No parked cars idling at the curb. No one running down the sidewalk.
I stood up and examined the bullets. Fifty caliber all the way around, probably from a rifle. Not what I’d expected from somebody like Jake McAllister. He struck me as an Uzi kind of guy. Something showy, something flashy, something to prove what a badass he was.
I also noticed the bullets hadn’t hit the glass dead-on.
They’d struck at a downward angle, which meant they’d been fired from somewhere higher up. Hmm. I moved off to one side to a section of glass that hadn’t been cracked by the bullets and peered outside.
There. Across the street, curtains flapped against an open window on the second floor of an apartment building.
Not an unusual sight—in the summer. But it was November. Fifty degrees out, with a steady drizzle of cold rain. Nobody in his right mind would have his window open on a day like this unless he had a good reason. Like trying to kill me.
Made sense. I hadn’t heard a car peel away from the curb after the shots had been fired, and I didn’t see any new tread marks on the street outside, which meant it hadn’t been a drive-by. Jake McAllister had been stationary when he’d put four bullets into the front of my restaurant.
My eyes focused on the flapping curtain. Time to see if the cuckoo had left his nest or not.
“Stay here,” I told Finn.
“Where are you going?” Finn asked from underneath the table.
I gripped my knives a little tighter. “To find the bastard who just ruined my storefront windows.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have gone out the front door of the Pork Pit. Not after somebody had just shot up my windows.
That was just asking for trouble, for the shooter to put a bullet in my chest when I stepped outside to investigate.
But I was angry, and I had my elemental magic.
So I reached for my Stone power, pulling it up into my veins, letting the
Smack!
Smack! Smack!
Three more bullets slammed into the front of the restaurant.
I looked up, trying to judge where the shots were coming from, but the angle from the floor was all wrong.
I could see the storefront windows, but not who or what lay beyond them.
My eyes flicked to the projectiles. A large caliber, probably a fifty, from the looks of them. And whoever was shooting knew what he was doing. Despite their size, the bullets formed a small, circular cluster about the size of my fist. Kill shots, all of them.
The four metal missiles had cracked and caught in the storefront glass, which kept them from punching through into the Pork Pit itself. Still, the sharp, sudden impacts had ruined the windows. Macabre patterns ran out from the silver bullets, as though a swarm of spiders were stringing their delicate webs through the thick glass.
I shook one of my sleeves, and a knife slipped into my other hand, the hilt resting on the scar on my palm. I hoped the bastard got tired of shooting through the windows and decided to come inside and finish the job. He’d be in for a nasty surprise. One he wouldn’t recover from.
With every breath, I expected more bullets to slam into the windows. Or for the door to be yanked open and someone to storm inside. Jake McAllister, most likely, trying to make good on his threat to come back and kill me.
Instead—silence.
I counted off the seconds in my head. Ten…twenty… thirty… forty-five…
The girl shifted, trying to get out from underneath me. Or at least get her face up off the floor. I rolled off her so she could catch her breath, but I kept one hand on her back, holding her in place.
“Be still,” I snapped. “He could be waiting for us to get to our feet before he fires another shot.”
Violet nodded and lay on the floor, sucking in deep breaths through her open mouth.
After ninety seconds had passed without another gunshot, I rose to my knees and looked outside. The cracked glass distorted my vision, but I didn’t see anyone standing directly outside the restaurant, gun in hand. No parked cars idling at the curb. No one running down the sidewalk.
I stood up and examined the bullets. Fifty caliber all the way around, probably from a rifle. Not what I’d expected from somebody like Jake McAllister. He struck me as an Uzi kind of guy. Something showy, something flashy, something to prove what a badass he was.
I also noticed the bullets hadn’t hit the glass dead-on.
They’d struck at a downward angle, which meant they’d been fired from somewhere higher up. Hmm. I moved off to one side to a section of glass that hadn’t been cracked by the bullets and peered outside.
There. Across the street, curtains flapped against an open window on the second floor of an apartment building.
Not an unusual sight—in the summer. But it was November. Fifty degrees out, with a steady drizzle of cold rain. Nobody in his right mind would have his window open on a day like this unless he had a good reason. Like trying to kill me.
Made sense. I hadn’t heard a car peel away from the curb after the shots had been fired, and I didn’t see any new tread marks on the street outside, which meant it hadn’t been a drive-by. Jake McAllister had been stationary when he’d put four bullets into the front of my restaurant.
My eyes focused on the flapping curtain. Time to see if the cuckoo had left his nest or not.
“Stay here,” I told Finn.
“Where are you going?” Finn asked from underneath the table.
I gripped my knives a little tighter. “To find the bastard who just ruined my storefront windows.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have gone out the front door of the Pork Pit. Not after somebody had just shot up my windows.
That was just asking for trouble, for the shooter to put a bullet in my chest when I stepped outside to investigate.
But I was angry, and I had my elemental magic.
So I reached for my Stone power, pulling it up into my veins, letting the
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