Read Online Love for the Cold-Blooded by Alex Gabriel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alex Gabriel
Ads: Link
challenging and getting on with his day. Right?
Pat had barely snuck within grabbing range when Doctor Destiny whipped around, nearly kneeing him in the face. Her dark, burning gaze landed squarely on him, crouched at her feet with his outstretched fingertips almost brushing his bag, and by extension her boot.
It was an awkward situation all round.
“Heya, Doc,” said Pat. He tried a sheepish smile.
“Patrick? Patrick West, is that you?”
A moment later, she’d yanked him up by the arm, tossed him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry — cueing a chorus of shocked cries and shouts from the onlookers — and almost made him puke up his Cassiopeia cookie by painfully jolting his stomach while flying him to the top of City Hall, bag and all.
Several tiles came loose beneath his feet as he scrambled to find his balance on the steeply slanted roof. He sat down hastily and ended up and more or less starfished on his back, which at least ended the sliding. His dignity was less valuable than the roof; City Hall had only been renovated last year, and the tiles were expensive natural slate, still all fresh and nice-looking.
Doctor Destiny stood tall at the edge of the roof, dramatically outlined against the sky. She sent several more bolts ripping across the square. Most of them evaporated harmlessly, if with a lot of flash and noise. One, however, smashed into an abandoned hot dog stand, and another ripped up the pavement right in front of Taliesin Books, scattering stones and a display of discount DVDs into every direction.
The view from up here was pretty cool, Pat noted. Like, the way the buildings were grouped around the square was suddenly totally clear. Even if the black-clad challenger with the billowy cape shooting electricity everywhere did clutter up the cityscape some.
“How have you been?” Doctor Destiny tossed the question over her shoulder, adding a menacing glare and threatening pointing finger for effect. Pat rolled his eyes, but obligingly cowered a little when she stabbed her finger at him again with more emphasis. He wasn’t completely blind to propriety, and people were watching, after all. “Imagine running into each other like that! Why, the last time I saw you, you were a pimply scrap of a teenager. Now look at you, all grown up and handsome. I’ve heard you’re going to university now, just like your sisters. Your mother must be so proud!”
“Yeah well, I hope so,” said Pat, evasively. “So, I’ve been wondering. What’s with the mortals thing? I mean, you’re mortal too, right?”
She heaved a sigh, throwing him a gleaming gaze. Literally gleaming — her eyes glowed electric blue behind the black mask. “That does not make my appellation any less accurate, Patrick. The point is to address my victims in a properly imposing manner. It appears you have much left to learn.”
“Yeah, sure.” Pat hastily cast about for a subject that would head off the threatening discussion of his choice of career. “Oh hey, speaking of victims. What are you doing here anyway? Isn’t it a little… I mean, usually you have, like, submarines and airships and all kinds of super-cool stuff.”
Briefly, Doctor Destiny’s lip twitched into a pleased smile, though she quickly caught herself and assumed a suitably chilling look of command instead. “I do, don’t I. Be that as it may, Patrick, when you grow older you will learn that at times, it is incumbent upon a person to —” She broke off abruptly, shook her head, and sighed out a put-upon gust of air before beginning again in a less declamatory tone. “Unfortunately I don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. Have you been in that new book store? The Taliesin chain is buying up stores all over, but frankly I have no idea why they are at all successful. Their selection is so poor it makes me ill. Their foreign-language section comprises one tiny little shelf with five anthologies of Spanish poetry and three French novels. They have
Pat had barely snuck within grabbing range when Doctor Destiny whipped around, nearly kneeing him in the face. Her dark, burning gaze landed squarely on him, crouched at her feet with his outstretched fingertips almost brushing his bag, and by extension her boot.
It was an awkward situation all round.
“Heya, Doc,” said Pat. He tried a sheepish smile.
“Patrick? Patrick West, is that you?”
A moment later, she’d yanked him up by the arm, tossed him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry — cueing a chorus of shocked cries and shouts from the onlookers — and almost made him puke up his Cassiopeia cookie by painfully jolting his stomach while flying him to the top of City Hall, bag and all.
Several tiles came loose beneath his feet as he scrambled to find his balance on the steeply slanted roof. He sat down hastily and ended up and more or less starfished on his back, which at least ended the sliding. His dignity was less valuable than the roof; City Hall had only been renovated last year, and the tiles were expensive natural slate, still all fresh and nice-looking.
Doctor Destiny stood tall at the edge of the roof, dramatically outlined against the sky. She sent several more bolts ripping across the square. Most of them evaporated harmlessly, if with a lot of flash and noise. One, however, smashed into an abandoned hot dog stand, and another ripped up the pavement right in front of Taliesin Books, scattering stones and a display of discount DVDs into every direction.
The view from up here was pretty cool, Pat noted. Like, the way the buildings were grouped around the square was suddenly totally clear. Even if the black-clad challenger with the billowy cape shooting electricity everywhere did clutter up the cityscape some.
“How have you been?” Doctor Destiny tossed the question over her shoulder, adding a menacing glare and threatening pointing finger for effect. Pat rolled his eyes, but obligingly cowered a little when she stabbed her finger at him again with more emphasis. He wasn’t completely blind to propriety, and people were watching, after all. “Imagine running into each other like that! Why, the last time I saw you, you were a pimply scrap of a teenager. Now look at you, all grown up and handsome. I’ve heard you’re going to university now, just like your sisters. Your mother must be so proud!”
“Yeah well, I hope so,” said Pat, evasively. “So, I’ve been wondering. What’s with the mortals thing? I mean, you’re mortal too, right?”
She heaved a sigh, throwing him a gleaming gaze. Literally gleaming — her eyes glowed electric blue behind the black mask. “That does not make my appellation any less accurate, Patrick. The point is to address my victims in a properly imposing manner. It appears you have much left to learn.”
“Yeah, sure.” Pat hastily cast about for a subject that would head off the threatening discussion of his choice of career. “Oh hey, speaking of victims. What are you doing here anyway? Isn’t it a little… I mean, usually you have, like, submarines and airships and all kinds of super-cool stuff.”
Briefly, Doctor Destiny’s lip twitched into a pleased smile, though she quickly caught herself and assumed a suitably chilling look of command instead. “I do, don’t I. Be that as it may, Patrick, when you grow older you will learn that at times, it is incumbent upon a person to —” She broke off abruptly, shook her head, and sighed out a put-upon gust of air before beginning again in a less declamatory tone. “Unfortunately I don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. Have you been in that new book store? The Taliesin chain is buying up stores all over, but frankly I have no idea why they are at all successful. Their selection is so poor it makes me ill. Their foreign-language section comprises one tiny little shelf with five anthologies of Spanish poetry and three French novels. They have
Similar Books
