Read Online Krewe of Hunters 1 Phantom Evil by Heather Graham - Free Book Online

years. This wasa new team; despite his lingering feelings of pain for his last coworkers, he had to make himself start fresh, and give each member of this new team a chance to fall in—just as he had to learn to lead again, as smoothly as he had in the past.
    â€œSure,” he said again. “That will be great.”
    He almost managed to laugh at himself as he headed back to the kitchen, to finish the notes he had been making after his conversation with Andy Devereaux, and after they had discovered the bones of Madden C. Newton’s probable first New Orleans victim.
    Almost. It was one thing to understand the way the human mind worked. It was another to buck against it when you were the human in question.
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    â€œI play a lot on Frenchman Street,” Jake told Angela. “Things have changed a lot since our season of storms. The demographics in the city have changed, and it’s kind of like a movement for survival. Let’s face it, the history here is great, but tons of the tourism comes because of Bourbon Street, for people to have a good time in the old Big Easy. So, now, you don’t hear all the different stuff you used to hear—well, not as much. The bars on Bourbon mostly have pop—Journey, Bon Jovi, hard-hitting fast stuff. Of course, everything is a contradiction. Next thing you know, the best sax player known to man will show up working at one of the tourist places!”
    â€œIt’s always been a city of contradictions,” Angela assured him, liking the young man very much.
    â€œYou know it well?” he asked, arching a brow as she led them at last to the entertainment slash family room. He sat at the end of the sofa and she perched at the other, winding her legs beneath her as she faced him.
    â€œFrom college,” she told him. “I grew up in Virginia, but I absolutely love New Orleans, so it does feel just a little bit like coming home. Despite the gruesome reason.”
    â€œSo, tell me, Miss Hawkins, what do you do?” he asked.
    She hesitated. “I guess I’m a ‘finder,’ too. That’s what you do, right?”
    He nodded, shrugging. “I guess I have a certain sense for…finding people.” He lowered his voice, looking toward the door.
    â€œDo you?” she asked. “How do you mean?”
    He hesitated a minute, then said, “Friends of mine almost went insane. Their five-year-old was kidnapped, and two boys had been kidnapped right before. One’s body had been found. I had a dream about a child holding my hand, taking me down into an area of bayou near Slidell. I found the body of the second. And it was amazing, because when I found it, I also found the old swamp house where they were keeping my friends’ little boy. He survived. I was so grateful, but the experience shook me up—that was for certain. But I didn’t dwell on it. Knowing things, seeing events and people—it isn’t always good. Some people turn away from you; they think that you’re out to hurt them, or they want to put some distance between you and them, because there might be something really odd about you.” He paused again. “I think I lost a best friend that way.” He laughed softly. “Actually, the love of my life. But…well, if you have experiences like mine, you stay sane yourself by learning to use whatever talent you have, gift or curse, to do what you can to help stop some of the depravity and evil in the world. New Orleans is my home, so my talents came in handy when the city was in trouble.”
    â€œDo your ghosts come in dreams,” she said.
    â€œSometimes. Yours?”
    She found herself looking to the door as well. “I get feelings that seem almost like a divining rod—and yes, I get the dreams. I—I saw something when my parents were killed in a plane crash. I saw them walking toward the light, along with a lot of other people. The therapist who worked with me